#dpd!reader

[bookof-xreaders]

Kris x reader with depersonalization disorder headcannons

Had to do some research, and I was a bit busy, so sorry for taking so long on this!

If you notice anything is inaccurate, please send an ask so I can fix it!

Kris Dreemurr x Reader with Depersonalization Disorder (DPD)

If you try to describe how it feels, Kris will notice some similarities between the two of you. They know it's not the same, but they still make connections.

Even though they're not sure how, they try to give you some semblance of control. This is often done by letting you choose something, even if it's something as small as a throw-away cup.

If you joke about your reflection, they'll add onto it. (It's what they call "you".)

No matter what, they'll try to relay exactly what happened while you were depersonalized. Occasionally the SOUL will try to have some input, whether it's accurate to the situation or not.

If you need something to ground you, they'll often have stim toys on them. If these don't work, will try to find other things that will help. + If you're at their house, they'll suggest making a pastry of some kind. The repetitive actions of stirring batter or kneading dough always helped them, so maybe it'll help you.

[razberry-cookie]

Gaybo

[scarletriddles]

Lost in the fire ˚༄ | S.R

↳ in which the team’s newest case puts your life in jeopardy, at your own accord.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: angst, sprinkle of fluff

warnings: general cm gore/case discussion, fire/arson, injuries related to fire, swearing, references to religion + greek mythology, friends to…? (they’re in la-la-la-love, your honour), some possible inaccuracies (sorry!), small jemily mention because lesbian rights, hopeful ending, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person narrative.

word count: 4.3k

a/n: my first ever fic i’m very nervy🫣i’m not expecting this to gain any sort of traction, but lmk how you find it, i suppose!

“Haley Bradstone, aged twenty-five, and Laura Kilmey, aged twenty-seven, are the most recent victims in a series of murders in Detroit, Michigan. Both victims were discovered four days apart, and only five miles away from each other, their bodies disposed of in black FIBC bulk bags that were left in trash-sites.” JJ pauses, her gaze flickering between the team, almost hesitant as her thumb circles the silver remote. But, with a clearing of her throat, she continues. “Cause of death for both victims has been ruled asphyxiation…by smoke inhalation.”

You abruptly halt toying with the frayed edges of the case file, your eyebrows shooting up and head lifting to look at her, and then also at the rest of the team - who look just as bewildered.

“Sorry, did you just say smoke inhalation?” You ask, genuine confusion weighing down your tone.

JJ nods, her expression dismayed as she eyes the two beaming faces displayed on the board. “Yes, as laid out in the case files, high levels of carbon monoxide, hydrogen cyanide and hydrogen sulphide were found in both victim’s lungs. The coroner also noted soot around the victim’s faces, and TBSA burns, all of which are synonymous with death via smoke inhalation.”

“Carbon monoxide poisoning is actually the leading cause of death in smoke inhalation - causing approximately 2,100 deaths in the U.S each year.” Spencer adds, followed by his familiar flat smile, which he usually does when he doesn’t know what to do with his face - which happens to be always.

You blink, with a slight quirk to your lips, despite the circumstances. Trust your good doctor to know just about everything.

“Were there reports of any fires around the general area?” Hotch pipes up, his face set in his usual stony expression, though his eyes betray his pensiveness.

JJ shakes her head, adjusting her stance. “No, which is what makes this stranger. The DPD reported no calls about any sort of fire on the days our victims were killed.”

“What? So our unsub just…lit a bunch of fires in plain sight?” Derek questions, with a flick of his brow, his gaze alternating between the board and the manilla folder in his grasp.

You huff, turning to face him with a slight smile, musing. “Must be one hell of a magician.”

Derek smirks in general bemusement, his dark eyes swirled with mirth, his tone light as a feather as he shifts in his scratchy office chair. “Looks like it, lil mama.”

Ever the smooth talker.

“Or, he could be using a secondary location.” Emily chimes in, her narrow-eyed gaze set firm on the file in front of her, her slender fingers fiddling with a bullet-point pen, and her lips contorted into a reflective pout.

“That’s plausible, but you’d think at least someone would notice.” Rossi adds, with a slight huff of incredulity, his calculating gaze sweeping across the entire room before him.

The two smiling faces are quickly joined by two more, both just as radiant, both just as nausea-inducing. Those poor girls.

“We don’t know for sure. But, the most recent victims join twenty-eight year old Sarah Holloway, and twenty-two year old Jessica Bailey. Who, similarly, were found four days apart, five miles away from each other and dumped in black FIBC bags, also ruled dead via asphyxiation. However, Sarah and Jessica’s dumpsites were around 14 miles away from Haley and Laura’s.” JJ purses her lips faintly, eyes still fixated on the crime scene photographs of four similar looking women who didn’t even live properly yet, robbed of the chance to, just like Poseidon robbed Medusa of her autonomy, on the marble steps of her deity’s temple. The thought alone just worsens the crease between her brows.

“four victims…why are they only just asking for our help, now?” Spencer ponders, features frozen in contemplativeness. His fingers sweep up to push his black-rimmed frames back to their previous position on the bridge of his nose.

God, you love his glasses.

JJ’s face morphs into a faint grimace, as she replies in a reluctant tone. “Unfortunately, the media managed to connect the dots on this one, they’re dubbing our unsub ‘the smoke-killer.’ But, the DPD really needs our help with this.”

You sigh, eyes trained on the gruesome imagery displayed on the silver screen. No matter how long you’ve been with the BAU, the violence never quite gets bearable for you, though you can’t bring yourself to look away - like witnessing a car-crash. You understand the psychology behind it, shock rooting the human body in place as the brain tries to comprehend that what it’s processing is real.

But, guilt still flows around in your system like the Noachian flood. Maybe, if you thought about it hard enough, you’d feel the ark bashing against your innards as it tries to navigate the brutal waves.

You suppose the violence doesn’t get easier for the team, either. Perhaps that’s what keeps you all tethered to each other, bonded. After all, the Greeks did beat the Trojans in unity - and disguised as a large, ligneous horse, but you digress.

Hotch nods, solemnly. “Alright, we can discuss further on the jet. Wheels up in 20.” And with that, he abruptly stands up, striding out of the room with a sureness in his step that only he could possess, effectively putting an end to the briefing.

The screen then goes dark, the car-crash finally being attended to. The sounds of chairs scraping across the frizzled navy carpeted floor and paper rustling bounces around the small space, as everyone heads out and into the bullpen, all but the exception of spencer, who remains seated, brooding over his manilla file as though he’s a modern day Thomas Aquinas. always thinking. You muse to yourself, though your eyebrow still raises in question nonetheless.

“Reid, you coming?” You probe gently, standing in the doorway with a faint grin. Your eyes flickering like fairy-lights all around his hunched-over frame.

Spencer startles slightly, craning his head up from the file and over to you - a rosy hue creeping up the nape of his neck from the sight of you alone. He swallows, standing up suddenly, and pushing his chair out with his hip, as he breathes out. “Uh, yea-yeah i’m…i’m coming.” He collects his things quickly, scrunching up his case file as he slings his satchel over his shoulder. Though, it doesn’t really matter, he’s already memorised it from start to finish. Eidetic memory and all.

He flashes you his signature flat smile once again, as his muddy hues rake over your appearance. You look pretty today, well he thinks you always look pretty, but today especially. Your hair swishes around your face in wisps like cotton-candy, your frame adorned in your usual grey fitted slacks, paired with a pink striped puff sleeved button down and black leather boots.

He believes you’re the personification of an angel, and with the way the abnormally-harsh office lighting is dancing around your hair in a nimbus-like manner, he’s probably right.

“C’mon then doctor genius, we have an hour long flight to catch.” Your voice rolling out with a teasing lilt, a subtle smile curled around the edges of your glossed lips.

Spencer usually loathes being referred to as a genius, namely because it’s said with such obvious sneer and condescension, like he’s an abnormal form, like he’s still that twelve-year-old high schooler. But, you never say it with thinly-veiled disgust, no, you say it with such reverence- like it’s something to be admired.

Yeah, angel.

He mirrors your smile, eyes soft and starry eyed as he follows you out of the room. “one-hour, 19 minutes and 45 seconds.” He corrects softly, always keen for specifics, his satchel smashing against his upper-thigh periodically as he walks beside you.

You huff in amusement, rolling your eyes in jest. “Right. My bad, one-hour, 19 minutes and 45 second long flight.” Your head tilts up slightly to look up at him, your irises dipped in unsubtle gaiety,

Spencer lets out a huffy laugh of his own, shaking his head in amusement. He loved when you teased him, though he’d never admit that. At least, not to you anyway.

“Oh, forgive me for being specific.” He sounds out, airily, like a dish-soap bubble crafted by small exploring hands, as he places his own ridiculously large palm on his chest in mock-offence.

“more like particular.” You reply, just as you reach your desk, in faux-annoyance, the curl of your lips betraying that fact.

Spencer puffs out another slight laugh in response, as he leans against the edge of your desk, watching you comb through it. His gaze doesn’t settle, darting around the array of trinkets and just general stuff aligning the glossy oak, including the multiple pots of bright pens - some looking vaguely like the ones he’s seen scattered around Penelope’s ‘bat-cave’ - and even a stick-figure drawing of him scribbled onto a canary yellow sticky-note, featuring overly large glasses and converse, which are more akin to clown shoes, alongside an equally as dramatised stick-figure version of Morgan, complete with a badly scrawled out six pack and huge biceps.

He feels a warmth blossom in his chest as looks over the cluttered space. It’s just so irrevocably you.

“particular or not, i still believe everything-“ He begins.

“-everything should be accurate, wherever possible” You mock affectionately, with a barely hidden smirk, still rooting through your things like a squirrel digging for an acorn.

A slight pout forms on his face, bordering on more petulant than anything. “How’d you even know I was going to say that?”

A faint effervescent giggle slips past your lips, your head still firmly pulled down, as your hands continue their wandering through your desk drawers. “ ‘Cause you’ve said that line at least a dozen times now, doc.” You drawl out, still grinning to yourself.

He wants that sound to be his morning alarm.

He rolls his eyes, only half-seriously, a smile lighting the corners of his mouth up like a vegas ‘welcome’ sign. “I have not said that a dozen times!” He huffs out, with a shake of his head at the injustice of it all, his dark curls springing with the movement.

You just smile, continuing to rifle through your desk before you locate what you were looking for, quickly straightening up and collecting the rest of your things before turning to him.

“Well, I’m all set doctor, lead the way.”

“Is that just so you don’t get lost again?” he replies, with an overt teasing twinkle.

You groan, blowing out like a whistle “that was one time! i was still new, and the hallways are confusing!”

He just bellows out a laugh, pushing up off the edge of your desk and beginning to walk - more like stride - his way to the elevators. You in tow, but just barely. His legs are way too long.

“I can put a sign on my back that says, ‘follow me’, if needs be.” He throws behind his shoulder.

“Oh, shut up!” You bark out, not really with any bite. Never with him.

It had been about three days since you landed in Detroit, Michigan. Most of that time being spent cramped up in the tiny makeshift office curated for the team, downing copious amounts of coffee, reading files until the backs of your eyes burned and dodging the borderline leering looks from the mid 40-year-old, beer gut endowed cops.

In other words, it was hell.

The team had made some progress, though. Narrowing down the profile to a white male in his early to mid thirties, who works a menial job, of average height and build, and who clearly dislikes women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow down the ‘Where’s Waldo’ search by much. But still, you really just couldn’t shake the obvious question…

Why go through all the trouble of burning these women, but not completely, just to dump their bodies?

And it seemed that question floated around the backs of everyone else’s mind, too. It was bizarre, to say the least.

Currently, the team is all stuffed in said aforementioned makeshift office space, like sardines in a can, no less. Emily and JJ sat at the table together, as usual, Derek propped up against the wall, Hotch and Rossi stood brooding in the corner of the room, quietly discussing something between themselves, leaving you and Spencer situated in front of the board, where the geographical profile is mapped out.

“He’s operating within a 20 mile radius, dumping the bodies within an area he’s comfortable in. He’s either going to strike here.” Spencer points to a spot on the map with his finger, tapping against it slightly before dragging it across and towards another spot, “or here.” His features were swamped in pondering thought, his honeyed gaze encompassing the sight in front of him.

“Yeah, but i still don’t understand why he’d go through all the trouble of burning them till they die from smoke inhalation, and then discarding the bodies. jus’ seems a lil’ pointless t’ me” Morgan drawls out, his stance wide and his arms folded, one of his hands resting on his chin.

“well ain’t that the million dollar question.” You reply, with a sigh lathered in perplexity, your arms folded in a similar manner, but with one of your hands rubbing up the side of your arm, in a absentminded fashion.

“Morgan’s right, it doesn’t make any sense.” Hotch pauses slightly, contemplating - like everybody else in the room. His dark eyebrows stitched together, and his lips set in a taut frown.

“None of it makes sense, i mean, even the dumping method, why bulk bags and not just plain ol’ trash bags?” Emily questions, sitting back in her seat with an exhale, her legs crossed with her boot-clad foot tapping against one of the legs of the rickety table.

You blink, a thought coming to you at her question. “Theres a Hardware store in the middle of town, right?” You throw out, hands stuffed into the pockets of your black slacks.

Hotch’s brows furrow, as he regards you. “Yes, why?” He says simply, almost curiously.

You shrug, “so then he’d probably be getting the bulk bags from there, since it’s easily accessible.”

Everyone goes silent at your question, seemingly mulling it over, before Morgan responds.

“If so, why wouldn’t he just buy trash bags?” He says, with a cock of his brow.

“Because he wants the victims to be found.” Spencer states, plainly, piling onto your train of thought and rocking back and forth on his heels, as his tongue darts out, swiping his slightly dry bottom lip.

“Think about it, a bulk bag is much more conspicuous than a simple trash bag, he wants his handiwork to be seen - maybe not right away, but he knows at least one person would find the presence of a large plastic bag near a dumpster to be…alarming, whereas no one would bat an eye at seeing a trash bag. Same goes for his M.O, he most likely has some sort of access to an incinerator, perhaps due to his job, which allows him to discreetly ‘burn’ his victims, before dumping them in a way which derives notice.”

His hands flail around wildly as he talks, an endearing habit that makes it seem like he’s so excited to talk about what he’s discussing that, at the minimum, one part of his body has to move with the speed of his mouth.

You smile - more of a secret thing, really, just for yourself - you love listening to that man talk. It’s the eighth wonder of the world, to you.

Everyone nods, the notion seemingly settling into their psyche without much problem, as logically, it did make sense.

“If thats the case, then we have a problem.” Rossi scratches the side of his jaw lightly, his head tilted and his bronze hues directed at the table.

Emily raises her brow, in clear need of clarification. “What problem?” She murmurs out, her head cocked to the side, questioningly.

“We have an unsub who wants attention, and will stop at nothing to get it.” Hotch adds on, sharing a brief glance with Rossi, his expression more grave than usual, before he fishes out his phone, dialling a number and setting the onyx Nokia down onto the table. “Garcia, you’re on speaker.”

“Hello, my favourite crime-fighters! To what do i owe the pleasure?” The shrill cheery voice of Penelope Garcia rings out, immediately bringing a small smile to your face. She really was like bathing in sunshine.

“We were wondering if you could take a look at a hardware store’s sales within the last month, more specifically of FIBEC bulk bags.” Hotch drags out, his arms still folded and his face betraying nothing but his usual stoicism.

“Oh, that i can do upside down with my hands tied, sir! just…one…second.” Penelope’s voice hauls out, followed by the rapid clinking of keyboard keys. “What’s the name of the store?” She asks, her tone focused.

“Sally’s Shack” Hotch replies, his tone equally levelled.

After a few moments, and a lot more keyboard clicking, Penelope finally pipes up again. “Ah-hah! so, it appears that our shack in question has sold six FIBEC bulk bags within the last month, all to the same buyer - well, at least the same credit card was used, ending in 4678.”

Hotch looks visibly taken aback slightly, before he asks “Can you get a name, Garcia?”

“Already on it, sir.” Penelope replies, with her usual peachy tone.

A tense silence follows, only sporadically broken by the clickity-clack of Penelope’s rainbow pastel keyboard. Then, she pipes up again.

“Okay…looks like the card belongs to a 33-year-old, Mr. Eugene Humphrey, who currently works at…” Her words trail off, obvious hesitance behind them “…burns funeral home and crematory, and owns a residence just in the middle of town.”

Everybody seems to pause, then. He matches the profile - Mid thirties, works a menial job which would give him access to a ‘discreet’ burning method and just so happened to purchase the same material used by the unsub, whilst also owning his own property not too far away from the hardware store in which the material was purchased…yeah that can’t be a simple coincidence.

“Pen, does he have a criminal record of any kind?” Your voice floats out, drifting through the confined space like Thumbelina on her shamrock lily-pad.

“I will have a looksie for you now, my sweet sugar muffin, just hang on one second-“ Penelope cuts herself off as her fingers begin their ministrations again, the keyboard rumbling with every tap, a smile edging on your face at the absurd term of endearment.

“Alright…looks like our guy spent six months in juvenile detention when he was sixteen for lighting his girlfriend’s car on fire, claimed he caught her cheating on him with his best friend, youch!”

You can practically see the cogs turning in your teammates heads, looks like you got your guy.

“Okay, thats good garcia, could you-“

“-send his information over? already done, sir.” promptly interrupting the low voice of your unit chief, in a way that is so Penelope, that he can’t really object.

“Thank you Garcia, We appreciate it” Hotch replies in his typical authoritative tone.

“You’re welcome, my gorgeous gods and goddesses, now go and save lives.” Penelope chirps out, swinging on her swanky desk chair, her hands now preoccupied with a bright pink fluffy pen.

“You’re the best, babygirl.” Morgan calls out, his tone suave and a smirk illuminating his features.

Penelope lets out a giggle, replying in her token-teasing articulation. “Only for you, my chocolate thunder, now ta-ta!” Her sing-songy voice sounds out with finality, before the line drops, indicating that she ended the call.

“Alright, everyone, looks like we’re scoping a funeral home. I’ll go inform the captain, and i need all of you to gear up, as a cautionary, is that clear?” Hotch demands, his gaze expectant.

resounding murmurs of “yes” fill out the area, to which the dark-haired agent replies to with a curt nod, before swiftly exiting the room.

