sherlockbelstaff

[sherlockbelstaff]

DBH fanfic

It’s been a while since I logged into this account but I’m genuinely curious if people still read Detroit Become Human fanfics/ x readers!

[sherlockbelstaff]

Fandoms

If you are interested in knowing the fandoms I know about and will write for, here they are. May be updated any time. -Detroit Become Human -Marvel -Lucifer -Hannibal (I haven’t watched the full series though) -Teen Wolf -Stranger Things (Pending season 3) -Dear Evan Hansen -Supernatural -Star Trek AOS -Pending...

I don’t only write x Readers, you may request ship fics as well.

[sherlockbelstaff]

Late Night|Detroit: Become Human|Connor x Reader (Female)

A/N: Thank you for requesting! Enjoy. P.S. This hit right in my insomnia. Completed at 4:14 AM so I apologize for any errors.

Warnings: Fluff?

Connor x Reader (Female)

Summary: How to tackle a situation like that? Connor had spent every second he could figuring out a way to aid you into sleeping. Even consulted with Hank, whom he knew also suffered from insomnia.

‘Once it has you on its grip, it’s hard to figure out a way out of it. Human bodies are weird, kid.’

Perhaps they were looking at it the wrong way. Maybe-

“I have an idea I would like to explore, (Y/N).”

***

It wasn’t as though he was the indicated individual to deal with such a very human aspect like insomnia. As it were, sleep was a different experience for him, and yet the android still aimed to help in any way he could.

Some would differ on his definition of ‘help’ upon finding him sitting next to you on your bed while you typed away at the never ending files that had to be revised and edited. It was much better knowing that at least you were relatively okay, he thought. 

But every glance he stole at the clock on your bedside table, seeing as the evening became night, and without a sign of you pausing to rest was at one point unnerving.

Strike 1 AM, and Connor was debating in between saying something and staying silent, eyes wide open, staring intently. Waiting for something, anything that would give him the opportunity to act upon.

And oh, if he didn’t jump up at the sight of coffee, the cup already at the edge of your lips, about to give you unnecessary energy. He wrapped his hand around it and retrieved it to himself, eyes softening into a pleased smile.

“(Y/N), I’m afraid you are not allowed to touch coffee.” He assessed, placing the object in question right besides him, out of your reach.

He had mostly expected a fight for it, but you simply slumped a bit further in front of the computer. “I already told you Connor, it’s no use. Either way I will stay awake.” You glanced from the corner of your eyes, fingers moving over the keys in good multi tasking.

This had the android thinking.

How to tackle a situation like that? Connor had spent every second he could figuring out a way to aid you into sleeping. Even consulted with Hank, whom he knew also suffered from insomnia.

Once it has you on its grip, it’s hard to figure out a way out of it. Human bodies are weird, kid.

Perhaps they were looking at it the wrong way. Maybe-

“I have an idea I would like to explore, (Y/N).” He perked up, smiling softly at the raise of your eyebrows despite keeping your eyes glued to the screen.

Your typing stopped for a moment.

“I’m listening.”

The android’s chest expanded despite the lacking need to breath. That was one of the things that freaked out Hank sometimes, looking at him with an odd look on his face. End up muttering something about Cyberlife and their fucking witchcraft.

“Well-”

***

“You know, I expected sleeping pills or tea, but not this.” You mumbled from under the blanket tucked over your face, pulling it downwards to breathe into the fresh air of the room.

As it were, the RK800 decided that the best choice was to have you wrapped in his hold, sitting in between his legs with your back againt his chest, arms locked around your middle.

“You clearly needed rest, (Y/N).” He pointed out solidly.

“I told you, nothing will work.”

He gave you a stern look. “Sleeping and resting are two different things.” He replied immediately.

You raised an eyebrow in interest, motioning for him to explain.

“You attempt to battle insomnia by working on something, that means that your body is in constant work, your brain has to process what you are providing it. This means that your overall efficiency decreases exponentially.”

He then craddled a hand over your head, threading through your hair softly, the whisper of a touch that was meant to soothe someone. Understanding began dawning on you.

He continued.

“Whereas, despite running on a lack of sleep, you’ll find that sitting on this position, while provided comfort allows your body to have a break from everything. Set a stop to the overflow of work.”

You blinked at the wall owlishly, placing focus on the sensations enveloping you in that moment. The rustle of clothes together, Connor’s hands still threading through your hair delicately. The position itself, while initially uncomfortable provided a solid base for your body to relax while still feeling supported.

You might have underestimated your body’s endurance, for the sake of letting your mind rush ahead from your needs.

You found that resting while being awake was an eternal heaven to ponder and relax with the advantage that time advanced in a slow crest, patient, watching the world sleep.

And while you still didn’t sleep, your eyes acquired a droopy blink, slow, just as your muscles relaxed as well and you fully lay your head on the android’s chest.

A soft, lulling cloud of warmth and safety.

“This is wonderful.” You admitted shamelessly, taking to drawing patterns over Connor’s hand, following the lines that made up any human hand. It was hard to imagine at times, that he wasn’t a human biologically.

The thing is, he was human, maybe more human than many people out there.

“Hank once told me that he did this too.” The RK800 closed his eyes, the memory not quite running vividly, but his system could replicate a slight echo of the man’s words.

“With his son.” You shifted your gaze upward, watching his eyes move under pale eyelids. “Sometimes, he got scared of the night, suffered from sleeping problems that made school difficult.”

He remembered Hank’s smile, nostalgic, not quite sad really as he unconsciously began retelling certain memories of his past to the android. His wife wasn’t a common topic of discussion, moreover his little boy.

“He told me that this, feeling warm, safe, helps someone feel at ease. Seeing you work tonight made me remember that. Are you afraid of the night, (Y/N)?” Just like that he moved onto the question, winning a surprised laugh out of you.

“I used to be.” You provided, recalling the many nights spent staring at the safe light of the nightligh by your bed. “Not anymore. I think I just don’t allow myself to rest like I used to before.” You trailed off thoughtfully. It was interesting when you thought of it. What if your sleeplessness was due to something in your life that prevented you from fully relaxing?

