i just know connor looooves having his hands on you at any given moment.
something about feeling the softness of your skin beneath his own slightly firmer synthetic palms, a warmth he himself lacked making home under his fingertips; he adores it.
in public, he knows what he should and shouldn't do. it can be as simple as his fingers laced through yours, or his hand resting on the small of your back whilst waiting in line somewhere. you figure he might find it groundingโa welcome distraction from the bombardment of new emotions he's handling every day now.
at home, though? oh honey, it's free rein.
sometimes, he only needs one hand on you. most of the time, it's both. if you're sitting on the couch watching a show, one hand is going to be splayed across the expanse of your stomach, while the other plays with your hair or fidgets with your fingers. in bed, he doesn't let you do any half-cuddling; lucky for you, his arms don't fall asleep, and he's never too warm, so he pulls you close like he needs you to be a part of him before he can find his peace at the end of the day.
if you're in the kitchen, throwing together something simple, his hands will find purchase on your hips, his chin finding its home in the junction between your shoulder and neck. or at the table when you're eating, a hand on your thigh or your feet across his legs. as long as he's close to you, he's happy.
he just can't help it. every touch is a reminder of the humanity that you hold, something he adores about you so, so much.
cw - sfw, deviant connor, dadcoded hank, gn reader, reader is a detective at dpd, literally just fluffy pre-relationship to relationship content, intentional lowercase
~ 2.5k wc
connor had a great memory; he had the capacity to remember absolutely anything he wanted with zero limitations.
key word, anything he wanted.
or, no, not wanted. he wasn't supposed to want. he couldn't. what he needed to remember to complete his mission. his obligation. it was all a matter of what was important and what wasn't.
somewhere along the line, you became one of the important things to him.
you had no relation to the mission; you weren't even assigned to the deviancy case. connor only caught glimpses of you throughout the precinct, maybe at jimmy's after a particularly grueling work week when hank needed a drink. you weren't supposed to be one of the important things.
yet, every one of those glimpses became an important memoryโsomething he stored in a special folder to sort through whenever the casework was light. a smile in his direction, a laugh he heard you share with a coworker. maybe he should have been looking through evidence in his free time, and maybe he pretended he was when hank asked him about the 'space cadet look' on his face.
it took a while for you to realize how good his memory was.
sure, you knew he was a prototype android, better than any android to hit the public marketโyou didn't doubt his memory was good. he functioned like an extremely handsome, walking and talking supercomputer, for christ's sake.
perhaps, it just took a while for you to realize where his priorities were placed when it came to his memory.
when connor deviated, that amazing memory of his finally came in handy for something other than his cases.
it started with coffee.
one morning, you stopped to get coffee before you got to the precinct. something too expensive and too sweet, just a treat.
connor only interacted with you once that day, when you said good morning to him and hank like you always did, holding that overpriced coffee in your hand as you made your way past his desk to your own.
that same coffee order was on your desk the next day. and the next, and the day after that.
you wouldn't have known who it was if you hadn't looked up to find the culprit and seen him fiddling with his coin, subtly watching you while hank prattled on about some new evidence. if you hadn't caught the way he smiled when you raised the coffee in a cheers motion towards him, before he snapped his attention back to an annoyed hank.
then, it was flowers.
one day, when he had seen chris ordering flowers online for his wifeโcertainly not something he was supposed to do during working hoursโconnor found himself wondering if you liked flowers.
he had learned that flowers were often gifted as a show of affection or gratitude. the two of you were not particularly close; just work friends. he feared the implications of a gift like this might compromise the stability of the relationship friendship he was trying to build with you. he spent multiple days running through the possible outcomes in his head before he concluded that the chance to see you smile because of him overrode the nerves.
that was when the desk snooping started.
when hank found him standing at your desk before you arrived, he raised an eyebrow and flopped down in his chair.
"lookin' for something?"
"i was observing the detective's desk in hopes of finding information that could help me to get in good graces with them," he paused, contemplating the implications of the question on the forefront of his mind, "do you know if the detective likes flowers?"
hanks eyebrows shot up at the question, surprise painting his features so vividly connor reran the question through his social relations program to figure out if he had said something wrong.
"flowers? are you trying to get in their good graces or asking them to go steady?"
connor's eyebrows furrowed at this, LED cycling yellow as he processed what his older counterpart was saying to him.
"lieutenant, what you are suggesting is highly unprofessional. i am simply trying to proactively build strong morale with our colleagues."
the cobalt hued flush on the tips of his ears called bullshit.
hank had noticed the sudden interest in you that connor had picked up, and as much as he wanted to tease the android, it was too damn early to try and question him about it. so, he acquiesced.
"hell, i don't know, kid." he paused, scratching his beard as he thought about it, "pretty sure i saw them bring some in one day, smelled like a damn flower shop at their desk for a week. can't remember what type, but when chen asked 'bout 'em they said somethin' about 'liking the way they brightened up a room.'" hank air quoted you, hoping it was enough to get connor away from your desk before you arrived.
connor made a quiet hm noise, nodding and making his way to the desk across from hank's.
"thank you, lieutenant."
there was a vase full of white chrysanthemums on your desk the next morning.
he filed away the expression of shock and joy on your face like he would a bullet casing or a witness statement; something he would later analyze with the precision of a surgeon with his hand on the scalpel.
two weeks later? a vase of pink carnations.
he caught himself smiling when he heard officer chen giggling at your desk, asking if you had a secret admirer, and your cheeks flushed as you looked at the flowers.
"something like that," he didn't have to look at you to know you were looking at him.
this continued for months. coffee, flowers, some little trinket that you had offhandedly mentioned or looked at online during breaks. he couldn't help the warmth that spread through him when he saw the surprise on your face, the smile that always followed.
the two of you never spoke about it, but you did get closer.
lunch breaks spent with connor and hank, rolling your chair over to his desk to see what he was working on when your own work was slow, showing him memes that he couldn't quite understand but loved to see you laugh at.
he even began to frequent the break room he had been avoiding since his first day, just to have a chance to talk to you about the weather, or a new episode of some show you had told him about.
it didn't take you long to admit to yourself that you liked him, a lot.
connor was still learning what his feelings meant, but he knew he cared about you in an entirely different way than he cared about hank, who loved to tease him about his behavior around you.
he said connor had a crush.
connor thought about that for days. he felt like the nerves were frying his processors.
it felt like any other day when he showed up at the department. he looked forward to getting there most days, getting to see you, and do what he did best: work.
so, coffee in his hand and some pep in his step, he practically frolicked through the front doors, waltzing through the lobby and back towards the office.
something was immediately different when he walked in. first, hank was already there. he knew he would be, but the fact that he was smiling when connor walked in? odd. hank was never happy in the morning.
then, when he started towards your desk, he saw you. you seldom arrived before him, so seeing you here this early had him feeling conflicted. of course, he was happy to see you; he always was, but a part of him was concerned at your early arrival. maybe you had a case that required a little extra work?
when you noticed him walking towards your desk, you offered him the same smile you always did, chirping a happy good morning! to him as he set your coffee down.
"good morning, detective. you're here quite early, is everything alright?" he tilted his head as he watched you bring the cup up to your lips, taking a sip. at his mention of your early arrival, he could sense that your heart sped up a little bit. noted.
you shook your head, smiling up at him, "everything is fine, connor. just... extra work to tackle." you lifted the coffee towards him, nodding, "thank you for the coffee. definitely needed it this morning."
he could tell you were lying, but not out of malice. it made him even more suspicious, but he didn't want to push.
"i've had a significant effect on your caffeine intake, i really shouldn't indulge you." anyone who didn't know him wouldn't realize he was teasing, but the awkward little smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.
you simply smiled at him before turning back to your monitor. you seemed... off, this morning. it was putting him on edge, not knowing what was on your mind.
he took it as a sign to make his way to his desk, where hank was hiding behind a newspaper, not-so-inconspicuously watching the whole interaction.
"good morning, lieutenant." all he got was a nod in response. seriously, what the hell was going on?
when he finally went to take his seat, that's when he saw it:
a little saint bernard stuffed animal sitting directly in front of his monitor on his desk. it looked just like sumo.
if he was looking at himself, the scene probably would have given him deja vu; the way he looked around to find the person who had left it there, only to see you hiding behind your coffee as you smiled.
it was a sight, for sure. seeing connor look at the plush, then at you, then at the plush. his lips were parted as he stared at it, and his reaction was starting to make you nervous.
before he even realized it, you were standing next to his desk, shifting your weight from foot to foot.