You let out a breath, turning to the rest of the team with a faintly reluctant expression. “Let’s get this show on the road then, guys.”

Morgan flashes an easy smile, coming up behind Spencer and clapping him on the shoulder, his smooth voice infused with teasing. “You heard her, pretty boy, let’s get moving.”

Spencer has to resist an eye-roll, his cheeks immediately flushing raspberry red, whereas you just let out a small confused laugh - clearly not in on whatever inside joke that seems to be playing out - turning on your heel and prancing out of the room, leaving the two of them to squabble like 10-year-old brothers.

Though, on your way out, you swear you saw Emily squeeze JJ’s hand underneath the table…

Something went wrong. Terribly wrong.

You don’t know how - hell, nobody on the team knows how, but Humphrey somehow found out you were coming. He might’ve gotten some frustratingly accurate in-tell, or maybe he just… knew. After all, bad news attracts bad news, right? And being arrested for the murders of four women sure seems like pretty bad news. Or maybe he was a paranoid fuck. Either thought seems plausible, but currently pointless.

Ironically, Burn’s Funeral Home and Crematory, was well…burning. The two-story high foundation, which you’re guessing was once a depressing waxen colour, is now engulfed in orange. Bright, blazing orange, and for a moment, you almost believe the sun crash-landed onto earth.

The ignited shades dance across your features , making you look like you’re almost glowing. You hear Morgan let out a few curses, and Emily mutter something eerily close to “Oh my God” under her breath. But, the rest of you remain silent, devoid of speech, heads lifted up and staring at the fiery wreckage. Drawn in, entranced.

You can’t pull your eyes away, Not even when Hotch snaps out of his own silent gazing and begins to talk around you, shooting out instructions like darts to your co-workers. Well, until you hear a fire-man trudge past you, in full PPE and carrying a winding anaconda-like hose, writhing along the gravelled floor with each step he takes, similar orders being barked out of his mouth to his team-mates. But, that isn’t what grabs your attention, it’s the information coming from his radio.

A mother and her child are stuck in there, apparently looking for a casket for her husband before the building went up in flames, and they aren’t even going to attempt to save them - something about the fire being “too large, too risky.”

A mother and her child. Her 8-year-old little girl who just lost her father, and now is going to lose her own life, trapped in a scorching maze.

Not on your watch.

You will not, cannot, let this sick bastard take another girl’s life.

Your legs move before your brain even has time to catch-up, darting straight past multiple fire personnel who all try to stop you, but you dodge each one. Not even the sounds of the team shouting your name halts you, your figure retreating straight into the raging inferno.

What’s that saying? Moth to a flame?

Well, consider the molten-structure your flame. Because you won’t stop, will not stop, not until the mother and her daughter are out. Safe.

Either way, God appeared before Moses in the form of a fiery bramble. And maybe, he was doing it again, instead for their freedom, not yours or a 120-year-old man’s. You were getting them out of this desert, even if there were no miles of grainy-sand and the occasional tumbleweed, but instead hot, piercing, smouldering heat.

Spencer’s astute brain doesn’t take long to register what the hell you are doing. And, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so panicked. He practically screeches your name, moving to go after you, but with no such luck as Morgan and Hotch hold him back. But he fights, and he fights harder than he’s ever had in his life, because this is you.

“Let me go! she’s in there! you can’t just let her go in there!” He shrieks, every word sharpened with utter desperation.

Neither Morgan’s nor Hotch’s replies to his incessant wailing actually penetrates his mind. He feels like he’s underwater, succumbing to the depths of the Mariana Trench, fading black and blue.

The water freezes over the longer you’re in there. Trapped in that dismal, enflamed formation. He feels sick, but he knows spilling his stomach content won’t provide any relief, it’s a sickness that’s lodged itself into his bones, into his very being. He wonders if this is what the Woolly Mammoths felt like during the first coming of the glacial-period, just observing as they, one-by-one, all perished to the frost.

He can’t have lost you. Not before he-

…Not before he could tell you that you’re his first thought when he wakes up, and his last before he surrenders himself to the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

No, this can’t be it. He refuses, he downright rejects the thought.

He just stares, and stares at the lit up property, his whole entity screaming for you to just make it. His mind and mouth spinning prayers to god’s he doesn’t even believe in because if there was any chance of that turning the cards in your favour, then he’s taking it and holding on tight.

The seconds feel like minutes, the minutes like hours. Time is a fickle thing, always stretching and compressing back together again depending on someone’s emotions. But, that philosophy does nothing to distract him from the ache. Because a life without you in it, he grasps, isn’t a life at all. Not one that he wants to live, anyway.

Two soot-covered frames emerge from the fiery entrance, immediately being swept away by fire-personnel for medical treatment. And his heart stops, until he realises you aren’t either of those coughing figures.

Where are you? Why aren’t you coming out?

Time seems to stretch again, expanding like a black-hole over his fitful, beating heart. Ready to consume, ravage. But, maybe, that would be an act of mercy, anything would be an act of mercy compared to the waiting. Agonising, hoping and waiting.

Then…a third figure finally bursts out of the flames. He’s seen that mop of hair before, he knows that hair. Even at a fair distance, hunched over and simultaneously gasping for air and hacking your lungs up, tousled, with skin embedded in ash, You’re beautiful and you’re alive.

You’re alive.

He pushes his body forward and he runs, he sprints and goes to you. And this time, Hotch and Morgan let him.

[write-tama]

"hank.. what am i feeling right now?"

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ connor anderson (4k800) x officer!reader

sypnosis ; connor is very interested in an officer who just joined the police force. after being told the news that they would be joining the team, connor just had to make an acquaintance with them. anything to hear their voice.

containing ; use of you/yours and they/them pronouns! connor struggling to process emotions. hank being a proud father.

author’s note ; hihi! havent written for connor in SO long so i thought this was a cute little way of them meeting each other. connor is a

04.12.24 | 1.9k words

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Everyone knew about the infamous RK800.

The last most developed and intelligent android produced by Cyberlife.

A machine built to hunt its prey and to always accomplish his mission.

But now?

A confused man sitting at his desk, elbows on the surface as he ran the fourth diagnostic this morning.

Connor was never really taught how to feel his emotions, considering that he was forced to compress them from the moment he was made. If he were to feel any sort of emotion, it was either to the scrap factory for him or a hard lecture from Amanda.

But Amanda was gone, and androids were free to express any emotion they pleased.

It’s been weeks since Markus hit the headlines for his famous android revolution. He worked with the government extensively to pass bills in order to settle android rights for the country. Connor, on the other hand, continued to work with the DPD as a full-on detective under the supervision of Liutenant Hank Anderson. Hank was more than just a coworker, but a father figure to Connor. And that brought Connor joy, an emotion Connor was well aquainted of.

But not the feeling he was experiencing now.

Connor couldn’t get his mind off a certain someone who had joined the team a bit before the revolution. You had joined a week prior, and honestly, you were kind of regretting it. As android and human tensions rose, you were on duty 24/7. Originally, you were supposed to start easy with basic patrol around a part of a city, but because you were so impatient in doing the “big kid stuff” you found yourself frequently in the middle of the android and human discourse. Your shifts nearly lasted twelve hours, and you would be absolutely exhausted.

Things are different now. Sure, there were still some situations between the two sides, but it was definitely peace compared to literal boycotts. You sat at your desk idly scrolling through your past cases, making sure that all the information was correct and accurate. On the other side of your desk was a tablet full of notes you had taken after some cases you had to deal with. What you didn’t notice was the android detective constantly glancing at you, watching your every move to see if maybe, at some point, you would notice him.

A loud groan echoing from the desk in front of Connor made him jump, immediately turning his attention to his lieutenant taking a seat in his chair. “Fucking hell..” Hank sighed. “Fowler does nothing but my bust my balls these days, huh?” Connor stared at his partner with his hands folded in his lap and eyebrows furrowed.

“Is everything okay, Lieutenant?” Connor asked, tilting his head.

“It’s nothing too serious. Fowler just wants me to take the rookie on our next homicide case. He insisted that they would be a perfect addition to the team or whatever.” Hank groaned. “Now I’m responsible for two of you fucks.”

Connor, admittedly, felt his thirium pump racing. You? As part of the team? It was almost like he could overheat and shutdown momentarily right now. “I think they would be a great addition to the team.” Connor stated, biting back from smiling. “They have an excellent track record of solving cases in an orderly and timely manner, has caught every perpretrator with their undercover skills, and had a reputation back in their training classes as one of the top students.” He explained. Hank looked over as he was slouched in his seat with arms folded across his chest.

“Jesus, Connor, you sound like some creep searching up their name on Google.” Hank scoffed, half smiling. Though this caught Connor a little off— was he being creepy? He didn’t want to leave a bad impression on you, especially now that you're about to meet for the first time. His face scrunched up in anxiety, feeling as if he made a mistake. Hank immediately took notice and sat up. “Ah— I was just joking, Connor. I’m sure you have uh.. Good intentions.” Hank reassured, though he never said he was exactly good at it.

Hank looked over to you, seeing that you were preoccupied with work despite the fact you haven’t been on a case in a few days now. Hank looked at Connor. “Well.. Why don’t you introduce yourself to them.” Hank suggested, nodding his head over to you.

Connor immediately jolted his head up, a little wide-eyed to even suggest such. “O-Of course.” Connor stuttered out. Connor never stuttered, and though Hank was in a mood after his exchange with Fowler, he certainly didn’t leave that unnoticed.

“Did you just stutter?” Hank asked, a little amused. “Are you.. Nervous?”

“Of course not, Lieutenant,” Connor replied as steadily as possible. “I am an android.”

“Connor.”

“Yes?” Connor replied, mindlessly.

“You’re a deviant, for fucks sake.”

“Oh.”

Connor, to avoid anymore embarassment from the man he deemed his father figure, swiftly got up and started to approach you. Hank watched in pure amusement, not even wanting to stop the boy from probably embarassing himself even further, but at least Hank had some faith in him. He is Detroit’s best god damn detective.

“Hello, Officer (l/n). My name is Connor. It is nice to meet you.” Connor said, putting his hand out for a shake. You looked up from your computer screen only to be met with the most chocolate eyes you’ve ever had the privilege of being in the prescence of. He smiled politely, but behind that smile he thanked Elijah that androids could not sweat, otherwise you would’ve felt the claminess of his palm.

You took his hand and shook it firmly. “A pleasure to make your aquaintance. My name is (y/n).” You smiled generously, and wow, did Connor felt like his pump couldn’t get any faster.. He cleared his throat before darting his eyes to the unoccupied chair that sat next to your desk.

“May I?” Connor asked, gesturing towards the seat.

“Of course, I’m not doing much anyway.” You nodded. Connor took a seat, and for some reason, he struggled to even maintain his balance as he sat himself down. He nearly had to think about how to fold his hands before placing them firmly on his laps and looking at you. Thankfully, you barely realized any sort of struggle as you looked away to take a swig of your morning coffee.

“So..” you said, clasping your hands. “Am I in trouble or anything?” you joked. Connor immediately shot his head up, worried he had made the wrong impression.

“Oh, no— I—” Before Connor could sputter out an explanation, you tilted your head a little and started laughing.

“Relax! I was just kidding!” You playfully waved off. Connor’s shoulders immediately relaxed as a breath he didn’t even know he was holding back escaped his lips. You looked at him curiously, a smile still resting on your face.

“I’m sorry. Usually, I am not like this.” He said, shaking his head a little in embarassment. He was always on his A game and constantly prepared. Why were you the reason for this disruption. “I.. Uh..” He couldn’t think of anymore to say. Suddenly, he got a message through his LED.

NEW MESSAGE:

HANK: tell them u think theyre pretty.

Connor blinked a bit, registering the text message. Hank was at a perfect view watching this unfold. The back of your head was visible but he could see all of Connor’s reactions, who desperately tried to maintain a polite smile.

“I think you’re very pretty, (y/n).” Connor complimented.

“Oh— ah—” A subtle blush began to form on your cheeks as your eyes widen a little, not expecting a compliment from a handsome android such as Connor. “Why thank you, Connor. I wasn’t expecting that as our first conversation.” You chuckled a little. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

Thirium was rushing through his circuits and to his cheeks. The faintest color of blue appeared dusted on his face. “Thank you.” He maintained a calm, neutral voice. They stared at each other for a minute, sort of registering the sort of corny first conversation the two of you had.

“Ah.. I almost forgot to mention.” Connor snapped back to reality. “I came here to introduce myself sfter I heard that you were joining our team on our next investigation. It’s good to make an aquaintance with our future team member.” Connor smiled politely.

“Why thank you. I am very excited to work with you and Lieutenant Anderson.” You nodded. “Though I will miss working with Gavin and Chris’ team.”

Ah, that’s right. You used to work with Gavin. It almost left a bad taste in Connor’s mouth knowing that Gavin probably spat some awful opinions about him to you. Though from the looks of it, you were enjoying your conversation with him which eased him.

“I promise we will a provide a welcoming and safe space in our team, and of course, to make sure you don’t come into harms way.” Connor assured. Though he was mainly promising this to you personally. God forbids Connor seeing you get hurt.

“Why thank you, Connor.” You said, tilting your head. Connor was rather intriguing to you— an android acting this way around you. His LED constantly switched between yellow and blue as if he was making sure to process every word you uttered. Yet he was so human— he would scratch the back of his neck, fidget with his fingers, and shuffle a bit in his seat. You would think someone as advanced as him would at least be able to have a composure, but he was different. It was something you admired about him.

“(l/n), in my office!” Captain Fowler called from the balcony of his room. You looked over to Connor before sighing.

“Well, boss is calling me. I’ll talk to you afterwards?” You suggested as you stood from your seat.

“Of course.” Connor replied, shielding his excitement. He stood up from his chair as well. “I’d be happy to talk again, (y/n).”

“Likewise.” You winked. With that, you left your desk and headed straight to Fowler’s office. Connor stood shellshocked. Did you just.. Wink at him?! Connor’s eyes slowly drifted to Hank, who was chuckling heartily. He gave Connor an assuring thumbs up as Connor made his way back to their desks.

“You’d be a shit detective if this is how you acted all the time.” Hank snickered. Connor grinned a little before taking a seat back at his desk.

“I know.” Connor sighed, leaning a little back in his chair. He at you through the glass walls, noticing your upright posture and the way you listened intently to Captain Fowler’s words. He looked over to Hank before thinning his lips.

“Lieutenant?” Connor asked.

“What is it, son?”

“What am I.. Feeling right now?” Connor asked, a little lost on how to explain it. “I can only think about them— only envision them when I close my eyes. I get nervous and its like my programming has reduced to 0s and 1s.” He sighed, hell, even a little frustrated that you had this affect on him.

Hank with a wide smile, shook his head and looked at Connor with a knowing stare. Connor looked up, both lost while desperate for an answer and maybe even a cure. Hank sat up and made sure to look at Connor right in the yes.

“Connor,” Hank sighed, grinning. “Son, that feeling your experiencing is called love. And your plastic ass better get used to it.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

thank you so much for reading towards the end ! im sorry if its a little messy-- i quickly had to post this before hanging out w some friends but i just wanted to get this out of the way rq! reblogs, replies, and even likes are so so appreciated <3

[paleepeaches]

Happy Valentines Day

(Connor Rk800 x Fem Reader)

Warnings: Idk NSFW so 18+

Word count: 2422

Summary: It's Valentine's Day and instead of making Connor dinner you let him fuck your brains out.

A/N: This took way longer than it should have. It's pretty mid.

Tags: If you're still interested @joelsfavoritegirl

You were a festive person. Always have and always will be. Valentine's was your favorite holiday not only because of the pink and red strewn across supermarkets and stores but because it was a day of love: a reason to celebrate you and Connor’s union. You were sentimental. Sensitive and a bit of a sappy girl when it came to things like that. Connor was fully aware of it. He made note of it when you first got together. How you pouted up at him. Your bottom lip jutting out slightly covered in your lipgloss. When things didn’t go your way your pretty doe eyes would water with tears and coat your spiky lashes. Seeing you so whiney and needy all the time was an adorable sight. Especially when it came to him. You’d pout every time he had to leave for the DPD every morning. Today was no different.

“Do you have to go?” You fluttered your lashes up at him. 

Connor turned his head to look at you while he did his tie. His hands skilfully mastered it. He felt his resolve waver seeing you so like that. You’d just gotten up. Hair was a bit messy, eyes a bit tired but what you wore got him. It was the babydoll nightdress. Baby pink in color and the cups on it hugged your tits so nicely. It was sheer and cut off at the top of your plush thighs. He had to resist throwing you on the bed and just fucking your brains out. Poor baby girl didn’t know what you were doing to him.

“I have to. Hank needs me for another case. Plus who’s gonna make enough money to take care of you?” He cooed down at you with his signature smirk. 

You huffed out a sigh nodding in understanding. “Okay but are you gonna be home on time to celebrate? To eat dinner and do….other activities?” You blushed at the hint you threw out. Connor had been balls deep inside of you, lapped viciously at your pussy, and had you whining and calling him daddy yet you were still so timid. He nodded his head trying to hide his amusement at your shyness. 

“Of course,” He smoothed out his jacket and reached a hand out to you. He cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek and relishing in its softness. “I’ll never keep you waiting. You know that.” He leaned down and placed a peck on your lips. He could taste that lingering lip balm on you. Cherry. You always had to have it cherry-flavored. He licked his lips tasting it and hummed. He reluctantly let you go as soon as he felt his cock begin to throb to life. Just kissing you was enough to send him into a feral mood.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He promised you and grabbed his car keys leaving you wanting and yearning for him.  

You filled your day with meaningful tasks despite the growing ache of Connor leaving you high and dry. You were dedicated to making this Valentine’s Day one he would remember. 

You had decorated your shared home in heart-shaped garlands and had a few scented candles going. If it was any other Valentine’s Day involving a human with functioning organs then you would have made a delicious meal and set wine out. However, this was Connor an RK800 model who didn’t need food or water to keep functioning. So you had to get creative which was why when he came home he was happy to see the festive decor, the soft glow of the candles around the living room, and the trail of petals leading to the bedroom.

