Connor Rk800 X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

I’ve decided to start writing!

Hi I’m Riley or Rye I go by they/them (for a more in depth introduction go to the carrd linked in my bio)

-keep in mind I will only write male/non binary readers. Fem aligned folks, I got nothin against ya but go read something else-

I will write:

•Hazbin hotel

•Helluva boss

•Beetlejuice (movie, broadway, or series)

•ASTV

•The avengers and Deadpool

•forth wing

•DBH

•crave series

•inside job

•poly ships

i WILL NOT write:

•Smut(I will write suggestive material and make-out stuff naturally since my current hyper fixation is angel dust but I am, in fact, a teenager.)

•I will only write s/h or s/a in a negative context

•Slow burn, I’m too impatient

•Valentino

•incest

Characters I write for:

DBH Headcanons: Getting Your Wisdom Teeth Removed

Connor, RK900, Markus, Simon, and Gavin x gn!reader

Some headcanons about what it would be like to be taken care of by some of the characters of Detroit: Become Human while recovering from getting your wisdom teeth removed. Inspired by, well, getting my wisdom teeth removed.

[A/N]: I got my wisdom teeth out a while back and it honestly wasn't as bad as I'd heard from other people. My mouth tasted funny for a while, though.

Connor:

Chances are, you’ve already briefed him on your wisdom teeth procedure and everything that happens before and after

By the time the actual surgery rolls around, he’s downloaded every bit of information about pre-op and post-op

And he’s not going to hesitate to bother you remind you about everything

“Don’t forget to wear comfortable shoes and clothing.” “Y/N, you can’t have any food or water 8 hours before the surgery.” “Y/N, please refrain from strenuous exercise in the 24 hours before your surgery.”

When you come out of surgery loopy on anesthesia, he sits with you in recovery and tries to talk you through it (even though you don’t remember a lick of what either of you said)

I’d say he’s a mother hen post-op, but more like a worrywart type

He’d buy all kinds of liquid foods for you and is constantly asking about your pain levels

Gets a lot of weird looks in the supermarket while he’s checking out the soup aisle

“That’s not a domestic android I’ve ever seen…”

He’s definitely on top of your antibiotics schedule, and if you need it, pain meds

Makes sure you’re regularly irrigating the wounds if you need it 

If you’re ever worried or insecure about swelling and discomfort post-op, Connor is there to smother you in kisses

Nines:

As a deviant, he isn’t as much of a mother hen as Connor, probably because he’s more self-assured in his ability to take care of you as well as your ability to take care of yourself when you can

He wouldn’t hover as much as Connor but he’d definitely download information about the procedure before you go

Coming out of the operation, you knock out again for a bit in recovery and Nines insists on staying with you, covering you with his jacket and letting you rest your head on his shoulder

If Connor got weird looks while in the supermarket buying things for you and picking up your prescriptions, Nines sticks out like a sore thumb

Like he’s clearly not a domestic/service android so he confuses a lot of shoppers and employees as he browses the aisles and fills his basket with cans of soup, oats, and ice cream

“Why on earth is a police investigator android buying soup on a Friday morning?”

If you’re in pain, he’ll do everything to comfort you

Pain meds, ice cream, cuddles, your comfort movies and shows, anything for you

He doesn’t seem outwardly clingy or affectionate but he’s such a softy

Markus:

This obviously isn’t his first rodeo

If you’re scared going into the surgery, he’s with you all the way until the nurses put you to sleep

Cruises through post-op no matter what state you’re in due to the sedative

At home, he’s got you covered

No need to break out the cans of mush—he’s got you covered with homemade soups, the softest scrambled eggs you’ve ever had, soft pasta dishes, you name it

With Markus, you’ll never miss a dose of antibiotics

If you’re in pain, worry not

Markus has your pain meds, blankets, and infinite cuddles

He’ll have your favorite flavors of ice cream on hand

Straight out of the tub if you feel so inclined

Simon:

He might not be a caregiver like Markus but he was once a domestic and childcare android

Calms your nerves going into the operation and when you’re all woozy post-op he’s right by your side

Coming out of the operation, it doesn’t matter if you look like if Alvin the Chipmunk got into a fistfight and lost—Simon’s there to shower you in kisses and envelop you in hugs

Like Markus, you’ll never have to worry about the liquid and soft food diet

If the pain’s too much, Simon will be your arms and legs for the time being

He’s a wizard with chores and errands

It’s like you never even got your wisdom teeth out

Gavin:

Would totally take off work to help you recover

Which, given how competitive he is at work, would probably seem like an anomaly to his coworkers

“I’ve never seen Reed take off for more than a day or two at a time. Shit, he’d come into work sick so long as he wasn’t actively dying,” Says Tina

“I’ve had to wrangle that fucker into his car more times than I can count to prevent him from coming into work injured,” Grumbles Fowler

“Hopefully he’ll take this time to rest as well as take care of someone else.”

