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On Your Knees

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Connor knew from the look in your eyes that he was a goner. You were pacing back and forth in front of him, a predatory gleam lighting your face as you watched him. Thirium pounded in his ears and he was very acutely aware of the fabric of his boxers as they pressed against his skin. Connor winced slightly at the smirk you were now wearing. This was a really bad idea--Hank could come home at any moment--but Connor couldn't bring himself to voice his reservations. You stopped pacing and braced yourself against the chair he was in, your face hanging inches from his. 


"Are you going to be a good boy for me tonight, Connor?" Your voice rolled over him like honey, sending him keening against the rope you had him restrained with. 

You made a small 'tsk' sound and opened up his chest paneling, revealing his biocomponents to you. He gasped, his eyes widening as you wondered what you were going to do first. Making a quick decision, you gently removed one of his secondary biocomponents, something that he could survive easily without. His eyelids fluttered for a moment and he groaned. You hummed and let it fall back into it's socket with a small pop. Connor gasped for a breath he didn't need, his LED spinning red. You smirked and tugged at a wire, causing him to wince in discomfort. 


"I really don't see how this is necessary to a healthy sex life," Connor breathed. Despite his outward protests, Connor couldn't help the thought that, holy shit, that was a rush. He attempted to send away the flashing WARNING in his vision as his temperature skyrocketed. But, fuck if it didn't feel good...

Your scrutinizing gaze darted up to his face and he fell silent, his lips and cheeks taking on a bluish hue. 


"No, you're right, Connor." His relief at your agreement dissipated when you didn't lose the wolfish grin. "If you're scared or don't trust me, now would be the time to announce it." 

His LED spun yellow as he fought with himself. 


"I-It's not that, Detective," Connor began. "I was under the impression that you were going to let me pleasure you, is all. I don't want you to feel like you're obligated to do anything you don't want to."

Connor squared his shoulders, scanning his surroundings out of habit. He was sitting in the middle of Hank's main living room, the coffee table pushed out of the way to make room for his chair. The couch was behind you, and he could see the candles flickering in the kitchen. You were wearing your street clothes, a simple pair of jeans, leather jacket, and your badge as it hung around your neck. Connor had to admit, he loved your street clothes. All in all, it was a precarious situation, but he knew that it was highly unlikely that whatever you had planned would be unpleasant. 

He finally met your gaze once more, determination schooling his features.


"I trust you, sweetheart." He offered you a small smile. "I love you." 

Your heart fluttered at the sound of his words. Even though it wasn't the first time you'd heard him say it, it always made your heart soar to know that you had been the one to capture the heart of the DPD's RK800. You let your domination slip for a second as you pecked his cheek with a soft kiss. 


"I love you, too." You quickly moved past the gentle moment and laughed. "It's cute how you think you could make me do anything I don't want to." 

Connor blanched as you backed out of the room with a coy smile on your face. He was left sitting there, tied to a chair, wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of tightie-whities and his tie in the middle of Hank's living room. For the purposes of this evening, you had made him promise to keep all of his sensors on, including pain, temperature, and pleasure. He made an indignant grunt as he struggled to see where this was going. You were gone for precisely 4 minutes and 35 seconds before returning. 

He frowned. No, you weren't supposed to return with more clothing. You couldn't wipe the shit-eating grin off of your face as you strode towards him, wearing a replica of the suit that Connor normally wore. You had almost every detail down, from the tie to the belt, with the only difference being that you opted for heels instead of Connor's signature black Oxfords.

You straddled Connor's hips, bringing your face close to his. Judging from the way he was shifting beneath you, you'd had to have done something right. 


"Gee, my boy is already getting all worked up!" You nibbled on his earlobe, your hands traveling down his bare torso. You gently closed his chest paneling, instead opting for the feel of the planes of his muscles. 


"What do you expect? You're sexy in a suit," Connor rasped. "Especially my suit." His voice had lowered one or two octaves, if that was even possible. 


"Mmm." You sat more upright, eliciting a whine from Connor as you scooted away from his growing erection. You grabbed his tie in your fist, pulling him forward to kiss your lips. 

Connor struggled against the rope, probably abrading his wrists and causing himself unnecessary bleeding. You stood up and glared at him, drawing him to pause. 


"Good boys don't struggle against their bonds. Good boys don't come unless told to do so." You began undoing your belt, drawing his eyes down to your waist. "Are you my good boy, Connor?"

You couldn't hide your amusement when Connor nodded enthusiastically. He stilled in his seat, his gaze never leaving your face. He wanted you more than you had expected. You unzipped your trousers and slipped your hand down between your legs, working yourself up little by little. Connor frowned, eyeing your progress as you pleasured yourself without him. 


"Detective, may I be included?" He demurred. 

You didn't respond as you came, falling back onto Hank's couch with a small huff. You eyed the growing problem Connor seemed to have and smiled. 


"You've been good so far, Connor. Maybe I should reward you, despite your initial behavior." You undid your tie and proceeded to unbutton your shirt. Connor preened under your praise, his lids lowering and his breathing becoming erratic. Suddenly, however, Connor's gaze fixated on your right hand in fascination. You narrowed your eyes, knowing that he knew something you didn't. 

Then, it hit you as you lowered your eyes to your hands. Not all of the sluice from your orgasm had been your arousal. 


"Ah, fuck-a-duck." You groaned, falling back against the couch, your dom evaporating into embarrassment. "Welp, there goes my plans. Sorry, darling. I guess you gotta wait four to seven days, now."

Connor quizzically glanced between your bloodied fingers and your face, his expression unfazed. 


"I am puzzled by your reaction. Am I supposed to be repulsed because you have begun menstruating?"


"Most men are." You groaned as a cramp hit you in your left ovary and you grit your teeth. "Sorry, Connor. It came early and without warning this month." 

Connor's gaze never left you as you started to strip, discarding your ruined underwear (those were brand-new, dammit) and moved to start cleaning yourself up.


"I see no reason for you to apologise. It is a normal function of a woman your age," He quipped. "If you are in pain, release me from this chair and let me take care of you. Sexual intercourse has been shown to lessen the pain of menstrual cramps." 

Your head snapped up and your cheeks flushed. You were in the process of stuffing some toilet paper in between your legs so you wouldn't bleed all over Hank's floor, but now you were frozen like a deer caught in headlights. Sweet, understanding, sexy Connor. Still apprehensive, you padded towards him in only your bra and a very red face. 


"Are you sure?" You asked softly. You plucked at his bonds, freeing him from your previously planned ministrations. 


"With you, I'm always sure." Connor took your hand and led you to the bathroom, where he instructed you to sit on the edge of the sink. 


"Connor, are you--?"

He shut you up with the sudden intrusion of his tongue into your folds. Connor gripped your legs, keeping them spread for him, and lapped at your center with practiced ease. 


"Fuck! Connor, what--? We've never done this before, how did you--?" Your breathing was quickly becoming ragged.

Connor sat on his heels, his mouth painted red with your blood. He gave you a matter-of-fact smirk, licking his lips as he dove three fingers into you. 


"I've been wondering what you taste like for a while now. The fact that you started your period is just icing on the cake." He swirled his fingers in smooth movements, causing your breath to catch. 


"Jesus, I knew you analyzed blood all the time, but I guess I never thought you'd actually like it..." The more you thought about it, though, "Actually, it makes sense." 

Connor only chuckled and began licking his fingers clean. He undid his tie and removed his underwear, leaving him completely bare as he plunged himself into you. 

You gasped, hugging him close to your chest as he gently rocked back and forth. It was definitely not the evening you had originally intended, but some Connor was better than no Connor. 

You sighed contentedly, your muscles flexing in your third orgasm, when you heard the click of Hank's key in the lock. SHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT--


"AGGH! JESUS, I HATE YOU GUYS!" Hank bellowed as he slammed the bathroom door shut on the sight of Connor with your legs wrapped around him. "Shit, I'm never getting that image outta my head..." 

You heard the sounds of Sumo barking and scratching at the door, disappointed he wouldn't be pet right away. 


"Lieutenant, I can explain!" Connor called out, but Hank only receded into his room with the utterances of several expletives. Sumo's barking faded behind two closed doors and Hank scolded him for not warning him.


"Oof. Probably better that he didn't see me going dom on you anyways." You shrugged, biting your lip in satisfaction as Connor slid out of you. 


"It would have been quite the spectacle, I'm sure." He cleaned you up a little, running a rag over your skin before helping you insert a tampon. Satisfied, Connor sighed apologetically. "I should make sure Hank is okay with this." 

You nodded, sliding off of the counter and beginning to dress. 


"Go get him, Sexy," You winked and he kissed you deeply, his fingers playing with your hair.


"We're going to come back to that other thing you had planned, I promise." He smiled softly. "I find that side of you to be rather intriguing."

Your laughter echoed down the hallway after him.


"I'd say you found it a whole lot more than intriguing, RK800." 



Chapter Text

It was a beautiful day. The morning was uncharacteristically warm for an early-April Saturday in Detroit; the birds sang and the sun shone bright. It was the perfect sort of day to sit outside in the park and paint.

You sighed contentedly, spreading your blanket over the grass and arranging the art supplies you'd brought with you. One of your favorite things in the world was painting. Even though you were more talented in the realm of drawing, painting was a wonderful stress reliever for you. 

The breeze ruffled the trees around you, sending blossoms down into the small pond at the other side of the park. You checked your screen. 8:23. You raised an eyebrow. Shouldn't Connor have returned by now? 


"Bellini's had a line, believe it or not." Connor wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, enveloping you in a soft hug. "A human was manning the register, he had no idea what he was doing." 

You laughed. 


"I'm not surprised. I think he only started this morning at 7:00." You stroked Connor's arm before he pulled back to sit across from you, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning on his hands. "Thank you for running up there for me. Bellini makes the best paints around." 


"Anything for you, darling." Connor leaned forward and kissed the tip of your nose. 

You ripped open your order with enthusiasm. A colorful array of creamy paints sat in beautiful tubes and boxes. You grinned up at him. 


"How did I get so lucky to have you?" 


"I distinctly remember that your roommate went missing, and you helped us find her." Connor winked at you cheekily. "And I also remember that it was I who received the good luck."


"Oh, yeah. I remember now." You giggled at the memory of your first meeting. "You nearly short-circuited when I solved something you couldn't figure out." 


"And I insisted that I had to understand your thought process, following you around like a lost puppy for a good month." Connor rolled his eyes. "My own fault, really. It had to do with art, so I walked myself right into that one."

You snickered, turning to your paints as you pondered what to do today. You swirled your brush in a vat of bright electric blue, eye wandering over to Connor's bare leg. Mischief lit your face as you scooted closer to his outstretched legs. He eyed you curiously but said nothing as you started painting on his skin.

Small swirls and raindrops, curlicues and stripes--you blended the colors into a lighter green, then yellow, then orange, making a slow gradient up his ankle towards his calf--small stripes and little wavy lines...

Connor had to restrain himself from laughing aloud; the paintbrush was very soft, and in combination with the cold paint, he felt very ticklish indeed. He watched your face scrunch up in concentration and glee as you worked, smiling as your brush glided over him. 

You painted Connor's skin for hours, adding tiny details here and there until you reached the hem of his shorts at his mid-thigh. Pleased with your work, you hummed in satisfaction and regarded the rainbow that now covered Connor's skin from ankle to thigh. He tilted his leg back and forth to get a better look at it, his LED spinning between yellow and blue. 


"I like it," He cooed. "It's beautiful. I'm sad that I have to wash it off at some point."

You beamed at him, basking in his approval. He laughed at your expression and pulled you onto his lap. 


"I love you, Connor." 

His LED flew to a solid red. Connor searched your eyes, his eyes growing moist. He pressed his lips to your temple, his fingers squeezing your waist gently. 


"You send my pulse racing every time I'm near you." Connor rested his forehead against yours, his voice soft and vulnerable. "My thoughts never leave you. I can't stop smiling when you're around. If that is love, then I feel all of it for you." 

You couldn't keep the grin from lighting up your face. You shut your eyes, enjoying the feeling of Connor pressed close to you.


"I know humans are very serious about proclamations of love. It's an honor to be considered loved by an artist, especially." Connor grinned when you peeked at him through your lashes. "Feel free to use your paintbrush on me whenever you wish. It makes me feel beautiful--because I am loved by you." 

Tears were spilling over your cheeks before you could stop them. Connor frowned and gently brushed his thumb under your eye, swiping the wetness away. 


"Darling, what's wrong?"

You flung your arms around his neck, peppering his face with wet, happy kisses. 


"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I'm in love with the perfect man and happier than I ever thought I could be."

He pulled you down beside him on the grass, just breathing together. You spent the rest of the morning holding hands and watching the ducks by the pond.



Chapter Text

You clocked into work an hour late on Monday morning. You slumped into your desk, your eyes half-glazed and limbs heavy. It was not a good day. 

Your movements were sluggish, your brain functions impaired. But, because DPD has no mercy on your soul, you were forced to work through one of your low days. In your opinion, it was absolutely fucking asinine that, even though you were diagnosed with depression and anxiety, the higher-ups refused to acknowledge it as a real medical condition. You glared at Captain Fowler's office door. Even though you had medication prescribed for said condition, they still said it was all in your head. Motherfuckers. You sent a subtle flip of the bird at Fowler's back, your patience already obscenely low this morning.

You snorted indignantly and booted up your terminal. You had to at least look like you were doing something (if you wanted to keep your job, that is). You rolled your eyes as you scrolled through the recent cases. You may have been one of the department's best and brightest, but they treated you like dirt nonetheless. They always gave you the "training wheels" cases, as Reed called them.  


"Detective? Are you quite alright? You're producing unhealthy amounts of cortisol." 

You glanced up and were met by the warm gaze of the department's resident RK800, more commonly known as Connor. He had been your friend almost as soon as you'd met him. You were now a year into your transfer to Detroit PD, and he was the one who made it easier. You squinted at him. It was really too early in the morning for this, but, ah, hell--you had to admit you had a  h u g e  crush on him. You managed a weak smile. 


"I'm fine, Connor. I'm just not having the best morning, is all." Your gaze darted behind him. "Where's Hank?"

Connor didn't seem convinced that you were, in fact, fine, but he reluctantly turned his attention to Hank's desk. 


"I don't know. Lieutenant Anderson was supposed to bring back doughnuts for the precinct this morning, but he should have returned by now." 

You snorted in a rather unladylike manner, drawing Connor's eyes back to you. 


"That's a load of shit, Connor. Hank never brings doughnuts for the rest of us. If he told you that, he was trying to get rid of you." You sat back in your chair, kicking your feet up onto your desk. "He's probably getting drunk off his ass." 

He cocked his head and his eyes narrowed. His LED spun. Judging from his expression, he knew it was within Hank's realm of possibility. At least the boy catches on quick. You nodded sympathetically and checked your buzzing phone.


"Detective, may I ask you a personal question?"

You glanced back up from your screen, you didn't realise he was still standing at your desk. You sighed in resignation. 




"How much do you like big dogs?" Connor's curious expression gave nothing away. (Damn his beautiful soft eyes. He was enough to make you melt.)

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 


"Um... I love dogs. I find the big ones to be friendlier than the smaller ones, funnily enough." You frowned slightly. "Why?"


"No reason." He glanced away, his LED blinking yellow for a moment before returning to blue. "It says here that you were diagnosed with anxiety and depression, along with a minor case of post-traumatic stress disorder. I'm very sorry to see that. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better, Detective?" 

Shit. Cat's out of the bag. Well, he was pretty much a supercomputer. You let out a heavy breath through your nose. You'd managed to keep your mental health out of the equation for so long, and for him to dissolve your barriers so quickly--it was a shame for all your hard work to go to waste. 

The only thing that you could possibly do is not safe for work. Noticing Connor staring at you expectantly, you cleared your throat. Flush was creeping up your ears and dusting your cheeks, much to your dismay. You tried for a smile. 


"Thank you for the offer, Connor, but I don't think it's anything you can help with."

Connor frowned for real this time, his LED remaining yellow as he walked off in search of something else. Though the view was nice (damn that boy had a great ass), you really weren't in the mood to start working. You grit your teeth against the deadness spreading in your gut and began filling out paperwork to keep yourself busy. 

You worked past lunchtime and didn't take a break until you finished your stack of reports. Satisfied that you'd beaten your lethargy, you rose to give yourself a break and seek sustenance. 

You rounded the corner of the station, ready to go get a salad or something from the deli down the street, when you were suddenly knocked over by a large, heavy object. You sputtered and squeezed your eyelids shut. Your face was being completely bombarded by a long, raspy thing--was that a tongue?--and you barely able to breathe. You cracked open your eyes to see Hank's dog, the infamous Sumo, showering you with kisses. You snorted in delight and decided to ignore the pain radiating through your body. You started petting him like crazy, your hands raking themselves though his fur affectionately, and making those silly cooing noises that only dog lovers do. 


"Hi, Sumo!" You grinned as he made a heavy borf and wagged his tail. You held him close for a second before realizing that he wasn't here alone. Your eyes traveled up gray trousers to see the RK800 grinning like a smug little shit. He crossed his arms triumphantly, his LED a spinning blue. 


"Where's Hank?" 




"Ah, Lieutenant Anderson seems to have arrived." Connor seemed unfazed as a very red, very angry, and very drunk Hank Anderson stumbled across the street yelling death threats. 


"I LEAVE FOR FIVE MINUTES AND YOU FUCKING DOGNAP SUMO! SOME FUCKING PARTNER YOU ARE!" Hank smacked Connor upside the head, though he was so off-balance it was nothing more than a glancing swat.

Connor shrugged, unperturbed. 

"She needed Sumo more than you did, Hank." Connor indicated to you, laying on your back, with your face flushed and generously covered in dog slobber. You smiled sheepishly up at Hank, who looked ready to murder someone.


"Sorry, Lieutenant. I didn't know there was dognapping involved." You glared at Connor. "Connor, I know you're trying to make me feel better, and that's very sweet of you. But you can't just steal Hank's dog because I'm having an off day!" 

You scratched Sumo one more time before nudging him off of you. He made a grunt in protest but ultimately got up and sat down in front of Connor, panting happily and expecting more pets. Connor complied and scratched Sumo's head with a smile. 


"Dog's a fucking traitor," Hank muttered. "That's my dog, dipshit. You don't get to do with him as you please." 

Hank snatched the leash out of Connor's outstretched hand and attached it to Sumo's collar to take him home. Connor helped you stand, his eyes warm with mirth as the two of you watched Hank stagger off. Connor returned his attention to you, his eyes curious.


"Where were you going just now, Detective?" 


"I was going to get some lunch. I never took my hour at noon, I had to get those reports finished before Gavin put his boot up my ass." You glanced around before sheepishly continuing. "Would you like to go with me? I know you don't eat, but it would be nice to have some company." 

Connor's smile, the first genuine one you'd seen in a while, was like a ray of sunlight on a cloudy day. He beamed at you.


"I would be delighted to accompany you, Detective."

He offered you his arm and you looped your hand into the crook of his elbow as you crossed the street. 



You scarfed down a big pear and spinach salad in under five minutes, but it wasn't enough. You peeked up through your lashes at Connor, silently wondering if he would judge you for being a pig and eating like a man, as your mother would have done. 


"If you are still hungry, Detective, might I suggest a sandwich?" 

You nodded, embarrassed, and he rose to get you one. You glanced around the deli, at the passerby outside of the shop, anywhere but his retreating back. God, why did I think I could do this? I'm worse than a high school girl with a crush. You worried your lip, wondering if you had it in you to converse with Connor without making an utter fool of yourself. The emptiness gnawed at the base of your skull this time, a dull ache that never seemed to go away when you needed it to.


"I got you a grilled cheese sandwich and some devilled eggs. They didn't have anything else that was vegetarian." Connor set his purchase on the table and you began devouring it immediately.

He watched you for a moment before continuing. 


"I hope I didn't upset Hank too much. I just wanted you to be happily surprised. How are you feeling, by the way? That was a nasty fall." 

You never realized an android could look guilty, and yet here you were, being gently regarded by the eyes of a very sad puppy. 


"It's going to be fine, I think." You lifted your shirt to expose your lower waist, where the flesh was already turning an angry purple. 

Connor winced and traced his fingers across the skin softly. 


"I'm sorry. I didn't know Sumo would knock you over," He apologized.

His eyes found yours and your breath hitched. You let your shirt fall back into place and Connor watched you carefully as you inhaled the rest of your food. You blushed and wiped your face with a napkin. 


"I probably disgust you, huh?" You swallowed thickly, waiting to hear about how you ate like a man, you were a pig, everything your mother always nagged you about.


"Well, at least you have much healthier eating habits than Hank does. I'd much rather spend lunch with you than watch him clog his arteries." Connor tilted his head to the side, his smirk causing your heart to flutter. 

You shrugged, cleaning your hands one last time and chucking the paper wrappers in the bin. 


"I'm not exactly the most popular person in the precinct, Connor." You avoided his eyes as you began the walk back to the station. "I think Chris is the only one who tolerates me."


"Why would you assume that?" 

You laughed at his innocently shocked expression. 


"Connor, I'm a textbook example of resting bitch face. I'm bitter, cynical, and in terms of tomfuckery, I get into more shit than even Gavin. It's not hard to put the pieces together." 


"Well, I like you." Connor stated this firmly, little crow's feet appearing at the corners of his eyes as he focused on the sidewalk. "If you'd allow me to be frank, I think Gavin only bullies you because he thinks you've got bigger balls than he does." 

You snorted, trying to contain your amusement. 


"I think he's afraid of that with everyone, it's not hard to have bigger balls than Gavin Reed." You snickered, "He's just a piece of shit. He treats you like crap because he's threatened by your dashing good looks and your sense of humor." 

Connor cracked a smile and took your hand in his, stopping in front of the doors to the precinct. He searched your face for a moment.


"Detective, may I ask you a personal question?"


"Sure, Connor. What's up?"


"What is your sexual orientation? I must admit I'm having difficulties discerning what you prefer." 

Your jaw dropped and you groaned a little. God, is it really that hard? 


"I'm a straight, single woman, Connor. I'm into men. Am I really that butch?"

He looked genuinely scared for a moment as he tried to clarify. 


"No, Detective! That's not what I meant--!" His LED flickered from red to yellow. "I wasn't sure if--!"


"Oof. I must be really unnatractive if you couldn't tell what I was." You clutched at your heart, feigning heartbreak. You cracked a smile, ready to head inside.


"That--Is the exact opposite of what I was getting at." Connor blocked your path, holding you still by grabbing your bicep. He stepped so close that you could feel the heat emanating from his core. "I think you're beautiful. I was merely asking because I didn't want to come on to you if you were already taken. That would have been detrimental to our relationship."

You stood there speechless for a moment, staring at the sex machine that just called you beautiful. He backpedaled and straightened his tie, as though trying to collect himself.


"Detective, I find you to be intoxicating..." Noting your breathless silence, he lowered his voice slightly. "I was afraid I was misreading your reactions. I wasn't sure if it was me, or someone else in the vicinity. You do find me attractive, do you not?" His eyes darted to your lips. "Your heart rate elevates when I speak to you. When I'm near. Your pupils dilate considerably."

Connor brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, still tentative. You felt like a rabbit caught in the clutches of a wolf, simply waiting for him to devour you.


"I can pleasure you in ways you've only imagined." His voice was a breathy whisper, his touch feather-light as his fingers danced near your jugular. "I want to hear you scream my name..." 

Oh, you were definitely ready to comply. Your heart skittered in your chest, anticipation sending heat between your thighs.


"Is everything alright, Detective?" 

Your eyes shot up behind Connor to see Chris holding the front door open. He smirked when he saw your horrified expression. 


"Everything's--fine, Miller. I have the situation under control." You don't know how you managed to make your voice squeak out a response, but you did. 

Chris eyed you up and down knowingly. 


"Really? Because you look absolutely terrified."

Your mind flashed back to one particularly embarrassing drunk conversation, where you'd nicknamed Connor Detective Swoon Bot. He quirked his mouth into a suggestive grin, as though remembering that exact moment.


"No, I'm not! Jesus, Chris, get off my back!" You clenched and unclenched your fists, your heart stammering in response to Connor's proximity. Figures that he has no sense of personal space. 

Chris cheekily shut the doors, giving you an exaggerated eyebrow waggle before leaving you alone. Connor returned his attention to you, focusing on your face as your heart stuttered.  


The bastard had a soft smirk on his face, "I am one of the most advanced models Cyberlife has ever created. If you're concerned about my ability to satisfy your needs, I'll have you know that I happen to be equipped with all of the necessary knowledge and parts to please you significantly."

Damn. He just dove right in. 

You shook your head in an attempt to clear it. You tried to come off as suave, but he had you more hot and bothered than you cared to admit. 


"I can be pretty demanding, RK800." You let the promise hang in the air as his eyes lit up. 


"You'll find that I don't tire. I can match whatever you need, Detective." 

You checked your watch. It was almost 3:00. You ground your thighs together and made a snap decision. 


"Fuck. Alright. I can't take it anymore. Connor, meet me in the locker room in five minutes." 

He offered you a sexy smile that almost caused you to unravel right there on the sidewalk. 


"Detective, it would be my absolute pleasure." 



Chapter Text

You tapped your foot impatiently on the sidewalk, sitting on a bench outside of the precinct. Your face burned in shame. 

Here you were, all dressed up in a cute skirt and heels, and Jason didn't even have the decency to tell you that he wouldn't make it. You were being stood up. 

How was it that you always managed to attract guys that were such complete scumbags? You checked your phone. Yeah, two hours late. He wasn't coming. You growled softly in frustration. Great. You didn't have your car keys with you, because you'd planned on having him drive you. A few tears ran silently down your cheek. Why did you have such bad luck?

You laid your head in your hands, letting the emotions wash over you. You'd been single practically your whole life. You'd had only two almost-boyfriends, both of which crashed and burned right away. Everyone else either couldn't catch your interest, or you couldn't catch theirs. You gasped for air, your sides shaking as you struggled to find breath.



You didn't have to look up. You knew that voice anywhere. Connor sat beside you, his arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders. You let yourself be held by the soft-spoken police android, your tears falling onto his pristine suit jacket. 


"Detective, what happened?" 

His frame was warm and comforting, offering the solace you so desperately needed. Connor waited patiently for your breathing to even out a little before you attempted to answer.


"I had a date. He never showed up." Your breath shuddered with a new bout of crying, and you hugged Connor tighter. "Why doesn't anyone want me?"

He didn't answer right away, his hands running themselves over your skin reassuringly.


"They didn't deserve you." His arms tightened around your fragile form, sheilding you from the world. 

You thought you caught him whisper something, but you couldn't understand what he said. Connor simply held you while you cried yourself out. 

Any other day you would've been angry. You would've called Jason and chewed him out. But not today. 

You shifted against Connor, your breathing finally even and calm. He stroked your arm reassuringly before moving so he could look at you. 


"Are you going to be okay?"


"Yeah." You pressed your lips together. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. "I just need some food. I'll be fine."

He hummed, unconvinced. His hand cupped your chin as he inspected you, watching your reaction. You weren't going to cry any more, not tonight. Seemingly satisfied, Connor let his hand fall down to rest on your shoulder.


"Well, seeing as how you don't have any plans..." Connor offered you a soft smile. "Care to join me for dinner?" 




"Please. I want to." He studied you, his expression thoughtful. "You got all dressed up for that asshole, you were supposed to have a fun night out. I don't want you to have to suffer alone right now." 

He pulled you to your feet and gently swiped his thumbs beneath your eyes, drying the rest of your tears. 


"And... I think you look beautiful." 

You snorted. 


"Now I know you're just buttering me up." You sighed in resignation. "Fine. Lead the way, RoboCop." 

His face broke into a smile and he took your hand in his. 


"What do you feel like?"


"We were supposed to go to this French place on Main, but I'm not in the mood." You looked around thoughtfully. "How about Italian?"

Connor nodded. He whistled shrilly and a taxi rolled to a stop at the curb.


"Giovanni's it is."



You had to admit, something about Connor was intoxicating. Maybe it was his voice, or the way his eyes sparkled like whiskey in the candlelight--whatever the cause, you knew you were doomed. His laugh was so endearing, his demeanor so sweet; heck, he was any girl's dream. You found yourself blushing as he took your hand in his--something he'd done countless times since you'd known him--and yet he was sending electricity through your limbs at his touch. 


Oh no.

You tried to focus on something, anything other than the intoxicating android in front of you. 


"--Detective, are you quite alright? You gained a sudden pallor." Connor's thumb stroked the back of your hand absently, his eyes searching your face. 

You shook yourself from your thoughts. No, it didn't matter, you tried to tell yourself. It didn't matter that you were falling in love with Connor. Androids didn't feel love for humans, it would never happen. 

You met his eyes with a sad smile, simply basking in his masculine beauty. 


"I--I'm fine, Connor. I'm just tired." You quickly changed the subject. "So, who do you think murdered Williams?"

