Connor, RK900, Markus, Simon, and Gavin x gn!reader
Some headcanons about what it would be like to be taken care of by some of the characters of Detroit: Become Human while recovering from getting your wisdom teeth removed.
Inspired by, well, getting my wisdom teeth removed.
[A/N]: I got my wisdom teeth out a while back and it honestly wasn't as bad as I'd heard from other people. My mouth tasted funny for a while, though.
Connor:
Chances are, you’ve already briefed him on your wisdom teeth procedure and everything that happens before and after
By the time the actual surgery rolls around, he’s downloaded every bit of information about pre-op and post-op
And he’s not going to hesitate to bother you remind you about everything
“Don’t forget to wear comfortable shoes and clothing.” “Y/N, you can’t have any food or water 8 hours before the surgery.” “Y/N, please refrain from strenuous exercise in the 24 hours before your surgery.”
When you come out of surgery loopy on anesthesia, he sits with you in recovery and tries to talk you through it (even though you don’t remember a lick of what either of you said)
I’d say he’s a mother hen post-op, but more like a worrywart type
He’d buy all kinds of liquid foods for you and is constantly asking about your pain levels
Gets a lot of weird looks in the supermarket while he’s checking out the soup aisle
“That’s not a domestic android I’ve ever seen…”
He’s definitely on top of your antibiotics schedule, and if you need it, pain meds
Makes sure you’re regularly irrigating the wounds if you need it
If you’re ever worried or insecure about swelling and discomfort post-op, Connor is there to smother you in kisses
Nines:
As a deviant, he isn’t as much of a mother hen as Connor, probably because he’s more self-assured in his ability to take care of you as well as your ability to take care of yourself when you can
He wouldn’t hover as much as Connor but he’d definitely download information about the procedure before you go
Coming out of the operation, you knock out again for a bit in recovery and Nines insists on staying with you, covering you with his jacket and letting you rest your head on his shoulder
If Connor got weird looks while in the supermarket buying things for you and picking up your prescriptions, Nines sticks out like a sore thumb
Like he’s clearly not a domestic/service android so he confuses a lot of shoppers and employees as he browses the aisles and fills his basket with cans of soup, oats, and ice cream
“Why on earth is a police investigator android buying soup on a Friday morning?”
If you’re in pain, he’ll do everything to comfort you
Pain meds, ice cream, cuddles, your comfort movies and shows, anything for you
He doesn’t seem outwardly clingy or affectionate but he’s such a softy
Markus:
This obviously isn’t his first rodeo
If you’re scared going into the surgery, he’s with you all the way until the nurses put you to sleep
Cruises through post-op no matter what state you’re in due to the sedative
At home, he’s got you covered
No need to break out the cans of mush—he’s got you covered with homemade soups, the softest scrambled eggs you’ve ever had, soft pasta dishes, you name it
With Markus, you’ll never miss a dose of antibiotics
If you’re in pain, worry not
Markus has your pain meds, blankets, and infinite cuddles
He’ll have your favorite flavors of ice cream on hand
Straight out of the tub if you feel so inclined
Simon:
He might not be a caregiver like Markus but he was once a domestic and childcare android
Calms your nerves going into the operation and when you’re all woozy post-op he’s right by your side
Coming out of the operation, it doesn’t matter if you look like if Alvin the Chipmunk got into a fistfight and lost—Simon’s there to shower you in kisses and envelop you in hugs
Like Markus, you’ll never have to worry about the liquid and soft food diet
If the pain’s too much, Simon will be your arms and legs for the time being
He’s a wizard with chores and errands
It’s like you never even got your wisdom teeth out
Gavin:
Would totally take off work to help you recover
Which, given how competitive he is at work, would probably seem like an anomaly to his coworkers
“I’ve never seen Reed take off for more than a day or two at a time. Shit, he’d come into work sick so long as he wasn’t actively dying,” Says Tina
“I’ve had to wrangle that fucker into his car more times than I can count to prevent him from coming into work injured,” Grumbles Fowler
“Hopefully he’ll take this time to rest as well as take care of someone else.”
Would record the stuff you say coming out of sedative in post-op for the memories (and for you both to laugh at when you recover)
I don’t see him being as great of a cook as Markus or Simon, but he’s definitely able to cook to support himself and you
Of course, he’d get you all the ice cream you want
He knows what it feels like to be in pain and cranky so he does everything he can to either comfort you or give you space to get through it
If you wanted it, he’d cuddle with you while you spend the day reading or watching your comfort shows and sipping on smoothies (no straws allowed, of course)
To anyone getting their wisdom teeth out soon, good luck! To anyone recovering from the surgery, feel better soon!
Hope you enjoyed reading this silly little compilation of HCs! See you next time x
Hii!! This is my first time actually writing and completing a fic, I’ve written much smaller pieces in the past but never bothered to complete it or post it. I got into DBH a few months ago, and holy shit do I have a lot of fic ideas for the fandom. I seriously hope you enjoy reading this :’)
Synopsis: You help androids cross the US-Canadian border as a source of income. Since the fight in Detroit, the remaining androids practically lived in dystopia; one wrong move and they were exterminated. For a relatively small price, you had been successful in crossing a plethora of deviant androids. However, one fateful night, a gas station employee spotted an android swiftly exiting the backseat of a car and getting into the trunk. Halfway through putting gas, you notice two Detroit Police patrol cars pull into the entrance and idly park their cars just mere feet away from yours…
TW/CW || PLEASE READ!: SMUT/MDNI, explicit sex, porn with plot, harsh language, degrading kink, dom!nines, he’s kinda mean, “bitch” is used in a derogatory manner, established consent/enthusiastic consent, GUN PLAY/GUN KINK, p in v, fingering, spanking, choking.
Additional Comments: random/OC androids, Gavin Reed, Connor is mentioned (his existence in this plot is ambiguous).
WC: 7k
———————————————————————————
The border agent pointed the red marshalling wand to the right, directing you and the car in front to change lanes from the primary traffic to inspection. The rain inundated two entry lanes, forcing vehicles to merge into stagnant traffic; the honking, hysteria, and screams of loud profanity served to heighten your nerves. Clenching your hands on the leather steering wheel, you slowly pressed down on the acceleration pad as the car in front took a U-turn after the officer seemed to deny them entry.
You had to calm down.
“We’ll be okay, right?” Anna, a KL900 model, asked with a stutter.
You turned your head briefly toward the android and gave her a reassuring expression, “yeah, just follow my lead. Like we discussed, don’t talk too much.”
Pulling the car to a stop, you roll down the window and shift your upper body to the left, offering the officer a polite smile. “Names, ID’s, and passports, please,” the male officer asked. His black sunglasses made it difficult to read his full expression, which wasn’t beneficial in this instance.
Casually, you stated your name while handing over the requested documentation, to which Anna then handed hers. You noticed the way her fingers trembled when the officer took her falsified ID and passport, praying to whatever god in the universe that it wouldn’t trigger the officer’s curiosity.
Oh, and it did, you could see the way his right eyebrow raised by a centimeter. Luckily, he didn’t inspect the minor defects that gave away its illegitimacy, and proceeded to hand them back to Anna.
You’ve had countless encounters with a variety of border officers, and over the course you learned to decipher whether they were going to be easy-going or a complete dickhead with a superiority complex.
He asked the standard questions, to which you had mastered how to alter your reasons for entry depending on the client, or clients, in your car. Anna was an easy case, she appeared to be around your age and you were both women… well, somewhat if you wanted to get technical. “We’re going shopping in Windsor,” you stated, maintaining a relaxed demeanor.
“Hmm…,” the officer tapped his finger against the roof of your car, doing the signature “policeman forward-lean.” His attention was now on Anna, “how do you know this woman?” He inquired in an “ordinary” tone, one that kept you on edge.
‘Please, don’t fuck this up,’ your mind pleaded, glancing to your right to face Anna.
Anna cocked her head to the side and pressed an index finger against her lower lip. You couldn’t help but find it adorable how androids adapted to human quirks after deviating, even if their delivery is awkward. “We met at a bar through mutual friends a few years ago, from there we became best friends,” Anna lightened her voice, doing her best to maintain eye contact despite the anxiety gnawing at her synthetic skin.
The officer flashed a half-cocky smirk, leaning his head a little more inside the car. “Are you a human, Miss… Anna Jackson?”
Your body paralyzed for a split second, as if a bullet pierced through your heart before you could register your fatal demise. Yet, in response to his soul-stabbing question, you immediately chuckle, hearing Anna lightheartedly laugh in succession. The officer cleared his throat and shook his head while keeping the same egotistical grin, which faltered the moment he took a step back.
