Markus x Reader
Fandom: Detroit: Become Human
Words: 786
*Trigger warnings* no major triggers, light teasing about android emotions, mild romantic tension, sensitive themes of identity, android feelings (very soft)
Carl’s house always smelled faintly of oil paint and old books—an oddly comforting combination that you’d come to associate with quiet evenings, warm lamplight, and the gentle, almost reverent way Carl treated both art and the people who loved it.
You were one of those people.
He had invited you first out of politeness—“Come by if you want to see the new pieces. Markus will let you in.”
But you kept coming back because art didn’t just hang on the walls here… it breathed. It felt alive.
And somehow, every time you stepped inside, Markus was waiting.
Not because he had been told.
But because he always seemed to know.
Carl set up the chessboard. Markus stood across from him.
You sat at the piano.
Your usual place.
Your fingers hovered above the keys as Markus made the first move—a pawn sliding forward with smooth, precise control. He didn’t need to look; his sensors told him everything. Still, he kept glancing up every few seconds.
At you.
Carl noticed, of course. He always did.
“Markus,” he said lightly, “if you lose tonight, you can blame it on being distracted.”
Markus paused with his hand over a rook.
“I’m not distracted,” he said, too quickly.
Carl laughed—a warm, knowing sound.
You smiled down at the keys, cheeks warming.
Your fingers slipped into the opening notes of a piece Carl liked you to play. Soft, slow, the kind that filled the corners of the studio without overwhelming it. Music that made the marble statues feel less cold and the rain hitting the windows sound softer.
Markus made another move.
Then looked at you again.
And again.
And again.
“She plays beautifully, doesn’t she?” Carl mused.
Markus straightened. “Yes. She does.”
You tried to keep your focus on the piano, but Markus’ voice had a way of sinking beneath your ribs, settling quietly there.
Carl leaned back in his wheelchair, watching the two of you with a smile that was all fatherly amusement.
“You know, Markus,” he said, “for someone who claims they can’t feel… your face says otherwise.”
Markus’ LED flickered yellow.
“I—Carl, please.”
Carl laughed again, absolutely delighted.
You finally glanced up, and Markus froze mid-move, completely caught.
There it was—the softness.
The intrigue.
The way he looked at you as if you were another piece of art in Carl’s home, one he didn’t quite understand but could never look away from.
You paused your playing. “Need help choosing your next move?”
It was meant as a tease.
But Markus went still—processing the tone, the smile on your lips, the playful raise of your brow. Something in him warmed, softened.
“I don’t think you’d give me good advice,” he said finally.
“Oh? And why not?”
“Because you’d want me to lose.”
You pressed a hand to your heart in mock offense.
“I would never sabotage you.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
For an android, his voice held a surprising amount of warmth.
Carl wheeled closer to his painting. “Young love,” he muttered, loudly enough for both of you to hear.
“Carl,” Markus said again, LED flashing an embarrassed yellow.
You hid your laugh behind your hand.
He noticed that too.
Later, when the game was over and Carl retreated to his studio—
You lingered at the piano, letting your hands rest on the cool surface of the keys. The lamp beside you cast Markus in soft amber light as he came to stand near the piano bench.
“You always play that piece,” he said quietly.
“Because Carl likes it,” you replied.
“And you?” he asked.
You looked up, meeting his eyes.
“I like playing when you’re here.”
Markus didn't move for a moment.
Then—slow, careful—he sat beside you on the bench, close enough that you felt the warmth of his frame, though he technically shouldn’t have radiated heat at all.
“What do you like about it?” he asked.
Your fingers brushed a few keys, a shy little melody.
“You don’t look at the music. You look at me.”
Markus’ LED flickered.
“I look because…”
He hesitated, searching. Choosing.
“…because your expression changes when you play. You look at peace.”
“Is that rare?”
A faint smile touched his lips.
“It is.”
You didn’t realize your hands had stopped on the keys until Markus reached out—hesitant, gentle—and placed his hand over yours.
Human warmth.
Artificial skin.
Perfect stillness.
“I like when you come here,” he said, voice softer than the piano beneath your hands.
“I… look forward to it.”
Your heart squeezed.
“Me too.”
Carl, from across the room, didn’t even pretend he wasn’t listening.
“About time,” he muttered.
Markus ignored him for once.
He only looked at you—really looked—and you felt something shift between you.