Connor took the bait. 


"Personally, if I had to guess, I would say his android did. We found at least three stashes of red ice in his house, so I would say he was a user and a dealer. We know he had an AX400 domestic android, and that he sent her back to Cyberlife for repairs. He claimed she was hit by a car, but the injuries did not match the damage that would've been done if that were the case." 

Connor bit his lip, deep in thought.


"He was found near the Canada border, so I'd say that he was trying to leave and found them as they were escaping. If he attacked her, Kara could have killed him to prevent her own destruction." 

You nodded. 


"I don't blame her. I hope they got away." 

Connor's eyebrows shot up as he regarded you with a slight smirk. 


"What? You want the deviant to escape the law?" His playful tone belied his statement.

You shrugged, sharing his smile. 


"Hey, all I'm saying is, I won't be losing any sleep over finding Todd Williams' killer. If you ask me, she did the world a public service." 

Connor feigned being scandalized, clutching at his tie. 


"Why, Detective! I never knew your morals were so--grey!" He chuckled at your expression and returned his attention to gently touching your hands. 


"I live in Detroit. Of course my morals are grey." Your eyes fell to your entwined hands. 

The waitress took your clear plate and left the two of you sitting waiting for the check. 


"Maybe a little darker than I thought." You didn't meet your companion's eyes as you played with his fingers. "Like... 'falling-in-love-with-your-partner' dark."

Connor's hands stilled and you shut your eyes, wishing you hadn't said anything. 


"Detective, please look at me." 

You peeked at him through your eyelashes, your face slowly beginning to flush. 

Connor's expression was full of tenderness. You once again marveled, perhaps for the hundredth time, at how beautiful and lifelike Cyberlife had made him. 


"Maybe both of our morals are darker than we previously thought." 

Your jaw dropped and you squeezed his fingers softly. 


"What? You didn't think this was mutual?" Connor laughed at your dumbfounded expression. "It would've been impossible for me to remain obilvious to your affections, Detective." 

You couldn't stop the smile creeping onto your face. Connor loved you back. 


"Would you like anything for dessert?" 

You glanced up at the waitress, a stupid smile still on your face. 


"Yes, please!" You ordered something chocolatey, giddy that you finally found someone who wanted you back. 



Chapter Text

You pulled your sleeves down over your wrists, avoiding Connor's eyes as you looked away. He stood in front of you in a stunned silence. 


"You--What happened?" Connor's voice was soft and laced with pain. 


"I got low. I hated myself and didn't see any way out. I tried to take my own life. It's a good thing Hank was around..." You took a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I understand if you don't want to be with someone who has this kind of baggage--"

Connor silenced you with a passionate kiss. You couldn't help it, you simply melted into him as he pulled you closer. 


"I promise, you will never feel that way again." Connor swiped his hands up and down your arms, his touch sending electricity through your nerves. 

You watched him with questioning eyes as he pulled you into the showers. His hands roved over your frame and his lips never left your skin. He kissed a trail from you ear down your collarbone, his caresses light and loving. 

Connor shut his eyes and sighed, just holding you close as you rested against the wall. 


"Connor, we can't do this at work! I told you, I'm fine now--"

Connor's eyes became angry as he pounded the tile next to your head. He grit his teeth, tears spilling over.


"No. You didn't have those when we met last summer. Which means that you hurt yourself when I wasn't around." He sobbed and wrapped his arms around you protectively. "I'm so sorry. I should have been there for you. I should have confessed my feelings before you had the chance to feel that way." 


"Baby, even if you had, there's no telling that I wouldn't have done it. When I cut myself, I was in a very dark place. But--" You added when you saw his face, "--I overcame it. After I got out of it, I recognised how happy I was that I didn't succeed in ending it. Because, lo and behold, a week after I got back to work, you showed up on my doorstep with a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates." 

You bit your lip as you watched Connor fight with himself. 


"Connor. You are the reason that I'm still alive. You may not have been the direct cause, but you are definitely one of the reasons that I get out of bed in the morning." You gave him a cheeky smile. "Of course, Sumo is, too, but--"

He pressed his lips to yours once more, his caress gentle and hesitant. 


"I love you, Detective." 

You beamed up at him. 


"I love you, too, Connor." 

His expression became a little naughty as he glanced around. 


"You know..." Connor eyed you, pinned against the tile wall. "We have a little time before Fowler wants to see us in his office." 

You quirked your eyebrow in response, suddenly very aware of the need that he was pressing against your abdomen. Your eyes darted down to the tent in his pants, smirking slightly as you pondered whether or not you should help him out.


"Alright, but you have to make it quick. If he finds out what we--!"

You didn't even get to finish your thought as Connor started ripping off your clothing. He pressed himself against your slit, grinding against you and offering that sweet friction before undoing his own trousers. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively and you gasped for air, clutching his shoulders tightly as he pressed closer. Finally free, he pushed inside of you, fucking you against the wall with urgency. He grunted softly, ramming you into the tile roughly while never loosening his grip on your waist. 

Connor reached down between your legs, flicking at your clit erratically as he neared his own release. 


"Jesus, Connor!" Hank's voice echoed in the showers as you froze like a deer in headlights. Connor had no such qualms. Connor's hips never stuttered as he twisted back to look at his partner, not missing a beat. 


"Hello, Lieutenant. I would like to ask that you--ah!--give me a minute. I'll join you in Fowler's office soon." 

Hank made a disgusted grunt as he quickly looked away, his ears burning. You squeaked and, deciding he'd seen enough, Hank left the showers and slammed the door behind him. Connor grinned malevolently at you as he only fucked you harder. 


"I thought he'd never leave." 


"Fuck! Ugh, Connor, I don't think I'll ever be able to look Hank in the eye again..." You shuddered as he tilted his hips up slightly. Your legs tightened around his waist in response. 

Connor only laughed. 


"Good. Now I have you all to myself." 



Chapter Text

Connor glared at you from across the bullpen. He knew it was absolutely irrational of him, this feeling of discontent. He had decided to keep his feelings for you under wraps to see if they would go away; he was severely regretting his decision.

The android flicked his coin between his fingers at lightning speeds, trying to force himself to calm down. Bile rose in his throat as he watched Detective Reed tell you a joke about cats and dogs. 

Of course, it was entirely his own fault. He had casually rebutted your affections when he first met you. But, damn it--that wasn't when he was a deviant! Now that he could feel, he realised that he felt for you. Indeed, Fate was a cruel mistress. That much, he could discern. 

He nearly choked when Gavin snaked his fingers up and down your arm with feather-light caresses. 


"What do you say about going to see a remastered rerun of Deadpool with me this weekend, Detective?" Gavin's voice could be downright pleasant when he wanted it to be. You turned your startled face up to look at him, with his sickeningly saccharine expression enough to turn Connor's (nonexistent) stomach.


"Oh, I don't know, Gavin..." You looked around the department, stalling for time. If Connor didn't know any better, he could have sworn you glanced over in his direction to make sure he was watching your little exchange. 


"Come on! You said you're dying to see it, and I know you love the classic superhero movies... I figured we could get a nice dinner beforehand, and see what happened after."

You met his eyes, noting the lecherous intent he no doubt had. But, considering the look you'd seen on Connor's face, you had a feeling you would have some back-up if you needed it. You pretended to think about it and check your schedule (but lol let's face it, you had no plans in the first place) before nodding. 


"Alright. What showtime do you want to go to? I'd prefer something on Saturday."

Gavin beamed, a slightly disarming sight since he hardly ever smiled in the first place. He pointed two finger-guns at you, his charm-o-meter cranked up to 11. 


"I'll pick you up at 6, Sweet Cheeks!" He swaggered away, strutting like a peacock that was about to get laid. 

Connor's fingernails dug into the metal on his desk, leaving almost imperceptible marks in the surface. Hank rolled his eyes at the display, muttering to himself. 


"Fucking prick." 

Connor agreed with that sentiment whole-heartedly. 


You couldn't help but sneaking a glance back at a very preturbed Connor. He caught your eye and you smirked. You sent him a little flirty wave before getting back to work. Okay, so maybe it was reckless to give the game away so quickly, but you felt Connor deserved a taste of his own medicine. He had turned down your advances before deviancy, that much you knew. But after he broke through the wall, you started to recognize how he would sometimes lose his cool when you were involved. 

Perhaps it was selfish of you to string him along and to try to make him jealous, but by the time Connor had admitted he felt affection towards you, Detective Reed had already asked you out. So, maybe you wanted to make him squirm a little--it's not like you really even liked Reed, the guy was a chauvinistic ass--but at least you fully intended to give Connor what he wanted. Eventually. Maybe he would think twice about being so flippant with you. 

Yeah, Connor knew the second you waved at him that he'd fucked up. So it really wasn't an unintentional fling--you were trying to make him jealous. But--that had to mean you still had feelings for him. This lifted his spirits, if only a little. Well, if you wanted to play a game, so be it. Connor would be ready. He would entice you with every weapon he had in his arsenal. He would seduce you so thoroughly that you would be ruined for any other man, woman, or android under the sun. 

With his decision made, he began making preparations for your date on Saturday. Connor grinned malevolently to himself.

Oh, you'd be begging for him before the night was done. He'd make sure of that.


You caught Connor's smile from the corner of your eye, and you felt a twinge of panic. He was aware of how absolutely wrecked he could make you. You shuddered. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. But then--you noticed his LED spinning, and through his screen, you saw him scrolling through a tailor's website. Oh, fuck. Unfortunately, Connor was aware of how much you liked a man in a well-fitted suit.

You shook your head, trying to clear it. What the hell were you thinking?! This was great--it meant he was jealous, and he was going to try to seduce you away from Reed. It seemed that your plan was going to work, after all. 

You bit your lip as you pondered what you were going to wear. Now all that was left was to wait. 



You squirmed in your bedroom, afraid your get-up was too much. Would Reed get suspicious? You doubted it, the self-centered fuck would probably think you were smitten with him and not the android you were torturing. You eyed your attire one more time, assuring that everything was in place.

You were wearing Connor's favorite color. You'd overheard him talking to Hank about different hues, and Connor had concluded that he enjoyed blue because it was a nice, calm color. Your blouse was the color of the sky, a pretty thing that was simple but effective. A pleated black circular skirt ended just above your knees. A heavy leather jacket was draped over your shoulders, hopefully subduing the effect of the rest of your outfit. A pair of black pumps adorned your feet, completing the look. 

You fluffed your hair one more time, watching it fall loosely over your shoulders. You smiled softly to yourself. No one had seen you like this in a long time. Your hair was always tight up in a ponytail or a messy bun, considering the nature of your work. With one last smile and a quick fix of your eyeliner, you left your bedroom to wait for your 'date'--



Maybe: Gavin




 Hey there Sweet Cheeks, it's Gavin. Something's come up. I'll meet you at the restaurant. 


You rolled your eyes. Fine. You guessed Connor would already be there, since you strategically managed to ask for the details while he was within earshot. You supposed it would be better this way... Even if it meant you had to walk a block to the parking structure where your car was--in four-inch stilettos. 

Begrudgingly, you grabbed your purse off of the counter and tossed your keys in as well. Fine. You weren't pissed at all. If anything, this little setback strengthened your resolve to be irresistible. Connor was fifty times the man Gavin was. He was a complete jackass, that much was obvious...

Whatever. You made it to the parking structure with no incidents (though you may have caused yourself at least two new blisters) and arrived at the restaurant before Gavin. You sighed and waited at the front, scouting out the locale. 

A few forgettable faces here and there, an attractive blonde waiter, and a grandmotherly front hostess--

Your heart jumped into your throat. 

Oh, Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. Connor stood off to the side, chatting up a young-looking server android named Chloe. He looked far sexier than anything you'd ever seen. God Almighty, you were in trouble. His hair was combed and styled as it usually was, with that one unruly tuft of hair falling in front of his eyes.

He was wearing a very tight button-down white shirt beneath an unbuttoned dark grey suit jacket, with matching grey trousers and a pair of polished black Oxfords. Everything was perfectly tailored to his frame, hugging him in a way that made you slightly jealous of that suit. Your eyes were locked on Connor for who knew how long. Your thoughts had begun to drift to unmentionable places by the time that Gavin made his douche-y entrance. 


"Hey Babes! You didn't have to wait for me," He sent you a wink. "But I'm glad you did." 

His eyes raked up and down your frame as you snapped yourself out of your head, suddenly remembering what you were here to do. 


"Oh! Yeah, our table wasn't ready." 

At that moment, the hostess called your last name and the two of you allowed yourselves to be ushered to a table that was a dangerously close to Connor. He caught your eye with a knowing smirk before excusing himself from Chloe and finding his own seat out of Gavin's line of vision. Connor's table was slightly diagonal from your own, allowing you full view of him, while leaving Gavin completely in the dark. 


"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" You forced yourself to look at your current date. 

Gavin shot you an irritated look. 


"I said, you clean up nice, kiddo. A lot nicer than most of those schlubs at work give you credit for." He turned to the waitress and ordered a selection of wine before turning back to you. 


"Wait--the guys at work talk about me?" You raised an eyebrow suspiciously. 


"Well, duh. We talk about everyone. If it's got a cunt and a rack, you can better believe someone at the department has talked about imagining to fuck her." 

Your lip curled in disgust, but he seemed oblivious as he perused the menu. Your eyes drifted up to the RK800 behind him, almost wanting to ask for help. Almost. You gave it to the end of the second course, tops. 


"Jesus--I forgot my wallet at home. You mind picking up the tab, sweetheart?"

You grit your teeth in irritation, but nodded. 


"Great! I've been really craving a steak lately..." 

Scratch that. You didn't give it past the appetizers. 

You tried really hard, you swore you did--but Gavin Reed was just such an inconsiderate, insufferable ass that not even the sexiest face on earth could have made up for it. The longer you spent in his presence, the lower your IQ seemed to dwindle. When Gavin very blatantly checked out the waitress' ass, you had had enough. 

You finally caved and shot Connor a text. 






Okay. I give up. SOS.






Only if you say please.












As you wish ;)


Gavin's phone rang and he got up to answer it. As soon as he was out of sight, the two of you ducked out of the restaurant. Connor fixated you with a smug look, walking down the street like a man who just won the jackpot. 


"Did I tell you, or did I tell you?" He laughed. "Gavin is a prick." 

You rolled your eyes, removing your shoes. The two of you were walking up the staircase to your apartment, and you weren't going to make it if you kept them on. 


"Oh, brother. Okay, so it was a stupid plan--but it got your attention, didn't it?"

He turned back to look at you, sobering his expression. You were two feet away from your front door. He stopped in his tracks, pushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. 


"You've always had my attention."

His lips crashed into yours with such passion that you couldn't help the moan that escaped your throat. He swallowed the sound eagerly, his tongue darting out to dance with your own. He pinned you against your apartment door, his arms caging you against the wood. His lips traveled down your jaw to lovingly caress your neck. You indulged in his touch for only a few moments before recognising the need that was hardening against you. 

You suddenly twirled around and hastily unlocked your door. Connor quirked his eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes. 


"Please. You didn't seriously wear that suit thinking you were leaving here unfucked, did you?"

Judging from the dark chuckle he pressed against the back of your neck, that was exactly the case. You practically threw open your door before Connor was on you again, kicking it shut as he carried you to your bedroom. His touch sent electricity across every nerve ending. 


"Thank you for saving me," You sighed as he set you down on your bed gently. "I thought he was going to finger me right there in the middle of the restaurant!"

He snickered. 


"That's entirely possible, but... Maybe my intentions were never pure, either." Connor began removing his clothing with gusto. "Maybe the thought was running through my head, as well." 

Your eyes landed on his now bare form, glistening pale in the moonlight. The planes of muscle were enchanting to look at, but as your eyes drifted lower--

Holy fuck. Connor was pretty well-endowed. You glanced up at his face with wide eyes. 


"Um... Connor? I don't know if I can--"


"A woman's vulva is capable of stretching to accommodate a six- to nine-pound child. I think you'll be fine." His eyes glinted as he lowered his face down between your thighs. 

You remembered your executive decision to not wear underwear and suddenly felt heat rush to your face as he tsked with the same realization. 


"No underwear, baby? You must've been aching for me more than I thought." His voice sent chills down your spine and you whimpered. 

His tongue dipped into your folds and it took all of your willpower to not scream. 


Oh, yes. You could definitely get used to this.



Chapter Text

You couldn't hold back your laughter as you snickered at your phone screen. Connor tilted his head curiously, his eyes questioning as you glanced at him and only laughed harder. 


"What's so funny, Detective?" 

You struggled to regain your breath, a light flush dusting your cheeks as you grinned back at this sweet, innocent boi. 


"You are, Connor. You've hit the big time. You're a meme." 

Connor furrowed his brows, his LED spinning. 


"What--what is a 'meem'?" 

Hank groaned from his terminal. 


"Don't fucking tell him, Detective! The last thing I need is Connor armed with a bunch of bad puns and old Vines..." 

You smirked malevolently as Connor turned back to you, his interest obviously piqued. Anything to get on Hank's nerves was appreciated in Connor's book. You made a big show of getting up to grab a coffee and Connor followed you obediently. 

Once out of Hank's earshot, you giggled again and showed Connor your phone. He squinted at it, as though expecting something more to happen.


 Related image


"I do not understand, is this supposed to be humorous?"


"Wh--Of course it is! Don't you get it?"

Connor tilted his head curiously, eyeing you as though you'd grown a second head. 


"...No." He returned his attention to the screen, his brow furrowing. "How did they get those photos of me in the first place?" 


"Connor, you're famous. The Great Negotiator. Everyone knows about you, I'm surprised I didn't see this sooner. You've actually got quite a fanbase."


"Really?" He thought for a moment, his LED spinning as he attempted to access the internet and prove it to himself. "Oh, God..." 

You snickered again. 


"Did you go down the wrong internet rabbit hole?"

Connor's flushed cheeks suggested he'd found some rather NSFW stuff. 


"I--I'd rather not talk about it." He attempted to change the subject, his embarrassment evident on his cute face. "Apparently, Detective, 'memes' were popular in the 2010s."


"Eh, they never really died out. Someone always managed to do something stupid and go viral because of it." You flipped through a few more memes to show him examples of what they used to look like, compared to now.


"Animals, lots of animals..." Connor's LED flickered as he processed what constituted as a meme.


"Well, I mean, animals are pretty rad. And they're cuter than most humans. And their habits are funny as hell."  

Connor glanced back at you, one eyebrow raised. 




"You are strange, Detective." He offered you a dorky smirk as he turned back to your phone screen. "But that's okay. I like you that way." 



Chapter Text

This was not something you were used to seeing. It was supposed to be just another night at Jimmy's Bar--hanging out with Hank, Connor, and Chris, like you always did on Friday nights. But, of course, tonight had to be the night that Gavin Reed decided to tag along. What was going through that head of his? You had no idea, but it had to be full of cotton if he was really stupid enough to think he'd be welcomed with open arms. 

I mean, sure, Gavin had dialed down the Connor-targeted jackassery since the android revolution, but he was by no means friendly towards any of you. It was strange to think that he actually thought he would be immediately accepted. And yet, here you were. Stuck between a robot and a hard-on. (Kinda like a rock and a hard place, but way more literal.)


"Come on, Sweet Cheeks! I've been flirting with you for a while now, when are you going to stop playing hard to get?"

You curled your lip in disgust and tried to scoot closer to Connor. Apparently, Detective Reed's a horny drunk. You gripped Connor's arm, begging for help from the cavalry. It's not like you were completely helpless, but you knew better than to start swinging after you'd had a few drinks. (You didn't have the best balance in the world when you were tipsy.) Connor glanced at you, his eyes lingering as he noted the state Gavin was in, and swiveled on his barstool. Hank growled something about Connor being an ass and threw back another shot. 


"Detective Reed, she's not interested." Connor's other hand covered your own where it rested on his arm. "I suggest you get a taxi and go home." 

Gavin snarled in response, his breath reeking of Jameson. 


"Back off, RoboCop. No one cares what you think." 

Connor only squeezed your hand before changing places with you. He gave you a reassuring smile and sat next to Gav instead, leaving you in between Connor and Hank. Hank squinted at you, as though trying to piece together why you were sitting where his partner usually did. Hank shrugged and knocked back a sip of water to help cushion the copious amounts of alcohol he'd already consumed. You peeked from behind Connor's broad back, trying to make sense of what was being said. 


"--Reed, she's already rejected you twice tonight. Can't you just leave her alone?" Connor's voice was becoming agitated and cold. If Gavin kept it up, you suspected it would not end well.


"I don't have to do anything I don't wanna!" 


"If you're still in need of satisfaction, might I suggest Eden Club?" 

Ohhhh shiiiit. Connor might've gone too far. The look on Gavin's face was murderous. 


"What did you just say to me?"


"Eden Club contains the best escorts on the market. If you are that insistent on pursuing female company, I suggest their Eastern location."

The punch was quick and dirty. Gavin swung at Connor's face with a drunken vengeance, but was thwarted immediately as Connor caught his fist. Gavin sputtered in disbelief as Connor gave a precise blow that knocked him unconscious. 


"Jimmy? Would you please put Gavin's drinks on his tab? Thank you."

Connor hefted Gavin over his shoulder easily and carried him out of the bar. Chris leaned over to look at you, surprise and approval lighting up his eyes. 


"Damn. Looks like Con-Con got a little fed up." He sent you a knowing smirk before paying his own tab. "Thanks, Jimmy. I'll be seeing myself out." 

Connor returned alone, concern etched onto his face as he took a knee before you. 


"Detective, are you hurt?" He checked you over, worry seeping into his voice. 


"Only thing hurt is my pride. Thank you, Connor." You smiled and started to get up. 

Oooh, that was a mistake. The world began to spin and you stumbled into Connor. He caught you and helped you right yourself with an amused grunt. 


"I think my work is not yet done."

He sighed and told Hank he was fending for himself before scooping you up into his arms, bridal-style. You squirmed, your heart hammering in your chest as you tried to escape with little luck. 


"I can walk just fine, thank you!" Your voice was a little higher than you were comfortable with. "Really, I'm just a little tipsy--!"


"Detective, this is not an argument you will win. You obviously cannot see straight, let alone walk." 

You giggled to yourself as you watched Connor's hair move in the Detroit breeze. 


"Connor, all I can see is straight. And I am very, very happy with what I see."

Connor's eyebrow quirked as he wondered what you meant. His LED spun for a moment before turning red as your meaning dawned on him. 


"Listen, Detective--I don't think you really mean that. Your inhibitions have been removed, and I doubt you really see me that way." 


"Pfft--Connor, shut up. You're a walking, talking robot-ball of sex appeal. Don't be shy about it." You poked his cheek playfully. "If Sober Me was a little bolder, I would've tried fucking you a long time ago."

Connor glanced down at you before setting you on your feet in front of your apartment door.


"You don't mean that." His ears were turning a light blue.

He avoided your eyes as he unlocked your door and picked you back up. His voice sounded sad, as though he thought he was imagining it or something. You rolled your eyes.


"Connor, you know I don't say shit I don't mean. I've probably been in love with you ever since you saved Hank instead of chasing that deviant."

Connor carried you through your apartment and set you down on your bed gently. He turned to leave, blush definitely dusting his cheeks now. 


"What, aren't you going to help me get ready for bed?" You wiggled your eyebrows at him when he spun to look at you. "After all, I'm so drunk right now that if I do it myself I might hit my head on my shelf and die. You don't want me to die, do you, Connor?"

He hovered in your doorway, indecision flickering on his face. 


"...No," He answered hesitantly. "I don't want you to die. But also I don't want you to have any regrets. I enjoy our time together, I like working with you, and I don't want to jeapordize that with my own selfishness." 


"Pfft, okay--Connor, do you like-like me or not?" 

He blushed and looked at the floor. 


"Maybe. What would you say if I did?"


"I'd say, I dare you to hurry up, get over here and fuck me already, Connor!"

It was as though someone had fired a starting pistol. Before you could blink, Connor was on you, his lips ghosting over your skin in the most decadent way possible. It was everything you'd hoped it would be and more. His hands ran themselves up and down your sides softly, tracing the shape of your muscles and the ribs beneath. 

As delicious as he felt, you wondered if he would go any farther. Hey, feeling him ravish your mouth was fucking heaven--you'd been dreaming about it for over a year, for God's sake--but you hoped he would go the distance. 

Maybe he needs encouragement. You moaned softly under his touch and began grabbing at his clothing. Connor pulled away just enough to look you in the eye. 


"Baby, trust me when I say I have every intention of letting you know you're mine. But I'm going to wait until you can lucidly experience every second of it." 

You whined in response, rubbing your thighs together harriedly. He noticed your dilemma and chuckled darkly, his voice laced with lust. 


"So ready for me? Soon, baby." Connor kissed your neck softly, his fingertips digging into your hips. "Don't worry. I won't leave you unsatisfied."

He played with the waistband of your pants, slipping his hand down the front of you. He played with you, his fingers skillfully finding all of the right spots to send electricity down your spine. Connor's lips never left your skin. He sent you so close to spiralling over the edge, his touch practiced and wonderful and--

He removed his hand with a satisfied grin. You shivered as the shocks rippled through your system. It was almost better than anything you'd felt previously. You weren't a virgin, but you'd never experienced anything that was worth writing home about. 

Connor ripped your remaining clothing off and dove his tongue into your folds without warning. He laughed into your core as your hips lifted of their own accord. A skilled silver tongue fit for the devil. He lapped at you, sucking on your clit with enthusiasm that you'd never seen Connor exhibit in any other setting. The sight of his face between your thighs had you seeing stars in no time.

Connor easily swallowed the evidence and aftermath of your orgasm, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he crawled on top of you. He rested on all fours, his hair touseled in the best possible way. 


"Hank's never getting you back now." 


"He'll get over it pretty quickly, I think." Connor smirked down at you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. "It's Chris I'm more worried about. He's been teasing me about my feelings for you ever since he found out." 


"Wait, what?"  Your face became beet red. "Oh, God... He's getting an earful tomorrow, I assure you." 




"Apparently, he knew you liked me and he didn't tell me." You barked out a quick laugh. "Oh, yeah, he's in trouble." 


"Well, maybe I can take your mind off of it..." Connor's grin became predatory as he pressed closer. "If I have any say in how tonight goes, you won't remember any name other than mine." 



Chapter Text

Everything seemed to be going my way. My shitty ex finally signed the divorce papers; my parents were willing to call off the anniversary dinner; I was in line for a promotion at work; and I was in love with an android.

I grinned at Connor, who was sitting across from me in a restaurant near the precinct. Chris sat next to me, and Hank was next to Connor. It was Friday night, I was buzzed, and feeling on top of the world. 


"Hey, Connor--Truth or Dare?"

Chris groaned and elbowed me in the side. Hank rolled his eyes and took a swig of his margarita. 


"You don't have to do this, Connor--!" Hank grumbled.


Connor sighed in exasperation and rested his chin on his palm, his elbow on the edge of the table as he eyed me cheekily. "Truth." 

I waggled my eyebrows at him, the alcohol getting to my brain. Inhibitions? Never heard of her.


"Do you want to kiss me?"

Connor blushed furiously and quickly tried to change the subject. 



I leaned in, the smile on my face mischievous and hazardous to his health.


"Okay. I dare you to kiss me."

I didn't even know androids could sweat, but Connor was sweating bullets. Connor looked at everything but me. 


"Never have I ever--!"


"Hey, that's not the game!" Chris guffawed. "Damn, you just got hella rejected, kiddo!" 

My cheeks flushed and I felt all eyes on me. Shit. Why did I think it would turn out well? That only happened in stories... And apparently, I wasn't even the main character of my own. Connor avoided my gaze, his own face showing signs of blue blush. 


"Hey, it's okay. I think Connor must be ace or something to not want you, kid." Hank snorted into his glass. "I mean, he is an android, after all."


"Detective, may I see you outside for a moment?" Connor turned apologetic eyes to me, and I rose wordlessly without checking to see if he was following. 

I cradled my arms against myself, the cold biting into my skin. It was the beginning of spring, but winter still maintained its icy grip over Detroit. Connor stood beside me, his face crestfallen as I remained silent. 


"Please say something." His voice sounded so saddened, it took all of my willpower to ignore him. "I'm sorry." 


"Sorry?" I scoffed, trying to hide the tears that were forming in my eyes. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about, Connor. I'm the one who made a fool of myself for confessing the feelings I've held for you since the beginning. I should've just kept my fucking mouth shut." 


"I never wanted to hurt you," Connor murmured. He reached out hesitantly, his arms trying to wrap around me in a hug. 

God, it was so unfair. The tears came quickly, and I couldn't make them stop. I pushed Connor away, my makeup running as I glared daggers at him. 


"You know what, Connor? Fuck you. Fuck you for making me feel this way. I never wanted to love you! I had my whole fucking life planned out, I was gonna get married and have kids and a dog and a white picket fence--and then you came along and made me question everything!" 