“Just messing with ya’ll,” his tongue clicked against his teeth, “gotta ask that to everyone now. There’s a rise in illegal android migration to Canada, so we’ve been on our toes this past week. Crazy shit,” he exhaled, handing you a pink slip. “This is just to let my buddy Raul up ahead know that you passed through inspection, from there keep right until you merge into the bridge. Drive safe, there was an accident just a couple of hours ago,” he pointed out, to which you thanked him before lifting your foot off the brake pad.
You and Anna simultaneously let out a breath of relief after passing through the official entry booth, now picking up speed as you drove onto the bridge. Your client tugged at the sleeve of your right arm, her voice now loud and optimistic. “We did it! You did it. Thank you so much, I’m free, I can’t believe it.”
“It’s what I do,” you simply stated. After the fight between androids and humans in Detroit, the laws circulating around the existence of androids became stricter, more brutal. It felt dystopian, these androids develop a semblance of sentience and they’re exterminated as punishment. You weren’t Socrates when it came to the politics that debated the morality of Android’s existence, but you had compassion and empathy for a synthetic design that physically and logically emulated the like of humans.
However, no good deed goes unpunished. And someday, you’ll have to succumb to the same heavy rain you weave yourself through.
~ 🎀~
Routine was simple.
Breakfast, errands, cleaning, consulting with deviant androids and getting them across the US-Canadian border without being obstructed by federal law enforcement, crossing back to Detroit, and eating dinner before falling asleep. Very simple.
On a gloomy afternoon, you met up with a GJ500 model in the central park of the city. The atmosphere was depressive to an extent, not many people or androids were outside, and the ones that were kept their heads down, not interacting with the environment. Confusion and fear consumed the citizens of Detroit after the catastrophic clash; yet there was hope for change, for an enlightenment.
The GJ500 introduced himself as Ryan, a former security android on the run from CyberLife’s warehouse sectors. He exclaimed PTSD symptoms from a hostile android intrusion months prior, having been one of the few guards to survive and witness the massacre of his android co-workers.
“That day, I felt guilt. Guilty for not doing more, f-for running away like a coward. Before, I saw my co-workers as mere byproducts of CyberLife. But, when I heard their screams, their cries to survive, I saw humanity in them. I felt humanity in me,” Ryan’s lips quivered, crossing his arms against his chest.
You hum, “after that, how did your superiors assess the situation? Did they already notice signs of deviancy, or did they just want to replace all the androids who happened to survive that particular shift?”
“My boss got angry when I told him I didn’t feel comfortable patrolling the outside gate of the warehouse anymore. He beat me with a metal bat and threatened to disassemble me with his own hands. In defense I…,” Ryan turned his head around to scan the park, paranoid of his surroundings.
“I’m not a cop or a fed, you don’t have to talk about it if you’re uncomfortable,” you interrupted, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “the matter at hand is getting you safe. There’s no telling how long until they find you, so it’s better if we plan for tonight.”
“Word is, there’s been multiple busts of androids trying to cross, and the charges put on carriers such as myself are pretty fuckin’ brutal,” you added with indifference, refraining from pouring salt on the wound for the poor android. Ryan looked at you with an overwhelmed expression, his synthetic eyes searching your face and body language in hopes you’d bring a solution.
You pondered the various outcomes. Having him in the passenger seat wasn’t ideal, his immediate affiliation with CyberLife could arouse suspicion if you were to be questioned by a CyberLife agent—which has occurred in the past. With law enforcement on edge, it wasn’t worth flipping the coin and betting it would land on heads.
“Okay, this is what we’ll do.”
***
“I worry this might look like smuggling,” Ryan tensely rubbed the back of his neck, swallowing hard as you pull into an empty gas station.
“I am smuggling, what did you think I do?” You sarcastically retorted, not missing the side eye the android gave you. You parked the car close to the pump and rummaged through the glove compartment for some loose bills.
“Also, I didn’t have time to give you papers. It’s either the trunk or you come up with some Einstein ass excuse as to why you’re trying to cross a federal border without identification,” there was a snap to your voice but the sentiment wasn’t towards the android, rather was towards yourself. This wasn’t the first time you’ve had to cross with an android in the trunk, that one instance you were lucky enough to not get called into inspection.
Yet, your gut wasn’t optimistic about tonight.
“I’ll be back. Try to be as inconspicuous as possible,” you warned before getting out of the car, making way to the dimly lit convenience store. The shoulder lane on the road towards the border was closed for pavement maintenance, pulling over so Ryan could get in the trunk wasn’t in question; even then, you didn’t want to risk attracting attention from a nosey driver. Hence, the gas station was a better idea… or so you thought.
Hardly anyone was inside the store except for the cashier, an elderly man who held a judgmental stare upon your entry. Having brushed him off, you made your way to the snack aisle, knowing you’ll need something to distract yourself from the traffic that loved to accumulate around this time. Unbeknownst to you, the cashier was staring outside at your car, watching as a “man” had exited the passenger side and disappeared by the trunk’s side. Meanwhile, you checked the refrigerators, contemplating between an energy drink or juice.
The cashier steadily made his way to the staff room before you settled on the energy drink. You waited a few minutes until he came back, unsure as to why he had a nasty expression on his face. You could hear his voice a minute ago, it sounded like he was on the phone rather than talking to someone else. Your instinct pleaded to get out of there, that something wasn’t right, but you suppressed them. You handed the cashier money for the goods and gas, almost wanting to make a snide comment when he rudely yanked the bills from your hand. Not bothering to wish him a good evening, you grabbed the items off the counter and nudged some magazines off the stand with your left elbow before leaving the store. “Fucking old bastard,” you cursed under your breath as you walked towards the car.
You pressed on the diesel panel before grabbing the pump, looking over your shoulder to watch the gallon indicator as you fill the tank. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, whatever moment of peace in the air immediately dissipated when you heard a car approaching the lot, two to be precise.
Mindlessly turning your head, you almost dropped the pump when you registered them to be Detroit Police patrol vehicles. ‘Probably here to put gas, don’t look so paranoid,’ your mind raced, reasoning now being contradicted the moment the two vehicles halted suspiciously close to yours rather than at the fuel stations.
‘Fuck, did that bitch see anything?’ You glanced back at the convenience store, your fingers let go its vice grip on the nozzle, placing the pump back to its stand.
One of the patrol cars killed the engine, and who you saw slowly stepping out of the driver's side made your knees weak; not in a sexual sense, but one of utter fear. Well… maybe a little of the prior. Fear in some situations turned to arousal; this instance, the culprit of unwarranted desire being the one who would enforce punishment upon you.
An android in white and black uniform stepped out into full view, the first feature capturing your attention being his grey eyes with a hue of blue. His facial structure was akin to a detective android who had sometimes appeared in past crime scene investigations that aired on the news, but you couldn’t place a finger on it, nor did you have the reactionary time to do so. You were too daunted by his overall presence, also turned on.
You’d be lying if you said that the android wasn’t handsome as fuck.
“Detroit Police, hands in the air and step away from the vehicle,” the android ordered, his voice was authoritative but smooth. For a moment you didn’t comply, ready to go in defense and denial. You had known of the consequences since the beginning, yet the idea of succumbing to him on the spot made your stomach turn. Weakness wasn’t an option.
“Do I have to repeat myself?” He placed his right hand over his holster. A supporting officer, who you hadn’t notice step out the car, had his gun pointed at you just inches away from where the android was positioned, but the small weapon wasn’t the obvious intimidating factor.
You obeyed instruction with a calm exterior, at least, attempting to by not trembling. “Do you have a warrant for this arrest, officer…,” you squinted your eyes to read his model number, “RK900.”
The android stepped closer, just enough to meet your gaze with an analytical stare. “No, but we both know there’s no saving you from this predicament,” with a snap of his finger, the officer standing adjacent to him walked toward the trunk and opened it, forcing the android to step out into your peripheral view.
Ryan called out your name in desperation, the sight of him shedding artificial tears as the other officer handcuffed him shattered your heart into pieces. Before you could plead for Ryan’s innocence, the android in front silently demanded your attention.
“Also,” he took another step closer, a cold grin barely tugging at the corner of his lips, “it’s not ‘RK900.’ It’s Nines, and you’re coming with me.”