“I think-” You paused, eyes narrowing a bit. “I think I just don’t like feeling alone, you could say.” You moved your head in a so so motion.

“It’s not necessarily that I can not live without someone by my side but rather being on my own makes me oddly aware of where I am and all. It’s like a child having nightmares, they are able to go to sleep again after their mother comforts them because they have that reassurance.”

Your eyes met at one point.

“I guess insomnia is the physical form of feeling as though you are the only one because everyone else is sleeping, and you are still moving. But there isn’t really anyone else to move along with too.”

It wasn’t the best way to explain but it was a start.

The corners of Connor’s eyes crinkled along with his soft smile.

“Androids and humans aren’t so different hmm?” He mused.

You smiled back.

“You are right. And I’m glad I can see those similarities.”

Everything would be okay.

[sherlockbelstaff]

That time where Connor had no clue who Bryan Dechart was.

Bryan who?|Detroit Become Human|Connor x Reader

Request by: None

Connor x Reader (Neutral)

Word Count: I’ll edit that later in, I’m too tired to do the count.

A/N: Feel free to smite me for taking so long into posting something.

Summary: There’s a reason Connor looks so much like that Bryan Dechart.

If Connor weren’t aware of every single movement (Y/N) did, he would’ve been startled by the magazine landing on his desk with a plat.

He stole a glance at the cover, frowning slightly at the picture presented in front of him.

“Well?” (Y/N) asked, raising both arms as if saying ‘I’m waiting’, descending in a heavy fall.

He blinked slowly. “Well, what?” He asked, somehow feeling at a loss of something important here.

Huffing out some incoherent reply, they grabbed the magazine, and splayed the image right in front of his eyes.

“You didn’t tell me you looked like Bryan Dechart.” They demanded, and Connor would’ve felt some guilt within him if he had some clue as to what they were referring to and most importantly, what the problem was.

“Bryan Dechart who?” He tipped his head to the side, brows furrowing deeply, with each passing second having to ignore the Software Instability pop up at the corner of his vision.

“Oh my g-” (Y/N) was close to teetering over the limit of their patience. Connor didn’t doubt that. “Your face. Your face. And his face.” They pointed back and forth, from picture to android frantically. “The same. You both look the same.”

He seemed to understand what the problem was, or at least he hoped he was aiming in the right direction, the situation wasn’t getting any simpler.

“Android models have to be based off from an existing living being, of course Cyberlife must have their consent and approval, which would lead to a contract after months of processing.” He paused, finding that he didn’t quite see himself with the smiling person on the paper. He almost asked about the magazine’s paper state until his eyes zeroed on the date of release.

Many years ago.

“Cyberlife, after all, looked to replicate an android’s appearance as close to a human as they could in order to make sure communication and interaction are successful.” He lifted deliberately his gaze, chin raised high to challenge (Y/N)’s stunned expression with a small smile of his own.

“I assume you were familiar with him already?” He teased.

The magazine landed with a louder splat on his face.

[sherlockbelstaff]

Ya boy just basically slept through the last two days. Exciting stuff.

[sherlockbelstaff]

Honey and Sting|Detroit Become Human|Gavin x Innocent!Reader

Request by: @river-ride

Gavin x Reader (Female)

Word Count: 1,417

A/N: Feel free to smite me for taking so long into posting something.

Summary:

A fork was gently placed on his open palm, the sound of (Y/N)’s soft laugh tugging him to his where and when.

Where, the problem lied. It wasn’t as though he had a problem with people seeing (Y/N) around him. The biggest and must sour twisting fucking issue was the fact that people had to see him around her.

--

“Twenty bucks that he’s on something.” Johnson quirked.

Adams cracked a smile, coffee gurgling slightly while he cackled in his sip.

“You’re on, man.” Without taking their gaze away from Detective Gavin, they clasped a hand to seal their pact.

Three seats over, anyone with perfect hearing would be able to listen in to the men’s conversation without an issue. Gavin had to rely on his weekly sessions on anger management with his therapist in order to not stomp over to Johnson and Adams to give them a piece of their mind.

Count to three, focus on something concrete and refrain from beating the phck out of those shi-

“Good evening Gavin.” Whatever intrusive rushing through his mind in that moment halted with an abrupt whir as soon as he heard her sweet voice.

Honey, soft, warm eyes that could brighten up anyone’s day. Easy going concern that was born out of a kind heart. Whatever entity had decided to pair him with a pure personality like hers was probably playing a heavy prank on him.

The clutter around the bar even reached a momentary halt, most being customers concurring to the bar just as he did. The palpable stupefaction in the atmosphere was choking, and he swore that he heard Adams literally choke on his coffee.

With a distasteful sideglance, Gavin left his seat, the ugly expressions usually taking over his face magically replaced with a genuine happiness that even he himself doubted was capable of executing in all of his pathetic life.

God, he was in deep shit.

“I apologize for being late.” She smiled sheepishly, placing her purse on the counter. “If you have to return to work I don’t mind postponing the-”

“It’s not a problem.” He blurted stupidly, cursing every god out there that had the audacity of making his legs shake with pure unadulterated nerves to pair up with sweating hands that he not so gracefully cleansed against his worn out jeans. Why hadn’t he chosen something better to wear? Some effort needed right there pal. A great beginning to the evening.

“Fu- uh.” He could feel one of his brain cells dying to replace his swearing with actual proper words. “For now I say we take a seat and uh- enjoy some drinks. Order anything you like.” He ushered her gently to her seat before sliding in on the one next to her, ushering the bartender over.

His coworkers would’ve probably followed every movie cliché of bullying his attitude if it weren’t for the fact that they were arduously trying to process just what the fuck was happening right in front of them.

The Earth might as well swallow him up whole and end his suffering.

--

Phck Phck Phck Phck Phck.

“You didn’t have to, (Y/N).” She didn’t really have to.

And yet the delicious scent of a homemade meal, the beautiful sight in front of him, the spices wrapping around him in a luring cocoon. Hell, it was just food, but any sane person that has been eating off from microwaveable meals, just like him, would testify just how mind blowing was to have a homemade meal in their hands.