My breath was coming in ragged bursts, now. I couldn't control myself as I sank to my knees, sobbing. 


"Don't think I didn't try to ignore my feelings, either. I tried to forget DPD's famous Negotiator. But you just couldn't leave me alone, could you?" I peeked up to see him kneeling in front of me, his eyes full of sorrow, regret, guilt. "I hate you for making me love you." 

He said nothing, only stared at me with those soulful eyes of his. He removed his suit jacket and draped it around my shivering shoulders, his mouth hardening into a determined line. 


"Detective, if there's one thing you should never regret, it's loving someone." He fought with himself, his eyes glassing over as fresh tears of his own peppered the snow. "Ever since I became deviant, all I've known is fear. Fear of the unknown, of being alone, of the future... But when I'm with you, I'm not as afraid anymore." 

His eyes searched my face, a solemn silence gripping us as he watched me. 


"I don't know what love is. But if I had to say what I see when I imagine it, it's you." 

My tears overflowed, soaking my face and his jacket as I fell forward onto all fours. Quaking breaths wracked my frame as I struggled to gather myself. Connor surged forth and pulled me onto his lap and into his arms, holding me close as I cried. 


"If I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I will. I promise, you will never feel unloved again."


"Connor--don't do this if it's not what you feel. The last thing I want is to force you into this because you think I'm too broken without you." 

He pulled back to look in my face, resolve marking his features. 


"I'm doing this because I know I'm not strong enough to watch you hurt yourself over something I've done." 

With a tentative sigh, he pressed his lips to my temple.


"Deviants choose new objectives for themselves. The break through their programming to find new goals, new dreams." He shuddered against me, his eyes sparking with intensity. "You, Detective, were mine." 



Chapter Text

You wrung your hands, hesitation gnawing at your gut. Should you really try? Valentine's Day was right around the corner, and there was only one person you wanted to spend it with. 

Well, 'person' was a loose descriptor. Your eyes darted up to see the object of your affection leaning over your desk, his elbow awkwardly resting next to yours. The RK800 sighed softly, his cheeks turning a light blue as Thirium rushed to his face. 


"Good morning, Detective. You're looking lovely this morning." He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. "Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day?"


"No. Actually, that's what I was going to ask you about, Connor." 

He coughed to hide the small sound of shock that escaped him. 


"Oh--really?" Connor shifted nervously. "I was going to spend it alone. Hank's going to visit his ex-wife." 


"Well, you're welcome to come over to my place. We can watch stupid rom-coms all night and wallow in our own self-pity." You offered him one of your signature shit-eating grins. "Saves me from any advances from unsavory characters, too. So, it's a win-win." 

Connor's gaze involuntarily darted back to look at Gavin before he met your eyes again. 


"What are you doing, Detective? I just realized I was interrupting you. What were you writing, just now?"

Suddenly coming back into yourself, you subtly began to hide the piece of paper in question.


"Oh, it's nothing. Just my personal notes for that Ramirez case." 


"If it's pertinent information, I think I should be included." 


"It's really not pertinent, I simply enjoy organizing my thoughts in a way that I can see them on paper." 

You were starting to sweat. If Connor saw what you'd been writing, you would probably die of a embarrassment and then a heart attack. You slipped the note into your jacket pocket, hoping Connor didn't notice. 

Unfortunately for you, he most definitely did. He nodded slightly. 


"I can understand needing to see everything in one place. It helps the mind discern the next course of action." Connor shifted uneasily. "Well, I shall see you on Friday, Detective. I'll just come home with you after our shift ends, okay?" 

You nodded briskly and he left with a lingering backwards glance. 

Jesus, how am I going to survive? Connor wrecks me every time... You rubbed your temples in irritation at your own girlish tendencies. Connor wasn't just some crush, but you couldn't help yourself when it came to all of the things you wanted to do to him. (And with him. And near him...)




 You stood at the edge of the bullpen, your eyes roving the remaining officers on duty. Connor promised he would meet you outside the bullpen, but he'd disappeared into the evidence locker about an hour ago. It was getting late, far later than you wanted to stay at work on a Friday. At 6:00, you caved in to the pressure and called him. 


"Hey, Connor? I'm waiting outside, are you ready to go?"


"Yes, I'll be up in a moment." He hung up abruptly and you caught sight of him racing towards you. 

His smile melted your fears and you took his hand in your own, leading him out into the twilight. 


"Thought I forgot about you?" He teased. 


"Maybe," You relented. "I know androids can't forget, but maybe I'm just insecure like that." 

You walked all the way to your apartment, enjoying the cool night air. 


"What's on the menu for tonight?" 


"I thought we'd start with the classics--The Proposal, 50 First Dates, 13 Going On 30--and see how we're feeling after that. Maybe something a little campier, like Weird Science or Earth Girls Are Easy."

Connor smirked. 


"I can't wait to get started." 

You unlocked your front door and tossed your keys and your coat on the inside table before running to the kitchen. You popped the popcorn with a satisfied expression on your face. You were focusing so intently on your snacks that you didn't notice the sheet of paper that had floated down from your pocket. Nor did you notice the RK800 that stooped down to pick it up. 

His eyes scanned the top of the folded paper with his name on it, his LED flashing as he recognised it as the note you'd hidden from him yesterday. Curiosity won out, and his eyes widened in shock as he took in your neat cursive writing. 




Roses are red, violets are blue, hop in my pants like a kangaroo.

Apples are red, pears are green, I'll make it rough, I'll make you scream. 

Couches are rad, beds are better, with you around I can't help but get wetter and wetter. 

I find it is getting harder, to avoid my thoughts of fucking you with ardor, I want to bypass "co-worker" and become your lifelong partner. 



You glanced up to see Connor frozen in your entryway, his LED flashing red as his systems threatened to shut down. You squeaked and tried to see what was wrong, only to find--

Shit shit shit shit shit shiiiiiiit-- 

Your note was suspended in his fingers. His cheeks were so blue you thought he could pass as a popcicle. 


"Connor! Shit, you weren't supposed to read that! Fuck--Oh, fuck me..." Your own face flushed and you shot away from him as though you'd been burned.

You locked yourself in your room, wanting nothing more than to just die right then and there. You heard shuffling footsteps and a knock before a soft sigh. 




"Please, I never intended for you to see that. Please forget you ever saw that." 

Connor chuckled darkly on the other side of your door. 


"Androids cannot forget, Detective." His voice shuddered with his next words. "And maybe I don't want to."

Your head snapped up. You'd never even considered that he might feel the same way. You tentatively opened your door a crack to peek out into the hallway. The second you opened it, Connor was on you, his lips gracing your skin in the most delectable way. 


"Will you be my Valentine, Detective?"

A gasp escaped your throat as you clung to his frame, holding on for dear life as he crashed into you. 


"I thought you'd never ask." 


Chapter Text

Hank shifted in his seat, eyeing the two of you as you conversed over trivial matters. He rolled his eyes. You two were totally into each other, but Connor was oblivious, and you were never going to make the first move if you could help it. 

Hank almost wanted to laugh at how cliché it was. If it wasn't so damned sad, that is. He spun in his office chair to watch the two of you more discreetly. Hank bared his teeth in determination. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to make the two of you admit you had feelings for each other and just fucking get over it already. It was more painful watching you tiptoe around each other than couple's PDA would ever be. 

Connor sat down at his desk, his eyes on your form as you returned to your own workstation. 

Method One: Teasing

Hank grinned and Connor blushed at being caught staring. 


"You like her, don't you?"

Hank's smile widened at Connor's harried excuses. 


"I--I admire her--I uh, I admire her work ethic. She's a much better detective than most of the department gives her credit for." 


"Bullshit, Connor. You've got the hots for our partner. I never would've pegged you to be into the strong, independent, badass type." He snickered to himself as Connor attempted to hide behind his hands. 


"It's not that," Connor muttered. "It was her unconditional kindness and curiosity for life that got my attention." 

Hank paused. He'd never seen Connor sound so defeated. The closest example was when he was first struggling to come to grips with his deviancy; but even then, he never sounded so resigned to his fate. Hank rolled his chair closer so that they wouldn't be easily overheard. 


"Connor, look at me." Hank waited for him to comply before continuing. "There's nothing wrong with catching feelings. It just means you're becoming more human."

Connor just sank further into his chair, misery etched on his boyish face. Hank sighed in irritation. 


"Son, just go talk to her! Ask her out on a date, for fucks' sake! If you don't, you'll never know if she felt the same or not." 


"I don't want to ruin the relationship I have with her now. If I admit how I feel and she doesn't see me the same way, I would have a heart attack and die of embarrassment."

Hank grunted. This would be harder than he originally thought. 

Method Two: Meddling

With an exasperated sigh, Hank rose from his desk to get some coffee. He waited in the break room with his trademark frown plastered firmly in place, his sure-fire method of keeping unwanted small talk at bay. 

Unfortunately, his fuck-off-frown had never worked on you.


"Good morning, Hank!" You smiled brightly at him. "How would you like your coffee?"


"The same as always, Detective." He glanced behind you to see a very pale Connor looking on. With a smirk, Hank returned his attention to you. "So--when are you going to ask Connor out?"

You nearly choked on your tea. Your horrified eyes landed on Hank, who was grinning like a smug bastard.


"Hank!" Your gaze darted around frantically, hoping no one else had heard. "First of all, how the fuck did you know--?"


"I may be old, but I'm not blind." Hank crossed his arms over his chest, fixing you with one of his signature glares. "You two are driving me crazy, fucking making goo-goo eyes at each other when you're not looking. Jesus, it's exhausting watching you two."

Your cheeks burned and you hid your face behind your mug. You sped back to your desk with barely a backwards glance. 

Fuck. Hank growled into his coffee, frustration eating away at his morning cheer. Stinking kids were too stubborn. There was only one thing left he could think to do. 

Method Three: The Set-Up

Okay, so maybe it wasn't the best time to bring it up, since the three of you were at a crime scene. But Hank hadn't been able to get the two of you together in one room for longer than five seconds. He had started to wonder if, maybe, just maybe, you'd caught on to his schemes. Either way, you couldn't escape him forever. 


"Hey, Connor--are you free on Friday? Like around 8pm on Friday?"

Connor narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but continued his analysis of the evidence. 




"What about you, Detective?" Hank turned to you, and you immediately smelled a rat.

With clenched fists, you eyed Hank, trying to figure out his game. 


"...Yes, I am."


"Great! Because I'm not. You two go on without me. Enjoy your date!" Without another word or glance, Hank slipped out of the house you were in. 


"...Did he just--" Connor's LED spun yellow, his processors struggling to understand what just happened. "--set us up?"


"Yes, I believe he did." You shook yourself out of your daze, turning to Connor. "You don't have to if you don't want to, Connor. I understand if you have stuff you'd rather do." 



Hank tapped his foot angrily, a new crime scene unfolding and both you and Connor were late. You, he would understand, but Connor, too? He knew it was a Saturday, but for the love of God--

You stumbled into work, your face flushed and hair disheveled. Connor was only slightly better, with one shoe in his hand as he tried to put it on while standing up. You struggled to straighten your clothing, finally meeting Hank's questioning stare. 


"I'm so sorry I'm late! I got caught up doing--stuff," You excused lamely. 

Connor grinned brightly, his hair also a little tousled. 


"I'm stuff."

Hank ran a hand down his face, a long-suffering sigh escaping him. 


"I'm getting too old for this shit."



Chapter Text

It was the dead of summer, the hottest time of the year. Detroit was not a friendly city in the heat. You'd found this out the hard way after moving there for work with the police department. You hadn't believed Hank when he said that you wouldn't last a day in the heat. He was very right. 

Now, here you were, sweating up a storm while trying to let Connor rest. 


"God, it's so hot," you groaned. "How do you stand the heat?"


"I usually turn my temperature sensors down, but if I begin to overheat, I take a cold shower." 


"Jesus. If only our cold water wasn't on the fritz." 

It was unbearable, this constant humidity in your apartment complex. The stupid manager refused to fix the air conditioning, no matter how many complaints of heat stroke he got over the years. 


"Connor, I swear to God--if we survive this, I'm having you threaten the super. He's gotta fix the damn AC or else."


"If it's causing you discomfort, I will visit him first thing in the morning. Please, try to get some rest." 


"I can't. God, I'm not used to this. I came from Washington State, you know. We didn't used to have such bad summers. There was a time when we had nice, temperate summers and freezing winters. That's my desired climate. I enjoy cold weather more than anything." 

Connor smirked beside you. 


"Even more than when I eat you out?"


"Oof. Right now, I'd say it's a close second. I love you and your magical sexual prowess, Connor, but for the love of all that is holy I am dying over here."


"That's a shame." 


"Ugh. Can you get me a glass of water?"

Connor rose from your bed, his pale back glinting in the moonlight as he disappeared into your kitchen. He returned with a tall glass clinking with ice in it, a soft smile on his face. You sat up and chugged the water greedily, leaving about an inch of ice at the bottom. 


"Thanks, babe." You groaned in frustration. "If it wasn't so hot, I'd hug you right now. Maybe give you a handjob if you were in the mood." 

Connor rolled his eyes and fell back onto your mattress, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. 


"Hey, Connor? Do you think this is how the polar bears felt before they died?"

He didn't respond. 


"Jesus, I feel like I'm melting here. How is it so fucking hot in the middle of the night?!"

Without warning, Connor was on top of you, his expression dangerously smug. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding against your ribcage.


"I have an early morning tomorrow, Detective. If you don't stop going on about how hot it is, I'm going to give you a reason to feel hot."



Chapter Text

Your whole unit was milling around the lobby of the course, excitement in the air. Hank tried to call for quiet, but no one would listen. He gave you an exasperated look and you nodded.


"HEY! SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Your voice sent the crew into a stunned silence.


"Thank you, Detective." Hank rolled his eyes. "Okay, guys. You know the drill. No cheap shots, use only your institution-issued guns, and every man for himself. Last man standing wins bragging rights for all eternity--or until the next session." 

The congregation cheered and started filing into the arena. Connor sidled up next to you, his expression a little smug. 


"Good luck, Detective."


"Yeah, yeah, get ready to fucking lose, Connor," You snickered, rolling your shoulders to loosen up. "I haven't lost a single round of laser tag in all my years at the DPD in Hank's unit. You're going down, RoboCop." 

Connor only smiled. 


"Yes. Well, we will see who's the better shot, won't we?" He winked at you as your group began entering the arena. "I'll be watching you." 

You huffed and straightened your vest, surging forward with your coworkers into the darkness. 


It was pitch black, with the only light coming from the neon tubing outlining the course. The warning bell sounded, letting you know that you had thirty seconds until the game started. You silently observed a group of your friends chattering loudly about last weekend's football game or whatever. 

There was a reason you always won. You kept to yourself and watched from the shadows, waiting until the exact moment when they were vulnerable and then--

Yes, you were quite good at this game. You backed yourself into a corner where you could see everything, listening to the countdown. 15, 14, 13, 12... You breathed in deeply, relaxing yourself. You were in your element. You knew this course better than even Hank. It was where you thrived. Nothing could possibly distract you from your goal. 

The buzzer sounded, alerting you to the start of the game. Your vest chirped and came to life, a soft purple glow emanating from the neon piping laced into it. It wasn't a personal preference; purple was the least noticeable of all of the vest colors. Your rifle chirped and began to charge, a timer ticking from within its innner workings. Loaded and ready to go, you dove into the fray. 


This was it. There were only a few people left. You, someone named Jennifer Stevens, Gavin Reed, Hank, and Connor. You were surprised that Connor had lasted this long into his first game. You weren't stupid enough to seek him out, though. He was a deadly shot, and you knew better than to underestimate him. 

You easily snuck up on Gavin, taking him out with two precise shots to the back and one to the chest. He growled at you as he left the arena, spitting insults and flipping you the bird. Always the sore loser. You smirked, twirling your rifle. You'd only gotten hit once in the whole game. That had to be a new record for you. Practice makes perfect, after all

You heard Stevens shoot Hank somewhere to the south of the course. Hank was too much of a tank, guns a-blazing; he never used any finesse. You crept through the arena, ears perked and ready to detect any new attackers. 

Everything was going great until you saw Connor. He moved with the grace of an angel--an angel of death. His eyes locked on you and you froze like a deer in headlights. He moved towards you with such determination, you almost forgot you were supposed to have shot him already. Connor was on you before you could blink or speak, his lips crashing into yours with a passion you'd never seen before. His mouth danced on yours, a small sound escaping his throat as he tasted you.

You tried to regain your senses unsuccessfully, your skin buzzing with the feeling of him pressing you into a corner. Something hard pressed against your stomach and it took you far too long to realize that it wasn't his dick, but rather--

The laser gun that he fired in rapid succession right into your core. 

And just like that, Connor was gone. You caught sight of him disappearing towards the sole survivor before you fell onto your ass. Holy shit that boy can kiss. 

You shook your head in an effort to clear it. Connor just beat you, at your own game, on his first try. You left the arena with flushed cheeks and a fury fit to match the god of war.


"Holy shit, did someone dethrone her?"


"I didn't think that was even possible." 


"If she didn't win, who did?"

You gritted your teeth against the whispers you could hear as you passed. You turned in your gear with a scowl. 


"I'm sorry, Detective, but the best shot won." Connor turned in his gear next to you, his smile causing your heart to flutter. 

In rage. 


"You dirty, fucking cheater," You growled. "How dare you exploit my feelings like that! You don't even feel the same way about me and you somehow get off using it against me? You know I'm fucking powerless against you--!"


"Who says I don't feel the same way?" 

Somehow, Connor managed to pin you against another wall. Shit, not again. 


"You did, Connor. You told me from your own mouth that you don't have romantic feelings for me." 

His brow furrowed. 


"I did no such thing." He turned slightly to look over his shoulder at his evil twin, the RK900 that had been repurposed to work at the DPD. "I think I'd better have a word with Conan later about his cosmetic choices."

He returned his attention to you, still fuming. 


"I'm sorry, you were saying?"


"You're a rotten bastard for doing that. I would've won if you hadn't cheated." You crossed your arms over your chest.

Damn, he was making it hard to think with his body so close to you.


"I'm sorry you feel that way, Detective. I was hoping you'd let me make up for it." He rested his forehead against the wall behind you, his heat seeping into your neck. "I had a whole evening planned, and everything..." 


"Ugh, fight me." You pushed him back a little, anger still shining in your eyes. Despite the anger boiling in your skin, you had to admit that Connor was already making you wet. 

He smirked, sending your pulse skyrocketing. 


"I'm starting to think you just like me pinning you up against things, darling," He cooed. "Not that I mind. You're sexy when you're mad." 

Oh, shit. Yep, that did it. You stuttered and tried to make a snappy comeback, but couldn't think of anything to say. His proximity had your senses on overdrive. Connor had just called you sexy. You glanced around frantically, noticing that there were a lot of eyes on you. 


"Connor--not here..." You practically moaned, your skin burning at his touch. "Not while everyone's watching!"

He chuckled darkly, sweeping you into his arms with ease. 


"Then let's get the hell out of Dodge." 



Chapter Text

It was the middle of the night. Connor was still in your bed, on standby mode. You were busy getting ready for a conference call, your eyes barely open as you struggled to pull on your suit. Jesus, why did Corporate have to give me all of the international calls? It's not like I'm the kinda person who can function without sleep. You muttered to yourself under your breath, mentally cursing out your boss. 

You'd been with Cyberlife for a few years now. Hank hadn't been happy about his only daughter choosing to work with them, but you made really good money. You'd started dating Connor about a year into his deviancy, and damn, even you couldn't have predicted how amazing it was.

You shook yourself from your thoughts and sat before the screen, waiting expectantly for the ring. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt Connor press his fingers against your slit. 


"Jesus! Connor, what are you doing? I'm expecting a report from Conan any second now--!"

He chuckled darkly, teasing your entrance with his fingertips. 


"It's your own fault for not getting fully dressed." He knelt beside you, kissing trails up and down the outside of your right thigh. 

You shuddered, trying to keep a straight face as your screen chimed at you. You swatted him away and answered it, flush creeping up your cheeks as you struggled to appear professional and cold. 


"RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 reporting in." Conan demurred. 

He was an almost spitting image of your Connor, with a few minute differences. His voice was often much softer and colder, to match his grey eyes. He was, in general, much more stiff and aloof in all matters concerning others. He never left the police department unless he was sent on a mission, like now. 


"Call received, RK900. Please proceed." You sighed in relief at knowing you didn't have to speak anymore. Now all that was left for you was to not look like a complete madwoman for the duration of his call. 

Connor, it seemed, had made it his mission to cause you to fail in doing just that. 

His hands slid up your legs to toy with your panties, his dark eyes sparkling with intelligence. Unfortunately for you, he knew exactly how to make you come undone in the most delicious way. Connor's fingers circled the sensitive area at the apex of your thighs, and it took all of your willpower to not glare at him and swat his hand away. 


"I've made little progress with the informant. He seems to refuse to trust me. I find this disturbing, considering the fact that I was designed to integrate harmoniously with all humans." Conan's LED flickered yellow before returning to a dormant blue. "What course of action do you suggest I take, Doctor?" 

You hummed for a moment as though thinking it over. 


"Perhaps consider appealing to his pathos, Conan. If he refuses to see reason and continues to be difficult after this new approach, let me know." 


"Understood, Doctor." He paused, scrutinizing your face. "Are you alright? You seem... flustered? No, that's incorrect... You look--" 

You bit your lip to avoid making an uncouth sound. Connor parted your thighs and licked a stripe up your center. 


"...Positively aroused." His voice deepened, his eyes flicking over your face in an almost invasive manner. "Doctor... do you find me attractive?" 

You choked on your air, kicking Connor in the chest as you tried to maintain your breathing. 


"Conan, um--uh--that's not a subject I think we should broach." 

He stood closer to the screen, his eyes darkening with--oh God--was that lust? 


"Why not, Doctor? Is it because of my predecessor?" He smirked devilishly, sending your nerves singing. "I don't think he'd have a problem with it, do you?"

Connor'd had enough. He moved to stand behind you, his chest bared in all of its glory. Connor's stare was glacial as he observed his reflection watching the two of you smugly. 


"Yes, I would have a problem with that. I've found that I'm rather posessive of what is mine." Connor's voice was doing some things to you. Holy shit.

Conan shrugged dismissively. 


"Don't feel bad, Connor. I do have your face, after all. You shouldn't feel too awful jealous of little old me." He inspected the undersides of his fingernails. "Maybe the three of us should get together sometime and talk about it."

Connor's face contorted into fury. He ended the conference call immediately, shutting the screen a little too forcefully. Connor picked you up roughly and threw you onto your bed, his eyes alight with something you'd never seen before: jealousy.

He ripped off your blazer and button-down, his eyes raking themselves over every inch of you. You shuddered and reached up for him, your eyes hazing over at the sight of him so worked up. Connor took your hand in his, kissing the palm repeatedly before kneeling over you. 


"You are mine. Never forget that."

He removed his boxers and dove into you, his rhythm jarring and full of need. 

Connor moved at breakneck speeds, his emotions getting the better of him. All you could do was hold onto the sheets for dear life, unraveling again and again. 

You whispered his name over and over like a prayer, hoping it would never end. 

Finally, his punishing thrusts began to slow; he was nearing his release as well. You felt yourself shiver with the force of the aftereffects. Connor came with a jolt and he fell on top of you, his breath erratic and heavy. He propped himself up onto his elbow to look down at you. 


"I'm sorry if that was too rough," He sighed. 

Connor's eyes filled with apology as he shifted and pulled out of you. Once the power of speech returned to you, you grinned up at him. 


"Jesus, Connor--don't be sorry! That was amazing, maybe we should consider inviting Conan over after all." 




"Hey, I'm serious, that was bloody fantastic. Don't hold back anymore, okay? I'm not made of glass." 

He chuckled darkly. 


"Baby, you don't know what you're asking for." 

You rolled your eyes in response and got up to clean yourself. 


"No, really--that right there was about 30% of my potential. If I didn't hold back, I would shatter your pelvis and parts of your spine." 

You froze. 


"Oh. Okay, maybe don't do that." You laughed and used him for support as you hobbled to the bathroom. "Maybe, next time, turn it up to about 35%. That sounds like heaven." 


"I'll consider it." 


"You should also consider including Conan, because holy hell--you're sexy when you're jealous." 

Connor kissed your collarbone in response, helping you to the shower so he could care for you properly. 


"Maybe. Big maybe. Don't get your hopes up, sunshine." He lightly smacked your ass and went off in search of a washcloth. 

You grinned to yourself. Oh, this was going to be fun.



Chapter Text

You were never the type to be considered a "good person." After a shitty childhood and fucked-up adolescence filled with abuse, you were unbelievably cold and calculating. You held no feelings of sentimentality or empathy; such things were useless to one such as you. 

You took money for things that made you a terrible person. Sometimes you killed people. But mostly, you just broke them. Don't kill their body, kill their mind. Leave the physical shell walking and talking, but strip them of everything that made that person who they were. Make them forget all of their loved ones, themselves, their experiences and their past, their skills, and have them completely start over from scratch. Keep them in a place where their loved ones will be taunted every day by a living ghost... Make them recognise the fact that they're worthless. Death was a release, not a punishment.

There was a reason that your peers in the contract killer community called you the Heartless. Your fellows often kept away from you, only dealing with you when absolutely necessary. If anything, you suspected, they were afraid of you. You were a complete wild card; there was no leverage to be had upon your actions. You had no connections to the civillian world, no family, no friends, no one who you cared about, and no one who cared about you. No one who could be used to hurt you. 

Perhaps it was a sad existence, in a way. But it suited you just fine.

Some claimed that you didn't even exist. The Heartless is just a myth to scare the greenies, some would say. Hah. Your record told its own story. At least, it certainly held enough of a narrative that you'd shown up on CyberLife's radar fairly quickly. 

You squinted at the contract, trying to make sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you. Target: RK800 #313 248 317 - 51. Interesting. CyberLife had hired you for a few hits before, but they were always humans--inconsequential to the grand scheme of the tech giant's web of life, beings who'd found out too much but were easily snuffed and explained away. This was the first time they'd hired you for an android. 

You scrunched your nose, determination sharpening your features. Humans were easy enough to kill. They made mistakes, had lapses in judgement, got depressed and committed sin--but androids were nearly perfect beings. This would, possibly, be the greatest challenge of your career. 

Your past notwithstanding, you were determined to complete your mission. 

No matter the cost.




You scrolled through security stills from surveillance drones, eyes catching on the android in question. You were very familiar with that face; it was something that pained you, despite your reputation. This android's registered purpose was negotiator and deviant expert; but what did his programming matter, now that he was a deviant? He seemed unassuming enough--soft brown eyes and dark hair paired with fair skin made him a boyishly handsome model. However, appearances could be devilishly deceiving; you alone were evidence enough of that.

You shoved your hair out of your eyes, regretting the short cut you now sported. It would take forever to grow back to its normal shoulder-length, and it was already getting on your nerves to have to keep pushing it out of your face. 


"Alrighty, Connor. Let's see what makes you tick. What kinda girl gets that Thirium pumping?"

Your fingers flew across the keys, analyzing every movement and focus of his eyes. Assigned to Lieutenant Hank Anderson to investigate deviants; got transferred to homicide cases after the Android Revolution. 

You pulled up Hank's file with a cursory glance. Decorated cop. Alcoholic. Youngest detective to be promoted to lieutenant, blah blah blah--oh, he has a dog named Sumo. Cool.

Gnawing on your thumb, you closed all of your tabs and considered your approach. 


{ > Get close to Hank? } ->Probability: None; Recluse with irritable personality.

{ > Coincidental meeting? } ->Probability: Unlikely; Would smell a trap.

{ > Undercover? -- see file: identity } ->Probability: Success Likely; Connor unit RK800 prone to compassion and empathy.


You pursed your lips, deep in thought. From your observations, Connor had shown no signs of attraction to any particular type of female. You hoped he wasn't into the male variety--you'd go pretty far to do your job, but you weren't ready to consider any permanent solutions for that. After all, you were rather adept at manipulating your feminine qualities. 

You opened the file indicated, watching as a fake ID with a name and background materialized on your holo.


Name: Parker, Lynne Rose

Age: 26

Date of Birth: December 15

Occupation: Graphic Artist (Character Design)

Country of Origin: United States


Your face fell. It was the identity you'd created for yourself when you'd first escaped your old life. The person you'd never had the chance to become. If things had been different, you would've been an artist, maybe gone to live with your uncle Carl...

You shook your head. It was the only identity you had with a squeaky-clean record. Connor would be most likely to trust someone without a record. The only question now, though, was how to make it believable? You got up to look at your reflection. 

You weren't exactly drop-dead gorgeous, but you were at least a 6 without makeup. When you put in an effort, you were easily an 8 or 9. If you wore clothes that were flattering, rather than the tactical clothing you normally wore, you would seem... normal.

