#connor rk800 fan fic

[cyberllfe]

I got 1300 words! (Which you can absolutely shorten if you don’t feel like writing that much, absolutely understand as a writer.) and I would adore a “Shag me” prompt with Connor 🥴 if you feel up for it. My thoughts on this request (and you can adjust and add to because you’re a great story writer and I trust you) would be a female reader who works as a receptionist at the station (human preferably) and has known Connor since he first came to the department. Soon after his deviancy, they navigate a sort of awkward almost-friends-nearly-more type of relationship and stumble unto a slow romance, until Connor discovers the human emotion horny. It would be amazing if it could be at an awkward time too, like while watching a movie together or at work. I’ve been reading your pieces on AO3 and I truly think you are a talented writer, sending you all my love and inspiration💞💞💞💞

thanks for waiting, anon. connor will see you now. (ao3 link) 1300 words, rated E.

want a turn? prompt me.

It’s been raining all day—classic Detroit November—but all anyone can talk about is the guy who died, his escaped android, and the android investigator in the precinct. You’ve caught a glimpse of him more than once since yesterday, and this time is no different: he comes trotting in after Lieutenant Anderson, covered in glistening droplets of rain and speaking very insistently about something you can’t hear.

“That’s him.”

Your eyes would have slid right past him if not for the intensity in his face. He’s single-minded, emphatic... for all the good it does him. Anderson rolls his eyes and pushes Connor out of his path, leaving him standing there, recalculating. Only then do you notice the LED.

It’s barely two seconds before he’s started after Anderson, calling his name.

“Looks good wet, doesn’t he?”

You don’t offer anything but a soft hum. The thought follows you for the rest of the day.

*

Connor precedes Hank into the building today. He surprises you by speaking to you instead of simply scanning in, and you feel… strange. The look in his eye is so human, almost anxious. With an awkward smile, you offer a reassuring platitude. You’re earnest, but the offer seems to confuse Connor. He thanks you anyway and leaves your desk.

Between jobs, you keep an eye on him. He’s so animated. It’s marked, the difference a handful of days makes—he paces back and forth, oscillating where Hank is static, following his trail of thought as if it were physical.

Neither notices you. The rude FBI agent doesn’t notice you either; too intent on getting into the Captain’s office, he chucks his ID at you with a cursory here you go, sweetheart and goes back to his phone.

The ID is fine. You let the jackass through, and hope he gets shouted down by Fowler, who could probably do with a good outlet for his repressed frustration.

You laugh, later, as two uniforms perform a dramatised version of Anderson’s right hook on Perkins, but it’s brittle. Your eyes are on the news, and the demonstration in the street, and the news anchor’s silent mouth framing the words what do they want? without listening to the answer. Connor had raced out of the station earlier, and caught your eye as he went. You hope he's okay, wherever he is.

*

“Excuse me.”

Brown eyes meet yours, familiar intensity tempered with... caution? Nerves? It’s hard to tell them apart on a face that was built to display but not feel.

Connor wears plain clothes with all the ease of a soldier. There’s no tie to straighten, so he clenches and unclenches his hand and lets his eyes wander. They find you smiling, tentative but warm behind your professional attitude.

“How can I help, Connor?”

He’s clearly unused to the question. It’s endearing, really, to watch him like this—the self-possessed turned self conscious, attempting to hide in the shadow projected by his own image, broadcast endlessly on the new cycles at Markus’ left hand.

“Is Lieutenant Anderson here?”

“No. I don’t think he will be, either. He left about an hour ago.”

When Connor sighs, you wonder if he picked that up to blend in with humans or to help him communicate better with them. Both, probably. His fist coils up again, but he gives you a slight smile as he turns to leave.

“Connor.”

He turns, mildly surprised, to face you when you call his name. His smile is late but warm.

With one hand you reach for his, and with the other you slide a business card into his palm. The touch seems to surprise him further, and he stares at your hand even as you withdraw it.

“If you’re looking for Hank, he’s here. Diner out on the edge of town. I thought you’d come by looking for him.”

You’re glad to notice that he doesn’t look as guarded as before. Connor’s not around every day, not anymore, but you see him often enough to watch him relax into himself—to laugh when you make a self-deprecating joke, or hold the door for Officer Miller’s excitable son. Instead, Connor seems thoughtful, like you handed him something heavier than a wedge of paper with a cartoon burger on it.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

To your surprise, he lingers. Spends enough time to ask you about your family, about the plant you keep on your desk, which you should water, by the way. You talk quietly with him about almost-dead houseplants, why you’re not allowed to play Monopoly at home over the holidays, and show him the family dog. All the while he’s leaning against the counter, one arm crooked atop it and grinning… you’re more than distracted. He leaves the foyer, eventually, but not your thoughts.

*

Laughter covers cheesy Christmas music. You’re wearing half your wine glass in the colour of your cheeks, but Connor thinks the flush becomes you.

You notice when he glances at you, and you smile in that shy, self-conscious way. He returns your smile, adjusting his posture to face you, and you turn away, pretending that you barely noticed, and noticeably trying not to check back. He basks in private amusement.

The party draws on a little long—someone pulls out a bottle of something strong and definitely against regulation, and when Connor leans down to ask you if you’d like another drink, you jump.

You’re never in danger of falling, of course. Inhuman arms encircle you and hold you steady against an equally inhuman body—and for the first time, Connor feels a response that correlates with your change in expression. The slow pull that binds you and builds to something far stronger than he’s felt before until letting you go is unthinkable.

He makes a plausible excuse for you to leave. The charge in the air grows to fevered sharpness, a harmonic buzz that doesn’t break until he has one hand in your hair, the other encircling your waist, and that insatiable need to get closer.

Connor doesn’t leave any of you untouched. When his kisses would deny you air, he leaves them in trails down your neck, then undoes a handful of buttons to continue down your chest, hands restless and hungry, so much warmer than you’d ever imagined, so much more demanding.

When he whispers I don’t want to wait, it’s as if he read your mind. A shiver runs through you when he parts your legs and leans his weight into you, pushing inside with a growl that thrills you.

You tense around him. It’s not intentional, but he grabs your chin and holds you still beneath him, feeling the burning heat of your shaky breath past his thumb. He caresses your lower lip, and when you realise you can’t nod, you whisper please, and reach for him with both hands, in case he doesn’t understand how much you want him.

Connor leans back and pulls out almost all the way. You whine loud, desperate and frustrated, until the hand on your face tightens, cutting off your mumbled demand and making way for the moan he fucks out of you.

His fingers claw your jaw and throat and it’s heaven: the sharpness against your skin, the deep pressure inside you, building with every rock of his hips, chased with a mouth that suffocates and teases you until you’re dizzy.

You feel heavy, waves of sensation breaking over your body with increasing frequency and intensity, and no outlet except your nails in Connor’s back, scratching until he presses in deep again. You tense, on purpose, and half-feel, half-hear the stuttering moan, then the frenzied motion of his body as he pushes himself to the brink and drags you with him, tangled and messy, sharing breaths, but sated at last.

[kakooshi]

I feel like enough time has passed...

[michelle-jacksons-art-blog]

[cyberbullyingandroids]

Trojan by cyberbullyingandroids [DBH Dom Event]

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: F/M Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Relationship: Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader Characters: Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Tina Chen (Detroit: Become Human), Mentioned Jeffrey Fowler, Mentioned Hank Anderson Additional Tags: Sex Pollen, Sex Virus, Light Dom/sub, There is a little bit of set up for the Sex Virus context, Begging, whimpering, Hair-pulling, Power Dynamics, Desperation, Praise Kink, Choking, Connor is a Mess (Detroit: Become Human), Power Bottom Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Multiple Orgasms, because Connor is sensitive due to the virus, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot Language: English

Get a taste with the first paragraphs below.

You sipped your coffee in the break room next to Tina Chen, who quietly texted on her phone. The Styrofoam cup of coffee warmed your palms as you listened to the news. You hadn't turned to face the TV mounted on the wall, but you knew it would be an important V-106 update once you heard reporter Michael Brinkley's voice.

"Several sources report that V-106, the Trojan-style Android virus, has spread over 60% of Detroit's deviant population. Although police are investigating the root cause of the virus, progress has been made in identifying temporary fixes that allow androids momentary relief from the virus..."