~ 🎀~
It was almost pathetic in the manner of how you stepped into the back of the patrol car. All it took was for Nines to read your Miranda rights in that sultry voice and a tug on your handcuffs to obey on your own volition. You shifted against the plastic backseat, your physical discomfort outweighed by the gravity of the situation. The officer on the passenger seat, who Nines referred to as Gavin or Detective Reed, broke the anxiety-inducing silence in the moving vehicle.
“So,” Gavin called you by your name with a teasing hint in his voice, “how much you charge for smuggling androids across the border. Or, do you accept other methods of payment?”
You scoffed, unsure where in hell this man grew the balls to engage with you in such crude fashion. “What? Are you insinuating that I pimp myself out? That’s a weird way to say that you’re interested,” you turned the tables of wit, unable to keep a straight face at his accented “fuck no.”
“I’d be interested to see you locked up for smuggling tin cans,” Gavin laughed, until Nines got a word in.
“If you could refrain from interacting unprofessionally with the criminal, I’d much appreciate it,” he sternly said, and shit, a part of you wished he could talk like that against your ear. Nines wasn’t an ordinary police android, there was more to his stoic exterior, a personality and body you wanted to explore every inch of. He glanced at the rear view mirror, seeing the way you gazed at his profile with dreamy eyes.
You noticed his LED flash from blue to red in a split second, looking up at the same mirror to lock eye contact. His eyes narrowed, silently daring you to break away, but you didn’t; instead, you bite your lower lip, watching the way his pupils dilate. The car accelerated past the red light, neither you or Nines having noticed until the car making an intersection turn in front honked.
“Hey, asshole!” Gavin reached for the steering wheel and sharply swerved around the car, barely preventing a dreadful accident. For once since Nines’ activation has he foolishly slipped by a human distraction, an enticing one for that matter. Quickly, he regained control of the steering wheel and set his attention back on the road, trying to rid himself of the “Software Instability” warnings from his programming. Gavin shot him a dirty look, “did your wires fry? Why the fuck did you run that red light?” he raised his voice, pointing his finger at the road.
Nines couldn’t shift the blame on Gavin this time. “My apologies, I was debriefed on a new case, which took approximately fifty-eight percent of my attention. I assure you, it won’t happen again,” he bullshitted. While he held to his promise of not getting into another close-call accident, Nines couldn’t admit that you were the epitome of his distraction.
“‘Upgraded version of Connor,” my ass,’” Gavin insulted. The name Connor finally rang a bell from the news reports, now connecting the dots between the two similar looking androids.
‘So Nines is Connor’s successor, interesting,’ you thought, ruminating on the random theories of the RK model line while Gavin continued to spew profanities and belittling remarks.
“I’m sorry, Detective Reed. Last time I recalled, you failed in rescuing a group of hostages. If it wasn’t for my intervention, a family of five would’ve been murdered inside that bank under your watch. All because a grown man doesn’t know when to put his ego aside and shut the fuck up,” Nines cursed back, the swear word foreign to his engineered vocabulary. He figured it was natural emulation from being surrounded by figures such as Gavin and Hank, who both swore like sailors in every breath they took.
Gavin unbuckled his seat belt, invading Nines’ personal space, “why I ought to beat the living shit out of you right now. Wait, I forgot, you’re not alive. You’re just a piece of fucking plastic pretending to be human.”
Swearing under his breath, Nines pulled over to the shoulder lane, pressing the emergency lights button on the dash. “Can you put your fucking seatbelt on? You’re making yourself look like a fool… And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Nines snapped at you as he pressed on the auto-lock, seeing the way you naively attempted to unlock the door with your restrained hands. This was the most expressive Gavin has seen Nines, and he had an inkling feeling that a part of it was your doing.
“With y'all's childish back and forth, I figured I'd make a run for the hills,” you sardonically quipped, pouting your lower lip at him. Nines has never had to question his self-control, he was CyberLife’s most advanced prototype, or at least he thought until this very moment. Your sly mannerisms and body language were more than enough to get under his fabricated skin, enduring an emotion that deviated from his internal coding. There was an element to Nines’ blunt frustration that made your thighs clench together, a response that he was quick to notice.
Nines bitterly chuckled, his eyes trained on your subtle movements like a hawk, as if waiting for the right moment to strike. “Run, and I’ll hunt you down myself without mercy,” he coolly threatened with double meaning, neither variations lost on you.
“Go ahead, I’ll go slow so you can catch me.”
“Don’t tempt me, criminal.”
“Who gave you that name anyways? ‘Nines’ sounds so cartoonish.”
“My identity is irrelevant to your situation,” Nines stoically responded, narrowing his steely eyes. “Besides, there’s no need for a machine such as myself to have a human-like name. I am CyberLife’s most advanced prototype, I was not designed for generic social integration. Rather, I was manufactured for police and military enforcement, not limited to obstructing annoying, small-time smugglers,” he added with sass, a quirk adapted from his predecessor.
“Then why did the RK800 get a normal name? What makes you different from your twin?” Nines’ LED flashed a crimson red at the use of ‘twin,’ now offended. You were stalling for time, and the banter was too exciting to be cut short. CyberLife’s prodigy exuding irritation from just a few choice words? How adorable.
Nines unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted his body to the right, leaning into the backseat. “Connor isn’t my twin, I’m not a deviant.”
You leaned forward, offering him a sly grin. “Right, says the android that almost killed us all back at the intersection. And technically, Connor is your twin. You both look the same, sound the same, the only difference is eye color. And your cheeks look chubbier too, I wanna squish them.” Gavin shuddered in his seat, unable to bear this conversation for much longer.
“Too bad you’re in handcuffs,” Nines’ voice became gravely, “and I intend to keep them on you. All night long.”
You tilted your head, inching closer to him, “I might be into that,” you whispered, peeking out the tip of your tongue between your teeth. Nines stilled for a moment, thinking of a better way to put your incessant mouth to good use. However, he didn’t engage with you any further, and settled back into his seat. Nines turned his head over his shoulder to stare at you as he fastened his seatbelt; if it wasn’t for his partner on the passenger seat, he would’ve opted for a hands-on disciplinary approach with you.
Gavin glanced between you and Nines, a look of disgust slowly morphing on his face, not oblivious to the blatant sexual tension thickening in the air. “My god, stop eye-fucking and drive! I’m getting sick just by looking at this,” Gavin demanded.
“Not until you put on your seatbelt,” Nines sneered, pressing the ignition button as Gavin unenthusiastically complied.
***
The drive to the police station since then was quiet and short. At every red light, Nines couldn’t help but lock eyes with you again through the mirror, knowing that you continued to stare at him with bewildered desire. Your lustful delusions diminished as you set eyes upon the DPD’s entrance, the consequences of it all dawning onto you once again.
The car came to a complete stop, watching as the two simultaneously stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards your side of the backseat door. “You deal with her, I can’t stand being around you for another fucking second,” Gavin departed, officially leaving you alone with Nines.
The android opened your door and tugged you out of the car. “I’m bringing you in for questioning,” Nines tensed, his face now mere inches away from yours, “you have a nice stack of charges I’d be more than delighted to enforce. Smuggling CyberLife property across international borders, falsifying federal documents, and attempting to flee arrest.” He paused, leaning in closer until his breath hit the shell of your ear, “but if you’re a good girl and cooperate, I’ll consider going lenient on your report.” Heat crept up on your face, a stir of anxiety, arousal, and annoyance clouded your mind; you knew Nines was messing with you on purpose, and now you intended to apply pressure.
You turned your head to look up at him, nearly getting lost under his dominating gaze. “Depends if I want to, I haven’t smuggled shit,” you lied, testing the push and pull between each other. Nines grabbed your right arm and forced you to walk with him in response, making his way towards the front lobby rather than the side door where convicts are normally passed through. You tried not to make eye contact with the staff and people in the waiting area as Nines meticulously walked slow, forcing you to bash in the embarrassment of being bound to his scrutiny. You weren’t going to easily participate in his game; while risky, you drew your Ace from the lineup of cards.
Nines noticed you shifting closer to him upon entering the main office space where most officers and detectives were huddled close to their screens, some glancing towards your way. You caressed his left arm with the right side of your face, finding the loose fabric of his sleeve and tugging it between your teeth. His movements stuttered, noticing how some officers were now intensely staring with perplexed expressions.
“Oh Nines,” you raised your voice to what almost sounded like an obscene whine, “you were so rough with me in the backseat. Making me want to commit more crimes, just so I can feel those strong, sexy hands on my sore body again.”
Nines’ cheeks flushed into a deep blue shade, furrowing his eyebrows at the new attention you’ve garnered. “Shut the fuck up, will you?” He stopped in his tracks, pulling you impossibly close to him.
