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honey-beann · 1 year

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Beautiful Ruiner, Damn My Ashes (18+)

RK900 x Reader (NSFW)

Note: So like I mentioned prior to posting this, this same fic with a few edits made to it and a few things removed was posted to one of my other blogs early last month. It was originally written as a Nines x Reader that I edited to make that post, so this is the unedited original. I hope you enjoy!

Synopsis:

Pure smut, lustful, carnal, sinful smut lol

I left a little easter egg that allows this to be read a spinoff part of the Ruiner Ruination series, but this isn't necessarily cannon at all (although it eventually may be, I haven't fully decided yet if I'm being honest).

Chapter Content Warnings:

NSFW

Pure filth

Angst

Word Count: 1,757

He panted heavily, his chest heaving as he groaned out in both anguish and pleasure, the feeling of your nails raking down his back somehow splintering him and bringing him to life all at once.

God, you were ruinous.

The way you looked up at him when he touched you like this, filled you like this, was addictive, life altering, something he could not live with nor without.

You would be the end of him,

And oh what a cruel and beautiful fate that would be.

The crescents of your nails stamped permanently into his synthetic skin, your voice the last thing to play before his ears, and your body beneath his the final thing his eyes would ever see,

How could he dare to argue with such a lecherous demise? Such a fruitful lust, as long as it culminated in him seeing the stars that played behind your eyelids when you finally came undone for him.

So beautiful,

So heartbreaking,

So necessary,

So incredibly ruinous in Every. Single. Way.

The end of all ends,

The beginning of all beginnings,

Your body, your pleasure, you.

He felt guilt begin to build in his chest as he watched you, brushed the hair out of your face and behind your ear as you whimpered pitifully beneath his body, helpless to his never ending barrage of fulfilling thrusts as he penetrated you to the hilt

over and

over

and

over

again.

He growled harshly at his own uncontrollable thoughts,

His own uncontrollable needs,

And quickly took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, watching as you opened your eyes to meet his familiar, cold gaze.

But he was so struck at what he saw within those eyes that his hip-bruising voracity waned, and his own orbs widened in surprise,

There was hope there, pride, joy, and something else he could not put his finger on,

Or rather, something that he did not want to put his finger on.

But, no matter,

They were rather occupied at the moment anyhow.

Busying themselves with your neck, your hair, and with the act of pushing your fragile, fidgety hips against the mattress in order to render your struggles futile.

But those eyes of yours,

So beautiful,

So shiny even in the dimmed light of his bedroom, where only the dying white bulb of his bedside lamp and the moon could light his path to salvation,

(to you).

He was awestruck as he gazed into them.

There was silence in his mind for a few moments, as he stared down at your body, at the place where the two of you were connected as one, despite everything he had done, and everything that he had not.

But then, noting his slowed thrusts and sudden lack of urgency, you mewled for him in a way that made his mind race, those claws of yours moving from his back to his hips to pull and scratch at them, causing them to stutter before speeding up once more.

Surely you would kill him like this, oh beautiful ruiner, damn far more than his soul, but even his ashes to Hell for the thoughts you caused him to have,

Of your body all but crushed beneath his own as he pushed himself inside of you, body shuddering as he squeezed his gray eyes shut and prayed for release from the torment and torture that needing you like this caused him.

Of the way that your face looked as he did so, mouth slightly ajar in that way that always had him stuffing three fingers down your throat just so he could feel you moan and cry out around them.

Of your hands as they grasped at him as if he were the only thing on earth, the only one you craved, and oh if only he could bring himself to believe you could ever need him in the way he did you, then maybe, just maybe, this beautiful and carnal suffering could come to an end...

But he was far from a fool, and more than anything else he had ever faced, you had completely and utterly destroyed him.

He was ruined for anyone save for the woman who was laid out beneath him, that was for certain.

And all of his feelings for you, the hatred, the annoyance, the fondness, the admiration, and that one other thing he had seen in your eyes...

They made it so hard to focus, so hard to forget, and he couldn’t help but wonder what else he was doing this for if not that.

Why was he buried within you, gasping for air, pressing his sweaty forehead against your own and almost smiling, if not to forget?

Did he not do this to distract himself from his growing fear and uncertainty? And if he did then why was it not working? Why did you have him considering all of these things that caused him such turmoil while he was buried so deep inside of you that he could hardly recall his own name,

(The name that you had given him, so perfect on your lips...),

And how was it that he was still so close despite that? Your tightness damn near driving him to madness even as he was all but brought to tears by his own inner musings.

He could not force himself to answer those questions, but he could bring himself to push them all away, and drown himself in you,

And so he did.

Nines began to thrust his hips into yours even harder, his finger tips digging into your ass and thighs with bruising force as he lifted you towards him for better access, desperate to be connected, and desperate to be whole in a way he had never truly understood.

You gave him all that he could ask for and more, and he hissed when he felt you press closer, your ankles locking around his hips as you squeezed your thighs tighter to his body, your head falling back in what he knew

(prayed)

was bliss.

You always looked so heavenly when you came undone for him, tightening and quivering around his length helplessly.

Such a perfect sight to behold, such beautiful damnation, as if you were made solely for his eyes to see,

Or maybe as if he were made solely to see you.

Oh how he wished he could be something more than what he had been predestined for,

How he longed to be yo-

He could not allow himself to finish that thought.

And he did not have to.

Cursing, gasping, growling, Nines came deep inside of you, his hands shaky as he lowered you to the bed completely a few seconds afterward, slowly severing the connection between your bodies.

It was cold all alone, so cold when he couldn’t feel you, that he had half a mind to bury himself inside your heat once more, and just forget about the outside world.

But before he could, you spoke, confusion in your voice as you raised your hand to his face to brush some of his perfect hair away from his eyes.

“Nines?”

You asked softly, and your voice made him shiver far more than the coldness of this lonely world outside of you ever could.

“Yes?”

He replied lowly, as if afraid he would frighten you away if he spoke too loud.

“Why wont you kiss me again?”

Nines inhaled sharply as if struck by your words, and he allowed his gaze to sweep over your form slowly as his mouth began to form a response,

“I can’t, it wasn’t fair when I did before. It wasn’t real, it was just hungry, and cruel, and I won’t do that to you again. I am a lot of things, Little Mouse, but I am not a monster."