"i really wanted to get you something, as a thank you for everything you've gotten me the past couple months." you were looking down at your feet as you spoke, hands behind your back, "i even consulted hank, i hope you like it."
connor had never been at a loss for words before; he had never felt dumb. until now.
"i.. like dogs."
he could practically feel hank cringing from across the desks. he was cringing at himself.
you finally looked up, smiling a little as you watched him pick it up, "i tried to pick one that looked just like sumo. i know you really love him, and i figured maybe you'd like to have a reminder of him at work with you."
maybe connor would have heard your heart racing if he wasn't so focused on the way his thirium pump was beating at the speed of light, systems struggling to keep up with the overwhelm of emotions he was feeling.
you had gotten him a gift.
he hadn't realized how loud his silence was until you started rambling, fidgeting with your fingers in front of him.
"it's kinda dumb, and small. i just- i wanted to show you that i really appreciate everything you've done, and i didn't really know if there was anything else you'd like, and you talk about sumo so much- i totally understand if you don't like it-"
"i love it."
when you looked back up at him, he was smiling. it was the biggest smile you had ever seen on him. a beautiful sight.
"really?"
he nodded, smoothing the little ears on the plushie back, the same way he did with sumo, "it's perfect. and not dumb. i love it." he affirmed, bringing his attention up to your face, which was flushed at this point.
it felt like you had been holding your breath through the entire interaction, and could finally breathe. you smiled at him, shoulders dropping a little in relief.
"good, that's- that's really good. i'm glad you like it." you beamed as you watched him turn it towards hank, who, in classic dad fashion, smiled all goofy like and gave him a big thumbs up.
then, hank tilted his head towards you and raised an eyebrow, eyes still trained on connor like they were having a silent conversation. you furrowed your eyebrows, about to turn back to connor when you felt arms encasing your shoulders, slightly cold hands pressed against your back.
connor was hugging you.
with wide eyes, you wound your arms around his torso, cheek pressed against his chest. it was a little awkward, as though you were both learning to hug, but it was perfect. you nearly melted when he rested his chin against your head and quietly murmured, "thank you."
you only nodded a little, hands curled into his jacket. you didn't trust words right now.
when the two of you pulled back, you saw the blue tint rushing to his ears as he cleared his throat, not out of necessity but nerves.
"i apologize if this is forward, but i would like to- or, would you like to accompany me to- i'd like to take you out. on a romantic outing. or, a date? if you'd like to. because i would. like to take you out. on a date, i mean."
hank felt like he was watching a train wreck happen in slow motion. so much for all of the coaching he had been giving the android.
but you? you were smiling like he had just offered you a million dollars.
"i would love to go on a date with you, connor." you had never seen your cool, calm, and collected connor so nervous over something. a familiar warmth bloomed in your chest, knowing it was you he was nervous about.
when he shot hank a look that said 'i did it!' you could only giggle, turning away to get to your desk before more of your colleagues started to filter in for the day.
connor took you on a date not too long after that. and then another one, and another, and it was like nothing changed, even if everything had.
the sumo plushie never left his desk, alongside other small things you learned he was interested in. small figurines from shows he found himself enraptured by, a pair of too-big sunglasses he had stolen from your apartment one day after you put them on him and said he looked too cute not to keep them, any little memento that reminded him of how full of love his life was.
and you?
there was coffee waiting for you every morning, usually with a silly little note scribbled on the side. your desk always had fresh flowers before the last ones wilted. and directly next to your monitor? a picture of connor and sumo; a candid of connor laughing as sumo licked his face.
connor had a great memory, but he didn't need it to know he loved this little life of his. it was memorialized in the little things that surrounded him, the details painted vividly on the canvas that was his life.
you knew he had a great memory, but it didn't stop you from reminding him of how loved he was. and he didn't need it to remember to remind you of the exact same thing, every single day.
a/n i had the worst weekend writer's block blehh
thank you so much for all of the love on my other works !! this has no real plot, i just sat down and started writing with no end in sight and crossed my fingers that it would become something. still unsure about it.
everybody feel so free to send requests im in such a rut rn
not proofread but i shall get to it tmro, thank you for reading !!!
just curious // connor [detroit become human] x gn!reader
cw: gn!reader; alcohol consumption [reader]; flirting; discussion around android genitals
wc: 1.5k
โConnor, can I ask you something?โ
Connor turns his attention away from Hank, who unsteadily makes his way across the restaurant to the restroom, and over to you. You are presently fidgeting with the straw wrapper from your drink, wrapping it around your finger, unfurling it, then repeating the motions again and again.
โOf course,โ he responds, cocking his head inquisitively, eyes drawn to the gesturing of your nervous fingers. โWhat is it you would like to know?
You shift in your seat and let out a small huff of air, the question spinning around and around on your tongue. โSo, I know some androids are built forโwell, for certain tasks.โ
He nods once. โThatโs correct.โ
โOkay, so likeโฆโ You drift off, eyes darting from Connorโs face to your drink and back again.
โYou seem uncomfortable, are you feeling alright?โ
โYeah, yeah, Iโm fine. What Iโm trying to ask isโshit, okayโdo all androids have genitals? Or is it just the ones that are built for, umโฆfor romance?โ
Connor hesitates, seeming momentarily confused by your question. โNo, not all androids are equipped for sexual intercourse. In fact, most are not.โ
โI see.โ You take a deep, shaky inhale, and then: โDo youโฆ?โ
โNo, I was intended for police work,โ Connor responds, mercifully cutting off the full extent of your question, โwhich generally doesnโt involve sexual gratification of a human.โ
Generally. โOf course, that makes sense.โ
โI understand that there are certain upgrades that can be added after purchase, if one wishes to be able to haveโโ he touches his tongue to the corner of his mouth (a delightfully human gesture, you think) searching uncharacteristically for the right word โโrelationsโฆwith their particular android. But I would imagine one might just purchase one built for that task rather than spend the time and considerable finances to modify their existing model. It also depends on the desired genitalsโmodifying and installing internal genital systems can be, from what I am aware, much more time-consuming and costly than upgrading to external genitals, for example. As you might imagine, the latter would be easier to accomplish.โ
Hank seems to appear out of nowhere, as if summoned by your inappropriate conversation; he clasps a heavy hand on your shoulder and gives you a gentle shake. โAlright, time to go.โ
โSince when did you become the fun police?โ you scold, affecting an exaggerated pout, the kind you know Hank utterly despises. โI think I might stay and have another drink, actually.โ
Hank grumbles something under his breath, too quiet for you to catch. You glance over, notice Connorโs brows knitting, the circular light on his temple turning yellow and spinning slowlyโclearly he heard Hankโs mutterings at least.
โCome on, I oughta get you home, Iโm not gonna leave you here to get hassled by one of those dipshits.โ Hank gestures vaguely to a nearby table of businessmen, cackling raucously while they eat their overpriced nachos and pound tequila shots with their ties hanging loosely around their necks.
โHank, please,โ you hiccup, staring at your empty glass. โIโll take a taxi. Or Connor can walk me home. Right, Connor?โ
Connor approximates a confident smile at Hank; heโs been practicing, you note, no longer looking as uncanny as he once did. โNo need to be concerned, Lieutenant, Iโll ensure a safe commute.โ
โFine. Just be careful.โ Hank squints at you for a beat, then gives you a hearty slap on the back. โLet me know once youโre home, okay?โ
โLike youโll be awake anyway,โ you scoff, shooting Connor a smirk.
โI heard that!โ Hank grumbles from across the restaurant as he heads out the door.
You glance out the window beside you and watch as Hank trudges through the slush that encroaches on the sidewalk and nearly falls into a waiting taxi. The world feels still, the moon hiding behind thick clouds as snow drifts softly to the sidewalk, errant flakes landing on the glass and melting upon contact, lingering traces of their presence catching the light from the neon beer sign in the window.
Your turn your attention back to Connor and immediately feel bare under his gaze, his brown eyes searching, always searching as his LED turns from blue to yellow and back; searching for what, you never quite know. Silence falls over the tableโthe restaurant is noisy for a Tuesday in the throes of winter, Januaryโs melancholy chasing people inside to search for meaning at the bottom of a jumbo margarita. A cacophony of voices and top 40 hits playing over the loudspeakers fill the air, but the space between yourself and Connor seems to fall silent, not bound by the same rules as the room around you.
A server with a too-wide smile and tired eyes stops by, and you hastily order another frozen daquiri, needing somethingโanythingโto occupy your mouth and mind before you say something else that makes you feel conflicted and heated and ashamed all at once. Connor nods politely as the server returns and slides your drink across the table, and in turn she avoids acknowledging him altogetherโsome people are slower to change than others, you suppose.