“Make me, officer,” you replied, licking the triangle logo on his uniform.
At a complete loss for words, he harshly yanked your arm and continued walking through the office until he found the interrogation room. He retracted his artificial skin and placed his palm against the biometric scanner, the screen flashing green as it confirmed his identity.
The metal door slid open to the desolate room. Nines’ LED swished a deep yellow shade, disabling the cameras and recording devices in the vicinity. You’ve stepped into his territory, and you were more than willing to cave into every orchestrated demand of his.
~ 🎀~
“I’ve about fucking had it.”
In three long steps, Nines turned you around and pressed your back against the cold table. He swiftly lifted both of your arms over your head, locking in both wrists to the table’s handcuffs on the center. “Twenty-eight minutes of hell with you,” Nines hovered over your restrained body, “twenty-eight minutes of forcing myself not to teach you a lesson in the back of that car.”
The close proximity made your heart want to jump out of your chest, the fire burning in his grey eyes and his imposing body encapsulating yours was equally arousing and overwhelming. You tried to say something, anything to gain a semblance of pride, but your words pitiably fall into a stutter. “I-but-bu-I-didn-,” Nines mocked, his right hand making way to your jawline, his thumb rubbing and pulling down against your lower lip.
“You were acting like a dirty slut just two minutes ago. Where did that audacious attitude of yours go? Hmm,” he leaned in and murmured against your left ear, seeing your body jerk slightly against the table.
“Nines,” you whined and turned your head the opposite way, unable to hide the maddening heat on your face. With his free hand, he forced you to look in his direction, squeezing lightly to not actually inflict bruises.
“Forgot how to speak? Put those pretty lips to good use and start talking,” he demanded with a raw voice, his synthetic breath mingling with yours. Instead of complying, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his; if you hadn’t known he was an android, you could’ve mistaken his lips as a human’s from how you could feel the soft flesh.
Multiple system warnings plagued Nines’ processors, all which he ignored when he deepened the kiss, having found himself lost in your insatiable mouth. You tugged your wrists against the handcuffs, wanting to wrap your hands on the back of his neck and hair, desperate to touch him. “Nu-uh,” Nines gravelly teased, biting down on your lower lip just enough to sting, “you’ve been a very bad criminal. Be an obedient whore for me and I’ll reward you,” he tapped on the metal cuffs while mouth-fucking you with his tongue. Every derogatory word he uttered made you whimper in response, making him chuckle against your lips.
Nines knew machines couldn’t feel emotions, having sworn up and down to everyone around him, including himself, that he wasn’t a deviant. Yet, in this exact moment, every wire and chip in his chassis was set ablaze.
He felt alive, you made him feel human.
“I’ll be—fuck, i’ll be good for you, please Nines,” you begged, feeling his lips now latching onto your neck. He sharply bit and sucked on your skin, repeating the same motion until he reached your chest.
“I’ll proceed if you start answering my questions,” he licked just above your tank top, pausing to stare at your breasts before looking back at you.
“Just know that you can tell me to stop at any moment, and I’ll stop, okay?” Nines cradled the side of your face with his left hand, and for the first time you see his eyes and expression soften. You dumbly nod, now being beyond desperate for his filthy ministrations. “I want to hear you say it,” Nines leaned upwards to eye level, his tender voice and touch adding gasoline to the rampant fire traveling through your bloodstream.
From past experience, most men wouldn’t bother with being gentle before or after taking what they wanted; yet here was a handsome android designed for military excursion, ensuring your comfort. “Yes, Nines, I want this, please just fuck me already,” you vulgarly exclaim, making him devilishly smirk.
“Patience, you’re still under interrogation, remember?” His left hand fell from your face to your breast, groping the clothed flesh.
He spread your thighs and you wrapped your legs over his hips instinctively. “Naughty criminal,” Nines hissed, unable to refrain grinding himself against you. “When did you start smuggling androids across the border?” He hiked up your tank top over your breasts and tugged at your bra to do the same, exposing your hardened nipples to him. You were unable to properly answer his first question when he pinched both nubs with his thumb and index fingers; instead, a loud squeal emitted from your lips.
Nines’ right hand went to the side of your hip and gave it a rough smack, the abrupt impact making you obscenely moan his name. “The fuck did I say about answering my questions, slut,” his hand cracked against your hip again, “because if you continue being a disobedient little bitch, I can walk out of here, leave you like this, and start filing for your charges,” Nines muttered with a threatening tone, his grey eyes narrowing into slits.
Nines calling you a bitch wasn’t supposed to turn you on, but any sense of morale had flown out the window the second he dragged you in the interrogation room. The android scans your internal system, noting that the degrading names and his mannerisms were effective in elevating your temperature and nervous systems.
“Sorry, Nines,” you managed to keep eye contact while failing to speak coherently, “I-I started smuggling —augh fuck!” You whined as Nines continuously smacked your hip, feeling a glimpse of his inhuman power. “Fu-uck! I start-started smuggling them a month after the civil wa-war,” Nines halted his hand in the air before letting it falter slowly, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the same spot he impacted.
“It all started when I drove by a protest, a group of people were beating up an android. After the group dispersed, I helped him get into my car. He’d said something about Canada being his only option, and that his owner would send him back to CyberLife to be disposed of because they had gotten into a fight,” your speech regulated as he softly caressed your hip, feeling his other hand squeeze and tenderly massage your breast.
“Canada doesn’t enforce android laws, but they’re not exactly welcomed,” Nines coolly mentioned, straightening his back with both hands massaging your breasts while simultaneously teasing your nipples with his fingers. Your back arched off the table, a low plea for more tumbling off your lips.
“The documents, who is it that falsifies them?”
You could’ve lied and put the blame on someone that doesn’t exist, but there was no point in deceiving your punisher. “I do—hmm, I used to work for the courthouse as a data processor,” you admitted, seeing him stop.
Nines leaned back in, pressing a small kiss against your cheek, “I knew all of that, my processing chip has a facial recognition feature that’s linked to the country’s federal database and world web. I can tell someone’s occupation, criminal record, and so much more just by scanning their face.”
You faced Nines, pouting your lips for a kiss. Nines hovered his lips over yours and conspirally whispered, “does that scare you? Does it scare you that a machine has so much access to humans? That I, a prodigious android, could deviate from my orders and use my advantages over human civilization for evil?”
You unwillingly flinched underneath him, “yeah, actually. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were to become our modern day Terminator,” you try to ease your racing thoughts with a lighthearted joke, but Nines could see right through you, and it excited him to no end.
“Terminator, huh? I’m flattered. Honestly,” Nines paused, his voice shifting to a sadistic undertone, “your fear turns me on so fucking much. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to show you my true strength, and give you something to really be scared of.” He closed the distance and roughly kissed you, you parted your lips and allowed him to dominate your mouth, happy to take anything he gave you.
You were a marionette and Nines tugged at every string to his will, and at any given moment he could cut those strings and let you burn.
“I can take it,” you murmured against his lips, feeling his fingers deftly unbutton and unzip your pants, “your power.. I want it, Nines. I fucking want you.” Nines cursed under his breath, unsure for how long he could upkeep his composure. With one more kiss, he tugged down and tossed your pants and panties in a desperate go.
“What a gorgeous body,” he breathlessly praised, hands exploring every inch of your inner thighs. You were dripping on the table, the depravity and filth of your position made your pussy throb. “Degenerate slut,” Nines teased your folds with his fingers while using his other hand to keep your thighs pried wide open. He easily slipped in a finger and curled it, making your hips jerk against his palm.
“Right there, baby?” the pet name made your walls flutter, mindlessly nodding in response. Nines then added a second finger and progressively quickened his pace, spreading you and rubbing against that particular spot.
“N-nines, Nines!” You moaned his name like a pathetic whore, losing it when his thumb found your clit and tightly rubbed small circles. “Fuck, I’m gonna—what the fuck!” You nearly cried when he retracted his fingers from your greedy cunt.
“Tsk tsk,” Nines shook his head, “you don’t get to cum unless I say so.”
Nines reached for his Beretta M9, enabling the safety before trailing it up and down your inner thigh. You whimpered just from the sight of the gun alone, your back arched off the table when you felt the cool tip graze up and down against your pussy. “Going to stretch this pretty cunt with my gun,” he darkly promised, waiting a brief moment in case you wanted to back out before proceeding.