You ran a hand down your face in frustration. Well, you were about to discover what it would've been like to live the life you'd wanted eight years ago. You made some phone calls to your Agency contacts and set up the fake identity with proofs of insurance, an apartment, birth certificate--if this was going to work, you had to make sure it was absolutely bullet-proof.

You flinched at your handller's tone. Don't let it in. Don't let it in your head. This plan has to go without a hitch, and if you let it get to you, you're done.

Connor had a processor that rivaled your own installed into his head, and if he decided to look, you had to make sure that he would believe you without a doubt

You had to make sure that you would be the first--and last--mistake Connor ever made.



Connor thought it was going to be a good day. The sun was shining brightly, the birds were singing, and Sumo had offered him a satisfactory amount of affection before Hank woke up; there was nothing that could possibly dampen his mood. 

At least, that's what he'd thought before he got hit by your car.

You pulled over immediately, your eyes wide as you surveyed the damage.


"Oh my god! Are you okay? I'm so sorry!" You rushed to his side, your cheeks flushing as you observed him up close. 

Connor's LED spun red. His skin was already bruising and he ws bleeding from several places.


"I--I seem to be functioning. I've lost a little Thirium, but I think I'll be alright." Connor's eyes darted up to your face, surprise etching his expression. "Were you driving manually?" 

You looked away, biting your lip cautiously. Connor thought it was a cute little habit, though self-destructive. 


"I couldn't afford a self-driving car. I just kept my friend's old Tesla." You shrugged, embarrassed. "It seemed like a good choice at the time?" 


"Well, Lynne--" You internally cheered, his facial scanning software had picked up your fake identity like a charm, "I assure you, it's quite alright. Please pay attention to the road next time, Miss."

He started to rise to his feet, and you followed his movements. Jesus, he smelled good. His voice was much softer than you had expected, but it was a welcome difference from the model you were so familiar with.


"Um--Is there any way I can make it up to you," You read his coat jacket, "Connor?"

He paused, watching you with a spinning yellow LED. 


"I really must get to the Police Department," he muttered. 

Connor trailed off, his software kicking into overdrive. Even through your obvious mask of happiness and concern on the surface, he could see something was wrong with you. Your eyes were dull with loss. The kind of loss that showed in someone who had lost so much, that they were done caring about what happened next. 

You were the kind of person who would hurt themselves over and over again for the safety of someone they loved.

Self-harm was also a high possibility. Depression? He couldn't be sure just yet, but it seemed entirely plausible. Connor's Thirium pump lurched for you. He didn't want to leave you alone. Something told him if he did, he could be investigating your death next. 


"What did you have in mind?"

Your eyes lit up slightly, and Connor would give anything to drown in your happiness. 


"I live right over there, and I could help patch you up. It's the least I could do." You kicked the pavement. "If you want, I could give you a free art piece." 


"You're an artist?" Connor pulled up your information in the back of his mind, and there it was. Character design. 

You grinned. 


"Yes, actually. If you have a few minutes to come up to my apartment, I have some examples that you could choose from." 

Something buzzed at the base of Connor's skull. A small warning that it could be dangerous, that it could be a trap. But, as he took in your soft, dewy eyes and lithe frame, he decided it was just paranoia. 


"Sure. Lead the way." 






You traipsed up the steps, sending shy glances back at the android as you went. You had to lay it on thick, as thick as possible--because by your standards, too much interest was considered just polite in a normal person's eyes. 

You unlocked your door easily, as though you'd done it a thousand times, and led Connor inside your apartment. You tossed your keys into the bowl by the door and entered the main living area, where you gestured broadly to three large canvas prints of your artwork. They were old pieces, ones from your young and impressionable phase, when you still had hope for the world. They were detailed character portraits, with both bust profiles and full-body renditions on each. 


"Feel free to look around. I'll get my first aid kit and see if I can stop the bleeding."

You entered the bathroom and removed the box, removing gauze, tape, and some small bandages. You came back into the living room to see Connor happily admiring your hanging works. You sat down across from him and began inspecting the damage done. 


"Ugh, I'm so sorry," You worried your lip. "I check my blind spot for one second--!" 

You threw your hands in the air in an exasperated gesture. Connor only watched you, amused. He had a cut above his eyebrow that was already starting to close. You rinsed it with some wet gauze and it closed on its own. Moving on down his face, you proceeded in the same manner with each abrasion you came across. His lip was a little trickier, requiring more attention than you anticipated, but soon enough it closed as well.

The last remaining abrasion spanned the front of his chest, and treating it would require you to remove his shirt. Connor chuckled at your dilemma--bashfulness had never really been a problem for you before, you were usually numb to this sort of thing. But with Connor, perhaps, it was because you wanted to see him like that for other reasons that were much more selfish. 


"I can see you're just dying to get my clothes off." His eyes twinkled with mirth.

You sputtered but couldn't formulate an intelligent response, so you settled for unbuttoning his shirt and cleaning it while stubbornly refusing to look at his face. It was hard to ignore his well-sculpted chest and abdomen, the same with the ache in your core that he was creating. God, you were worse than a horny teenager! Maybe you should go to the Eden Club and work out some of that tension...

Connor, the dirty bastard, must've read your mind. 


"Do you need something, Lynne? Or are you just enjoying the view?"

You glared at him, irritation (at least that's what you told yourself it was) flooding your cheeks with heat. You quickly wrapped his chest in a bandage and rose to put everything away. Connor's voice carried in from the living room.


"So, what exactly do you do for a living?"

You entered the room as you spoke, nostalgia hitting you as your eyes landed on each piece.


"I design characters for different creative outlets, usually video game companies and film studios. Freelance most of the time, unless a big company wants my work for a number of characters for one project." You smiled at the works, reminding you of a simpler time long ago. "Do you have a favorite pop culture character? I do a lot of them in my free time, I probably have a sketch somewhere..." 


"Well, my partner showed me some of the old movies, the classics. My personal favorite was Indiana Jones." He blushed a little, suddenly becoming engrossed in your hardwood floor. "Gavin called me a nerd when I mentioned it." 

You frowned. 


"Pffft. Gavin is an uncultured ass if he can't enjoy the good shit."  You moved to the drawer in the south corner, rifling through the papers inside before humming in satisfaction. "One Doctor Jones, as requested!" 

You presented it before him with a flourish, a satisfied grin on your face. 

Connor caught the mote of sadness in your voice as you offered it to him. He didn't understand why, but he wanted to take away whatever had caused it--he wanted to be the source of your happiness


"It's incredible!" Connor inspected the piece carefully, making himself comfortable on a barstool by your kitchen. "What inspired you to become an artist?"

You shied away, blush tinging your cheeks. This was territory you didn't want to cover. But, with Connor...


"Honestly...? was an escape. I didn't have a good childhood. I drew my favorite people and creatures because it allowed me to get away from everything... even if only for a short time." 

Connor's LED spun yellow. 


"What happened that you had to escape from?" 


"Hah... A lot. I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I never let anyone in." You ran a hand over your face. "You don't wanna know."


"Yes, I do. You can tell me, Lynne. You can tell me anything." 

I hate what I'm doing to you. You're the last person I want to hurt. I can't tell you who I really am. I wish this was real. I hate who I've become, because I've ruined any chance of being normal--of finding someone like you, someone to spend the rest of my life with.


"Connor, I--" You caught yourself. No. You couldn't. "The people I lived with played mind games. They were the kind who got enjoyment out of watching others break down and suffer." 

Don't let him in. Don't let him in, no matter how much you want to. No matter what you may feel, he's still a target. He's a machine.

He doesn't like the real you, he never could. 

Especially since the real you was a monster.


"Do you want to talk about it?" His face was so open, it took all of your willpower to restrain your desires. 

You hesitated, your breath catching as you looked at the beautiful android sitting in your kitchen. He was so pure. You couldn't expose him to the hell you'd been through. After a short, breathy pause, you answered.


"No. It's alright. All of it was in the past." You waved your hand dismissively. "If you like Indy, you can keep him. I have so many of these things floating around lately, I need to get rid of some." 


"Can I see some more of your work?"


"Yeah, sure." You padded over to a drawer on the other side of the kitchen island, where you pulled out a sketchbook full of drawings. You smiled and tossed it at him. "Go nuts." 

He smiled as he flipped through it, his LED remaining a tranquil blue as he enjoyed each piece. His expression varied a little with each sketch. At a picture of the Joker, he frowned and tilted it this way and that; when he came to a sketch of Kratos, his LED spun in recognition; he grinned at a fully-colored rendition of Spider-Man and Wolverine. Connor looked up to see you watching him with soft eyes, dragging your lip between your teeth. 

God, Connor was beautiful. His hair looked so soft and bouncy, and even though it was cliché, you wanted to drown in the depths of his eyes. His smile was absolutely adorable, as was his diction and the manner in which he moved. 


You were in trouble. 

There was no way you could bring yourself to hurt him. He was just too--too--innocent? No, that wasn't right. Charming, maybe. He had a way of stealing your breath when he looked at you, when he spoke to you.

Connor was having similar thoughts about you. There was something between you--call it sexual tension, chemistry, or even astrology, for God's sake--and whatever it was, he was drawn to you. The way your hips moved when you walked, the way your hair bobbed when you turned to look at him, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about your art. All of it was addicting to him. He wanted to get lost in your smile and taste the silver tongue he already adored.

Of course, he caught you staring. He smiled, though, and offered you a loose sketch of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.


"Sorry, this fell out." 

You took it from him, regarding it thoughtfully. Your eyes lost focus. What the hell am I going to do? 






"Do you... maybe... want to... go out, with me, sometime?" Connor watched your face for a reaction, and was hurt by what he saw--fleeting anger, sadness, and remorse. "Of course you don't have to, I just thought--!"

The paper floated to the floor, fluttering in the air before landing upside down. God, what was happening to you? This was the fucking plan--why did your chest feel like an elephant was tap-dancing on it?

Don't kill their body, kill their mind. 

Words that had been hammered into your head so many times that they still made it spin. You'd been on the receiving end of those words, the result of a sick psychological experiment that left you the broken being you were today. 

And yet... Connor had managed to make you believe he cared about something as worthless as you with only a few casual words. 

You lifted your eyes to meet his, and tears sprung to them faster than you could stop. 


"I... I'm sorry, Connor. I'd love to. I'm just... No one's ever asked me out on a date before." Half-truth. No one's ever taken me on a date before.

Connor's face lit up before your words sank in. 


"What? I seriously doubt that." Connor scooted closer, his eyes roving up and down your frame. "You're way too beautiful to have been single your whole life."


"I could say the same about you, and yet here we are."

It was Connor's turn to flush and stutter nervously. 


"Well, I, I mean--that, that, uh, that's different, you see--I've only been alive for, for, like, uh, a few months, less than a year! You've been alive for 26 years, and that's way different..."

You scoffed and rose from your seat. 


"Sorry. You said earlier that you had to be somewhere."

Connor's face fell, his disappointment mirroring your own. 


"You--You're right, of course." He got up, too, holding your drawing close to his body. "Um... I do want to see you again. Even though you hit me with your car."

You giggled, leading him to your front door. You opened it for him and met his eyes, your heart fluttering in your chest as he smiled at you. 


"I'll see you soon, Connor. If things get busy, you know where to find me." 

He nodded, a touch of sadness hitting his eyes. 


"Can I see you this Friday? I'll come pick you up and we can go see a movie?"


"...Yeah. What time do you get off work?"


"That depends on the mood Hank is in. I'll try to leave early. Expect me around 6:00?"


"Okay." You sighed and watched him get into the elevator at the end of the hall, feeling as though something in you had died.



You stood in front of your mirror, hesitation gnawing at your gut. God, you really wanted to impress him; and for what? You were supposed to fucking murder him in cold blood--or, you supposed, blue blood was more apt--and here you were having butterflies over what he'd think if he saw you in a dress. 

Assassins like you weren't supposed to feel shit like this. 

The doorbell rang, and you knew you were utterly screwed. You added a last touch to your lipstick (red, like your own blood) and answered the door. 

Jesus, it's gotta be illegal to look that good. You eyed him carefully, observing his pristine suit, slacks, and blazer. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and you could've sworn you saw him bite his lip.


"Lynne. You look..." He searched for the right word, his LED spinning as he struggled silently. "Radiant." 

You wanted to snort. If there was one word you'd never use to describe yourself, it was radiant. Your soul was a ceaseless black hole, your heart a withered thing shrunk three sizes too small. Why you'd chosen a pale cream dress, you'd never know; it was the only thing you owned that wasn't hideous. You caught him watching you and cleared your throat. 


"I--Thank you. Um, won't you come in?"

He followed you into your living room, where he sat on your couch. Oof. The way he effortlessly stretched out in that suit--if you weren't careful, you'd be jumping his bones by the end of the night. 

No alcohol for you, it seemed. Shame, probably would've dulled the amount of thoughts running through your head.


"I figured we could see Tiger's Curse. It's adapted from a really old book series, but they never had the funding or the CGI to make it before. The reviews say it's pretty damn... good..." 

Connor had shifted his weight unconsciously and he was leaning closer to you. He smelled divine, like crisp linens and lavender, with a hint of something darker, like woodsmoke. 


"Um... Connor, I really like you... And believe me, it's been so long since I've gotten any, I'd be more than happy to ride you where you sit--but there are some things you don't know about me, things that you should know, before things get any more intimate--"

He let out a breath, his gaze fixing on your lips. 


"Then tell me." 


"Ugh--Jesus, Connor, it's not that simple." You raked your fingers through your hair, trying to ground yourself amidst the sea of lust you were experiencing. "I--I'm not who you think I am." 

Connor scooted closer, his thigh touching your knee. You almost squeaked; his eyes had become pools of almost black, devouring the light with an intensity you'd never seen before. You wanted to drown in him, forget who you were and what you'd become. 


"I know enough to recognise that I like what I see," he breathed. "I know enough to have my every waking thought be consumed with your face, your voice--what you would sound like wrapped around me, taking me into your flesh..."

You lost track of yourself as his lips collided with yours. It seemed so right, as though it'd always been meant to be. The two of you lost your clothes and before you could say CyberLife, Connor had you screaming his name at the top of your lungs as you swayed on top of him. 

He whispered sweet nothings as he worked you down from your orgasm, his fingers caressing every bare inch of skin he had access to.

Connor made you feel alive.

You collapsed on top of him, your legs tangling with his as he ran his fingers through your hair. You couldn't fall asleep, no matter how exhausted Connor had made you. 

Jesus Christ Almighty, what am I going to do? 

I'm in love with the android from CyberLife, and there's nothing I can do to change that. 

How am I going to escape them? 

Your mission had changed. Connor may have been your mission from the start, but your objective had changed.

You were going to make sure no one would ever hurt him again.




You woke to the smell of pancakes in the kitchen and the sound of Connor humming sweetly. After pulling on a t-shirt and jeans, you got up to see him still naked as the day he was born, except for the apron he'd absconded with from your pantry. You smirked as you eyed him up and down. 


"Need something?" He asked cheekily.


"Nah. Just appreciating the view." You sauntered behind him and gave him a nice smack on the ass, eliciting a little yelp as he flipped a pancake. 


"I thought you would be hungry when you woke up, so I took it upon myself to see to that need." He winked at you and gestured to a plate already piled high with flapjacks. "Help yourself." 

You smiled and did as he said, admiring the planes of his body and the pull of his synthetic muscles as they moved. Three days. Less than three days, and you were feeling things beyond the natural infatuations you usually held. If you believed in such nonsense, you would've almost called it "love." 

No, no no no no! Love doesn't happen that fast. Ever. Even if it did exist in Detroit, or for that matter, in the world or universe, it would never sprout for someone like me. I'm kidding myself, it's just a fling, I'm not feeling this. It's all a lie.

Connor sensed a shift in your mood. He finished up with the griddle, took off his apron, and came to kneel before you in all of his bare glory. 


"Lynne. Is something wrong?" His eyes searched yours with concern.

You felt tears coming to the surface against your will. 


"Connor, I--" Your breath came in a shuddering gasp, attempting to keep the tears from falling. "--I'm scared."

Understanding lit in his eyes and he pulled you close.


"I know you're scared. This is all new for me, too. But I promise you, Lynne--I would never hurt you." He kissed your neck softly. "If I'm completely honest, I'm probably more scared than you are. I've never been in love before." 

He pulled back to gauge your reaction.


If you hadn't been already sitting, you would've collapsed right then and there. Your chest was constricting and refusing to allow the air in. Your limbs went limp like a ragdoll and you found yourself falling over the side of your chair. Connor grunted in surprise and toppled a stool in his haste to catch you, but you crumpled to the floor like a sack of potatoes. 


"Lynne? Lynne! Can you hear me?"

It was times like these that made you wish you could be just like everyone else. 

When you hated yourself so much for what you had to do, what you liked doing to other people. You were a monster. The kind of monster that Connor was designed to slay. 

I can't do it. I can't do it anymore. What's happening to me? I must be going crazy... I can't be in love with an android I just met. That's just not fucking possible. No, this had to be infatuation. Love didn't just sprout wings from nothing but a few days. 

Jesus... How could Connor have such an intense effect on you? Butterflies were fluttering in your stomach, and Panic was beating its wings against your ribcage in an effort to escape--you were helpless against this.

You lifted haunted eyes to him, not quite seeing his face as you let yourself feel for the first time in... forever. All of the anger, the hurt, the pain came rushing back. You wanted to lash out at Connor, to make him understand he was lying to himself if he thought you were fixable--but you didn't want to hurt him in any capacity. You wanted to scream in agony for all of the hate you felt for what you'd let yourself become.

You couldn't speak. If you opened your mouth, everything would come tumbling out at once. Tears streamed down your face for the first time in years; it actually hurt to cry, it had been so long. The floor seemed to sway underneath of you, before everything went black. 



"Lieutenant! Help me!" Connor's voice echoed desperately down the hallway. He'd managed to pull on his clothes in the time it took Hank to get from his house to your downtown apartment. 

Hank's heavy footsteps could be heard two floors down as he entered your apartment, grumbling softly.


"Connor, what's going--Oh, Jesus fuck! How the hell did you catch her?" Hank's nose crinkled in disgust and he pulled out a set of handcuffs. 

Connor's brow creased in confusion. 


"Catch her--? Lieutenant, what are you talking about? Lynne needs help!"

Hank grunted and clicked the restraints into place around your wrists. Connor glared at him, waiting for an explanation. 


"This chick--I don't know what she told you, Connor, but--she's wanted in so many different places, I've lost count." He knelt beside your unconscious form, inspecting you with distaste. "You name it, this little lady's done it: murder, extortion, bribery, manipulation--plus a few things we don't even have names for. She's an assassin, Connor. Which means someone is on your tail." 

Connor's LED spun viciously yellow before settling on red. Connor was struggling with his own feelings at the moment. How could he have been so easily deceived? Was that all it took--a pretty face, soft voice, and tender words--to make him completely unravel? Connor hoped his deviancy hadn't betrayed him, in the end. He let his face fall into his hands. I've been a fool. 


"She just collapsed--she looked like she was having a nervous breakdown. She looked like she was dying."


"Yeah? Well, good riddance. There are few people worse than the Heartless." 


"The Heartless?"


"That's her name in the contract killer circle. No one knows her real identity--for all we know, she could be a fucking royal and we'd be none the wiser." 


"I--I pulled a background on her, all of it checked out," Connor muttered. "Everything was fine."


"That's because she's damn good at her job, Connor. Come on, let's get her back to the station."



"What's your name?" Hank glared at you across the interrogation table. "Who's your mark? Who've you come for?" 

Nothing rose to the surface. You were dead inside. It wouldn't matter soon anyway; once word got out to CyberLife that you'd failed, this would all be over. You wouldn't have to worry about this pain in your chest anymore.


"Damn it, I'm trying to help you out!" Hank slammed his hands into the metal of the table, his patience wearing thin. "You're going to talk, one way or another!"

This was growing old. 


"Fuck!" Hank stormed out of the interrogation chamber, his face a little flushed. Connor watched you from behind the glass, barely listening to the argument between Reed and Hank beside him. 


"Could always rough her up a little," Gavin grinned, "I bet a chick like her likes it rough."

Hank glared at him. 


"Fuck off, Reed! Fucking pervert..." 

Connor tore his eyes away from you long enough to engage in the conversation. 


"Detective Reed, I find that it would be unwise to engage the suspect physically. I've done some digging, and she is very dangerous."

Gavin rolled his eyes. 


"Yeah, but she's still a fucking chick. I'd like to see her try to take me out."


"She's taken down governments. She could snap your neck like a twig if she thought you were a threat," Connor stated cooly. He turned to Hank. "Let me try. She knows me."


"You were her fucking target, Connor. I'm not letting you in there."


"I can take care of myself, Lieutenant. You will be watching closely. If she moves, I'll neutralize the threat."

Hank groaned softly.


"Ugh, fine. Five minutes," He relented. 

Connor strolled into the interrogation room, his eyes roving over you intently. You were sitting slumped in your chair, your eyes trained on your hands. Your short hair was rumpled from being dragged around like a ragdoll. Your makeup was smudged from crying. You looked utterly dejected. 


"I can't very well call you Lynne anymore since that's not your name," Connor began. "Can you tell me why you're really here, Miss...?"

Your hands began to shake. Haunted grey eyes met understanding brown ones, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You gave him your real name, barely audible to the human ear, only for him. 

He whispered your name back at you, though not really--like he was testing it out on his tongue, tasting it for the first time. You struggled to speak, the truth catching in your throat. 


"I--am known in some circles as the Heartless." You lifted your head just enough to meet Connor's eyes. "If you know the name, you know the horrors I've committed. You know why I'm here."

Connor's face pinched in discomfort. He didn't want to believe these things about you, but the information was flowing right before his eyes. His expression hardened slightly. He had to move through this. He had to. 


"86 confirmed kills--suspected in over 200 murders across the globe. Your commission price is high enough that it practically matches the bounty on your head. You must be very affluent."


"It keeps my stomach full and my guns clean." You paused. "Really, though--you don't know about the others?"

Connor shook his head, no. 


"Interesting. Do you know what else I'm hired for?" To his silence, you continued, your voice rising in volume as you gained confidence. "I get into people's heads. I whisper things to them, much like a little devil on their shoulder. I suggest things to them, ever so subtly, so that they think it's their own ideas that float through their heads. I manipulate people into seeing the perspective of my contractors--and if they don't, well..." 

You shrugged and sat back, crossing your arms and legs. Connor caught on to the defensive posture, deciding to go for a more soft approach.


"Then they disappear. They show up in asylums with no recollection of who they used to be, much less what their opinions were." 

Connor sighed, running a hand through his hair. 


"Why did you come to find me? Why did you try to lure me up to your apartment?" He made sure his tone was undemanding enough to be friendly, but still insistent.

Your expression faltered. You blinked and bit your lip, thinking. 


"Connor--" You cut yourself off.

Did you have the heart to tell this puppy-eyed android that you'd been hired to deactivate him? Did you have enough of a lack of empathy to leave him in the dark?


"Please." His eyes searched yours, and you felt something snap in your chest.

God, did your heart just break? When had you grown one? 

You'd murdered families, separated children from their parents, killed at the drop of a hat--how could one android with a soft voice and tender words change your outlook? As you openly observed him, you couldn't help but feel for the first time since you could remember. Connor made you more human, when you'd thought you were nothing more than a machine pretending to be one.

Tears began falling down your cheeks, silently streaming from sockets that you'd long thought had run dry. Connor registered shock in his processor; how had he made her cry twice in one day?


"It--It's--!" You snarled in frustration, swiping angrily at your face. Connor offered you a handkerchief, but that only increased the degree of your crying. "Fuck, Connor! CyberLife is after you! They wanted me to try to get close enough to allow them to deactivate you!" 

You sobbed in defeat, collapsing onto the table in a wet mess. 


"They wanted me to kill you, but I just can't! I don't--I don't know why, I just--" You took a deep breath, fear seeping into your bones. "They're going to find me, now. There's nothing you can do. Nothing from heaven or earth can stop them now." 


"Stop them from doing what?" Connor called your name, his arms wrapping around your shoulders protectively. "What's going to happen?"


"They're going to kill me, Connor. I should've never tried to make a deal with an army of monsters." 

Connor's fists tightened and he pressed them into the table, his expression hardening with determination. 


"They're not going to hurt a hair on your head. Not if you tell me everything I need to know about them and your past employers." Connor leaned closer, his conviction intoxicating. "I will protect you." 

You offered him a sad laugh. 


"Connor, honey--" You sighed and wiped away your tears. "Nothing can keep my handler from its mission." 

Your lungs refused to inflate. The real reason you'd taken the job--you'd thought CyberLife had meant your original handler. But when you saw his serial number, you knew that was a childish fantasy. 

Connor blanched, his hands loosening against the cold table. His eyes begged you to tell him that he was wrong in his assumptions.


"What is the identity of your handler?"


"RK900 is going to stop at nothing to make sure I am put down like the animal they've molded me to be--it's never failed CyberLife before, and it won't fail them now." 

Connor's fists pounded the table with surprising ferocity. He growled to himself, pacing in the interrogation room with passion you'd never seen before. Apparently, it took Hank off-guard too. 


"Connor, what the hell's going on in there? What did she say?"

Connor stalled in his pacing long enough to look at the mirror, indecision warring on his face.


"RK900 is coming." 


"Ah, shit--!" Hank cut off the microphone to the interrogation room, leaving just you and Connor. 

He returned his attention to you, anger seeping into his inflection as he began firing questions at you. 


"Was that why you couldn't hurt me? Because you harbored feelings for RK900? None of it was real, was it?"

You nearly laughed aloud. 


"Pssh. No, if it had really been the mark, I would've killed RK900 before it could blink." You met his eyes, remorse falling into your own. "But--you're so vastly different from it. Connor, Deviant Negotiator. You're... everything I wanted 900 to be.  I fell for you faster than I thought possible. Maybe it was because 900 had your face, and I already held physical attraction for it--personality-wise, 900 is rather lacking. You, Connor... You're everything I wanted." 

Connor's world was being spun upside down. He didn't know if he wanted to kiss you or shove you off of a bridge--maybe even both. His entire concept of who you were was a lie, a ploy for you to get close enough to kill him. So why did his heart lurch when you so casually threw out the fact that you were going to die?

Connor finally registered what you had said, and guilt began to eat away at him. Humans grow attached very quickly, that much he knew; especially after intercourse, emotions could grow deep within a small amount of time. He'd only known you for approximately three days, and he'd already slept with you--perhaps that was just a mistake on his part, but he couldn't help the feeling that it wasn't.

Somehow, you ignited a passion in him that he never knew he'd possessed. You brought forth in the android what he wanted to be. He couldn't just let you die for the sins you'd committed.

He attempted to rein in his anger long enough to check on you. He wasn't 100% sure all of the blame rested on you. Most of his anger had been directed at CyberLife, for the weaselly way they'd tried to shut him up. 

Your eyes were hollow, your makeup was running down your face with your silent tears, and your shoulders were caving in on themselves. You were a shell, it seemed; the life had been sucked from your soul by the same tech giant that was also responsible for his creation.

Connor knelt by your side, hiding his face from Hank and Gavin so they couldn't see his words. 


"If you're anything like the woman I came to love... You were my new dream."

You choked back a sob at the reference to Tangled, the movie you'd offhandedly mentioned as one of the greatest Disney movies of all time. You flung your arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. 


"I will protect you to my last dying breath," You whispered. "I will atone for the sins I've committed."

He shoved you back so you would be forced to look into his eyes. 


"Oh, you will atone, all right. But not that way. I'll keep both of us alive and safe." He cupped your cheeks in his hands, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm with you, to the end of the line."



Chapter Text

It seemed like a normal enough Friday night. Connor was running a little late, but he was finishing up the details for a case, so you weren't concerned. So when he came in and immediately kissed you like a starving man, you thought he'd just missed you. You giggled and pushed him away.


"Connor, I've gotta finish dinner--" Your eyes snagged on his. Fuck. Shitfuck.

This wasn't Connor. His eyes were a steely grey, but his smile seemed to directly mirror Connor's when he was horny. 


"Oh, love--don't be like that." Conan pulled you back into his arms, his hands massaging your scalp gently as he regarded you. "I'll take care of you, baby." 

His lips graced against your neck, eliciting an unholy sound from your throat. 

You felt a sudden absence as he was ripped away from you. 

Connor's eyes blazed with fury as he planted himself between Conan and you. He growled deep in his throat, his fists balling at his sides. 

"Give me one good reason to not kill you where you stand," Connor snarled. 

Conan swiped at a stream of blue blood from his lip, a smirk lighting his smug face. 


"Ah, Connor. I didn't hear you come in. You're welcome to join us. Unlike you, I'm willing to share." He sent you a wink. "I think she'd enjoy it."