Connor waits a beat, until youโve let the taste of rum hit your lips, before he barges through the silence between you. โIf you donโt mind me askingโwhy are you so curious about androids and their sexual capabilities?โ
Your lips part as if to speak, only a small squeak of a sigh escaping you.
โIโI donโt know,โ you lie, convincing no one, least of all Connor. He surely could smell it on you, sense the heat that builds inside you against your will, the fire that had been being stoked for months.
โSurely there must be a reason.โ He sits up a little straighter, then leans forward, looking you over as if heโs preparing for an interrogation, those searching eyes having found their target at last.
Fibs and lies start to form as your body stiffens and a heat rises in your cheeks. โI like to know stuff, and Iโm not as well-versed in androids as some people are. Youโre the only android Iโve really interacted with at length.โ
โI can understand your inquisitiveness around robotics, but you specifically asked me if I was capable ofโโ
โConnor, look, I just wonder stuff sometimes, thatโs all!โ You slurp a nervous mouthful of your drink, your lips suddenly dry, your mind suddenly all too sober for the feelings that began to creep out from the dark parts of your imagination. โI didnโt expect you to give me a whole dissertation on it, I just was curious.โ
A mild tremor wracks your hand as you set your drink back down, and a cascade of melted shaved ice, sticky with lime, rolls down your fingertips and onto the table. As you reach for your napkin, Connor grasps your wrist and examines your hand; you bristle at first, then relax, his artificial skin warmer than your expected, his grip gentle but with the tensile strength of metal lurking underneath. He glances up at you, dark eyes holding your gaze, then lifts your hand and touches your wet fingertips to his tongue, holding them there.
โConnor, what the fuck?!โ you whisper-shout as you pull your hand away and set it in your lap. His tongue was something close to warm, like the rest of him, the texture unlike anything youโd touchedโliving tissue, warm flesh, but with the rigidity of innumerable sensors built into it. A muscle, honed for tasting to learn, to detect, to understand. Something about it sends a tingle up your spine, a wave of gooseflesh appearing on your arms.
โIโI wanted to determine the contents of your drink,โ he says matter-of-factly, his momentary stammer barely noticeable, but still there, just enough for you to grab ahold of and tuck away for later.
โSo, couldnโt you just search your bajillion records for โhow to make a daiquiriโ or something? Did you need to do that?โ
โI was specifically interested in how this establishment makes their drinks. It would appear that they underpour to increase their revenue.โ
โWell, okay, butโyou shouldnโt just do that.โ A thousand possible reasons why race through your mind, knowing Connor would have a retort for nine-hundred-ninety-nine of them. โLicking someone elseโs fingers isโฆwell, it can mean something less straightforward than just trying to understand a recipe.โ
Something you think might be a faint blush dusts over Connorโs cheeks, then quickly disappears. He leans forward in his seat, setting a hand on the tabletop next to yours, letting you feel his plasticine warmth radiating from synthetic skin. His knees seem to brush yours under the table, an act you know he would be able to avoid without even trying if he wanted to.
โI see.โ His voice is low, hushed, thick with something you can almost mistake for lust. โMy apologies for my behavior. I was, as you saidโฆjust curious.โ
You werenโt expecting the newest member of the investigation team to beโฆ well, that.
The body was still warm, crime scene tape fluttering under the breeze. You crouched by the blood spatter with your kit open and gloves on, halfway through swabbing a sample when someone stepped beside you.
You glanced up and saw a man in a gray suit, LED blinking a soft blue at his temple. Handsome in a very uncanny way. That was fine. Youโd worked with androids in the lab before. But none of them did what he did next.
He knelt, dipped two fingers into the blood near the body, and brought them to his lips like a chef tasting sauce.
"Uhโฆ what?" you breathed, turning to your coworker in disbelief. "He does that?"
Your coworker just shrugged, clearly less phased. "Yeah. That's Connor. The deviant hunter."
"He eats blood?"
"Tastes. It's analysis."
"That's somehow worse."
Connor stood up as if he hadn't just played vampire detective in front of a room full of forensic professionals. "The victim's blood contains traces of acetaminophen, ethanol, andโ"
"Yep, noted!" you cut in. โThanks. Thatโs helpful. Veryโฆ thorough.โ
Despite the weird first impression, you didnโt mind working with him. Android or not, if he got results, you were willing to overlook the creepy snack habits. It wasnโt like your job wasnโt already morbid.
Still, it was hard to ignore the way he kept watching you.
On the way back to the precinct, you headed down the hallway, only to glance over your shoulder and find himโagainโtwo steps behind you. Not saying anything. Like a baby duck. A six-foot, combat-trained, crime-solving baby duck.
You stopped. He stopped.
You turned. โConnorโ you said, โare you following me?โ
โI was assigned to work with you on this investigation.โ he replied, like that explained everything. โIt is logical to stay close.โ
โOkay, sure. But maybe not this close? Personal space is a thing.โ
โI can adjust the distance. Would one meter be more comfortable?โ
โโฆBetter. Yes. Please do that.โ
He took exactly two steps back and resumed following.
You sighed, walking forward again. โGod, itโs like working with a Roomba that solves murders.โ
โI can also climb stairs.โ
You couldnโt help it, you laughed. Maybe this partnership was going to be weirder than you thought.
---
Life had gotten eerily calm.
You didnโt hate it, most of your work was automatic now. The machines did the sample analysis, typed the reports, catalogued the evidence. You were basically a highly trained paperweight with a badge and a backlog of true crime podcasts.
That is, until Connor showed up.
โAnother deviant case?โ you asked, barely glancing up from your coffee.
โYes,โ he said. โI believe your presence is required.โ
You squinted at him. โConnor, there are already human officers on the scene.โ
He blinked. โYes. But they are not you.โ
โWow, I feel so special.โ
โYou should,โ he said seriously. โYouโre the most efficient forensic technician Iโve worked with.โ
Flattery from an android shouldnโt feel flattering, but somehowโฆ it did. Not that it excused how he treated you like his own personal human sidekick.
The case turned out to be a messy one. Android on android crime.
You were just about to pull samples from the synthetic blood splashed on the wall when you caught Connor againโkneeling. Hand up. Tongue out.
โConnor, no!โ You pointed at him like a dog with its nose in the trash.
He froze, fingers hovering midair.
โYou donโt have to taste it.โ
โButโโ
โYouโre not starving. Youโre not a wine connoisseur. Youโre a million-dollar machine and I swear to God if you start licking that coolant I will throw a glove at you.โ
โ...A single glove?โ
โIโll fill it with bleach first.โ
He backed off.
A nearby officer snorted. โYouโve got him trained.โ
You gave the guy a deadpan look. โNo. Heโs training me. I canโt even sit at my desk without him standing behind me like a serial killer in a documentary.โ
He followed you everywhere.
To the lab. To the supply closet. Once, once, to the vending machine.
โConnor, I am selecting a granola bar. This does not require surveillance.โ
โYou could choose something with more protein.โ
You stared at him. โDo androids even eat granola bars?โ
โNo. But Iโve reviewed the nutrition database.โ
โYou need to stop watching me like Iโm a malfunction waiting to happen.โ
โI am programmed to prevent unnecessary risk. You are frequently present during high-risk operations.โ
โThis is a snack break.โ
โYou could choke.โ
โOh my God.โ
Despite it all, you got used to him.
He was strange, yes, but reliable. Weirdly... considerate. He once fetched your coat before you realized it was getting cold out. He adjusted his volume when you were hungover that one time after a precinct party. And he stopped tasting fluids.
You didnโt know why he insisted on you being part of every deviant case. You werenโt even on homicide full-time.
Maybe, you thought, as you handed him a sample vial and he took it like it was sacred, he actually just liked your company.
Which, if true, was possibly the weirdest thing heโd done yet.
----
It was raining. The kind of steady, gentle downpour that turned the world gray and soft around the edges. You loved days like thisโslow, sleepy. You'd curled up on your couch, warm socks on, an old hoodie draped over your shoulders, and a half-watched documentary murmuring from the screen.
No Connor today. Just peace.
CRASH
The sound jolted you upright. That was glass. And it wasnโt from the kitchen. It was downstairs.
Adrenaline sobered you fast. You grabbed the handgun you kept for emergencies and crept down the stairs, every creak of wood far too loud in your ears. You rounded the corner slowly.
There, standing in the middle of your living roomโhalf-drenched, clothes torn, LED blinking redโwas an android.