He didn’t almost shed a tear because of that.

A fork was gently placed on his open palm, the sound of (Y/N)’s soft laugh tugging him to his where and when.

Where, the problem lied. It wasn’t as though he had a problem with people seeing (Y/N) around him. The biggest and must sour twisting fucking issue was the fact that people had to see him around her.

She was just the complete opposite of what he stood for, with those pastel coloured clothes that compared nothing to the softest expression that never seemed to leave her. When people found out they were dating, he didn’t really blame them for gaping explicitly at him.

Really, he didn’t blame the poor souls that had to see that happen.

By that point the precinct knew who she was. She even seemed to liven up the atmosphere that at times became tedious and dull.

So he did the only thing he thought of in that moment.

He ate his problems away with some wonderful food.

And oh, he almost moaned at the first bite, the juiciness of the chicken, the gravy, soft and cloudy mashed potates that couldn’t compare with those awful store-bought meals. He was in heaven, he had died and gone to heaven.

“Excuse me Detective. I need you to sign some papers.”

And then the moment broke because, that was how life worked. At least it always did for him.

Then he was swiveling on his chair, mid-bite in a piece of tender chicken, gravy sliding down his chin in a slow trek.

Fuck, the android.

Then he realizes.

Fuck, the android he most certainly didn’t talk to nicely.

He stole an urgent glance at (Y/N), sitting down at the edge of the desk, smiling kindly at him at his clear enjoyment of her food.

He might’ve choked with the chicken.

Grabbing a napkin from the small pile in the crumpled back where the food had been stored, he dabbed at the gravy slathered on his face, clearing away the rasp in his voice with a big gulp of coffee.

Then he looked at the puppy android.

“You need me to sign what?” He asked. And he didn’t know why he was getting angry, because the android had done nothing, and yet there was this increasing fire inside him, motioning his body with a he’s an android with puppy eyes, what the fuck is going on with the world.

What truly busted his brain was the fact that the android clearly knew why he was angry and took all those shoves, glares, swears without any sign of offense taken.

“This.” Connor handed him a file, plastered with rows upon rows of neat handwriting, oh what the hell, he could clearly recreate any font on paper, he doubted he knew or possessed what was an individual handwriting.

And he almost retorted with an I bet you could copy off my own signature you plastic dipshit until something, someone, moved in the corner of his vision and stepped closer to the android.

“You must be Connor. I’ve heard plenty about you.” (Y/N) offered a hand to shake, and Connor being the secret smug bastard he was, must’ve calculated the situation with his computer brain, or whatever way he processed stuff, and realized what exactly was going on.

“Connor. Pleased to meet you.” He smiled sweetly at her. And his smile was as sweet as hers, but there was just that missing essence that would differentiate human from android.

Or maybe Gavin was just trying to find a way not to correlate how similarly kind they both were.

Ugh.

And next thing he knew, the android bastard was bringing up (Y/N)’s hand to press a kiss on it, the motion innocent enough. But then he was looking at Gavin, and smiling with something else, something that had his therapy sessions SELECT and DELETE. 

Gavin had to clutch the arms of his chair not to throw himself into a fight with Connor.

But he did grab the jumble of papers, jot down his signature and move to a tense stand, stepping up into Connor’s space -If only he was slightly taller- and press the folder against the android’s chest with some extra force delivered to the push.

He took a long moment of silence, mouth open to deliver a well deserved swear, but hold up, he couldn’t do that, (Y/N) was there, and Connor was not looking at him with a pleased expression of Take your time Detective, all the time you need.

“Here are your papers.” He gritted, breathed out. Then- “Connor.”

The android set into motion, taking the file and tilting his head to the side, significantly moving closer to him and whispering. “Your effort is greatly appreciated Detective Reed.” Stepping back and away from his desk to his own.

If Gaving weren’t too proud of himself, he would’ve felt touched by the comment.

What he did though, was feel overwhelmingly warm when (Y/N) rubbed a soothing hand on his back, still smiling, just sending him into a sudden spiral of Maybe Connor isn’t that bad.

Perhaps it was just the moment, having her close to him automatically igniting those thoughts.

Or maybe her kindness was starting to get to him.

[sherlockbelstaff]

Do you have a masterlist???

I’m still figuring out the technicalities of creating masterlists in Tumblr. Believe me, I would Love to do so, but I don’t want to mess it up. If anyone knows how to do so and would be willing to spare some time to explain this confused person you are very welcome to message me or send an explanation.

[sherlockbelstaff]

I JUST READ THE CONNOR TICKLING READER IMAGINE AND IM JUST- UGH. CONNOR. PLEASE.

Connor yes.

[sherlockbelstaff]

I LOVED your Ticklish story with Conner❤️❤️❤️. It was so cute and it just made me smile while I was reading it. If you could do a part 2 that would be AMAZING✨💕

First of all, thank you! ✨✨

Second, I didn’t have a second part planned but I don’t see why not!

[sherlockbelstaff]

Not a request - just a compliment! I started following a lot of DBH reaction blogs and you're one of my FAVES! Keep up the good work <3

Aww thank you, love! Will do. <3

[sherlockbelstaff]

Honestly when I first finished writing this I thought it wasn’t good but I honestly didn’t expect it to blow up like this (in a very good way). I’m practically speechless. Thank you all so much.

Ticklish|Detroit: Become Human|Connor x Reader (Female)

A/N: This was very fun to write! Enjoy.

Warnings: None.

Connor x Reader (Female)

Summary: But he had no idea you would jump in place, neither make or rather squeak into thin air. The both of you stayed silent for a moment. Then, Connor slowly… repeated the action, this time purposely. You laughed, covering your mouth with a hand that brought it to an abrupt stop. Connor felt a pair of hands settle over his and unstick them away from your stomach.

“Connor, don’t.”

***

“Hey son, could you ask (Y/N) if she could fix up a coffee for me as well?” Connor’s fixed attention on the files he was registering in his memory was cut off at the sound of the Lieutenant. He retreated his hand away from the keyboard, his skin materializing back over the white porcelain of his hands before directing his gaze towards Hank.