Something gentle.
Something blooming.
NAME IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE!!! This is a Detroit Become Human story, Markus x OC.
A/N: Instead of this being over the course of a few days, I’m spreading it out over months. It makes more sense that that’s how long it would take, anyway, I feel. I also really, really don’t like North, and I’m not going to apologize.
XXXXX
This can’t be happening. Simon’s been shot, there’s no way he can make the jump. Fuck. This was supposed to be an easy run, in and out no problems. Of course it couldn’t have been that simple. If only that station worker hadn’t run for it… If only I’d—NO. Markus shook it off. He would not allow himself to think like that, no matter how vehemently North tended to whisper in his ear.
Markus stared down at his friend, at the blue blood seeping onto the ground. They were going to have to leave him, that much was clear. North was insisting that he can’t be left alive, that it would give away their location, and part of Markus knew she was right. If Simon were to be found, that would be it, the end of it, of them. But this was Simon. His friend. Their ally. A living being. Markus had sworn when all this began that he’d never kill a living being.
“I can hide him.” Their heads snapped up at the voice, guns quick to take aim. It was a woman, a human, and Markus vaguely recognized her from the broadcast room. She raised her hands calmly in a non-threatening display. “You don’t have that much time. Your friend, he won’t make your escape. I can hide him.”
“And why should we trust you?” North waved her gun as she talked, then leaned in to whisper at Markus, “She’s a human, Markus, we can’t trust her.”
The woman cleared her throat. “I heard what you said, on your broadcast. A-And I’ve seen the news, too. All these deviants. It’s like androids everywhere are waking up, gaining sentience, and they…you deserve to be free. I don’t want to sit by and do nothing. I want to help.”
Josh was on Markus’s other side. “If she’s telling the truth, she can protect Simon.”
“Or she can hand him over to the cops!”
The banging on the door below them grew more insistent, and Markus knew they didn’t have much more time.
The woman pulled her open jacket away from her body and spun slowly. “I’m unarmed. Give your friend a gun. He’ll have the upper hand, be safe.” She glanced at the door behind her. “You’re running out of time.”
“Markus, she’s right. I’ll go with her, but you guys have got to get going.”
Markus looked down at Simon and ground his teeth in thought. “North, get the parachutes.” As she began to protest, he spun on her and glowered. “We don’t have time, just do it!” Markus turned back to Simon, ignoring North’s bewildered and hurt face, and gave him his gun. They shared a moment, touching foreheads in a final goodbye before Markus stood and faced the woman. “Please, keep him safe.”
The woman smiled at him, kind and open, and Markus just…knew she was being earnest. “I will. Now go.”
Josh was putting the parachute onto Markus, drawing his attention from the woman who had knelt down to help Simon off the ground. As he, Josh, and North ran for the edge of the building, he cast one final look back towards where his friend had been and felt a wave of relief that the swarming security had not found him. I hope that was the right decision.
Xxx
The sun shone low over the horizon as Markus sat, chilly November wind whipping about his face. It had been about two weeks since their broadcast, and it seemed the public had responded rather…well to it. This, coupled with the fact that their hits on the Cyberlife stores left no damage (beyond the stores, of course,) and no humans injured has painted Markus and his “deviant army,” so-called by more conservative news sources, in a rather good light. Josh surely approved and had in fact thanked him in private for choosing to take such a peaceful approach to it. North, on the other hand, was pissed. Markus was struggling to understand her, frankly. Their mission is to free androids and give them rights, yet it often felt like North wanted nothing more than to start an all-out war. Her bloodthirst was insatiable and quickly wearing thin on Markus. He couldn’t take more than a few breaths before she was on again about humans hating them. She’s right. Humans do tend to look unfavorably upon androids, but he knew she was taking it to the extreme. Carl was more than enough to give him a diplomatic view on the situation. Even before Markus had turned deviant, Carl had treated him with nothing but respect and kindness, as though Markus were his own true son. Truthfully, Markus had even considered Carl to be a father, now that he had the emotional capacity to look back on their interactions and read deeper into them. A pang of grief flashed through Markus as he remembered that night, recalled Carl’s groans of pain, saw once more the light fading from his eyes. I should’ve fought back… No. He shook himself. Carl would not want him to grieve, to regret his inaction. “The past should stay in the past, Markus. We must learn from it and grow, but we must not let ourselves dwell on things that cannot be changed.”