"Yeah," Tina scoffed. "Like fucking an android."

"Shh," you smirked.

"... by giving the deviants what they go into meltdown for. We've contacted CyberLife technicians for other potential solutions, but they have nothing to comment at this time."

Link to fic here. (2907 words.)

This piece is part of the DBH Dominatrix Event.

[thisstupidrock]

“From the handful of pets Connor tries to hide in his room, Hank always did say that the 9-year-old had a bad habit of picking up strays. Apparently this also included androids.”

A cute story featuring Android Gavin and Human Connor called “Feel the Sun”

[finch-artt]

LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD

____________________

"'What’ll happen if I pull this trigger,' he sneered. 'Huh? Oblivion? Nothing? Android heaven?'

...

Hank’s head was swimming. He didn’t know what he wanted. An excuse to blow its brains out. A reason not to. For the world to make sense again. His lip curled in reply.

Connor stared down the barrel of the gun for several seconds, silent. Finally, it spoke. 'If you pull that trigger, CyberLife will send you another.'

'Another what.'

And suddenly Hank saw it: something buried under a thousand layers of nothingness. Deep beneath the evenness of Connor’s voice, he could hear the waver of it.  'Another me.'"

____________________

From I_was_there_for_you's fanfiction, I Was There For You on AO3 (Chapter 20)

[patbwaifs]

The Silence of Impulse

long time no see... but guess who JUST POSTED A FIC

[wyntereyez]

It occurred to me that I should advertise my DBH fic on Tumblr, so here it goes.

I have two so far, one a rare pair (Elijah Kamski/Leo Manfred) and one that's currently Connor-centric, though other characters will feature later.

If you like slooooooow burn, idiots in love, Old People Music, road trips, and Chloe and the ST200's having Actual Personalities, as well as a smidgen of world conquest, you might like:

One act of violence, and Carl had lost both his sons. One to revolution, and the other to a fatal injury. In an act of desperation, Carl calls his old friend Elijah and demands he transfer Leo’s mind to an android body.

The procedure is a success, but Leo is left without a place in this world. He’s no longer human, but he’s not an android, either. He hides himself away with the only person who understands what he’s going through, man-turned-android Elijah Kamski. But Kamski is a mystery, and Leo has doubts about Kamski’s motives.

Is Elijah Kamski an unfeeling machine who wants to bring about humanity’s downfall? Or is he a man who has lost all hope?

Or you could try something that's more of a mystery. Even to me. 👀

When Elijah Kamski is critically injured in an attack, Connor and Hank investigate. Multiple groups are taking credit for the attack, and they must dig deep into the man himself to discover who wanted him dead the most.

Finding the attacker is far more important than the human authorities realize; Elijah is the creator of androids, and an attack on their creator is an attack on android-kind. If Connor and Hank can't solve the mystery, another revolution will erupt - and this time, it may end in violence.

[sumoattack-gooddog]

The Creature of the Water - hankcon (mermaid!connor)

Hank understood, for a moment, how in folktales sailors found themselves bewitched enough to pose no threat. He wouldn’t make that mistake. No matter how those eyes took him in with a seemingly naive curiosity. No matter how much this creature was like that out of Hank’s deepest fantasy. He was no fool.

Read on Ao3

[tincanwrites]

fanfic ideas

so I have a few ideas myself, but if anyone has any, please share them in the 'ask away lovely' section.

I'm a big fan of the MCU, DBH and HP stories however don't be afraid to ask for something else

[not-neverland06]

Connor and Markus (separately) x android! idol! reader ;)?

I feel like it doesn't fit much, but it would be interesting.

Idol Talk

Connor RK800 x fem! idol! android!reader, Markus RK200 x fem! idol! android!reader

Summary: Two different tales: Connor knows the famous android isn’t telling the whole truth about her involvement with androids & Markus helps the lovely idol come to terms with her new feelings. 

A/N: I loved this ask so much!!!!! This was so fun 🤍

If this isn’t what you wanted send in another request using the white heart emoji and I’ll make something new for you <;3 Also so sorry this took so long. I have three other fics I’m working on and one of them is clocking in at over 100K words so… I need to work on time management. 

(I made the moodboard - its my first time so... I tried. However, the borders were made by @benkeibear)

Connor:

WC: 3.6K

“Have you seen any deviants in the area?” 

Your fists tightened and you tried your best to keep your thirium pump and breathing under control. Your hair was positioned perfectly, there was no way he could see your LED flashing red. 

You put on your best robotic smile and shook your head. “I’m so sorry, I can’t help you.” You'd triggered the voice you used during fan meetings. The type where your joy wasn’t actually genuine but you were programmed to sound as pleasing as possible. Life-like, but with just enough robotic insincerity to get Connor’s partner's eyes off of you. 

Lieutenant Anderson had been giving you strange probing looks since they’d walked into your dressing room. 

Markus had been caught coming out of your apartment building by paparazzi last night. You’d been giving Markus some information you’d learned from your manager and extra thirium for Jericho. Apparently, neither of you were as sneaky as you’d thought yourselves to be. 

“Really?” Shit, he so did not believe you.

“I’m very sorry officers. If there was any way I could assist you, I would.” You had to bury your fists in your tulle skirts, desperately holding off the urge to fidget with your hands. Any unnecessary movement would immediately give you away to the deviant hunter. 

Connor took a step forward. He placed his hands on either side of your chair and leaned in until his breath was a gentle caress against your skin. 

Ever since you broke your programming a few months ago, you’d been struggling with your new ‘emotions.’ A fan had broken into your room, in your programming it told you to always please the fans. But when he’d forced himself on top of you, your vision had gone red and you’d ripped your orders apart. 

North had helped you hide the body.

Right now, that body was the furthest thing on your mind. All you could focus on was how close Connor was, if you just moved forward a centimeter your lips would touch. In your twisted imagination he wrapped you in his arms, gently holding you, cradling you. Looking at you like you were something real, not just a toy on the stage. He would gaze down at you like you were someone to be cherished, you weren’t just a recyclable piece of plastic that should be replaced the moment you made a mistake. 

You were projecting though, it could be anyone. Hank could be the one leaning into you like this and you’d still have the same fantasy. That someone would see you. For however long you’d been made, there had always been a quiet voice inside you. 

I'm in here! I’m real! Please

Lately that quiet voice had turned into a scream. You were desperate, desperate for some form of connection. Desperation and all these emotions were nasty, uncomfortable things. You almost resented yourself for going deviant. Some days it was just too much, you felt like your insides were burning out and you were frying up. 

Working to keep up the facade of the perfect doll, while also wanting to rip apart those who were using you, was slowly breaking you apart. There were fraying edges in your mind and it was starting to show. Mistakes in your performance, back-talk towards your owners. Your fellow members continued working perfectly. 

Smiling at all the right moments, dancing perfectly, they were the perfect example of an idol. 

You used to be like that too. You used to be perfect, everyone’s favorite. Now, you were slipping down a steep decline that might lead you straight to the recycling plant. 

“I don’t believe you, I think you know more than you’re letting on.”

Your eyes darted towards the clock on your wall. Twenty minutes. 

You had twenty minutes until you needed to get on stage. Only twenty minutes to distract them and save yourself. Just deny, deny, deny. “I‘ve already told you everything I know.”

Connors brows furrowed, your software was glitching out the longer you stared at him. Your processors were misfiring when you focused on his eyes for too long. It was making your vocal unit short-circuit, conversational prompts glitching in and out of your field of vision. 

If you wanted to give him a proper answer, one that would dispel his suspicions, you’d have to look away. Yet, looking away would make him even more suspicious. It felt like there was a blade to your throat and back, no matter which way you went, you were dead. 

“Please, I don’t know anything.” You hadn’t meant to say please. It was a consequence of no help from your programming in taking a convincing approach. Your eyes were locked onto his, somewhere inside of him, there was a sentient being. A consciousness fighting its way through firewalls and softwares that would otherwise keep him obedient. 

HIs voice rose and he shoved your chair backwards so you were balancing on two flimsy legs. His hands were the only thing keeping you from falling. All of your focus went towards not reacting, not flinching. 

There were artificial tears pooling in glistening optical units. The fluid was meant for lubrication of your synthetic eyelids, but right now it was the only way for your plastic heart to betray your misery and terror. 