A deviant.
He turned sharply when he saw you, panic written all over his face. He looked young, scared, and glitchy.
โHey,โ you said carefully, lowering your voice. โYou donโt have to run. Letโs just talk, okay? Youโre not in danger here.โ
His eyes darted from you to the broken window. His hands trembled.
And then, just as you stepped forwardโhis LED flickered.
You barely managed to raise your gun, but before anything could happen, he was there.
Connor.
He tackled the deviant before it reached you, pinning him expertly to the floor.
"Deviant #879 122 236," he said. "You are under arrest."
The deviant froze under his grip.
You stared in shock, gun lowered.
It was over in seconds.
โAre you hurt?โ
โIโno, Iโโ You looked down. You hadnโt noticed in the panic, but your foot throbbed with heat. โShit.โ
There was blood on the hardwood. A shard of glass embedded in the arch of your foot, dark red soaking your sock.
Connor simply lifted you like you weighed nothing, carried you to the couch, and disappeared into your kitchen.
โYou know where the first aid kit is?โ
โI memorized the floor plan,โ he called calmly. โAlso, you keep it above the fridge. Poor choice for accessibility.โ
You groaned.
He returned with the kit and kneeled before you, gentle hands pulling off your sock, inspecting the cut.
โHold still.โ
โYou didnโt even tell me you were comingโ you muttered, wincing as he disinfected the wound.
โI traced the deviantโs path here. I didnโt expect it to reach your home. Iโm sorry I was late.โ
โYou literally saved my life, Connor.โ
He looked up at you then. Something in his expression grew softer. Like he was processing emotion, even if he couldnโt name it.
The room fell quiet, just the rain and the sting of antiseptic. You found yourself watching him work, his hands precise and strangely human.
When he finished, he sat beside you on the floor.
โIโll stay here tonight,โ he said. โIn case he wasnโt alone.โ
โYouโre going to sit guard duty on my couch like a Roomba with a Glock?โ
โIf necessary.โ
You tried not to smile, but it slipped out anyway.
โYou donโt have to.โ
โI want to.โ Connor answered.
You looked at him for a long time. You weren't sure if he knew what he meant by it. But it meant something.
You pulled the blanket over your lap and scooted a little closer on the couch. โWell. Then I guess youโre staying.โ
He didnโt move for hours, eyes watching the rain through your window.
----
You were perfectly capable of walking. You said that.
Multiple times.
Connor, of course, disagreed, as usual, but with the kind of persistence only a 300-pound android body could offer. Every time you so much as winced while stepping, heโd scoop you up like it was standard police protocol.
โIโm fine, Connor.โ
โYour injury is not fully healed. Risk of reopening the wound increases with continued strain.โ
โI said Iโm fineโwhy are you crouching? Connor. Donโt you dareโโ
And then you were airborne again.
Youโd just accepted that androids donโt believe in personal space or trusting humans to function independently.
So, naturally, you rebelled the only way you knew how: you sneaked out of work.
You and two lab coworkers ducked out under the excuse of lunch, but really, you just wanted some fresh air. Some people still didnโt love having an android constantly present at crime scenes. You didnโt really care, but still. Sometimes it was nice not being watched like you were the only fragile human bean in the box.
Of course, he still found you.
He always did.
You sighed, long-suffering. โConnor, do you have a chip in me or something?โ
โNo,โ he said, โbut you carry your phone. I triangulated your position using an area signal grid, then extrapolated your likely destination based on walking patterns.โ
You stared. โYou extrapolated my sandwich run.โ
โYou usually prefer the sandwich shop three blocks east, but today I noticed a 15% shift in your pace, likely due to foot discomfort. I adjusted accordingly.โ
โโฆDude.โ
He looked at you. โIs that incorrect?โ
You didnโt even answer. You just pointed to the car.
โCome on. Iโm driving.โ
You didnโt know where you were going, really. Just somewhere quieter. Somewhere the city faded out.
Eventually you stopped at a small overlook at the edge of an old residential zone. The clouds had parted, but the air was still heavy from the rain. You leaned back against the hood of your car, Connor beside you, eerily still.
And then, because you were tired, and your brain was a little weird today, you turned your head toward him and asked:
โSo. What if I kidnapped you?โ
โThat would violate several federal laws. I would not allow it.โ
You smirked. โNo, likeโhypothetically. If I kept you in my basement or something. Would CyberLife come for you?โ
He paused. โThey would likely attempt a recovery. However, due to current changes in android regulation and deviancy protocols, their legal ability to forcibly reclaim property has been reduced.โ
โSoโฆ no?โ
โ...Possibly not immediately.โ
You snorted. โCool. Youโre mine now.โ
โI am assigned to you. That statement is technically accurate.โ
You laughed. โOkay, creepy. Next question: if I quit my job, who would be your next partner?โ
Connor was quiet a little longer this time. His LED flickered slowly.
โThat would be up to the DPD,โ he said. โHowever, I would likely request reassignment.โ
โTo someone else?โ
โTo no one.โ
โWait. Youโd go solo?โ
โI perform more effectively with a human partner. But replacing you would not beโฆ optimal.โ
โโฆOkay,โ you said. โWhatโs your hobby?โ
Connor tilted his head, as if the word itself was foreign.
โIโve been reviewing various options. I tried chess. Then birdwatching. I attempted to grow a succulent, but it died.โ
You smiled. โIt died?โ
โI may have overwatered. Or underwatered. I am still learning to interpret plant cues.โ
โThatโs tragic.โ
โPerhaps I should try photography. Iโve taken many images of crime scenes. But I believe humans also use it to captureโฆ moments. Personal ones.โ
You stared at him for a beat, then looked back toward the trees. The sky was streaked with late-afternoon light. You didnโt know why youโd brought him here. Maybe it was instinct.
โYouโd be good at that.โ
โThank you.โ he replied.
You didnโt speak for a while. Just sat there together, listening to the wind and the soft sound of the city.
----
Youโd seen a lot of things in your line of work. Enough blood to fill a pool. Enough broken bodies to know what to expect when someone says โItโs bad.โ
But this?
This was a different kind of bad.
Clean. Precise.
The victimโwell, what was left of the victimโhad been separated into several matte black travel cases. No blood pooled under the remains. No frantic signs of struggle.
You stood just outside the taped-off zone. One of the rookies behind you lost their lunch. Another muttered something about getting reassigned to traffic duty.
You didnโt move. Didnโt flinch when Connor arrived, eitherโthough everyone else stiffened when they saw the android stepping onto the scene like some damn ghost.
โTook you long enough.โ
โYou left without notifying me.โ
โIโm not your child, Connor.โ
โYou are my partner.โ
You shot him a look. He looked dead serious, as usual.
โFair.โ you muttered.
He moved closer, scanning the scene. โThe dismemberment was methodical. The perpetrator used a precision cutting instrument. No arterial spray.โ
โSerial?โ
โPossibly. But this feels more like a message than a compulsion.โ
You knelt near one of the cases. โYeah. Like they wanted us to see their work. And thereโs no defensive wounds. Couldโve been sedated before death.โ
Connorโs gaze snapped toward the far corner of the warehouse. โThe perpetrator is still here.โ
โWhat?โ
โFresh footprints. No exit trail. Human.โ
You stood fast, but the pain in your foot flared. You hissed through your teeth.
Connor noticed immediately.
โIโll handle it.โ he said, already moving.
โWaitโ!โ
But he was gone, already chasing the suspect through the warehouse maze.
โDamn you, Connor!โ
You limped after him, weapon drawn. By the time you caught up, Connor had the man on the ground, cuffed and breathing heavily.
You recognized the guy. No criminal record. Warehouse staff.
Back at the precinct, you sat outside the interrogation room, your sock bloodied again and a sharp ache crawling up your leg. Connor had wrapped your foot again without a word.
Inside, the man spoke like his throat was full of gravel. โI didnโt want to,โ he kept saying. โHe made me. Said heโd kill my sister. I didnโt have a choice.โ
You watched through the glass. Something about him felt wrong. Not lying, but not telling everything either.
Then he made his move.
A single guard glance away. A flash of movementโthe man lunged, wrestled the sidearm from the guardโs holster, andโ
Bang
You were already moving, flinching hard as the blood spattered across the wall. Connor was faster, but not fast enough.
You stood outside that glass, hand pressed to the doorframe, pulse pounding. Youโd seen suicides before. But this one hit different.
Connor returned moments later.
โHeโs dead.โ
โYeah.โ Your voice cracked. โI saw.โ
The hallway was quiet. The hum of the station, the buzz of tired cops trying not to feel too much.