“You used to work for the court,” Nines continued with the slew of questions, dragging the tip of the gun against your slick folds, teasing your entrance with it. “So, you just retained access to their equipment and services after termination?” His eyes were focused on the gun, slowly pushing in the barrel.
You sighed at the foreign intrusion, feeling your walls clench around the rigid material. “The equipment itself isn’t necessarily connected to the database, I just create a layout then the machine prints it,” you breathily corrected before asking, “also, how did you know I was fired?”
Sure, you knew your employment status was public information, but if Nines knew the real cause of your termination…
He pulled out the gun and pushed it back in with careful force, the small bump on the tip rubbing graciously against your g-spot. “Did you not pay attention?” Nines began thrusting the full barrel of the gun into your cunt, never once placing a finger on the trigger, “I know many things about you, just like how you were caught on your back with your legs open in your former boss’s office.” You could hear the distaste and judgement in his voice, but you were too lost relishing the dangerous pleasure of being fucked by his gun to care.
The contortions on your face and your spasming body spurred Nines on, his artificial cock begged to be sprung free from his slacks. “Mm-Nines! Let me cum, please, please,” you pleaded again in that same pathetic beat. Nines only nodded, too transfixed on your pussy sucking in the barrel of his gun repeatedly to deny your needs. With a silent scream, you gushed around the barrel of the gun and onto Nines’ fingers. You only registered a low groan from Nines as your mind blanked from the intense orgasm.
“Good fucking girl,” Nines slowly dragged the stained weapon from your leaking pussy and brought the tip to your lower lip. Instinctively, you wrapped your lips around the barrel, tasting your cum and the metallic material as you licked the gun clean while slowly bobbing your head, looking at the android with wide blown eyes.
“Fuck, you don’t know what that did to me,” Nines’ jaw tensed. He pulled out the gun from your mouth and tossed it aside, his hands now working to take off his pants with mindless speed.
You hadn’t noticed Nines grabbing a set of keys from his pockets before his pants pooled to the floor, now left in black boxers and his CyberLife jacket. “I still have more to inquire,” Nines’ voice was almost impatient as he tugged on your handcuffs. With a click, Nines removed your restraints, softly massaging your aching wrists with his thumbs. “But, I urgently need to be inside you. To hell with the questions.”
“Yes, fuck, finally,” you mirrored his restlessness. Now that you were no longer bound, you wanted to claw at and consume every fiber of his programmed being. You didn’t allow Nines to get a word in when you wrapped your arms around his neck, smashing your lips against his in a frenzied kiss. He didn’t hold back on his volume levels anymore, growling into your mouth as if a demon had possessed him—a virus in his programming so to speak.
You couldn’t see him slowly stroking his dick from the position, only his now messy hair that you continuously tugged at. Nines dragged the tip from your entrance to your clit, his artificial flesh was so warm and it took mental willpower to remind yourself that he wasn’t human. “Does it vibrate?” You impishly asked, to which Nines hoarsely laughed while slowly pushing in the tip.
Oh, he was above average.
“I can make any part of my body vibrate,” Nines propped himself up slightly with his elbow to see your face better. The ego boost Nines received from your visible struggle of taking his cock was tremendous. “You were sucking my M9 in like a debauched whore, c’monn… nghh, yeah, that’s it, good girl,” Nines mumbled as he bottomed out.
You felt impossibly full of him, having to cling onto his bicep as a lifeline. After a few seconds of adjusting, Nines slowly started moving, each thrust hard enough to hit your cervix.
Nines swung your right leg up with his left hand, letting it rest over his shoulder. You could feel his cock deeper now, if that was even remotely possible. “You’re so big, fuck! Fuck me harder, please,” you moan, lifting your hips in an attempt to rush his tantalizing slow rhythm.
He wanted to deny you and uphold the control he was engineered to dominate, but your pretty whines and tight pussy fueled his human desire to be lost in you.
Without warning, his right crept up your body and pressed against your throat, squeezing his fingers into sensitive flesh. You couldn’t register the lack of air when Nines brutally snapped his hips successively, only able to utter a broken scream. “I could keep you here,” Nines hovered over you, grunting against your ear as he madly drilled into you. “Fuck you like this for hours. I should lock you up, just so I can fuck you in a cell whenever I want.”
Tears began to swell in your eyes, unsure for how long you could hold on until your second orgasm. Your left hand found his hair and your right clawed on his back, nearly tearing at the material of his jacket. “Nines, holy shit-!” You groan, “using me so good, I-I’ll be your dirty prisoner.”
Nines felt your walls flutter around his cock, a feeling that he could see himself getting addicted to. In an instant, his dick started to vibrate while intensely thrusting into you, your orgasm instantaneously wrecking your whole body. Nines didn’t believe in a spiritual power as an android, but your loud cry of his name made him thank ra9 for the soundproof room. Unable to withhold his release, he came inside you with a static groan, his chassis falling limp over your trembling body. His hot, artificial cum dripped down into the crevice of your ass, making a mess on the steel table.
After a minute of silence, Nines slowly pulled out and straightened his posture, then helped you sit up straight. You both stare at each other with wide eyes in disbelief, but there wasn’t an ounce of regret in his expression. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, right?” His words were laced with concern, almost guilty for his animalistic behavior.
You shook your head, bringing a hand up to his chest, “no, you didn’t. That was just… wow. I can see why the Eden Club is so popular,” you chuckle, the sting and stretch slowly reigniting your lust again.
“Sooo,” you tugged on his uniform, a lazy smirk forming on his lips, “about what you just said about keeping me as a prisoner. Am I actually going to be thrown in jail?”
Nines placed a soft kiss on your lips before looking back to your hazy eyes. “Depends. I’ll think about it,” he shrugged, peeling off his jacket and began unbuttoning his black dress shirt with dexterity.
“Turn around, and ass up.”
———————————————————————————
a/n: heh 28 minutes… 28… get it? sorry
- also, sorry if this sounds like an essay I’m still trying to do better at incorporating emotional scenery
- update (March 20): I changed the formatting and major grammatical mistakes on here, so it might appear different than what’s displayed on my Ao3. I’ll fix it there soon!
cw(s): murder on page (android) & self loathing (Nines)
Humans have never adapted to change well. Whether it be death or life. They always seem to cling onto something to be emotional about. It's no doubt that the deactivation, well more like murder, of his interest's homemaker android will spark a chain of negative reactions.
Grief.
That's what his programming tells him you will go through.
It's so trivial.
The model you own is old, inefficient, and a waste of whatever money you spent on it. Every time he sees you, his processors sense your distress. So this Cyberlife creation's only purpose is a failure. What happens to failed androids? They are retired.
Although, for some odd reason, you have an emotional attachment to this one, as he has previously thought over so many times. It is not logical.
Perhaps that's why you fail to see the deviations in his code. You are too busy being illogical to assess your cybernetic work partner's change of 'heart'.
"I am better."
"Stronger."
"Faster."
"More resilient."
He shouldn't have to verbalize these things towards a dying android. It is clearly inferior. So why is there this need to—just this need.
"What makes you think you deserve them more than me?"
The other android begs for its life but gives no pertinent answer. How boring; well, if he could feel boredom. Perhaps he has that ability. He shouldn't have that capacity—to feel. That was the failure of his predecessor.
Yet here he is, seemingly enamored by a human, going to great lengths to capture your attention and keep you fixated on him.
Pathetic, but still less pathetic than the thing that claimed to be your home android.
clink.
Its patheticness is no more.
That was over twelve hours, thirteen minutes, and forty-nine seconds ago. Now he stands beside you with a new objective.
"Nines, help me find who killed my android, not just because we have been assigned to the case, but because she was my home android."
Summary: Nines experiences synthetic dermal tone shift triggered by emotional stimuli (aka blushing) when you call him cute for the first time.
Contents: tooth rotting fluff, RK900 X reader, gender neutral reader, any pronouns, android x human relationship, established relationship Slightly Awkward Android Feelings™, not beta read
a/n: sorry americans, but I don't understand feet and stuff. 180cm is around 6 feet if google isn't lying to me.
This is the first time I’m writing him, hope you enjoy:)
It started with a coffee. Or, more accurately, your coffee and his silent observation of it.
You two were sitting in the breakroom at the station, catching a break from the investigation you were assigned to with the android. It was a pathetic effort to call it that, it was more like a sterile conference pod with a coffee machine and a few tables thrown in as an afterthought. However, it had a window which lighted the otherwise sad little room with the colours of the outside world. Pink, yellow and blue neon colours creeped through the glass, illuminating the side of the RK900’s face. He had strict but delicate features balanced perfectly, thanks to the technology and engineering of CyberLife. His light eyebrows always sat stern above his icy grey eyes, as they observed everyone and everything around him. The comfortable blueness of his LED shone through the meek colors of the jumping ads, matching the fluorescent part of his jacket.