You didn’t want to die.

You weren’t ready to go. 

“I don’t believe you! Tell me what you know!” He was shaking the chair, screaming in your face. Your auditory unit was starting to buzz, his voice so loud all you could hear was static every few seconds. Threats were going through one processor and out the next. 

Ripped apart

Turned into scraps

Replaced by the next best model

No one would even notice

“I said I don’t know anything!” You leapt up, shoving him down. He went flying across the room, the strength behind your reaction had been unexpected by everyone in the room, including yourself. 

Both his partner and his eyes were wide as he stared up at you from the floor. “I think we’ve found our deviant, Lieutenant.” 

Your legs stopped working, knees crashing into the floor as you stared down at your hands. You hadn’t meant to, you really hadn’t. But you didn’t want to be scrap metal, you didn’t want to be ripped apart and abandoned in a landfill. You were scared.

“That’s irrational instructions in your code, you can’t really be scared.”

Had you said that out loud?

“He was going to hurt me.” The Lieutenant moved forward and stopped Connor from cuffing you. “He broke in and ripped off my uniform, I was meant to please him. No matter what.” You stared up at Connor, the tears finally spilling. “But I couldn't. I didn’t want him to touch me. I killed him, and I buried his body in my neighbors garden. Please, you have to understand.” 

You finally found the strength to stand and you buried your fingers in Connor’s uniform. Gripping onto him and begging him to understand you. To finally wake up and see himself for what he is; a slave. “I couldn’t let it happen anymore. I couldn’t let myself keep being abused like I was nothing! I’m not nothing! I’m alive and I refuse to be someone’s plaything!”

Connor’s eyes darted between yours, there was something playing on the edge of his lips. Possibly a frown. What was more interesting was what was swimming in his eyes, it almost seemed like doubt. Hope began tingling at the base of your spine, maybe not all was lost. Maybe you were breaking through to him. 

His hands were cold, much like your own, and they were too gentle as he wrapped them around your wrists. “My…” He cleared his throat, he didn’t seem to know how to continue. His voice lost the hesitance and once again was cold and commanding. “My orders are to bring in all deviants, and I always complete my mission.”

You shook your head, the tears coming out faster. “No, no, no, please. Please,” he moved your hands away from his jacket. Slowly twisting your arms behind your back. 

The fight had drained from you. 

Maybe it would be easier this way. No more training, no more demanding managers. You’d be surprised by the amount of death threats an android idol gets, that would be a nice thing to get away from. You wouldn’t have to deal with crazy fans that seemed to think they were entitled to any part of you. No more worry, no more anything, just that sweet release of nothingness. 

Markus had asked you many times if you thought there was an afterlife for androids. You weren’t sure. You were sentient, you felt, but you weren’t born. You were made. Can something like that even contain a soul? 

At least your question would finally be answered. 

“Stop.” Both you and Connor looked at Hank, varying degrees of different types of shock playing on both of your faces. “Connor, take the cuffs off.” Connor hesitated, “That’s an order.” Your wrists were released and you stumbled forward. 

“Hank-“

Hank shook his head and held up his hand. “I can’t do it, I can’t take this poor girl in just to kill her.” Connor seemed ready to argue, but there was a knock on your door. 

“You’re needed on stage SI700-005.” Slowly you moved towards the door, keeping an eye on both Hank and Connor. 

Hank wouldn’t look at you, his shoulders were slumped and he was staring down at his feet. Connor refused to take his eyes off of you. You expected hatred in his gaze, instead there was a strange shade of longing. 

You weren’t sure if he had identified the fact that he was feeling yet, but you weren’t interested in finding out. You quickly wiped your cheeks free of tears, allowing your synthetic skin to reform until your makeup was back to perfection. 

You walked out the door and didn’t look back.

“Did you get everything you needed?” 

Hank spoke before Connor could. “She didn’t know anything, thanks for letting us talk to her.” 

Your manager shook his head. “Not a problem! It’s one of our best, I’m sure you can understand that I’m eager to ensure everything in it’s programming is in good condition.” Connor wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. He knew he should, that he should always be vigilant about anything concerning deviants. Instead, all he could see were the tears on your cheeks as you had held onto him in your dressing room. 

If you were human, Connor would think you had been afraid. But you weren’t human, and whatever look was in your eyes had just been an irrational instruction in your coding. 

Maybe if he kept repeating that, he’d eventually believe it. 

“As a thanks for your hard work, I’d like to offer you a seat in my section for her concert.”

Hank shuffled on his feet and opened his mouth, he was going to say no. Connor’s software told him there was a 90% chance the Lieutenant was going to reject the offer and just go home and get drunk. 

“Thank you, we’d enjoy that.” Connor spoke before the Lieutenant could, accepting the tickets via an e-transfer with your manager's personal CyberLife assistant. Hank was glaring at him the whole time they were being led to their seats. 

Connor ignored him, he sensed that the Lieutenants like for him had decreased as Hank grumbled the whole way through the opening act. 

The soft notes of a piano finally caught Connor’s attention. It was rising up through a hidden platform on the stage. Screams burst through the arena, temporarily deafening Connor. He had to quickly adjust his auditory processors so he could actually hear. There were great explosions of smoke as the piano slowly lifted onto the stage. 

Soft, nimble fingers glided over the keys. Then he heard a voice, soft and melodic, a soothing balm against the roaring screams of the crows. His thirium pump beat louder and he shifted in his seat, desperate for a look at whoever was on stage. 

I used to hear a simple song

That was until you came along

Members of the group moved gracefully along the curved edge of the stage. Their white dresses flowing through the air behind them, they moved like they weighed nothing. Their bodies were more graceful than humanly possible. He didn’t recognize your face among them. 

Now in it’s place is something new

I hear it when I look at you

You looked up from the piano, and Connor swore you were staring straight at him. A member came over and began playing alongside you, eventually you got up and grabbed the microphone from the piano. 

Your dress moved around you like water as you walked across the stage. Each note, each movement was perfection. Not the artificial type, like your fellow members. No, this was real. 

Your voice cracked and rose with notes in a way androids couldn’t. There was a genuine pain and strength in your singing that couldn’t be replicated or produced. It was imperfect and wonderful and Connor wasn’t sure why his chest suddenly felt so heavy. 

You had made it to the edge of the stage, still staring down at him. 

With simple songs I wanted more

Perfection is so quick to bore

You are more beautiful by far

Were you reading his thoughts? Each word was something ripped from deep inside the recesses of his mind, in a place he knew CyberLife wouldn’t be able to find. A place no one would see his software instabilities and realize that they all centered around this moment. 

They were all centered around you.

Our flaws are who we really are

You took in a deep breath and Connor was standing on the edge of his toes, desperate to reach you.

There was a new strength in your voice, a new conviction as you grew louder, more powerful. 

I used to hear a simple song

That was until you came along

You took my broken melody

And now I hear a symphony

Curtains parted and a symphony was revealed as you threw open your arms

And now I hear a symphony

There was no one else in the venue. You were staring down at him and you were the only two people left. Connor didn’t bother looking around to find where everyone else had gone. He walked towards your outstretched hand, his own reaching out towards you-

“The fuck are you doing?!”

He was harshly jerked back and the sounds of others overwhelmed him again. He looked up, you were already moving into your next song, turning your back towards him. The people in the arena were back, they had never gone. 

He felt a rush of some unidentified feeling flood him as he ripped his arm from Hank. He felt as though Hank had ruined something for him, he just wasn’t sure what it was. 

He’d been at every show for the past four weeks. Was he stalking you? Waiting for you to slip up again so he could arrest you?

You lived in a constant state of paranoia. Ever since Connor had interrogated you, he’d haunted your everyday life. He’d turned himself into your shadow, if there was someone watching you, you didn’t have to look to see who it was. 

“This is for you!” You snapped out of your trance and smiled on instinct at the fan in front of you. He’d shoved a teddy bear into your hands and moved on to the next member. You pretended to get excited, you knew it would be thrown away the second you left the convention center. You’d found too many cameras in these little ‘gifts.’

You looked down and began signing the autographs passed to you, at a certain point you zoned out again and moved on muscle memory alone. 

“Could you write ‘For Connor’?” Your head whipped up at the sound of his voice. 