His words were spoken more to reassure himself than you, and he knew that, but even so he looked towards you to find your reaction, and the sorrow and everything else, unchanged from before, that could be found within your eyes was very nearly too much for him to bear.

Especially that unnamed emotion, the one that made his stomach clench with dread.

You raised your fingers, adept and nimble, familiar and haunting, to his face once more, this time framing his cheek and stroking it gently with your thumb as you spoke, sympathy so evident within your tone that it should’ve made Nines angry,

But this time it only hurt.

“Oh but Nines,”

You murmured, and he panicked as your familiarity started to fade, and that emotion he could not, would not, name, began to bleed away from your gaze,

“If that’s true, then why are you in here instead of being out there in the real world?”

Ice cold fear clutched at Nines' chest as your body beneath him vanished, your warmth replaced with an oh so familiar nothingness that made him want to weep for not just what he had lost, but for what he had never even had the opportunity to lose in the first place.

He was so lost in the darkness, with nothing and no one there, and he called out to you for what felt like hours with absolutely no response but his own voice echoing back at him, reminding him of his sins, and his atrocities born from emotions he had not been designed to feel, but had acted upon regardless.

He awoke from his scheduled stasis gasping for air, his thirium pump pounding in his chest cavity as he sat up quickly, looking around for someone in his darkened bedroom, the only light being that of the moon, which poured in past his open curtains.

But you were not there,

And you were the only one he would ever search for, whether he would admit that to himself or not.

He was completely alone, and the world was cold again, outside of you.

There was nothing to do now but lay awake and remember your warmth while ignoring that feeling of guilt as it grew stronger and stronger inside of him, because deep down, he knew

He would never find that emotion in your eyes anywhere outside of his own "dreams", which were really just his own imagination combined with the memories he wished he could simply be rid of entirely,

But he could never bring himself to let the feeling of you beneath him go,

Even if you were not his to dream of in the first place.

“Beautiful ruiner, what have you done to me?”

AO3 Link

#c: nines #s: ruiner ruination #rk900 x reader #dbh x reader #dbh smut #rk900 smut #rk900 x reader smut #nines x reader smut #nines x reader #dbh x reader smut #nines smut

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ash-writies · 2 years

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Update

The amount of updates I post smh… anyways I just moved so that’s why there hasn’t been any posts, I’ll work on some later this week and try to get a queue set up!

Also, I was thinking about trying kinktober? To try and practice writing smut… send some asks!

Also opening requests for Moonkinght ;) (both smut and normal ones)

#author speaks #ash speaks #connor x reader #connor rk800 #connor x you #connor detroit bh #connor x y/n #connor detroit become human #detroit become human #moonknight #steven grant #Marc Spector #Connor smut #rk900 smut #Marc Spector smut #steven grant smut #jake lockely smut

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paleepeaches · 6 months

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Dom Connor x afab!reader (smut)

Warnings: foul language, rough sex, creampie (this is literally my first smut so) 18+ fuckers

“Please, Y/N, please, I’ve been a good boy.”

You laughed mockingly down at him, continuing your assault. “Connor, being a good boy means having patience. Just look at you.” Your hand tilted his chin upwards, and his brown, warm eyes met yours. They were blown and filled with need.

“We’re just getting started, and you’re already begging for me to fuck you.” As soon as the words flew out of your mouth, something switched inside Connor. Perhaps it was some sort of secret code, you said, but it caused his eyes to lower into an almost primal stare. He growled hungrily, hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, and in one swift motion, he flipped you over. You fell to the bed with a soft thump, a small gasp leaving your lips. You couldn’t believe the puppy dog android had it in him. Usually, Connor was always the one underneath you. Now, the roles were switched. His interrogation side had come out to play.

He took hold of himself, adjusting the position and moving his swollen leaking tip closer to your clit. You gasped loudly as soon as you felt him. Your hands gripped the bicep of his arm, nails digging into his shirt and faux skin. You whined and withered below him as he rubbed slow, delicious circles over your sensitive nub. You could feel his sticky wet pre cum coat your folds, making a lewd mess.

His head lowered to your ear, his breath fanning over it and causing goosebumps. “Who’s begging now?” His voice was hoarse and filled with mockery. He retracted from you, showing that lopsided grin off to you. He was taking enjoyment in watching you whine and beg. It was an unusual but pleasurable sight for him that made his LED spin yellow.

“Please, Connor, I need you.” Your voice was small and breathless.

He chuckled darkly and smoothed your hair out with one hand. “I’m gonna need more than that, Y/N.”

You knew the detective in him wouldn’t be satisfied with a lazy half-confession. He wanted you to spill out how much you craved his touch. He wanted to hear the soft pants and whimpers laced with your words as you told him how much you wanted him to fuck you. It was a new experience for you but one you took with a sense of thrill. You bent for him and opened your mouth again, begging, “Please, Connor, I need your coc-” You were cut off by him slipping his mushroom tip past your folds and into your achingly tight cunt. You moaned, clawing at his bicep again.

“You can do better than that. Come on, I know you can use that pretty little mouth of yours.” He stared you down with a stern gaze. He wasn’t satisfied with your soft, small voice. You knew he wanted more for you to be practically crying out for him.

“Come on, baby, tell me what you want.” Connor slowly inched his tip back out, and your cunt let it go with a wet squelching noise. You whined, feeling the loss of him inside you. He knew how to make you break, bend and beg. His job was to get confessions, and he always accomplished his mission.

“Please, Connor! Please fuck me. I’ll be a good girl for you!” You cried out, clawing needily at his arm, the one gripping his cock.

He smirked down at you, enjoying your confession. He was satisfied enough and slammed himself into you. You moaned out, back arching and cunt clamping down on him. He groaned, panting as he felt you struggle to adjust to him. “Fuck, you’re always so tight, baby.”

Bucking your hips up, you struggled to fuck yourself up on his cock. His hand gripped your waist, pushing your hips down and pinning them on the bed below you. “We just started, and you’re already begging for my cock.” He echoed your words, teasing you. He didn’t let you respond and rammed himself into you, fucking your poor sopping cunt. You bit your lip, trying to suppress the loud moans escaping your throat. He noticed the lack of noise quickly, his LED spinning red. His hand gripped your face while his thumb pushed past your lips, invading your mouth. Pressing his thumb on your tongue, he urged you to moan. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear those pretty little noises.”