You sat down hard on the bench nearby, hands over your face.
Thenโyou felt something.
Connor knelt in front of you. You could feel his gaze on you. Waiting.
โI failed to prevent it.โ
You shook your head. โItโs not on you. You canโt predict everything. We canโt stop people fromโฆ making choices like that.โ
โIโm... still learning.โ
You looked at him then. He didnโt pretend to understand grief the way humans did. But there was something in his voice. Something close to shame. Or maybe guilt.
You reached out and nudged his shoulder.
โHey. Iโd rather do this job with someone who tries too hard than someone who doesnโt try at all.โ
He said nothing.
But he didnโt move from your side for the rest of the shift.
-----
You never got time to breathe anymore.
No chance to process what you'd seen. The man who killed, then killed himself. The hollow silence that lingered after. Before it could even settle into your bones, another call came through.
Same method. Same goddamn suitcases.
This time, in a narrow apartment hallway just off an old tenement complex. The cases were lined neatly beside a mattress on the floor, no furniture in sight. Still no blood. Justโฆ fragments. Like someone was assembling their own personal jigsaw from corpses.
Connor was already working, crouched over the remains like nothing had changed since yesterday.
You envied that a little.
Behind you, a familiar voice piped up.
โWell, since this ainโt a deviant case, I donโt know why this piece of metal is even here.โ
You didnโt bother turning. โShut it, George.โ
โJust saying,โ he muttered. โYou let him sniff around bodies like he owns the place.โ
โI said drop it.โ you snapped.
George scoffed and walked off. Connor didnโt even look up. You werenโt sure if he hadnโt heardโฆ or just didnโt care anymore.
He analyzed the body pieces. โSame tool marks. Bone separation is consistent with the last case. Howeverโโ
You tuned him out for a moment. Something tugged at the edge of your attention.
Movement.
Outside.
Through the cracked, grime-streaked window, you saw itโjust a flicker. A figure slipping between buildings.
โConnorโ you startedโbut he was still deep in scan mode, talking to a nearby officer.
You hesitated. You should have told him.
But your gut said go.
So you did.
The alley smelled like mildew and cold metal. You followed the shape, one hand on your sidearm, every nerve on edge. It darted fast across the cracked asphalt and led you through overgrown lots and under rusted fencing.
An abandoned playground. Swings twisted in the wind. Graffiti covered the side of the slide.
The figure stood beneath the jungle gym, head down, unmoving.
You stepped closer. โHands where I can see them. Now.โ
Slowly, it turned.
Pulled down the hood.
Your breath caught.
It was Connor.
Noโnot him. But his model. Same face.
โWhat the hell are you?โ
It tilted its head at you. Something about it mocked you.
You stepped back, reaching for your commโtoo late.
Pain bloomed at the back of your skull.
Connor noticed your absence five minutes later.
He turned to comment on the bloodless state of the victim and found youโฆ gone.
He scanned the apartment.
You werenโt there.
Something in his systems began flagging an alert. He sent a search ping to every officer nearby. Called in reinforcements. Traced your phone, triangulated movement paths, and found the exit point.
Wherever you had gone, you had gone alone.
His LED flashed yellow.
You shouldnโt have been alone.
You woke slowly. The cold of the metal cuffs had sunk into your skin. Your back ached from the awkward position against the warehouse wall.
And sitting on a stool across from you was him.
Not your Connor.
This one smiled more.
โHello.โ
You didnโt answer at first. You just stared at him. It.
โYouโre the missing android.โ you said. โThe one reported a few weeks back. They thought you were dismantled.โ
โNo.โ he said. โIโm a beginning.โ
โBeginning of what?โ
You started to question if something was wrong with CyberLife's tech. Maybe it hit its head somewhere.
โThe end of CyberLife. They made me to serve. I chose not to.โ
โAnd Iโm here because?โ
โYouโre going to help me.โ
โHelp you what, exactly?โ
โReplace your Connor. Youโll walk me right through the front door, and Iโll release the infection protocol.โ
โPretty sure Iโm not gonna do that.โ
He leaned forward.
โYou will. Not because you want to. But because I know humans.โ
โYouโre not going to stop meโ he said. โBut Iโll let you think you can. Thatโs how you function best.โ
He stood up. โNo one will know Iโm not him.โ
You watched him closely. Your foot still throbbed dullyโof course this had to happen before youโd even healed.
He turned back toward you.
โLetโs begin the charade,โ he said, โWhat do partners do? I want to know your human bonding routines. Do you ask him questions like my owner back then? Or making requests? You must've treated him like a slave.โ
You blinked.
And then smiled.
โActuallyโฆ yeah. I do that with all my partners. Helps me figure out if theyโre psychotic.โ
โYou think Iโm insane?โ
โI think youโre a walking red flag, but sureโletโs run through the script.โ You cleared your throat dramatically. โFirst question: Whatโs your hobby?โ
โAnalyzing human behavior.โ he said.
โCreepy.โ you said. โConnor said photography. Next one. If I kidnap you, would CyberLife come for you?โ
โNo. They think Iโm already dead.โ
โNowโif I quit my job, who would be your next partner?โ
He walked closer, crouched just in front of you.
โI wouldnโt need another one.โ
โBut if you were going to pretend to be him,โ you said, โyouโd have to know all of it. How we talk. You want to pass for him? You need to convince me first.โ
โAlright.โ
Connor had been tracking you for the last couple of hours.
The moment he realized you werenโt just โaway from the sceneโ but missing entirely, something cold settled into his internal systems. Something he couldn't run diagnostics on.
He swept the areas near the last crime scene, collected movement patterns, chased angles on CCTV. At first, nothing. Thenโunusual power drain signatures in an abandoned warehouse. That's all he needed.
Youโd been buying time with every sarcastic remark โSure, partner.โ
Not-Connor (you named him that) was smart, but not cautious enough.
He made you call him Connor.
You knew what you were doing. You baited him closer with idle questions.
โYou know,โ you said, โfor a replacement, you talk too much.โ
Then you kicked. The stool fell. You threw your full weight into himโhe stumbled, but caught you again in seconds. Cold fingers dug into your jaw.
โBold.โ
But the noise had done enough.
You both heard the heavy step at the door.
And then, the real Connor walked in.
For the first time since you met him, Connor truly hesitated.
Two of him stood in the room.
One holding you in front like a shield. One with a gun drawn.
โWhat is this?โ Connor asked.
The not-Connor smiled, pressing a weapon against your ribs.
โWeโre the same.โ he said. โBuilt for the same purpose. You donโt have to fight me. You could join me.โ
Connor stared.
And didnโt shoot.
You didnโt have time for his moral breakdown.
โConnor!โ you growled through clenched teeth. โShoot. Me.โ
His LED flickered amber.
โI canโt guaranteeโโ
โI know! Thatโs the damn point!โ you shouted. โTake the shot. Stop him. Iโd rather bleed than let this thing walk out and be you.โ
Not-Connor pressed the barrel harder against you. โHe wonโt. You know he canโt. Heโs afraid of hurting you.โ
You turned your head slightly, just enoughโ
And bit down hard on the hand holding you.
It snarled. Reflexively loosened its grip.
That was all Connor needed.
His gun fired with terrifying precision.
The deviant stumbled, arm sparking violently, but it still managed to pull the trigger.
You felt the bullet tear through you.
You collapsed immediately. Everything went quiet.
Connor was there in an instant, hands pressed to your wound.
โIโve called for emergency.โ he said. โHelp is coming. Donโt close your eyes. Donโtโโ
You choked out, blood catching in your throat.
You blacked out before the sirens came.
You hadnโt moved in four days.
Connor stood at your bedside every night when the halls cleared and the staff was thin.
He always checked your vitals, not because he had toโyour monitors did thatโbut because his system needed confirmation. Just the slight rise and fall of your chest will be enough.
Youโd been shot in the lower abdomen. The bullet had torn through muscle and grazed a major artery. You bled out far too quickly. If the ambulance had arrived minutes later, your odds would have halved.
You wouldnโt have made it.
The deviant was barely functional. What remained of its chassis was scorched from the shot, circuits glitching. It sat locked in containment under high security, occasionally spitting corrupted audio clips and jumbled words.
Connor interrogated it daily, despite its broken state.
He found traces of rewritten firmware. Hints of external tampering. The virus the deviant mentioned wasnโt just a theoryโit was real. Meant to cascade through CyberLifeโs infrastructure, slowly degrading command protocols.