He looked down at his feet dangling so high from the ground and let his mind wander. He was surprised to find it had wandered to that woman, the human who had offered to help Simon. Part of him was worried she’d been lying, that he’d given Simon over to danger, but there was something about her he couldn’t help but trust.
North had been downright vibrating with anger after that. Once they landed and had gotten to safety, she’d shoved Markus with a scowl. “How could you have done that?” she’d screamed. “You just gave him to her! A human! Don’t you know what humans do to us?”
Markus scowled as he replayed the interaction in his head. The woman had given them no reason to doubt her, no indication that she meant any of them any harm. Her only crime was being human. If Markus were truly honest with himself, he might even admit that part of him was…curious about her.
“I was wondering where you were.”
Markus had to resist the urge to sigh. One might’ve thought that sitting alone on a rooftop away from your base of operations without having told anyone where you were going might have conveyed the idea that one might want to be alone. But here she was, again. “I just wanted to be alone.”
“I like it here. I come here often.” He stood and turned to look at her, irritation sparking in the back of his mind. “It’s like being alone with the world…” Is that what they were doing then? Cliché, cheesy attempts at romance? Never mind Markus had never given even the slightest hint he was interested in her. “We freed hundreds of our people, and they’re still coming from all over the city. Those who dream of freedom come to Jericho. Something’s changing.”
The desire to bite back a snarky remark concerning the fact that she was stating the obvious filled him, but instead Markus sat in the armchair and looked down at his folded hands. His mind drifted to the woman, of her hands being raised. He hoped she was alright. That Simon was alright.
“You seem preoccupied.”
He glanced up at North, almost like he’d forgotten she was there. With a shake of his head, he looked back down at his hands. “Preoccupied? No. No, no, I’m fine.”
It was a weak lie, and if North noticed or cared, she didn’t let on. She began to pace leisurely. “All the media are talking about what we did at the Cyberlife stores. The humans are terrified. They’re afraid of a civil war. Many of our people will burn in response to what happened.” She turned to look at him. “The humans hate us.” Here we go. “They’ll never give us our freedom.”
Markus was really getting sick of hearing this shit. “No, not all humans are the same. Some of them understand that they can’t stop us from becoming free forever.” The woman from Stratford Tower should have been proof enough, let alone the seemingly welcoming public response to their movement.
Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t done. She turned to take a few steps in the other direction. “You haven’t said much about yourself since you’ve been with us. What was your life like before Jericho?”
Carl’s face flashed through his memory once again, and he thought back to the painting Carl had asked him to do, to imagine. He’d thought of humans, then of comfort, and the final image had ended up being of Carl himself.
Markus stood and faced the city, fighting back a wave of tears and to keep his voice level. “Who I was is not important. What matters now is who I wanna be.”
It would’ve been polite for him to express interest in her background, in who she was, but frankly he was beyond done with this conversation. He turned to leave and managed to get a few steps before she asked, a tone of offense in her voice, “Where are you going?”
Exasperation filled his veins, but he didn’t turn back to look at her again. Instead, he just huffed out a simple, “To talk to the humans,” and left her standing there.
If it had been any other day, he might’ve felt bad. But as it was, he really had not wanted to talk to anybody, least of all North. Her negativity was just something he was not prepared to deal with today.
The walk back to the ship wasn’t too long. Markus welcomed the time to think, even more that North seemed to realize he actually did want to be alone. He was nearly back to the hold and deep in thought when someone stepped in front of him.
Simon. It was Simon.
The two of them stared at each other for a long moment before Markus took a step forward. They both looked as if they wanted to say something, but neither of them had the words so Markus closed the distance between them and took Simon into a firm hug. It lasted about a full minute before Simon leaned away and cleared his throat. He held his hand to the side as if gesturing to somebody, and Markus turned to look.
Her.
The human from before was standing in the adjoining hallway, looking quite nervous. She let out a breath and haltingly lifted her hand. “H-Hi.”
Oh, North is gonna have a field day.
Simon gestured her over and looked at Markus. “Markus, this is Jack.”
Markus nodded to her but eyed her warily. “Pleasure. Simon, can I talk to you for a minute?”