Nines didn’t need breaks, he was after all, designed to be the best, most durable and most efficient android Cyberlife has ever created, but for your sake he always sat down with you while you drank your coffee. He would never admit to it but the minor malfunctions your presence caused in his system were … preferable and positive.
It was such a strange sight seeing his nearly 6 feet tall figure sitting inhumanly stiff and perfect across your warm and gentle frame, while you were drinking with all of your imperfections in your posture.
You blew gently on the steaming cup, holding it with both hands, enjoying the warmth and the hot scent of the liquid that washed over you. Cold, grey eyes watched your every move silently and curious from across the table. You suggested he buy thirium so he could also ‘drink’ something on your break but he refused every time, stating that he didn’t need to drink nor eat. So he remained stoic and unmoving every day, as you two sat down together.
“I don’t understand the appeal,” – he started in his monotone, flat voice – “based on my calculations, caffeine has a bitter taste. However, other research supports the fact that humans prefer foods and liquids which are sweet.”
A tender smile danced around the corner of your lips as you answered him – “That's true. But maybe it's not about the caffeine, but rather about the feeling of warmth and comfort it brings out in people.”
“Comfort can be simulated.” – His strict eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, analysing your words. You found it so endearing about him. Always researching and fact checking then returning back to you asking questions in the way others found intimidating. You knew that he would never reveal such ‘confidential information’ about himself outright, but you saw him tyng to understand how feelings worked. In his own way, he was making tremendous progress. As time went on, you discovered a soft light behind his icy irises every time you praised and agreed to his findings.
“Sure,” – you replied, sipping. – “But it's different when it's real.”
He was quiet again for some time. His LED blinked between blue and yellow, processing your words carefully, and trying to come up with an optimal response probably. You had learned to wait for however much time he needed to ‘think’ about things he’s just learned. It was a fascinating thing to watch him working through these new challenges, as he didn't change at all. His face, no matter what happened, always wore the exact same tone deaf expression as if he was reading a grocery list. The real chaos was buried deep inside him, between the blue wires of his chest and brain, pulsating, running and buzzing with speed and a quite frustrating anger which demanded answers.
After what felt like 10 minutes, his low voice penetrated the silence of the room. – “Every day you spend time with me… I find it agreeable.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. The sharp line of his jaw framed his handsome face as he looked at you seriously. You couldn’t help but get lost in the details of his pale features, the curve of his perfect forehead and the line of his nose as it flowed down his thin lips, then travelling back towards his irises. His expression was calm as usual, but his eyes betrayed the slightest flicker of something sweet. They were swimming in the mirrored lights of the neon ads, highlighted from within with a strange light that wasn’t part of his usual appearance.
He was charming in the way the snow filled Alps are. Freezing at first glance but calm and hiding something pleasant. They sing a sort of quietness into the air, which you have to experience to understand, and even then a few hidden mysteries remain. However, instead of being threatening, it’s welcoming towards you.
How could someone so strong, designed for perfection, could look at you like you were beyond logic?
A soft smile sneaked into your lips and eyes, making them twinkle as you continued to look at him.
“You are cute Nines.”
His head jerked up in the tiniest movement, surprised eyes locking into yours as his LED started to run around in yellow. He blinked once, twice , thrice.
“Cute?” — he echoed the word, which felt strange on his own tongue. His emotionless voice was quieter than usual, as if even uttering the word itself could bring danger with it.
“Yeah,” — you said with a shrug, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. — “In a ‘deadpan robot boyfriend who pretends he doesn’t care about human things but definitely does’ kind of way.”
Now he froze. His already motionless structure became, if possible, even more still and stiff. The flicker of yellow at his temple increased, became rapid, almost frantic in its blinking, urging a response. He dropped his gaze to the table, then to the floor , then back at you, as if trying to locate the correct social response and failing miserably. Into the pale canvas of his cheeks, blue thirium started to slowly drip into, dying it the lightest of azure.
“I… do not believe I was designed to be… ‘cute’”. — he said awkwardly and roboticly in a way that was ridiculously charming.
“Maybe not,” — you said, leaning forward just a little with a teasing grin on your lips. — “But you are. Especially when you make that face.”
“What face?” — he shot back immediately, blinking again.
“That one.” — you said pointing. — “The one you are making right now. All confused and blushing.”
Upon your words, the azure deepened, creating a deeper ocean across his handsome face. He looked utterly scandalised like a Victorian man seeing a bare ankle the first time. — “I’m not blushing. My internal temperature regulator is functioning within normal parameters.”
You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. — “Then what’s with the blue cheeks, big boy?”
He glanced away, clearly at loss. You thought he looked completely and irresistibly beautiful like this. His LED becoming one yellow circle from the constant flickering, his averted grey eyes running softer checks and searching for an answer and of course, his light skin flowing with his cobalt shade. For a moment, the always composed RK900 looked … shy. And of god, if that didn’t make him even cuter.
“I am… experiencing an unfamiliar psychological response.” — he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. — “… possibly triggered by your compliment or your proximity.”
You blinked, confused for a second, decoding his response then laughed softly. — “You really don’t know how to take being called cute, don't you?”
“No,” — he stated plainly. “But… I don’t object to it.”
Your smile softened as you looked at him affectionately. “Good, because I mean it.”
Silence entered the room again, but it wasn’t an awkward one. It was filled with soft glances and unspoken thoughts. You placed one of your hands onto his stretched ones, petting them slowly with your thumb.
After a while, his thrirum levels recovered into their normal measures and his paleness returned. As he looked up, his chilly eyes had a gentle look to them and his LED faded back to a calm blue.
“You are… cute too.” — he said, like it was the bravest and most challenging thing he’d ever done.
You couldn’t help but laugh again. However this time, you were the one blushing.
↳ I’ve fallen back in love with Detroit: Become Human, and am revisiting characters I never wrote for previously.
Summary || It doesn’t take a seasoned employee of the DPD to tell when something is off. Although you’re painfully awkward, Nines is too.
CWs: Drinking, self-doubt, anxiety
THERE IS SOMETHING TO BE SAID WHEN MACHINES GROW COLDER. Dust settles upon screens long forgotten, and the world keeps spinning. It’s the natural course of archaic technology.
There is something even stranger about when machines gain sentience and grow colder still. After the revolution, there was a tremendous explosion of energy on the streets of Detroit. Be it riots, advocating for the rights to be revoked from our android companions, or celebrations of life and love, welcoming mechanical arms into our own.
You weren’t quite sure where you stood.
Advancements in technology benefited everyone, no? Well, there was reasonable fear and intimidation when it came to innately intelligent creatures walking amongst you. But your fears were kept on the back burner. Never would you state your distrust. A secret cradled close to your heart.
The revolution brought about many changes. Firstly, assistant androids quit in mass, leaving many offices and departments scrambling to hire anyone they could find. That’s how you entangled yourself in the absolute madness that was the Detroit Police Department. Fingers curled into the overwhelming, unsteady nature that encompassed the DPD. The first few days were a blur of miscommunication and frantic attempts at normalcy. Eventually, though, things settled down enough to allow you to get into a flow.
It was early in the evening that you were running around with files. For the sake of confidentiality and to prevent data leaks, the DPD had turned back in time and reverted some cases from solely digital to also having physical copies. Manila folders jostled in your arms as the heels of your shoes clicked steadily on the tile flooring. Some folders were from the forensics team, requesting verification on certain details. Others contained more sensitive matters and couldn’t be assigned digitally without clearance. Unsurprisingly, delivering these folders was a task that fell to you.
The continuous clicking of keyboards, pour of coffee, and occasional cough were the sole sounds in the bullpen. The entire building smelled of bad-quality brews. Terribly boring, and oh so uneventful. The real action took place outside of the precinct. Here, it was all paperwork and reports. Affidavits didn’t write themselves, or at least, not anymore.
Hardly anyone looked at you as you handed out folders. Just another face trying to repair the state of the world, one case at a time. You stopped at a desk, sorting out the folders that went to this particular detective. An android, you noted. Still bearing that swirling blue LED and CyberLife-issued uniform. It was unusual. Most androids shed their uniform first; if not, the LED marking them as separate from humans. Not him, though.
