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scapegh0st · 3 months

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One-Way Mirror (Gavin Reed x Reader)

Summary: Both Gavin and Reader suck at feelings Content: NSFW 18+, gn!Reader, smut, angst, hurt/no comfort, fingerfucking, dirty talk, friends with benefits, unresolved feelings, unrequited love, basically just angsty smut Word Count: 1.6k read on ao3

You love him.

Or at least you think you do.

Sure, Gavin Reed is the resident asshole of the Detroit Police Department and he can be hard to swallow—both figuratively and literally—but he's something more to you. He's an enigma that you want to—need to—figure out.

You glance up at him from your kneeling position, one hand wrapped around his cock and the other between your legs. His head is thrown back and his bottom lip is between his teeth. You think he’s pretty like this, with his eyes shut and that screwed-up look of pleasure on his face.

When he’s like this, he doesn’t notice you staring—doesn’t make some dickish comment like “take a picture, it’ll last longer.” It’s one of the few times he’s actually quiet—besides the soft muffled sounds coming from his mouth.

You don’t think he loves you back. You really just think that he’s incapable of love, incapable of being more than this.

He lets you see him like this because you understand him—because you get him. He can call you as many names as he likes and you always shoot them back— dickwad, douchebag, asshole. He likes that about you, you think—that you can match his energy.

Your lips wrap around the head, tongue swirling around like you have to taste every inch of him. He lets out a groan—if he could sink right through the mattress, you think he would. He’s melting and you know that you’re the heat that molds him.

“Fuck… ” he mutters, one of his hands running through his hair and the other gripping your head. He doesn’t push you—he knows better—but he knows you like when he grips your hair. You hum around him before taking him deeper into your mouth.

He’s like water in your hands, slipping through despite how much you try to cup them and keep him there. He’s always two steps away even when he’s right here.

He pulls you off of him, his eyes open and he looks down at you. He’s panting and the wrinkle between his brows deepens. “I don’t wanna finish like this,” he says, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. “Come on, get up here.”

It’s not a demand or an order like he usually gives you, it’s something more blurred—his voice is gentle, not full of spite and a lack of sleep. He’s asking you, letting you deny him even though he needs this. You need this.

You push yourself off the ground and join him on the bed. He’s on top of you in seconds, yanking your pants down your legs–your belt makes a clinking sound when they hit the floor.

There’s this glint in his eyes that you only see when he’s hovering over you. You know it’s probably nothing– just a trick your mind is playing on you–but you swear it means something, that this is what he can give you. It’s not quite love, but it’s enough. It has to be enough.

One of his fingers fills you, drawing a sharp exhale from your lungs. He adds another and your hand clasps over your mouth, drowning the sounds into your palm. He grins that cocky grin that would usually piss you off in any other circumstance—but he’s proud of himself and you're okay with letting him have this. You’d let him tear you apart if he asked.

“Yeah? You like that?” He questions, his own type of pillow talk. “I don’t even have to do this—you’re always ready for me like the good whore you are.”

You should feel insulted—you don’t. Instead, you respond with a muffled moan and a slight head nod. He seems to like that answer as he adds a third finger.

Your free hand grips the sheets and you feel like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to the ground. If heaven was real, you were sure this was it.

“Nobody else makes you feel this good, do they?”

No, they don’t. Nobody else makes you feel like they’re holding your head underwater and that you trust them enough to pull you up for air when you need it. Like sleep to the freezing. Something so good but so wrong.

He pulls out his fingers and you whine, eyes snapping open to narrow in frustration at him. He just laughs that god-awful laugh that you love despite how much it grates your ears.

“What? Is something wrong?” You can hear the smirk in his voice—he’s so smug and you want to fucking throttle him.

You open your mouth to fire back but you’re swiftly shut up by his cock filling you. He’s never gentle when he’s fucking you—it’s hard and it’s fast and it pulls you apart. You’re not sure you ever want him to fuck you any differently.

Your eyes find his face as his hips piston into you, grunts escaping his throat. He’s not looking at you— he never does. You’re always watching him and he’s never seeing you.