You knew it was a bit cheesy of a tactic and overused but what other things could you have possibly used as a romantic trial? Connor had come home with flowers and of course, a gift for you held in the other hand. “Y/N…” He called out softly as he pushed open the bedroom door. If he had lungs they would have surely strained and stopped his breathing. He’d seen you in proactive wear before but this was the cherry on top. 

You sat knelt on the plush soft bed with each leg under you. You wore a babydoll lingerie top that cupped your breasts, making them sit so pretty on your chest. The top was thin, sheer, and baby pink bringing out the color of your skin. A pretty bow sat in the middle between the valley of your breast effectively accentuating your body. A thong was keeping your pretty puffy lips in place from falling out. Connor could see you went all out this year. He set the gifts for you on the dresser and walked meaningfully towards you.

“You like it?” You giggled softly a playful smirk on your pouty lips. Connor sat down next to you, the bed dipping in the process. “Of course I do sweetie.” He moved your hair aside with his hand and leaned in kissing you on the exposed skin of your neck. You inhaled sharply your eyes softening and body feeling like putty. 

Connor was programmed to analyze and interrogate deviants. So, naturally, he was able to figure out what aroused you and what didn’t. He knew of all the special spots on your lovely skin. His lips skilfully kissed your neck leaving hot wet kisses. You mewled delightfully for him making his cock harden.

He leaned into your ear whispering, “You sound so fucking pretty.” 

It caused a pink shade to cover your supple cheeks. He never ceased to make you blush even when he wasn’t trying to fuck you.

“Lay down, I wanna taste you.” He lightly pushed you down to lay on the bed. Your hair was sprawled across the sheets and your arms were at your side. Connor spread your legs and dragged you towards the edge of the bed. He kneeled before you, slipping your thong off. His fingers skillfully spread your puffy folds revealing your wet slick cunt. 

“I haven’t even touched you and you're already soaking.” He smiled cruelly at you. 

“Connor…” You whined out, hips bucking up to get him to taste you, finger you, anything. 

He laughed at your desperation, “Always so needy.” Connor didn’t want to give in to you just yet. He wanted to draw it out, have you begging for him to touch you. His plans quickly changed when he saw your pleading eyes and fluttering lashes. You looked so docile and cute that he couldn’t help but give in. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” He spread your pussy folds further getting a good look at how drenched you were before giving you a long lick. He was hungry for you, tongue swirling around your clit and lapping at your puffy folds. 

“Fuck C-Connor-” Your moans were broken and rough as he continued his assault. Your eyes rolled back and your hands immediately tugged on his hair.

“You taste so good.” He muttered the vibrations of his voice over your clit caused you to throw your head back. 

He took your whines as fuel and dipped his tongue deep inside your hole. He groaned feeling it grip and clench, greedy for anything to fill it. He retracted his tongue humming and relishing in the sweet taste of your juices. 

“Shh baby you’re doing so good for me.” He cooed to you and before you could reply he plunged two long and slender fingers into you. You gasped for air, body squirming under him. He had to hold you in place to keep you from moving.

“Connor I-I think I’m gonna cum-” You choked out, voice cut off by his fingers slipping out with a loud squelch. He smirked down at you and you knew he’d refuse to give you an orgasm. At least not with his fingers.

“Connor, please.” You whined out for him desperately clawing at his trousers and tugging his belt. You wanted to see him, stop this torture, and have him fuck you raw.

He smiled down at you, tilting his head slightly to the side. “You’re so needy Y/N.” Connor slapped his hand down on your cunt making you yelp. It came out breathy and far from painful. His hand smacked you again, hitting deliciously against your throbbing clit.

Connor engrained your reaction into his hardware, studying, and learning. He yanked off your babydoll lingerie, pulling it over your head and leaving you in nothing but your bare skin. 

Connor was quick, fingers deftly opening each button of his shirt. His belt was next, his hands deftly moving to unbuckle it. He threw it on the floor, making it clang against the hardwood. He pushed down his trousers and underwear down and his face fell in relief. His cock sprang free, the head was swollen and leaking pre cum. 

At the sight of it, you felt your hole flutter and clench around nothing. You squirmed on the bed, withering in need. “Connor please, please, I’ve been a good. girl” You mewled out, batting your sweet lashes up at him.

There was something so thrilling and almost primal about you laying before him so vulnerable. The way you begged for his cock had him hardening even more. You never ceased to make his heart clench and cock jump from how sweet you were.“Shh, baby it's okay. I’ll give this pussy what it needs.” He cooed to you so softly.

Connor pumped his cock a few times, his pre cum seeping from the tip and spreading over his shaft. He pushed your legs up to your chest and lined his cock up to your hole. He could see your pretty pussy tighten up in anticipation. An amused exhale left his nose as he looked up into your eyes. They were foggy, glassy with lust and pure need. 

Connor pushed the head of his cock in and he groaned, hand coming down to the side of your head to brace himself. He gripped the bedsheets below you two and his face scrunched up in restraint. He knew first penetration was always hard for you. Your poor pussy couldn’t take so much cock so he had to take his time. He struggled to keep his composure and just thrust his full length into you. He knew if he did you'd cry out, sob, and claw at him. It was thrilling.

He sighed out and smoothed the skin on your hip with his palm. "Relax baby." With each second that passed he slipped in further and further in taking his time to stretch you out.

You were a mess below him, clawing at his shoulders and back. If he were human you would be sure he'd have red claw marks on his porcelain skin.

You panted like a bitch in heat, cunt clamping hard on him. “M-more, more Connor, I can take it.” You pouted up to him.

Connor chuckled at your bold statement. “You can take it huh?” 

“Y-yeah I can take it-”

Connor slammed his cock into you causing a yelp to escape your throat. The big stretch was painful as his tip bumped your cervix. Your body jolted upwards away from him but he just pulled his cock out and shoved it in again.

“Thought you could take it, princess. This is what you’ve been whining about?” Connor smiled down at you cruelly. He folded you in half, pushing your legs farther up to your chest. His cock slipped further in, making a lewd squelching sound.

“Y-yes!” You cried out in response.

“Then stop fucking complaining and take my cock like a good girl.” Connor leaned down and kissed you roughly, tongue slipping into your mouth. His hand gripped your chin as he pumped his cock into you.

His heavy balls slapped against the plump flesh of your ass. The noise echoed around the room, bouncing off the walls and into your ear. Your juices leaked out of your cunt, coating his cock and dripping down his balls. He could feel it warm them and groaned into your mouth. He pulled back from the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours. “That’s my good princess, fuck clench down just like that.” 

You blushed, your pussy clamping down on him just from the compliment. “Ahh! Mphm! Fuck…Connor!” You were loud letting high-pitched moans fall from your pouty lips. Your eyes rolled back and you bit down on your lip relishing in the sweet bliss of his cock.

“Don’t do that. I wanna hear you.” Connor smacked your face lightly and you released your bottom lip from your teeth. 

“C-Connor I’m not gonna- I can’t-” Your words were chopped up, as you struggled to speak. They came out in whiney babbles and Connor couldn’t help but become amused. He thought you looked so cute like that. Your face controted into pleasure, words not even forming sentences just sounds. He loved seeing you completely drunk on his cock. 

“Good girl, just like that.” He praised you. He pressed the pad of his thumb to your swollen clit, rubbing slow and tight circles around it. You cried out, clawing at his back. Your bambi eyes brimmed with tears. You blinked, lashes fluttering and coated in the wetness. Fat tears rolled down your pink cheeks as you came.

Connor noticed but didn't fret. You would cry often due to the pure delight of cumming. He leaned down, cooing to you and licking them up with his tongue. He could taste the bitter and salty flavor of your tears.

That simple act made your walls clench down on his throbbing cock. Your legs locked him in place, wrapped around his waist and not letting him retract further than he should. He pounded into your soaking wet heat. “Fuck!” He cursed as you milked his cock. One final thrust into your spongy sweet spot had Connor spilling ropes of cum deep into your pussy. He gave a few sloppy thrusts helping you both ride out your orgasms. Your cream and his cum oozed out as he pushed his cock deep in, making it overflow and spill. You poor pussy was a mess. All fucked out and painted white.

Connor panted for a few seconds but recovered quickly due to his android body. He placed sweet soft kisses on your red cheeks and your forehead. “You did so good for me baby.” His voice was soft and sweet as he spoke.

You smiled up at him, panting softly, “Happy Valentine's Day.” 

[imraespace]

if youre okay with it can u do bllk guys and a reader with bpd or dpd.. its up to u though

WHAT WILL YOU DO WHEN IM NOT THERE? - you have DPD

THIS includes : texts genre: fluff NOTE: i made this one fluff instead and no oliver also this was kinda hard SORRY ITS NOT MUCH

PAIRINGS: ISAGI, BACHIRA, NAGI, REO, RIN, SAE, SHIDOU, CHIGIRI

IMRAESPACE masterlist

[fictionalsownme]

"Whump" | connor rk800 x reader | WIP BLURB

I don't post him all the time, but the connor brain rot is pretty bad lol I also really like whump and I saw this pin on pinterest and that's how this was born hehe. again, not really finished! abrupt ending but you can guess where it goes, established friendship, in my head the reader is a secretary at the DPD but it's not referenced. female reader, reader uses she/her pronouns.

disclaimer: this blurb is unedited and unfinished. just wanted to share some WIPs! Enjoy!

"Connor!"

You found his body slumped on the floor against the wall, his head hanging at an awkward angle.

There was blue blood… his blood everywhere. It was so bright against the blackness of the dirty floor that it almost seemed to glow.

"Oh my god--"

You ran to kneel at his side, nearly slipping on the thirium under your shoes. His legs were straight out like a broken doll's, you could see patches of his plating where his skin had retracted in the damage. Trying to manage your breathing, you gingerly cradled his head, lifting his face to meet your gaze. It was worse than you thought.

Retracted skin revealed massive damage to his white under-plating. Scratched and dented and caved-in. Blue blood was splattered across his face, it poured from his nose and over his lips to drip off his chin. It was immediately clear he wasn't conscious, with glazed over eyes and a slack jaw.

Whether he was in a sort-of standby or already dead you had no way of knowing.

You peeled open his jacket to reveal the center of his chest where thirium pooled the thickest in a gaping, mangled crater. Down to his lap and spilling over the dusty cement. You had no idea what his inner wiring was supposed to look like, but you knew it wasn't this.

"Fuck-- Connor?" You held his cheeks, your crying already starting up fresh once again. "Connor, can you hear me? I don't-- I don't know how to fix you! Connor?"

No signs. No light from his LED, no flickering of his irises, nothing.

You were sobbing in earnest now. Hiccupping and shaking and breathing in harsh, shuddering breaths. You grabbed your phone, trying not to scream when your realized your hands were covered in blue blood. Connor's blood. Your best friend's blood. It took you too long to use your phone, with multiple pauses to wipe your sticky hands on your jeans.

When it finally began to ring, you cradled it between your ear and shoulder. You weren't sure what your hands could do, so you started wiping the blood from Connor's face. Away from his eyes, off his cheeks.

"This is Markus."

"Markus! It's me, you gave me your number in case of emergencies-- It's Connor, he's-- Connor's hurt, he's not awake and there's blue blood e-everywhere and I don't know what to do, I don't even know if he's--"

"Wait, wait-- slow down, where are you?"

"I-I don't know! Some random abandoned building off of— fuck— Riverbank Drive? Connor's been missing all day since he picked up this case by himself and I retraced his steps and I-- fuck, Markus-- I don't even know if he's alive!"

"I need you to tell me his condition so I can get some biocomponents for him-- can you tell anything from what you see?"

You balled the fabric of his jacket in your fist. You swallowed hard, "His chest looks really bad-- it’s all m-mangled and, and empty? He… He's lost a lot of blood— God, Markus, tell me he's not dead."

"I'm on my way with some help, alright? Send me your location and stay with him. If he wakes up, keep him still until we can get there, you got it?"

You sobbed again and nodded, covering your face with a blood-drenched hand. "I'll be here, I promise."

After Markus hung up and you sent him your location, he assured you he was coming as fast as he could.

You kneeled there, clutching the material of Connor's sleeves and crying. You were so useless. For all you knew, Connor was already dead, and you were here, holding his empty body. Androids were more resilient than humans, sure, but all living things had a limit. You'd never stopped to consider Connor was anything other than indestructible.

You heard Markus' footsteps echo through the empty structure some minutes later. You had managed to reel back your hysterical sobbing down to silent tears with some measured breathing but your resolve was… precarious.

"Markus! Over here!”

You didn't see him until he rounded the corner, Simon in step behind him.

"Jesus Connor--" He hissed as he ran to join you at his side. He had a case with him, which Simon got to work opening. Parts and tools, packs of blue blood.

"What happened?" Markus asked you as his eyes flickered over Connor's form, no doubt scanning his injuries.

You shook your head, trying to ignore the tears streaking down your cheeks and the blood on your hands, legs, face. You couldn't take your eyes off of Connor. "I don't know."

"Someone must've taken him by surprise--" Simon began, beginning to dig through his supplies. "Could've been some kind of electrical signal, got the jump on his hardware, lagged him out before the fight even started."

"Is he gonna' be okay?" You asked, now just holding onto the edge of Connor's jacket sleeve while Markus and Simon got to work.

"I don't know. Could depend on how long he was shut down."

Markus' hand reached deep into the cavern at the center of Connor's torso. He pulled out what must've been a biocomponent, mangled beyond your recognition. He passed it to Simon, before grabbing what you hoped was a new one from the case.

He swapped out a few pieces like that, all unrecognizable to your untrained eyes. Until finally Simon was holding one you knew. You'd forgotten it's name, but it belonged in the center of Connor's torso and regulated his heartbeat. That's how Connor had explained it anyway.

Before he situated the final part inside his chest, Markus spent some time repairing Connor's plating and wiring. Adjusting placements, bending pieces back into place, sometimes welding seams just enough to function. You stayed quiet, staring blankly at Connor's limp hand resting on the floor next to yours.

Useless.

You were utterly useless.

You started when Markus kur-chunk-ed the regulator into place in the center of Connor's chest, his hands angling back and forth to ensure the connection.

The faint sound of machinery blossomed out from his center. Quiet humming and whirring, like a computer booting up.

His face was mostly angled toward you but you couldn't see his LED. Markus and Simon were still at work. Connor's eyes still looked glazed over and empty.

You eyes caught on some movement toward the cement. His fingers twitching.

"He's awake," said Simon suddenly. "Keep him calm."

You looked back to his face, and while he still had that unfocused expression, there was something in his eyes. A clue that he could see you. Well, maybe sort of see you.

"Connor?" You tried softly. Your throat was tight with the promise of more tears. That familiar tingling in your nose, the watering of your eyes. "It's me, I'm here with Markus and Simon. You… You're safe."

"What…" His voice came out staticky and metallic. Like it was passing through an old radio. He blinked, slow. "What happened…?"

You swept a hair away from his brow. You hoped in his state he couldn't feel your trembling. As scared as you were, you didn't want to frighten him any further. His head turned just that little bit more towards you. His LED was a dim crimson.

"You got hurt. But you're gonna be fine. We're gonna take care of you."

His eyes fluttered, and he was that little bit clearer.

"You found me?"

You wanted to say 'barely', wanted to say 'by sheer dumb luck', wanted to say 'I almost didn't. I almost killed you'.

"Always."

"Alright, Connor, you're going to start to stabilize a bit,” said Markus finally as he seemed to finish up the last of what work he could do.

He slowly, slowly, turned his head to meet Markus' eye. Like a ghost.

"When you can stand, let us know. We need to get you back to Jericho for more repairs."

"Is he going to be okay?" You couldn't help asking again.

"Now that he's awake, as long as we get him to Jericho soon, he should be fine," Simon reassured. "You're going to be fine, Connor."

“Someone attacked me… I didn’t see their face… don’t remember…”

“It’s okay,” you added gently. “Take it slow.”

“They could still be here.” And his hand took yours in a staggering motion. Weak and slow and disjointed.

“We’re here, Connor.” Markus put his hand on his arm. “We won’t let anything happen to her.”

Even like this… Even with all this pain he was still worried about you.

“I can stand.”

You wanted him to take it slower, to not push himself too hard, but the sooner he got to Jericho the better.

You stumbled back, dropping his hand as Markus and Simon went to either side of him.

They slotted their arms under his and behind his back, helping him to his feet. He actually groaned a bit at the effort. It was a deep, staticky sound you’d never heard from him before.

You walked with them like that, trying not to start crying again. You went a few paces ahead of them to open doors and check around corners as the four of you made your way out.

Every time you glanced in Connor’s direction, he was already watching you with a clouded expression. The look was only made more intense by the smeared blue blood across his face and in his hair. You prayed you’d never see him this hurt again in your life.

“What’d you get yourself into now, my friend?” Markus’ voice carried a slightly teasing tone.

“Bad day at the… office… what can I say?”

When you made it outside to the crisp Detroit air, a car was waiting. You practically jumped in, punching in the destination to Jericho while the two men helped Connor into the car as delicately as they could. You eased him in from your side, bracing him against you. Another strained sound fell from his lips. He was still bleeding, and his lap quickly started to pool with blue blood once again.

“Fuck, Connor…” The whisper escaped you before you could stop it, your hand bracing against his dented plating where the thirium seeped from the seams.

“I’ll be alright… please, just… stay close…”

You pressed your lips together to stop more tears from surfacing. “I will, I promise.”

In some weird way, you’d never felt so close to him before. The two of you were just friends obviously, maybe even best friends, but right now… You felt like he could ask you anything— anything in the world— and you’d do it.

You thought about helping him sit up straighter, but instead kept him held against you. And he leaned into the hold.

The ride to New Jericho couldn’t go fast enough. It wasn’t a boat anymore, so at least you didn’t have to go as far as the docks. The now embassy-style building was closer to the heart of Detroit, and fully fitted with an android hospital, outreach programs, offices for the new android officials (the most prominent, of course, being Markus). A base of operations of sorts.

You’d been once before with Connor, hence how you got Markus’ number. You would never be able to thank him enough.