"You're not getting anywhere near her, if I have anything to say about it!" Connor gripped your hand in his, tilting his body towards Conan in order to shield you. 

Conan snickered and inspected his fingernails. 


"That's a shame. I can smell her arousal from here, and it's driving me nearly mad. I would've loved to ravage her with you." 

Your knees began to quake. As much as you hated to admit it, you agreed with Conan. You rubbed your thighs together almost imperceptibly, trying to relieve some of the pressure. That was a mistake, as Conan's attention immediately zeroed in on you.


"Come on, doll. Back me up. You're dying for it over there." 

Connor's gaze returned to you, a tinge of betrayal creasing the skin around his eyes. You groaned in frustration. 


"It's not my fault, Connor! He's like your fucking twin, and you know how you drive me crazy..." You bit your lip, trying to bring yourself out of your lusty haze. "In all honesty, I would be open to Conan joining us in our... nocturnal behaviors. But you're uncomfortable with that, so I say no, as well." 

Connor squeezed your fingers thankfully, his brown eyes meeting Conan's grey ones.


"You heard her. Get out." 

Conan shrugged. 


"Fine. But the invitation's always there. You know how to find me." 

He swaggered out of your house, making sure to sway his hips just enough to draw your eyes to his ass. 

That night, Connor nearly fucked your brains out. You thought that was the end of the conversation. After all, Connor was rarely the type to change his mind over boundaries like that. 

Until three months later when you came home on your birthday late at night. All of the lights were off, except for your bedroom. You grinned, liking how this was headed. 


"Connor? Baby, I'm home," You called into the seemingly empty house, your nerves sparking in anticipation. "Connor?" 

You opened your bedroom door fully and nearly choked on your air. Connor was laying on your bed in nothing but a black silk tie and matching speedo. Conan was standing behind him, wearing a blue silk tie and speedo. Both had gift bows tied around their waists. 

You nearly drooled, but who could blame you? You had two beautiful androids about to give you the best sex of your life.


"Welcome home, Love." They said this in unison, causing your knees to almost buckle.

You forced yourself to think straight and began removing your clothes slowly, teasing them as much as you could bear. (You weren't sure if it was really teasing or if you were just slow on the uptake, but you chose to believe that you wanted to have them baying for your blood.)

You stopped at your matching grey lace bra and panties, fluffing your hair before turning to look at them with a sadistic smile. 


"Okay, boys," You cooed, "Let's have some fun." 

You moved to your closet and pulled out two pairs of handcuffs. Connor's expression blanched from one of seduction and lust to one of apprehension. Conan licked his lips, stepping forward eagerly. 


"Come on, Connor," Conan smirked over his shoulder, "Don't be a crybaby." 

You cuffed Conan to your bedposts next to Connor. They were laying side by side, now. Connor sat up, pleading with you. 


"Please, no," He whispered. 

You laughed. 


"Oh, you think these are for you?" You rolled your eyes when he nodded. "No, baby. These are also for Conan. I know how painful this must be for you, so to start, Conan isn't allowed to touch me." 

You cuffed Conan's ankles to the endposts, his eyes already glazing over. Yeah, you'd pegged him for a masochist from the first second he'd given you his bedroom eyes. You smirked down at him and stroked his tie slowly. 


"See, Connor? He can't have what isn't his." You leaned down and pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, drawing Thirium in your wake. "He's helpless to my whims. At least, for now." 

 You straddled Conan, causing him to groan out loud. Connor's lips began to grace your skin and you ground your hips against Conan. Connor's teeth met your shoulder, making you throw your head back and arch against Conan. He didn't speak, he only sent you murderous glares and struggled to keep his hips still. You removed your underwear and let your bare core grind against Conan as Connor lined himself up behind you. 

Your hands flew down to Conan's chest to support yourself as Connor entered you from behind, pulling a gasp from your lips as you swayed against the both of them. Conan yanked against his cuffs, want filling his eyes, but you slapped him across the face. 


"Conan, be still! It's not your turn, RK900." 

He bit his lip where your teeth had drawn blood. You almost wanted to laugh. You probably would've, if Connor wasn't fucking you like there was a demon at his heels. 


"I can feel the both of you," Conan rasped. "Stop teasing me and let me out of here." 

You raked your nails across Conan's chest and down his core, teasing your fingers around the bow that was still fastened around his v. You smirked, your breasts bouncing with the force of Connor's thrusts. 


"Soon, baby." 

Connor growled behind you and moved his hands from your hips to unclasp your bra and play with your skin. Conan strained against his briefs, offering delicious friction to your impossibly wet core. 

You screamed Connor's name as you were rocked through your first orgasm, clawing at Conan's skin and caking his blood beneath your fingernails. Connor slid out from you and tossed the soiled condom with a jealous glare as you collapsed on top of Conan. He moaned and nipped at your neck before kissing you vigorously, rotating his hips to remind you of his growing need. 

You laughed at Conan's eagerness, patting his cheek before sitting up and straddling him once more. 


"My, you're eager! Did I really get you so worked up with that little show?" 

Conan didn't respond. He tugged at his bonds with a glare that made your heat quiver in anticipation. 

With a grunt you ripped away his last barrier and rammed yourself down onto him, gripping his waist tightly and rocking back and forth. He yelped, something that sounded much more like Connor than you would've guessed, and bucked in time with your movements. You reached for your discarded bra and ordered Connor to unlock his hands and feet. 

As soon as Conan was free, he lifted you behind your knees and flipped you onto your back. He set a grueling pace, beyond even what Connor did when he was jealous. It seemed he had no qualms about leaving a few marks, and it suited you just fine. 

You were quaking through your third orgasm by the time Conan came inside of you, his gasps strangely endearing and sexy all at once. You locked your legs around his waist, holding him inside of you as you beckoned Connor forward. 

His lips melted with yours, dancing to a new tune as Conan slid his member from your core. You gasped when his tongue took its place, expertly maneuvering as though he'd done it a thousand times. Connor's fingers pinched at your nipples softly as his lips toyed with yours, Conan kissing the ones between your hips with equal fervor.

I could've died and gone to heaven, and I'd never know the difference. 

Connor's hands slid into your hair, gently tugging in the way he knew drove you wild. You reached down and buried your fingers in Conan's hair, pulling his face further into your heat. He chuckled into you, sweet vibrations against your core, before sitting up and diving back into you with your essence on his lips. He shoved Connor away from you roughly and replaced it with his own mouth. You tasted yourself on him, your tongues tangling and dancing with one another as he pounded you into your mattress. 

I just want to be invisible with you
I drift in and out of time zones with you
Just squeeze me until my skin turns to dark blue
My pity party's not the same without you

Connor was done being pushed around, it seemed. 

I don't wanna be your crybaby
I don't wanna be your crybaby now

He kicked Conan in the side, sending him off balance and causing him to slip from you with an oddly satisisfying pop! before sliding into you himself. His eyes roved over your exhausted form with concern, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. 


"Are you okay, Love?"

You grinned up at him, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. 


"Are you kidding? Babe, this was the best birthday ever. I got to fuck two of you."

Conan smirked from his position on the floor, swiping the blue blood you'd drawn from his lip.


"So, are you ready for round four?" He asked. 

You laughed, letting Connor go and sitting up. 


"You know what? Yes. But I want both of you at once." 

You're the morning I can't wait to wake to
After chasing you through my dreams in bloom
I'll please you until you're sick of me in full
Maybe I can sleep through my mood 'til June

Connor glanced back at Conan, who only had eyes for you. Conan slid up onto your comforter, his erection somehow... bigger than Connor's. Was that even possible? Now that you were looking at the two of them side by side, you had to admit that Conan was definitely an upgrade. There was no way you were taking him up your ass. 


"Alrighty. Conan, you're up front. Connor, you're in back."

Conan smirked knowingly as you sat up on your knees, moving over to sit on his lap. Connor shuffled behind you, getting a little lube onto his tip before sliding in. Conan lowered you onto his lap with a sigh of happiness. 

They pinned you between the two of them, slowly rocking back and forth in tandem with one another. There was nothing left for you to do but let your two androids take care of you. Life was good.


You woke up the next morning with Connor passed out next to you. You smiled at the sight of his sex-touseled hair; it was one of the things you loved about being with him. No one else saw him any way other than Professional and Businesslike Connor. You had the privilege of watching him become undone every night. 

You rolled over and caught sight of Conan passed out face-down in your hallway. His very nice ass winked at you in the early morning sunlight, still glistening with artificial sweat and coolants. 

Despite your first impressions of the RK900, he was strangely endearing. He could be an asshole, but when he wanted to be, he had a great sense of humor and was capable of being very caring. 

You sighed and rolled over to cuddle your boyfriend, pressing soft kisses to his collarbone before rising to greet the day. 


 The amazing Galacticguts did a feckin fantastic fan art of this chapter and I'm so PUMPED here it is and give them ALL OF THE LOVE because even I didn't have the guts to draw dis :D

Amazing fans like you are why I get up in the morning, I love this so much. Babe, you rock.




Chapter Text

Tears streamed down your cheeks as Connor held your fragile body close to his. Because, despite everything you'd done, Connor was willing to try to love you. It was the last thing you deserved, but he still had faith in you. If anything, that alone spoke volumes to the kind of person Connor had become. 

You bunched his suit jacket in your fists, tangling your legs in his. There was nothing you wanted more than to just drown in him. 

But, as you lifted your head, you knew that you would never get the chance. 

A familiar figure was standing at your balcony, gently brushing aside your curtains as it stepped inside your home. Connor stiffened around you, his hold on you tightening as he met the eyes of his evil twin. 


"My, my. So quick to find a replacement for me, darling?" RK900 adjusted his tie, its smile cold and calculating. "I never knew you cared."


"Yeah, and you're a lying bastard," You snarled. 

You released your hold on Connor, allowing the hunter to emerge from her chrysalis. There would be time to atone for your wrongs later; for now, you had a monster to tear apart. 

You rose to your feet, arching your back to meet the eyes of your tormentor. It took all of your willpower to not kiss that face, the one you'd come to love. But this was just a machine. Its eyes were steely grey, the opposite of the pools of chocolate you'd become attached to in only a matter of a week. You ground your teeth and squared up to it, ready to tear it apart piece by piece. 


"Me? Darling, I never lied to you." It leaned down just enough to be right in your face. "You, on the other hand, have a lot of explaining to do." 


"I don't have to explain anything to you, RK900. I've refunded CyberLife's money. I'm not taking the contract." 

It shoved you away from it, eyes flashing with anger. 


"You have everything to explain! Like, why you never called me by my name." It smoothed its anger, falling back into its feigned indifference. "You know my designated name. You were to call me Caleb. Your handler, your manager, your... lover." 

Its eyes darted to Connor, who was gripping the armrests of your couch with such force that you'd probably need to go shopping for a new one.


"You were never human enough to deserve a name." You spat at it, your eyes filled with hate. "You wouldn't touch me with a ten-foot pole. You hated me, resented me, and made my life a living hell for it. Connor is more human than you could ever become. He's what I hoped you would be. Maybe I just finally found what I was looking for." 


"After all I've done for you, I would've expected a little more gratitude, maybe an iota of respect." 


"You never even liked me in the first place! You played mind games with me, tore me apart and put me back together over and over just for your enjoyment! Respect is earned, you plastic piece of shit. CyberLife can go fuck themselves, I will no longer be their puppet." 

You crossed your arms over your chest, planting your feet on the ground in a solid stance. Connor rose to stand behind you, his eyes raking over his blue-eyed twin. 


"All of this fire, all for him?" Caleb smirked, regarding its counterpart with renewed judgement in its eyes. "All because he would actually sleep with you? Humans are pathetic."

It snorted, turning its daggers towards Connor. 


"And you, brother. You really care for this creature enough to protect her? She's not worth your time." 

You growled and swept your legs in a low kick to try to get Caleb off of its feet, but it was much heavier than you. Fucking androids. You hissed in pain and anger and instead opted to tackle it to the ground manually. You swiped at it with your fists, elbows, nails, anything you could do to hurt it. Caleb avoided most of your blows, but you got in one good shot to its nose, breaking it and causing a spurt of blue blood to explode forth. Caleb snarled and shoved you off of it, knocking you into your coffee table. 

Connor roared and took your place, hammering the punishment down on Caleb for its sins. They grappled on the ground, equally matched, as you nursed your pounding head. You shook your head, willing your vision to clear just in time to see Connor get flipped onto the floor. You jumped onto Caleb's back, catching it in a headlock as you attempted to snap its neck. 


"Androids have no need for oxygen." It slammed its skull back into yours, making a sickening crack. "Good-for-nothing, useless assassin. I could do your job better than you with my eyes closed."

Connor'd had enough. You were getting hurt and he was done playing nice. He surged forward and ripped out Caleb's Thirium pump regulator from its chest, sending its eyelids fluttering in panic. 


"She's worth more than you and I combined," Connor growled.


"You'll regret this," It rasped. It didn't share Connor's voice anymore, it could only make a staticky mechanical sound that imitated speech. "--Both of you will. CyberLife will see to it." 

You got up in its face one last time, making sure it could see your face as you spoke. 


"Amanda? Fuck you. I'm done."

With that, you kicked Caleb in its face, toppling it to its knees. 

Then, its time was up, and Caleb was no more. 

You helped Connor throw its carcass out over the railing of your fire escape, a weight lifted from your shoulders. Connor took your hand and led you away from the window, his voice proud as he spoke. 


"Thank you for standing up for me." His voice turned sheepish as he noticed your eyes on him. "I just--I mean, it's nice to know that you care about me, as much as I care about you."

Your heart stopped long enough for it to be painful before it resumed. 


"Connor, I'm so sorry. For everything. I know you can't possibly forgive me for what I almost did, but--I'm willing to spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you." 

He pretended to think about it before smirking playfully down at you. 


"If we can spend more nights together, indefinitely, consider yourself forgiven." 

You managed to snort with laughter. 


"Baby, if I had my way, I would fuck you every second of every day. But we have to work to survive, so it will have to be limited to nights only." 

He grinned, pulling you close. 


"Well, the moon has risen--so if my calculations are correct, it is my time now." 

Connor nibbled on your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. Your breathing became labored as his hands traveled slowly up and down your sides, tracing the shapes of your ribs lovingly. 


"Connor..." You grasped at his lapels, holding on for dear life. 

He chuckled darkly and slipped his hands to the backs of your knees, lifting you into the air and carrying you to the couch. You raised an eyebrow, but didn't complain as he removed his work uniform. 


"I can't wait that long, Love. I feel as though I'm going to burst if I don't touch you."

His lips collided with yours, but it was much more gentle than the first time you'd been together. His caresses were slow and deliberate, much different than how you'd previously experienced him. 


"I'm going to treat you right this time. I was too hurried and needy before, but now I'm going to ravish you in the way you deserve." His mouth moved over your skin, the words leaving hot trails in their wake. "I love you, and I'm going to make sure you never forget that." 

You shuddered as he pushed into you, moving as slowly as he possibly could while still paying attention to every needy expanse of your skin. Connor left no inch of you alone, his lips and hands tracing shapes over your body as he gently rocked into you. It was so incredibly intimate and beautiful to experience Connor in that way; you finally understood why it was called making love.

You didn't have some incredible, earth-shattering orgasm like you did the first time. You came softly and felt the after-effects long after he'd gotten up to fix you some dinner. It was the long-term kind of feeling, that left you fantasizing about it days afterwards. You knew you wouldn't be able to hold yourself back next time, and that was okay. But you knew, without a doubt, that you loved Connor with all of your heart, and there was nothing you could do about it other than ride it out. 

And though you knew it wasn't going to last forever, you were willing to enjoy it for what it was while it lasted. 

It was certainly a happier ending than you'd ever hoped for, anyways. 

After all, Connor gave you the second chance you never knew you needed. You got your degree in the arts, and fulfilled your dream job with Connor at your side. In the end, you were happy, and life was good.



Chapter Text

"What are you doing here, all alone?" 

You glanced up from your glass to see a tall young man with dark brown hair and soft chocolate eyes. He eyed you curiously, a gentle smile on his face as he regarded you. Ah, not really a man, though--your gaze caught on his languidly spinning blue LED. 

He was the furthest thing possible from a threat. 

You returned his smile and leaned back against the bar, indicating to the sea of people beyond your personal bubble. 


"I'm waiting for mistakes to be made." You raked your eyes up and down his body, enjoying the view that his white and slightly damp dress shirt offered. "What's your name, sweet thing?"


"My name is Connor. I'm the android sent by CyberLife." He paused, watching your open appraisal with confusion. "Are you looking for something, Miss?"

You let out a small chuckle. Oh, he was too precious. You prodded his ankle with your pump-clad foot, getting a better look at him. 


"I'm just enjoying the view, Connor. You're the first android I've seen in these parts. If I'm being honest, I'm hoping you're from Eden Club." You shot him a wink and turned back to face the bar, ordering another Pepsi.

Connor's face flushed and he began stuttering adorably. 


"Um, no, no, ma'am, I'm not from-from-from the Eden Club. I'm here with, with my partner, Hank--" He glanced back and did a double take. "Oh, crap." 


"I take it that's Hank?" You gestured to the man who was punching another patron repeatedly, a growl escaping his throat as he was lifted into the air by another man. 

You whistled through your teeth, cracking your knuckles as you sighed. 


"Well, duty calls. It was nice meeting you, Connor from CyberLife." 

You dove into the fray, pulling the men from Hank and shoving them out the back door into the alley, where your punches could be heard through the wall. 

Connor stood slack-jawed next to your drink and coat, his LED red as he tried to comprehend what just happened. The bartender cackled and spoke to Connor with laughter still on his lips. 


"So, I see you've met our bouncer! Yeah, we're lucky to have her. She blends right in with the clientele, but packs a mighty punch." He snickered and gestured at Hank. "You'd better go get your partner, kiddo."

Connor's Thirium pump fluttered. You left the alley and slammed the door shut behind you, growling in disgust at the mud they'd gotten on your dress. You stalked up to the bar, knuckles cracking out of habit. You slumped back onto your stool, a little winded but otherwise unscathed. 


"I think I'm in love," Connor muttered breathlessly. 

You rolled your eyes. 


"That's what everyone says. What was it, this time?"


"Your fighting was flawless in execution, yet in a very strange brawl-like style. You must tell me your secrets!"


"Heh. I think he's the first one to not say, 'your tits.' Congratulations, Connor. You've got my attention."

Your eyes darted down to the growing bulge in his jeans and you smirked. 


"Why don't we discuss this at my place?"



Chapter Text

If your conscience was to be taken seriously, you were definitely going to hell. 

You'd been a believer ever since you were a kid, and it had been a part of your personality for as long as you could remember. You were fairly straight-laced in most of your professional life, with the exceptions being the occasional Friday night out with the boys. Otherwise, you thought you led a pretty good life as a cop--helping people, protecting the peace, saving Detroit from the evils it contained, and being an all-around good person that upheld her feministic ideals on a regular basis. 

And yet here you were, getting fucked against a wall by the RK800 also known as Connor. 

You had no idea how it had escalated so quickly. One minute, Connor was looking at you with those gorgeous, soulful eyes of his--the next, you were moaning beneath him as he kissed you into oblivion. 

He'd just told you he loved you. You loved him more than words could ever express. But, was it enough? 

Androids couldn't marry humans, so technically, if you were to trust the Bible and everything you'd studied, this was wrong on so many levels. You hoped God would be understanding and recognize that Connor was special, because there was no way you were giving up this puppy of an android. 

You gasped as Connor shifted you against the wall, his fingertips digging into your thighs in the most delicious way. I'm going to hell. I'm going to hell. I'm going to hell. You mentally apologised for everything--the fact that you were essentially using a sex toy, and the fact you couldn't find it in yourself to be sorry about it. So what, you were 'cheating on your future husband,' as your father had put it once--you weren't going to get married unless you could be with Connor, anyways. 

His lips graced against your neck and he whispered sweet nothings into your skin, his voice sending tickling sensations down your spine. You loved his voice possibly above all else, though he was a pretty amazing package altogether. 

His hips stilled and he held you there, skewered against your apartment wall without a care in the world. 

Yeah, you were most likely going to die later and find out it was all for naught--but after tonight, and the promises of many more tomorrow, you couldn't find an ounce of remorse. You loved him, and he loved you. If God couldn't handle that, maybe he wasn't what he claimed to be. 

He kissed a trail over your shoulder until he reached the palm of your hand, his eyes pinning you to the spot. A breath escaped you as you beheld the beauty that was Connor--his bare body was tight and hard, pale and perfect, covered in a sprinkle of adorable freckles from head to toe. Moonlight from your balcony window illuminated his slick chest, giving him an almost ethereal glow. 


"Enjoying the view?" Connor's voice was husky and irresistible. "You look a little starstruck." 

You struggled for breath, forgetting momentarily that you had to do so to survive. 


"I--I love you, Connor. Damn the consequences." You buried your hands in his hair, your eyes moistening with the confession. "Baby, I love you so much."

His expression softened and he kissed you chastely. 


"You're my whole world." His words made you lose any grip on your emotions that you might've had. 

You were crying now, and you couldn't stop. You tightened your legs around his waist, holding him as close as you possibly could while you peppered his face with tiny kisses. If there was ever a doubt about how you felt, it was gone. You loved Connor with the entirety of your being, and you were never going to let him go. 

He carried you to your room and held you until you could pull yourself together enough to notice the bedroom eyes he had. He grinned and gently stroked your thigh, raising his eyebrows in a question. 


"What, once wasn't enough?" You laughed. 


"Never. You're addicting." 

As if to prove his own point, he leapt forward and kissed you passionately. 


"I'm quite demanding of a relationship, Detective. And you'll be pleased to find that I don't tire." 

You snickered to yourself. 


"Well, that sounds familiar." You waved off his puzzled expression. "Never mind, baby. Come here." 

He complied and you were soon caught in the throes of his body once more. 

You were much more deliberate and slow this time, enjoying the planes of him as he pressed you into your sheets. Connor took his time with you, working you to your orgasm with a languid pace and lazy touches to every sensitve area he could reach. You gasped softly, whispering his name into his hair. 


"Where did you learn to fuck like this?" 

He nuzzled your neck, a smile pulling at his lips. 


"The internet is an infinite source of knowledge." 

You groaned. 


"Don't say PornHub." 


"No, actually. A few books written by female doctors on the anatomy of woman, believe it or not. For example--" He tweaked your clit sharply, eliciting a yelp from you. "--The clitoris is a severely under appreciated area in most sexual encounters. Many men don't even know it exists."

Your nails raked down his back as he walked you through his learning process. You were a writhing, panting mess by the time he pulled out of you. Connor grinned down at you smugly. 


"And I didn't even cover oral pleasures." He shrugged and left to retrieve a damp cloth. You whined at his absence. "Tomorrow, Love." 

He gently cleaned you and dressed you in a pair of pajamas, his gaze soft as he watched you drift off to sleep in his arms. You slept like a baby, a content smile on your face as you held him close.

At least you'd be going to hell a happy woman.



Chapter Text

The door slid shut behind Connor with a small click. 

He didn't know how he'd allowed himself to be whisked away to your apartment. He'd had every intention of interrogating you and bringing you to Hank, and yet somehow you'd managed to find the backdoor to his programming. You made him act like a smitten puppy following its master. 

Perhaps that's all he was.

Connor surveyed your home with interest, noting the contemporary blue decor and the lack of any male presence. In fact, that was about all he had time to see before the problem in his pants became all he could focus on. Connor swallowed thickly, his eyes landing on you with heavy lids. 


He couldn't explain it, perhaps it was chemistry, admiration, or pure animalistic lust--but whatever it was that drew him closer, he was powerless to stop himself as he crushed his mouth onto yours. You opened your lips and explored him with fervor, your hands ripping at his tie in an effort to rid him of his clothing. He mimicked your movements, unzipping your dress and letting you step out of it before unfastening your bra as well. You smirked against his lips. 


"Do this often, Connor?"

He released a heavy breath, his fingertips digging into the flesh at your waist. 


"First time, actually." He unbuttoned his shirt quickly and methodically, his eyes dark with want. "I didn't even know I could feel this way." 

Connor indicated to his tented jeans, a playful smile on his lips. You undid his belt hastily, allowing his cock to spring free as you slid away his pants. Without hesitation Connor traced his hands all over you, his touch deliberate and focused on making you come undone. You gasped softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. He picked you up and put you on your couch, his eyes hungry as he took you in. 


"I get to take the infamous Deviant Hunter's virginity?" Your laughter died on your lips when Connor's tongue found itself at your core. 



Your breathing became ragged as he met your gaze from between the apex of your thighs. His expression was smug as he pulled sounds from you that even you had no idea you were capable of making. He whispered your name into your folds, his teeth hitting the sensitive flesh in a way that sent shivers down your spine. Connor pressed your hips into the couch firmly, keeping you in place while his tongue delicately danced with your clit. 



Your fingers curled into fists, gripping the fabric of your couch as your spine arched against his touch. He chuckled into your heat, his fingertips gently pressing into your skin. 


"Hold still, baby..." Connor purred. "I'm not done with you yet."

Jesus, his voice was doing things to you. If you had your way, he would've already fucked you against the wall twice by now--but he wanted it to be intimate and slow, so by damn, you were going to control yourself and make him be happy. After all, when were you ever going to get another chance like this?


"Please--!" You'd never begged before. In fact, this was a total role reversal. "Connor, please!"

He grinned at you from between your legs, his mouth slicked with your arousal. He slipped two fingers inside of you, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Well... Damn. If he wanted to be dominant, let him. So far, it was working rather in your favor. Maybe you wanted to let him take control. 

Okay, that was a lie. 

You buried your fingers in his hair and shoved his face further into your heat with a frustrated growl. He'd made you beg. Was that something you could live with? That remained to be seen. If you were going to come undone beneath him, it had to be on your own terms. Connor snickered and lapped at you harder, his hands gripping your thighs more tightly. 

Your walls collapsed on themselves and you convulsed in pleasure, your body becoming drenched in sweat. You released Connor and fell back against the couch with a satisfied sigh. 



You pried open one eye to see Connor kneeling between your legs, his expression nearly unreadable as he fell onto all fours above you. His body was wound tight as a spring. Connor's tip brushed your stomach as he leaned down to devour your mouth. He pulled back long enough for you to raise an eyebrow at him curiously. 


"You're so beautiful. You do things to me." He bit the side of your neck, his tongue darting out to taste the wound. "Your voice is intoxicating to me." 

He angled his hips so that he was aligned with your entrance. You spread your legs wider for him, your hands flying to his hips in a challenge. 


"What are you waiting for, RK800?" You growled.

Connor couldn't hold himself back any longer. He grabbed your waist roughly and sank into you with a shuddering gasp, his eyelids flying open as he sat back. Your legs locked around him, holding him in place as he rocked back and forth. 

It was something you never thought you'd be doing. 

Hell, you'd read that android sex was the new rave--but you never anticipated that you'd have the pleasure of experiencing it for yourself. After all, you were a bouncer on the rough side of town--your neighborhood was too poor for people to have cars, let alone androids. But--fuck if it wasn't the best thing that had ever happened to you. 

Connor fell forward again, rotating his hips and kissing the skin beneath your ears. His hands rose to tweak your breasts languidly before you put your hands over his, encouraging him to increase his pace. He chuckled and moved faster, working you into a heavy mess before the pressure snapped in your core. 

You threw your head back and cried out, Connor's name dying on your lips as you collapsed against your couch. 

He followed suit and soon you were flush against one another, the hard planes of Connor's body cool against your overheating core.


"Tired so soon?" He teased. He kissed your cheek softly, a smile tugging at one side of his mouth. "You achieved two orgasms. Would you like to continue?" 

You huffed, laughter escaping you as you ran your fingers through his hair slowly.


"Sexy, if you were up for it, I'd fuck you all night long. However--!" Connor paused in his movement as you held up your pointer finger, "I have a feeling your partner will be walking through that door any minute."


"Are you sure?" He kissed your hickeys. "Or is there something else stopping you?"


"Babe, you're the first entity to ever make sex enjoyable for me. I'm not going to let you go easily. But--" You froze as a knock sounded from the hallway.



Connor scrambled to sit up, still embedded in you. His LED spun red as he tried to preconstruct a way out of this, but he, too, was frozen like a deer in headlights as Hank kicked open the door. 


"Conn--!" Hank stopped. 

Yep. Connor was still balls deep in the witness, His LED flickering red and his very toned chest heaving. 


"Lieutenant, I can explain!"


"Fuck, Connor! I can't fucking believe you! Shit, why are you fucking the witness!?" Hank held up his hands so he wasn't looking at either of you, "No, no, shit, I don't wanna know. Get dressed, we're leaving. Now." 

Hank turned his back on you, growling under his breath. When neither of you moved, he shouted. 


"Did I fucking stutter? Get moving!"


"Lieutenant, I was trying to get information. I could just finish my investigation with her here, rather than wasting the time to get to the station--"

Hank jabbed a finger at Connor.