You obeyed him simply feeling like you’d do anything for him-not that it wasn't the truth. You let yourself go, crying while he plunged himself balls deep into you. His tip kissed your cervix and caused you to wiggle under him, spreading your legs further apart so he could fuck you deeper. “You like that?” He cooed at you. You nodded vigorously, wanting to cry for him to hit it again.

He groaned again, hitting your cervix once more. “Fuck.” The more he snapped his hips into yours, the more wet you got. He could feel your arousal spill out of you, coating his cock and bathing his heavy ballsack. You could feel the thick bundle of nerves inside of you coming undone. Connor could tell you were close by the way your pussy clenched tighter around him, desperately sucking him in. “This greedy little cunt wants to cum?’ He questioned you darkly.

“Please, please, I wanna cum.” You gasped out, panting from the extreme overdoes of pleasure he was providing you.

Connor wasted no time and pinned your arms above your head; his other hand slipped under you, gripping your ass cheek. He was ramming inside of you, causing your whole body to jolt violently. Your eyes rolled back, and cries escaped you that you weren’t even aware of. All you felt was his delicious tip bumping repeatedly into your cervix. Whimpers spill from your mouth, and your cunt contracts, clenching down on him as you cum.

“Shit!” He growls as he feels your warm arousal coat him, soaking his cock. All he needed was to feel the unbearable sensation of your cunt milking him to cum. Hot spurts of his seed pant your insides as he pants heavily. He thrusts sloppily into you a few more times, making sure not a single drop of his cum was wasted. He pulls out and watches his cum pour out of you, stuffing his finger and pushing it back in.

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urlonelystarrr · 9 months

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ultraviolence | part two

rk800 'connor' x reader x rk900 'nines'

GENRE → angst, romance & smut

SYNOPSIS → your feelings for connor grew as the android revolution went on, though a new partner makes you question your feelings.

TAGS/WARNINGS → 18+ descriptions of corpses, blood, violence, homicide, child abuse/neglect, creampie, dirty talking, overstimulation, choking, oral(male & female giving/receiving)

CHAPTERS → PART ONE / PART TWO

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after working in the DPD for so long, you never could get used to the sound of your alarm blaring at 5:00 am. by the time you arrived at your desk, your limbs were already aching for the warmth and comfort of your bed - the type of tiredness that could only be satiated by a full night's rest (which you didn't get most nights).

to add onto the poor sleep schedule you had, the past few weeks had been filled with an unnecessary amount of paper work, and most of your time was spent sitting in front of the terminal at your desk. in order to pass the time, you'd make frequent stops to connor's desk, only to be yelled at by hank to get back to work. or you would attempt at small talk with nines, to which he always responded with narrowed eyes and a stern look. it was clear he wasn't fond of small talk so early in the morning.

this morning was no different than the last, as you sat at your desk, bored out of your mind. the day had just begun, and the steaming cup of coffee on your desk still wasn't able to replace the extra hours of sleep that you had missed. as if a silent prayer had been answered, you swiveled your chair around to see connor's lovely face, greeting you with a good morning. "good morning detective, you seem to be in a good mood today," he gave a small smile. "all thanks to you," you smile, not noticing the grey eyes across your desk watching the two of you. connor stayed silent for a moment as his LED pulsed amber, and you followed his line of vision to see nines doing the same. "i've sent the case file to rk900, i've just got a report of a double homicide and a suicide," he briefed. "what an amazing way to start my morning," you replied, sarcasm laced in your tone.

"lieutenant anderson is currently supervising an academy student, and since i'm not authorized to investigate crime scenes on my own, i will accompany you today." connor said, hands clasped behind his back as he looked down at you. nines stood from his seat, making his way over to join connor. you took a sip of your coffee before standing up to join the pair, grabbing your keys and heading to the lot.

"what do we know about the homicide?" you asked nobody in particular. unfortunately you had to sit in the backseat of your own car, as nines insisted on driving and connor took the passenger seat before you could. "a mother had murdered her own two children before taking her life. an hk200 reported that he was a witness and is currently at the station giving a written statement," connor turned around to look at you, before turning back around to face the road. "and this happened how long ago?" you asked.

"around 20 minutes ago," nines suddenly spoke, despite being quiet the entire ride. "did the android mention that she had a husband?" nines looked in the rearview mirror to make eye contact with you before replying, "no, however legal documents show that she is married." he pulled into a vacant area near the house crowded by bystanders, police and news reporters. the three of you passed the digitalized 'POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS' tapes, ignoring people's questions about what had happened. as you entered the home, the three of you split up. as stated in the report, the crime took place in three different areas; the kitchen, the bathroom upstairs, and the last in the children's shared bedroom.

you headed over to the kitchen, where the wife laid motionless at the table, a gunshot wound lodged in the back of her head. part of her brain matter was exposed, and the surrounding area had been decorated in brains and blood. it was a gruesome sight to say the least, but you suspected that it was a little odd position for a suicide. connor stood next to you, moving in front of the corpse and analyzing her body. connor's on sight forensic analysis proved to be quite effective as it saved a lot time, compared to waiting for forensic reports after you had analyzed the scene. his brow furrowed slightly, as he looked at you (not without sampling the blood of course). the weapon - a glock G19, was located next to her hand, along with a glass of wine.