[urlonelystarrr]

ultraviolence | part two

rk800 'connor' x reader x rk900 'nines'

GENRE → angst, romance & smut

SYNOPSIS → your feelings for connor grew as the android revolution went on, though a new partner makes you question your feelings.

TAGS/WARNINGS → 18+ descriptions of corpses, blood, violence, homicide, child abuse/neglect, creampie, dirty talking, overstimulation, choking, oral(male & female giving/receiving)

CHAPTERS → PART ONE / PART TWO

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after working in the DPD for so long, you never could get used to the sound of your alarm blaring at 5:00 am. by the time you arrived at your desk, your limbs were already aching for the warmth and comfort of your bed - the type of tiredness that could only be satiated by a full night's rest (which you didn't get most nights).

to add onto the poor sleep schedule you had, the past few weeks had been filled with an unnecessary amount of paper work, and most of your time was spent sitting in front of the terminal at your desk. in order to pass the time, you'd make frequent stops to connor's desk, only to be yelled at by hank to get back to work. or you would attempt at small talk with nines, to which he always responded with narrowed eyes and a stern look. it was clear he wasn't fond of small talk so early in the morning.

this morning was no different than the last, as you sat at your desk, bored out of your mind. the day had just begun, and the steaming cup of coffee on your desk still wasn't able to replace the extra hours of sleep that you had missed. as if a silent prayer had been answered, you swiveled your chair around to see connor's lovely face, greeting you with a good morning. "good morning detective, you seem to be in a good mood today," he gave a small smile. "all thanks to you," you smile, not noticing the grey eyes across your desk watching the two of you. connor stayed silent for a moment as his LED pulsed amber, and you followed his line of vision to see nines doing the same. "i've sent the case file to rk900, i've just got a report of a double homicide and a suicide," he briefed. "what an amazing way to start my morning," you replied, sarcasm laced in your tone.

"lieutenant anderson is currently supervising an academy student, and since i'm not authorized to investigate crime scenes on my own, i will accompany you today." connor said, hands clasped behind his back as he looked down at you. nines stood from his seat, making his way over to join connor. you took a sip of your coffee before standing up to join the pair, grabbing your keys and heading to the lot.

"what do we know about the homicide?" you asked nobody in particular. unfortunately you had to sit in the backseat of your own car, as nines insisted on driving and connor took the passenger seat before you could. "a mother had murdered her own two children before taking her life. an hk200 reported that he was a witness and is currently at the station giving a written statement," connor turned around to look at you, before turning back around to face the road. "and this happened how long ago?" you asked.

"around 20 minutes ago," nines suddenly spoke, despite being quiet the entire ride. "did the android mention that she had a husband?" nines looked in the rearview mirror to make eye contact with you before replying, "no, however legal documents show that she is married." he pulled into a vacant area near the house crowded by bystanders, police and news reporters. the three of you passed the digitalized 'POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS' tapes, ignoring people's questions about what had happened. as you entered the home, the three of you split up. as stated in the report, the crime took place in three different areas; the kitchen, the bathroom upstairs, and the last in the children's shared bedroom.

you headed over to the kitchen, where the wife laid motionless at the table, a gunshot wound lodged in the back of her head. part of her brain matter was exposed, and the surrounding area had been decorated in brains and blood. it was a gruesome sight to say the least, but you suspected that it was a little odd position for a suicide. connor stood next to you, moving in front of the corpse and analyzing her body. connor's on sight forensic analysis proved to be quite effective as it saved a lot time, compared to waiting for forensic reports after you had analyzed the scene. his brow furrowed slightly, as he looked at you (not without sampling the blood of course). the weapon - a glock G19, was located next to her hand, along with a glass of wine.

"that's unusual. the exit wound isn't on the back of the head, instead it's in the front. it's a strange way to shoot yourself," connor examined, turning to you for your opinion. "i don't think this was a suicide. i think it might've been a homicide, but we can't say for sure," you replied to his analysis, before leaving to join nines upstairs. connor watched your retreating figure, before reconstructing a possible scenario.

as you walked up the creaking stairs, you took notice of the door that was slightly ajar in the distance. as you neared it, you realized it was the bathroom. you pushed the door open with a foot, immediately noticing the bloodied corpse of one of the children in the bathtub. the water had been drained, leaving the body in a pool of her own blood. the victim suffered three gunshot wounds, one in her chest, one in her right side and the last one in her forehead.

it was sickening to see, but the more you looked the more things you found. the gunshot wounds weren't the only injuries she had, as there were welts scattered across her legs, and faint burn marks on her wrist. the welts could have come from a belt. the sight immediately reminded you of the hk400, the first case you ever worked on involving an android. a bubble of disgust and guilt boiled in the deep pits of your stomach, but you swallowed it and stood up, only to be startled by connor's unannounced appearance. "jesus, you scared me!" you sighed. "i didn't intend to startle you, detective," connor said reassuringly, with his hand on the small of your back. you ignored the comforting feeling of his hand on your back, and moved to the final room, leaving connor to analyze the second corpse.

nines crouched next to the young boy, who didn't look older than the age of eight. he took a sample of his blood, analyzing his DNA like his predecessor. like his sister, he was shot. but forensic analysis suggested he was strangled before. judging by the purplish hue on his neck, it was evident that he'd been choked. "i reconstructed a possible scenario. it seems that the perpetrator came in through the door, and then proceeded to choke the victim before shooting him four times," nines explained, looking at you as you stared at the bloodied corpse on the floor. the carpet had been stained red, along with a stick figure drawing of the boy and his family. a few crayons surrounding the picture had suffered the same fate as the drawing - stained red and broken.

you noticed that he suffered the same marks, which were obvious indicators of abuse. nines and connor had seen it too, the bruises, the burn marks and the welts. "I think the mother might have been abusing her children. maybe she felt guilty after doing this and decided to take her life," your brows furrowed as you examined the room further, noticing the lack of clothes and toys.

"It's likely, as her fingerprints match the ones on the gun." nines said. connor chimed in, adding to nines' analysis. "however, the exit wound on her forehead indicates that she couldn't have shot herself. if she killed her two children, then who killed her?" your brows only furrowed in confusion as you tried to piece together what had happened. judging from their analysis, she couldn't have ended her life. if the hk200 was a witness, then he was lying, because the mothers death wasn't adding up. the husband was also nowhere to be seen, and the gun she used was registered in his name. there was only one way to make sense of this mess, as it had spiraled into something beyond what the files insinuated.

"hello, my name is detective l/n. what's your name, honey?" connor and nines watched in the observation room as you questioned the hk200. "my name is michael," he replied, fiddling with his hands in his lap. connor's brow arched slightly from the pet name, an unknown feeling erupting in him that could only be described as jealousy. "thank you for being cooperative, i understand you've already given a written statement but we'd like to ask you a few questions." you opened the case file, revealing the images taken of the bodies. he avoided looking at the pictures, and looked at you or around the room. the room was designed to be plain and bland, in order to keep the person under questioning focused and not distracted. this allows for them to rely on the detective for any type of distraction.

"what did you do today, michael?" you started off with easy questions to gain rapport, as answering easier questions would put him at ease and he would be more likely to give you more information. you could always scare them into a confession, but that would only escalate the situation and end in a possible destruction. "i did my usual list of chores," he replied. you nodded, "does this include cooking meals?"

"yes," he confirmed. "can you tell me what their mother does? does she help out, or does she rely on you for taking care of the children?" you noticed as he began to shift in his seat at the mention of her. "she left taking care of the children to me, and she'd spend most days drinking." you nodded, "did you have a good relationship with the children?" he took a little longer to respond, his eyes glossy with a type of pain you'd seen before. a look you wished to never see again. but then again this wasn't about you. "yeah, we did a lot together. drawing, playing games, normal things." he sounded hurt, like he was genuinely affected. you felt for him, reaching across the table to offer a comforting hand to him. he put his hand on top of yours, relaxing a little as he calmed down from your touch.

"was she married?" you had asked, despite knowing the answer. it was a simple test to see if he was lying or not. "yes. her husband would come home late and leave early in the morning, so she wouldn't spend much time with him," he explained. upon hearing this, connor did a quick search and was able to find his workplace. it was possible that the husband had left before the crime happened, and would come home to horrible news. "what time does he leave for work?" you asked, and the android replied rather quickly. "he leaves at 7:00am." by the time you arrived on scene, it had been 9:27am, and if it happened around twenty minutes before you arrived, then the husband would have been long gone, meaning the crime would take place around 9:07am.

you pushed a few images of the injuries on the children, waiting for him to look at them. "since you took care of the children, you probably have noticed these marks on them. do you know who caused them?" he visibly stiffened, eyes trained on the images of the marks and bruises. he then stared at his lap, remaining silent. but the look of guilt on his face was becoming more apparent. "i know you cared about those kids. you looked after them everyday. i can see the pain in your face." his brows started to furrow, before he slammed his fists on the table, startling you slightly. nines and connor were quickly alerted by this behavior, bodies tense and ready for anything to happen. "you don't know anything!" he yelled. "i don't, so tell me the truth," you pressed. he stayed silent again, before admitting it.

"it was the mother. she did it," he confessed. "she'd beat them almost every night. one time i tried to stop her but she said she'd return me to cyberlife if i stepped any further."

"then who killed her?" leaning into the table, you watched as he averted your gaze, "she committed suicide." it was evident he cared for those children, and seeing their abuse would become something he couldn't tolerate any longer. it started to make sense, when you placed him in the same position of the perpetrator from connor's reconstruction, it all made sense. she had downed glasses of wine after murdering her children, michael finally had enough, his heart broken over the deceased children - and so he grabbed her gun, and shot her in the back of the head before placing the gun so it looked like she committed suicide.

it seems that he started to realize that you knew what happened - what he did. "we both know that's not what happened." you stated firmly. he quickly shot up from his seat, lunging across the table to knock you to the ground. your chair tipped back, causing you to fall on your back. he was quick to get on top of you, his hands immediately wrapping themselves around your throat, and his skin peeled back to reveal the white plastic underneath. you kicked, and tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he was too strong. your throat burned as his digits dug into your tender skin, his fingers right above your pulse point. it throbbed wildy underneath his fingertips, only encouraging him to keep his silence.

connor was quickly on top of him, a hand pinning him to the table while michael's hands tried to fight the deadly grip of the rk800. nines quickly pulled you out of the room, and as much as he wanted to deal with the hk200, he knew connor could handle it.

connor didn't say a word, and it terrified the android underneath his palm. he could only stare into the hot rage above him, warnings popping up in his screen warning him of a shutdown. connor had torn out his thirium pump, the tips of his fingers holding onto the pump in his hand. hot blue blood splattered over his fingers and clothing, though that was the least of his worries.

"you're going to talk," connor suddenly said. "you have approximately 120 seconds before you shut down. i suggest that you tell me the truth, otherwise it won't be the other officers you have to worry about. it'll be me." he leaned into his ear, before putting his thirium pump back into place. his forearm pushed him down into the table, preventing him from moving. "i won't tell you." michael sneered. connor said nothing, and immediately grabbed his arm to probe his memory. michael grunted, the sensation feeling like a burn throughout his body as connor searched his memories. that was all the confirmation that he needed.

michael was escorted out, and you found yourself in the bathroom again, splashing cold water onto your face. after all that happened today, you felt like you didn't solve anything. the husband would come home to his entire family gone, and you felt like you couldn't save anyone. this feeling of shame and guilt, you felt partly responsible. it brought you back to the painful memories of the last case, but this time you had connor and nines.

"you should go to a hospital," nines suggested. both of the androids had scanned you again and again, all to make sure that you were alright. "i'm okay nines," you reassured your partner. "nines?" connor joined in, his head turned to look at his replica. "yes, that is the name that was given to me from the detective." nines replied, his eyes locked onto his predecessor. connor ignored nines, and asked if you were really alright. his fingers itched to touch the bruises forming around your neck, but he pushed away the thought and focused on your well-being. "you both don't need to worry. i've been doing this for years," you replied cooly.

fowler had come up to the three of you, his intense gaze locked on you. "you should head home, l/n. we seriously cannot have you getting injured on the job again," he said sternly. connor was about to retaliate, but nines placed his arm in front of him to stop him. they made brief eye contact, communicating silently.

'don't make it worse for her,' nines said. connor ignored him, his eyes locked on yours as captain fowler scolded you while also making sure you're okay. you sighed once he left, running a hand through your hair. "i guess i'll be getting home then," you said to both the androids, noticing that connor looked worried. "let me drive you home, i feel partly responsible for your injury," he said, his hand on the small of your back again. you smiled, trying to mask the way your body responded to his touches. though, you had forgotten that connor wasn't the only one who could read your body, nines could too. his LED circled amber as he scanned you, taking note of how your temperature raised whenever he or connor was around. he bid you goodbye, and watched as you left with connor for the night.

the car ride wasn't awkward at all. one thing that separated connor from nines was the fact that connor spent more time around humans, and he knew how to make conversation easier. the sound of the car engine and rain pattering against the roof put you at ease. detroit could be pretty at night, especially when it was raining like this. "i saw you take care of that android, you can be scary," you laughed. he gave a small smile in response to your laughter, "i didn't mean for you to see that. i apologize if-"

"i'm only teasing you," you nudged his arm with a grin, "it was kind of hot." he cocked a brow, his social relations program helping him differentiate the two meanings of the word. "hot? i don't think cyberlife intended for it to come off that way.." you laughed, missing these conversations with the android. if only hank could supervise academy students forever, and you could have both rk units to yourself. "i'm worried for you detective, it seems that you're putting yourself at risk with these cases. you should be more careful," he looked over at you, his eyes flickering to your injury before returning back to the road. you eyed him as he drove, fighting the smile the threatened to crawl up your face at his concern for your well-being. "thank you connor, but that's kind of my job. i knew what i was getting into when i was training to become a cop. i know the risks, but for you i'll be more careful." it was strange for him, for him to smile without making the conscious effort to do so, for his body to do things that weren't premeditated and forced.

the more you looked at him from your peripheral, the more you saw the differences between him and nines. you never would compare them, but they were so different in personality that it was slightly humorous. sometimes when you looked into connors eyes, you couldn't help but feel like you'd give him everything. his eyes ere so soft, and the only thing you could compare it to were puppy dog eyes, the thought of it making you chuckle, causing the android look over at you. "what's funny, detective?" you shook your head, "oh nothing. i was just thinking about how hard it must be being the most attractive detective alive," you smiled. if he could blush, he definitely would. "it must be an everyday struggle for you then," he replied cheekily.

it wasn't long before he was inside of your house, awkwardly lingering at your front door while you took your shoes off. "you should stay the night, it's raining too hard for you to be going home so late." he nodded, analyzing your home. it was a modern space, decorated with matching furniture but lacking any personalized items like photos. "i'm going to change, i'll be back soon, you can hang out here,"you smiled before disappearing into a different room. he walked over to the kitchen, noticing a pet food bowl, and an orange cat purring as it rubbed it's body on his legs. he crouched down, petting the cat gently. the collar was a light pink, with the name reading 'peaches'.

you returned, only to find him very immersed with petting your cat. you smiled, crouching next to him to pet her. "she seems to like you," you said, fingers accidentally brushing against his as you pet her together. "she's nice, i like dogs and cats." you chuckled, smiling from his pure nature. he was so sweet. "androids don't sleep, do they?" you suddenly asked, after thinking about what he was going to do while you slept. "no, androids don't require things like sleeping or eating. however we do have a 'rest mode' where we temporarily shut down to reserve energy." his eyes were attentive to your exposed skin, as he was used to seeing you in long sleeved tops, and a skirt with stockings. but you were in the comfort of your home, wearing a tank top and shorts. he appreciated the view.

"that makes sense, I think I'd go insane and hallucinate after not sleeping for a couple of days," you replied, moving to the couch where he followed you. he looked cute sitting in your girly living room. his eyes flickered between you and your neck, your tank top revealing more of your neck and chest, which he tried to ignore. "it doesn't hurt if that's what you're worried about," you said, after noticing his LED turn amber a few times. he was analyzing you. "i apologize, i didn't mean to-" you cut him off by shaking your head, placing a hand on his thigh which was impossible to ignore. "that's okay, i know you're concerned. it's sweet connor, I'm thankful for you," you smiled. something fluttered within him, it was the feeling he got when he made amanda happy or accomplishing a mission, just without being literally forced to accept the woman. she was long gone, but that's what he could compare this feeling to. who knows, maybe he just liked being praised. "thank you for being understanding, detective." his thirium pump raced from the sudden contact, his skin warming from the heat of your palm. "please, call me by my name. even in the office. you're my friend," you rested your hand on his shoulder, the urge to just touch him everywhere overwhelming you. "okay, y/n." the sound of your name rolling off his tongue was something that you enjoyed too much.

his eyes were trained on the floor, a pang of guilt welling up inside him from today's events. "i still feel responsible for your injury." you sighed, "connor, it's okay. it's not your fault." your hand moved to his, and you held his hand gently. there it was, that feeling again. he wanted you to hold his hand forever. your thumb brushed over his knuckles, and he gently squeezed your fingers in response. you suddenly got shy, as your eyes avoided his and you slightly warmed from what you were going to ask. "connor?" you asked for his attention, and he'd give it to you, no questions asked. he titled his head slightly, finding it hard to focus when you were holding his hand. it was far more intimate than any other gestures you've given, besides hugs, he might've found a favorite. "what is it det- y/n?" he corrected. "can i hug you?" you smiled shyly at him. it was unusual for you to ask since you'd always just go ahead and hug him (not that he minded), but it seemed like in your personal space and a much more secluded area, you seemed to be more nervous when alone with him. "of course you can, you don't need to ask. is that why you were nervous?" he teased, and you smiled before leaning into him and wrapping your arms around his body. hugging him wasn't what you expected- it was nothing like hugging a mannequin, but it wasn't like hugging a human. he still had the warmth and the softness from his skin, but under that was plastic and metal that made his body feel more firm. almost like how you'd touch flexed muscles, his body was similar to that.

his arms were wrapped around your waist, a little more loosely than yours. he liked the way you smelled, your smell was comforting in a way. as an android, he could register smells, but he didn't experience them in the same way as humans. certain smells are tied to memories, like a home cooked meal reminding you of childhood. yet your scent made him feel a certain way that he couldn't describe, no matter how many times he tried to compute it. it was just a pleasurable feeling. you smelled good all the time, everytime you hugged him he'd smell bright crystal by versace. "i have a question, y/n." he suddenly spoke. you hummed into his shoulder, prompting him to continue. "what makes you so affectionate towards me?" you almost laughed at his question, but it made you stop and think for a second. he could feel your heart race, and he didn't know why, it was a simple question.