The woman—Jack’s, face fell and her color paled. “P-Please, don’t be mad at Simon. He needed help getting here, and I… Well.” She pointed back at the hall, and Markus’s jaw fell open. Half a dozen androids were standing there, including a child model who was hiding behind an AJ700 model. They were in various states of disrepair, one even missing an entire leg, but they all seemed agitated, on edge. “I had a few people you needed to meet.”
Oh yeah. North was gonna lose her mind.
Xxx
“I can’t believe you would bring her here! A human!”
“She saved my life! There are already humans who know where we are who we trust! What about Rose?”
“Rose is different!”
“Why?”
“Because we can trust her!”
“Well we can trust Jack, too!”
Markus and Josh shared an exasperated look. North and Simon had been going at it for what felt like eons. Markus had been right. North had lost her shit.
“Guys.” Neither of them seemed to notice him, as if he and Josh didn’t even exist. With a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Guys!” They paused to look at him, and he set his hands on his hips. “What’s done is done. She’s here. The question is, what do we do with her now?”
Simon frowned. “She can be useful, Markus.”
“She can’t be trusted! She’s a human!” North’s bitching was getting on his nerves.
“Useful how, Simon?”
“She’s got an in with the news station, for one. She has her own network of connections, people trying to help deviants escape, suppliers. And being seen with a human on our side could be useful in convincing more of them.”
Markus nodded, a hand on his chin in thought.
“Markus, you can’t honestly be considering this?” North’s eyes scanned his face, a bewildered expression upon hers.
He glowered at her. “I am, yes.” He looked across to Josh, who had been silent thus far. “What do you think?”
Josh regarded the three of them for a moment. “I think Simon is right.”
North threw her hands in the air in agitation and turned her back on them to glare out the window. Markus nodded thoughtfully. “You trust this woman, Simon?”
Simon nodded. “I wouldn’t have brought her here if I thought she were a danger, Markus.”
“Then I agree. She can prove useful to us. Josh, please tell her to come in.”
Simon smiled gratefully at Markus and clapped him on the back. They could feel North’s rage seething, but both of them ignored it. “Thank you, Markus.”
Josh returned after a moment and held the door open for the woman. She looked between all of their faces before she cleared her throat and raised her hand in a shy greeting again.
North turned around and leaned against a control panel, every bit of her posture designed to let the woman know North didn’t trust her. Markus rolled her eyes and looked at the woman. “So, Jack was it?” She nodded in confirmation. “Simon tells us you’ve got connections, suppliers.”
She nodded, then as if she remembered something, she took off the backpack she was wearing. North sprung into action and practically leapt across the room to grab the woman’s wrist. Jack held her hands open in defense and cleared her throat. “I-It’s supplies. For you guys.”
“North, back off.” Simon seemed almost more exasperated than Markus felt.
North looked at the two of them before scowling and releasing Jack’s arm. Jack side-eyed her before holding the bag to Josh. He took it and unzipped it, then looked at her with a piqued eyebrow. “How’d you get all this?” Josh passed the bag to Markus who took a cursory peek inside. There were at least a dozen bags of blue blood and some smaller various parts like audio processors, and even a thirium pump regulator.
“I have friends. This one was a friend who works at the store on 39th. She hooks me up a lot. With information, too. Y’know, androids who’ve been…abused, brought back for repairs. That kind of thing.” She seemed uncomfortable under their scrutiny, and rightfully so. “I have some friends who keep watch of some of the worse cases, who pass along my information to any of them they feel might or have turned deviant. J-Just in case they don’t hear about Jericho, of course. I mean, you guys do amazing work, but a lot of deviants don’t get your guys’s key…legend…thing, and they need somewhere else to go.”
Markus was beginning to feel very good about this relationship. “What other ‘friends’ do you have?”
A devious glint sparked in her eye and she smirked. “All kinds.”
Despite North’s predatory gaze, Markus stepped forward and held his hand out to the woman. She glanced at Simon then smiled and met Markus’s grip. “Jack, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
The smile she gave him was downright dazzling. “I’m delighted you think so, Markus.”
Markus x Reader
Fandom: Detroit: Become Human
Words: 830
*Trigger Warning* rain, emotional confusion, gentle romantic tension, android identity conflict
The rain started just as Carl was finishing his last brushstroke of the night.
A soft drizzle at first. Then a steady curtain that blurred the windows and filled the studio with the muted roar of water on stone.
You stood at the door with your coat half-buttoned when Markus appeared beside you, silent as always, but something in his posture felt… tentative.