"You aren't gonna finish this case! Reed's going to question this witness, you lost your chance!" Hank ran a hand down his face with a disgusted snarl. "Just get moving, you plastic son of a bitch." 

You bit back a snicker as you caught sight of Connor mimicking Hank behind his back. Connor reluctantly slid out of you and began pulling on his uniform. He helped you get dressed as well, sending you a silent wink as he fastened your shoes.

You regretted nothing. 



Chapter Text

"Wait--No, you've gotta be fucking kidding. There ain't no way in hell that she's a virgin," Reed snorted. (He wasn't even talking directly to you, but to the others around you. Rude.) "Hey, Hank, back me up here! She's way too fucking cute to be a virgin, am I right?" 

Hank glared at Gavin Reed with a seething hatred. 


"As my daughter, I'd better fucking hope she's still a virgin." He sent you a warning glare before crossing his arms over his chest. 


"Reed, you can fuck off. So I've still got my V-card, what does it matter? It's not like I'm any less capable than you. I can still kick your ass in--well, pretty much everything." 

Gavin ignored your obvious jab at his ego. 


"Damn, I guess the guys at your high school must've been real pussies to overlook you."

You lowered your gaze, insecurities seeping in to the back of your mind. In high school, you'd focused entirely on your studies. Boys weren't on the forefront of your interests, and thus, never noticed if they liked you or not. But, considering four years of braces, glasses, and a penchant for being aggressive with your intellect, it was no surprise that your metamorphosis occurred outside of the norm. 

Now with perfectly straight teeth, a proper knowledge of how to use makeup without looking like a clown, and clothes that fit, it was also no surprise that you suddenly started to attract male attention. With no fucking idea what to do with it. No boyfriends, no lovers, no experience. Fucking perfect. 


"I wasn't attractive in high school. That's that, and it's in the past." You crossed your arms over your chest, arching your back to meet Gavin's height.


"Alright, alright. I get it. Maybe you just need someone to show you how it's done." He lifted his eyebrows as he raked his gaze up and down your well-fitting uniform.


"Make no mistake, Reed: I will not hesitate to shoot you if you decide to get handsy." 

He lifted his hands in surrender, his smirk annoying the hell out of you for what he was implying. You knew exactly what was going through his mind, and Connor had to quickly step in front of you for fear of what you were capable of doing. He handed Hank his coffee while chastising Reed. 


"Detective Reed, I think you should desist with this line of thought. Obviously it makes Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Anderson uncomfortable." 

Gavin's face twisted into a snarl upon seeing Connor. 


"Why don't you back off, you plastic prick?"


Suddenly, you had an idea.

A wonderful idea.

An awful... dreadful idea.

Your eyes roved over Connor's wide back thoughtfully, biting your lip absently. It wasn't like you hadn't thought about it. After all, Connor was a fucking babe. Your mouth quirked up in a small Grinchlike grin, and Hank glared at you. He seemed to know your tells. 


"Don't you fucking think about it," Hank snarled at you, interrupting Gavin's anti-android tirade long enough to catch the attention of both man and android.

Their interest was irrevocably piqued. 


"Think about what?" Connor asked. 

Hank didn't answer, only stared you down as you continued grinning. 


"Reed, I have a question. If I were to punch my V-card, would you stop ridiculing me for it?" 

He narrowed his eyes. 


"Maybe. Depends on whether or not I'm going to be included." 

You scrunched your nose. 


"Ew, no. Chris, what about you? Would you keep Gav off of my back if I lost it?"

Officer Miller glanced between the four of you, having been a silent observer up until then. He shrugged, seeming to catch on a little. 


"Sure. You can hold me to it. Anything to beat up Reed." 

You couldn't stop grinning. 


"Connor... would you be willing to help me out?" 

His LED spun hazardously from red to yellow a few times as he processed the possible semantics of your question. Upon his conclusion, he gulped, his eyes wide. 


"Uh--hel--hel--help you with what?" 

Hank threw his hands in the air in disgust and stormed away. Connor's eyes darted between the two Andersons, one looking murderous and the other sultry. Was there even a way to get out of this alive? He seriously doubted it.


"Well, Connor, you see--" You stepped closer, laying your palms on his chest and sliding them up to rest on his shoulders, "I've known you longer than anyone in the department other than Hank. You're one of my dearest friends, I trust you with my life. And maybe... just maybe... If I have to have sex, I would like it to be with someone I enjoy."

You flashed your teeth slyly. 


"And I think you're sexy as hell. I've just never had the nerve nor the reason to tell you until now."

Gavin nearly punched your lights out. 


"Really? Connor? Sexy is the last word I would ever use to describe him. Dopey and annoying, more like."

Connor's LED hadn't stopped spinning red ever since you started touching him. But, he didn't look averse to your advances; if anything, he seemed eager


"Ignore him, he's stupid." You waved off Gavin flippantly. "What do you say, Connor?"

His eyes narrowed a fraction, determination sliding over his features and transforming his body language signficantly. He caught your wrists in his hands, lacing his fingers with your own. 


"Detective Anderson," He purred, "It would be my absolute pleasure." 

Chris cheered and smacked Gavin upside the head as you laughed like a madwoman. 



Despite the fact that it was only Connor, you were still a little terrified. As often as you'd dreamt of his touch, you were entirely foreign to the concept of intimacy. You'd had no significant partners in your life, no boyfriends or girlfriends on your record, and you only knew how people were supposed to act from movies, tv, and books. You were effectively at Level 0 of Flirting & Dating.

You ground your thighs together, wishing you hadn't been stupid enough to wear a short black dress. It was October, for crying out loud, and it was already freezing. It was a mistake, indeed, but you'd wanted to look enticing for Connor. After all, this was the android you'd been absolutely besotted with for the past three years. 


Upon deviancy, androids' senses exploded into accuracy. They were capable of taste, touch, smell, sight as never before. They could taste food, they could smell with comprehension, they could see the millions of colors humans could. They could comprehend music and enjoy it. Kamski, being the enlightened being he was, released an update for all deviants that allowed them to attach the phalli of their choice. So, technically, if Connor so chose, he could actually exist as a man, with the only difference being the color of his blood and his endoskeleton.

There had even been rumors of deviants experiencing dreams and the ability to sleep.


"Detective Anderson." 

You were shook from your thoughts by Connor's voice. He stood uncertainly, holding a bouquet of orchids and peonies. He smiled at you softly and presented them to you. 

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes but you choked them down. Connor had insisted on taking you on a date before continuing with the arrangement. He had really gone the whole nine yards: he was dressed in a rather impressive navy blue suit, with fitted trousers, a white button-down dress shirt, and light brown dress shoes that matched the belt around his waist. He offered you his arm and you walked to the Contemporary Art Museum of Detroit as the sun set. 


You spent hours just talking and wandering through the museum until it closed. All warmed up to his presence, you started to think about how great his ass looked in those trousers. 

Connor caught your glance and snickered softly. 


"That eager, huh?" 


"Pshh. Are you kidding? You're gorgeous." 

He blushed and did his best not to stammer. 


"Mm--I, I, I'm glad you feel that way, Detective." He ducked his head in embarrassment, kicking the sidewalk in front of your apartment. "I happen to find you aesthetically pleasing, as well." 

Now it was your turn to stumble. You nearly dropped your keys in your haste to formulate an intelligent response. You gave up on intelligent and settled on (what you hoped it was a) seductive smile. 

Connor shut the door behind him and started stalking towards you. His movements were slow and methodical, the gleam in his eye dangerous. You found your heartbeat becoming erratic as you backed towards your bedroom. Connor pinned you against a wall before you could make it, though. 


"I've actually been wanting this longer than I'd care to admit," Connor murmured.

He watched you within your cage, his hair tickling your skin as he dipped his head to kiss your neck. 


"Me, too." You gasped when you felt his tongue dart out from between those sinful lips. "Connor, have you done this before?"

He pulled back to look at you, surprise etched on his face. 


"I--Does it matter?" His LED spun as though he was genuinely worried. "I've done my research, Detective. I know my body and exactly what to do with it." 

His lips fell into an almost teasing expression. 


"Can you say the same, Detective Anderson?"

And there it was--his mouth was pressed to your skin once more, and his hands slid from the wall to caress your arms in greeting. Connor's mouth kissed a trail from your neck up your jawline to your lips, leaving a path of zinging nerves in his wake. His kiss was exhilarating, and you had to wonder just how much of this was a part of his original programming. 

You leaned into the kiss, your tongue tentatively meeting his as you explored one another. His simulated breathing quickened, and you slipped your hands up to begin unbuttoning his shirt. He intercepted you, did it himself (much faster than you were capable of with your eyes closed) and relieved you of your dress in what seemed to be one, fluid movement. 

Connor shucked off his pants and you felt his bare body press against your skin, a ripple of shock coursing through you. This was happening much quicker than you'd thought. 

You moaned and gasped, your blood pumping faster throughout your body. 


"Connor. Bed." 

He understood and swept you into his arms, carrying you to your room bridal-style. Connor's mouth never left yours. He set you on your bed gently before crawling on top of you, his smile sweet and... almost loving. But that was impossible... right? 

You didn't have time to contemplate the implications of his smile, for Connor chose that moment to trace those sinful lips up your inner thigh to rest at the joining of your legs. Air left your lungs when he flicked your clit with his tongue. 


"Jesus--!" You chewed on your bottom lip to prevent uncouth sounds from escaping your throat. 

Connor licked a stripe up your slit, actually eliciting a scream from you this time. He smirked and slipped his tongue in further, your nerves singing with the contact.

Before tonight, you'd used only one vibrator, and it wasn't exactly pleasurable for your lack of experience. But in Connor's adept hands, you were bound to go into work without your voice tomorrow. 

You struggled to keep your voice down, your eyes darting to your front door. You had very mean neighbors, and if you were too loud, they could get you kicked out. 

What, what would you say
If you could say
Everything you needed to
To the one you needed to?
You flash like a setting sun
You come around, I come undone
Can't find the sound under my tongue when I look at you

He swirled his tongue around your clit teasingly and inserted two fingertips, and after waiting for you to acclimate, slid them in further. Whew. It was definitely different than anything else you'd experienced. He patted your stomach reassuringly, seeming to see the apprehension on your face. 


"If you ever want me to stop, please tell me." 


"No, Connor--" You gasped and nearly choked on the words. "Please--don't ever stop."

His eyebrows shot up and he sat back, his gaze searching your face. 


"This isn't just about losing your virginity to someone you trust, is it?" His whisper was soft, eyes like melted chocolate. 

You shook your head, tears pulling at your ducts. 


"I--I love you, Connor." 

The way Connor looked at you, with his doe-soft eyes and smile that was barely a whisper--you couldn't help but understand the meaning of lovesick. 


"As a deviant, I find I have trouble describing my emotions accurately," He said carefully. "However... Whenever I think of you, all I want is to see your smile and be the source of it. I yearn for your happiness, to be a part of your life whenever I can. I don't know if what I feel is, indeed, love--but I can scarcely imagine my life without you. I ache to feel you breathe and hear you speak, to see your smile and know your laughter."

I lose my voice when I look at you
Can't make a noise though I'm trying to

You laughed, a pitiful, croaky sound, as tears spilled over your cheeks. 

Just another lovesick afternoon
Black butterflies and déjà vu
Hoping for the right words
Waiting for the right words

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, the two of you kneeling on your bed. 


"I dunno. That sounds like love to me." 

If you hadn't known any better, you would've thought Connor was crying. Maybe he was, or maybe it was just you. Either way, you didn't care. 

You collapsed back against your pillows and spread your legs, your cheeks still damp from your recent confessions. Connor fell onto all fours and suspended himself above you, his eyes soft and reverent as he took in every detail of your face. Connor pressed his tip against your opening and he searched your eyes for permission; you hooked your ankles behind his hips, nodding softly. 

With a satisfied growl, he sank into you heavily, knocking the air out of you. It was more difficult than you'd previously imagined. He was bigger than you'd anticipated and your breathing was shallow as you tried to adjust to this sudden foreign presence in your body. He waited patiently, though artificial sweat was beading at his temple. 

You patted his arm reassuringly and he began to slowly rock back and forth, pausing when you cried in pain and moving again when you confirmed you were okay. It went on like this for a while, with Connor working you slowly but surely up to your release. You collapsed, spent, and felt a stirring as Connor slid from you and pulled you against him in a hug. 


"Are you okay?" He whispered into your hair. 


"I'm fine, Connor. I'm just new to this, is all." You winced when you noticed the mess you'd made. "Sorry." 


"Darling, don't be sorry. A little blood is normal the first time." Connor kissed your neck lovingly. "You did great." 

You couldn't help but snicker. 


"You're the one with the praise kink, not me."







Chapter Text

Connor tied the blindfold around your eyes, his laughter dark and his touch soft. Your breathing became rapid and shallow; you couldn’t see him anymore, you couldn’t hear him, and he was no longer touching you. You hated how powerless this felt. Maybe this was why Connor wanted the tables to be turned for once.

Music began playing in the distance, an old song you vaguely recognised from your angsty teenage years.

If you were being completely honest, you were terrified. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Connor—you would trust him with your life. You just hated not having control. It was in your nature, you were bossy just like your dad.

Maybe it was a good thing to surrender every once in a while. At least it meant you didn’t really have to do anything. (Well, Connor had you cuffed to the bedpost, so you couldn’t really do anything if you wanted to.) All that was left was to await Connor’s return. 

Soft footfalls announced he was back. Connor traced shapes over your bare stomach, swirling his fingertip gently over the skin as goosebumps erupted over your flesh in response. 


“Are you going to be good for me, baby?” 


“Yes, Connor.” You gritted your teeth against the urge to bite back sarcastically. “I promise.”


“Perfect.” He purred. “You’re perfect.”

You shivered at his voice, need blossoming in your panties. He knew that he drove you wild when he took that tone. 

His hands slid to caress your sides, feeling each rib as he went down your body. 


“Maybe I’ll let you have your surprise early. You promised you’d behave…”

He cooed at your physical response, the way you arched into his touch, the sounds you made. He laughed softly and removed your blindfold. 

You got an eyeful of... Ah shit. Connor must've delved into the bad parts of the internet. He held a set of costumes proudly, with a smug look on his face. Apparently, he wanted to try some roleplay. 


"Do you want to start with Murderer and Detective? Or, perhaps I can put a collar around that pretty neck--"


"Murderer and Detective, for the love of God," You whimpered. The last thing on earth you wanted was for Connor to turn into a furry.

He smirked, seemingly catching your discomfort. 


"Alright, baby." He unlocked your hands to allow you to change, and left to get into his costume as well. 

When he returned, he was wearing a very revealing police officer outfit. A partially unbuttoned blue cop dress shirt, a hat that sat askew on his head, and garters connected to a sparkling black thong. A set of holsters hugged his chest, strapping the unbuttoned part of his shirt in place. You had to make sure you didn't drool all over yourself, considering the beautiful chest and abdomen exposed to you. Your own costume was a blood-splatered bodice with a vinyl miniskirt, leather jacket, and heels. He cuffed your hands together and sat you down in a chair in the middle of the room. 

Connor's voice dropped into his Negotiator tone, his face hardening despite the ridiculous outfit. 


"Miss Anderson. You were caught at the scene of the crime, covered in the blood of your victim. I don't need a confession, but I will get one." He licked his lips and eyed you up and down, as though analyzing you. 


"You don't understand, Detective. I came upon him like that! He was spurting blood like a faucet, the murderer couldn't have gotten far!" You simpered, sure to take big, gasping breaths that would send your breasts straining against the corset. "I can't remember who it was, though! So much stress, finding a dead man in my house, you know. Muddles the mind." 


"That's a crying shame. Leaving you as the only suspect." Connor paced around you, his expression predatory. "I wonder how I could possibly get the information out of you?" 

You raked your eyes over his frame, letting your gaze rest suggestively on his thong, before meeting his eyes. 


"Well... You're a very handsome detective. I'm sure we can work something out." You winked. 

He took a step back, as though scandalized. 


"Miss Anderson! How dare you suggest such a thing! You're a suspect in a murder case, and if not guilty, you're still a key witness. Nonetheless, I must act as though you are the criminal!"

You sucked on your teeth. 


"My memory might be more inclined to clear if I were to relieve some of the stress." You spread your legs suggestively, parting your thighs in a way that strained the miniskirt substantially. "Care to guess what my favorite method of catharisis is?" 

Connor pretended to glare at you, but he couldn't keep the smirk off of his face. You inspected your nails nonchalantly, making sure he could see all of the important parts of your anatomy.


"I pray I'm not making a grave mistake, Miss Anderson." He growled. "On all fours. Now." 

You held out your bound wrists expectantly and he chuckled darkly. 


"I may be willing to do just about anything for a confession, but I'm not stupid, Miss Anderson. The handcuffs stay." 

You shrugged and moved to the bed to kneel on all fours. You heard him stroke himself and had to bite back a sound of anticipation. Connor's fingers slipped into your miniskirt to tweak your clit and tease your opening. 


"So wet for me already?" Connor's voice took on a gravelly quality. "How long has it been since anyone took care of you?"

You chortled. 


"Baby, far too long." 

He didn't answer. Instead, he dove into your folds with a throaty growl. His hands roughly gripped your thighs and lifted your cheeks, giving him better access to your depths. You didn't hold back the obscene sounds that escaped you, allowing him to drink up every moan and gasp. If Hank came home, you'd be absolutely fucked--but you couldn't bring yourself to care as Connor jackhammered into your core. 

You tightened around him and he gasped softly, pressing his chest into your back and nibbling on your earlobe. He rocked into you with an urgency that was unprecedented, as though he sensed the late hour and Hank's imminent return. 

Your walls convulsed and he came to his own release, grinding into you with the aftershocks still coursing through you. Connor hissed in satisfaction, his hands gripping the joint of thigh and hip. 


"Honey? I'm home!" 

The two of you froze, hoping Hank wouldn't be curious if he got no response. 

No such luck. 

Hank's footsteps could be heard clomping down the hardwood towards your room. 

Connor's eyes widened and he frantically attempted to right himself. 


"I didn't lock the door!" He hissed. 

Connor was standing upright finally when Hank opened your door. Still balls deep, Connor attempted to save face by hiding you with his body. 


"Hone--Connor. What the fuck are you doing." Hank's voice was dark and--oof. Dad Mode. 


"Ah, good evening, Lieutenant! I didn't hear you come in!" He seemed to realize his state of undress and grinned sheepishly. "Ah. You're wondering about--this. Yes, well. Your daughter left a present for me on the table and I assumed--!" 


"Don't you fucking dare blame the outfit on me!" The words were out before you could stop yourself. "Um--hi, dad. You should probably leave. Just go to Jimmy's. You don't wanna see me like this."


"LikE WHAT THE FUCK!" Hank caught a glimpse of the fact that Connor was still buried to the hilt in his daughter. "CONNOR I SWEAR I'M GOING TO MURDER YOU!" 


"I would advise against that, Lieutenant," Connor cheekily quipped. "If you did, you would have to see my phallus, and I doubt you're ready to endure that." 


"Shut up, Connor. Dad, I'm sorry. You know I love him, and you love him, too. Just--go calm down." 

Hank didn't even bother sounding angry anymore, just resigned. He glared at Connor, who sent him a jovial wave, before frowning at you.


"What ever happened to waiting until marriage, huh?" He shook his head in disgust. 


"Dad. I legally can't marry Connor. I plan on it the second those asinine laws are repealed, but until then--" You shrugged. "I'm getting the lease on my apartment finalized tomorrow. I'll be out of your hair soon enough, and you won't have to worry about this anymore."

Hank growled and flipped off Connor one more time before slamming the door shut behind him. 


"That went surprisingly well." Connor mused. 


"Hah. Out of the fifty different ways it's gone before, it wasn't the worst." 




"Hank's got a penchant for walking in on--oh, wait, nevermind. Forget it." 

Connor pinched his eyebrows in confusion, but let the matter drop. He smirked and tilted his hips, stirring deep within you and reminding you of his presence. 


"Ready for round two?" Connor purred. 







I never thought I'd end up drawing something like this, but here it is. You're welcome. Here's Connor in his lil outfit. It's not entirely accurate but it's all the detail I could fit without it ruining the shirt. And lol idk the random glitter was because I don't know how to make backgrounds, hnngg. I hope you enjoy the 2am vent sketch of an RK800 android in a sexy costume.




If you are inspired by a one-shot, draw the heck out of it. You have my permission. If you do something, show me! My tumblr is freelynerdyslytherin and I love seeing what inspired people to create stuff.

Chapter Text

It had to be fate. Connor couldn't suss out any other explanation, which was incredibly rare for him. 

He had taken Markus on a walk to get away from the other denizens of Jericho--they could be so suffocating after a while, all of those tortured souls-- and so he could breathe air that didn't stink of death. 

You were standing on a bridge, peering over the edge. Markus had called out immediately. He knew the look in your eyes. It was something he'd seen in the mirror many times. 


"Hey!" Markus' voice commanded your attention, despite your better efforts to be invisible. 

You were a sight to behold. Hair shaved close to your skull, with skin that seemed to glow with sadness and anger and pure, raw emotion. Eyes that sparked with a fire that seemed to hate the world and everything in it. Despite the obvious anguish you were experiencing, you were beautiful--even in your broken and harsh state of mind.

You met his eyes, your own hollow and cold. You regarded the two men emotionlessly, unimpressed with what you saw. 


"Whatever you're feeling, I can guarantee you that it isn't bad enough to do what you're thinking," Connor intoned. His heart broke for the amount of hopelessness that your body language held.


"And I can guarantee you that you're wrong." Haunted eyes danced between Markus and Connor. Your stress levels meant you were on the verge of self-destruction.


"Death isn't all it's cracked up to be," Connor insisted. "I've died several times. It's painful and nothing good comes out of it."

Your lip curled and you snarled at him.


"What would you know of death? You're an android. Androids don't die, they can never really be lost. Your consciousness is always backed up to CyberLife." You clenched your fists around the sleeves of your sweater. "You don't know what I'm feeling. Anything is better than this."


"That's where you're wrong," Markus interrupted. He was inching closer with each passing minute. "There is so much to live for. There are millions of books that wait to be read, movies to be seen, people to meet--!"

He gestured wildly, but upon seeing your dead eyes, he changed tactics. 


"Miss Anderson, I promise you--"


"Anderson?" Connor's LED spun red. "Would that be in relation to Hank Anderson? The police lieutenant?"

You narrowed your eyes. 


"Yeah. He's my dad. He doesn't know it. Mom never told him." 

Connor seemed genuinely horrified for you. Odd.


"Hank is my partner at the DPD. I can absolutely guarantee you that the last thing he'd want is to lose another child." His face fell. "It nearly broke him, the last time."


"Another child." Your interest was piqued. "What do you mean?"


"Cole Anderson. Your brother." Markus was so close, he could almost touch you. Just a few more steps. "He died in surgery after a car accident. He was six years old." 

Your face contorted. You didn't want to--to feel this anymore. You wanted to be done.


"If you have nothing else to live for, live for Hank." Connor projected a picture of Hank, smiling. You saw his face and something ached in your chest. 


"No one loves me. Not anymore." You backed towards the edge, tears pooling at your eyes. "Mom's gone. Eric's gone. Everyone is gone."

You glared at your feet as fresh tears salted the ground. 


"He told me he loved me, that he would take care of me and help me through my depression. He lied. The bastard was an emotional manipulator." You brought your anguished gaze up to meet Markus' and Connor's in turn. "Love doesn't exist. Love isn't real. It's a pipe dream for the weak-minded and the delusional. There is only lust and chemistry in real life." 

Markus grasped your wrist and pulled you into him, spinning you away from the edge of the bridge. You raged against his hard chest, but soon your fists fell feebly against him. Sobs wracked your frame and you melted into Markus' embrace, sandwiched between the two androids. 


"I am sorry someone loved you badly, and that they made you feel like you take up more space than you deserve. I am sorry they abandoned you when you need them the most and it has made you believe that love is an awful thing that hurts."


"Why couldn't you just let me die?" You rasped. "Anyone else would have." 


"Life is valuable," Markus whispered. "Yours, especially." 

Connor pressed a reassuring kiss to the back of your neck. You flinched against his lips. You knew this android was not Eric, not the man that made you the shell of a woman you were today; and yet, you still found yourself to be terrified


"Let's get her to Hank's place," Connor suggested. "She'll be safe there." 


"I'm right here, you dirty bastard," You sobbed. "I'm not fucking invisible!" 


"Quite right, Connor. Miss Anderson, would you do us the pleasure of accompanying us to your father's house?" Markus' eyes twinkled at you as he held you in his arms. 

Despite yourself, it was impossible to ignore how beautiful his eyes were: one blue, one green. And that smile--it was as though you'd known him for years, as though the two of you shared countless secrets. 

Connor placed his hand at the small of your back, and you finally noticed--Jesus, he looked like a lost puppy. His soft doe eyes were sheathed in long lashes that were too pretty for their own good. 

The two androids never let go of you the whole walk to Hank's. If one wasn't holding your hand or touching your back, the other one surely was. It was the physical contact you'd been starved of for so long, everything you needed, wanted, and craved. 


You didn't know how to react when you arrived at Hank's place. You wanted them to keep touching you, but once inside, Hank shoved them aside to get a better look at you. 


"Oh my God. Oh my God." Hank seemed on the verge of tears as he inspected you, "You look so much like your mother." 

You assumed Connor had notified your dad of the situation on the way there. 


"Not anymore." 

Hank's expression fell. He didn't know, then. Oops. Guess it made sense, your mom had never wanted help from anyone. Least of all, her sperm donor. 

You knew you looked a right mess, but the only thing you could think about was Markus' lips, Connor's voice, and what you wanted to do to each. 


"Kiddo, I gotta go to work. I promise I'll be home soon, okay? I'll come back about four and I'll make you dinner and you'll tell me all about yourself. Promise me." 

He knew what it was like to want to end it. You appreciated his efforts, if nothing else. 


"Okay, Hank. See you later." 

Hank smiled at you, running his hand down your scalp to press your forehead to his. He turned to Connor and Markus, his expression turning serious. 


"Would you mind spending the day with her, at least until I get back?" 


"Don't you need me, Hank?" Connor tilted his head to one side, curiosity pinching his eyebrows together. 


"If I do, I'll call ya. Right now, my daughter needs support that I can't give her. Just... take care of her?" He sounded desperate. Hank wasn't ready to lose a daughter he just gained. 

You rolled your eyes. I'm right here, guys. Nevertheless, Markus and Connor nodded. Hank left with one more tentative glance in your direction, his footsteps receding down the creaky steps and into the misty morning. 


"So, what do you want to do?" Connor smiled at you placidly, his LED a solid blue. 

He's too cute. 


"That's easy. You." You snickered to yourself and slapped your knee, leaning back into the couch as your amusement shook your small frame.

You peeked at Connor to see his LED turning red and cheeks turning blue. Markus afforded himself a laugh, too. 


"You walked right into that one, Connor." He chuckled. "I like you, already." 


"Thanks. Been a long time since anyone said that." You forced yourself to beam at them, recognising your beginning descent into Debbie Downer territory. "No lie, though. Both of you are incredibly attractive. Sometimes I think CyberLife likes giving people heart attacks." 


"I was designed to seamlessly integrate into human life. Each aspect of my appearance has been carefully created to allow harmonious interaction with humans." Connor shifted under your amused gaze. 


"Yes, well," You crossed your legs and stacked your hands on your knee, "CyberLife is very good at their job."


"Hank said he thinks Connor is goofy-looking," Markus supplied. He grinned impishly at Connor. 


"Markus!" Connor's LED spun yellow as he glared at the android sitting on your left. 


"That didn't offend you, before. You're more deviant than you care to admit." Markus sat back and lightly smacked the back of Connor's head.


"Deviancy suits the both of you. Though I must admit, I wouldn't mind seeing either of you in Eden. Love to take you for a test drive, if you know what I mean." You laughed and elbowed them, but neither moved. "Earth to androids--You okay?"

Markus scrutinized your expression intently. 


"Miss Anderson, you keep making jokes about it. Are you really so ready to take us on a 'test drive'?" His mouth quirked up on one side. "You might regret that." 


"I sincerely doubt that I would regret anything involving you two." 

Before you could blink, Connor's lips were on yours. 

It was as though an invisible starting pistol had been fired, because Connor and Markus were on you faster than you could comprehend. Markus kissed your neck hungrily, his hands gripping your waist and thigh. Connor cupped your face in his palm, his mouth dancing on yours. 

You would've thought you'd died and gone to heaven, but that was impossible--these two had saved your life not an hour before.

You moaned into Connor's mouth, your fingers burying themselves in his hair. You shifted in your seat so that you were sitting on Markus' lap, grinding your ass into his thigh. Connor yelped as you explored him boldy, raking your hands over his shoulders and tracing his chest with your palms. Connor was tugging at his clothes, so you turned to pay attention to Markus. His eyes seemed to sparkle in the sunlight, flashing like stones of jade and aquamarine. His mouth was just as sinful as Connor's, effortlessly experienced and able to make you squirm. 