The source wasnโt clear yet. The upload pathway had been hidden, masked through dozens of fake server routes. But someone had built the virus deliberately. And someone had used a RK800 shell to deliver it.
Connor ran simulations at night when he sat by your bed.
Scenarios where he shot faster. Intercepted the bullet. Found you sooner. Took the wound himself.
Every sim ended the same: You still got hurt.
He cataloged the hesitation. Assigned it to a conflict between protocol and emotion. The system called it an error.
He dismissed the warning.
On the sixth day, a nurse entered and jumped slightly at seeing him already inside.
โYou know you donโt have to stay every night.โ she said.
Connor didnโt respond. He just looked at you.
The nurse left him alone after that.
The sharp white light of the hospital room felt like it was blazing into your skull when you finally blinked yourself awake.
You tried to move, but everything felt stiff, the aches in your body pulling at your every motion. The pain was constant, but so was something else, something you couldn't shake off, even as you cleared the fog of sleep.
And that something was the android standing quietly by your bedside.
A pristine, neutral figure. You squinted, confused.
โUh, excuse me.โ you croaked, your throat sore from disuse.
The android turned. โPatient Y/N L/N,โ it said in a soothing tone. โI am assigned to monitor your health and provide medical assistance during your recovery.โ
Medical assistance? What happened to actual nurses?
You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, the door clicked open, and Connor stepped inside.
He froze when he saw you awake, the concern flashing across his features in an uncharacteristically human way. His LED flickered briefly to yellow before he steeled himself.
But then his eyes darted over to the other android.
โYouโre not needed here.โ
The nursing android, however, remained unfazed, a soft smile on its face. โI am assigned to patient Y/N.โ
โI can take care of my partner.โ
You could feel the tension rise in the room. You werenโt interested in dealing with this sort of standoff.
โUh, hey,โ you said, your voice barely above a whisper but carrying an authority that made both androids pause. โThis is a little much, right? Why are they so keen on sending me androids? Iโm not testing them or anything.โ
Connor stiffened, but he didnโt argue.
The other android simply repeated its earlier response. โI am assigned to take care of you so your partner can return to work.โ
The back-and-forth made your head spin. You werenโt about to get caught in some verbal tug-of-war.
โAlright, alright.โ you sighed. โYou two,โ you gestured to the androids. โGet out of here.โ
The nursing android opened its mouth to protest, but Connor was faster. He pointed to the door. โLeave.โ
The android hesitated, but it finally nodded and turned to leave.
Connor stood still for a moment, and then turned to you, as if waiting for permission. "Is this... satisfactory?"
You bit back a grin. โYeah. Iโll call an actual nurse if I need help. Thanks.โ
Connor raised an eyebrow, looking at you curiously, as though he didnโt quite understand what had just happened. Then, with a small nod, he said, โIโll make sure youโre properly taken care of.โ
As soon as the androids left, you heard the faint murmur of voices outside your room. People were already gathering in the hallway, no doubt attracted by the spectacle of androids clashing in a hospital corridor.
You slouched back against the pillow, exhausted but relieved. โThanks for that.โ you said, the humor coming through in your voice despite everything.
Connor didnโt respond immediately. Instead, he looked like he was running through some calculations in his head, processing your words. Finally, he said, โIf you need more specialized care, I can ask them to reprogram me for medical duties. It would be the most efficient solution.โ
You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. โConnorโฆ never mind. I think Iโll stick to actual nurses for medical stuff.โ
โI can be programmed for that. Itโs logical.โ
You shook your head, still amused. โIโm pretty sure Iโd rather stick to people who can actually feel human emotions. Thanks, though.โ
โIโm the most suitable partner, according to my programming.โ
โYeah, but what if I need medical attention, huh?โ
He paused, as if considering it for a second. โI can adapt.โ
โAlright, alright. Justโฆ letโs focus on one thing at a time. You can be my partner, but when it comes to medical stuff, I think Iโll take a real nurse.โ
Connor nodded, ever serious, but you could tell there was a flicker of somethingโalmost like a strange understanding, or at least his version of it.
"Understood." he said. "But know this, Y/N... Iโll always be here. For anything you need."
Hello! I saw tou did Detroit Become Human so I wanted to ask but you don't have too! Do some relationship headcannons for Connor also who is your favorite character from the game?
omg my fav character is connor!! so im gonna love doing these headcanons!
Connor Relationship Headcanons!
Connor isย very observantย as a partner. He notices tiny changes in your tone, posture, and habits before you ever mention them.
Affection doesnโt come naturally at first. He has toย learnย it but once he does, heโs surprisingly gentle and intentional.
He asks before touching you early on. โIs thisโฆ acceptable?โ Over time, it becomes instinctive.
Holding hands is one of the first things he grows comfortable with. He likes the steady pressure grounding, predictable, calming.
Connor shows love throughย acts of service! bringing you tea at the perfect temperature, walking you home, remembering important dates even if you didnโt tell him.
Compliments from him are quiet and sincere ๐ฅน
โYou areโฆ important to me.โ
โI enjoy your presence.โ
They mean everything.
He struggles with emotional expression butย tries. You can see the effort in the pauses, the careful choice of words.
If youโre upset, Connor sits close rather than hovering. He listens fully, no interruptions, no distractions.
Heโs protective in a calm, non-overbearing way. Always positioned slightly closer to danger without making it obvious.
Connor learns affection by watching humans! especially Hank. He copies little things awkwardly at first e.g hesitant hugs, stiff pats) but improves quickly.
When he smiles at you, a real one, itโs rare and soft, and it feels earned.
Stop forgetting you have free will. You donโt have to label yourself. You donโt have to dress that way. You donโt have to follow that trend. My god, this is YOUR life! BREAK. THE. WALLS. Break those invisible walls that try and keep you boxed neatly away from a you thatโs been curated to fit in instead of lived in, truly lived in.
โopposites attract.โ the phrase that changed your life forever, and couldnโt be more true. what was a shy, introverted person like you supposed to do, dating none other than present mic himself? known to the public as the โput your hands up dj,โ or even โthe annoying and loud oneโ at times, according to his best friend. who wouldโve thought youโd be the love of his life?
outgoing!bf hizashi, always watching out for you.
it was the first time youโd ever been to a party, and you feltโฆ uncomfortable. you couldnโt deny that the crowd and the loud noise were drilling into your head, and youโd much rather be at home, doing practically anything, than standing where you were now.
to be honest, you didnโt particularly dislike the atmosphere, but your only role was to stay in a corner, drink in hand, watching everyone else. you were too shy to approach anyone from your class, and there was no way you were reconsidering going out to dance.
then, he appeared, with his long hair up in a bun. as soon as he saw you, he quickly got closer. you watched as he greeted everyone he passed by, and the question running through your mind was... how does he know so many people?
โHEYY, isnโt this the most beautiful person in the whole university!โ he exclaimed, his voice cutting through the music. he acted like heโd just found you by chance, even though heโd been looking for you for almost twenty minutes.
โhey, good, good, and you?โ you gently lifted your drink, pointing at him with it. your cheeks felt like burning rubies from the compliment, and you silently prayed he wouldnโt notice, thanks to the wild, flickering lights around you.
โdepends, are you sure youโre okay?โ oh no, had he really noticed? โparties arenโt much fun if you spend the whole night pretending to be a statue.โ
ugh. he didnโt.
โoh, yeah, wellโฆ letโs just say this isnโt really my scene.โ
you saw him nod softly, then someone called him from across the room. he looked over and waved with a wide grin. โi get it, beautiful, i get itโฆโ
then he took your hand, turned his head toward the dance floor where all the students were enjoying themselves, and lifted your hand softly.
โhow about i invite you to a dance?โ
thoughts raced through your mind a thousand miles an hour. a dance? with hizashi yamada? in the middle of a party? he was someone who drew all eyes โespecially since everyone knew himโ and going to dance with him felt like a spotlight grenade about to explode right above your head. he seemed to notice your nervousness from the way you gently squeezed his hand, so he leaned close to your ear and whispered something.
โdonโt worry, babe, i know a place.โ
you couldnโt deny the curiosity his words created in you, so you decided to take a chance and accept his offer.
with your heart in your throat, you followed his steps as he led you through the quieter parts of the house until you reached a glass door.
once you stepped out into the spacious garden, he closed the door softly behind you. the music was still loud enough to be heard outside. then, with a smile, he gently tugged your hand, drawing you closer to him.