“Let me walk you home,” he said.
You opened your mouth to protest—you didn’t want to be a bother, and Markus wasn’t exactly built for strolls in the rain—but Carl spoke up before you could.
“Go,” he said, waving a hand. “The night is dark and Markus could use the fresh air.”
Androids didn’t need air.
But Markus still inclined his head respectfully.
“Thank you, Carl.”
Carl smiled—one of those small, knowing, fatherly smiles he reserved for moments he found important.
Moments he didn’t want Markus to miss.
Outside, the rain was gentle but persistent.
Markus stepped ahead of you long enough to unfurl an umbrella—Carl’s umbrella, classic and worn but steady. He held it above both of you, adjusting slightly so the edge covered more of your side than his own.
You noticed.
“Markus, you don’t have to—”
“You’ll get soaked,” he said simply.
“And you won’t?”
“I don’t mind.”
You laughed softly. “Of course you don’t.”
But he tilted his head, and there was something… searching in the way he looked at you.
“Is it strange?” Markus asked. “That I want to do this anyway?”
Your breath caught.
You weren’t sure how to answer that.
So you walked.
Side by side, your footsteps echoing in the quiet street. The umbrella created a small, intimate world between you—just the hush of rain and Markus’ careful presence beside you.
A block later, you spoke first.
“You know… you’re allowed to enjoy this.”
Markus glanced down at you. “Enjoy?”
“The rain. The walk. The company.”
His LED flickered yellow.
“I’m not sure I’m meant to,” he admitted. “But I… notice things when I’m with you.”
“Like what?”
He hesitated—something he rarely did.
“The way your breathing changes when you’re cold. How your smile looks different when you’re trying not to laugh. How you pause before you touch the piano keys, even if you know the song perfectly.”
A beat.
“And how being near you feels… different.”
You slowed to a stop, the rain tapping softly on the umbrella.
“Different how?”
Markus stared straight ahead, as if afraid to look at you.
“I don’t know. That’s what frightens me.”
“Frightens you?” you echoed.
He turned to you then, eyes dark and earnest.
“I keep wondering if this is… a glitch. A deviation. If I’m misinterpreting data. If I’m forming patterns that aren’t supposed to be there.”
His voice drifted lower.
“Or if this is what Carl means when he says I’m more than what I was made to be.”
Your heart tightened.
“Markus… you’re not misinterpreting anything.”
His LED pulsed amber, almost troubled.
“You say that so confidently,” he whispered.
“Because I see it too.”
The moment stretched—quiet, fragile.
A car passed in the distance, tires hissing on wet pavement.
Somewhere a streetlight buzzed faintly.
And then, in a motion so subtle you barely felt it at first, Markus shifted the umbrella to one hand—
—and let his free hand brush yours.
A feather-light touch.
Tentative.
Testing.
You didn’t pull away.
He noticed.
And he froze.
Not like an android halting.
But like a person who was terrified to misstep.
“Is this…” he murmured, glancing down at your intertwined fingers—still only barely touching—
“…okay?”
You slid your hand fully into his.
“Yeah,” you breathed. “It’s okay.”
His fingers closed around yours slowly, as if he was afraid too much pressure might break the illusion.
Or break him.
When you reached your building, Markus lingered.
Rain pooled around your doorstep, and the umbrella shook slightly in the breeze. But neither of you moved.
“Markus?” you whispered.
“Yes?”
“Tonight… did something change for you?”
He searched your face with unreadable eyes—android precision mixed with something human in its softness.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “But I want to understand it.”
You swallowed.
“And Carl?” you asked. “What would he say?”
A small smile tugged at Markus’ lips—a rare and gentle thing.
“He’d say,” Markus murmured, voice low and warm,
“that whatever this is… I should let it.”
You felt your breath catch.
“And do you want to?”
Markus stepped closer, the umbrella dipping with him, bringing your faces inches apart.
“I think,” he said slowly,
“I want to see you again tomorrow.”
Your pulse jumped.
“I’ll be there.”
Something like relief washed over his features—so human it made your chest ache.
He released your hand last—slowly, reluctantly—before stepping back into the rain and lowering the umbrella.
“Goodnight,” he said.
“Goodnight, Markus.”
You watched him until he disappeared around the corner.
You swore—just for a moment—you saw him touch his chest.
As if trying to locate the unfamiliar warmth settling there.