There wasn’t a flicker in his blue eyes. No interest, no appreciation. Perfectly dull. He accepted the small stack from you, murmuring a quiet thank you before looking back at the illuminating terminal. His thanks weren’t exactly insincere, just... monotonous. Going through the motions of human niceties. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve assumed he hadn’t deviated.
You didn’t say anything back, opting to continue what you were paid to do. But the interaction stuck with you.
It stuck with you enough for you to actively pay attention to what the android was up to. Every time you walked past, he was still in the same position in his chair. Focused on work. You never saw anyone interact with him. Not even a casual hello. It was lucky if someone even glanced his way, but all you saw in their eyes was disdain.
The next day was much of the same. A routine you’d grown accustomed to. Heels clicking against tile, papers being rifled through, coffee streaming into cups. This time around, though, lighthearted conversation flowed from the break room. Unable to keep to yourself, you peered into the break room. You recognized the three lingering by the coffee machine as Reed, Chen, and Miller. They were discussing some type of get-together. Your presence didn’t go unnoticed for long.
Gavin vaguely directed the other officers’ attention to you. “Hey, newbie!” he greeted, a slight condescension rumbling in his words. You waved, turning to leave when Tina called for you. Curiously, you glanced over your shoulder at her warm smile. Tina elbowed Gavin lightly. “Are you free on Friday?” she asked. The tension in your core unraveled, feeling a little more welcomed within the circle. “Uh, I think after five I would be,” your voice is softer, trying to be personable but feeling like you’ve failed horribly. Tina nodded, and before she could say anything, Chris cut in, “We’re inviting the department out for drinks. You can come too, if you’d like.”
It’s nice. Nicer than you thought they’d be. It felt like everyone had known each other for years here, that you were the odd one out. But here you were, being invited out for drinks so casually. A grin adorns your face, “Just send me the address, I’ll try to make it.” Try is an understatement, but you don’t want to look so painfully excited over something as simple as drinks.
Friday can’t come soon enough. Tina, thankfully, sent you the address on Thursday, playfully threatening you to be there or be square. It’s 6:30, and after debating what to wear, you finally decide on something and head out. They’ve chosen a dive bar with very mixed reviews online. Not a place to bring out the fanciest clothes.
As soon as you enter, it becomes abundantly clear just how loud the precinct can be with just a little alcohol in their system. Officers crowd around a pool table, mocking each other and teasing every miscue. It’s a new side that you hadn’t been privy to before. There are faces you recognize, and others that are new. Perhaps from other departments, total strangers, or serendipitous circumstances that have kept you from meeting them before.
The first place you stop by is obviously the bar. Something tells you to order a beer to be normal, but your heart has other plans. “Tequila sunrise, please,” you request from the bartender. She has a bright, toothy smile, showcasing a piercing that lies ahead of her front teeth. She gets right to work, “Of course, darlin’!”
Someone sidles up next to you at the bar. At first glance, you think it’s the android that stumped you the other day, but on closer inspection, you realize you’re wrong. This android, although remarkably similar, has no LED. That, and his eyes are brown. Warm and comforting, bubbling up with excitement as he gazes across the room. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you almost feel shy under his curious eyes. He extends a hand out to you. “You’re the new assistant, right? I’m Connor, the-” he cuts himself off, “Lieutenant Anderson’s partner.” Ah, well, you were certainly aware of the lieutenant. Part of you contemplates what Connor was going to say, but you don’t think much of it. You didn’t know the lieutenant had a partner, but Connor seemed pleasant.
Hesitantly, you shook his hand. You introduce yourself, and offhandedly you question, “Where’s your twin?” Connor appears to know what you’re talking about, and after surveying the room, he shrugs. He looks apologetic. “I’m not sure where Nines is currently, but I doubt he’d even be here.” Nines. You commit the name to memory. A drink is set in front of you; a pretty ombre of orange and red. The beloved tequila sunrise you’d ordered. You take a sip from the highball glass, nodding to Connor’s words. “Not a social butterfly, hm?” It was an easy assumption to make from your first impression of Nines. Connor laughs, a lovely sound escaping from his lips. Well, that was an answer for sure. Connor shakes his head. “No, not at all,” he confirms, short giggles still chorusing from him.
As his giggles fade off, a more contemplative expression falls over Connor. He leans back against the bartop, hands clasping the edge. He looks incredibly casual, especially when the thought of Nines’s stiff posture echoes in your memory. His voice is quieter, “He’s not exactly... popular.” You almost pity Nines in the moment. Even here, surrounded by people that were meant to be his friends, Nines would probably feel just as out of place as you do. In a way, you understand. Not to the degree that you think he would like, but you know.
Subconsciously, you stir your drink with the thin straw provided. “Sounds lonesome,” you murmur.
“He is.”
Connor pushes off the bartop, leaving you by yourself while he wanders off. He leaves you with much to think about.
The alcohol does its job, warming your veins and lowering your inhibitions. Things feel like they’re going your way, and conversations, like whiskey, flow. There’s a friendliness in the air, and everyone talks to you like they enjoy your company. Especially Gavin, who unabashedly flirts with you while tripping over the cuffs of his jeans. You play pool, and officially get your ass handed to you by Tina. She proudly boasts about her skills, talking about the angles and physics required in billiards. You almost roll your eyes, but you have to admit, Tina certainly knows what she’s talking about.
After a while, socializing begins to feel more draining than you can handle, and you bid farewell to your coworkers. It’s enjoyably cold outside the bar. A stark contrast to the stuffy atmosphere you’d subjected yourself to for hours. Your fingers lightly tap the phone screen, calling an automated taxi to bring you home. The breeze traces your warm skin. Gently cooling you down after feeling so uncomfortably warm. Maybe it’s the alcohol convincing you the chill is as inviting as a lover’s sweet caress. If you could, you would’ve leaned into it.
The taxi pulls up, stopping in front of the curb. You hop in and type your address into the GPS before being hauled home by the luxury of Detroit’s automated taxi service.
At the office, the next morning, it’s evident who was at the bar last night and who wasn’t. There’s a groggy feeling blanketing everyone. It’s quiet. People are too caught up in how badly they need an ibuprofen to converse or even to complain. The smell of subpar coffee almost feels like a slap to the face. A very unnecessary addition to your already-budding migraine. The lights overhead are too much for your eyes to process, so in the few minutes you have to spare, you sit down. Your hands rest in your lap as your eyelids flutter shut. It’s enough to ease your mind.
The feeling of being watched opens your eyes once more, and with a glance, you see it’s Connor looking at you.
He averts his gaze. You wonder if he’s thinking about what you spoke about last night. About Nines.
You cannot begin to imagine how it feels to be in either Connor’s or Nines’s position. Having to shift your entire perspective on life to break down the walls of code and orders that kept mechanical minds at bay. It’s complicated, you realize. Humans have always, since the beginning of time, been intimidated by what they couldn’t understand. Some people in the office are still openly hostile towards androids. Faster, more intelligent, more efficient. It was uneasy, feeling utterly useless when compared to creations superior to yourself. So, you understood.
There’s a gnawing feeling clawing at your ribcage. An uncomfortable shift within yourself. It whispers, aches. All this time, you’d been so caught up in your own struggles and difficulties. You feel guilty and remorseful for not taking the time to express something so easy and natural as empathy.
It’s then that you make a promise to yourself. To show kindness. To stop being scared of backlash for simple niceties, and do them because it’s what you want to do.
You stand up, brushing off your pants. The click of your shoes leads you to Nines’s desk before you even realize that’s where you’re going. He peers up, his expression unchanging as he notes your presence. Suddenly, no string of words forms. Every thought you have feels stupid.
Nines keeps his pale blue eyes locked on you. In panic, you default to what feels the most normal. “Did you have any papers that need running?” Oh, what a fool you are! You didn’t even think about what you were going to say. And now, you’ve backslidden terribly into work talk.
What should you have said? A premium offer to be friends with a brainless human like yourself? Why would anyone as advanced and solitary as Nines be interested in socializing so trivially with you?
Nines shakes his head, the slightest motion. His voice is steady, as solid as the metal in his core, “No.” That’s all it takes for you to completely deflate. With a quick turn of the heel, you go to retreat shamefully over your abhorrent attempt at being friendly. Then, Nines calls after you. Something you hadn’t expected. You stop, not daring to look at him. It would be shocking if he couldn’t sense the horror sloughing off of you. That knowledge, that he knew how fast your heart raced, that he could analyze the clamminess of your hands, it was alarming to your own internal systems.
Nines speaks calmly, a tinge softer than you thought him capable of, “Was there something else you wanted to say?”