“Right away Lieutenant- I mean… Hank.”

Becoming a deviant gave him a freedom he wasn’t used to. He had a mind of his own now, with no instructions to maneuver him around anymore. Sometimes he had to remind himself that it was alright to drop the formalities with Hank. More importantly, he was considered a friend and an individual that was alive. It hadn’t flown past his attention the fact that he was now regarded as a human being.

And it felt nice.

Though Gavin still remained a prick, there was no change in that.

“Thanks Connor.” Anderson returned to his own pending work, hands moving over the keyboard. The android pushed back in his chair, standing up and going to push the chair back in. But he halted mid action, taking an innocent look around the office before turning on his side and pushing said chair in with his hip.

As much as a small action it was, it was very much invigorating to be able to move like that. His former program strictly held him on a more professional stride, meaning he couldn’t or wouldn’t think of moving the chair the way he just did. But he did it, and it felt wonderful to communicate his own feelings that way.

He started making his way to the kitchen area with a small spring in his stride, spotting you in front of the counter. It was clear you hadn’t noticed his presence so it wasn’t quite difficult to slide in behind you and wrap his arms around your waist to peek over your shoulder. He had seen and heard of the meaning of hugs. Some humans used it as a greeting so he decided to try it himself instead of what he usually did.

You seemed a bit tense though, maybe you were working too much.

“Uh- Connor?” You craned your neck to get a good look at him, your hand frozen on the spoon you were using to mix. “What are you doing?”

“Lieutenant Anderson has politely requested that you make a cup of coffee for him, if you would.” The corners of his mouth tugged upwards into a soft smile. “As for your inquire on my actions at this present moment, I’ve decided to try a hug for a greeting.” His head tipped aside, mouth parting slightly as he took a general look at you. “Though it seems you are not keen of such. If you don’t find yourself at a comfortable position I won’t repeat it again.”

“No- No it’s fine. Really. You just… caught me off guard.” You offered him a smile in return before retaking the task of mixing the coffee with the spoon. Connor watched your every move. The way the coffee swirled around in the cup and made different patterns. How you reached up for another cup in the cabinet above your head. The RK800 flexed his fingers lightly against your stomach, not quite intentional; he was familiar with unconscious movements that he did every now and then.

But he had no idea you would jump in place, neither make or rather squeak into thin air. The both of you stayed silent for a moment. Then, Connor slowly… repeated the action, this time purposely. You laughed, covering your mouth with a hand that brought it to an abrupt stop. Connor felt a pair of hands settle over his and unstick them away from your stomach.

“Connor, don’t.” You gabbled sheepishly. It wasn’t exactly a warning, but rather trying to prevent it from happening. And before he could ask precisely why, you added too quietly. “I’m ticklish….” As if it was something wrong, or rather dangerous.

But being ticklish wasn’t… or was it?

His eyes zoned straight forward, accessing his database.

Ticklish: quick to laugh if someone lightly touches one’s skin.

He blinked rapidly, the information fading into nothing as he looked at his hands, quite close to you. Quite available for tickling. When he went in to do it again, you dodged, escaping under his hold and away from the counter. His intentions were rather clear for you to realize quickly.

“Connor.” You warned half-seriously, holding out both of your arms in front of you, as some sort of shield to protect you from tickling hands. “(Y/N). Allow me to explore this… fascinating discovery I’ve just made about you.” Persuasion and kindness, even curiosity laced his tone as he dared take another step forward just as you stepped backwards.

You both froze in place, and as if on cue, you took off at the same time. Connor followed behind you, knowing that eventually he would catch you; either by pure speed or the fact you would get tired and he wouldn’t. You dodged in time to evade crashing into an officer, skidding out of control at a loss of equilibrium but fortunately impulsing yourself back to stability with Hank’s desk.

“Connor, (Y/N). What the fuck are you two doing!? This is not a playground!”

“Sorry Hank! It won’t happen again.” He followed suit, not even looking back at the other. You had made your way into the lobby, trying to make your way through without any incidents and calculating at the same time what would be the safest route. Connor had it a bit easier since he just had to follow you, but a group of officers were making it difficult to not lose sight of you when they shuffled in hrough the entrance.

Taking those golden seconds with the android all caught up behind, you skittered to a stop to sort out your options. You could: leave the building altogether, but that would not put up a well image with Fowler; go in the elevator, where you would be safe for a temporary time; or the stairs, which would give you more options to hide in different stories easily. The stairs seemed to be the best option but you were tiring quickly and would be glad to have a break.

The elevator it is then.

“(Y/N)!” He was close and you dared not take a look back as you took off straight towards the doors that were closing… closing… You could still make it and leave no place for Connor to slide in. The RK800 slid to a stop with a mild curse, hands pressing up on the glass doors before looking up at your peeking form that was ascending the building. He looked around wildly, then grinned when he saw the stairs.

You shuffled back, horrified upon seeing the android’s running was almost matching the speed of the elevator. When he could, he would steal a glance at you, the bastard tease doing a salut when you were close to reaching the stop and he was already running towards the soon to be arriving elevator.

You practically served yourself on a silver platter.

The ding of the elevator that alerted of the doors opening almost marked the continuation of your chase. You tried to shuffled out together with the man that had been there but Connor was astute enough to pretend to bump with you and push you back in the elevator. Keeping you backed up against the farthest end, he blindly inputted a number and waited until the doors closed before turning to you.

You mentally prepared yourself, and soon enough, Connor’s hands were on you, breaking hell lose.

An android receptionist stopped working, looking around in confusion as she tried to find the source of the muffled laughter. When she saw the elevator descending with the pair inside, a smile spread on her face and she returned to work.

[sherlockbelstaff]

He is Connor (Continuation)|Detroit: Become Human|Connor x Reader (Neutral). And RK900.

A/N: Requested by- @autumnboze00

Thank you for requesting! This is probably the longest piece I have written ever. Also, I must warn you that you may get confused if I suddenly change from you to them when referring to the reader since it is in third person. This shouldn’t be a problem when I revise it later on.

It’s so good to have broken out of the writer’s block. I honestly was so miserable xD.