His eyes are closed and you wonder if he’s imagining someone else. Someone more pliable to what he wants. You’re made of stone—he can chip away but he never can mold you into something easier to hold. You’ll always have sharp edges—he grabs you like he doesn’t care if he slices his hand.

You close your own eyes, trying to think of someone else. An old hookup. Your last Tinder date. That new android detective, Connor—you know Gavin would hate the thought and you can’t do that to him, not even subconsciously.

Gavin’s presence in your head is overbearing. Every choice you make somehow leads back to him, from your choice of clothing to the life-or-death decisions you’re forced to make each day.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Gavin grabs one of your hands and interlaces your fingers. It’s so… intimate —you don’t know what to think. His hand in yours makes this real—at least to you. It tells you that he’s aware of you for once, that he’s not just fucking a hole— he’s fucking you and he’s conscious of it.

He slams into you again, his head coming down to the crook of your neck. You can feel his breath against your skin, soft pants as he thrusts in and out. “Fuckin’ hell,” he groans, the fingers of his other hand digging into your hip. “You’re so good for me.”

You want it to mean more than it does to him. You could be good for him, you think, you keep him grounded yet you share the same misery—the same reliance on caffeine and these exchanges of endorphins. Maybe you could make him happy, outside of the serotonin he receives when he’s filled you. You’d dote on him; dress up for him, make him a lunch for work, and have coffee ready for him in the morning. It’s a pipe dream and you know it.

“You’re so fucking… fuck… you’re so tight,” the words stumble from his lips as they usually do—he’s close.

Your free hand reaches down to play with yourself, to bring yourself right to the edge with him. If he asked you to jump, you’d ask how high.

His mouth presses against your neck, his teeth hovering over your carotid. He holds your life in his mouth and you trust him with it despite all the signs warning against it. He’s fire and you’re gasoline.

“I’m gonna–” his hips start to stutter. “Fuck.”

You tumble over the edge with him, legs quaking where they wrap around his waist. He collapses onto you, knocking the air from your lungs—it’s suffocating and you love it.

He lets go of your hand and pushes himself up, sliding out of you with ease. He sits back on his knees, hands on his thighs as he catches his breath. He raises a hand to drag over his face, wiping away the sweat. There’s a faraway look in his eyes, like he’s not really here with you. You wish he was.

His eyes shift to the wall to his right. He never looks at you straight when he’s done—you wonder if he regrets it.

You wish he’d just lay down beside you and pull you close. That he’d kiss your head and promise you things he’s not sure he should. He won’t and you’ve accepted that. This is what he can give you and you’re fine with that. You can savor him better like this—if he gave into you, you’re sure you’d eat him whole.

He slides his legs out from underneath himself, one of them resting on its side on the bed and the other pulled to his chest. His arm rests on his knee, his knuckles pressed against the side of his face. You’d paint him like this if you knew how.

“Well,” his eyes flicking in your direction but focusing on anything that isn’t you. “I’m gonna shower.”

He gets up and heads towards his connected bathroom. You wanna reach out and stop him. You wanna ask why he won’t look at you–why he can’t look at you. He acts like you’re the sun—he orbits around you without ever staring at you too long. You might burn him if he does.

“Gav,” you croak out, the first word you’ve said since you've entered his apartment.

He looks at you like you’re the weight on his shoulders—familiar but unwelcome. Or maybe he’s the weight on yours. You aren’t sure.

“‘The fuck you want?” he asks. You know he doesn’t mean for it to come out so rotten—that’s just the way he talks and he knows you understand. But it hurts you this once.

You love him.

You want to tell him—it’s on the tip of your tongue like a word you can’t quite find.

“Don’t slip, dumbass,” you answer with a cheshire grin—it’s forced and you know that he knows.

It’s better that you don’t .