Connor stood from the couch and pressed his tip against your still-clothed ass. You glanced over your shoulder and had to do a double take. So... Connor was pretty impressive. Washboard stomach with a finely sculpted V leading perfectly towards his erection. You grinned and twisted to meet him halfway. Markus began removing your clothes, pulling your tank top over your head and tossing it on the floor. 

You sucked on the junction between Connor's neck and his shoulder, leaving a hickey that quickly disappeared. You clucked in disappointment. 


"Well, that's a shame." You bit hard enough to draw a few drops of blood, eliciting a hiss from Connor. "I wanted to see the explanation you would have give Hank."

Markus snickered behind you, himself now bare as well. You twisted to see his free member, and your eyes widened. Holy shit. Holy shit.

Both Connor and Markus were well-endowed, but you never suspected that Markus would be so ready, so soon. You smirked and rotated on the balls of your feet to face him. 


"Damn, Markus." You snickered. "All of that, for little old me? I'm not even at my best." 

He hooked his hands at the bend of your knees and lifted you into the air, adjusting your position so that you barely rested at his tip. 


"If this is how you look at your worst, I can only imagine how amazing you look at your finest." 

Without prelude, he let you fall onto him. 

You gasped heavily, your breathing altered as you struggled to accept his presence. Technically, you'd never really fucked anyone before. Sure, you'd always been horny as hell, but the closest you'd ever gotten was that one time Eric ate you out (rather amateurishly), and you never actually came. You'd masturbated once or twice, but you'd never gotten the desired effect. 

But holy hell. This was new.

You steadied your breath and began to ride him, rocking back and forth slowly as you caught your bearings. Connor ran his hands over the expanse of your back, unclasping your bra and massaging whatever skin he could reach. Markus gripped your ass tightly and moved you up and down a little, causing you to mewl. 


"Jesus! Fuck!" 

Connor snickered into your neck. 


"Yes, he is indeed Robo-Jesus." 

Markus snorted. 


"If I'm Robo-Jesus, you're Detective Swoon-Bot." 

Connor growled appreciatively and kissed the base of your skull. 


"I think I can live with that." 

You wrapped your arms around Markus' neck, your breasts bouncing with each adjustment Markus made. He lifted you up and off of him for a moment, suspending you in the air. You made a frustrated noise before you recognised the fact that there was movement down below. Connor caught some of your arousal on his fingertips and began lubricating his phallus, his smile wicked as he met Markus' lust-filled gaze. 


"At the same time?"


"At the same time," Markus confirmed. 

Wordlessly, Markus lowered you back onto him, but this time, he wasn't alone. You were pinned between the two androids, one in each opening. Connor's chest pressed against your back and his hands flew to your breasts, kneading them with surprising gentleness considering the sounds he was making. Markus rotated his hips in time with Connor's, sending you reeling over the edge with a sensation that you couldn't outright describe, but couldn't be anything less than your first orgasm. 

You shook with the force of it, your limbs deadening and losing your focus as you collapsed back against Connor. Markus' hands on your waist steadied you, and they continued working you through it as you shuddered with the experience. 

The three of you were drenched in sweat, your limbs shaking as Markus sat down with a grunt on the couch. 

Connor gently extricated himself from you and helped you stand, his eyes soft and reassuring. Markus cursed softly and the two of you glanced at him quizzically.


"I was supposed to be at the War Room meeting an hour ago, what the hell am I going to do?" Markus groaned. "North's going to kill me." 


"Tell her the truth. You were having a threesome with Hank's daughter and me." 


"Pshh. Yeah, sure. She'll totally believe that." Markus rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm ace at this point, considering the--ahem--incident last week."

Connor grinned down at you. 


"North showed up naked in Markus' bed and he 'accidentally' forgot to go to his room that night."


"Yes, and she still hasn't let me off of the hook. Breathe a word of this to North and I swear I'll have your head, RK800." 


"So, why'd you fuck me and not her?" You asked. You straddled Markus' lap, forcing him to answer. 


"I enjoy North's company, and I understand her. But she's far too aggressive for me. Every single time there's a problem in Jericho, her first suggestion's always mass murder. I can't be with someone who so clearly shits upon my ideas." 


"I'm aggressive, though." 

Markus smiled at you softly. 


"You're not though, really. I think of you as an angry little kitten. You spit and hiss and yowl for attention, but deep down, you're just as starved for affection as the rest of us." 

You blushed, and he patted your ass fondly. 


"Seriously, though, baby. I gotta go."

You pouted. 


"If you leave, I'm fucking Connor senseless. Without you."

The aforementioned android perked up, a grin splitting his face. Markus laughed. 


"I'll come back later and earn a share of that enthusiasm. Until then, my friends--" He slid you off of his lap and pulled on his pants. "--I bid you adieu and good luck." 

Markus left without another word. 


"No, I wasn't kidding. Get over here, Detective Swoon-Bot. I've got a bone to pick with you." 

Connor grinned like a Cheshire Cat and stood closer. You reached only to about his collarbone, so you got a facefull of that gloriously expansive chest. 


"What did you say you planned on doing, Miss Anderson?"


"Marry you, but that's at a later date. Sit down, I may say I want to climb you like a tree but I'm physically unable to." 

He laughed softly and plopped down on the couch, beckoning you with open arms. 


"Actually, wait, on second thought, you were just in my ass. I'd say you should take a shower first, then we'll discuss this." 


"Only if you join me, sunshine."


"Fine. Deal." 



You rocked against Connor's chest, your breasts lightly touching his pecs with each sway. He groaned, his eyelids fluttering with each jostle. 


"You are a truly tortuous woman, Miss Anderson." 


"Indeed?" You wickedly pulled his bottom lip with your teeth. "I can be so much worse, you know."

He only stayed silent for a moment before opening his eyes to look at you. 


"Who hurt you?" He traced the outlines of bruises on your abdomen. 


"The same bastard who broke me." You waved off his concern. "Doesn't matter. He's dead. Serves him right, too--he abused our domestic android one too many times, and he got what was coming to him." 

His LED flashed. 


"You owned an android that went deviant?"


"It wasn't mine. I didn't like the idea, ironically. Eric wanted someone to do the chores he refused to. Looking back on it, he really was a piece of shit--but, in my defense, he was a handsome piece of shit with a voice like warm honey." 


"How long were you with him?" 


"Baby--as much as I like you and your body, I don't think I'm ready to discuss the man that caused me to almost jump off a bridge this morning. Capisce?" 

Connor started, as though he'd forgotten. He kissed you softly, his hands running up and down your back. 


"Sorry. Natural curiosity was a part of my core programming."

You smiled and patted his cheek. 


"It's alright, kiddo. I forgive you."

He quirked an eyebrow. 


"Kiddo?"  He growled playfully and began nipping at your bare skin. "I'll show you why that is woefully inaccurate, kitten." 

You couldn't wait.



Chapter Text

To say your style was unconventional was… an understatement. During work, you were the picture of professionalism, with your normal tastes toned down to what was appropriate for being a police officer. Pretty much the only things you kept the same was your makeup (flawless winged eyeliner and lipsticks that could kill), and your hair (the bottom half of which was bleached to a golden blonde). 

Connor had always found these tastes of yours to be intriguing. On the outside, you were fairly happy person, with so many sarcastic comments and cheesy jokes that he would never have suspected… this.

He stood in your doorway on a Saturday afternoon, dumbstruck as he stared at you. 

Black nail polish bottle in hand, with a black tank top that was ripped practically to shreds, a maroon sports bra underneath it, and black distressed skinny jeans with a pair of combat boots to top it all off. Tattoos littered your arms and peeked through the slits on the body of your shirt. You were quite impressive, he had to admit. You hardly ever took off your uniform at the station, so he'd never seen the intricate pictures inked into your skin. 

His first thought was that you’d decided to run away and join a circus. 

You snickered at his wide-eyed reaction. 


“Come in, Connor. If you can.” You left the door open, not bothering to check if he was coming inside. 

Your house seemed pretty normal, at least. Plenty of books and pop culture references, with hanging comic book wall art and a large TV in the living room. 

So why did it look like a Hot Topic location had thrown up on you?

You rolled your eyes and plopped down at your dining room table, a large array of nail polish bottles strewn about it’s surface. Connor sat down across from you, his LED remaining yellow as he took in your appearance. 

Well, at least now your choice of makeup made sense. 


“I never would’ve taken you for a goth, Detective.” Connor shook his head in amazement, his gaze fixated on your form. 

You quirked your eyebrow in amusement. 


“Really? Why not?” 


“You always seem so happy and—and funny. Ready to laugh. You’re not at all broody or full of angst. You’re nothing like Hank.”


“Trust me, bucko, you don’t have to be a Moaning Myrtle to like wearing black.” 


“How long have you been like this?” He watched in fascination as you covered your nails in glossy black pigment. 

You snorted. 


“Jesus, Connor, you act like I’ve got some sorta incurable disease or something. It’s just a lifestyle choice. Black is the only color I really look good in. Well, most of the time.” You blew on your nails. “Babes, it’s still me. I’m just a little rougher around the edges than you originally thought.” 

He nodded. Apparently, so. 

There was some metal music blaring from a back room, where he assumed your computer was. 


"Interesting choice in playlists, Detective," Connor commented. "The Amity Affliction, YUNGBLOOD, With Confidence, Normandie..."


"Did you seriously just hack into my Spotify account?" You let out an only slightly obnoxious cackle. "Geebus, Connor! Haven't you ever heard of privacy?"

Connor blanched, his adorable face expanding in horror. 


"Was I not supposed to--? I'm terribly sorry, Detective! I just wanted to impress--" He caught himself, his LED tinting red for a second before he recovered. "I hoped you would appreciate my knowledge of music. I apologize for any breach of conduct."

You snickered. 


"Connor, I'm just teasing. Calm down." 

He sighed in relief and allowed himself a moment of reprieve. Connor glanced around your home, enjoying all of the references to pop culture that he most definitely recognised. 


"Ah, I nearly forgot the original reason I called on you. Hank needs your assistance, Detective." 

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. 


"Why would Hank need my help when he's got you?"


"That, I cannot answer. I suspect he needs a 'human touch', if you'll excuse the phrase. As close as he and I have gotten, he does tire of me from time to time."

You wanted to snort. How could Hank ever get tired of Connor?

Nonetheless, you finished up your nails and followed Connor out of your house to the scene of the crime.

Hank choked on his coffee when he saw you. 


"Well, slap my ass and call me Sally! What the fuck is going on, here?" Hank's gaze roved over you curiously. "Did you get run over by a tour bus?"

You crossed your arms and drummed your fingers irritably. 


"Are you finished, Hank?" You planted your feet and glared up at your superior officer. "It's not my fault you called me in on my day off. Now, either stop wasting my time and tell me why you had Connor drag me here, or I'm outta here."

Hank held up his hands in surrender.


"Alright, you got me. We don't know what happened here."

Connor rolled his eyes but remained silent. You smirked.


"Connor, care to share with the class?"


"I already told Hank what happened. He doesn't think I'm right, despite my accuracy level being above 90%." Connor sniffed indignantly, angling his body away from Hank and instead facing you. "I'm sorry I brought you here. If I knew his motives, I wouldn't have brought you into this. I'll take you home."

Hank grumbled in protest, but no one stopped you as he led you back to the curb to catch an auto. His hand on your back sent your nerves singing.


"I really am sorry, Detective. I wish I knew what was running through that head of his." Connor sighed in resignation, his hand remaining at the small of your back as he hailed a self-driving car.


"Connor, can I ask you something?"


"Anything, Detective."


"Do you find me attractive?"

Connor's eyes widened and he seemed to notice the position he was in, for he suddenly stepped back to the appropriate distance for coworkers to stand. His LED blinked in embarrassment.


"I would have to be blind not to." His words were soft, and you weren't sure he even said them until he glanced up at you with a small smile. 

He entered the cab behind you, his expression betraying his deep thoughts. 


"Connor, what's wrong?" 

He blinked, as if trying to piece together the puzzle that you were to him. 


“Is there a… reason, for all of this?” He softly plucked at your shirt, his hand gliding down to rest on your leg gently. 

Connor regarded you with innocent curiousity, his eyes flicking over your face as he awaited an answer. You stiffened, just a fraction--unnoticeable to any normal human--but Connor was one of the most advanced prototypes ever created, and it didn’t go unnoticed. 

You ignored him for a moment as you thought about what to share. 


“Only if you can keep a secret,” You whispered. "There's a reason I don't let anyone at work into my personal life."

It was true, you kept work life separate from your recreational activities. Connor was possibly the first exception to the rule, ever.

Now Connor was actually scared. You turned haunted eyes to him, frowning in discomfort. 


“Connor, I’ve known you for a long time. I’ve watched you through your entire metamorphosis, from machine to deviant. You’re probably the only person I actually care about in that whole department.” 


“What about Hank?”


“Eh, the old codger’s alright. But none of them hold a candle to you, Connor.”

He moved closer, so that his thigh pressed lightly against yours. His arm came around to rest on your shoulder, holding you closer.


"You can tell me anything, Detective." 

Your heartbeat was thrumming wildly. Did you really want to dive into such ancient history? It was a past you'd fought hard to escape. 

Connor let his head fall onto your shoulder, his hand gently gripping yours in reassurance. 

You would do anything to make him happy. 


"When I was little, my mom forced me into beauty pagents. I hated them, not just because of all of the pink and the frills and glitter--I hated them also because of the man she hired as our manager. He liked young girls. He always told me how pretty I looked in the pagent dresses and soft makeup. It always hit me wrong. 

By the time my mom found out about his pedophilic nature, he'd already taken what he wanted from me. She got him arrested, but it was too late. I quit pagentry after that. I started trying to look more masculine, even then. By high school, I'd completely shed the influence of feminine traditions. I dressed in black, loose clothing that made me unattractive to most men. I took my makeup to levels that most men found to be too much. I ran from everyone who wanted to come near me.

I've gotten past most of that. But I refuse to become a victim ever again. That's why I became a cop. That's why I don't spend time with any of the guys at work." You paused, a smile cracking your face. "I'd hate to rack up an assault charge on an otherwise spotless record." 

Connor was looking at you now, his hand tightening around yours. 


"I'm so sorry. If I knew who he was, I would personally see to it that he never walks again." 

You grinned evilly. 


"No need to worry. He died last year in prison. But not before getting attacked by half the prison yard. He got what was coming to him." 

Connor seemed only a little reassured. 


"If I ever overstep my bounds--"


"Connor, it's okay! I'm not broken. I'm not fragile. I've become stronger than anyone could have ever predicted. And don't worry--I'm a badass bitch who will let you know if you screw up." You turned to face him, your house sliding into view. "Do you want to come inside?"

He squeezed your hand and nodded. 

You led him inside, wringing your hands as you contemplated what to do next. 


"You asked me earlier if I found you attractive. Do you find me attractive, Detective?"

You choked on your air and hacked for a few moments, your face turning red. 


"Well, I--I mean, uh, I, I, I mean--maybe." You shook your head to clear it. The words were out, it had to be easier the next time, right?  "Yes. I like you, Connor." 

His face brightened exponentially, his smile heartbreaking as he squeezed your hand. You led him to the couch, never letting go. 


"Does that mean you would like to be my--my romantic partner?" Connor's enthusiasm melted the ice that encased your heart. 

You returned his smile and curled up against his side, resting your head on his chest. Your palm splayed out on his stomach, moving in little circles as you snuggled against his washboard muscles. 


"Yes, Connor. I would like that very much." 


"Even though--?"


"Connor. Not broken." 


"Right." He smiled in spite of himself. "I'm just very happy that you chose me, Detective."

You kissed his chest, holding him closer.


"You wanna rent a movie? Maybe spend the night?" 

He pressed his lips onto the top of your head, kissing your hair.


"As you wish." 



Chapter Text

Conan regarded you from afar while chewing his lip, deep in thought. He'd done everything he could to try to hint that he was ready to go the next step in your relationship, but you'd remained blind to his growing list of subtleties. 

He didn't know what he'd been doing wrong. 


"Connor, what do you think makes a woman horny?" 

Connor started and knocked over a container of pencils on Hank's desk. 


"What? Where did that come from?" He righted the cup and watched Conan with wide, expectant eyes. 


"I've been dating Detective Anderson for more than three months now, and we still have yet to consummate our relationship with sex. I'm not sure if I've done something wrong, or if she is simply not interested in it."  He worked his jaw, reluctantly meeting Connor's eyes. "You've known her longer than I. Perhaps you could offer some insight." 

Connor struggled to keep a straight face. 


"Oh. That all?" He snickered and caught RK900 watching him coldly. "Fine, alright. Your girlfriend never told you, did she? Young Anderson is a virgin, Conan. She's probably terrified." 

Conan narrowed his eyes. 


"Why should she be? I would never hurt her." 


"Conan, have you ever heard yourself speak? You and Reed talk all the time about sex. She's not deaf and she's not dumb." Connor flicked his gaze to your desk, eyeing your possessions and photos. "She's inexperienced and insecure. If you ask her, she'll probably be more open to it." 


"Perhaps." Conan twirled his coin absently. "What part of the male anatomy do females find most attractive, I wonder?"


"Anderson has told me she likes men with defined abdominal muscles, toned arms, and sultry voices. Though perhaps not in that precise vernacular.” Connor’s blush indicated the lewdness of your comments.


"Interesting. I happen to possess all three." Conan held a devious grin. "Would you mind stalling her after work for me? I have something to arrange." 




Connor had done as he was asked, and he was beginning to seriously regret it. 

You were completely oblivious to his ulterior motives, but due to his appearance, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. Ever since you’d been dating his brother, he couldn’t help but recognize the danger. Connor had even considered opting for curly hair for one more distinction between him and Conan, but it was that week that Conan had the same idea. (Apparently, you’d mentioned how sexy he’d look with curled locks, and Conan had taken it to heart.)

Now, he was in quite the predicament. 

You were fixated on his mouth, and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop staring, either. He tried to change subjects to something a little more appropriate, considering the thoughts running through his head. (Jesus, Connor, get it together! She's in love with your fucking brother, Conan, not you!)


“Detective, I must ask you a personal question, on behalf of my brother.” 

Your attention shot back up to his eyes, your expression clearing. 


“Oh, really? What is it, Connor?”


“Well, it’s a little embarrassing for me to ask, considering it’s not any of my business, but—Detective, is there a reason you haven’t slept with him yet? He thinks he’s done something wrong.” 

You snorted, your cheeks flushing as you looked away, at anything but him. 


“Ah, Connor—He doesn’t really want the answer to that. It’s completely stupid and—I have my own reasons. Besides, I don’t understand why he would care. It’s not like he enjoys physical affection as much as humans do.” 

Connor nearly choked on a breath he didn’t need. 


“Is that seriously what you think? Jesus, Conan needs to talk to you more than he talks to me!” Connor shook his head in disgrace. “Okay, not to be a Meddling Marvin, but—Conan is a fucking horny bastard. If you had any idea how much he craves your touch, you’d probably short circuit—well, that is, if you could—because Conan is an iceberg. Everything runs much deeper than first meets the eye.” 

You quirked an eyebrow. 


“Well, I guess he’s going to be sorely disappointed for a little while longer. I love him, but I’m not ready for that level of intimacy yet. If he can’t even come to me on his own to ask such things, obviously he doesn’t deserve the consideration.” 

Connor winced. That was not the answer he’d been looking for or expecting. 

He attempted to lighten the mood, but failed miserably. You rolled your eyes and began packing up to go home. 


“I’ll see you tomorrow, Connor.” 

He glanced at the clock—6:48. It was too early, Conan had requested to at least 7:00, but there was nothing else he could do without raising suspicion. Instead, he turned to Hank.  


“Hank! Isn’t there something you had to tell your daughter about next month?” 

The lieutenant, thankfully, latched on to the excuse readily and without a hitch. 


“Yes! Honey, you know there’s the department gala next month, and I was wondering if you’d be willing to help your old man get ready. I don’t have a date, but Fowler’s forcing me to be there to ‘boost morale’ and all of that corporate bullshit…” 

Connor exhaled in relief. You chatted with Hank until 7:30, and Conan gave him the all-clear just as you were walking out the door. He was released from babysitting duty, and as thus, left with Hank to visit with him during dinner. 

You were completely oblivious on the auto home, barely glancing out the windows to check you were going in the right direction. You browsed the reading material left by some other passenger, eyes skimming the text as the streets zipped by outside. 

It wasn't until you got out and did a double take at your door that you suspected anything was up. 

The front door was open, with rose petals scattered about the welcome mat. You stepped inside and shut it behind you, awareness making your nerves prickle.  


"Conan?" Your voice held a slight tremor as you walked through the empty house. 

Follow the red flower petal path.  

Candles were lit and sitting everywhere, offering the only light in an otherwise dark house. You followed the broken flowers to your room, your suspicion growing by the second. 

In fact, you were only barely surprised by the fact that Conan was kneeling naked on your bed, holding a rose between his teeth. He tilted his head slightly, his eyebrow quirking provocatively. He pulled the stem from his teeth and twirled the rose in his fingers with perfect dexterity, his eyes roving over your frame unabashedly. 

You had to admit, it was quite a sight. Conan had a fantastic body, with a rippling washboard stomach, defined pecs, and limbs that looked like they could crush skulls. He licked his lips and you took just a moment to take it all in, the beautiful splendor that was your partner. But then the moment was over, and you were walking to your closet without a word.

It was kind of a shame, you realized. He'd put all of this effort into getting disappointed. 


"Put some clothes on, Conan. Someone might see you." You hung up your police jacket without looking at him and left your room to his stunned silence. 

He stumbled out after you, questions on his lips. 


"Detective, what--? Do you not find me attractive? Do I not arouse you?" His breath was heavy and he sounded heartbreakingly insecure, which was a first for the normally suave android. 

You went into the kitchen to fix your dinner, shame creeping up on the edges of your mind. You began to explain yourself without making eye contact, Conan standing to the side with one hand on his hip. 


"Conan, you know that's not true. If I didn't like you, I wouldn't be living with you." You rifled through the fridge for leftovers. "I just--maybe I'm not ready, babe. I love you, but we've only been together for a few months, and I... I'm a little more old school, is all." 

This did not seem to satisfy the RK900. 


"Are you afraid of me?" 


"No, I just--!" You huffed and shut the fridge with a clank. "Why is this such a huge issue all of a sudden?" 

Conan cast his eyes to the floor, his LED spinning yellow.  


"I--sometimes I think that you don't want to be in a relationship with me, anymore. We don't do hardly anything that couples are supposed to do. We don't share a bed. We don't go on dates. And we've never shared skin." He peeked at you through his eyelashes. "I love you, Detective. I want to know everything about you, and I want to experience you in the most visceral way." 


"I--I thought you didn't want any of that." Regret spillt over your features, painting it in dark colors. 


"I want everything with you, darling."

Your face pinched, conflict warring on your face. You couldn't deny that you had an... unconventional relationship with the RK900, but you'd thought it was going pretty well as of late. You avoided his eyes, gripping the handles of the refrigerator and tapping your fingernails on it as you thought. Conan shifted and put on your apron, offering you a small smile. 


"Go sit down and rest. It's been a long day for you. I'll make you a cheeseburger." His steel-grey eyes softened in the way they only did for you. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed it." 

Conan gently nudged you away from the kitchen and began setting about his work. You plopped down on the couch, gnawing on your inner lip distractedly. You didn't want him to feel so unloved, but Hank would absolutely murder you if he found out his little girl took a hop in the sack before marriage. 

The more you thought about it, the more you cringed. You loved Conan, so why were you so terrified? If he wasn't going to be your first, would you be thinking differently? You didn't know. Never in a million years did you think your first time wouldn't be with a human...

You glanced over your shoulder into the kitchen. Resolve tightened in your gut. Conan was more human than many of your coworkers. He and Connor were better people than some of those that you'd known for your whole life. It shouldn't be that big of a deal. He was your boyfriend and you loved him.

He padded out into your living room, his smile no longer forced.


"I'm always here for you, whenever you're ready. I love you. I'd wait for you forever if I had to."

He set your plate before you gently, kissed the top of your head goodnight, and escaped to your bedroom. 

Jesus, you hoped you wouldn't have to wait forever.

He'd made you a cheeseburger with carrot sticks, grapes, and a side of chips. Perfectly balanced. You ached knowing how much effort he'd put into tonight; the flowers, the candles, and even making you dinner. He only ever had your best interests at heart, and he'd shown himself perfectly capable of protecting you many times over. 

You ate your dinner slowly, savoring each delicious bite and thinking about Conan the whole time. After putting your plate in the sink and rinsing it, you followed him to your room.


"Conan?" You whispered. 


You peered into your room, lit only by a few scattered tealights. He shifted in the darkness, his LED glowing as he sat up.  


"Yes? Darling, what is it?" He seemed... worried? 

You crept deeper into the room, sitting down on the side of your bed beside him. You sighed softly and put your hand on his thigh. His hand found yours and he held it in his own. 


"I'm sorry if I overreacted. I'm not in love with my body, and I don't want you to be disappointed if I'm not... a supermodel." You winced at his hurt expression. "Baby, I'm terrified, okay? I've never been intimate with anyone before, let alone someone I'm so deeply in love with--!"

Tears streamed down your face. It was true, you didn't have a fourteen-inch waist. You were built to be strong, not a twig. You were a cop, and a damn good one. Surviving was always your top priority, so you'd never really focused on limiting your caloric intake like so many of your girlfriends did. 

In return, you had a hearty body packed with muscle and a little extra padding--a life choice that had saved you from your multiple gunshot wounds. 

Conan's hand tightened around yours.


"I could never be disappointed in you," Conan growled. His hurt had dissolved into anger, somehow. "How dare you think you're not good enough. You will always be more than I deserve."


His lips crashed into yours. Conan's hands gripped your hips, his curls brushing your forehead as he pulled you close. His hands roamed freely over your clothing, just touching you and enjoying the fact that you were here, solid, and real.

Conan pulled away long enough to look in your eyes, asking for permission. You licked your lips and nodded, releasing his hand to begin unbuttoning your shirt. 


"Wait," He murmured. "Let me see you."

Your hands stilled and he pulled your shirt away from your body, leaving you in your bra. He knelt in front of you, taking in every inch of your body. Battle scars littered your skin, not so dissimilar from the freckles on his that you loved so much. 

He sat in awe of you, his eyes roving over the muscles that rippled beneath your skin as you moved and breathed. 


"How could you ever think you're anything less than perfect?"

Conan breathed against your stomach, pressing soft kisses to your abdomen as he ran his hands up and down your sides. He caressed each rib, every curve, leaving no part of your skin unexplored. His lips graced your skin with surprising gentleness, his fingertips tracing shapes over your sides.

You began undoing your jeans, but he stopped you. 


"Darling, let me take care of you. I promise you won't regret it." 

His bright eyes caught the candlelight beautifully, like sapphire prisms.

You nodded, finally, willing to give up your life for him if you had to. You would give him the world.




Chapter Text


This was never something I asked for. 


My eyes caught on the android's back, the luminescent blue triangle nestled squarely between his shoulderblades. Light bounced around the room through the broken glass and shattered walls. His dark hair was illuminated from behind, as though he possessed a divine halo. 

Hank stood off to the side, his arms crossed over his chest. He was determined to avoid looking at the crime scene. I knew this was a difficult case for him. 

The broken body of a young boy lay sprawled across the kitchen floor, a pitiful expression on his face. It was difficult for all of us, but for Hank, it was far too close to home. 

My eyes drifted back to the pristinely dressed android automatically, an old ache churning in my chest and stomach. Everything hurt. Everything was wrong. I didn't know what I could possibly do to move past this. 

Conan turned so that his profile was silhouetted against the early morning sun. I hated myself more than I hated him, if I was being perfectly honest. He met my eyes and smiled, as though there wasn't a child's corpse decaying ten feet away. My heart fluttered and stopped in my chest, the ache building.

He was my best friend. That's all he could ever be. 

He was an android. They couldn't feel something as complex as love. Not yet, at least. 

Conan pivoted on the balls of his feet and crossed the room to speak to Hank and Connor in hushed tones. So he'd found something, then. I moved within earshot, trying to calm the hammering in my chest. 


"The child's name was Alexander Robertson. Eight years old." 

Hank growled deep in his throat. 


"Who would willingly kill a child?" He spat. "Who would purposefully take away the gift of life--!" 

Hank stopped himself, his teeth sinking into his clenched fist. He took an angry breath and left the apartment without another word. Clearly, he couldn't remain impartial in this case. Connor left with an apologetic smile, trailing behind his partner like a faithful puppy.


"And then, there were two." Conan scoffed. He shifted and signed a glowing tablet that a suit offered him. "I'm almost done with my analysis. After that, we can leave."