Anyways, Enjoy. ✨

Warnings: RK900 (I feel I made him a bit psychopathic here. Forgive me.)

Connor x Reader (Neutral)

Summary: It wasn’t difficult to see that he was taking advantage of those memories, moments and inside jokes that a month ago would’ve made them smile but now stabbed a knife in their stomach deeply, gripping the handle and twisting it just to see (Y/N) grimace.

“An android that fell in love with a human. Who would’ve thought?”

***

“I don’t know what to do anymore Hank.”

Defeat.

“You still have me kid.”

Consolation.

A choked back sob. A hug between friends.

“I want to wake up. I want this nightmare to stop.”

Fear.

***

“S-Stop right there!” (Y/N) gripped their gun, shaking, stealing a glance at the unconscious figure of their friend, unmoving, limp.

It wasn’t as if Finn and (Y/N) had something going on. Good friends is what thh were, known each other since school and practically survived highschool thanks to the support of each other. They were siblings, inseparable thanks to the friendship between their parents.

And now he was hurt, crumbling to the ground with the blow to the head Connor had perfectly delivered with his own elbow. He probably would’ve attempted more if they hadn’t taken out their gun and pointed it straight to his head.

He had the guts to look pleased with his actions.

And angry, so damn angry that (Y/N) had spent time with their friend.

“I didn’t like the way he was touching you.” He admonished, folding his arms back in a haste stretch, as if he was getting ready for a fight, or more likely showing he wasn’t afraid to proceed on more stern measures.

“Are you fucking insane?!” (Y/N)’s shout bounced off the walls, loud, disbelieving. “Have you any idea of what you have done?” They approached him with long yet slow strides. Anything could happen, destroy or bring what had been tensing up silently between them to a final closure.

When he failed to answer, choosing to just stare, they lowered their gun to rest aside.

“You.” (Y/N) bit out shakily, more frightened than they would’ve liked it to sound. Their invasion of Connor’s space did not bothered him in the least, much less the finger that jabbed at his chest roughly.

The park is empty with the exception of them. The cold winds of February are enough to complement the tension stretching thin between the android and detective.

“Me.” The RK900 stated unaffectedly.

The branches of trees gently swayed with the currents, oblivious.

(Y/N) looked away, seemingly deciding to not finish what they had in mind. Then, with a small glance, they whispered.

“You will never be like him.”

Connor’s hands closed up but otherwise he didn’t do anything else.

The silence stretched into an eternity, time became incoherent and the world around them didn’t matter anymore.

“So stop. Stop pretending you are him.”

The look of rage that washed over his features should’ve been enough to warn (Y/N) about what would happen next.

The android set into motion, closing up the space that separated him from them. His arms wrapped arpund (Y/N) in a not so gentle embrace, painful, pressing them up to his chest. He was not planning on letting them go any time soon. He was going to do anything and everything to have them for his own. Connor would not have them back.

Connor was dead.

“I hate repeating myself (Y/N).” He hissed, not budging in their attempts to squirm out of his hold. Their arms were trapped in between both, rendering them useless and furthermore leading them to a dead end.

“You are mine. Forget Connor. I am your Connor-“

“Stop saying that.”

“You will see that I’m better. You and I (Y/N). You and I.”

“Stop.”

“Connor can’t and won’t be back. I killed him with my own hands after all.”

“No...”

“It wasn’t difficult to implant a ‘fault’ in his systems. I made sure Cyberlife ended the RK800.”

(Y/N) slumped in his hold, banging a weak fist on his chest. Resolve diminishing. Hopes fading.

“Why are you doing this?” They asked softly, almost fusing with the gentle whispers of the wind that ruffled their hair in its path.

The RK900’s eyes gleamed maliciously.

“Because there was no other way to-“ Connor suddenly grimaced, eyes roaming around wildly. (Y/N) watched as the words died in his mouth, a small trickle of blue blood that contrarested remarkably against his skin tone, starting its trek down his mouth, chin and neck to disappear into the hem of his sweater.

He tried to speak, mouthing intelligible words but ending up gurgling out more blood, body convulsing erratically before, with a final cough of thirium, collapsing back. (Y/N)’s eyes unfocused momentarily, mind trying to keep up with what just had happened.

Behind him, stood Connor, the real Connor. Albeit a little mangled and barefoot. The Cyberlife uniform was gone, exchanged for what held resemblance with hospital scrubs. His hair was still combed to the side neatly and in his hand he held what could, without fail, be recognized as a thirium pump regulator, Biocomponent #8451, swimming over a layer of blood that extended up to Connor’s elbow, matting the thin cloth to his arm.

The biocomponent landed with a clatter on a spot next to the RK900, unmoving.

“(Y/N).” The gentle way which he had spoken that word set the world right once again.

The difference between the RK800 and 900 suddenly seemed as clear as water, and just the act of meeting gazes with him, that soft, brown, and kind gaze, wore all the fear and helplesness away.

The android took a step forward, hesitant, arms still reaching out into thin air.

“Finn. I’ve checked his vital signs and called medical assistance.” He sputtered, the desperation to close the space, the need to be sure that they were not going to break, all of those emotions broadcasting in his eyes so openly.

So (Y/N) closed it, clinging onto Connor like their lives depended on it. The sobs that shook their form had the android tightening his hug, turning them away to not face his dead counterpart anymore.

“It’s okay (Y/N)... I’m here... It’s over...” His words were hushed, delicate, reassuring. If someone else was to be watching the interaction, they would think that Connor was no less human. The emotions on his face were so complex that it was impossible to deem him as a robot.

“It’s not okay.” (Y/N) clamored between tears.

Connor tipped his head back, looking up at the starry sky that filled the night with constellations. His hand, devoid with blood, rubbed slow circles on their back.

“It might not be, although I suppose it could’ve been worse don’t you think?”

He is human and he is alive. He is Connor, an RK800 that had done the impossible to somehow stop the extinction of his model and save his loved one from a living nightmare.

He is Connor.

***

Tag list:

@glitch-girl318

[sherlockbelstaff]

He is Connor|Detroit: Become Human|Connor x Reader (Neutral). And RK900.