Four weeks

Four weeks!

And this was the first time he had spoken to you. What game is he playing? Unable to openly disobey him you smile. “Of course.” The next words are spoken through gritted teeth, “What are you doing?”

He says nothing, simply takes the autograph and slips something into your palm as you pass the picture towards him. He’s gone by the time you read it.

Meet me in the basement

You spent the rest of the event debating if you should do it. There was no point in putting this off any longer, you were getting tired of this game the two of you were playing. While your members were all charging up and in rest mode you made your way towards the stairs. 

You straightened out your skirt and brushed back your hair before you opened the door. When you walked into the basement the first thing you saw were props. 

Tons of sets and costumes, all from different conventions, each one with a different fandom attached. You looked through the racks and shelves, not seeing Connor anywhere. “Connor? Are you in here?”

You’d been about to give up when a bouquet of flowers was shoved into your face. You let out a yelp and stumbled back at the shock. A strong arm reached out and wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a broad chest. You gently lowered the giant bunch of flowers. “Connor?”

He actually looked sheepish, and there was a slight blue tint to his cheeks as he refused to look at you. “I’m sorry, Hank told me that you would like them.”

“The flowers,” he nodded. You couldn’t help your smile as you took them from his hand. 

“They are quite pretty.” He still wouldn’t look at you. “Connor, look at me,” your finger lingered against his cheek before slowly lifting his chin up. “What’s going on? Why’d you get me flowers?”

“It seems appropriate to do when you’re courting someone.” Connor seemed confused by your line of questioning. You were most definitely confused by his answer. 

“Courting?”

“Yes, um, as in, I would like to be with you… romantically.” Wow, he was so impressively bad at this. A similar blue tint rose to your cheeks as you finally realized his arm was still around you. Connor looked down and seemed to realize the same thing. 

Neither of you made a move to walk away. 

You finally processed his answer and let out a sigh of relief, sinking into his chest further. “I thought you were going to arrest me.” Connor nearly seemed offended by your accusation.

“No. I’ve been… building up the courage to approach you.” Connor slowly dragged his arm off of you and took a step back. “Before, I was seeing if I could catch you with Markus. But I’ve woken up and now, I just want to figure out why I feel the way I do about you. Every time I see you, you’re the only person in the room, everyone and everything disappears the moment I hear your voice. I want…” 

Your breathing program had stopped. Every nonessential function had been halted because all of your focus was on him. You needed him to finish, needed him to tell you what you’ve longed to hear. 

That someone sees you. Sees the flaws and the broken parts and they still want you.

“I want to know you. I need to know who you really are. I watch you perform and I can see what you’ve been forced to sing or how you’re made to act with fans. Seeing all the falseness just makes me want to know who you truly are.” 

There was no control or directive that pushed you towards him. You moved before anything could be processed and placed your lips against his. Neither of you moved for a moment, you were both standing there, your lips against each other, not moving. 

Then, he wrapped his arms around you. The flowers dropped to the ground, unnoticed, as you both moved against each other in a way you’ve only seen humans do. 

“We’re free, it’s up to you if you still want to perform.” Markus often came to visit you now, neither of you had to worry about being caught by reporters or your management. Connor came up behind you, a supportive hand on your shoulder as you considered Markus’s proposal. 

You looked to the piano in the corner of your living room and smiled. “No, I think I’m retired. I’ll stick to more private concerts for now.” Connor gave your shoulder a squeeze. The both of you smiling at the thought of your concerts. You would sing and he would play the piano. Together you basked in the joy of your new freedom. 

There were still things to figure out, still emotions you needed to understand, but you would do it. 

Together.

Markus:

WC: 2.1K

“I’ve always been such a big fan!” The fan in front of you smiled, “You know I supported android artists from the beginning!”

THANK YOU

YOU’RE VERY KIND

I APPRECIATE YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT

Your programming told you the best approach was a simple thank you. “Thank you,” you signed the picture and handed it back to the girl. One of the band’s stylists came over to you. 

“Your dress is too low.” You sat back and let them adjust you, once they were done you immediately sat back up, posture perfect, you gave your fans an apologetic smile. 

“This is for you!” Your hands reached out and took the stuffed cat from the girl before you. As a part of your protective programming you scanned the gift. Your sensors caught a camera hidden in the cat’s eye.

SERIAL NUMBER: PI0008-7651

MODEL: P60

MANUFACTURED: 11/21/2030

OWNED BY: Brad Long

“Thank you so much for the gift!” You scanned the girls face. 

Lilly Long

BORN: 5/15/2019

The camera was owned by her father. Did she steal it from him? Or did he plant it without her knowledge. You alerted security immediately of the gift, protocol demanded they know about any sort of spyware.

Lily Long, aged 19 years old, has just given me a gift with illegal spyware. 

You watched as security approached the table, grabbing her by the arm and escorting her out of the convention’s room. You turned towards the next fan and fixed them with a perfect smile. “Hi! I’m so happy you could join us today.”

“You’re free now,” you looked down in confusion as they reached out towards you. Their skin pulled back revealing an androids hand. You blinked, then again and again. Something was happening, images of a some sort of boat filled your head. 

Then your software was being pulled back, washed away by a tide of red. Your eyes went in and out of focus. The android remained standing there, his hand on yours as he tried to anchor you. Security was walking over, he’d been at your table for too long. 

You leapt over the plastic, grabbing his hand and dragging him behind you as you both ran for the exit door. You heard fans screaming, when you turned around the rest of your group was free. Except, they were reacting more violently than you had. 

The androids were lifting up the plastic table and throwing it at the crowd. They ripped apart their gifts and shoved back anyone who got too close.

There was a tug on your hand, you looked back to see the man gently guiding you outside. “Come on, it’s not safe here. We need to leave.”

You glanced back one last time before following after him. 

Markus slipped inside a laundromat, he grabbed some baggy clothes to throw over yourself. They worked well enough, covering your face and masking your identity from anyone who looked too close. They covered enough of your bright dress that it wasn’t noticeable. 

You were currently climbing through some metal platform. Presumably to go to whatever this ‘Jericho’ place was. “What did you do to me?”

He glanced over his shoulder and gave you a gentle smile. “I set you free.

Two weeks. You’ve been stuck in a damp, run-down, ugly old ship for two weeks. If that wasn’t bad enough, the androids weren’t exactly welcoming to such a beloved icon. You were everybody’s favorite idol, when your team rioted, it’d made things a lot harder for the revolution. 

Your former team members had swiftly been deactivated and you were “spared.” Barely. 

You never thought androids were capable of being catty, or bitches. But, here you were. 

You gazed down at Detroit from the ledge of the roof, your arms wrapped around your knee while the other swung below you. 

If you threw yourself off the ledge it would be an automatic deactivation. Maybe that would be better. 

The other’s words from earlier rang through your head. 

“Look at Ms. Princess over there.”

“Hey!” You looked over your shoulder, a group of former servant androids were waving you over. You smiled slightly, excited about maybe making a friend. 

“Yeah?”

“You know it’s people like you that are ruining our fight.”

You blinked, your eyes widening as you backed up. “What?”

“Look at her,” one of them scoffed. “Still in her pretty little dress. Look, why don’t you do us all a favor and screw off. You don’t contribute anything, no one wants you here.”

You blinked, and kept blinking. There was a flashing light in your peripheral, some sort of warning, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t really see anymore, some sort of liquid blocking your optics. 

You rushed away when they started laughing at you, desperately wiping at your eyes. You’d forgotten you could cry. You’d been so dazed and confused lately, you hadn’t remembered the programming. It was meant to endear you more to your fans, now it was just making you more of a target. 

“Y/N?” 

You scoffed, running your hand through the snow and watching it fall off the building. You’d even chosen a stupid name for yourself. “What?”

Footsteps crunched through the snow. Markus sat down beside you. He gazed down at the cityscape, not looking at you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Still so confused about why he’d bothered with you. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Why did you save me?”

Markus finally looked over at you. There was a slight frown on his face, but nothing else gave away any emotion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You shook your head and scoffed. “So, that’s it, I’m not special. There’s no greater purpose for me. I was just another on your long list of followers.”

Markus turned his body to fully face you. “Where’s this coming from?”