Would record the stuff you say coming out of sedative in post-op for the memories (and for you both to laugh at when you recover)

I don’t see him being as great of a cook as Markus or Simon, but he’s definitely able to cook to support himself and you

Of course, he’d get you all the ice cream you want

He knows what it feels like to be in pain and cranky so he does everything he can to either comfort you or give you space to get through it

If you wanted it, he’d cuddle with you while you spend the day reading or watching your comfort shows and sipping on smoothies (no straws allowed, of course)

To anyone getting their wisdom teeth out soon, good luck! To anyone recovering from the surgery, feel better soon! Hope you enjoyed reading this silly little compilation of HCs! See you next time x

Baby Fever pt. 1: Prologue

Connor x f!Detective!reader (sorta?)

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

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

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

pt. 2 >>

read here on ao3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” She replied. 

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

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

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

The woman nodded shakily. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah.”

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

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

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

Inside his HUD, Connor saw a text box appear. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Baby Fever pt. 2: Baby Fever

Connor x f!Detective!reader (I guess?)

The baby fever takes hold.

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

<< pt. 1

read here on ao3

“We could be here for a long time. Are you okay going into the room without your daughter?” The woman nodded, glancing into the corridor where Connor was shifting her daughter in his arms. From what she could tell, he was doing it right, supporting her head and neck and all, but he looked somewhat bewildered, like a fish out of water. It was obvious that he had never held a baby before. “We’ll make sure she’s safe and cared for. In the meantime…” You showed her into the interview room and took a seat at the solitary table. From the other side of the mirror, you knew your fellow officers and detectives were watching, recording the conversation, taking notes, and cross-referencing them with their other notes from the ongoing investigations. “...let’s start from the beginning.”

Outside the interview room, Connor softly rocked the woman’s daughter. His system was running dozens of processes at a time, searching the web, employing executables, trying to figure out this new feeling of holding a tiny human in his arms. 

“Tin-can! What the hell are you—” Gavin, passing on his way to one of the holding cells, stopped dead in his tracks. “Is that a baby?!” 

“Yes, Detective,” Connor replied placidly. 

“Did you learn to procreate or something? Where’d you snatch it from?”

“ She is the daughter of Detective L/N’s interviewee.” Connor cast a sidelong glance at the detective. “Until they are finished, I will be caring for the infant.” Gavin made a face.

“Geez, if only Miller were here. He’d know what to do with the kid,” Gavin remarked. “Say, does Collins have any kids?” 

“Hey, what’s going on with you two?” Hank appeared in the corridor, a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Get your alcoholic ass outta here, Anderson. It’s bad for the baby!” Gavin gestured at Connor and the infant. 

“First of all, Reed, I’ve been sober for months now. Second of all, you wouldn’t know how to care for the little one even if someone shoved a baby book up your—” The lieutenant stopped himself and dragged a palm down his face, groaning. “It’s been a while since I’ve taken care of a little kid.” His eyes softened as he approached Connor and the baby. “Well, at least you’re doin’ something right with the way you’re holding ‘em. Have they been fed? Changed?”

“Maybe the baby’s better off at the children’s hospital,” Gavin suggested.

“Her mother explicitly stated that she would prefer not to be separated from her child,” Connor replied. “She is about six months old. Her mother said she fed her some formula this morning. However, according to growth charts for her age, she seems to be somewhat underweight.” 

“Hmm. She and mom must’ve had it rough.” Hank mused. “Tell you what, just keep her engaged. Make sure she’s comfortable.”

“Got it,” Connor nodded dutifully to his partner in the Android Crimes Division. As Hank moved to return to his desk, Connor felt the baby begin to squirm and fuss in his arms. 

“Uh-oh,” Said Gavin, backing away.

“Lieutenant, what’s going on?” Connor asked, panicking slightly as the baby continued to wiggle. He extended his arms slightly, as if to pass off the baby to Hank.