"that's unusual. the exit wound isn't on the back of the head, instead it's in the front. it's a strange way to shoot yourself," connor examined, turning to you for your opinion. "i don't think this was a suicide. i think it might've been a homicide, but we can't say for sure," you replied to his analysis, before leaving to join nines upstairs. connor watched your retreating figure, before reconstructing a possible scenario.

as you walked up the creaking stairs, you took notice of the door that was slightly ajar in the distance. as you neared it, you realized it was the bathroom. you pushed the door open with a foot, immediately noticing the bloodied corpse of one of the children in the bathtub. the water had been drained, leaving the body in a pool of her own blood. the victim suffered three gunshot wounds, one in her chest, one in her right side and the last one in her forehead.

it was sickening to see, but the more you looked the more things you found. the gunshot wounds weren't the only injuries she had, as there were welts scattered across her legs, and faint burn marks on her wrist. the welts could have come from a belt. the sight immediately reminded you of the hk400, the first case you ever worked on involving an android. a bubble of disgust and guilt boiled in the deep pits of your stomach, but you swallowed it and stood up, only to be startled by connor's unannounced appearance. "jesus, you scared me!" you sighed. "i didn't intend to startle you, detective," connor said reassuringly, with his hand on the small of your back. you ignored the comforting feeling of his hand on your back, and moved to the final room, leaving connor to analyze the second corpse.

nines crouched next to the young boy, who didn't look older than the age of eight. he took a sample of his blood, analyzing his DNA like his predecessor. like his sister, he was shot. but forensic analysis suggested he was strangled before. judging by the purplish hue on his neck, it was evident that he'd been choked. "i reconstructed a possible scenario. it seems that the perpetrator came in through the door, and then proceeded to choke the victim before shooting him four times," nines explained, looking at you as you stared at the bloodied corpse on the floor. the carpet had been stained red, along with a stick figure drawing of the boy and his family. a few crayons surrounding the picture had suffered the same fate as the drawing - stained red and broken.

you noticed that he suffered the same marks, which were obvious indicators of abuse. nines and connor had seen it too, the bruises, the burn marks and the welts. "I think the mother might have been abusing her children. maybe she felt guilty after doing this and decided to take her life," your brows furrowed as you examined the room further, noticing the lack of clothes and toys.

"It's likely, as her fingerprints match the ones on the gun." nines said. connor chimed in, adding to nines' analysis. "however, the exit wound on her forehead indicates that she couldn't have shot herself. if she killed her two children, then who killed her?" your brows only furrowed in confusion as you tried to piece together what had happened. judging from their analysis, she couldn't have ended her life. if the hk200 was a witness, then he was lying, because the mothers death wasn't adding up. the husband was also nowhere to be seen, and the gun she used was registered in his name. there was only one way to make sense of this mess, as it had spiraled into something beyond what the files insinuated.

"hello, my name is detective l/n. what's your name, honey?" connor and nines watched in the observation room as you questioned the hk200. "my name is michael," he replied, fiddling with his hands in his lap. connor's brow arched slightly from the pet name, an unknown feeling erupting in him that could only be described as jealousy. "thank you for being cooperative, i understand you've already given a written statement but we'd like to ask you a few questions." you opened the case file, revealing the images taken of the bodies. he avoided looking at the pictures, and looked at you or around the room. the room was designed to be plain and bland, in order to keep the person under questioning focused and not distracted. this allows for them to rely on the detective for any type of distraction.

"what did you do today, michael?" you started off with easy questions to gain rapport, as answering easier questions would put him at ease and he would be more likely to give you more information. you could always scare them into a confession, but that would only escalate the situation and end in a possible destruction. "i did my usual list of chores," he replied. you nodded, "does this include cooking meals?"

"yes," he confirmed. "can you tell me what their mother does? does she help out, or does she rely on you for taking care of the children?" you noticed as he began to shift in his seat at the mention of her. "she left taking care of the children to me, and she'd spend most days drinking." you nodded, "did you have a good relationship with the children?" he took a little longer to respond, his eyes glossy with a type of pain you'd seen before. a look you wished to never see again. but then again this wasn't about you. "yeah, we did a lot together. drawing, playing games, normal things." he sounded hurt, like he was genuinely affected. you felt for him, reaching across the table to offer a comforting hand to him. he put his hand on top of yours, relaxing a little as he calmed down from your touch.

"was she married?" you had asked, despite knowing the answer. it was a simple test to see if he was lying or not. "yes. her husband would come home late and leave early in the morning, so she wouldn't spend much time with him," he explained. upon hearing this, connor did a quick search and was able to find his workplace. it was possible that the husband had left before the crime happened, and would come home to horrible news. "what time does he leave for work?" you asked, and the android replied rather quickly. "he leaves at 7:00am." by the time you arrived on scene, it had been 9:27am, and if it happened around twenty minutes before you arrived, then the husband would have been long gone, meaning the crime would take place around 9:07am.

you pushed a few images of the injuries on the children, waiting for him to look at them. "since you took care of the children, you probably have noticed these marks on them. do you know who caused them?" he visibly stiffened, eyes trained on the images of the marks and bruises. he then stared at his lap, remaining silent. but the look of guilt on his face was becoming more apparent. "i know you cared about those kids. you looked after them everyday. i can see the pain in your face." his brows started to furrow, before he slammed his fists on the table, startling you slightly. nines and connor were quickly alerted by this behavior, bodies tense and ready for anything to happen. "you don't know anything!" he yelled. "i don't, so tell me the truth," you pressed. he stayed silent again, before admitting it.

"it was the mother. she did it," he confessed. "she'd beat them almost every night. one time i tried to stop her but she said she'd return me to cyberlife if i stepped any further."

"then who killed her?" leaning into the table, you watched as he averted your gaze, "she committed suicide." it was evident he cared for those children, and seeing their abuse would become something he couldn't tolerate any longer. it started to make sense, when you placed him in the same position of the perpetrator from connor's reconstruction, it all made sense. she had downed glasses of wine after murdering her children, michael finally had enough, his heart broken over the deceased children - and so he grabbed her gun, and shot her in the back of the head before placing the gun so it looked like she committed suicide.

it seems that he started to realize that you knew what happened - what he did. "we both know that's not what happened." you stated firmly. he quickly shot up from his seat, lunging across the table to knock you to the ground. your chair tipped back, causing you to fall on your back. he was quick to get on top of you, his hands immediately wrapping themselves around your throat, and his skin peeled back to reveal the white plastic underneath. you kicked, and tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he was too strong. your throat burned as his digits dug into your tender skin, his fingers right above your pulse point. it throbbed wildy underneath his fingertips, only encouraging him to keep his silence.

connor was quickly on top of him, a hand pinning him to the table while michael's hands tried to fight the deadly grip of the rk800. nines quickly pulled you out of the room, and as much as he wanted to deal with the hk200, he knew connor could handle it.

connor didn't say a word, and it terrified the android underneath his palm. he could only stare into the hot rage above him, warnings popping up in his screen warning him of a shutdown. connor had torn out his thirium pump, the tips of his fingers holding onto the pump in his hand. hot blue blood splattered over his fingers and clothing, though that was the least of his worries.