"because I like you." you pulled away, looking to see his reaction. "thank you, I like you too. it's a great pleasure to be working with you," he gave a soft smile, not quite understanding what you really meant. you laughed, and shook your head. "I meant I have feelings for you. and it's okay, I don't expect you to return them, but I just want you to know that I've liked you for a really long time now."

his brows furrowed slightly, now understanding what you meant. you were worried, did he like you too? it had been strange for him. to deny his feelings at first, to ignore the increased whir of his thirium pump when you were around, to distract himself from how good your touch made him feel. to try to talk to someone else because he felt the need to be around you all the time. lately he's been more accepting of these feelings, and some of the new urges he's discovered. he's never felt the urge to want to touch someone before, to see you do things that were completely inappropriate. at first, he felt shame for thinking about you that way. but when he came to accept that it was probably normal, it was easier to let loose. his silence made you worry, but he was happier than he's ever been in his entire life. his LED was showing that he was currently processing the information, and he tried to hide how happy he really was. "I have feelings for you too, and I don't think I would've ever admitted them because I was afraid of rejection," he admitted, a soft smile tugging at his pink lips.

him? connor? the deviant hunter was afraid of being rejected by you? it almost made you laugh, because the thought was so bizarre to you. "are you serious? you were afraid?" you teased him back, and he rolled his eyes at your comment. he looked at you, and then your lips. you did the same, hoping that the two of you were sharing the same thought. in an instant, his lips were on yours. it was a completely new sensation to him, since the only thing to touch his lips were his fingers when analyzing DNA, so the feeling of your plush lips against his own was very new. he liked it.

your hand found its way on the side of his neck, and you deepened the kiss by gently pushing him back onto the couch. his LED pulsed a steady blue, even if inside he felt like he was burning up. he'd never felt so hot before, the component that circled cool air into his system working twice as hard to keep him from overheating. your tongue ran across his bottom lip, and he couldn't deny that he really liked that. your tongue then pushed past his pearly whites, and he actually thought he might catch on fire if you keep pushing him like this. his hands ran up the small of your back, and he pulled you into his lap, making you pull away from the kiss momentarily - a string of saliva connecting your mouths. you pulled him back by his tie, your fingers looping around the fabric to loosen it. it started with his tie, then his jacket, and then your fingers were slowly unbuttoning his shirt. he tilted his head back, allowing you to kiss his neck and the middle of his throat, your tongue running down his adams apple.

he was experiencing pure bliss, the feeling of your tongue running against his skin almost burning him from the heat. your kisses started in between his collarbones, and then it led down his sculpted stomach. you were pleasantly surprised by his muscular physique that hid underneath his clothes. through the jacket, you couldn't see much, but now you were able to see how strong he actually was. cyberlife intended for him to be stronger, and in doing so they gave him a lean yet muscular physique in order to be faster and precise. you slowly shifted to your knees, kneeling in between his thighs. you pushed his legs apart, and rested your arms on his thighs, while your fingers played with his belt. his cock strained against his boxers and his jeans as he looked down at you. your palm pressed on his crotch, and he clenched his jaw from the sudden pressure. fuck, you were going to break him.

"shit," he hissed, feeling more of your hand pressing on him through his jeans. it was a first hearing him curse, and fuck did it turn you on. before you continued, you momentarily stopped to ask him if it was okay. he nodded, his breathing becoming heavier as you unbuckled his belt. you pulled his jeans down enough to where his boxers were exposed, and fuck you didn't expect him to be so...big. it was hard to hide your surprise at his size, and you finally knew why he was always in a good mood. he smirked, his head tilting while his hand ran through your hair. you pulled his cock out gently, kissing his tip before wetting the length with your tongue. you made direct eye contact with him while you ran your tongue up the length of his cock. he nearly came just from the sight.

"you're so pretty," you complimented, before taking him in your mouth. the artificial muscles in his thighs clenched from the heat and wetness from your mouth, and he didn't know if he could handle being inside you if your mouth felt this heavenly. he let out soft grunts, making you clench your thighs together. you spit on his pink tip, before swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, your hands working up his length. you took him in your mouth again, your eyes tearing up from his tip hitting your throat as he gently thrusted into your mouth. his breathing became heavier, grunting while his head tipped back. you were surprised to feel his fingers gripping your hair, before you realized that he was holding you in place. he grunted one last time, before cumming into your mouth. unlike humans, his cum didn't have a certain taste as it was artificial, yet there was still something delicious about it, and you practically licked your lips clean.

your knees ached from being on the floor, and you were surprised yet again when he kissed you again, this time more hungry. you kissed back with the same amount of hunger, your lust never ending for the android that was above you. you laid on your couch, watching as he placed his hands on either side of your head. it was his turn to be in-between your thighs, and you whimpered feeling his cock press against the outline of your shorts. "i want you just as bad as you want me," he muttered into the crook of your neck, his lips kissing at your jaw and neck. unfortunately you couldn't bruise android skin, but he could bruise yours easily. his tongue licked at your skin, and he began to suck to leave a hickey. your hands traced the muscles on his back, your palms running up and down the smooth skin. "yeah? prove it," you challenged, watching as he nearly tore your shorts off, leaving you feeling exposed.

he was a little overwhelmed by so many urges at once, the urge to break you and leave you begging for him, or to fuck you until you cry. your back arched as he started to kiss your exposed cleavage, sitting up on his knees to squeeze your boobs. he'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about doing this before. you moaned, watching as he lifted up your tank top and discarded it to the side. he kissed your chest, and you arched your back enough for him to remove your bra. he looked down at you, admiring how pretty you are. "you're prettier," he replied to the comment you made earlier, leaning down to squeeze and play with your boobs. he pushed your hips down from moving up into his, his palms holding you down easily. he decided to do the same, and pressed a thumb against your clothed pussy. you whimpered as he moved his thumb in slow circles, applying the right amount of pressure for you to be arching your back.

"my mouth isn't just for sampling dna, you know," he uttered lowly, his lips pressing against your pussy. you felt so hot, your skin burned from every touch. his hands gripped at your thighs, before moving one of his hands to tear your panties off. he didn't know if he could hold himself back, but for your sake he tried. "oh fuck," you whimpered as he ran a tongue up your slit, brown eyes peering up at you for your reaction. your brows twisted in pleasure, as his tongue began to work magic on you. the tip of his tongue swirled deliciously around your clit, before his lips sealed around you. it didn't take you long until you came on his tongue, his middle and ring finger buried deep into you while his mouth lapped at your clit. your abs clenched, your back arching and your toes curling as you unleash yourself on his mouth.

the moans that spill past your mouth are filthy, filling up the room along with the smell of sex. his fingers shove themselves into your mouth, and you're forced to taste yourself while you look up at the android above you. he looked so hot, his lips were slightly parted and shiny from being in between your thighs. his hair was slightly messy from you tugging on it, which he didn't mind. how his hair looked was the last thing he was thinking about. all he was thinking about was fucking you until you couldn't take it anymore. you lovingly suck on his fingers until his fingers are stripped of your taste, your tongue grazes his knuckles as he pulls them out from your mouth.

"is this your first time?" you asked, your fingers tracing his jaw and running down his chest. "yeah," his short response made you grin, and you pushed him back into the couch, immediately crawling onto his lap. his dick rests against his stomach, and you guide it back to your slit, hovering over him slightly in order to put it in. he looks down at your hand wrapped around his dick, capturing all of this and storing it into a special area that could only be accessed by him. he was definitely going to look at this later. you slowly sink onto his cock, the both of you grunting from the pressure. he seems to be in pure bliss, his head tilting back, his pretty pink lips parted and brows furrowed. if you could take a picture, you would. you gently rock against him, moving your hips slowly in order to not overwhelm him. your hands rest against his chest, and his hands grip onto your hips as you ride him slowly. you lean down and kiss his neck, adding onto the pleasure he was feeling right now. soft gasps and groans slipped out from his mouth uncontrollably, as he started to lose himself in the feeling of you clenched around him. you started to move faster, a pace that only brought the two of you closer to your end. your pussy wrapped around him deliciously, your wetness dripping down and spilling onto his thighs. he wasn't going to let you have all of the control, though.

it might have been his first time, but he sure knew how to fuck like he'd been doing it for years. he suddenly picked you up, with his cock still inside, and pressed you up against the nearest wall. you gasped, legs and arms wrapping around him in fear of being dropped. "don't worry, I'm not gonna drop you," he murmured against your neck, his strong arms holding you up with ease as he started to pound into you. your head titled back as you pushed your hips into him, his inhuman stamina keeping you up in the air, while miraculously being able to hit the spot that made you nearly scream.

"c'mon, take it, i know you can" he encouraged, his cock hitting that spot that made your toes curl. "cum on this dick, i know you want to," he continued, his voice low and demanding as he leaned next to your ear. it was different from how he spoke at the office, with professionalism and respect. but right now, he was fucking you like he had no respect for you, like he hated you. his pace was brutal, filling your pussy up until you couldn't take it. his cock rested heavy inside you, stretching your pussy out in the best way possible. his hand held you by the throat, while his body supported the weight of yours. "oh my god, fuck," you whimpered, your pussy clenching around his cock before you came all over him. he grunted, gasping as his cum poured into you, combining into a mess on your thighs and his own. he thrusted into you a few more times, enjoying the whimpers that slipped past your lips, the way you begged him to stop, the sound of your voice telling him that it was too much. he pulled out gently, cock dragging against the warm walls of your pussy. a new feeling overcame him as he watched his artificial cum drip out your pussy. you returned to your feet, nearly dropping a whole head as he'd been holding you up at eye length. you truly didn't understand how he was able to do so much. goddamn.

"i have no idea how you're able to hold me up like that," you took a second to control your breathing. he smirked, "my stamina and strength were designed to help catch deviants, though I'd say that I prefer fucking you over the mission." you softly gasped, hitting his arm playfully. "I've never heard you curse before," you giggle, doing a little walk of shame to retrieve your clothing. he mimicked your movements, putting his boxers and pants on first, while you lazily threw on your tank top and panties. you stopped him before he could put on his dress shirt. "I don't usually curse when I'm at work, as it's not professional, but we're not at the police department, are we?" he cocked his head, watching curiously as you put on his grey jacket over his bare upper body. "no, we are not," you smile, stepping back to admire your work. "what is the point of wearing a jacket if I'm not wearing anything underneath?" he questioned, watching as you eyed his body. "it's hot," you comment, dragging a hand down his bare stomach, your fingers tracing over his abs. "i look like i work at the eden club," he replied, not very fond of this look. you giggled, pulling him into you for another kiss.

it might have been the first time in a while that you've felt like you were doing something right. whatever you felt with connor, it felt right. he felt the same as you, he felt like having you in his life was something he wouldn't be able to let go. the two of you stayed like this, not putting a label on things yet, and being content with the things way are. you were happy, and so was connor.

though you couldn't deny the slight feelings of desire that you had for his counterpart. you felt guilty for having thoughts about nines. he was your partner. you felt selfish for wanting them both, and you didn't want to have to make a choice with who you wanted to be with, because that wasn't fair. you weren't saying that nines would even have feelings for you, but the mere thought was just enough to make you consider all the possibilities. what you didn't know, was that connor was well aware of the feelings you might have for nines, as well as him. he noticed the looks you gave, the thrum of your heart if he came too close. he didn't know why, but he didn't mind. he didn't mind seeing you look at nines like that, probably because they had the same face. but also because he wanted nines to enjoy you too. he could tell that nines was having the same thoughts, and if only you knew what was going on in his head. the thought of you being used by both of them was exciting. you don't know what's in store, but you know what you're here for.

────────────────────────────────

AUTHORS NOTE: ur a real one if u get the reference at the end, but I just wanted to say I'm so grateful for all the support that you guys show me ♡ I hope i didnt miss any tags, so pls lmk if i did !! ALSOO i'm so sorry for using y/n. i hate it but i literally don't know what else to put.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Hey, is it alright if I put in a request for a yandere Connor, nines, and 60? Specifically, them falling over the same human? I'm not sure what the reader would do to get a frankly suspicious amount of connors into them. Maybe they can be.. An artist or something, that supports the revolution? (Also, if you could add some non-con in there, i'd die but like in a good way) thanks!

(Dark, manipulation, non con/rape, vaginal fingering, abuse of power, overstimulation, afab!reader)

(Yandere!Connor, Nines, Sixty x reader)

Biological

AU where Connor, Nines, and Sixty all work at the DPD. Connor gets adopted by hank and is now Officially Connor Anderson AND he's captain of the police force

Up until now, you always thought Officer Nines hated you.

You aren't a cop. And you consider yourself unqualified to hold anything above a water gun. Regardless, your work rehabilitating androids requires you to visit the precinct often: gathering evidence for abuse, and testimonials from victims. Anything you can get your hands on to ensure the client your boss takes on will get the help they need.

It'd make sense that you'd get recognized eventually. Officer Chen greeted you with a simple head nod these days. Detective Sixty was a little more crude, preferring you call you petty nicknames with a sarcastic lilt in his voice.

Captain Anderson ("Conner," he'd insisted on so many times, his LED spinning a pleasant blue, "Just Conner is fine") would be more friendly. The RK800 models may look the same but no one ever mistook one for the other. Captain Anderson was kind, the only one of the models to take on a more human name. Whenever you stayed at the precinct a bit longer than you were comfortable with, he often volunteered to walk you to your car.

But Officer Nines just stared. Eyes tracing your footsteps until you were out of his view and even then you would feel it. He had to dislike you, you always thought, there's no way he couldn't.

At least, that's what you assumed until his lips met yours in the darkness of a closet.

"Pay attention." Detective Sixty's harsh voice broke through your head. He was here too. Between all the chaos, your struggle, you'd stopped to notice two sets of hands had grabbed you into the tiny room, shutting the door as soon as you stumbled through.

"Humans can't see when the light is so low," Officer Nines mused. He had moved to your neck now, tasting your skin. A large hand was covering your mouth, most likely because you screamed too loudly for their taste.

"It's instinct to be scared," the way he spat out the word felt so condescending and spitful. As though he were looking down on you. In a way, it made sense. Who were you compared to metal and wires?

In the end, his argument helped you. The lights flickered on, letting you finally see them. Nines was at your front, his synthetic hair brushed against your jaw. Sixty's hands were gripped along your waist, traveling longer and longer.

You didn't want to think what this was.

"Officers?" your voice was a squeak, barely a sound, "Please what's going-"

Nines' teeth scrapping over your neck makes you snap your mouth shut, curling into yourself. He's the opposite of biology, but his tongue feels so animalistic on your skin, leaving a wet trail. You tremble in their hold. Sixty gives a mean laugh.

"Come on, you can't be that stupid, can you?" He huffs in your ear, nibbling on it, making you jolt, "The big guy here has always wanted a taste. You'll be nice enough to give him one, yes?"

Nines gives a noise of disapproval, pulling back to watch you. You've never seen his gaze so soft before. Hands wipe the tears on your face.

"As if you weren't more desperate," Nines hums, affectionately kissing the corner of your mouth when you start shivering, "You'd still be following around like a lovesick puppy."

Sixty huffs at that, muttering something you can't pick apart.

It's not quite a smile, but Nines' eyes look satisfied when he kisses you again, exploring your mouth with the same softness. It makes sense why. They're not human. You can't hurt them, no matter what they do to you.

Sixty proves it by catching both of your wrists, pinning them behind you as he continues to shuck off your pants, revealing your cotton panties.

Nines pulls away when you start begging again, more delirious, more desperate.

"Don't-don't-" you can barely spit them out, the terror sinking into your tone, "I-I don't-"

He hushes you. It's not quite a frown on his porcelain face, but it's enough to depict how unsatisfied he was with your behavior.

"Don't worry," he says, low, almost like he aims to comfort you, "it's simply biological for humans to enjoy sex."

He says it so flippantly, as though it was a fact. The sky is blue. Fire is hot. They were going to fuck you and you were going to like it.

You flinch when he goes to touch you again, a hand trailing down your neck.

"Looks like this one doesn't like you anymore," Sixty sniggers, palming your ass through your panties, "maybe you should step out. Let us have some alone time."

Nines gives a full frown that time. His disapproval bleeds into his actions.

Nines is a lot less gentle on your clothes. The button-up you were wearing is no match for his strength. You yelp when he rips it open, buttons fly and bounce away. You're pushed further into Sixty's hold, something the Detective readily accepts.

Lithe fingers delve underneath your panties, busying themselves with your pussy. You twitch under his hold. Already your body reacts, despite your disgust, your fear, your dignity.

It's simply biological for humans to enjoy sex.

They were wrong. You didn't enjoy this. You didn't fucking want this. You opened your mouth, fully intent on screaming. Were any of the officers still here? Captain Anderson often kept a late schedule, right?

A hand clamped down on your neck, causing your voice to stagger, stop. Despite your fear, common sense kicks in. Nines would have no problem snapping your neck if you provoked him.

A single look from him is all you need to curl in on yourself. Your will to fight leaves as soon as it arrives. You sink back into his hold.

"See?" Sixty croons in your ear, finding your clit, "Doesn't it feel better when you just give in?"

You sob, it's a pathetic whimper, barely getting out of your throat. Despite your clear struggle, your body gives up immediately. You can feel your pussy grow wet as Sixty continues his assault on your clit.

You gasp when he finds your pussy, one finger pushing into your sopping hole as his thumb rubs circles on your clit. There's a hint of pain, and then Nines kisses you again. It feels like a distraction. It feels like a punishment. Somehow, it ends up being both.

By now, his fingers have left your neck. He grasps your bra, pulling the cups down to squeeze your tits. There's a skillful push of Sixty's fingers, and then you're moaning into Nines' mouth.