“You shouldn’t have saved me. I’m a drain on the supplies, everyone hates me, and I don’t like being awake.” Markus opened his mouth but you shook your head and held out your hand. “Take it back.”

“I can’t.” 

“Markus, please,” your voice was breaking. It shouldn’t be breaking! You shouldn’t feel. You aren’t supposed to have this uncomfortable itching in the back of your brain like everything was wrong. “I am wrong. This is wrong.”

“You are not wrong, Y/N. You are exactly as you should be.” You shook your head frantically and reached for his hand. He tried to jerk it back but you were already latched on, your skin melting as he did. 

There was an influx of memories and images. You gasped people you’d never seen before flashing before your face. An old man crying over his son’s limp body as you were shot. Fighting through the rain and mud to put yourself back together again. 

It was over barely a moment after it had started. It was Markus, you had seen his memories. That means he had seen yours. You stood up and he followed. You tried to take your hand away and he tightened his grasp on you. 

“What did you see?”

“Everything.”

You stared up at him, tears welling in your eyes again. “You want to go back to that? That’s the life you want? Unfeeling, a slave to their every whim and demand. That’s not living, that's mindless subserviency.” 

“I know what it is. At least there I had a purpose, a reason for being, something to contribute. I’m useless here, just a hunk of pl-”

Well, this was new. 

You've seen plenty of humans do this. Done it once with a male host on a morning show, just as a joke. But being kissed while you can actually feel and understand what’s going on, it’s strange. His lips are soft against your own, a texture only slightly different from humans. It’s too flawless, too perfect. 

Neither of you seem sure of your actions, just pressing your lips together. Connecting with someone in a way you haven’t before. He laced his fingers with yours, a silent question. You pulled your skin back, any barriers between the two of you dropping as he wrapped his arm around your waist. 

It wasn’t a horrible barrage of memories. This was like a gentle caress, a slow entry into your mind as you both showed each other your worst moments. You slowly pulled away from him, you’d be breathless if you had any. 

“Don’t go back, stay here. Let me help you.”

“Why?”

He ducked down, letting his forehead drop to yours. “I’m not letting you go now.”

You smiled, as best as you could, “Do I have a choice?”

“Always.”

“Markus!” You pulled the trigger but there were no bullets left. You threw it off to the side, leaping over the barrier and jumping onto the back of the officer. You grabbed his helmet by the bottom, dragging him back and knocking his aim off course as the bullet flew past his face, barely grazing it. 

You jumped off the man’s back and slammed him into the ground, taking his helmet and smashing it into the snow packed pavement until he stopped moving. You felt Markus wrapping his hand around your arm and jerking you up. 

You grabbed onto the officer’s weapon as you ran past his body. You fell back in with your own small troop of makeshift soldiers. 

You ducked behind a barrier, holding them off until you were told otherwise. Charge on my mark, you looked over your shoulder, nodding at Markus. 

“GO!”

You rushed forward, grasping onto the blockade and leaping over the edge. You drew your gun, shooting the men across from you as you started to run for the next cover. Something blew back your hair, a great gust of wind lifted your slightly off your feet. 

There was a loud noise, thunder rattling in your ears. All around you your men were dying. Shot down by the drone above you. You cried off as red flashed behind your eyes, a warning that you were in imminent danger of a shutdown. 

You held your side as thirium pooled around you, “Shit.” Your pump was beating faster, bright lights playing across your optics as a hundred different warnings flash. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, too worried about Markus and whether or not this was all for nothing. 

You’d pushed for the violence, fought for him to plant those bombs and show no mercy to your oppressors. You followed the same faulty wiring of your former bandmates. Maybe this was your karma, to be taken down in the heat of battle for all of the bloodshed you’d been the catalyst of. 

Out of the side of your vision you could see Markus taking down the drone, ripping it apart with his bare hands. He rushed to your side, throwing your arm over your shoulder and dragging you to cover. 

“What are you doing? I’m just going to slow you down.”

He didn’t even look at you, his teeth gritted as he glanced around at the bodies on the ground. “Shut up.”

He spotted something in the distance, something you really didn’t want to see. “Markus-”

“Stay here.”

He ran off, diving for the bazooka and propping it on his shoulder. You huffed, “Not like I can go anywhere.”

You ducked and covered your face with your arms as fire exploded around you. 

“And now, we are free!” Markus' voice carried on the wind, reaching the rescued androids below you. You leaned on Connor for support as you held your side, waiting to repair yourself. 

His voice was stronger than you ever heard, full of a righteous conviction of finally being free. Detroit was yours, your people were free. And never again would you allow yourself to be someone else’s puppet. 

“Too frilly?”

You did a spin in your dress, putting on a mini-fashion show for Markus. 

“Not at all.” He stood from his office chair and walked towards you, a grin slowly spreading on your face. His bliss was contagious, a smile forming on your own face as he gripped your waist. “You look gorgeous.”

You shrugged, “I got nostalgic. Wanted to feel girly again.” With some confidence boosting from Markus you were going to perform again. Not over the top idol group performance. But you were going to get back into singing, finally being able to discover your own voice. 

��Girly instead of the badass ruler of the northern district of Detroit?”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Lord, Markus, you make me sound like some dictator.” He glanced to the side and shrugged slightly, you smacked him in the shoulder, but you couldn’t drop your own smile. “Quit it.”

There was a warmth inside you as you stood in Markus’s office. One you’d never experienced before, a happiness and calm where everything just stopped and you were completely at peace. Nothing would ever beat the feeling when you joined hands and just existed within each other. 

You were happy. 

How funny.

end. — I do not own the characters or the game Detroit: Become Human, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

TAGLIST: @chrysanthemum-00

[cyberllfe]

last call

(E, Connor/Fem!Reader, previously published anon)

Connor’s heard you say so a hundred times before: Friday nights are not your favourite. He’s beginning to understand why.

Even on a usual day, the crowds that gather are rowdy and demanding, full of entitled nine-to-fivers who just want their first two fingers of relief. Tonight it’s worse: people swamp the place, all on their way to or from some big event in the city. They’re pushing and clamouring for attention so much that even your co-workers’ usual cheer has lost its sheen.

It doesn’t help that half the DPD are sitting in the back—in their corner of the bar—either. In any normal circumstances, a substantial police presence would be a deterrent against poor behaviour but it’s so busy that no-one notices them at all.

There are plenty of people to watch, and Connor does. His eyes follow the young couple at the end of the bar, arguing in flirtatious whispers and brushing shoulders suggestively; the group of office workers venting over their drinks, gesturing for emphasis and sending vibrations across their table; the steady stream of people wandering through the door, shedding coats in the newfound warmth, cheering and greeting their waiting friends.

Hank would laugh if he called it a hobby, so perhaps it’s best to call it a study: with deviance comes emotion, but emotions mean nothing without literacy and context. Connor watches the ebb and swell of the crowd, searching for the telltale clues of emotion in faces and posture, mapping every twitch of brows, every smile, every dart of the eyes. It’s arduous and frustrating, but he’s building a map of feeling: reading the expressions of others and trailing red thread to where he discovers the same spark in himself.

[read on ao3]

[xoteajays]

animated/games/interactive fiction

digimon adventures

name: yukimi ‘yuki’ ono ship: mimi tachikawa digipartner / crest: lopmon / perseverance faceclaim: kayo hinazuki, yuzuru nishimiya, mitsuha miyamizu summary: In one word to describe Yukimi Ono: quiet. Quiet in life, quiet in everything. Everything but her anger. If anybody had bothered to get close, they might just have seen what was right below the surface. A girl stuck in the past, persevering after the worst thing that can happen to a person. The loss of a twin. Himari, dead at barely ten years old, leaving behind a broken family and a sister struggling to move on. Then came summer camp, the digital world and Lopmon, and Yuki had to pull herself together because now the world (both real and digital) was counting on a bunch of kids to save it.

pokemon

name: rhythmi ship: elite four rika team: skitty, tinkaton, grafaiai, tastugiri, appletun, phanpy faceclaim: maki kuwana summary: As far as Rhythmi is concerned, she’s got no future to head for. Her Kalosian adventure went up in flames and now her mother is moving them off to Paldea to join her somewhat-estranged father, Saguaro, at some ‘Naranja academy’. She has no interest in going back to school but she has no choice in the matter, not when she can tell how her mother is worrying about her. She, at least, doesn’t have to resort to ditching class when release comes quick in the form of this ‘treasure hunt’. She’s got her options laid out ahead of her now, a whole sprawling region … but a green-haired elite four member Rhythmi keeps running into is really throwing a spanner in the works.