"you're going to talk," connor suddenly said. "you have approximately 120 seconds before you shut down. i suggest that you tell me the truth, otherwise it won't be the other officers you have to worry about. it'll be me." he leaned into his ear, before putting his thirium pump back into place. his forearm pushed him down into the table, preventing him from moving. "i won't tell you." michael sneered. connor said nothing, and immediately grabbed his arm to probe his memory. michael grunted, the sensation feeling like a burn throughout his body as connor searched his memories. that was all the confirmation that he needed.

michael was escorted out, and you found yourself in the bathroom again, splashing cold water onto your face. after all that happened today, you felt like you didn't solve anything. the husband would come home to his entire family gone, and you felt like you couldn't save anyone. this feeling of shame and guilt, you felt partly responsible. it brought you back to the painful memories of the last case, but this time you had connor and nines.

"you should go to a hospital," nines suggested. both of the androids had scanned you again and again, all to make sure that you were alright. "i'm okay nines," you reassured your partner. "nines?" connor joined in, his head turned to look at his replica. "yes, that is the name that was given to me from the detective." nines replied, his eyes locked onto his predecessor. connor ignored nines, and asked if you were really alright. his fingers itched to touch the bruises forming around your neck, but he pushed away the thought and focused on your well-being. "you both don't need to worry. i've been doing this for years," you replied cooly.

fowler had come up to the three of you, his intense gaze locked on you. "you should head home, l/n. we seriously cannot have you getting injured on the job again," he said sternly. connor was about to retaliate, but nines placed his arm in front of him to stop him. they made brief eye contact, communicating silently.

'don't make it worse for her,' nines said. connor ignored him, his eyes locked on yours as captain fowler scolded you while also making sure you're okay. you sighed once he left, running a hand through your hair. "i guess i'll be getting home then," you said to both the androids, noticing that connor looked worried. "let me drive you home, i feel partly responsible for your injury," he said, his hand on the small of your back again. you smiled, trying to mask the way your body responded to his touches. though, you had forgotten that connor wasn't the only one who could read your body, nines could too. his LED circled amber as he scanned you, taking note of how your temperature raised whenever he or connor was around. he bid you goodbye, and watched as you left with connor for the night.

the car ride wasn't awkward at all. one thing that separated connor from nines was the fact that connor spent more time around humans, and he knew how to make conversation easier. the sound of the car engine and rain pattering against the roof put you at ease. detroit could be pretty at night, especially when it was raining like this. "i saw you take care of that android, you can be scary," you laughed. he gave a small smile in response to your laughter, "i didn't mean for you to see that. i apologize if-"

"i'm only teasing you," you nudged his arm with a grin, "it was kind of hot." he cocked a brow, his social relations program helping him differentiate the two meanings of the word. "hot? i don't think cyberlife intended for it to come off that way.." you laughed, missing these conversations with the android. if only hank could supervise academy students forever, and you could have both rk units to yourself. "i'm worried for you detective, it seems that you're putting yourself at risk with these cases. you should be more careful," he looked over at you, his eyes flickering to your injury before returning back to the road. you eyed him as he drove, fighting the smile the threatened to crawl up your face at his concern for your well-being. "thank you connor, but that's kind of my job. i knew what i was getting into when i was training to become a cop. i know the risks, but for you i'll be more careful." it was strange for him, for him to smile without making the conscious effort to do so, for his body to do things that weren't premeditated and forced.

the more you looked at him from your peripheral, the more you saw the differences between him and nines. you never would compare them, but they were so different in personality that it was slightly humorous. sometimes when you looked into connors eyes, you couldn't help but feel like you'd give him everything. his eyes ere so soft, and the only thing you could compare it to were puppy dog eyes, the thought of it making you chuckle, causing the android look over at you. "what's funny, detective?" you shook your head, "oh nothing. i was just thinking about how hard it must be being the most attractive detective alive," you smiled. if he could blush, he definitely would. "it must be an everyday struggle for you then," he replied cheekily.

it wasn't long before he was inside of your house, awkwardly lingering at your front door while you took your shoes off. "you should stay the night, it's raining too hard for you to be going home so late." he nodded, analyzing your home. it was a modern space, decorated with matching furniture but lacking any personalized items like photos. "i'm going to change, i'll be back soon, you can hang out here,"you smiled before disappearing into a different room. he walked over to the kitchen, noticing a pet food bowl, and an orange cat purring as it rubbed it's body on his legs. he crouched down, petting the cat gently. the collar was a light pink, with the name reading 'peaches'.

you returned, only to find him very immersed with petting your cat. you smiled, crouching next to him to pet her. "she seems to like you," you said, fingers accidentally brushing against his as you pet her together. "she's nice, i like dogs and cats." you chuckled, smiling from his pure nature. he was so sweet. "androids don't sleep, do they?" you suddenly asked, after thinking about what he was going to do while you slept. "no, androids don't require things like sleeping or eating. however we do have a 'rest mode' where we temporarily shut down to reserve energy." his eyes were attentive to your exposed skin, as he was used to seeing you in long sleeved tops, and a skirt with stockings. but you were in the comfort of your home, wearing a tank top and shorts. he appreciated the view.