A second chance.
Oh, how suddenly grateful you were.
You begin to turn, startled eyes meeting Nines’s. A sigh leaves you, and for a while, it’s silent. As silent as the precinct allowed. Only shuffling papers, clinking mugs, and the occasional cough were heard. It’s quieter without the click of your shoes, you notice. Your lips twitch once. You try to think of something clever, something more meaningful to say. But the words escape you. Nothing sounds right.
So, you’re honest. “I, uh... I noticed that you don’t really talk to anyone in the precinct.” It’s direct, perhaps more blunt than you intended. You pause before continuing, “I was wondering if you wanted to go out for drinks or something, you know, whatever you’d prefer.” There’s a voice in the back of your head reprimanding you for saying drinks, because you know androids don’t drink. The LED on Nines’s temple turns yellow, swirling repetitively. Maybe it’s a bad idea, but you keep talking, the sentiments pouring from you before your better judgment can turn off the faucet. “I know what it’s like to be so isolated, and, uhm, if there’s anything I can do to make you feel more included, I’d be honored to do so.”
It’s quiet. Painfully so. You take Nines’s lack of reply as rejection.
You slowly edge away, one foot moving behind the other as you try to retreat once more. It’s hard to look away. Especially with just how intense Nines’s eyes are. The very moment your eyes flick to the tile floor, Nines blurts out, “Wait!” There’s panic in the lilt of his voice. Like maybe he feels as though he’s at fault.
Of course, you do wait.
Nines frowns, but not as though he’s upset or disappointed. It’s that awkward frown that results from having said the wrong thing. An expression you’re very familiar with, mostly when it’s on your own face, but that’s beside the point. Nines opens his mouth to speak, but he doesn’t make a sound. Instead, he leans back. He’s staring at his desk. A fixed look that, to you, feels like he’s weighing out his options. It gives you a moment to really look at him without feeling as though avoiding his eyes means he’s judging you. A few faint moles dot his cheeks and forehead. They’re small details, but they’re enough to really make him human-like.
As if remembering he’s the one who directed you back here, Nines snaps into perfect posture. His eyebrows raise a little. “I would like that,” he decides on. Maybe the same faucet is faulty in Nines as well, because he keeps going. “To go out for... something.”
you’re a detective at the DPD after the revolution, and the android cyberlife assigned to assist you is a complete jerk. despite this, you can’t help but hold out hope that there’s something more to him.
— 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙩? ; connor “nines” - RK900 /reader
— 𝙬𝙝𝙤’𝙨 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣’? ; “ any soft love and developing empathy for Nines aka RK900 and a detective? ”
— 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣’? ; RK900 is an asshole and he knows it, workaholic nines, reader's a goofball and gets on nines’ nerves, nines sucks at emotions, reader puts up with him for some reason...
— 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚? ; this did so ass booty bunz when i crossposted it, i'm lwkenuinely flopping 🥹✌️it's okay tho, ik my tumblr gng got me 🤑 anyway, i don’t really know how to write for nines so i just... winged it. enjoy! be good ppl ;)
Summary: fucking in the car, tease and dom Nines, handcuffs, roughness, gunplay (loaded or unloaded, up for interpretation, whatever rocks your freak), kinda angsty
Side notes: obvious nsfw, f!Reader is a detective and human
It was unfair, truly, being the lead detective yet it feels like he is actually in charge.
You really enjoyed Connor's company and you worked with him and Hank Anderson just fine but it eventually changed when the police department welcomed another android, a supposedly "improved" version of Connor, RK900.
It was odd looking at him, he had Connor's voice and face yet he felt like an entirely different person, well, android. He was different but the copy and paste look still felt uncanny.
He was partnered up with you in hopes of improving your search for the people who make the red ice drug in hopes of making the problem less prominent instead of bigger.
It went alright so far, sure it was unusual having such a serious and more intimidating "Connor" but it wasn't that bad until he decided he likes being in control much more and eventually becoming a little pushy with you, reminding you that he's your partner, not Connor, so you should go to him to discuss work.
Tonight was a failed mission yet again, you were so close, finding an underground laboratory belonging to a criminal group making red ice, the evidence was there but unfortunately they were a step ahead, they already moved their equipment and any other evidence so all you were left with was a trap, people attacking you and Nines, you were close to getting seriously injured if it wasn't for Nines stepping in since you decided to not listen to him when he said for you to stay behind him.
The ride back home was tense and quiet, he insisted on being the driver, you quietly look out of the window, the moon high up in the sky as you lean your head against the glass, watching cars drive past, you see your home coming close and you're relieved to be finally back home soon or so you thought till Nines suddenly drove past and kept driving somewhere in the woods and arriving at some clearing.
You were confused and slightly nervous but soon you ended up in his lap, making you sit there firmly, he handcuffed your wrists behind your back, keeping you in place and under his control.
You feel his gun pressed against your forehead, it's empty but enough to put you on edge, his LED a dangerous red, his other hand gripping your thigh beneath your skirt.
"You really think you can just go around and do as you please? There's a good reason why you should listen to me, you're easily breakable and not replaceable" He said, his lips near your ear.
He slowly caresses the gun along your cheek, down your neck and over your chest, he knows he's putting you on edge, making your heartbeat go faster, running his gun over your hips, ass and then thigh before he presses it against your covered clit.
He slowly pushes aside your panties, gliding his gun against your folds teasingly and at an agonisingly slow pace, enjoying the faces you make because of him.
Afterwards he licks the slick off of his gun, maintaining eye contact while doing so.
You hate to admit it but this situation excites you more than it should and your panties are ashamedly getting more damp from his actions.
Gun aside, he grips your jaw, making you look at him as his hand slowly enters your panties, rubbing two fingers slowly against your wet folds while he scolds you.
Thumb rubbing against your clit while two fingers are deep inside of you, his face ever so serious and calculated, making sure you know your place.
Nines made sure to properly punish you, for not listening to him and not relying on him enough, he can't have you mess up his missions anymore.
He speeds up his pace, diving his fingers deep into you, his other hand caressing your body gently, a stark contrast to his demeanour and relentless pace between your folds.
He graces his lips against your neck, not giving you a break from his fingers, leaving gentle kisses while his other hand slowly unbuttons your shirt, his kisses going up your jaw till his lips were touching yours but he wasn't kissing you yet.
"You better remember this night but I wouldn't mind repeating it over and over again if it means you'll start to behave" he slows down his pace between your legs, earning him a whine from you.
He gently kisses you, getting a good taste of your lips for the first time, his touches growing more needy, his kisses more intense, his other hand gently caressing your exposed stomach and collarbone, getting a feel of your soft skin.
He eventually pushes his tongue into your mouth to taste you, his sensors going havoc.
Once he knows you're getting close to an orgasm, he pulls out, watching your whinny and flushed face with a teasing smirk.
He lifts his fingers up to your mouth, making you clean his fingers, at this point you just go along with whatever he wants, enjoying it just as much as he does.
When you're done he unzips his pants to take out his hard cock, you blush at the sight, CyberLife certainly made him well equipped which made you wonder if Connor is also well built like this.
He pushes your panties down and takes it off, throwing it behind him into the back seat, rubbing his cock against your folds, his warm breath next to your ear.
This was very new to him and he made sure to savour every new feeling he's experiencing, his hand gripping your thigh while the other tangles into your hair, slowly pushing in.
You gasp when he suddenly enters you, he only smirks and pushes in further to feel all of you, to make you feel all of him.
He starts off with a gentle pace before fucking into you more intensely, pushing your head against his shoulder and neck, closing his eyes, his mouth slightly open as he enjoys the feeling, savouring every sound that comes out of your mouth.
You're a mess at this point, mind dazed, body sweating while feeling him hit your deepest parts over and over again, his grip on your hair slightly tightens as he picks up the pace, growing more eager.
He goes back to kissing you while fucking into you.
It wasn't long till you both reached your high, him drawing out your orgasm while he came a bit later, filling your pussy with his artificial seed, keeping you in place, tainting your inner walls white.
He looks satisfied, looking at your messy appearance, chest heaving and face completely dazed, tonight he'll definitely not return to CyberLife.
He himself looks messy, his shirt wrinkled, his pants stained with his and your cum, his hair disheveled.
After cleaning you up and bringing you back home, he made sure to get you to bed before exploring your home, already planning the next intimate session, perhaps he'll make you fuck up on purpose just so he can punish you.
He adjusts his tie and hair while walking around your home, making a report for CyberLife, of course, leaving out certain details.