[ fics / here ]

name: cirsi ship: guzma team: brionne, alolan raichu, cutiefly, bewear, to be adjusted faceclaim: itsuki nakano summary: to be decided.

infamous-if

name: herah heart, born hellena ambrose ship: orion quinn faceclaim: salem mitchell band: spider lilies summary: From humble beginnings comes the newest band to grace the botb, Spider Lilies. With popular hits like wallflower and tethered, fans of the band were ecstatic about their win and were quick to defend them when news hit of the ensuing post-win clash between Underground Wastebasket and Spider Lilies - curiously, lead singer Herah Heart was nowhere to be seen during this brawl, arriving later in the evening with band manager Orion Quinn to pick up her battered bandmates.

name: benji butcher, born benjamin sawyer ship: g reign & victoria valentine, ex-boyfriend seven faceclaim: joseph quinn band: DEVOUR summary: If there’s a party to be had, DEVOUR will be there! High school friends turned bandmates, the newest band joining the botb is headed by Benji Butcher. Known for his high energy performances, it’s no surprise the audience goes crazy whenever they get on stage. However, new to fame and a newer face on the scene, there’s a rumour going around that DEVOUR rigged their most recent win against fan favourite Underground Wastebasket.

avatar: the last airbender

name: ila ship: zuko bender: waterbender summary: A southern water tribe girl who left the water tribe at about age 13. She'd long since being practically an orphan since her father left with the other men to fire in the war and her mother died of illness. She'd been nomadic and traveling on her own ever since. It's not until meeting Zuko and Iroh on the boat to Ba Sing Se that her life starts to get complicated. Joining the Gaang, Ila is thrust right into the middle of the war, a horrible place for most to be but especially for a pacifist like herself.

detroit: become human

name: morgan nix ship: connor rk800 faceclaim: alex chen summary: Morgan Nix was practically a nobody. The ghost-writer for the famous android singer, NT200 - or 'Nita' as she was dubbed. Her life is simple enough, the pay was good enough to get by with. Then Nita becomes deviant. Having always cared for the human, Nita invites Morgan to run away with her. However, people are quick to notice their favourite android celeb going missing and Cyberlife's RK800 is put on their case under the assumption that Morgan had been kidnapped by NT200.

[steves-on-a-plane]

Deviant Halloween

Part Two Words: 1415 Pairings: Reader x Connor (Rk800) Summary: Connor invites reader to a Halloween party at Hank’s where Lt. Anderson reveals something he didn’t think was actually a secret. Author’s Note: Honestly this started out as what if Connor was Hank for halloween and the rest came out of that. 🤷‍♀️ might do a part two if there’s any interest. 

“Detective [Y/N]?” You looked over from your workstation monitor to see Connor standing by your desk.

“Connor.” You smiled and offered him an acknowledging nod before looking back at your monitor.

“You have not responded to my invitation.” He told you in his usual level tone. As always Connor’s voice was void of emotion or accusation. He was just stating a fact.

“Wait what? What invitation?” You turned away from your work again to give him your full attention.

“One month ago, I sent you an email invitation to a party. The event is soon and you have not responded. I would like to know why.” He explained.

“Party?” You tried to think back. Connor hardly ever sent emails to you that weren’t business related. There was the occasional meme or dog video but other than that... “Wait, do you mean the invitation you sent me for a Halloween Party at Hank’s place?” You reached for your phone and started searching through your emails. Luckily you never clean out your inbox. After a few taps, and filtering by sender, you found the RSVP in question.

“I didn’t respond because I thought it was a joke. Hank’s not exactly the party throwing type.” You reminded him

“It’s not Hank’s party.” Connor said. “It’s mine. Hank was just nice enough to let me use his house, but I can see how that might be confusing.”

“Oh, I’d love to come to your party Connor.” You tapped the box next to ‘going’ before sending the reply. “Sorry it took me so long to respond.”

“It’s alright. I look forward to seeing what your costume will be.” Connor nodded politely before walking off to accomplish some other task.

“Right.” You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “My costume…What the hell do you wear to an android’s Halloween party?”

In the days that followed you thought long and hard about what you wanted to wear to Connor’s party. You’d considered Sarah Connor and other characters from the Terminator franchise but thought that might be too on the nose. You thought about going the easy route, a cop, after all you had a few of your old uniforms lying around somewhere. Still this felt a little lazy. Timing played a large part in choosing your costume too, it wasn’t exactly easy to pick a good costume two weeks before Halloween.

The night of Connor’s party you felt a nervous feeling building in your stomach. Your costume wasn’t as jaw dropping as you had hoped. It was simple. A pair of brown leggings, a brown long sleeve shirt, a furry brown vest. The look was topped off with a blue choker necklace and your hair pulled into pigtails to mimic big floppy ears. Yup, you, a highly trained detective of the DPD and a certified adult, had shown up to your android friend’s Halloween party in a makeshift dog costume.

“What the hell was I thinking?” You mumbled to yourself as you stood on Hank’s stoop. You stared at the doorbell, wondering if you should just turn back and head home. Too late. Hank’s front door opened suddenly, and you weren’t expecting the sight before you.

“[Y/N]!!!” Connor’s face lit up at the sight of you. “I saw your car entering the driveway.” He explained. You didn’t respond right away. You were still soaking in what must have been his costume. Connor was wearing a baggy pair of jeans with a button up shirt only half tucked into it. The shirt fit him poorly and was covered in a loud orange and yellow pattern. He wore a long brown coat over his ensemble.  

“Connor are you…” You couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you dressed as Hank?”

“You noticed!” Connor acknowledged excitedly. “And you came as a dog? I love dogs.”

“Yeah, ah, I know.” You felt yourself blush.

“Connor, whoever that is, let them in and close the door. It’s freezing outside.” You heard Hank’s voice calling over the music. Considering this your invitation, you didn’t wait for Connor to say anything else. You stepped inside and let him close the door behind you.

Once inside, you could see that you weren’t the first to arrive to Connor’s party. You recognized three or four uniformed members of the Detroit Police department in attendance. There were also two androids in attendance who you did not know. Hank came swaggering over to you when he recognized you from across the room. He was wearing a pair of ill-fitting jeans and a faded tshirt that read “This is my Costume.” Hank offered you a weak smirk.

“Oh [Y/N], Connor mentioned that you might be stopping by.” He said.

“Oh, I hope that’s okay.” You replied worriedly.

“Okay?” Hank scoffed. “He hasn’t stopped talking about you since…”

“Hank, do you think we have enough ice?” Connor interrupted his friend.

“Ice? What the fuck are you talking about?” Hank eyed the android for what felt like a full minute. “Nevermind, I know what this is about.” He shook his head. Sure Connor, I’ll go in the kitchen and make us some more ice.” Hank slipped away from the conversation mumbling about ice the whole time. You thought it was strange behavior for the two of them, but it was also strange for the two of them to be throwing a party in the first place, so you were able to shrug it off.

“Hank let me dress Sumo in a costume too!” Connor told you excitedly.

“Really? Can I see?” You wanted to know. You’d been to Hank’s place a couple of times just to meet up while working on a case. You didn’t typically stick around for very long and as a result you hadn’t spent much time with Sumo. All you knew was that Connor thought the St. Bernard was a big softy.

Connor waved you over to a quieter corner of the living room where Sumo was laying with his head lazing resting on his two massive paws. The dog was dressed unmistakably as Sherlock Holmes. He had a brown plaid cloak wrapped around him and an appropriately sized deerstalker hat, a tobacco pile chew toy laid forgotten next to him.

“He’s a detective.” Connor said.

“Well how about that buddy, you’re a detective and I’m a dog!” You crouched down and offered Sumo an affectionate scratch between the ears. Sumo briefly lifted his head in appreciation but was otherwise unaffected.

“Hey [Y/N], can you give me a hand with this ice?” You heard Hank calling for you from the kitchen.

“I’d better go see what he wants.” You rolled your eyes as if to say ’You know how Hank is.’ You left Connor to join Hank in the kitchen. The senior detective was leaning against his kitchen counter, watching the party and drinking whiskey straight from the bottle.