"Such a pretty body," Nines sighs when he parts when your lips. He glances down, flicking at your nipple, watching as they harden under his attention. "So reactive as well."

You hiss, arching your back as Sixty delves a second finger, positioning them deep inside you.

"Oh, you're close, aren't you?" Sixty sneers. "I can feel it."

You shake your head, but it'd be nothing but a lie. You can feel yourself slowly tipping over the edge.

When you come, it's nothing but devasting. Smashing you on the ground, shattering you. The only reason you don't collapse is because Sixty hadn't stopped moving inside you, yet.

Your pleas change, begs for him to stop because it hurts now. Sixty pays you no mind. He's more focused on the android in front of you, the one who watched your orgasm with haunting blue eyes.

"Well, big guy?" He asks, pulling his fingers out, "You said you wanted a taste, right?"

He doesn't waste a second, dropping to his knees. Every part of Nines is inhuman, his mouth especially. You keen at the temperature when his tongue dives into your folds. So hot, almost burning.

Nines eats you out like a man starved. He's pulled the panties off of you, the scrap of fabric abandoned on the floor. It's wet, messy, but the overwhelming pleasure of it forces you to toss your head back against Sixty's shoulder, whispering out your pleas through stilted moans. He plays the good cop this time, humming praises and coos into your neck, until you're cumming for the second time.

Nines relents when your thighs are shaking, close to giving out entirely. When he lifts himself up, he's wiping his lips away with the back of his hand. He doesn't break eye-contact with you, not as he starts unbuckling his pants because why would you think they'd stop at just ruining you?

The door swings open, catching all three of you off guard. Nines reacts the quickest, covering your mouth before you can scream. You can only stare into the Captain's brown eyes.

He really does look like Sixty when he's frowning. So far, you've only seen him giving soft smiles.

He's out of his uniform. That should have been your first sign.

"Gentlemen," he says, eyeing both Sixty and Nines before his gaze lands on you. His LED spins yellow. You can't even imagine what he's thinking. That his two best officers could do this.

And yet, the evidence is right in front of him.

"Cap'," Sixty responds.

That should have been your second sign. How casual they were about being found out.

"You're late." Nines says and you suddenly have this horrible thought that you weren't about to be saved.

Captain Anderson lets out a laugh, shaking his head.

"You were always much more impatient than you let on," he chides, brown eyes raking over your heaving body, "some of us had work to do. Why do you think no one heard you despite the recuss you all made?"

Nines lowers his hand from your mouth. Sixty leans into your ear. "He means you." He whispers but you can only stare at the Captain, his soft face, unassuming features.

You flinch at the hand caressing your cheek, but Captain Anderson doesn't bother. He traces a finger across your face, gently collecting the tears.

"Have they been nice to you?" Connor asks as though he can't see himself, "I'm sorry I wasn't able to get here before. I'll stop them if they go to far again."

You can feel Sixty's grin slice into your neck. Above you, Nine's is muttering something. You can't focus on any of it. It's all mush, sludge as the Captain's face remains eerily soft.

You must have forgotten. These weren't deviant androids.

They were rotten men.

"Captain-"

"I keep telling you over and over again," he sighs. The door shuts behind him. He smiles.

You think the worst part is his LED: A circling, calm blue.

"Call me Connor."

[v-o-i-d-e-d]

Seeing Blind - DBH Connor x reader

This is not a request but I watched a play through recently and it reignited my love for the android sent by Cyberlife ❤️

Warnings: Some language, mentions of blue blood

Word count: 4423 🤪

The broadcasting tower was buzzing with law enforcement. Much to the chagrin of Hank Anderson, the FBI had been called in to look at the case. Detective (Y/N) (L/N) could not have cared less about the FBI presence. Was she a fan of how they treated her and her colleagues? Absolutely not. However, it’s not like her dislike will change anything and it’s not worth the added tension. Hank, (Y/N), and Connor walked out of the elevator and were greeted by a DPD officer. He gave them the run down: 4 androids hijacked the tower and broadcasted a live message before escaping from the roof. 

(Y/N) eyebrows furrowed as she followed slightly behind her partners. The deviants had organized, She thought. It was becoming more and more clear that these android are no longer just machines. (Y/N) shook her head. That didn’t change what happened. People were killed in this highjacking and, alive or not, what the androids did was a crime. 

The three of them entered the main control room and were introduced to Special Agent Perkins - the head of the case for the FBI. (Y/N) could tell that Hank made an effort to hide his disdain, but not a huge one. Perkins regarded both of them with a condescending glance before moving his gaze over to Connor. 

“What’s that?”

Before either of his human companions could answer, “I’m Connor. I’m the android sent by Cyberlife.” 

“Android investigating androids, huh?” He scoffed, “Are you sure you want an android hanging around? After everything that’s happened?” 

(Y/N) glared, grinding her teeth together to stay silent, while Hank gave a sardonic smile. 

“Whatever. The FBI will be taking over soon and you’ll soon be off the case-”

“Nice meeting you, have a nice day,” Hank cut him off and started walking away when Perkins stopped him, 

“And you watch your step,” Hank and (Y/N) glared at him and he looked directly into (Y/N)’s eyes as he continued, “Don’t fuck up my crime scene.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply, but a hand on her shoulder gave her pause. She glanced over to see Hank shaking his head. It’s not worth the trouble. She huffed and moved away to talk to a group of officers closer to the door. 

Connor watched for a moment as (Y/N) walked away. Her steps were heavier than normal and her right hand clenched and unclenched in time with her stride. 

“Detective (L/N) is upset.” He said. The android continued to watch the detective as she took in information from the officers.  

“Yeah, people tend to get upset when they feel insulted.” Hank quipped as he started looking around the control panel. 

“Detective Reed insults Detective (L/N) often, yet she doesn’t get upset with him.” 

“That’s cause Reed is irrelevant.” 

Connor’s LED circled yellow for a moment as he processed Hank’s answer but before he could ask him to elaborate, he began to walk away. 

“Alright, enough fuckin’ around. Let’s look around the place. Let me know if you find anything.”

“Ok, Lieutenant.”

(Y/N) had been looking around on her own for a few minutes. She had watched the message that the deviants had broadcast and found herself unable to ignore the reality that was fast approaching. Revelations about life aside, she hadn’t been able to find anything useful. Just as she began to walk out into the hallway, there was a loud crash from one of the other rooms. Confusion settled over her features as she jogged over. Suddenly, a figure rushed out of the door as she was going in, knocking straight into her and sending her to the ground with a grunt. It was a deviant! As she hurried to recover from the impact, she happened to see into the room the android ran out of, and what she saw made her stomach wrench. It was Connor, but he was leaking thirium from a hole in his chest and was attempting to haul himself across the floor with one hand. 

“Connor!” (Y/N) shouted as she rushed over to him. His brown eyes flitted over to her as she slid to her knees beside him. “Connor, can you hear me? What happened? What do you need?” She grabbed his shoulders and pushed him onto his back. He let out a groan that made it seem like he was in pain. Androids can’t feel pain. Right?

Connor attempted to speak but the words came out in garbled static. He vaguely pointed a few feet in front of them and (Y/N) 's frantic eyes looked in that direction to see some kind of cylindrical biocomponent. She reached out with a shaking hand and snatched up the piece. When she looked back at Connor, he was blurry. She blinked back the tears she hadn’t realized were building up and took a deep breath. 

“What do I do? Where does this go?” 

This time Connor didn’t try to speak at all. He grabbed (Y/N) 's hand and helped guide the biocomponent into place. She twisted it in and it clicked. Connor blinked rapidly before standing up as quickly as a flash. He was out of the door before (Y/N) could even stand. She quickly followed him out and into the hallway leading to the broadcasting room. She skidded to a stop beside Connor and stared at the scene in front of her. The android had been grabbed by a few officers but had just managed to break free and steal a gun. He shot one of the officers holding him and then swung his aim down the hallway: directly at Detective (L/N). 

||Software Instability ^^||

The moment Connor saw the barrel of that gun aimed at (Y/N) he could feel his software going into overdrive. His LED circled red as several options popped up in his predictive software- 

|Take cover| - Hank’s survival probability: 60% - (Y/N)’s survival probability: 5%

|Attempt negotiation| - Hank’s survival probability: 50% - (Y/N)’s survival probability: 10%

|Take officer’s gun| - Hank’s survival probability: 40% - (Y/N)’s survival probability: 40%

Connor turned and practically ripped the gun off of the officer beside him before quickly landing three shots in the android’s head. As the android fell to its knees everyone turned to look at Connor, including Hank and (Y/N). Connor handed the gun back to its owner without taking his eyes off the lifeless deviant. His face wore a hard, unreadable expression. His LED flickered yellow then back to the steady blue.

“Nice shot, Connor,” Hank said as he helped an officer to his feet. 

“I wanted it alive.” 

“You saved human lives. You saved mine and (Y/N)’s  lives.” 

||Hank ^^||

(Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and took in a deep breath. When she opened them she saw that Connor was already looking at her. He still had his own thirium splattered all over him. Seeing that reminded her that his thirium was also all over her hands which both folded into fists unconsciously. 

“I’m sorry, Connor. I know that probably wasn’t the best outcome for your mission.” 

Connor’s LED flashed yellow. Even after almost being shot, she was being considerate of his mission. 

||Software Instability ^^||

||(Y/N)^^||

Connor remained silent and walked away, leaving Hank and (Y/N) to stare after him.

The next morning, (Y/N) woke in a cold sweat from a nightmare that felt so real its hazy images were still sinking their claws into her mind. Images of Connor’s lifeless body lying in a pool of his own blue blood. The feeling of helplessness as she kneels over him, the hot trail of tears carving through the skin of her cheek. (Y/N) shook her head and shoved the covers off before swiping her hands down her face. A firm knock at her front door caused her to groan and slowly make her way out of her bedroom. 

Connor could faintly hear (Y/N) 's feet shuffle across the floor as she came closer. He briefly cast a look over his shoulder to Hank, who was sitting in the car with his head leaned back and his mouth slightly agape - sleeping. The sound of the deadbolt sliding open pulled his attention back to the door. The door swung open to reveal a very tired-looking (Y/N). Connor noted the sweat that dampened the neck of her shirt and the light bags beneath her eyes. 

“Good morning, Detective,” he greeted. “Lieutenant Anderson thinks it would be beneficial to meet with Elijah Kamski, founder of Cyberlife, to learn more about the deviants.” 

(Y/N) blinked blearily at Connor. Her face was softly scrunched in sleepy confusion and she huffed a sigh. 

“Okay,” She said as she turned and walked back into her house, “Just gimme a minute to get myself together.” 

She hadn’t bothered to close the door, so Connor took that as an invitation to come inside. He walked further into the small house, shutting the door behind him, and took note of decorations and pictures that seemed to give the house life. Pictures of (Y/N) with friends, family, and even one of her and Hank. Hank was not smiling in the photo, in fact, it seemed as though the photo was taken against his will but here it sat: framed on the living room end table. 

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right out,” (Y/N) grumbled as she disappeared around a corner. 

The house smelled faintly of vanilla as well as the perfume (Y/N) often wears. Connor liked that smell. It made him feel nice. 

“Detective?” 

“Hm?” 

Connor picked up a picture of (Y/N) holding a child who looked to be around four or five. “I did not thank you for your help yesterday. In the tower I mean.” When you saved my life, is what he wanted to say but life felt like the wrong word in his mind. There was a long stretch of silence before (Y/N) answered, 

“Anyone would have done the same.”

Liar.

Both of them knew that was not true. There were plenty of people in that room alone that wouldn’t have cared less if Connor had bled out and shut down right in that room as long as they didn’t have to clean up the mess. Just as Connor placed the picture back where he found it, (Y/N) emerged from what he had assumed to be her bedroom. Her eyes widened a fraction when she saw the picture Connor was looking at but didn’t mention it. 

“Come on, don’t want to keep Hank waiting.” She nodded her head toward the front door but made no move to leave. Connor’s LED twitched yellow, then returned to its natural blue. 

“Why did you do it?” He asked. 

“Do what?” She glanced away. She already knew the answer. 

“Save me. If I had shut down I would have just been replaced. It’s happened before.” 

(Y/N) knew it had happened before. She was there when he was shot in the head by that deviant. It rattled her and upon seeing him walk in the next morning completely unscathed she realized that she had been sad that he was gone. 

“It was just instinct. I guess I wasn’t really thinking about the fact that you could just…come back.”

Connor thought about this for a moment. Her statement made it seem like she had forgotten he was just a machine. A piece of equipment that can be replaced. She was saying that at that moment she thought of him as a person.

||Software Instability^^||

“Now, let’s go. I don’t want Hank banging on my door yelling about us wasting his time.” This time she turned around and headed for the door with Connor not far behind. 

The ride out to Kamski’s estate was a quiet one. Hank had grumbled about how long (Y/N) and Connor had taken when they first got in the car, then turned the radio on and fell into silence. (Y/N) stared out of the back window watching a snow-covered Detroit blur past her. Connor sat with his eyes shut in the front seat. He had originally been making a report to Cyberlife but now he was thinking about (Y/N). She was a question he couldn’t quite answer. In his research for the mission he had focused on Hank since, technically, he was his superior officer. However, now he wishes he had looked a little deeper into (Y/N)’s file as well. As he thought about her more, he could feel his internal processors heating up more than normal. He noticed that happening around the female detective more and more. He didn’t understand why. All his systems are running as they should be and his diagnostic program detects no issues yet his body temperature has noticeably increased. His thoughts were interrupted by Hank's car door slamming shut. 

“Hey, are you okay?” (Y/N) asked. Connor opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder at her. 

“Yes. I was making a report to Cyberlife.”

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “No, you weren’t”

Connor tilted his head.

“When you ‘make a report to Cyberlife’,” she used her fingers as air quotes, “your little light blinks yellow. It stopped doing that about ten minutes ago.”

“You are very observant.” Connor didn’t know what to say in response to being caught in a lie. He was feeling uncomfortable. If he didn’t know better he would think he was feeling embarrassed. 

“And you are not a good liar,” (Y/N) chuckled as she exited the vehicle. 

Hank rolled his eyes as he watched the two talk in the car. Something was going on between them that made Hank’s skin crawl. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Connor himself was becoming a deviant and even more obvious that it was all (Y/N)’s fault. Cyberlife had taken everything into account in Connor’s design except for the idea that genuine human connection could reach across wiring. The older man crossed his arms and fought off a shiver. If these two don’t hurry it up, he thought just as (Y/N) stepped out of the car. 

“God damn, it’s fucking cold!” She said as she vigorously rubbed her hands up and down her arms. 

“No shit. Let’s hurry up and get inside.” 

The three of them walked up to the door and Hank rang the doorbell. 

“Why did we want to speak to Kamski, anyway? He had resigned long before deviants had become an issue,” (Y/N) said through chattering teeth. 

“Because he was the first person to make a robot that passed the Turing Test. He created Cyberlife. If anyone knows about what could make an android deviant, it’s him.”

The door opened and a pretty, blonde android greeted them and led them inside. (Y/N) sighed in relief as she was engulfed in warmth. 

“Please take a seat. I’ll let Elijah know you’re here.”

Instead of sitting, Connor elected to look around the foyer. (Y/N) noticed that he stopped for a few moments looking at a photo of Kamski with a woman. Connor muttered something under his breath and confusion crossed his face before he moved on. Hank and (Y/N) sat in the two available chairs and both gazed around the room. 

“This is a nice place. I guess androids haven’t been a bad thing for everybody,” Hank said.

(Y/N) snorted out a laugh, “You would be the one to say that. This place feels…empty. Cold, I guess.” 

“The room is 75 degrees Fahrenheit. How is the room cold?” Connor asked. He was now standing beside (Y/N)’s chair and the familiar smell of her perfume narrowed his focus. Hank scoffed and shook his head and (Y/N) pursed her lips before responding, 

“I don’t mean that it’s literally cold in here I mean that it’s,” she paused and scratched the bridge of her nose, “I don’t know how to explain it to you. I guess it just doesn’t feel like a home.”

Connor nodded slowly as he attempted to understand. He looked around again, this time comparing it to when he entered (Y/N)’s house earlier. It was a very different experience. The harsh, white lighting of Kamski’s foyer did seem extreme when compared to the soft, yellow lamp light of (Y/N)’s living room. 

“Well, you’re about to meet your maker, Connor. How’s it feel?” Hank called his attention back to the present. 

“I don’t know,” the android answered truthfully, “I’ll tell you when I see him.”

“Sometimes I wish I could meet my creator face to face,” Hank rubbed his hands on his thighs and looked off into the distance, “I’d have a couple of things I’d want to tell him.”

Just then, the android woman came back to get them, “Elijah will see you now.” 

The room the three investigators were led to was a pool room. (Y/N) noted - with much distaste - that the tile of the pool was a deep red. The color made it look like Kamski was doing laps in a pool of blood. 

“Mr. Kamski?” She called out. 

“Just a moment, please,” He said. Kamski finished a few more laps in the pool before climbing out. His android brought him a robe and tied it on for him - (Y/N) sneered at that - before he finally walked over to speak to the three investigators. 

“I’m Lieutenant Anderson, this is detective (L/N) and Connor.”

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” 

“Sir, we’re investigating deviants. We are aware of your departure from Cyberlife but we were hoping that you could tell us something we don’t know.” It was (Y/N) that answered his question. Her voice was a little louder than it needed to be and she had tightly clasped her hands behind her back to hide her fidgeting. Kamski’s eyes swept over her with a cold, calculating stare. She fought back the urge to cower. 

“Deviants,” He began, “fascinating, aren’t they? Perfect beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will.” He briefly glanced at the android woman standing obediently beside him before continuing, “Machines are so superior to us; confrontation was inevitable. Humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall.” he scoffs, “isn’t it ironic?” 

“We need to understand how androids become deviants. Do you know anything that could help us?” Connor asked.

Kamski shrugged his shoulders, “All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics.”

(Y/N) turned to Hank and rolled her eyes. Hank held back a scoff.

“Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?” Kamski finished. 

“Look I didn’t come here to talk philosophy. The machines you created may be planning a revolution. Either you can tell us something that’ll be helpful or we can be on our way,” Hank vaguely gestured toward the door as he finished. There was a silent pause in the room before Kamski walked over to Connor. 

