The beautiful girl you see in the photo next to me is Neb. We met a few years ago via tumblr and she has been a part of our group ever since. She was living here at her aunt's house in the USA, escaping a terrible situation that I will touch upon in a moment. She started getting an education and...
I normally don’t do this, but it’s gotten personal. The girl in the silver is my friend. Ya’ll recognize my purple ass.
What matters is our girl here is going through HELL. She came to visit her family in France for the holidays. only to be told she’s not welcome back, and she’s not being given access to her personal belongings.
She was trying to escape an abusive household. Homegirl was working her ass off here at school AND work and deserves the chance to live the goddamn American dream. She was trying to save herself, her mother and her brother from a horrible man who is oppressive and abusive.
Even if all you can do is share the link, I’m a thousand times over grateful. Honestly, this is so important.
Guys, this isn’t a damn joke.
The man won’t allow his wife to change the password on her own email, and he decides when the people in his house are allowed to speak.
You read that correctly.
Like my friend has to write on a post it note to ask questions.
Gosh, you just write Markus so well! Your fluff just makes me melt. You manage to nail a perfect balance of playful, affectionate and sincere. I’ve got a couple of requests in mind for when (if?) you reopen requests, but in the meantime I’m thoroughly enjoying Technophobia.
Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry, I haven’t been on in forever but I sincerely appreciate your feedback! I hope I can continue to work on my portrayal and do right by him!If you still have requests, please hit me up. I’ll be working on them. <3
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 3/?
Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Markus (Detroit: Become Human) & Reader, Markus (Detroit: Become Human)/Original Female Character(s), Hank Anderson/Connor, Blue-Haired Traci/Blue-Haired Traci's Girlfriend (Detroit: Become Human), Connor/Reader (Platonic)
Additional Tags: Slow Burn, fuck your third chapter kisses we're strapping in for the long haul, no beta reader we fic like men, just because this is a markus fic doesn't mean we disrespect north in this home, Cult references, platonic connor/reader because just because we ain't porkin him doesn't mean we can't be his friend, Pacifist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Abuse Mentions
Summary:
Technophobia (from Greek τέχνη technē, "art, skill, craft" and φόβος phobos, "fear") is the fear or dislike of advanced technology or complex devices, especially computers.
Warnings: Handcuffs? That’s about it. Nothing to see here, folks.
You were normally responsible. As a detective, as an adult, you knew better than to fuss around with your handcuffs. How many times had you been told in the academy to stop fidgeting? Not only did it make everyone around you nervous, it could end you in some sticky situations out in the real world.
Today, though, you were an extra level of, as Hank lovingly put it, ‘stupid thot.’ You had gotten bored while reading through some reports, fidgeting the whole way. At some point, your handcuffs ended up in your hands. A few minutes later, you managed to cuff your hands together.
“Son of a bitch---hey, Anderson!”
You swung your chair around to look helplessly at the millennial garbage heap of a man named Hank Anderson. He cocked a brow at you, then let out the loudest, most genuine laugh you had ever heard him give in your years at the Detroit Police Station.
“Oh, man, kid, you’ve really outdone yourself this time.”
Hank stood up, and you hoped that he was going to grab his keys and uncuff you, but instead he just mussed your hair and casually spun your chair.
“Hank, aren’t you gonna help me?!”
“Nope. I’ve gotta get home, I’m late for my dinner date with Sumo.”
“Asshole!”
“And proud of it!”
You were left alone with your thoughts, your frustration, and of course, your handcuffs. With an aggravated sigh, you smashed your head down against your keyboard.
It had been a few minutes, and you were getting ready to resign yourself to waiting until someone came in tomorrow morning to release you from your self-induced hell. That was until you heard steady, almost methodical footsteps. You glanced up and saw a gentle pair of brown eyes analyzing you.
“Connor!”
“Evening, detective.” His LED swirled yellow for a few seconds before it settled back to blue again.
“Can I ask you something?” Connor’s head tilted slightly to the side, his imperfectly perfect little wisp of hair following.
You let out a sigh.
“Go for it.”
“When one wishes to engage in what they call kinky shenanigans, isn’t it more pleasurable to have someone else handcuff you?” The curve of a shit-eating grin was touching his freckled face.
“You are not funny, you devastatingly attractive cop-roomba!” You responded in kind, lightly kicking his hip.
Connor merely shook his head, fishing a set of keys from his pocket.
Your eyes lit up, and you saw the ghost of that grin again as he shook the keys just out of your reach.
“C’mon, Connor, this isn’t funny---” You reached as well as you could with your hands together, stumbling after a few seconds. Primal fear rushed through you, that fear of smashing onto the ground---
Connor grabbed you effortlessly, pulled you close, and rested your cuffed hands against his chest. He smiled down at you, and you swore your heart stopped. Your cheeks were flushed red now, and you knew you were close enough to count his freckles. His LED circled between yellow and blue for a few seconds.
There was a brief but heavy silence between the two of you, your heart beating hard in your chest, enough that you feared Connor could feel it, too.
Connor smiled sweetly, then gently sat you down and un-cuffed you. The handcuffs hit the floor, and he remained crouched down at your level. That damn smile was bound to ruin you.
“Detective, how did you end up in those handcuffs?”
“I was fidgeting...just fucking around with my hands because I was antsy.”
You shrugged, drawing in a small breath when you felt Connor’s hands take yours. They were surprisingly smooth and soft, but they felt solid and strong.
You looked at him, blinking a few times. He smiled again.
"How about you hold my hands, instead?”
You were pretty much about to overheat internally from blushing. It was such a good thing you weren’t an android.
“Connor, did Hank put you up to this?!”
He seemed genuinely hurt, his LED flashing yellow for a few seconds. He stared at you intensely for a few moments, like he was going to come up with a scathing retort he had learned from the fowl-mouthed lieutenant.
Connor was still. You held your breath.
He kissed you, and you would have fallen out of your chair if your android kissing partner hadn’t steadied you with a strong arm around your back. You swore you were having the weirdest fever dream ever---
When he broke the kiss, you were panting, borderline love-drunk and terrified at the same time. Connor grinned.
“Was that a satisfactory answer? Would you like me to elaborate?”
This damn android was going to be the death of you. Or, at least, the reason you had a dopey grin on your face all of the next day.
Could you perhaps do something with Markus who has a human s/o who works to repair androids at Jericho and often neglects their own needs. Markus, catching wind of just how long they’ve been awake, takes then away and makes them rest. Preferably with a lot of cuddling?
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