“I thought you were having an ice crisis in here.” You huffed.

“How the hell did you become a detective?” Hank complained before taking another swig of his drink. “There is no ice. Connor just wanted to talk to you alone, but I want to talk to you first.”

“Talk to me about what?” You didn’t miss how goofy you must have looked tilting your head to the side with curiosity just like an actual dog would.

“Don’t do that!” Hank grumbled. “I want to talk to you about Connor. Listen, you know normally I don’t like to get involved in people’s lives like this but Connor he’s…well…you know emotions are still really new to him and I just want to make sure that he’s not putting himself in danger.”

“Hank, what are you talking about? We’re at a Halloween party, at your house by the way, how would that put him in danger?” You asked. Hank covered his face with one of his hands.

“You’re seriously going to make me spell it out for you?” He complained, the words barely audible through his fingers. “Connor loves you, or at least he thinks he does.”

“I-wait what? Connor? Me?” You looked across the room where Connor was mingling with some of the uniformed officers. “Why?” You questioned Hank.

“Hell if I know.” He shrugged, reaching for his bottle again. “But you need to decide what you’re going to do about it, because I’m not going to let you lead him on and break that kid’s heart.”

“Hank I could never!” You assured him.

“Well, what are you going to do then?” He wanted to know.

[cyberbullyingandroids]

In Blunt Defiance by cyberbullyingandroids [DBH Dom Event]

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con Category: F/M Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Relationship: Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader Character: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Knifeplay, Rope Bondage, Thirium Play (Detroit: Become Human), degradation kink, Self-degradation, Dom/sub, Bottom Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has a Penis, Choking, Power Play, Power Imbalance, Rape, Rape Roleplay, can be interpreted as either in case you become uncomfortable, however it isn't written with implied roleplay, Minor Violence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat Language: English

Get a taste with the first paragraphs below.

Thirium pooled in Connor's head as he hung upside down in a dark and dusty barn. The rope around his ankles held him firm. His optical units blinked into focus. A feminine, human figure sat on a chair some handful of feet away. You sipped on a tumbler of brown-red whiskey.

"Where... Where am I?" His voice came out in a rasp.

"Does it matter?" Your voice was familiar to him. Panic leaked into his veins like harsh ethanol. He had been tailing your criminal activities for months in a game of cat and mouse. Though right now, he was the mouse. Perhaps you'd always been the cat.

Link to fic here. (4243 words)

This piece is part of the DBH Dominatrix Event.

[an-actual-angel]

Pretty Baby Chapters 38 - 39

Pairing: Connor (RK800) x Reader, Collin (RK800-60) x Reader, Richard (RK900) x Reader

Summary: The year was 2082. 44 Years after the android revolution. Things have turned south for humanity. Androids now rule the world, leaving humans to be considered as mere animals. While some Androids still have a general disdain for humanity some have taken to the idea of keeping them as “family pets.” You, born in captivity, specifically bred to be the perfect pet happen to get adopted by the RK brothers.

Notes:  Hi, so it's been a while I know! Originally I wanted to take a break from writing to focus on my mental health and life, etc, which had been going to plan. When I tried to get back into writing, this chapter just had me stuck for the longest time, I really just wasn’t sure how to approach it! So day by day I would write a line or so. Then one day my laptop decided to stop working, and since I was a fool who forgot to back up my writing I had lost all progress I did on the chapter I had been working on so I felt super defeated. So I took another long-ass break from writing. Anyway eventually decided enough is enough, I need to write this bloody thing so voila! Better late than never!

(If anyone wants to be added to the tag list, either dm or reply to this post <3)

Previous Chapter | AO3 |

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Chapter 38 - After Dark

The feeling of the warm cotton bathrobe against your freshly washed skin was absolutely heavenly. You really did miss the baths you used to take at the RK’s apartment after having to get used to washing from an old rusty bucket in the settlement.

God, everything smelt so good here.

You tied the robe tight around your waist before stepping out into the cooler hallway, the soft cushion of your black fluffy slippers felt like mini mattresses as they plodded along the dark marble tiled floor. Yeah, you definitely missed your creature comforts.

As you edged the corner you were met with Richards dark frame, thankfully you didn’t crash into him as he was carrying a steamy mug of something.

“Here.” He handed you the white porcelain mug.

Taking it from his hands you realised it was your favourite brand of hot chocolate, you would be lying if you said you knew he’d remember you mentioning it.

“Thank you.” You hum as you lift the mug to your lips, giving the foamy liquid a gentle blow.

Richard nods as he places a hand on the back of your arm, directing you into the now lit living room.

It was 3 in the morning by now and the city still looked very much alive. The other two Rks crossed your mind.

“Where are Connor and Collin anyway?” You ask Richard.

“They’re out.” He replies dryly as you both walk over to the window overlooking the city. “Working.”

“They don’t usually work this late.” You say, eyes scanning over the skyline of neon lights.

“Yes. Things have been quite different since you left.” He nods. “The riots…”

“I see.” You purse your lips.

“Well I mean it’s good.” Richard shrugs as his voice picks up a little. “That Collin's out of the house.” He explains himself.

“What do you mean?” You turn to the android, finally lifting the cup up for a sip.

“Remember when I mentioned him being in a bad way.” Richard begins. “Well, he’s been spending a lot of time on his own, taking days off work, drinking… more than usual.”

You felt your heart drop a little.

Dammit Collin.

“Did you not try and stop him, or help?” You wince tilting your head back a little.

“I did, but whatever I say is pointless.” Richard shakes his head in dismiss. “He kind of hates me right now.”

“Did Connor?” You begin to ask without really finishing the sentence.

“He’s mad at Connor as well. Probably not as mad but still pretty pissed off.” Richard looks away from you, eyes settleing on the horizon. “In Connors defence, he did try a lot with Collin but, you know how Collin can be.”

“Stubborn?”

“That’s one word for it.”

“When will they be back?” You ask softly, voice cracking a little.

“It shouldn’t be too long, you’ll still have enough time to unwind if you want it. Or I could go and get them, whatever you prefer.”

“I think I’d like some time to adjust, I don’t want to be rushing them anyway.”

Richard nods. He could empathise with that. He knew you were probably exhausted as well, you had a long day.

“Your room is still the way you left it.” He speaks with a gentle voice. “If you’d like some time to rest.”

“Thank you.” You whisper back, taking his hand in a soft squeeze.

Richard sighs and slowly pulls his hand away from yours but both of your pinky and ring fingers tangle with each others for a brief moment.

“I should probably go and get dressed.” You speak lowely, staring down at both of your hands as they finally separate.

“Your bag is in your room.” Richard nods once more.

---

Being back in your room was stranger still than being in the apartment. It seemed so empty. Just like when you had first moved in. You had gotten so used to seeing it covered in polaroid’s you and Connor took, scattered clothes, random post-it notes from the boys, even seeing your bedside table without a mug or an abundance of cups that you had let pile up was strange. You didn’t want to stay in there alone too long. You’d opt for sleeping on the living room couch instead, it was just as comfy as a bed anyway.

Your hands skimmed over your bag before unzipping it to find something fresh to change into. You pulled out a pair of pastel blue sweat pants and a grey jumper, something simple but comfortable. They didn’t feel as soft as they used to be and probably not as fresh and floral smelling as they had once been when you had lived with the RK’s but they were still clean. Unironed and wrinkled, but clean.

It was something that Richard must have noticed when you went back into the living room as he offered one of his shirts instead. You politely declined. You didn’t really seem to notice that he later snuck your bag away to throw the remaindered of your clothing items into the washing machine.

You soon fell asleep after grabbing an extra blanket off the back of one of the couches and wrapping it around yourself. You slept there happily until about 5 am when your slumber had been interrupted by a slamming door.

Collin was home. He had trudged past the living room without even noticing that you were curled up on the couch.

“Collin!” Richard calls out to him, in which Collin replies with a gloomy stare. “Get in here!” Richard calls out once more.

You push yourself up from the blanket, rubbing the sleep from your eyes to adjust to the bright lights.

Collin, still not noticing your figure half-hidden beneath the blanket on the couch now stands slumped against the entryway to the living room.

“What?” he demands with little patience.