#gavin reed x reader #gavin reed #angst #smut #hurt/no comfort #unrequited love #detroit become human #dbh #dbh connor #dbh gavin #detroit become human fanfic #detroit become human x reader #detroit become human gavin reed #detective gavin reed

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thisstupidrock · 5 months

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Hello detective

#dbh #rk900 #detroit become human #detroit: become human #dbh gavin reed #detroit become human gavin reed #gavin x rk900 #rk 900 #dbh rk900

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flintt · 2 months

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DBH Android Race Analysis/Is Gavin Reed Racist?

An analysis done based on a post I’ve seen calling Gavin Reed a racist.

THIS IS PURELY A DISCUSSION. I AM OPEN TO OTHER INTERPRETATIONS AND COMMENTS. IF YOU’D LIKE TO DISCUSS OR EDUCATE ME IN A TOPIC PERTAINING TO THIS THAT WILL FURTHER MY KNOWLEDGE ON SOMETHING LIKE THIS, PUT IT IN MY ASKBOX OR COMMENTS.

TW: This analysis will include the discussion of whether Androids are considered a race within the DBH World, when they may have not been considered a race, and other racial topics such as if Gavin Reed is racist. I did minimal research on the topic and I am speaking based on the experience of being a minority in America and of my opinions.

Again I want to start with the fact this is an open discussion. I don’t mean to offend, attack, or defend anyone with this post for/with bad intentions because at the end of the day this is a discussion on whether a fictional scenario can lead to the creation of a new race and whether a character is racist to this fictional species. I am always open to comments on this post for more opinions, and I want this to be a welcoming and open discussion.

I recently saw a post on Tumblr about how Gavin Reed is canonically racist against androids and I wanted to share my thoughts on the topic because the subject certainly interesting and very complex. In order to debate on whether someone can be racist against androids, we first have to answer the question of whether androids are a race, and more importantly what makes androids a race in the first place.

The Google definitions of race are considered to be: a major grouping of human kind, a group of people sharing the same culture/history/language/ethnic group, a group of set people or things with a common feature or features, etc etc. By Google definition, I’d like to say that androids in DBH could be considered a race. I’m saying could in the sense that androids at some point weren’t sentient, and we as people don’t often refer what we think are non-living things (things that do not have the ability to carry on life processes such as movement, respiration, growth, reproduction, and response to stimuli.) as a race.

Personally, I don’t believe androids could have been considered a race until deviancy became a common feature amongst androids because of the fact that deviancy gave androids the ability to properly respond to stimuli and grow/evolve their consciousness. Any time before deviancy, androids may not have been considered a race due to the restraints their programming had on their consciousness, restricting their ability to respond to stimuli and grow from it (ex. a robot who hasn’t deviated wouldn’t have the same interest in bugs as an robot who had deviated would because it’s programming doesn’t allow it to grow it’s love for bugs and respond to bugs as a stimuli in order to process their opinions on bugs).

Now apply that thought process on someone like Gavin Reed, who was born in 2002 and most likely was there to watch the development of androids and their integration into society. The first case of deviancy didn’t happen until 2032, when Gavin was 30. It was possible Gavin wasn’t even aware of that case and even more possible that he was still under the impression androids were machinery or another piece of technology. If he was aware of the first case of deviancy, it may have been likely that anyone who knew was told it was bug in the system. Relatably, how many of you thought the mouse moving by itself on a computer or a phone shutting itself off was just a bug or glitch. Now as much as I can find from the wiki, Gavin dislikes androids. The reason I found for this was because of the fact androids have been replacing people in the working scene. Despite having a prejudice against androids he’s also shown to have a respect for them to a certain extent, shown by Connor during the archive room scene if Connor takes the “calm” or “low profile” route. I also believe during that scene Gavin is still under the impression that deviancy is a bug in the code and not a spark of consciousness, which leads to his recklessness with androids.

All in all, I believe Gavin isn’t hardcore racist but more so ignorant as well as a careless one and has a long way to go in terms of his beef with androids. If we were given as much time with him as we were with Hank, I wonder if Gavin would have learned to move past his prejudice like Hank has. (With the mention of Hank, I’d also like to throw in the question of whether Hank was formerly racist to androids at the beginning of DBH)

If you have your own thoughts, be welcome to share! This is all pure speculation and mostly just to get the wheels turning because I am curious to see what you guys think and this game has a multitude of topics that relate to our real world which makes it extra special to discuss.