“What about you, Connor?” He started, “Whose side are you on?” 

“It’s not about me, Mr. Kamski,” Connor answered after a short pause, “All I want is to solve this case.”

Kamski chuckled, “Well, that’s what you’re programmed to say. But you…” Kamski took a step closer, “What do you really want?” 

Connor felt himself fighting a sudden urge to look for (Y/N)’s eyes. He knew that if he could just meet her gaze, he wouldn’t be feeling so unsteady, so…lost.

||Software Instability^^||

(Y/N) stared at Connor’s profile as he stared down at Kamski. He looked so self-assured just a moment ago, but now he seemed to be a bit thrown off by Kamski’s line of questioning. 

“What I want…is not important.”

Even Hank was surprised by the uncertainty in Connor’s voice. Kamski nodded, then looked over his shoulder, 

“Chloe,” he called for the android woman to join him in front of Connor. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the Turing Test. It’s a bit of a formality - a simple question of algorithms and computing capacity.” Kamski adjusts Chloe so that she faces the three investigators. Her blank expression was on full display. “What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy.”

(Y/N) felt her stomach turn and she clenched her fists. She looked from Hank to Connor to find them eyeing Kamski curiously. Hank, of course, seemed more wary than Connor was. It was likely that he was feeling the same thing (Y/N) felt: dread.

“I call it the Kamski Test. It’s very simple, you’ll see.” Kamski turned to look at Chloe as he continued, “Magnificent, isn’t it? One of the first intelligent models built by Cyberlife.” He caressed the android’s cheek, “Young and beautiful forever. A flower that will never wither.”

(Y/N)’s feeling of dread deepened and she took a subconscious step toward Connor. She didn’t notice that she did, but Connor noticed. 

“But what is it, really?” Kamski continued and moved to grab something out of a drawer from the table behind him, “A piece of plastic imitating a human? Or a living being with a soul.” When he turned back around he had a gun in one hand. Both hands were up showing that he had no intention of using it. He used his empty hand to push Chloe to her knees and then handed the gun to Connor, “It’s up to you to answer that fascinating question.”

“Hey, wait a minute-”

“Destroy this machine and I’ll tell you everything I know,” Kamski interrupted (Y/N)’s protest by walking in between her and Connor. She lightly stumbled to get out of his way and Connor’s eyes briefly strayed to her before returning to the kneeling android. 

“Or, spare it - if you feel it’s alive.” Kamski lifted Connor’s arm to aim the gun at the android’s forehead. “But you’ll leave here without having learned anything from me.”

“Okay, I think we’re done here. Connor, let’s go. Sorry to get you out of your pool-” Hank started to walk but was interrupted by Kamski speaking again. 

“What’s more important to you, Connor? Your investigation, or the life of this android?”

Connor’s LED was flashing yellow as he stared into the eyes of the android. He should shoot it. That would be better for the investigation. He should shoot it…her?”

“Connor, you don’t have to do that. Whatever we need to know we can find out without killing anyone,” (Y/N) said. 

“Decide who you are, Connor. Obedient machine, or a living being endowed with free will.”

“That’s enough! Connor we’re leaving.” Hank just about shouted. 

“Yeah, come on, Connor, let’s go,” (Y/N) pleaded.

“Pull the trigger and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“Connor, don’t!”

‘Connor, please!” 

Connor stared at the android on the other end of the barrel. What was wrong with him? If he had been given this ultimatum three days ago, he would have pulled the trigger with no hesitation, but now? 

||Software Instability^^||

He can’t do it. His LED glared red as he handed Kamski the gun. Connor’s eyes never left Chloe’s.

“Fascinating,” Kamski breathed, “Cyberlife’s last chance to save humanity, is itself a deviant.”

“I’m-” Connor paused, his LED back to flashing yellow, “I’m not a deviant.”

“You preferred to spare a machine than accomplish your mission,” Kamski helped the android to her feet, “You saw a living being in this android. You showed empathy.” He sent Chloe away and stepped closer to Connor again. ‘There’s a war coming. You’ll have to choose your side: will you betray your own people, or will you stand up to your creators? What could be worse than having to choose between two evils?” 

(Y/N) had had enough. She stomped her way over to Connor and grabbed his hand. She tugged on it to get him to walk with her, “We’re leaving. Come on, Connor.” Her voice held gravel as if she was on the verge of crying. 

Connor allowed (Y/N) to lead him past Hank, who followed after them but not before glaring at Kamski. (Y/N)’s grip on Connor's hand was strong and the android would be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel a bit better. Just before the trio made it out of the room, Kamski said one last thing, 

“By the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know.”

It was Connor who now led the way down the front walk of Kamski’s home. His hand was still firmly grasping (Y/N)’s as he practically dragged her toward the car. 

“Connor, slow down!” (Y/N) urged as she almost slipped on the snow. 

“Why didn’t you shoot?” Hank suddenly asked. Connor stopped causing (Y/N) to almost stumble into his back. 

“I just saw that girl’s eyes and I couldn’t. That’s all…” He trails off. 

“You were always saying you would do anything to accomplish your mission. That was our chance to learn something and you let it go,” Hank said. His tone was quiet without an iota of accusation. Connor turned around, finally dropping (Y/N)’s hand to gesture with his own. 

“Yeah, I know what I should’ve done! I told you: I couldn’t!” His shoulders were tense. They did not rise and fall like he was breathing heavily, of course, but (Y/N) and Hank knew that if they could, they would. Connor was clearly experiencing panic. He was confused and probably scared. “I’m sorry. Okay?”

Hank’s lips twitched up into a rare smile, “Well, maybe you did the right thing.”

||Hank^^||

Connor’s LED blinked yellow as Hank walked past him toward the car. He stared at the place he once stood until (Y/N) moved into view. She was smiling at him. One of those proud smiles she usually had after getting Hank to come into work on time. 

“That was a big choice back there. Are you okay?” 

Her question was an echo from earlier. Connor’s mouth opened to reply but no words came out. Am I malfunctioning? He thought to himself. (Y/N)’s smile only widened when she noticed a faint tinge of blue on the android’s cheeks. 

“Come on. Let’s get out of the cold.” She walked past him and brushed her hand down his arm. Connor found himself reaching out for her hand, just barely missing it as she walked toward the car. 

||(Y/N)^^||

[where-dreamers-go]

“Subtle” DBH Connor x Human!Reader

(A/N: The Reader is an investigative assistant for the Detroit Police Department. Takes place after the peaceful android revolution. Warnings: Canon violence and strong language. Involves an android homicide investigation and sensitive terms regarding the incident. Mentions of thirium blood and weapons like a gun. Use of (Y/N), (Y/F/N) and (Y/L/N) for your names. Word Count: 1,771 words)

Late into the evening, darkness finished enveloping the city between every alley and road. People headed home, ordered takeout, or clocked in to their shift.

Being among a group of individuals called out to a house outside of downtown Detroit, you could be counted as working late. Then again, it could be any time when working for the Detroit Police Department.

Standing in a living room of the residence, you jotted down notes into your work tablet.

You were already at the scene along with other DPD personal. Each person with their own task in the small home. Yet, a team effort.

It had been an android homicide. Suspect was yet to be found and identity remained unknown.

You could do with some more assistance.

As if on cue, in walked Lieutenant Hank Anderson and Detective Connor Anderson through the front door.

Ah, my favorite people, you thought in genuine relief. Now we can really get somewhere.

“Hey, (Y/N), they called you out for a homicide?” Hank asked, taking a few glances around the living room. Furniture knocked over or splintered.

“Yeah. Hey, Hank. Hey, Connor.” You gave a small smile before gesturing with your tablet to the shut down android on the coffee table. “The house is trashed in the hall bathroom too. …Poor guy.”

“Signs of a struggle, but not at the front door,” said a tall officer. “The android—Dennis—called in about the attack. By the time a team came in, it was too late. Blue blood’s still visible.”

“Did the android…Dennis, provide the name of their attacker?” Connor asked as he knelt down beside the android’s body. His LED spinning yellow.

“Only a possible first name. Chris.” The officer answered.

“So….no forced entry. They could had known each other before today. But why murder?” Hank questioned out loud.

Standing, Connor took three steps away from the body.

“You mentioned the hall bathroom, Officer (Y/L/N)?” Connor asked, always professional on duty.

“Yeah, the mirror was smashed.” You motioned for him to follow you.

“Any ideas on the murder weapon?” Hank’s voice carried out into the hallway.

“There’s a broken chair, Lieutenant.” Another officer answered.

Leading Connor to the open bathroom, you paused at the doorway.

“There’s thirium blood on the walls.” Connor said as he passed into the bathroom.

“There’s some in the bedroom, but no other disturbances.” You stated. “It’ll probably absorb into the carpet.”

Why blue blood is in there, I don’t really want to know, but…

For about a minute or so, Connor scanned details in the bathroom before re-entering the hall.

“None of the neighbors reported seeing anyone fleeing the house nor suspicious activity within three blocks.” You skimmed over your notes. “But that doesn’t mean anyone was staring at the house at the time of the attack to be certain.”

“Right. Does the attacker’s name match anyone living nearby?”

“No.”

Connor frowned, “The attacker wouldn’t have had time to leave through the front door without being spotted. There weren’t any shoe prints leaving in the front either.”

You rose your eyebrows.

“Back door?” He walked back through the hall and headed towards the small kitchen.

Being mindful of your footing, you followed a light trail of smudged blue blood into the bedroom. It became difficult to spot the blue blood as it was drying into the carpet.

There’s still no sign of a weapon, you thought. The attacker must still have it. They beat the poor android until they shut down. Someone not okay with androids’ equality? You crouched down. And the windows are all shut.

“The back door is locked.” Connor’s voice traveled through the home.

“You’re not telling me the bastard who did this is still in here.” Hank said.

“The android is missing their thirium pump and anything that might have caused severe damage to his head isn’t here.”

“Shit.”

clink

Your gaze snapped to the bed.

Slowly, you stood up. Your heart rate increasing by the millisecond. You swallowed dryly.

“Is there an attic?” Hank asked.

As quietly as you could, you backed up into the hall. Turning your head, you tried gaining someone’s attention discreetly. Anyone. After two head motions, Hank saw you.

“What’s with you?”

You rose your eyebrows and nodded your head to the bedroom.

In there.

In less than two seconds Hank had grabbed his gun. Hank, then looking into the living room, said, “Call a team in here. Everybody else out.” He trained his sights forward. “Stay behind me.”

“Got it,” Connor followed close behind.

“(Y/F/N).” The lieutenant gestured for you to go to them.

With side steps, you steadily made your way to the detectives. Once you passed Hank, Connor pulled you behind him and allowed you to move through the hallway.

“Detroit Police—.”

Someone rushed out of the room, an arm hitting Hank.

“Argh—Dammit!”

Connor launched to the side, basically a blur of movement as he struggled with the suspect.

A biocomponent dropped to the floor.

Clicking to realization, you went to run, but the suspect and Connor twisted into your path. Fists being thrown and something that might had been a wrench being swung.

A hand yanked you back.

Hank then stood in front of you and gave a direction, “Bedroom.”

“Yup.” You ran into the safety of the bedroom where the suspect had been hiding.

One of the last things you wanted was to be in the way of catching a suspect. Especially a violent one.

“Fricken android! An android!”

“‘Ey, quiet.”

“Android! Androi—Fu—!”

“Hey.” Hank shouted. “That’s enough. You got ‘em?”

“I got him. Come on. On your feet.” Someone answered.

Not hearing any new scuffle, you peeked out from the doorway. Careful not to step in any blue blood of course.

That was pretty quick.

“Son of a bitch. Are you alright, Connor?” Hank walked up to his partner.

“I’m fine.”

“Guess we know what he used to beat the android.”

“Yes. A pipe wrench.” Connor’s gaze caught your own. “Officer (Y/L/N), the suspect has been detained.”

“You’re both okay?” You asked, stepping into the hall with your tablet in hand.

“Yeah.” Hank sighed. The biocomponent on the floor grabbed his attention. “They really hate androids.”

“Their loss,” you made your way to the men.

Hank smirked.

Say nothing, Hank.

“I should had checked the bedroom when you mentioned it.” Connor told you. “I’m sorry.”

“He was hiding under the bed. He could have hit you if you checked. You don’t need to apologize.”

“Or we would’ve had to drag his ass out from under the damn bed.” Hank huffed.

“Fun,” you said sarcastically.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s finish up here before we have to do the damn paperwork,” Hank waved you off. “You need a ride?”

“If you’re offering and don’t mind. Yeah.”

Connor smiled.

. . .

Night covered the city even as lights brightened whole buildings.

Back at the precinct, you sat on Connor’s desk. A little break after you sent him your section of the reports.

Twirling a pen between your fingers, you watched his LED switch between yellow and blue.

It’s cute when he’s obviously thinking intently, you thought. And that cute stinkin’ curl of hair trying to be out of place again. One day. One day I’ll—

“All finished.” Connor announced.

You perked up and out of the beginnings of a fantasy.

He tilted his head up to ask you, “Is there anything else you needed to do?”

“Uh, nope. Just sitting here giving you emotional support. Silently.”

“Thank you.” The corner of his lips curved up. “There’s no one else who can sit on my desk and give emotional support as you can.”

Before you could unpack that sentence, your thoughts were interrupted by the ever outspoken lieutenant.

“If you’re done,” Hank spoke up from behind his computer screen, “you two can go on and head out.”

“You’re sure?” Connor asked.

“Yeah. Sumo probably needs to go.”

“Right.”

You hopped down from the desk and gathered your belongings.

“And, Connor, don’t give Sumo any treats. It’s late.”

“I won’t.” Connor walked out from behind his desk.

“Later, Hank,” you waved. “I’ll give Sumo extra scratches.”

The older man huffed a laugh.

“See you later, Hank.” Connor said and went to catch up with you.

“Sure thing, son.”

. . .

Taking an automated taxi to Hank’s house opened up room for casual talk and saving your energy for Sumo’s walk to do his business. It wasn’t the first time you and Connor had joined forced for the activity. A little break to wind down from work.

Prior to leaving the Lieutenant’s house, you had left a note on a bottle of beer just in case Hank got home before the end of the walk.

“I don’t think the drawing of a paw-print was necessary, but it was…cute.” Connor said as the pair of you walked side by side, a dog leash in his grasp.

“Some cuteness is necessary, Connor. Right, Sumo?”

Sumo gave a slow, but very deep bark. 

“Exactly. See? He gets it.”

Connor frowned slightly. “I’m not sure what to say to that.”

“That’s fine.” You linked your arm with his and added, “Neither do I.” Spotting his smile, a familiar fluttering feeling filled your insides.

Completely normal friendship activities. You thought in an attempt to ease yourself from revealing any of your more-than-friendship feelings you had for Connor.

One had to subtle about those things. Some times.

“The odds of both of us having no reply is extremely low.”

“How could we?” You teasingly scoffed. “Nothing to say…”

I could say that he’s the one that’s cute. More cute than the note, you thought as you elected not to say what was on your mind. Again. A difficulty when Connor chuckled quietly beside you.

Ahead of both of you, Sumo sniffed a neighbor’s lawn contently and curiously. Ever the favorite dog who you two adored and kept far away from whatever hid in the grass at night. Sumo had bravery, but neither of you were taking chances with the big, sweet walking fur-ball.

Bravery, something everyone had some sort of experience with in their lives. In your line of work, the possibility of showing courage was greater. Not a necessity, but it could be accomplished in many ways.

Maybe, maybe one day I’ll have some courage or risk letting Connor know how I feel about him. Somehow, I guess. You thought as the three of you continued walking in the night.

At least Sumo was having a grand time regardless of the internal emotional rollercoasters of others.

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Detroit Become Human Tags: @shewhobreathesfire @

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

[ersatz-ostrich]

Baby Fever pt. 1: Prologue

Connor x f!Detective!reader (sorta?)

Connor finds himself caring for a baby while at the DPD. Baby fever quickly begins to spread.

[A/N]: (nervous laughing) so like this was written by a person who has never taken care of an infant for a prolonged period of time— Any parents and experienced baby-rearers out there, please forgive me for any inaccuracies. I could only do so much without making my Google Search history look highly suspect, or at least more so than it already is.

Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence and drug (Red Ice) use (happens before the actual story takes place)

pt. 2 >>

read here on ao3

It was a bitterly cold day in Detroit. Muddy slush from the snowstorm earlier that week was collecting on the sidewalks. Pedestrians slogged on through, their boots and sneakers creating divots and valleys in the already grimy snow. A woman pushed her three-hundred-dollar stroller through the snow, her burbling child jostled gently with each bump. 

Not more than a few meters away, a different woman hurried along with a bundle close to her chest. She rounded the corner and through a set of sliding doors into the bustling lobby of Detroit PD’s Central Station. 

“Hello, miss. How can I help you?” The android receptionist at the front desk greeted the woman cordially. 

“My baby and I are in danger,” the woman began. Her voice was taut with worry. “Her father is addicted to Red Ice…he’s after us.”

“Right this way,” The receptionist showed her to the gates to the inner complex of the precinct, her expression worried. The woman, clutching her child, followed the android to a bench in a quiet area near the bullpen. “Wait here, please. Someone will help you soon.” With that, the ST-300 disappeared behind the DPD’s double doors, returning to her post at the front desk. 

The woman gazed at her baby’s wet eyes and smooth, unsullied skin. She knew she hadn’t been the best mother, but she’d done what she could given the circumstances. For most of the short time they’d spent together with that excuse of a man she had for a husband, they’d barely had enough money and food stamps to stay afloat. She’d skipped meals to be able to afford formula. 

When she first got pregnant, everything seemed fine. Both she and her husband were working; they could cover rent, food, and bills. But then, during her second trimester, things got rough. Her husband lost his job and started leaving the house for hours on end under the guise of ‘job searching’. She soon noticed the changes in his mood; the time he spent away from the house got longer; it wasn’t much longer until she, in her third trimester of pregnancy and nearing her delivery date, realized that her husband had quickly stopped searching for a job and started dealing—and doing—Red Ice. 