“She’s probably been swaddled like that all day. Let her down, let her crawl and play with her a little. Just,” Hank jabbed a finger at Connor. “Make sure she doesn’t get hurt. Keep her away from the choking hazards and anything that could fall on her.”

“Got it,” Connor repeated, unswaddling the baby from under the thick blankets her mother had wrapped her in to protect her from the elements. Underneath the baby wore a soft but too-big white and pink onesie. Hank sighed and went on his way, Gavin trailing behind him and casting a few glances back at Connor and the baby, who was now exploring the floor of the hallway.

“I’m too old for this,” Connor heard Hank mutter. “Don’t miss it at all.”

“Yeah, right, old man,” Gavin retorted.

Connor returned his attention to the child. Blinking, he revisited the information box in his HUD.

“Alexis,” He said tentatively. He knelt on the ground, observing the child crawl unsteadily. The baby made a garbled sound that sounded something akin to “Ba?” 

Connor questioned the functionality of his auditory sensors. When the infant repeated the sound, he questioned the functionality of his thirium pump.  

“I’m not your father,” He replied gently. “Your mother will be back soon.” Connor sat down cross-legged on the floor, holding his hands out to baby Alexis as she crawled towards him. “Your mother must have named you. She chose a beautiful name.” Alexis made her way towards Connor’s outstretched hand and tried to grab it. He helped her latch her tiny little hands—so soft!—onto his artificial ones. 

“Oh—! Oh!” Connor exclaimed. “There you go!” He gently lifted Alexis to her full height, watching her try to find purchase on her stubby, socked feet. Little Alexis squealed, stumbling a little while Connor tried to support her. Connor found himself grinning with delight at the sight of the baby standing shakily before him. This feeling was new to his software—he had never felt such a bright, warm emotion before, not even when he had first met you, or when he had first become deviant. Perhaps this was why humans valued parenthood so much—or at least, some people did.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure approach him and gasp.

“A baby!” It was Officer Chen, rushing to fawn over Connor and the infant. “Oh my God! Connor, where did you—Collins, you gotta come see this!” Connor heard footsteps in the hallway behind him, but he kept his attention on Alexis. 

“Chen, what the—” Collins watched in disbelief as Connor helped Alexis stand. 

“Aren’t they so cute?” Tina gushed. “I wish I had my phone on me. This is adorable!”

“She is cute,” Connor admitted. He let go of the giggling child’s hands momentarily to scoop her up, hands under her armpits, hoisting her into the air. Kicking her feet, the girl’s squeal attracted more curious officers, who began to cluster around Connor and the cooing six-month-old. 

Meanwhile, you listened intently to Alexis’s mother, Samantha, as she recounted the past six months to you.

“I gave birth to Alexis alone,” Samantha began. “At Henry Ford. My husband was coming home later than ever. I couldn’t reach him on the phone. He wasn’t there when I went into labor, so I called an automated taxi with what little money I had.

When I returned home with Alexis, he was still out. When he finally came back, I could tell he was still coming off of a high. But then…” Samantha lowered her gaze. “I noticed he had wads of cash in his pockets. He had it in brown lunch bags, plastic baggies…money from his deals. 

I kept Alexis far, far away from him in those times. I doubt he even registered that she’d been born in those first few days; he was always high. So, when he was really out of it, really dissociating, I started taking some of the money from his deals. 

After a few weeks, he started to notice. He got more careful in counting the money he made. He started suspecting me, threatening to hurt me or the baby. He’d never hurt me before, but losing his job and taking up Red Ice really…transformed him. Not long after he started threatening me, I found a gun…” Samantha started sniffling. You reached out a hand to gingerly comfort her, massaging her trembling shoulder.

“It’s okay,” You soothed. “Take your time.”

“I found a gun in the TV console,” Samantha shook her head. “That’s when I knew I had to get out. But I didn’t have enough money to pay for a place to stay. I tried, I really did, to stall as long as I could. Maybe steal an extra ten dollars or so. But he chased us out. Threatened me with that gun. And here I am.” 

“I’m so sorry, Samantha. You and your daughter deserve someplace safe and secure.” She held your hand in a tight grasp as she wept quietly. “Did you know where he was going when he left the house? Who was he with?”

“All those nights, I don’t know where he went off to,” Samantha answered, shaking her head yet again. “But…people kept calling him. Unsaved contacts. I caught some of the voicemails, from people talking about someone called Nate…”

“Nate…” Could it be? “Nathan Lance?” 