"that makes sense, I think I'd go insane and hallucinate after not sleeping for a couple of days," you replied, moving to the couch where he followed you. he looked cute sitting in your girly living room. his eyes flickered between you and your neck, your tank top revealing more of your neck and chest, which he tried to ignore. "it doesn't hurt if that's what you're worried about," you said, after noticing his LED turn amber a few times. he was analyzing you. "i apologize, i didn't mean to-" you cut him off by shaking your head, placing a hand on his thigh which was impossible to ignore. "that's okay, i know you're concerned. it's sweet connor, I'm thankful for you," you smiled. something fluttered within him, it was the feeling he got when he made amanda happy or accomplishing a mission, just without being literally forced to accept the woman. she was long gone, but that's what he could compare this feeling to. who knows, maybe he just liked being praised. "thank you for being understanding, detective." his thirium pump raced from the sudden contact, his skin warming from the heat of your palm. "please, call me by my name. even in the office. you're my friend," you rested your hand on his shoulder, the urge to just touch him everywhere overwhelming you. "okay, y/n." the sound of your name rolling off his tongue was something that you enjoyed too much.

his eyes were trained on the floor, a pang of guilt welling up inside him from today's events. "i still feel responsible for your injury." you sighed, "connor, it's okay. it's not your fault." your hand moved to his, and you held his hand gently. there it was, that feeling again. he wanted you to hold his hand forever. your thumb brushed over his knuckles, and he gently squeezed your fingers in response. you suddenly got shy, as your eyes avoided his and you slightly warmed from what you were going to ask. "connor?" you asked for his attention, and he'd give it to you, no questions asked. he titled his head slightly, finding it hard to focus when you were holding his hand. it was far more intimate than any other gestures you've given, besides hugs, he might've found a favorite. "what is it det- y/n?" he corrected. "can i hug you?" you smiled shyly at him. it was unusual for you to ask since you'd always just go ahead and hug him (not that he minded), but it seemed like in your personal space and a much more secluded area, you seemed to be more nervous when alone with him. "of course you can, you don't need to ask. is that why you were nervous?" he teased, and you smiled before leaning into him and wrapping your arms around his body. hugging him wasn't what you expected- it was nothing like hugging a mannequin, but it wasn't like hugging a human. he still had the warmth and the softness from his skin, but under that was plastic and metal that made his body feel more firm. almost like how you'd touch flexed muscles, his body was similar to that.

his arms were wrapped around your waist, a little more loosely than yours. he liked the way you smelled, your smell was comforting in a way. as an android, he could register smells, but he didn't experience them in the same way as humans. certain smells are tied to memories, like a home cooked meal reminding you of childhood. yet your scent made him feel a certain way that he couldn't describe, no matter how many times he tried to compute it. it was just a pleasurable feeling. you smelled good all the time, everytime you hugged him he'd smell bright crystal by versace. "i have a question, y/n." he suddenly spoke. you hummed into his shoulder, prompting him to continue. "what makes you so affectionate towards me?" you almost laughed at his question, but it made you stop and think for a second. he could feel your heart race, and he didn't know why, it was a simple question.

"because I like you." you pulled away, looking to see his reaction. "thank you, I like you too. it's a great pleasure to be working with you," he gave a soft smile, not quite understanding what you really meant. you laughed, and shook your head. "I meant I have feelings for you. and it's okay, I don't expect you to return them, but I just want you to know that I've liked you for a really long time now."

his brows furrowed slightly, now understanding what you meant. you were worried, did he like you too? it had been strange for him. to deny his feelings at first, to ignore the increased whir of his thirium pump when you were around, to distract himself from how good your touch made him feel. to try to talk to someone else because he felt the need to be around you all the time. lately he's been more accepting of these feelings, and some of the new urges he's discovered. he's never felt the urge to want to touch someone before, to see you do things that were completely inappropriate. at first, he felt shame for thinking about you that way. but when he came to accept that it was probably normal, it was easier to let loose. his silence made you worry, but he was happier than he's ever been in his entire life. his LED was showing that he was currently processing the information, and he tried to hide how happy he really was. "I have feelings for you too, and I don't think I would've ever admitted them because I was afraid of rejection," he admitted, a soft smile tugging at his pink lips.

him? connor? the deviant hunter was afraid of being rejected by you? it almost made you laugh, because the thought was so bizarre to you. "are you serious? you were afraid?" you teased him back, and he rolled his eyes at your comment. he looked at you, and then your lips. you did the same, hoping that the two of you were sharing the same thought. in an instant, his lips were on yours. it was a completely new sensation to him, since the only thing to touch his lips were his fingers when analyzing DNA, so the feeling of your plush lips against his own was very new. he liked it.

your hand found its way on the side of his neck, and you deepened the kiss by gently pushing him back onto the couch. his LED pulsed a steady blue, even if inside he felt like he was burning up. he'd never felt so hot before, the component that circled cool air into his system working twice as hard to keep him from overheating. your tongue ran across his bottom lip, and he couldn't deny that he really liked that. your tongue then pushed past his pearly whites, and he actually thought he might catch on fire if you keep pushing him like this. his hands ran up the small of your back, and he pulled you into his lap, making you pull away from the kiss momentarily - a string of saliva connecting your mouths. you pulled him back by his tie, your fingers looping around the fabric to loosen it. it started with his tie, then his jacket, and then your fingers were slowly unbuttoning his shirt. he tilted his head back, allowing you to kiss his neck and the middle of his throat, your tongue running down his adams apple.

he was experiencing pure bliss, the feeling of your tongue running against his skin almost burning him from the heat. your kisses started in between his collarbones, and then it led down his sculpted stomach. you were pleasantly surprised by his muscular physique that hid underneath his clothes. through the jacket, you couldn't see much, but now you were able to see how strong he actually was. cyberlife intended for him to be stronger, and in doing so they gave him a lean yet muscular physique in order to be faster and precise. you slowly shifted to your knees, kneeling in between his thighs. you pushed his legs apart, and rested your arms on his thighs, while your fingers played with his belt. his cock strained against his boxers and his jeans as he looked down at you. your palm pressed on his crotch, and he clenched his jaw from the sudden pressure. fuck, you were going to break him.

"shit," he hissed, feeling more of your hand pressing on him through his jeans. it was a first hearing him curse, and fuck did it turn you on. before you continued, you momentarily stopped to ask him if it was okay. he nodded, his breathing becoming heavier as you unbuckled his belt. you pulled his jeans down enough to where his boxers were exposed, and fuck you didn't expect him to be so...big. it was hard to hide your surprise at his size, and you finally knew why he was always in a good mood. he smirked, his head tilting while his hand ran through your hair. you pulled his cock out gently, kissing his tip before wetting the length with your tongue. you made direct eye contact with him while you ran your tongue up the length of his cock. he nearly came just from the sight.