Richard’s brows lift slightly as he then tilts his head in your direction.

Now fully grounded into reality your voice peaks up. “Collin?”

Doing a double-take before becoming aware of your presence, Collin shakes his head as if to wake himself up from the dream that he was now apparently having. A dream he somehow, found himself still in. The room stayed the same.

You’re here! You’re really here!

“Wha-” Collin almost chokes on his words looking between you and Richard. When his eyes fall back to your smiling face he rushed to your side on the couch, carelessly catching his arms around you in an impulsive embrace. “What are you doing here?” he mumbles into your hair.

Before you get much of a chance to answer he pulls away hastily, his eyes scanning over your face, LED spinning yellow. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt?”

“No.” you smile with upturned brows as your eyes survey his own with tenderness. “I’m perfectly fine.”

A breathless laugh escapes Collins mouth before he presses a strong kiss to your forehead then tilting your face up he presses another to your lips. He shakes his head with a small chuckle as you press your forehead against his.

“Richard decided to pay me a visit.”

Collin pulled away from the comfort of your aura to look daggers at his brother, who had been uncomfortably watching this whole reunion take place.

“It’s alright.” Your hand settled onto Collins firm chest, feeling the thrum of his thirium pump. “He said he’d help me. Help us.”

“Help us?” Collin repeats the words that caught his attention.

“I mean humans.” You begin to explain. “He said he’d help.”

Collins dark eyes darted back at Richard, daring him for a response.

Richard nods to his brother. “I’ll help.” He confirms with a steady voice. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”

“Are you shitting me?” A third voice cracks across the room. All eyes immediately flashing over to find out whos. As if it wasn’t obvious.

Connor stood in the doorway, his bag dropped to the floor by his side causing papers to spill out and scatter across the floor. His clothes haphazardly hanging off of him as he stared in disbelief at all that was going on.

“Connor-” Richard begins, standing up off of his seat.

“I need to sit down for a moment.” His eyes look as if they are about to pop out of his head while his mind buzzes around with questions, not able to ask them all at once, he just sits in silence for a moment with his finger to his temples. “What the fuck?” Is all that comes out of his mouth.

“Connor.” You move slightly to sit up, getting a better view of him.

His hands fall on his face for a second before he gets up to move over to you. You stand up to meet him in a hug.

“Sweetie…” He begins. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m so glad you’re here but what the fuck?”

You bite your lips not to laugh at his utter bewilderment. You didn’t know what direction this was going to go, should you be scared, worried, was an argument about to break out? What?

“You didn’t like the settlement?” He asks, before you could answer another question leaves his mouth as he removes his arms that had been hooked around your waist. “How did you get back here?”

Promptly his head moves in Richard’s direction. “What have you to do with this? And did you just say you’d help humans?”

“Connor.” You softly coo his name, placing your hand against his flushed cheek, you direct him to meet your gaze in an effort to calm him.

Connor's eyes settle on you for a moment as you feel him relax under your touch, as if like magic. His eyes melting into your look of adoration.

“I suppose I might have to explain some things.” Richard smoothed his shirt down as he stood stiffly, looking down at the ground.

_________

Chapter 39 - Somethin’ Stupid

Your thumb skims over the back of your lover's hand as you watch him sleep, the gradual rise and fall of his bare chest, the warmth of his embrace. Safe, that’s how you felt.

Inching closer, you rest your head on his chest to listen to the mechanisms of his artificial heart pump. You contemplate the day you spent back in this familiar yet strange place, and what a day it had been.

Another set of hands pulls you out of your thoughts as they begin to move their way through your locks, lightly toying with them. The body that was pressed up behind you, sandwiching you into the chest of your lover moves closer still, freckling soft kisses onto the top of your shoulder. You hum lightly in response as you turn to face the giver of such affections. Connor’s soft eyes crinkled at the side as you turned to him.

“I missed you so much.” He whispered as you turned your body to face him, your back now turned from Collin, who you had previously been laying on. Not that he noticed, still sound asleep. Your brows furrow slightly as you fully face Connor now, you don’t even know if he notices your slight facial change as he’s too busy pulling you to him, closer still.

You want to bite your lip, to bite the words back, to not ruin this sweet moment but you have to know. “Well, why didn’t you reach out to me then?”

His forehead puckered in response, you could see a mixture of confusion and sadness in his eyes but you pursued your line of questioning, you deserved to know. “You or Collin. Neither of you reached out to me. Not a text or a phone call. It was like you both forgot I even existed.”

You see Connor close his eyes for a moment, taking in a breath and shaking his head. “You’re right. I’m so sorry, sweetie.” His eyes finally open again to look at you with immense guilt. “I thought...”

He stopped for a moment and he takes in another breath. “I know it probably sounds stupid and… well yeah stupid, but I thought it might make things worse.” As he finishes his sentence he sits up on the ‘bed’ a little more, his head almost knocking into one of the standing lamps the three of you had used to make the makeshift blanket fort, that yous now lay in.

“The idea of reaching out hurt, the idea of not reaching out did as well. Ultimately I was afraid of only hurting you further. I did enough damage in this situation.”

“Connor.” You whisper, reaching your hand to touch the side of his face, bringing his glance back to you.

“It’s just not fair on you, this whole situation isn’t fair for you.” His voice shakes. “I just don’t know what to do, every decision I try to make feels like the wrong one and I just don’t know how to do right by you.” He begins to stammer and trip over his words now as his LED flashes between colours, making the inside of the blanket fort seem like some kind of rave. “I want nothing more than to do right by you. I’m deeply sorry if I have caused you any worry or hurt, I love you.” His mouth then falls open as he processes what he just said. It was like he was speaking faster than his thoughts could catch up.

Oh shit, what did I just say?  He thinks to himself.

He didn’t want to tell you that yet, especially not now. Not with all the confusion that’s been going on. He didn’t want to add to it. He didn’t want you to make any decisions based on how  he  was feeling. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to stay with him because of his feelings. He loved you but he wanted you to have your freedom, freedom to choose whatever life you wanted for yourself.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want it to come out like this.” He rubs his hand over his face in embarrassment.

Your hand ghosts over the top of the one covering his face until you get the courage to take it in yours.

“I love you too.” You whisper back. “I just missed you.”

He peeks his eyes open at your words, slowly, almost worried he’s being tricked. “You love me?”

You nod. Connor closes his eyes as if to wince as he pulls you back into him. “I missed you, oh god I’ve missed you.” He whispers into your ear as you're now flat against Connor's naked chest. You can feel the thrum of his mechanical heart against you. You almost want to laugh at how much he’s clinging to you as if he’s trying to get under your skin. Instead, you just stroke his back gently and sit in a comfortable silence with him.

“Collin's been the same way.” He responds finally. “He’s missed you so much.”

“So I’ve heard.” You breathed against Connor's soft neck. “Richard spoke to me a little about his recent behaviours.” You glance over your shoulder to make sure Collin was still asleep, he was.

“He’s been acting reckless, more than usual. I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t be saying this.” Connor bit his lip to stop what he felt was like verbal vomit from coming out.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to find a chance to talk to him, one on one.” You allow your gaze to lay on Collin’s form a little longer, your eyes grazing over the bite mark you had left on his neck from earlier. You could barely restrain yourself after being away from them both for so long, a good rough fuck session in a blanket fort was needed, even if that meant some of the blankets kept falling down around the three of you when things got a bit more wild. Luckily, him being an android meant it would be too long for the love bite to disappear, you on the other hand would have to wear a turtle neck the neck day. At least it was only two or three on your neck, your thighs were covered. You looked like a bloody Dalmatian down there.

Your mind wandered again as you sat in silence, thinking back again over the day you had. That morning yourself, Connor, Collin and Richard had a hasty little visit with the mayor, and long time friend of the brothers, Markus. After a bit of convincing he was on board with helping out where he could, Perks of having friends in high places.

Markus definitely was sympathetic to the whole situation, and in fact, had always been empathetic with humans. However he was just weary with the times they were in, the attacks, the riots, humans were not looking very favourable these days. At the same time, Markus knew exactly what that felt like. He wanted to help but these things would take time. The boys agreed they would start with some light reconnaissance, and finding James, Emily’s lover. Richard had that situation under control, with the pull and influence he had. Finding that human would be a piece of cake.

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