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh discussion #detroit become human discussion #dbh analysis #detroit become human analysis #racism #race #anaylsis #discussion #open discussion #open debate #gavin reed #dbh gavin #dbh gavin reed #detroit become human gavin reed #detroit become human gavin #is gavin reed racist?

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sun-god-appollo · 2 years

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The Mighty Fall (Part One) | Gavin x Reader

A/N: Hi all! This is my first time posting a fanfiction on here and I hope you enjoy it!

Basically, this idea has been swirling around in my head for ages. Reader is a detective from New York, but she has recently made the big move to Detroit for a sea change. She’s been working for the DCPD for a few months now and is settling in nicely. Little does she know, she might have just got herself partnered with the grumpiest coffee addict out there: Detective Gavin Reed.

Chapter 1/?

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7am, Monday:

I swipe my card as I enter the Detroit City Police Department’s lobby, one of the androids at reception greeting me with a wide, perfect smile, “Good morning, Detective Y/L/N.”

I nod curtly before striding past her and making my way to the bullpen. Heaving out a sigh, I drop my bag down next to my desk before sitting down in my chair. My desktop lights up, sensing my presence, and I plug in my password. The home screen greets me and I waste no time getting back into my open case. It only needed a few finishing touches before it could finally be closed - three months of work and I sure was happy to see that one go. With my eyes glued to the screen, I finish it up quickly before sending it off to Captain Fowler’s office.

Rubbing my eyes, I stand up from my desk and make my way over to the break room to pour myself a cup of coffee. I check my watch - it was 8:30am - good, plenty of time before 9am briefing. I walk past Lieutenant Anderson’s desk and the Lieutenant gives a nod. The android beside him pipes up, “Good morning, Detective,” Connor says in the robotic way he always did. I smile and give them both a small nod before continuing on to the break room.

As I pour my coffee, I feel eyes burning into my skull. I turn around and am greeted with two sets of eyes: Detective Johnson and Detective Reed. The former giggling at something Reed had muttered to her as I had entered.

“Gee, take a picture guys, it’ll last longer,” I mutter before turning back to the task at hand. How I had survived this long at work this morning without caffeine was a mystery.

“Maybe I will, Y/L/N,” Reed responds, shit-eating grin evidently spread across his face from the tone of his remark. I roll my eyes and place the coffee pot back in it’s place before stepping back towards the doorway.

Reed grins at me, “You know Fowler is handing out new assignments today, right? Maybe you’ll be lucky enough to be partnered with the best detective here.”

I scoff and grab a bagel from the table in front of him before exiting.

9am Briefing:

Sitting myself down next to a uniformed officer, I sip on my second coffee for the day. Thank goodness I did not drink this for the flavour. Captain Fowler enters the room around five minutes after I did and every officer in the room straightens their posture ever-so-slightly, except for one - Reed. I listen intently to the Captain as he congratulates us on meeting comp-stat numbers for the month before he moves onto new assignments.

“Johnson and Roberts, I want you to take over the Red Ice case that has been sent to us from the Chicago PD. It seems Detroit is where this dealer hides out,” Captain Fowler states as he flicks through his tablet.

His eyes land on me before quickly scanning the room and stopping on someone else, “Reed and Y/L/N, I want you working on the Turner Street murder case.”

I internally groan. Why? Why, of all people, did it have to be Reed? I force a smile and say with all the enthusiasm I can muster, “Of course sir, we’re on it.”

I can feel Gavin smirking behind me as he remarks, “Don’t worry sir, you’ve got one of your best detectives on the case. New York is in good hands.”

I look at Gavin over my shoulder and glare at him for the nickname he cannot seem to drop, the other officers starting to chuckle around me. With that, Fowler is done handing out assignments and the briefing is over. I grab my now empty coffee cup and push myself up out of my chair, making my way back towards the safety of my desk.

“Woah, c’mon partner. Where are you going?” Reed calls for me.