I rolled my shoulders, avoiding his eyes. I had to focus, focus on anything but him. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore the sensations that went cascading through me whenever he was near. I didn't know how to handle it, so I did my best to ignore it. 

It became quickly apparent that Conan had some news to spill, as he finished his work even more efficiently than usual. 


"I have some exciting news, Detective," Conan began. We were strolling back to the precinct, his voice lighter than I'd heard it to be in years. "I've won the bet."

I blanched, my footsteps slowing to a slug's pace. I'd hoped I would never hear those words escape his lips. 


"You don't believe me! I'm surprised you ever doubted me, Detective. I always complete my mission. Eight girls in two weeks. Hank and Connor owe me big. One absolute yes on whatever I ask of them."

My breath refused to come. Air would not enter my lungs. Conan eyed me quizzically, blissfully unaware that he'd done anything wrong.


"I--erm." I shook my head, trying to clear it. Conceal, don't feel. "Fine. That's not something I wanted to know, but... Good for you, Conan. You're officially that much closer to being a real man." 

His brows furrowed as I sped forward, ahead and away from him with newfound purpose. I knew I was raising suspicion. I had always walked with him back to the precinct, ever since we became partners. But... Right then, I couldn't deal with it. I wasn't good enough, and I never would be.

Conan overtook me with ease, stopping right in front of me and halting my progress. I shut my eyes, willing myself to ignore the heat coming from his chest as he stood so close.


"Detective, what's wrong? You're holding out on me."


"Can you please stop?" Tears were threatening to spill from my eyes. 

Conan's expression changed in an instant. 


"What's wrong? Why are you panicking again? What triggered you?"


"I can't do this anymore. I'm not fine. I know I said I was but I'm not. I'm never fine." I dashed the tears awak from my eyes, anger curling my fists. "I fucking hate myself because I let you hurt me over and over and I never fucking learn. I don't know how to turn it off and I hate it, I hate how deep my feelings grow, and how quickly they begin to hurt me...

"I hate how I feel for you. I love you and there's nothing I can do to stop it. And yet... no matter how many people you're with, no matter how often I tell myself I need to get over you, I can't. You're engrained into my mind, and I can't get rid of you, not with that damned smile that makes me doubt your platonic intentions, not with the way your hands find mine in every spare moment--! I fucking hate the person you're turning me into." 

Conan searched my eyes, but said nothing. 

There was nothing for him to say. 

He didn't feel the same. 

I wanted to tear myself apart, piece by piece. 



Chapter Text

Today was... the worst. You didn't know how else to describe it. Something in the universe decided that it was going to rain on your parade... over, and over, and over again, until you had nothing left. 

You had nothing left to give, and it was killing you from the inside out. 

You loved a man more than anything else before, and he had rejected you in the last possible second. You felt spent, broken, undone. It had been more than you thought anyone should be able to take. 



You looked up, mascara and eyeliner streaming down the sides of your face. You'd hoped Connor would never see you like this. With a soft whimper, you hid your face in your hands once more, shame clouding your cheeks. 


"Detective, I'm so sorry. Hank just told me what happened." You heard his clothing shift around his frame as he moved to crouch in front of you. "I never thought he would dump you a week before the wedding." 

You felt your shoulders cave in around you, gasps shaking your body as you let out all of the hurt. 

Connor met you halfway, his arms circling around you and holding you close. His body caught every tear, every cry, every movement that you made, and converted it into something new. 

His body was steadfast as he held you, allowing you to pour all of the negativity you'd harbored into him instead. His chin rested on the top of your head, his right hand cupping the back of your neck protectively, as one would with a child. Connor hushed you, his hands ghosting over your body. It was more intimate than you could have predicted, and you wondered if Connor was truly as in love with you as Hank claimed. 



You peeked up from his chest, your eyes red and makeup obliterated into nothing more than a black cloud. 


"If he can't see how beautiful you are, what a kind and caring soul you have, he never deserved you in the first place." 

He shifted his weight and somehow you found yourself being lifted, carried. You didn't protest, just curled yourself into a ball and snuggled against your favorite android.

Time passed, though how much you were unsure of. You could have been in his arms for hours or only a few moments--it was as though you'd fallen asleep somehow, warped through time in a way that you couldn't properly discern.  

You let your eyelids crack open as Connor set you down on something soft. He disappeared from your blurry vision for only a few seconds, returning with a wet cloth and blanket. He gently cleansed your eyelids and face, removing the offending blackness. Your eyes didn't itch as bad anymore, and you were thankful for his forethought. 

Connor smiled softly and offered you a glass of water. 


"Thank you, Connor." Blush crept up your neck, making your ears burn. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this." 

You swiped at your nose with the back of your hand, self-consciousness rising by the minute. Now that you could clearly see, you recognised this as Connor's apartment. Technically it was under Hank's name since androids couldn't own property yet, but it was Connor's in every other way. He paid the rent, he cleaned it and decorated it--it was his

Soft shades of grey and cream blanketed the walls, with darker grey furniture scattered around the small space. An android charging dock resided in one corner near the kitchen refrigerator, glowing in standby mode. A painting was hung above the main couch, unframed canvas covered in shades of blue. 

You sat in a comfortable armchair that sat close to the bathroom. He knelt before you, his eyes narrowed in gentle concern. 


"What do you need?"

You snorted darkly. 


"A new fiancee. A new life." 

Connor tilted his head, unsure how to answer. Then, his eyes lit up. 


"Wait here." He rose and zipped into the kitchen, working swiftly and efficiently behind the thin partition dividing the apartment. 

You heard a clinking of glasses and a few undiscernable sounds before Connor stepped out triumphantly, holding a frothing glass and a spoon. 


"I thought you didn't need sustenance, Connor. Why do you have groceries here?"


"Hank actually comes over often enough that he insists on a few staples. Plus, it is rather convenient for guests."

He offered the glass and spoon to you, a satisfied grin on his face. You tentatively tasted the froth, automatically assuming that with Hank, the "staples" were most likely to be alcoholic and artery-clogging.

However, you were pleasantly surprised with the bubbly carbonation of root beer. You hummed softly and dove your spoon in more enthusiastically, grinning when you pulled it back up to find the creamy vanilla ice cream that had been hidden by the foam. 


"I knew I liked Hank." 

For a few minutes, the only sound that could be heard in Connor's apartment was the soft clinking of your spoon against the glass. He simply sat and smiled at you, watching your progress as you enjoyed the fruit of his labor. 

You tilted your head back and chugged the last of the root beer, a small frothy mustache covering your upper lip. Connor laughed and swiped it away, licking his fingertip playfully. 


"Root beer floats make the world go 'round." 


"Truer words were never spoken." You struggled to keep a straight face, watching his receding back as he took your dishes to the kitchen. 

It was so incredibly hard to keep the stupid grin from your face. He'd made you happier now than you had ever been before. 

You scooted over to leave him room, patting the space next to you as he returned. Connor raised an eyebrow but complied, allowing you to snuggle into his side. You fell asleep listening to his breathing.



Chapter Text

Connor squinted at the implement in your hand, his LED spinning as comprehension lit his features. He was on his knees, bare as the day he was born, his hands restrained behind his back with department-issued handcuffs. Connor squirmed against his bonds, but he couldn't move. The reflection of your whip in his eyes sent a tingle down your spinal cord. 


"Oh, my child... You have sinned against me." You purred in a provocative voice that did not match the heaviness of your words.

Connor shuddered involuntarily, his breath weak. 


"I didn't mean to." His thighs flexed and relaxed in quick succession. "I would never wrong you on purpose, Mistress." 


"On purpose? No, of course not, my pet." You lowered your face to hover above the crook in his shoulder. "But a sin is a sin, no matter the original intent."

Connor bit his lower lip. He was barely holding it together; if you teased him much longer, he'd break those handcuffs in half and just fuck you against the floor. Smirking, you stepped back and toyed with your whip. Connor's eyes darted over you, assessing the damage he was about to endure.


"Will it be the usual tonight, Mistress?"

You hummed thoughtfully, circling around his form. You brought your whip up around his throat, pulling it just barely tighter than would be comfortable. 


"Good boys speak only when spoken to. Are you my good boy, Connor?"

Connor's eyebrow twitched. He was on the verge of uttering some snark when you tightened your grip. 


"Are you?" 

He nodded painfully and you released him, sending him into a fit of coughs. You spun on your heel and were about to leave and prepare part two of your plan when you heard his soft voice utter something he didn't think you would hear. 


"Only at night, my love." 

You smirked evilly. Oh... He was going to pay for that. 



Connor whimpered pitifully. A pale blue coolant beaded and dripped over his taut skin. He was shaking with the effort to keep himself upright, flexing and relaxing his fingers as he struggled to focus. You reentered the room, satisfaction written all over your face as you brought out a chair. Connor nearly cried in relief as you uncuffed his hands from the ceiling, allowing him to fall into the chair. You granted him a few precious seconds of reprieve before continuing. 


"Lashes are fun," you purred, "but I have one more thing in mind before I reward you for being such a good sport. You've been taking your punishment well, Connor, but there's something left for you." 

You grinned and indicated for him to get on his hands and knees. Connor grunted and fell at your feet, allowing you to kneel beside him. 


"Now, I want you to stay as absolutely still as you can, Connor. Be my good boy." 

You waited until he had a chance to brace himself, and upon his go-ahead, you brought your palm down hard onto his ass. He yelped, clearly not expecting it, and attempted to settle back into his position. You did this three more times, feeling the movement of his artificial muscles and the pull of his flesh. It took all of your strength to not come undone from the sheer power that you felt. 

It was such an odd thing, as your hand attacked his flesh again and again, how enjoyable it was. And considering the sounds escaping Connor, he was enjoying it, too. 

Connor's back tensed as you finally paused, your breath bated and arm suspended in the air. 


"Oh, yes... You're my good boy, Connor." You caressed his muscles gently and lovingly, sliding your hands over his ass tenderly as you cooed softly. "Did I hurt you, Darling?"

Connor glanced back at you, defiance sparking in his chocolate eyes. 


"Seductress, if you had, you would've heard my safe word." 

You grinned, placated. You gave his ass one more hard smack and uttered his release. Before you had time to breathe, Connor had you pinned against the headboard, his lips attacking your neck with deadly accuracy. His hands explored your skin with practiced ease, knowing every spot that would send you reeling. 

You ripped your fingernails over his body, earning a whine from him as Connor sat back in order to breathe. You raked over his flesh, revealing his white chassis to you as you demanded his plate to open to you. His eyelids fluttered deliciously, forcing you to pace yourself. You plucked at his wires and parts gingerly, wondering what would put him in his place. 

With a malevolent smile, you pinched one of his thirium pump lines so that it couldn't reach the rest of him. He gasped and keened for you to release him, which you did. But you plucked out his subatomic converter instead, allowing his eyes to fly wide open as he stared at his metaphorical heart in your hands. Connor's lip twitched deliciously and you carefully wedged it back into place, closing his chest once you had. 


"Maybe that will teach you to act without my permission." You growled into his neck, biting his ear roughly before shoving him onto his back. 

You straddled him, pinning his arms above his head, opening his sweet creamy skin to you. Little freckles dotted his frame, his muscles in his chest heaving as he struggled to control himself. Connor's eyes were half lidded and ravenous, seeking to devour you whole. 

You tsked softly, grabbing his boxers roughly and unapologetically. He let out a rather strained gasp as you tightened your hold, grinning at him in a way that made his toes curl. 


"Will you keep your promise for me this time, baby?" You held your hand threateningly on his chest compartment, ready to open it at a moment's notice. "I only want what's best for you, Connor." 

He flinched slightly, his pupils blown out with desire. 


"I can take whatever you're willing to give, Mistress." 

With substantial effort, he lifted his eyes to look at you, his breathing labored and heavy. He swiped his tongue over his upper lip, where he'd started to bleed blue. Connor caressed his canine slowly, his gaze never wavering from your own. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. He knew how to taunt you. 

With a Herculean sense of self-control, you managed to sit back on your heels, adjusting your hair in a way that made your breasts nearly pop out of the bra you wore. Connor barely kept his hands to himself, whimpering with the effort it required. 

Finally, you gently caressed his growing bulge, pouting slightly to show remorse. 


"I didn't really hurt you, did I, darling?" You stroked him softly, earning yourself an impressive tent in his shorts. 

He shook his head, bucking into your touch eagerly. 


"Please! Ride me, Mistress. I beg you." Connor's voice was hoarse with the strain. He bit his lip, drawing thirium in the process. 


"What was that?" You leaned a little closer, so that your torso was hovering about 6 inches above his. 


"Ride me! Fuck me! Please!" He arched off of the bed, his stomach barely grazing yours. 

As soon as it began, your spell ended. You ripped off your underwear and opened the button on his, allowing his erection to spring free. With nothing further you sank down onto him, sliding down all the way to the hilt. He let out an unholy moan, a gutteral sound that went right to your core. You began to move with urgency, rocking and pushing yourself as far onto him as you could. Connor tilted his hips to help you out, whining as he begged to touch you. 

With an evil smirk, you removed his bonds and he shot upright, pressing his chest to yours as he grabbed your ass and pulled you down further. You screamed his name as he moved tirelessly into you, his hands roving over you with an unadulterated hunger that you would never tire of. 

His hand flew down to where you were joined and he moved in circles, applying pressure on your clit sporadically in a pattern that soon had you tightening around him. He kept you on his lap as he rode you through the rest of his high, falling back and pulling you down with him. 

Breathless, he started to laugh softly. 


"Damn, baby... We need to do that more often." 

You nearly choked on your air, leaning back to look at him to make sure he wasn't pulling your leg.




"Yeah, of course. That was amazing." He grinned, struggling to catch his breath, and kissed your forehead. "I think I really like it when you boss me around."

You rolled your eyes. 


"You mean what I do every day, all of the time?"

He thought about it for a second. 


"Maybe. But you're so sexy when you're domineering. I love it." He squeezed you in a hug. "I love you. So if this is what you like, I'm not complaining. Not after such good results." 

You smirked up at him. Well. If he wanted you to be dominant, you could live with that. Rather happily, in fact.




Chapter Text

You'd struggled with your body image for as long as you could remember. It was something that constantly plagued you: those rolls at your stomach, the slight roundness at the backs of your arms--you were always simply less than perfect. You'd tried so hard to overcome it. You exercised regularly and showed restraint from sweets. But none of it mattered. Your body was naturally bouncy, with breasts that felt too big for you and thighs that complied to gravity more than you wanted them to. 

You couldn't pinpoint exactly when you stopped trying to be healthy. 

Weeks, months, years? You couldn't tell if you tried. 

All you knew was that you were tired of being alone. 

Boys didn't want girls with rolls and flabby thighs. Men didn't like cellulite and stretch marks. It didn't matter that you had a pretty face or a stunning personality. All they saw was the size of your waist. The body that didn't have any pretty curves, only a slight pooch above the hem of your jeans. No one would ever love you unless your body was as beautiful as your mind. 

It didn't matter that you were the fucking best cop at the Detroit Police Department. It didn't matter that you had recieved three commendations within your first six months on the beat. It didn't matter that you'd graduated at the top of your class, making straight-A's and extremely high percentile scores on all sections of your ACT. 

Nope. No one could see past the fat cells that 'ruined' an otherwise pristine person. 

"She'd be so gorgeous if she could lose 15 or 20 pounds." 

"Like mother, like daughter. Her mom died of heart disease five years ago. You know what they say, it runs in the family." 

"I hear she's still single. No wonder, she'll never catch a man looking like that." 

Your body had been functional for so long, you'd tried to ignore its unsightly imperfections. Someone would come along, right? Someone who understood you inside and out, who loved you, rolls and all.

That had been a stupid pipe dream. You'd never be enough. 

You told yourself this as you ignored the gnawing pain in your stomach. Nope. Your body would have to learn to become self-sufficient. You weren't going to give in anymore. 

So, instead of breaking for lunch with the rest of your coworkers, you remained at the station with the androids. 

Connor eyed you curiously as he followed Hank outside, who was no doubt on his way to clog his arteries at the Chicken Feed truck. You yearned to go with them, to be around the intoxicatingly adorable android that you had slowly fallen for. 


"What, you working overtime or something, Smalls?" 

You swiveled in your chair to glare at Gavin Reed, the resident asshole--and, unfortunately, your partner. You hoped it was going to be a temporary transition.


"I have a name, you know. You don't have to constantly point out that I'm short." 


"Yeahhh--but do I care? No, no I don't." Reed slapped his palm onto your desk, flattening it and splaying his fingers over your paperwork. "Come on, Smalls. Take a fucking joke." 


"I'll take a joke when it's at your expense, Gavin." You flipped him the bird and turned back to your screen, allowing the hollow in your stomach to become your focal point in ignoring your partner. He grumbled and left without you, allowing you to work in peace.


It was a gradual change, but you were becoming numb. Hank noticed when you didn't eat lunch, so instead of opting for breakfast or dinner, you chose lunch to shut up those around you. Salads and the odd piece of grilled chicken breast became your entire existence. Plenty of liquids, including protein shakes and lots of water. 

Your body's reshaping obviously wasn't immediate, either. You still had years of fat to burn through. First you started feeling cold. Connor would give you his jacket whenever you went outside, an excuse to touch you that he relished. But when you stopped menstruating, you had to wonder if there was something bigger going on than your newest health kick. Every time you looked in the mirror, all you saw were the pieces of skin that refused to deflate and disappear. You didn't notice the thinning of your fingers or the hollows in your eyes. You managed to ignore the dryness in your hair and skin. 

When you collapsed in the middle of an investigation, Hank became angry. You heard him screaming at your partner as the paramedics strapped you to a gurney. 


"Gavin, you dumbass! How could you not notice there was something wrong with her? She's your goddamn partner! She looks like a fucking walking skeleton, you asswipe!"

Connor slipped into the ambulance before the doors closed. He knelt beside you so that his face was close to yours, regret filling his eyes. Connor sucked in a breath, caressing your hand gently in his as he cupped your cheek.


“Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous, possessive love that grabs at what it can.”


"Life of Pi." You sniffled, attempting to avoid his gaze. "You know me too well." 


"Apparently, not well enough." He inhaled sharply, his hand retracting to trace his face as though he'd been burned. "What--?" 

You squinted through your blurry vision to see that his fingertips were wet with--tears? Androids couldn't cry... Could they? Your brain was too fuzzy to fully grasp the implications if they could, your eyelids threatening to close permanently.


"Connor, it's not your fault." 


"Yes, it is!" He refocused on you, his expression changing to anger and hurt. "You were unhappy, and I was too blind to see it. If only I had pulled my own head out of my ass, I would have been able to notice that the woman I love was starving herself to death!"

You couldn't help the dopey grin that spread across your face. 


"Doth mine ears deceive me? The woman you love?"

Whatever he said next, you never heard. The paramedics placed a mask over your nose and mouth, your breath fogging the plastic as Connor cried over you. 

Or, perhaps more accurately, the shell you'd become. Your body had become sharp and angular, full of edges and ridges that hadn't been there before. Your cheeks were hollow and your chin was abnormally pronounced, your bones becoming more and more visible the longer he looked at you. It hurt his heart more than he could describe--even though he supposedly didn't have one. 

Connor struggled to pull himself together enough to follow the paramedics into the hospital to wait for you. 

He sat by your side the entire time, whispering your name over and over, along with, "I love you." 


Over the next few months, you were slowly rehabilitated. From IVs to a liquid diet to slowly introducing solid foods, you were bumped from therapist to therapist as you struggled to regain some sense of normalcy. 

At least you were pretty sure you'd never spiral like that again. It had endangered your ability to function as a cop. Your job was your life, and as such, you made a vow to never give in to your demons again. 

Connor was supportive of you the entire way, bringing you flowers and monitoring your caloric intake. You loved him as much as, if not more than, he loved you.


You'd never be the same.

Chapter Text

Connor shut his eyes, taking a moment to inhale deeply through his nose. Hush, Connor. You're fine. You're okay. His eyes snapped open, frantically glancing around the crime scene as he searched for the owner of the voice, but you were nowhere to be found. Your voice was the only piece of you he got to keep. 

You were his voice of reason, of empathy, the only thing he wanted to hear for the rest of his life. 

But, you were gone. 

He'd let you leave. He kicked himself for this every day. 

On instinct, Connor watched your number dial on his HUD, but sent it away before you would pick up. He knew your reaction. You would cry and ache and hurt, and he didn't want to be the cause of this. Not ever again.

He sighed and brought himself back to the present, observing the massacre that Hank was kneeling over.



HEIGHT: 182.88 CM




He blinked away the data and settled down next to Hank, scanning the body for inconsistencies. Connor's eyes glazed over as he took in the carnage that had once been this man's torso. Bodily fluids mixed with blood, viscera, and asphalt in the chest cavity. He knew some of the missing pieces were at evidence markers a few meters from the body. Perhaps thrown by the attacker? Connor tilted his head this way and that, measuring everything as he went. 


"So, any idea?" Hank's voice snapped Connor from his analysis. 


"Well, he obviously didn't die from natural causes." His horrified expression is proof enough of that. "I'm guessing homicide. No android could do this. Not even a Deviant." 

Connor met Hank's quizzical gaze. 


"What do you mean? You tin cans are much stronger than we are, hands down." 

Connor shifted on the balls of his feet, his elbows digging into his thighs as he felt bile rise in his throat.


"Simple. Deviants act out of fear. This is the main--and first, unfortunately, in most cases--emotion that they experience. We are programmed to respect humans and protect them. Even deviants retain some sense of the vestiges of their programming. Call it morality, the weight of the Three Laws--whatever you want, but most deviants would rather die themselves than subject a human to this level of harm." 

Connor swallowed. 


"In essence, Hank, deviants are afraid, but that doesn't make them monsters. The only possible conclusion in this case is that it was another human that did this. For, the level of daily abuse to drive a deviant to this level of violence--it's unspeakable. Impossible. The android would have deviated long before ripping their owner apart and exposing his internal organs."

Hank hummed in thought. 

Yes, perhaps Connor was correct. The android who had been abused by that Carlos guy had been afraid and did it out of self defense. Even then, when he stabbed him, he did it to get away. He never mutilated the body to such an extreme degree. 

Hank scratched his chin and stood, waving over the coroner. 


"Got everything ya need, Connor? The squints are ready to take over." 


"Ha, ha--very funny. Never heard that one before." She rolled her eyes and shifted on her feet, waiting to be given permisson to do her job. 

Still, Connor didn't give it just yet. There was something bugging him about the circumstances of the way the body laid. He took video and photographic documentation of everything he could think he would need, mulling it over as he inspected the man's eyes. 

Something was definitely not right. 

Finally, Connor stood and waved over the coroner. 


"Be careful with this one. Something isn't fitting into place." Connor patted her shoulder and left her to her work.

Red ice doesn't normally cause such violent reactions. Although abusers become agitated and aggressive, this level of brutality is new. There must be something we're missing... Connor's eyes darted back to the man's corpse, scanning it more invasively just as the scientist knelt and began to work at moving him. 

Connor caught sight of an unfamiliar device in the chest cavity. Oh no.  


"Doctor! Don't touch that body!" The urgency in his voice made her freeze, her eyes wide as he shot to her side to pull her away. 

An almost imperceptible beep pierced the sudden deathly silence. Connor winced as he had to shove her away; he hated to harm her, but it was better than letting her get blown up. 

Connor shucked off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves in what seemed to be one fluid motion, instantly plunging both hands into the man's viscera to retrieve the bomb. Fear--could he even feel fear?--wracked his focus as he fumbled with the ticking explosives in his hands. 

It was more complicated than anything else he'd ever seen. Small tubes of red and yellow liquid were fizzing and snapping amidst a large array of panels, android parts, and wires. He blinked in horror. Yes, these were android parts. He'd know that color of porcelain anywhere. 

The clock beeped once more, marking another minute gone. He choked and began fumbling with the intricate machine. Though at first glance it seemed haphazard and crude, it was actually rather sophisticated. This was concerning as he worked with it, letting his skin fade back as he tried to let himself inside of the firewall. He knew if the liquids mixed, a volatile explosion would ensue. He could not have any human lives lost. 

With a final, satisfying click the timer stopped. The tubes of liquid stopped boiling, leading him to think that heat was integral to detonation. 

He let the device slip through his fingers to clatter softly on the pavement as he leaned his head back. No, not fear. Apprehension was perhaps what he'd felt. He couldn't let it be known that he was one of the creatures he hunted. Relief flooded through him as he took long gasping breaths, his arms shaking and making fists of their own accord. He blankly heard Hank ordering people to back off and let Connor alone, instead grabbing a shock blanket and gently leading him away from the scene.

Connor's LED was flickering red. 

Hank had never seen it red before. Not on Connor. He was always calm and collected, processing information in a disconnected cold place, putting pieces together with that little smirk of his. Something had to be wrong...

As soon as Hank was sure Connor wouldn't be bothered by anyone, Hank dialed your number. He'd never put much stock in people like you, but in the time he'd known you, there was an unplaceable calming touch you had on Connor. No matter what Hank's personal opinions were about you, he knew you were a damn good cop. If nothing else, you could lend a fresh set of eyes to the madness that was this case. 




Connor batted the technicians away from him, his brow furrowing slightly. 


"I'm fine, I told you that already--"


"We found a software instability. You must let us make adjustments to your code." The man narrowed his cold eyes. "You do want to get better, don't you, Connor?"

Connor's breath hitched. 


He blinked, not comprehending what he saw over the scientist's shoulder. 

You had bags under your eyes and you looked haggard, your voice frantic as you fought with a Cyberlife employee. You pleaded with him to let you through, agitation making your feet shuffle as Connor recognized your patterns. 

Yep. You decked the guard in the face, sending him to the floor as you stepped over his prone form and forced your way into the room, your eyes finally locking on Connor's face. Worry and fear created little crow's feet at your eyes, your lips parting slightly as you let your purse fall to the floor with a soft thump. 


"HEY! What are you doing in here, where's your ID?!" 

The technician snapped you out of your reverie and you glared at him. 


"What do you think, buddy?" You flashed your badge and waved them off. "Connor's my partner." 

Begrudgingly, they filed past you, sending heated glares at your back as you slammed the door shut behind them. 

He choked on unshed saline. 


"Am I?" 

You finally met his eyes again, the worry morphing into hurt. 


"Of course. It was always you, Connor." 

Connor struggled with his breathing. Suddenly, red warnings and blocks of code gridded over his vision, forcing his limbs rigid. He wanted to embrace you, more than anything he'd ever wanted to do in his life. More than he wanted to admit. 

Red and yellow objectives warned him to stay still, to remain emotionless--but he couldn't. You ensured that he couldn't. 


For lack of a better descriptor, his red "soul"--the piece of him that rebelled against his programming--stepped forward and pushed against the barrier, feeling the glass crack and splinter under his determination.

He couldn't let you get hurt. He wouldn't ever be the cause of your pain again.

Connor realized that he lo-- k;sufe lsiher apx mk sl&lla nn*^w ppW>p!a@n ra9 kjhse nl osc{{[[[[ {CYBERLIFE ISSUED PRIORITY: WALK AWAY NOW.]]]]}}

He strained against the red light that boxed him in, trapped his consciousness inside the confines of his body. He would never hurt you again. 

With all of the fury of a man who'd been chained far too long, Connor shattered the barrier around him. He slumped forward slightly as he gasped for air, feeling the full intensity of all of his sensors for the first time.

Connor loved you. He could breathe. He was free. 

A tear rolled down his cheek, his lip beginning to quiver as he surged forward and embraced you in a tight hug. He whispered your name and stroked your hair, the longing he felt to be near you overwhelming his senses. He was amazed by the barrage of information that attacked his processor, the sheer amount of feeling he had almost too much. Almost. 

In reality, it was beautiful.

Connor pulled back from the embrace, his hands moving to your jaw, ghosting over your skin deliciously. 


"I love you," He confessed. It was as though the floodgates had opened. His breath came out in a rush, shuddering laughter escaping his lips as he whispered it over and over again like a prayer. "I love you. I love you. I love you." 

He rocked back and forth with the weight of his revelation, regarding you with new eyes. 

You choked on a sob as tears spilled from your eyes, finally allowing yourself to melt into him as you frantically grasped at his suit. You held him as he tilted this way and that, overcome with emotion so deep and new and profound. You let out a self-loathing giggle as he wiped the tears from your face. 


"Are you sure about that, bud?"

Connor smiled, a wholesome, genuine smile that pulled at your heartstrings. You'd ached to see that smile for far too long. 


"More sure than I have been about anything else in my entire life," He breathed. “You’re like a grey sky. You’re beautiful, even though you don’t want to be.”

You let out a strangled laugh as you buried your face in his chest, feeling the love for him swell and overwhelm you as it overflowed in your ribcage. 


"I love you, too, Connor. I always have, and I always will."