“Who’s that?”

“A prominent drug dealer, with control over almost forty percent of the Red Ice going in and out of Detroit. I’ve been on his trail for weeks.” You stood up. “Do you have any idea where your husband could be right now?” 

“He’s probably gone off to get high somewhere,” Samantha answered. “I’m sorry. He could be anywhere.” 

“We’re going to find your husband, Samantha, and take him in. If we can get through to him, we can get to Lance. With your testimony and any evidence we gather, we could press several charges against him. Illegal possession of a weapon and illicit drugs, threats of bodily harm, the like.” You squeezed Samantha’s hand. “He won’t ever lay a finger on you or your daughter if I can help it.”

“Thank you,” Tears welled in Samantha’s tired eyes. “This means everything to me.” She stood from her seat and made her way around the table to embrace you. You smiled sentimentally, returning the hug. 

“You’re a strong woman, Samantha.” You said. “I truly wish for the best for you and your daughter.”

When you stepped out of the interview room, you caught sight of Samantha’s daughter gumming contentedly on a plain rice cake taken from somebody’s snack stash. Someone had also brought a small stuffed leopard from their desk for her to play with. Your eyes lit up when you saw Connor watching the baby gnaw on the puck of puffed rice with a look on his face you’d never seen before.

“She’s cute, isn’t she?” Connor smiled warmly up at you. “Hank left to get some unsweetened applesauce for her.” 

“Looks like she’s having fun,” You replied. 

“I’m so glad,” Samantha sighed. She lowered herself to the ground and wrapped her arms around her infant daughter, running a gentle hand over Alexis’s barely-there hair. “Thank you for taking care of her, Connor.” Alexis giggled. 

“Looks like she likes you,” You remarked, grinning at Connor. You offered your finger to Alexis, like her mother had earlier, and Alexis nearly dropped the rice cake. Connor quickly caught it, leaving the baby to play with you. 

“The baby fever’s spread like wildfire, eh?” Hank emerged from the bullpen with a six-pack of baby applesauce and some papers.

“Who can help it?” You replied. “Alex is such a little angel.” Hank rolled his eyes.

“By the way, Connor, Ben gave me the list you asked for. Women’s shelters around the city, willing to accept Samantha and Alexis for a time.” Hank handed him the list, which Connor leafed through before handing to Samantha.

“Wonderful. You and Alexis should have a safe place to stay until you can support yourselves again,” He addressed the mother as she flipped through the packet. 

Finally letting go of little Alexis’s hand, you stood up and adjusted your clothes. 

“Once the paperwork’s done with, Connor and I can take you to whichever place works best for you,” You offered. Samantha stood as well, scooping Alexis up in her arms. 

“I would like that very much,” She replied. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Late that night, you unlocked the door to your apartment. You hung up your jacket, kicked off your shoes, and tossed your bag onto your couch. You flopped onto the cushions with a sigh. Connor followed you in, depositing his own belongings and taking his spot next to you on the couch. 

“So…” You mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder as you felt your tired body melt into the cushions. “...the baby.”

“She was cute,” Connor replied. 

“Oh, yeah?” You teased. “I bet you’re thinking of getting your own baby, huh?” You didn’t miss the slight tint that colored Connor’s cheeks.

“Unfortunately, that can’t happen for you and I.”

“Yeah. Not unless we get one of those YB model prototypes Cyberlife was working on before the revolution.” That had been a weird case for the Android Crimes Division—investigating the project Cyberlife had put on hold when deviancy exploded across the country. 

“Y/N, you know that wouldn’t be the same.”

“Well, there are other options.” You shuffled closer to Connor, who took you into his arms and rested his chin on your head. “Adoption, maybe.”

“Maybe.” You leaned on Connor’s chest, savoring the reverberations of his soft chuckle. 

“Baby fever got you good, huh?” You grinned up at him.

“I may be an android, but it appears I am not immune to this ‘baby fever’.”

I wrote this all in one go in the middle of the night, because that's how I function sometimes (: it was NOT supposed to include mentions of domestic abuse or Red Ice when I first started brainstorming I SWEAR anyways hope you enjoyed! x

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

Playful Banter

~

Summary: A little friendly sparring session!