A/N: Requested by- @autumnboze00

Thank you for requesting! This is probably the longest piece I have written ever. Also, I must warn you that you may get confused if I suddenly change from you to them when referring to the reader since it is in third person. This shouldn’t be a problem when I revise it later on.

It’s so good to have broken out of the writer’s block. I honestly was so miserable xD.

Anyways, Enjoy. ✨

Warnings: RK900 (I feel I made him a bit psychopathic here. Forgive me.)

Connor x Reader (Neutral)

Summary: It wasn’t difficult to see that he was taking advantage of those memories, moments and inside jokes that a month ago would’ve made them smile but now stabbed a knife in their stomach deeply, gripping the handle and twisting it just to see (Y/N) grimace.

“An android that fell in love with a human. Who would’ve thought?”

***

“First thing tomorrow (Y/N), I promise.”

“No buts now. We’ve been postponing this for too long.”

“I know. And I’m terribly sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”

***

It’s not okay.

Three hours in (Y/N)’s shift the next day were enough to tell them something was just not right. The air had a tense quality to it, unconsciously putting everyone on an edge for some reason. It just felt so... wrong.

When he walked in, your suspicions turned into facts, sending you into a light panicked state. It probably shouldn’t have caused any problems, it was still him after all. Just bolder, stiffer, monotonous and... unsettling. A mirror image of your colleague, friend and partner. But... this side of the mirror wasn’t inviting.

“Detective (Y/L/N).” (Y/N) straightens up, hands hovering with uncertainty over the transparent keyboard of their terminal. Heartrate picks up, pressing uncomfortably against their chest. Twisted knots of fear settle deep in their stomach. There was no reason for them to fear, this was Connor, their Connor. Yet why was (Y/N) feeling so cold?

“It’s me, Connor. The renewed and updated version: RK900. I didn’t mean to make you wait. I guarantee it will not be repeated again.”

(Y/N) tenses up at the trickle of words that emerge from the android’s mouth and pour into their ears like needles. At the sight of them slowly clenching closed their hands, the android shifts, leaning over and next to (Y/N), planting a hand over the smooth surface of their desk. The RK900 doesn’t stop there, moving in, tilting his head to the side slowly to get a clear vision of (Y/N).

“You can trust me when I say this-“ The beginning of their name lays on the tip of his tongue, unpronounced. His eyes lock into theirs, brows lower than usual and blue eyes shining with the glint of the office lights above them. “I’m still the same Connor. Same memories...” His hand reaches for theirs and they still, a shiver running up their legs and spine to transform into an anxious ball that collectively impacts against their resolve.

“Same ideas...” His fingers come in contact with (Y/N)’s, settling over their hand lightly. His thumb delicately strokes over their wrist and without warning, turns their hand to face upwards, continuing his feather-like trail in a fascinated exploration. His touch trascended from wrist to palm, the tips brandishing hotly over the expanse of soft skin.

(Y/N) was sure he could feel the erratic beating of their heart, lips quirking up in a pleased demeanor. His LED blinked with a passive blue, and as he interwined his own fingers with theirs, they caught his words. Barely, in a hushed reassurance.

“And same desires.” He drawled out silkily, enough to make (Y/N) push their chair back and stand up, the screech loud enough to call the attention of busy workers surrounding them. Their chest heaved deeply, bottom lip quivering in their restraint to fight back the tears. They would not let themselves cry in front of him- they didn’t know what to call him anymore.

That wasn’t Connor. No matter the looks, voice, or the fact that he had his memories. The android (Y/N) used to admire was just not there.

And just like that, the moment was over. When (Y/N) opened their eyes, it was to see the retreating back of Connor, strutting with arms bent behind his back and chin held up high.

(Y/N) dropped back on their chair heavily, pressing a hand up in the crease of their brows as a killer migraine made itself known.

Fuck Cyberlife and their ability to replicate their models down to the last detail.

***

“Here are the reports to the investigation, everything you need to know. From the victim ID to what we’ve found in the systems. The crime scene is yours, I’m taking a break.” Wilson placed a thick folder on their stretched out palm, giving them an incline of his head before disappearing through the door.

(Y/N) eyed the contents of the folder, grimacing at the details they had at their disposal. No matter how long they had been working at DPD, they would never get over the gruesome murders, blood and guts spilled on otherwise unconspicuous places. It made them shake their head in disbelief, the extent and savagery that some people and androids reached whether empty handed or weilding a weapon was enough to make them lose a bit more of the faith they had for humanity and the world.

Detroit’s afternoon showers were blocked out from the inside of the house as the door creaked shut. (Y/N)’s shoes thunked against the old wooden floor, the door just as worn away with wood chips actually brittling away at the barest of contact. The house was relatively old, clearly unkempt. It wasn’t difficult to imagine that it could’ve been a very homey place if one was to erase all the damage, moss and soot covering the walls.

The detective shut the folder with a clasp and set to work, starting a slow trek through the house. There was blood- well- practically everywhere, and a simple glance at the ceiling confirmed that the range of blood spill had been brutal enough to reach that location alone.

The victim alone was the worst part, as it was in every crime scene (Y/N) has been present throughout all their career as a detective. The body was shredded to pieces, half of the body, from chest to navel ripped out messily. The limbs stretched out in a contorted sprawl, making (Y/N) briefly imagine the theatrics of a clay representation of the victim, being shot down —as reports claimed— and falling like a ragged doll until formig a bloody heap on the ground.

That raised the question as to why the murderer would aim to pluck out flesh when the person was already dead.

This was no job for a squeamish being. Upon investigating, personal matters disappeared mid air and clearly the department’s superiors wouldn’t give a damn whether seeing raw, putrid flesh spread out across the floor made them sick. What mattered was to get the job done, and (Y/N) understood that perfectly.

But Jesus...

A flash of black, white and blue caught their attention. (Y/N)’s eyes flickered once, confirming the identity of the person -or rather android- that had moved to stand right besides them. They crossed their arms over their chest and decidedly glared at the corpse as if it was the root of all their problems.