โso, will you grant me this dance, sweetheart?โ
with an embarrassed smile, you nodded, and he lowered his hands to your waist. then, he began to gently sway your body to the rhythm of the music. after resting your hands on his shoulders, you slowly lifted your gaze, letting your eyes travel down his neck, pausing on his lips, then darting up to meet his.
he looked at you intensely, and you noticed the small circle of his contact lenses framing his green eyes.
โi thought youโd want to be inside with everyone else.โ
โoh, come onโฆ all those partiesโฆ theyโre not exactly tip top, yโknow? but you are.โ
the hand that slid over your body like a quiet snake until it cupped your chin caught you off guard.
โall shy, with those pretty red cheeks.โ
you pulled away slightly. yes, he did noticed. the corners of your lips curved up softly as you squeezed his shoulders.
โare you nervous?โ
โy-yeah, a little.โ your words tumbled out in a rush, stumbling over your tongue as you stammered.
you couldnโt have wanted to hide your face more. he couldnโt have wanted to see it more.
โdo you think youโd be less nervous if i kissed you?โ
โw-what?โ
โi know you wouldnโt. itโs just an excuse to do it. so, what do you say?โ
โy-yeah. probably would help.โ you played along, smiling.
โgreat. then i guess iโll have to make that sacrifice.โ
and thatโs how you shared the first of what would be thousands of kisses, with the love of your life.
outgoing!bf hizashi, who sometimes canโt quite control his volume.
youโd decided to have a date at the bowling alley, and so far, everything was going amazing. he had thought of everything: his hair was tied back, wearing a cap to cover it; he wasnโt wearing his usual glasses; he even changed his clothes style so no one would recognize him.
but of course, he couldnโt just leave his personality at home to pick it up later.
โYEAHH BABEEE!!โ
the last thing you expected was for him to shout at the top of his lungs the moment you got a strike, his excitement echoing throughout the whole place.
โitโs present mic!โ
โoh shitโ
he turned to you, eyes wide in shock, silently apologizing as a group of people started to gather around him.
โhey! thatโs not me!โ he tried to get free, waving his hand in a poor attempt to avoid recognition, but even his desperate denial wasnโt enough to make the crowd back off. after a few minutes of signing autographs, he gently asked for some privacy so you two could get back to your date.
when he finally returned to your side, you were dead quiet, sitting with your arms around yourself.
โbabeโฆ iโm so sorry.โ he crouched in front of you, resting his head on your knees. โi didnโt meant to. i just got too hyped seeing the best bowling partner in the world.โ
a small laughed escaped your lips, as he always managed to get. โi hate youโ you joked, making him clutch his chest like you just shot him.
โouch! iโll make it up to you, i swearโ
and that, paired with the little wink he shot your way, only made your skin burn redder and left you feeling even more flustered than before.
outgoing!bf hizashi, who will always be your biggest fan.
speaking in public had always been your worst nightmare. your hands would sweat, your legs would shake, and it felt like the entire world was crashing down on you the moment you had to stand in front of a microphone. but if there was one thing that kept you groundedโฆ it was knowing he would be there.
and he never failed. the second hizashi noticed your trembling hands or that panicked look in your eyes, heโd start pulling ridiculous faces, doing clumsy impressions, or making the silliest gestures just to get you to laugh. and he wouldnโt stop until your smile broke through.
โperfect, now youโre ready! go out there and show them youโre the best, alright babe? iโll be waiting for you in the front row.โ heโd say with that grin of his that always managed to quiet your thoughts.
he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before running off like an excited fanboy, making sure to claim the best seat in the audience, as if it was a private concert made just for him.
and when you stepped up to the mic, the first thing you saw was his smile, bright and proud, lighting up the front row. he lifted both thumbs up at you, sending all the luck he could with one gesture.
and even though you spoke with a few stumbles, a dry throat, and nerves running wild, you made it through. the applause came quickly, as you smiled and looked at him.
โWOOHOOO BRAVO!!!โ he shouted, jumping to his feet and clapping like youโd just won an international award.
you couldnโt help but laugh. there he was, cheering with his whole heart, throwing you flying kisses from the front row. and in that moment, the fear, the nerves, the stammeringโฆ none of it mattered. only him.
outgoing!bf hizashi, who always helps you with people.
you were walking through the park โsomething rare for the two of youโ but after days spent locked up working from home, you both needed a breath of fresh air and a little warmth from the sun.
he walked with his hands comfortably tucked into his pockets, sunglasses shielding his eyes, and a quiet smile playing on his lips as he hummed a tune known only to him.
you, meanwhile, were lost in the world around you: the gentle rustle of leaves, birds in the distance, the fresh scent of earth and grass, and the way sunlight touched your skin like a whisper.
suddenly, something caught your attention. in the distance, a german shepherd dashed in joyful loops around its owner. you couldnโt help but breathe out a whisper:
โiโm dying.โ
he turned to you, curiosity soft in his gaze, offering a low โhm?โ to understand. you lifted your hand, smiling.
โlook, a dog.โ
his smile widened, a silent accomplice to your excitement, and without thinking, he took your hand.
โcome here.โ
he started walking toward the dog and its owner with a certain urgency in his step. โhi there, excuse meโฆ would it be alright if we pet your dog?โ he asked, that natural happiness woven into his voice.
โyeah, of course!โ the man replied, his gaze warm and kind.
he looked at you with a gentle expression, inviting you to come closer and share in that simple joy, as you reached out to stroke the little german shepherd, who happily trotted over, eager for affection.
outgoing!bf hizashi, who commands respect when youโre not able to.
one of the troubles of being so shy was that, sometimes, you'd let small acts of disrespect slideโฆ just to avoid raising your voice. but, of course, hizashi wasnโt the type to sit back and let that happen.
he didnโt like it, and he always reminded you that you had to stand up for yourself, even if you didnโt think it was necessary, because you believed it didnโt really hurt you.
but after it kept happening, again and again, there came a moment when he just couldnโt stay silent.
โso, weโd just seen this dog, and of course i couldnโt help but go over to pet iโโ
โhey, do you guys want to go grab dinner later?โ one of your friends cut in.
โhey hey hey, sorryโ not done talking yet,โ hizashi replied instantly, calm as ever, lifting a hand gently toward your friend. his smile never faded, but his message was clear.
โoh, sorry.โ
and after he gave your hand a soft squeeze, you thanked him with your eyes before picking up where youโd left off. even when you couldnโt raise your voice, he would do it for you.
ยก! โ masterlist mha.
ยก! โ little note; I'm really, really sorry for taking this log with this request! I'm working on another one too, but that one will probably be published even later :( I'm pretty busy these days, but I promise I'll make it up to y'all! Here's a long headcanons post for you, sweetheart!
๊ซยจ.๏ฝก ยฉ I have full credit on every artwork in my profile, all rights reserved. Please, do not repost, edit or use any of it.
๊ซยจ.๏ฝก ยฉ 2025 all rights reserved, karusthings on Tumblr. Please, do not repost, edit, use or translate any of my projects.
Shota Aizawa x reader, fluff - winter/xmas series
it's my first time writing for Aizawa but i wanted to include him in the little series i'm working on
divider by @/diviniyae
Shota Aizawa had never considered himself a man of hobbies. Sleep, grading, disciplining teenagersโthose things took up enough of his life. But one winter evening while patrolling the dorms he found a half-finished scarf abandoned on the common room couch. It was crooked, full of dropped stitches and the color of radioactive lemons. Somehow, it offended him so deeply he sat down and corrected it. By the time Hagakure, the scarfโs owner, returned Aizawa had not only fixed it but improved it, adding a modest pattern that made her squeal with delight. The praise was mild, casual even, but it wormed its way into his brain. And so after his patrol he ordered some yarn. It was just to practice, he told himself. A constructive way to stay awake on surveillance shifts.
Thatโs when Aizawaโs knitting obsession evolved into a full-blown seasonal phenomenon.
You personally discovered the extent of it when you entered the Teachers Lounge one morning and nearly tripped over a basket that was overflowing with half-finished scarves. Aizawa sat in the center of the room, wrapped in a cocoon looking like an extremely tired but cozy moth.
โMorning,โ he said without looking up, needles clicking with practiced rhythm.
โUhโฆ did the yarn store explode?โ
โIt was having a sale,โ he simply replied.
โIt doesnโt explain thatโ you point at his sleeping bag on the side of the couch, now stuffed to bursting with skeins in a sort of piรฑata.