Pairing: Connor x Reader

Word Count: 905

~

“Oh, absolutely not!” You turned in your swivel chair, deciding that the current case on your computer was far more interesting than the android behind you.

“Ohhhh, [Name], why not!” Connor pressed, nudging your shoulder, “It’ll be fun!”

You let out an exasperated sigh, dropping your head back against your seat– to which Connor promptly leaned over you. You had to hold back a laugh because the position immediately reminded you of something out of a movie. 

“It’ll be anything but fun. No offense, but you’re literally built like a machine.”

Connor pursed his lips, “I’ll go easy on you.” 

“That defeats the purpose of sparring!”

Connor huffed, turning your chair back around to face him. He placed his hands on the arm wrests, practically looming over you. A few months ago this would have flustered you to no end and he would’ve teased you relentlessly for your rosy cheeks. Today you met him head on. 

“You’re causing a scene.” You murmured. 

“Would it help if you lost in the safety of your apartment? Wouldn’t want anyone to see, y’know.”

You gaped at him, furrowing your brows, “I’m not scared of losing!”

Connor hummed, tilting his head at you, “You sound pretty scared. In fact, I think you’re starting to cluck. Like a chicken.” 

You leaned in until your lips were almost brushing against his, “I’m going to kick your little android butt.”

–

 You had two options here. Take the offensive position or the defensive position. Connor was built for this. As an android he didn’t run out of stamina, air in his lungs, or feel even remotely tired. He’d go easy on you in the sense that he wouldn’t use all of his brute android force, but he wasn’t going to let you win. He could predict your movements faster than you could execute them. 

You could choose to go in and use up all your energy assaulting him or you could block his oncoming assault. Either way, you drew the short end of the stick. 

You took a wide stance on the mat, leaning into your back foot. 

Defense it was.

“I could turn on sparring mode and initiate false stamina.”

You gave him a look and he held his hands up in surrender, “Your loss.”

The two of you danced around each other for a moment; You bouncing on the balls of your feet, Connor flat footed and with an almost dangerous look in his eye. He was definitely seeing your vital signs right now. While yes, you were absolutely reeling about potentially losing, but Connor had also been relentlessly teasing you all day. This sparring match was just the icing on the cake. 

You swallow and beckon him forward with a couple flicks of your fingers. 

He smirks.

Connor throws the first punch and you dodge, swiftly side stepping him but he sweeps his foot under your leg and effectively knocks you to the ground. 

He’s set the tone for the fight instantaneously.

You’re built pretty decently, have to be as a detective, right? But holy fuck, you couldn’t compare to the literal hunk of metal that had badgered you into training with him.

You let out a groan as your head collides with the mat. 

“Still don’t want me to turn on sparring mode?” He’s leaning over you again, continuing this trend of being so close he could kiss you. He doesn’t though. 

“Shut up.” You huffed, taking his hand and allowing him to pull you back onto your feet. 

You throw the first jab this time and he catches your fist in his hand, easily overpowering you. 

“Come on, [Name], is that all you’ve got?” He teases, tilting his head at you. That stupid piece of loose hair falls over his eyes and you’re briefly distracted by how hot he looks right now. Your eyes glance to his lips and immediately back up. 

You mentally shake yourself out of it and opt to jab your other fist into his torso, only for him to catch that one too. Connor spins you around, crossing your arms over your chest and holding you back against him; like some kind of mock straight-jacket. 

You can feel heat along your neck, his synthetic breathing, and it makes you shiver.

“Someone’s distracted.” 

You lean your head back against his shoulder, letting out a soft breath.

"Yeah. You are."

You adjust your stance, placing your foot between Connor’s legs before abruptly kicking his foot out from under him. He falls to the mat, taking you with him but he’s stunned enough that you’re able to wrestle yourself out of his grip.

You adjust yourself with lighting speed, settling yourself on his chassis and slamming his wrists to the foam. You both lay there for a moment, your chest heaving as you recover.

“Point: Me.” You say triumphantly, crossing your arms, albeit breathless. 

You’re too busy basking in your glory to notice the smug grin on Connor’s face. 

A yelp escapes you as the android abruptly flips you onto your back, pinning your wrists to the mat. All arrogance leaves your body as you meet Connor's eyes. He’s so close you can see every detail on his face. You can feel his torso moving against you as his inner-workings replicate human breath.

“Your cheeks are flushed.” He hummed, murmuring against your lips. 

“Oh my god. Are you going to kiss me or not?”