“Gruesome I’d say.” The android is tilting his head, as if examining the bloodied body in front of him like an extravagant piece of art. Connor’s words are borderline to sounding psychopathic, (Y/N) would say. It wasn’t as if the man found the dead body pleasing, he just seemed to look at it with an unsettling fascination.

Could an android actually be psychopathic?

(Y/N) is adamant in keeping silent, mouth pressed tightly shut, afraid that if they didn’t, they would just quiver.

Because it has been three weeks since they last saw their Connor and it has been the most suffering, hurting and destroying weeks they have ever been through. When (Y/N) first had seen him, they harboured hope within themselves, thinking that maybe- maybe his appearance and clothes were the only thing that changed, that he would still be the soft, kind and caring android that (Y/N) had grown to love more than anything.

In the end, that hope had crumbled.

Avoiding the RK900 wasn’t an option as his purpose, clearly, was to aid the detectives of DPD with cases.

“You know, detective, ignoring my presence is becoming tiresome.”

But that chemistry that existed between them and Connor, the company they offered each other and the many small details that without fail made (Y/N)’s days better, simply didn’t exist anymore. And damn that bastard knew very well where to poke and jab to incite a reaction from (Y/N).

“But on the other hand... I must say this whole experience has been... quite enlightening.”

It wasn’t difficult to see that he was taking advantage of those memories, moments and inside jokes that a month ago would’ve made them smile but now stabbed a knife in their stomach deeply, gripping the handle and twisting it just to see (Y/N) grimace.

“An android that fell in love with a human. Who would’ve thought?”

He had them bleeding out with his own hands.

“I have to hand it to Connor though. An android working for Detroit Police Department that went deviant and completely backed off from his programmed principles? Not everyone has the guts to go against their creator.”

I have to hand it to Connor though.

All thoughts simultaneously halted in their run, punching (Y/N)’s breath out. Their form stilled, hands balling into fists with anger, fear, and confusion.

That was not their Connor.

That was not (Y/N)’s Connor...

A pair of hands wrapped around their own, shaking the file off them and pulling (Y/N) close to him. If he weren’t an android, (Y/N) would have felt his breath, close, probably warm from the proximity. The RK900 had a cold body, yet emitted small waves of warmth that couldn’t compare to real body heat.

“I don’t like it.” His grip was turning skin preassure white, finger lifting and lowering to get a tighter hold on their hands. (Y/N) tried pulling away, but as she already knew, they wouldn’t be able to do so, rendering them helpless. There was no competition in between the strength of an android to them.

(Y/N)’s confidence wavered, and felt the tight lacings of panic making her legs shake. Their head tipped back, the pain intensifying every passing second, choking back a whimper that would just show their weakness.

But he already knew.

“I don’t like it.” He repeated robotically, brows further dipping to end with a narrow of his eyes. Like a predator wondering what it would do next with its prey.

Days after, that expression still woke (Y/N) up in a sweat.

***

To be continued...

***

Tag list:

@glitch-girl318

[sherlockbelstaff]

Hello! First off, I love your fanfics so much! I love how your Conner stories are very factual and robot-like but they also have so much heart and emotion 😭 I don’t have any requests but I do have two questions for you. What are some ships you like in DBH? And what are some of your favorite characters?

Ahh! Thank you, thank you. ^0^ You’ve made my whole day.

As of the ships, I haven’t seen much into those but I definitely have an interest in the ConnorxMarkus and SimonxMarkus ships. And my  favourite characters are definitely Connor and Hank. Their interactions are just pure for me. It makes the crops grow and clears my skin. xD

Thank you for your very nice words and questions. :D

[sherlockbelstaff]

Do you perhaps have a tag list? I’d love to be tagged in your future fics <3

I don’t have as of the moment but I’ll gladly make one and add you to it.

[sherlockbelstaff]

1:43 AM|Detroit: Become Human|Connor x Reader (Neutral)

A/N: This was requested by: @caviwow

I am not too sure if you want someone to ask you about the connor x reader, if you aren’t then please ignore this. You also don’t have to post this, it’s just I ran out of characters if I made this an ask.

If you are then I hope you enjoy some of these ideas I thought of! ^^ have a good day love!

1. Dancing, have the reader want to dance (either at home or at a party) and want connor to dance with them. He doesn’t know how though, cute and fluffy.

I’ll probably do more from the list you sent in, gradually. Here is what I thought up for this one! Enjoy.

Warnings: None.

Connor x Reader (Neutral)

Summary: But he could see it with a far more deeper meaning. Any human was able to do that, match a series of movements with rhythm. But not all added a genuine feeling to it. It was not just a body moving. As far as his eyes could see, dancing was a language. And only that moment, where he stood watching (Y/N) dancing so pleasantly, did he understand those words.

***

You woke up with a start, slowly transitioning in between the point of being asleep and awake. Your body ached throughout, probably from crashing on the couch in a rather slumped up way. Your brows furrowed together, and as you shifted around, a handful of Uno cards slithered to the ground with a flat thud. Your eyes scrolled over to them and squinted at the colours and numbers.

Ah, yes. Game nights with Connor and Hank.

Which reminded you...

You turned your head to the side, spotting Connor sitting next to you criss-crossed, a bit stiffly, looking quite uncomfortable, but you doubted the android would have gotten tired throughout your nap. All the while he had been staring out the window, or at least what he could through the curtains that were drawn in, so when he took a glance at you, he almost returned to gaze out when it registered in his system that you were now awake. You were met with a silent stare.

And hell, if his face didn’t look adorable right then and there. Excuse you, you were still rather laced with the ties of sleepiness so everything running through your mind was rather... bizarre. As well as the fact that you reached up and gave his cheek a gentle pat with your hand.

“Connor, Con, Con. Arrrrrr-Kaaaaaay-Eight Hundred.” You kept patting his cheek gingerly, gradually slowing down to a stop upon realising that: 1) This wasn’t a dream anymore. And 2) You were making a fool of yourself.

You retreated your hand promptly, clearing up your throat. “Sorry.” You mustered, rubbing a hand over your face to repel the lingering exhaustion. “Forget that just happened.”