"you're so pretty," you complimented, before taking him in your mouth. the artificial muscles in his thighs clenched from the heat and wetness from your mouth, and he didn't know if he could handle being inside you if your mouth felt this heavenly. he let out soft grunts, making you clench your thighs together. you spit on his pink tip, before swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, your hands working up his length. you took him in your mouth again, your eyes tearing up from his tip hitting your throat as he gently thrusted into your mouth. his breathing became heavier, grunting while his head tipped back. you were surprised to feel his fingers gripping your hair, before you realized that he was holding you in place. he grunted one last time, before cumming into your mouth. unlike humans, his cum didn't have a certain taste as it was artificial, yet there was still something delicious about it, and you practically licked your lips clean.

your knees ached from being on the floor, and you were surprised yet again when he kissed you again, this time more hungry. you kissed back with the same amount of hunger, your lust never ending for the android that was above you. you laid on your couch, watching as he placed his hands on either side of your head. it was his turn to be in-between your thighs, and you whimpered feeling his cock press against the outline of your shorts. "i want you just as bad as you want me," he muttered into the crook of your neck, his lips kissing at your jaw and neck. unfortunately you couldn't bruise android skin, but he could bruise yours easily. his tongue licked at your skin, and he began to suck to leave a hickey. your hands traced the muscles on his back, your palms running up and down the smooth skin. "yeah? prove it," you challenged, watching as he nearly tore your shorts off, leaving you feeling exposed.

he was a little overwhelmed by so many urges at once, the urge to break you and leave you begging for him, or to fuck you until you cry. your back arched as he started to kiss your exposed cleavage, sitting up on his knees to squeeze your boobs. he'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about doing this before. you moaned, watching as he lifted up your tank top and discarded it to the side. he kissed your chest, and you arched your back enough for him to remove your bra. he looked down at you, admiring how pretty you are. "you're prettier," he replied to the comment you made earlier, leaning down to squeeze and play with your boobs. he pushed your hips down from moving up into his, his palms holding you down easily. he decided to do the same, and pressed a thumb against your clothed pussy. you whimpered as he moved his thumb in slow circles, applying the right amount of pressure for you to be arching your back.

"my mouth isn't just for sampling dna, you know," he uttered lowly, his lips pressing against your pussy. you felt so hot, your skin burned from every touch. his hands gripped at your thighs, before moving one of his hands to tear your panties off. he didn't know if he could hold himself back, but for your sake he tried. "oh fuck," you whimpered as he ran a tongue up your slit, brown eyes peering up at you for your reaction. your brows twisted in pleasure, as his tongue began to work magic on you. the tip of his tongue swirled deliciously around your clit, before his lips sealed around you. it didn't take you long until you came on his tongue, his middle and ring finger buried deep into you while his mouth lapped at your clit. your abs clenched, your back arching and your toes curling as you unleash yourself on his mouth.

the moans that spill past your mouth are filthy, filling up the room along with the smell of sex. his fingers shove themselves into your mouth, and you're forced to taste yourself while you look up at the android above you. he looked so hot, his lips were slightly parted and shiny from being in between your thighs. his hair was slightly messy from you tugging on it, which he didn't mind. how his hair looked was the last thing he was thinking about. all he was thinking about was fucking you until you couldn't take it anymore. you lovingly suck on his fingers until his fingers are stripped of your taste, your tongue grazes his knuckles as he pulls them out from your mouth.

"is this your first time?" you asked, your fingers tracing his jaw and running down his chest. "yeah," his short response made you grin, and you pushed him back into the couch, immediately crawling onto his lap. his dick rests against his stomach, and you guide it back to your slit, hovering over him slightly in order to put it in. he looks down at your hand wrapped around his dick, capturing all of this and storing it into a special area that could only be accessed by him. he was definitely going to look at this later. you slowly sink onto his cock, the both of you grunting from the pressure. he seems to be in pure bliss, his head tilting back, his pretty pink lips parted and brows furrowed. if you could take a picture, you would. you gently rock against him, moving your hips slowly in order to not overwhelm him. your hands rest against his chest, and his hands grip onto your hips as you ride him slowly. you lean down and kiss his neck, adding onto the pleasure he was feeling right now. soft gasps and groans slipped out from his mouth uncontrollably, as he started to lose himself in the feeling of you clenched around him. you started to move faster, a pace that only brought the two of you closer to your end. your pussy wrapped around him deliciously, your wetness dripping down and spilling onto his thighs. he wasn't going to let you have all of the control, though.

it might have been his first time, but he sure knew how to fuck like he'd been doing it for years. he suddenly picked you up, with his cock still inside, and pressed you up against the nearest wall. you gasped, legs and arms wrapping around him in fear of being dropped. "don't worry, I'm not gonna drop you," he murmured against your neck, his strong arms holding you up with ease as he started to pound into you. your head titled back as you pushed your hips into him, his inhuman stamina keeping you up in the air, while miraculously being able to hit the spot that made you nearly scream.

"c'mon, take it, i know you can" he encouraged, his cock hitting that spot that made your toes curl. "cum on this dick, i know you want to," he continued, his voice low and demanding as he leaned next to your ear. it was different from how he spoke at the office, with professionalism and respect. but right now, he was fucking you like he had no respect for you, like he hated you. his pace was brutal, filling your pussy up until you couldn't take it. his cock rested heavy inside you, stretching your pussy out in the best way possible. his hand held you by the throat, while his body supported the weight of yours. "oh my god, fuck," you whimpered, your pussy clenching around his cock before you came all over him. he grunted, gasping as his cum poured into you, combining into a mess on your thighs and his own. he thrusted into you a few more times, enjoying the whimpers that slipped past your lips, the way you begged him to stop, the sound of your voice telling him that it was too much. he pulled out gently, cock dragging against the warm walls of your pussy. a new feeling overcame him as he watched his artificial cum drip out your pussy. you returned to your feet, nearly dropping a whole head as he'd been holding you up at eye length. you truly didn't understand how he was able to do so much. goddamn.