When she finally delivered her baby daughter, alone in the wee hours of the morning, she wept. Not tears of joy, but tears of regret, grieving for the life her daughter had been born into. She would have to quit her job to take care of her; in the meantime, she would have to find a way to escape from that terrible man. 

Now, here she was, cradling her child on a bench in Detroit’s center-city precinct.

“Hey there,” Someone whispered softly. “I’m Detective Y/N L/N. I’m here to help you.” The woman raised her gaze to see you stooping slightly to smile at her and her child. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” She replied. 

“Okay. I was told you and your child were being threatened,” The woman nodded.

“My husband. He was high on Red Ice…he found out I was saving up some of the money he made from dealing to escape.” She offered her thumb for the baby in her arms to grasp. “I need to find someplace safe for me and my daughter.” 

“I understand,” You responded. “We’ll use any resource we have to help you get somewhere safe.” You glanced at the child—a cherubic little thing with pale blue eyes and wispy blonde hair. “However, I would like to hear about your husband’s situation as well. I’m a part of Detroit PD’s Red Ice Division, and…” The woman’s eyes widened slightly. “...I’d like it if you told me as much as you can about your husband’s Red Ice dealings, for your own safety and our ongoing investigations into Detroit’s Red Ice networks.”

The woman nodded shakily. 

“Of course,” She answered. “I’ll tell you everything I know. Anything to stop that man from harming my family, or anyone else’s.”

“Detective?” You glanced over your shoulder to see Connor approaching you from the bullpen. 

“Connor,” You greeted the android detective. “Can I help you?” When Connor’s eyes fell upon the woman and child sitting before you, he raised his eyebrows. 

“I apologize, I didn’t know you were preoccupied. I came to tell you about the interview notes for the Lance case.” Connor turned to leave.

“About that,” You caught his shoulder, prompting him to turn back around. “This woman and her child are on the run from a family member. Red ice dealer and addict.” You informed in a low voice, so the woman wouldn’t hear.

“Ah.”

“This is Connor,” You presented the android to the pair. “He’s an android investigator. Normally, he works with the Android Crimes Division, but he’s helping me with a case right now.” You locked eyes with Connor again. “So, we have two things to accomplish. First, find a safe place for her and the baby. Second, investigate the husband.”

“I’ll do my best to help you catch that man,” The woman reiterated. “Still, I want to stay with my daughter, but I have nowhere to go. I’ll relinquish her if that means keeping her safe.”

Connor crouched down and smiled at the baby in the woman’s arms. The baby let go of her mother’s thumb to reach out to Connor, making grabby hands at his LED, which had turned a swirling yellow.

Inside his HUD, Connor saw a text box appear. 

“Michigan’s Safe Delivery of Newborns law stipulates that a baby may be confidentially relinquished by biological parent(s) to emergency service providers within 72 hours of delivery.”

He also saw a pop-up with the baby’s birth date and birth certificate, provided to him from the state’s vital records by way of the DPD. From that information, he determined the baby to be around six months old.

“She’s too old to be relinquished. Newborns must be relinquished within 72 hours of delivery, per state laws.” Connor stated. “I will conduct a search for homes and shelters suitable for mothers and their children.” 

“We’ll get you back on your feet, I promise.” You added reassuringly. “Would you mind giving us a statement?” 

“Absolutely.” The woman stood. ��What do I need to do?”

Let me know if you want to be part of my general, Connor, or Detroit taglists!

[thefaefiction]

Distraction. [Connor x Reader] [DBH]

PAIRING: Connor x Reader GENRE: Smut WARNINGS: This is an 18+ piece of writing with mature and sexual themes. Read at your own discretion. Includes: Penetrative sex, praise, work relationship, power dynamics SUMMARY: After meeting the respectable Connor you've known at the station for months after hours, his advances on you shock you enough to want to find out more.

A/N: connor is a deviant who still works for the dpd! ** finally finished this btw it's no longer a wip <33

You and Connor had just gotten back from an unusual case involving an Android robbery at an auction house in downtown Detroit. You had successfully prevented the android from executing the order's of one man's dirty work; and to top it all off, you looked great doing it. You'd been dressed in a loose black dress that glimmered under the dim light of the auctioning room, a pair of sheer tights that hugged your legs beneath the short and strappy heels which pained your feet more than any other shoe you'd ever worn, and a sheer shawl that sat over your shoulders, providing absolutely zero warmth in the cold weather that bit outside.

As you closed the door to the rental car, you let out a sigh of relief and a light laugh. "I didn't expect to have to solve crime in heels today," You jest, quickly removing the heels that had, quite frankly, become more of a problem than the enemy at large.

Connor grins. "You and I made quite the team back there, lieutenant," He pauses and adjusts his tie. "Even if your shoes put a damper on our probability of success."

You laugh. "It's so frustrating that they gave you a suit, something you can be fully mobile in, and I get..." You sigh, your hands gesturing frustratingly to your outfit, "This."

"Well," Connor begins, "I must say it succeeded in distracting the thief. He looked rather... preoccupied when it came to your questioning." He turns, looking at your outfit. "I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a bit difficult to stay on task myself."

His words came as a shock to you, heat rising to your cheeks and your head feeling slightly dizzy. All night, while your mind should have been running with how to handle your case, you'd been preoccupied with how damn dazzling Connor looked in a black suit. Everything about him made you crazy, and it was frustrating, especially when his assertive questioning voice is causing some unwanted feelings in some inconvenient areas of your body.

"Lieutenant?" His voice interrupts your thoughts, shaking your head and stopping your staring. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," You laugh. "Just thinking. Sorry."

Connor nods, furrowing his eyebrows. "About what?"

You could feel your face begin paling at the thought of telling him, truthfully, what was on your mind. You didn't dare. "Just the case," You said, far too quickly. "Just, like, the numbers. And stuff." That made no sense. You were completely blowing it, and not in the way you'd like. "Ready to get going?"

"Lieutenant, I can't help but notice your body temperature becoming abnormally high." His voice was silky, coated in an emotion that you hadn't yet seen him express. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Your head begins pounding, butterflies clouding your chest and your skin tingling. "No," You spit out. "No, I'm alright. Thank you though." You cough, looking away from him.

"Lieutenant... I'm afraid you've forgotten that I can read you like an open book," He turns his body towards you in his seat, leaning slightly over the center console. You feel him staring. "Are you certain that there's not a way I'm able to assist you?"

You turn and face him, his face much closer than you anticipated it being. His LED lit yellow, trying to decipher your next move, but it had completely taken him aback when your mouth collided with his hungrily. He pulled away and whispered, staring longingly at your lips, “Perhaps we should take this to the back?”

Without a word you crawled to the back seats, Connor sitting with his legs spread and his tie loose around his neck. He gripped your hips, pulling you on top of him, and you started tearing away at your dress. You lifted it over your head and threw it into the passenger seat, Connor smirking as he rapidly removed his blazer from his body.

You pried your tights off of your legs, ripping them in the process but not paying enough attention to care, and Connor unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it along with his tie to the front. He was gorgeous, of course. Why wouldn't he be? He was sculpted by people to be the perfect man in every way, it makes perfect sense that he would be sculpted and defined in a way that made Zeus envy him.

"You're so gorgeous," Connor mumbled, eyeing your bra and scanning your body. "That poor thief. If I saw a woman like you I'd have trouble with my words too." He put his hands on your hips, molding the fat to his hands. "This is the most human desire I've ever felt."

"Fuck, Connor," You groaned. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting this." Your hips had instinctively began grinding down on him, like they had a mind and a plan of their own. It shocked you when Connor let out a gasp, rolling his head back. You grinned.

Connor shifted to his belt, rapidly sliding it out of his pants and unbuttoning them. You could feel him twitch beneath you, desire growing stronger and stronger with every little movement each of you made. With eagerness and ferocity, he brought his hands to your back and unclasped your bra, tearing it off of your body and tossing it to the side. The cool air hit your breasts and you shivered, determined to get more intimate and feel his body heat against you.

And then, without breaking eye contact, he pulled out his cock and prepared with a few long strokes.

He was big. Much bigger than you've ever taken before.

Of course he was.

You pulled yourself forward and pushed your underwear aside. Connor grabbed your hips and slowly eased you down on to him; he groaned loudly, letting his head roll back and hit the seat. "Fuck," He cursed. "Taking me so well," He praised.

Shivers ran down your spine with his words, whimpering as you let him bottom out and take his length fully. The pressure of his cock inside you was unlike anything you'd ever felt before -- and god did it feel amazing. "Connor," You moaned, falling forward into him and resting your forehead against his. "Oh my god Connor," Your breath mixed with his and your body tingled. In your peripheral, you could see the windows of the car begin to fog up.

Connor's hands gripped your hips, hard, and began helping you move back and forth on him. Your hips rolled on his lap, pleasure heavy in the air, harsh breaths being released with every roll.

"Feel so good, Y/n," Connor commented, his hips beginning to buck up every time you moved forward. He moved forward and kissed your neck, sucking and biting and definitely leaving a bruise. He kissed all the way down until he reached your breasts, you felt him smile on your skin.

"Please Connor," You begged. The entire scene was the hottest image you'd ever seen -- something that made porn feel miniscule. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing his head forward while you continued to push and pull with your hips -- He began licking and sucking on your nipples, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. "Gonna come Con," You mumbled, "Need to come,"

He pulled away and stared into your eyes with intent. "Go ahead, doll," He moaned. "Doing so well for me, gonna come right inside of you,"

That was one of the benefits of fucking an android. No real sperm.

"Shit!" You yelled, lolling your head back and speeding up your pace. "Holy fuck!" And there it was -- Connor bucked his hips up and you came together, much harder than you'd ever come before.

You stayed on him, rolling your hips out of your orgasm, and Connor looked at your face, the sweat beads falling from your forehead and your trembling legs. He brought his hand to your face, wiping it clean and pushing the fallen hair from your face. "You did so well Y/n," He praised. You smiled.

"Jesus Connor," You said, breathless, laughing at the scene. "You're about to be the death of me."

Connor hummed. "I won't let that happen, Lieutenant." He brought your lips together, kissing you with passion, "And I don't fail my missions."

ⓒ THEFAEFICTION, 2023. DO NOT TRANSLATE, REPUBLISH, OR CROSS-POST WITHOUT EXPLICIT CONSENT.

[chin-chilla-7]

I just got finished with a spy x family episode and this came up! What about DBH boys (Connor, Simon, Markus) With a female reader who is just like Yor Forger!

She’s very sweet looking, and nobody would suspect she packs quite a mean punch when protecting someone or herself, and unusually strong!

Hey anon! So sorry about the wait on this. I'll be honest part of it is due to me not knowing anything about spy x family, so I will just be going off the little description you've given in this ask! And it certainly won't stop me from trying.

Each Connor, Simon, and Markus would initially find the reader quite unassuming. To say they underestimate her is not exactly accurate, but they certainly don't expect the strength and punch she packs.

Connor witnessed it during a case. He's in the process of analyzing some evidence at a crime scene when he hears a disturbance. It was an argument, from what he could tell, between you and someone else trying to tamper with the crime scene or simply initiating some aggression because, like Connor, they misjudge exactly how strong you could be. At the sound of raised voices - yours being one of them - Connor is quick to make his way over to the disturbance, intending to intervene if necessary. Though, it quickly becomes apparent that it isn't necessary.

You've knocked the aggressor clean on their ass. One punch to the face was enough to send them falling backwards right on their ass. You probably even broke their nose. Connor, he's... well, to be honest, he's a little surprised. You aren't often in situations such as this one. And while you do work for the DPD, it's not often he sees you demonstrate exactly why you were hired in the first place.

Even though you punched someone to the point of a concussion, Connor can't help but still make sure you're okay. Physically, mentally, whatever, he wants to make sure the encounter didn't shake you up too bad. Even if you've assured you're fine and that he doesn't need to check you over, he's still doing a scan, just to be sure.

This is something he certainly does not forget about you. And while he still worries, given the fact that your appearance is deceiving compared to your actual ability, he's a little more at ease to know that you can hold your own when you need to. He's aware that people will go for those who seem weaker, and while he knows you aren't weak, at a glance, people are quick to think otherwise about you.

---

Simon, while not a coward, does prefer to take the pacifist route at any given opportunity. You're someone who's the same, unless you have absolutely no choice. And that was the case here. You were with Simon, just the two of you. You had excused yourself to the bathroom, and on your way back, you see that someone had approached Simon, and you noticed that Simon was less than comfortable about the interaction. It wasn't until you were a few steps away that you could hear exactly what was going on.

It was some anti-android guy going off - he must have recognized Simon someone. Which, come on, he's not the only PL600 to exist. Whatever, it didn't matter. What mattered was this guy was going off on Simon, and while Simon was trying to defuse the situation, he wasn't getting anywhere successful. Simon was trying to talk the other down, but the guy seemed pissed, which started to piss you off. It didn't help that the guy suddenly grabbed Simon - that's when you knew you had to step in.

"Hey!" Was all you said, which seemed to startle the guy long enough for you to grab his shoulder, turning him so you could swiftly punch him in the gut. He quickly doubled over, falingl to the ground, and Simon stumbled back, staring at the scene in shock. His mouth was agape as he looked between you and the guy, now groaning on the ground. There was even a slight tint of blue on Simon's face at the sight, which you may have noticed if you weren't still upset with the interaction.

"Whoa... I didn't know you had that in you..." Simon said, nearly stepping towards the guy to help him. But he stopped himself, mainly because you held your hand out to stop him.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," you responded, looking over to him and managing a smile. Despite the circumstances, it was cute to see the way Simon reacted to this.

"What, so we just... leave him?"

"Well, he was a prick, soo..."

---

Markus was often used to being the protector. And with you, it was a no brainer that you were someone he felt drawn to protect. And it was cute, and you never had a problem with it. But sometimes even the protector needs a little helping hand. Especially when you've got no problem fighting your own battles.

Being the leader of the android revolution meant that Markus got a lot of attention. And being a close friend of the leader of the android revolution meant you got a lot of attention as well. Both good and bad. This was an instance of the bad. Some name calling, some yelling, asking how you could ever support something like this when all the androids do is take and take and blah blah blah.

Really, you weren't listening. You had grown used to it at this point, it was something you could easily tune out.

Though, it was clear that the people nagging you were not a fan of being ignored. Markus was only a little ways ahead of you, but it was still enough of a distance that he couldn't stop the way they grabbed you to look at them. A small struggle ensued, which caught Markus' attention. He was quick to rush over to you, pulling off one of the two attacking you, but it seemed you had the rest of it under control.

A quick knee between the legs was enough to throw them off their balance, then an elbow to the chest knocked the wind out of them long enough for you to get away. As you escaped their grasp, you kept yourself ready, knees bent, arms up, ready for anything more they had to throw your way. Of course, the kerfuffle was enough to get the attention from onlookers, and the attackers found it best to avoid further humiliation.

With them submitting to defeat, Markus looked to you, first making sure you were okay. Once that was settled, he found himself looking at you with an impressed smile. "Maybe you should be the one protecting me," he joked.

"Maybe," You said, relaxing now that you weren't in danger anymore. "At least I'd know you'd be safer."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

[roxasagainst]

oops! all DBH one-shots!

your one-stop shop for all my DBH one-shots (that have too much plot and not enough porn, oh well)

(banner and dividers by @cafekitsune!)

still feel. (RK900/fem!reader)

cw: fingering, alcohol, small ment of violence, kissing, semi-public sex, bodily fluids, rough sex, choking if you squint

You've worked with RK800 for six months now, and three months in, a RK900 walks in. What do you do? Well, let's try a conversation mixed with a subtle invitation. It's almost 3 am, and you're in over your head.

ashes to ashes, dust to...oh fuck (RK800-60/fem!reader)

cw: flirting, banter, just him being a bitch, oral sex (f receiving), office setting

Working as a secretary for the DPD, it's usually pretty easy to have someone else shut the place down so you can leave early. One person, however, isn't leaving without a fight.

one of the girls (RK800-60/fem!reader)

cw: rough sex, office setting, face-fucking, dirty talk, spanking if you squint

You've been in the sugar bowl for a while, been in all sorts of arrangements but an android sugar daddy? You just have to see what this is about.

blackout (RK900/fem!reader) *new!*

cw: lingerie, alcohol mention, fingering, choking, rough sex, interrogation room sex, dirty talk, praise kink

What'd you do to end up in police custody after getting drunk at home? Hey, maybe that guy who walked into the room knows!

[paleepeaches]

I’M SENSITIVE YOU KNOW (PREVIEW)

Warnings: MDI, mature content, 18+, filthy disgusting smut,

Tags: Connor RK800 x Fem Reader

A/N: THIS IS A PREVIEW 🎀

TELL ME IF YOU LIKE IT PLS I CRAVE VALIDATION AND PRAISE

You were a festive person. Always have and always will be. Valentines was your favorite holiday not only because of the pink and red strewn across supermarkets and stores but because it was a day of love. A reason to celebrate you and Connor’s union. You were sentimental. Sensitive and a bit of a sappy girl when it came to things like that. Connor was fully aware of it. In fact he made note of it when you first got together. How you pouted up at him. Your bottom lip jutting out slightly covered in your lipgloss. How when things didn’t go your way your pretty doe eyes would water with tears and coat your spiky lashes. It was an adorable sight to see you so whiney and needy all the time. Especially when it came to him. You’d pout everytime he had to leave to the DPD every morning. Today was no different.

“Do you have to go?” You fluttered you lashes up at him. 

Connor turned his head to look at you while he did his tie. His hands skilfully mastering it. He felt his resolve waver seeing you so like that. You’d just gotten up. Hair was a bit messy, eyes a bit tired but what you wore really got him. It was the babydoll nightdress. Baby pink in color and the cups on it hugged your tits so nicely. It was sheer and cut off at the top of your plush thighs. He had to resist throwing you on the bed and just fucking your brains out. Poor baby girl didn’t know what you were doing to him.

“I have to. Hank needs me for another case. Plus who’s gonna make enough money to take care of you?” He cooed down at you with his signature smirk. 

He huffed out a sigh nodding in understanding. “Okay but are you gonna be home in time to celebrate? I planned a dinner and everything.”

Full fic