“It’s perfectly understandable (Y/N).” He waved a dismissive hand in the air, not bothered by what he just witnessed. “If I am correct, humans go through a specific process in between full unconsciousness and consciousness itself. Therefore creating a time frame where one may not be aware of what they are saying, or doing.”

“Well that’s reassuring.” You leaned down and started recollecting the mess of cards that loitered the floor. “Any idea where Hank is?” You kept your gaze focused in your task but noticed Connor shifting from the corner of your eyes.

“Lieutenant Anderson left shortly after you fell asleep. I called him an automated taxi to get him home. As I am sure you remember-“ His head moved animatedly as he spoke. “-he wasn’t exactly capacitated to drive with the level of alcohol he consumed.” He got off the couch and kneeled down besides the group of empty bottles that were huddled aside, grabbing them with both arms and taking them to the kitchen.

You shook your head slowly. “That man drinks beer like water.” You snorted, plucking in the cards in the small box that kept them together. Upon closing it with the lid, the holographic image on the deck disappeared. Now looking like a simple box with transparent cards inside. You started ordering around the living room, hearing the occasional clink of the glass bottles from the kitchen.

You flufffed up the pillows, arranging them neatly across the couch. You straightened back up as soon as it was done and took the half full beer that stood solitarily on the coffee table to sipping from it as you approached the curtains and dragged them open. It was late, outside was dark and the streets were solitary. A quick glance at the clock confirmed it.

1:43 AM.

You probably should go to bed, and you probably shouldn’t be going to your player and choosing a song. But while getting more rest sounded really nice, you couldn’t reject the idea of dancing when the night was so lovely. You stepped back and placed your drink aside, letting the player process in your request while you shed off your suit jacket and draped it over the back of an armchair.

Every step you took you matched with the solo beat from the song’s introduction, walking slowly, dauntingly, just the mood the song itself ignited, until you stood in front of the wide glass panel that allowed you to have a great sight of the city. You did little, most of movement coming from the foot that you tapped against the carpet and the way you gently swayed your shoulders from left to right.

When the beat dropped, you began moving. Your hips undulated, supple as it mimicked the motion you did with your shoulders. Left to right, left to right, bringing you to your tiptoes in a fluid rise, and lowering you to the ground.

Connor stood in silence from the kitchen’s doorway, watching the way you moved, the intriguing rarity that was dancing. He knew what it was, he had seen others do it, but not the way you were. It was as if the world didn’t exist for you, and you were the only one there, swaying without a single care. He could see it in many ways. He could literally see it; each measurement as ever changing, how much you moved from side to side, the angle at which you held up your arms, and slight unnoticeable motions that your body did.

But he could see it with a far more deeper meaning. Any human was able to do that, match a series of movements with rhythm. But not all added a genuine feeling to it. It was not just a body moving. As far as his eyes could see, dancing was a language. And only that moment, where he stood watching (Y/N) dancing so pleasantly, did he understand those words.

Without thinking or trying to stop himself, he moved forward, approaching you, his legs carrying himself up until he was behind you, close, but not much so. The analyzing part of himself wanted to observe and catalogue everything with measurements, but he wanted to see the real thing, that silent language that only a few comprehended. He wanted to understand. He wanted to see, and feel what you felt when you did it.

He acted human, he sounded, looked, and felt human.

But could an android do the same when they had no soul within them?

Disappointed in this realization, he decided just to watch and enjoy what he could have. That is, until you turned around and looked up at him, offering out a hand for him to take. “Dance with me Connor.”

He closed up the remaining space between you both, hands settling over your waist delicately. This... he wasn’t sure what it was. Simple flirtation it could not be, everytime you did it, the both of you, it brought you dangerously close to something he didn’t know what to call. There was nothing holding you or him back from cutting down that gap, yet no one has made the first move. And although he was patient, it always frustrated him. The signs were there, even his own system was able to recollect evidence. Why was no one doing anything?

He snapped out of his conundrum as you set your hand over his shoulder and grasped his opposite hand in yours. You nudged open his legs a bit, took a big step back, and brought him with you, both simultaneously moving. With a slow blink of his eyes, he raised his head, letting you guide him around the living room in gentle strides, murmuring up instructions to his ear. But he couldn’t do the same. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t sway his hips with that perfect imperfection that humans had.

“I can’t do it.” He expressed, letting his head tip down to press his forehead against your head. “I’m not human (Y/N). I can’t do it the way you do.”

“Now that’s where you are wrong.” You whispered. “You are placing boundaries on yourself when there is no need to. So what if you are not human? Even if you are an android, that doesn’t take away the possibility of doing everything we do. You feel like we do. You act like we do. You just have... to... let go.” The grip you had on his shoulder tightened slightly as you said so. “Show me you can do it Connor.”

Taking your words strongly, the RK800 nodded slowly. When the next song started playing, this time he was the one to start the dance, taking a step back, to the right then forward, the both of you silently striding over the carpet. He held your stare with his, not thinking about whether he was doing it right or wrong. He was just letting it happen.

Because that is what gave it that human touch. Humans found true enjoyment when they didn’t worry about how they were doing it. That perfect imperfection. That is what it was. Letting oneself go, to be controlled by their feelings to let them speak on their own.

Connor danced like he had never before. Both human and android went through all types of songs, dancing slowly through the slow-rhythm ones and energetically and the more rapid ones. When they finished through the repertoire that (Y/N) had, they simply stood there, and processed it all.

(Y/N) smiled and Connor smiled back, gently cupping your cheek with a hand. As if thinking the same, you both gravitated to the kiss, soft, a gentle caress that promised of more but was marking the beginning of something in that moment.

It seems you both made the first move.

***

A/N: P.S. Added a kiss to the end because why not. *nervous sweat*

[sherlockbelstaff]

Your Conner x Ticklish Reader fic made me smile so much. I absolutely adore fluffy, sweet innocent stuff like this. I showed it to my friend and she adored it 😭🙏🎀💖💖💖 it was just so damn cute.

Thank you so much for your amazing words. And you showed it to your friend? :o I’m smiling, thank you.