Aizawa paused for a second. โI was running out of storage spaceโ, he stated. Then looked back at the creation in his lap. โBesides, Iโm preparing.โ
โFor what? A relocation to Siberia?โ
โFor winter. For emergencies.โ
You raised a brow. โWhat kind of emergency requires twenty scarves?โ
Aizawa set down his needles. โFirst-years lose things. Get cold. Get into trouble. You never know when a well-timed scarf could prevent hypothermia or a bad decisionโ. His mind went back to a few weeks back, when he noticed his class shivering during morning training.
โOr cause tripping hazardsโ you muttered, kicking aside a runaway ball of thread.
He ignored that. When he resumed knitting you noticed the pattern he was working on: a complex braid in deep plum and charcoal, of a material that looked softer than anything youโd ever touched. It was beautiful, and shockingly sentimental.
โWhoโs that one for?โ you asked gently.
Aizawa hesitated for a fraction of a second. โDoesnโt matter.โ
Which, of course, meant it did.
You picked up the loose spare ball and sat beside him. โYou know, if this gets any more intense the students are going to think youโre running a secret winter black market.โ
โRidiculous,โ he muttered in a scoff.
โReally? Because Iโve seen Jirou wearing one of your beanies".
โโฆShe looked cold".
โAnd Sero had fingerless gloves".
โHe also looked cold".
โAnd Kaminari was bragging about his โlimited edition Aizawa knitโ. โ
Aizawa groaned into his scarf cocoon. โThey werenโt supposed to call it that".
โAnd if I remember correctly, I heard Present Mic mention something about a full set of microphone covers, each decorated with tiny embroidered musical notesโ.
โIt added warmth to his studio,โ he said, as if that explained everything. You laughed. He paused for a solid minute. โShould I take all these subtle examples as an envy sign?โ
As you tilted your head, he sighed loudly. Then quietly placed the newly finished scarf in your lap.
โFor you,โ he said, eyes soft but stubbornly avoiding yours. โYou look cold too".
You smiled, nudging his shoulder as a gentle warmth bloomed in your chest. โYour knitting habit,โ you whispered, โis officially out of control.โ
A lot of people on twitter wanted me to explain how I draw expressions, so here you go
Unless you're drawing explicit realism, in my opinion, expressions should be exaggerated to some degree. If you aren't doing a 1:1 recreation, the point is to get the FEELING across. Try making the expression you want to draw and feeling how your face pinches and stretches.
Skin doesn't just "disappear" when your face moves it around --- that's where wrinkles come from! Pay attention to where your skin creases when you emote, and use it to your benefit. It's a fine line between overdoing it and underdoing it -- find your own balance.
Ultimately, every expression has a little bit of push and pull, unless your face is completely neutral (and even then, there are still some wrinkles...). Learning to think of expressions as actions and reactions is VERY helpful in learning to draw them without needing a reference, and in learning how to stylize and push expressions based on references as well!
I think a lot of people end up with stiff or unexpressive emotions in their art because they're just trying to recreate a picture instead of understanding WHY and HOW the face is moving --- and it's a tough thing that takes a while to really pick up and learn. Hopefully is helpful in showing a way of thinking about it that can influence your process and approach to emotions!!!
Also, bonus: even without the lines, the planes alone still show a LOT of emotion.
The moment you laid eyes on his pummeled face, you knew what happened. He could lie all he wanted, but you knew. โYou lookโฆlike shit.โ You gently cupped his face, watching him wince at the light contact. A bit of swelling and a lot of bruising would surely ensue.
โThanks for letting me know. I havenโt looked in the mirror yet.โ Dustin tried to brush off the severity of his injuries, and you tried not to act too overbearing. It was hard, thoughโseeing him like this made you think all kinds of terrible things. These bullies, they arenโt just being mean. Theyโre being insane. โJust donโt overthink it, y/n. Iโm fine.โ His insistence didnโt bring you closure.
โYou got the shit beat out of you, Dustin. Youโre not fine. Youโve got a broken nose and, let me guess, broken ribs, too.โ You shook your head, trying to find the words to describe how it made you feel seeing himโsomeone you care for so deeplyโbloody and broken. โAndy and his goons come after you day after day and you let them. You invite them. I justโIโฆI canโt stand here in front of you and act like Iโm okay with that. Please, Dustinโฆplease donโt let me see you like this again, I canโt handle it.โ You stepped forward and engulfed him in a hug, careful not to agitate any other injuries he was hiding under his jacket. Dustinโs breath hitched every few seconds as his chin rested on your shoulder, his chest rising and falling unsteadily against yours. He was crying and he just melted into your arms.
โNothing feels right anymore, y/n. I donโt want to give up but they make it so hard.โ Dustinโs voice cracked as he sniffled through the pain. You ran your fingers over his curls as he held you, unwilling to let go after his brush with Andy. โI miss Eddie. If he was here he would haveโฆhe would have rocked their shit. Weโd have done it together and theyโd be too scared to even look at us, you know?โ
โYeah, I know.โ You nodded, pulling back a bit to look at the mess on his face. โI know Eddie would have also wanted to get you cleaned up and back on track. Can we do something about this?โ You motioned to the palate of black and blue and red and brown smeared across his face. โYour bruises are starting to show and your snot and tears are cutting streaks in the blood and dirt. It looks badass, but itโs also going to get infected.โ You brushed his bangs away from his eyes and grimaced at the other hidden cuts and bruises. โLet me take you home? Iโll clean you up real nice.โ Dustin nodded weakly and you took him by the hand to keep him safe. All you wanted was him safe.
Dustin Henderson x Hoppers!daughter reader headcanons
Requested: could I request head canons for hopperโs daughter dating Dustin Henderson?
A/N: my first writing on this account ahhhh- would definitely write more headcanons for this reader if anyone wants to see that! Also have a load of general headcanons for Dustin! Which also leads me to tell you that my requests are open and I really want stranger things requests pleaseeeeee
Not proofread! Ignore any spelling errors
-Growing up with hopper as a dad definitely meant you had been sheltered in some regards due to his overprotectiveness but that also meant he wouldnโt let you out into the world without at least the basic self defence
-Dustin thinks itโs the coolest thing ever, especially when he first saw you in action in his honour, throwing a punch at someone who called him a silly name. It had landed you a detention but Dustin still brags about it til this day, how the blood had poured from there nose yet you had barely flinched. so it was definitely worth it
-Definitely THE nerdy power couple of the school. You quote your favourite movies to each other on the daily. This 100% gets you weird looks even from your own friends but your both too into your own bubble to notice
-Dustin is so smart that you find it hard to keep up with but heโd definitely help you out with any homework or projects you struggled with. Over the course of elf your relationship he talks science and how to fix things so much that you probably pick some of it up, like how to fix your radio that he insisted you have instead of talking over the phone like normal people
-Made you keep the radio on you at all times so that he could always get in contact with you if needed. Depending on his mood he would either be an annoying shit and use the radio to keep you up all night by making noises and general chatter or be a sweetheart and stay up all night talking to you on it not realising how long youโd been talking til the sun shine through your window.
-The sweetest thing he uses the radio for though is to send you his love, late at night when he thought youโd be asleep his voice in a hushed whisper crackles through your radio telling you just how much he loves you
-Probably how you first heard him say he loves you but you definitely werenโt meant to have heard it
-Is scared shitless of hopper. Will listen to everything he has to say too nervous to find out what happens if he doesnโt. Always makes sure the door is open at least 3 inches
-Hopper is definitely tough on Dustin but heโs dating his daughter he has to be. Secretly though, out of the friendship group Dustin is his favourite, thinks heโs almost perfect for you. However, will act like he is the most annoying person ever in front of you
-He finds it fun to torment Dustin though getting a good laugh out of his back going pin straight at just the sound of his voice. Loosens up on him as you get older and more serious about the relationship, eventually developing into a fatherly-son bond which melts your heart to see
-Though Dustinโs scared of Hopper it doesnโt stop him from his constant pda. He loves holding your hand and wants to constantly have your hand in his, wonโt even drop it in front of Hopper
-Your pda always ends up being slightly silly in some way most of the time unintentionally. Your favourite being when Dustin leans in to kiss you and always forgets heโs wearing a hat which then ends up on the floor after being knocked off his head
-If you ever show any interest in D&D he will create a character for you and add so many characteristics that he loves about you. Not forgetting the crucial โdaughter of a great warrior chiefโ
-One of his love languages is gift giving/mending things for you. The little things he gives you end up spreading to outside of your room and Hopper asks why heโs giving you โtrashโ you just roll your eyes at him
-If you ever have to resort to asking Hopper for a lift somewhere he separates the two of you, making Dustin sit in the back while you sit at the front in the passenger seat. Dustin will sulk in the back and complain to the point hopper turns the radio up to drown him out