“Reed, if you seriously think I am going to play nice with you just because we have been partnered up for this case. You are sorely mistaken.”

He chuckles, “Playing hard to get, I see. I like a challenge”

I groan in frustration and turn on my heel to continue out of the briefing room, “Just- Hurry up and let’s get this over with.”

Oh, Reed was definitely going to enjoy this case.

10am Same Day:

“C’mon, let’s go to the crime scene,” I state as I hop up from my chair, glaring over the partition of my desk at Reed. Not only was I cursed to have him as a desk neighbour, but now I’d be stuck with him as a partner too.

Gavin smirks and follows me out of the precinct. His smirk quickly fades as he realises I’m walking to my car, “Woah, what the hell do you think you’re doin’, Y/L/N? We’re taking my car.”

“Hell no. I know for a fact your car would be like the inside of a trash bin,” I smirk at my comeback, pressing the button of my car key and earning a satisfying beep. I hop into the driver’s side, Reed slipping into the passenger side begrudgingly moments after me.

I push the start button and quickly put my car into reverse, the radio roaring to life. A pink hue colours my cheeks as the last song I was listening to blasts from the speakers.

“Far East Movement’s ‘G6’, huh?” Gavin smirks.

“Shut up,” I blush harder and turn the music up further to drown him out.

Once we arrive, I kill the engine and step out of my car. Shutting the door behind me, I make my way up to the house and pull my gloves on.

“What have we got, fellas?” I ask the uniformed officers on site.

“Double homicide,” one officer states, “it’s not pretty.”

Reed steps past me and into the house. I nod at the officers and quickly follow him, pulling out my tablet.

“Geez, ‘not pretty’ is an understatement,” Reed comments.

I make my way over to the kitchen and take notes of all of the marked evidence before heading to the bedroom.

After about forty-five minutes, I step back to the living room to find Reed with his arms crossed and tapping his foot impatiently.

“Are you done?” He questions with a raised brow.

“Uhh, I was taking notes? For the case.. Oh, right. You must not follow protocol like that here in Detroit.”

“Don’t be thinking so high and mighty of yourself, New York,” he scoffs, “Coroner is here to take the body’s to the lab.”

I nod and remove my gloves before stepping back outside, “Reed, hear me out, I don’t think this was a human that did this..”

Gavin turns to face me and raises an eyebrow, “What makes you say that?”

I open up my tablet and show him the photos I took, “What human writes blood on the wall in CyberLife Sans?”

Gavin nods and chews on his bottom lip in thought. My eyes drift down to watch the small motion and I blink, shaking my head to clear the thought.

“You’re right,” he looks back at me, “We should head back to the precinct and call in some witnesses, yeah?”

6pm, Monday Night:

After what felt like forever, interviewing witnesses and following leads, it seemed that we were finally making a dent in this case. I stretch my arms over my head and let out a yawn.

“Right, I say we call it a night and pick up where we left off tomorrow morning?”

Reed looks up from his screen, “Sure.”

He picks up a piece of paper and scrawls something onto it, “My number. For the case. If you think of anything before tomorrow, obviously,” a light pink hue dusts over his cheeks and he looks away as he hands the paper to me.

I take it and pocket it before standing up and packing up my things.

Once I get home I decide to text the number Reed gave me: Is this The Detective Reed’s number?

I get the ping of a new notification before I can lock my phone: Could be. Depends if this is a cute new detective from New York.

I roll my eyes, a blush forming on my face and respond: Good. Now you have my number in case you think of anything.

I quickly send another message: For the case, of course.

I get another reply back, almost instantly: Dang, here I was thinking we’d be swapping pics ;)

I scoff and type back: You wish.

Another ping: Oh, but I do.

And another: On a more serious note, feel free to send all case related thoughts. No matter the hour.

I chuckle and lock my phone. Geez, this case would definitely be interesting.

If you like this so far, please feel free to like and share! Thank you for reading!

#dbh #detroit become human #gavin reed #dbh gavin reed #gavin reed x reader #dbh gavin reed x reader #detroit become human gavin reed

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