"i have no idea how you're able to hold me up like that," you took a second to control your breathing. he smirked, "my stamina and strength were designed to help catch deviants, though I'd say that I prefer fucking you over the mission." you softly gasped, hitting his arm playfully. "I've never heard you curse before," you giggle, doing a little walk of shame to retrieve your clothing. he mimicked your movements, putting his boxers and pants on first, while you lazily threw on your tank top and panties. you stopped him before he could put on his dress shirt. "I don't usually curse when I'm at work, as it's not professional, but we're not at the police department, are we?" he cocked his head, watching curiously as you put on his grey jacket over his bare upper body. "no, we are not," you smile, stepping back to admire your work. "what is the point of wearing a jacket if I'm not wearing anything underneath?" he questioned, watching as you eyed his body. "it's hot," you comment, dragging a hand down his bare stomach, your fingers tracing over his abs. "i look like i work at the eden club," he replied, not very fond of this look. you giggled, pulling him into you for another kiss.

it might have been the first time in a while that you've felt like you were doing something right. whatever you felt with connor, it felt right. he felt the same as you, he felt like having you in his life was something he wouldn't be able to let go. the two of you stayed like this, not putting a label on things yet, and being content with the things way are. you were happy, and so was connor.

though you couldn't deny the slight feelings of desire that you had for his counterpart. you felt guilty for having thoughts about nines. he was your partner. you felt selfish for wanting them both, and you didn't want to have to make a choice with who you wanted to be with, because that wasn't fair. you weren't saying that nines would even have feelings for you, but the mere thought was just enough to make you consider all the possibilities. what you didn't know, was that connor was well aware of the feelings you might have for nines, as well as him. he noticed the looks you gave, the thrum of your heart if he came too close. he didn't know why, but he didn't mind. he didn't mind seeing you look at nines like that, probably because they had the same face. but also because he wanted nines to enjoy you too. he could tell that nines was having the same thoughts, and if only you knew what was going on in his head. the thought of you being used by both of them was exciting. you don't know what's in store, but you know what you're here for.

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AUTHORS NOTE: ur a real one if u get the reference at the end, but I just wanted to say I'm so grateful for all the support that you guys show me ♡ I hope i didnt miss any tags, so pls lmk if i did !! ALSOO i'm so sorry for using y/n. i hate it but i literally don't know what else to put.

#dbh nines #dbh fandom #dbh rk900 #dbh rk800 #dbh connor #dbh #detroit become human #connor x reader #connor x you #connor x y/n #nines x reader #nines rk900 #reader insert #rk900 x reader #rk900 #connor rk900 #fanfic #dbh smut #connor smut

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roxasagainst · 3 months

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oops! all DBH one-shots!

your one-stop shop for all my DBH one-shots (that have too much plot and not enough porn, oh well)

(banner and dividers by @cafekitsune!)

still feel. (RK900/fem!reader)

cw: fingering, alcohol, small ment of violence, kissing, semi-public sex, bodily fluids, rough sex, choking if you squint

You've worked with RK800 for six months now, and three months in, a RK900 walks in. What do you do? Well, let's try a conversation mixed with a subtle invitation. It's almost 3 am, and you're in over your head.

ashes to ashes, dust to...oh fuck (RK800-60/fem!reader)

cw: flirting, banter, just him being a bitch, oral sex (f receiving), office setting

Working as a secretary for the DPD, it's usually pretty easy to have someone else shut the place down so you can leave early. One person, however, isn't leaving without a fight.

one of the girls (RK800-60/fem!reader)

cw: rough sex, office setting, face-fucking, dirty talk, spanking if you squint

You've been in the sugar bowl for a while, been in all sorts of arrangements but an android sugar daddy? You just have to see what this is about.

blackout (RK900/fem!reader) *new!*

cw: lingerie, alcohol mention, fingering, choking, rough sex, interrogation room sex, dirty talk, praise kink

What'd you do to end up in police custody after getting drunk at home? Hey, maybe that guy who walked into the room knows!

#ao3 fanfic #smut #dbh #detroit become human #dbh connor #dbh sixty #dbh nines #rk800 #rk800-60 #rk900 #dbh rk900 #cyberlife tower connor #pwp #connor x reader #nines x reader #sixty x reader #oneshot #pwp fics

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all-gummed-up-inside · 1 year

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Needy puppyboy!Connor who desperately humps your pillow while you’re out of town. he’s a complete mess by the time your 3 day trip is over, but it’s fine your pretty puppy has so much more pent up energy for you <3

Pretty kittyboy!Nines who can just cum from you playing with his fluffy tail for a little bit too long, at times it’s really the only way you can drag him from work so you two can cuddle <3

Bunnyboy!Daniel who desperately fucks himself into your fist because you said it was the only way he could cum after being a brat <3

Bratty foxboy!Gavin who thinks he’s so sneaky when he steals your clothes, thinking you’re so stupid for not realizing when in actuality you’ve been leaving them out in places where he could easily find and take them <3

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fluffykiddosstuff · 1 year

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Their opinion on face sitting (NSFW)

Warnings : sexuals content, face sitting, handjob and many mores

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Markus

- please just sit on this androids face, he would do anything to pleasure you.

- don't mind about sitting on yours but is kind of nervous because androids are heavier so he makes sure he doesn't put all his weight

- doesn't jerk off while eating you out tho, he will just grab your tights to focus to give you pleasure

- buuuut if it's you who is jerking him off then this poor man is gone

- his skin features probably peels off whenever your skin and his touch, even tho you can't interface it's a reflex for his body.

- if you can't stop moaning his name, he will overstimulate you until you can't cum anymore

- your first time while face sitting would be after the androids got their rights, he was still a leader but he had less on his shoulders to carry (except you wink wink)

-after the androids law being accorded he had took you to an hotel, the time he could get some paperworks done before going back to Carl but.. This night wasn't about papers at all

- you took him on the bed because he was stressing himself too much and before you could know it you were already making out in the bed and seconds after he make you sit on his face

- he said it was the better reward for being the android leader

Connor

- this poor Android doesn't understand the need to facesit, he took a while to understand that you wanted proper sex with him but if you don't say verbally that you want to sit on his face he will not initiate it at first

- when you finally said it, he makes researches whenever he can to understand what you mean by that, he tried to ask hank about it first to seem more human but when the poor old lieutenant cough so hard that he couldn't even breath he quickly got that it wasn't the best approach to get more informations

- once he collected enough data he would organize a date (I know androids can't eat but I saw a headcanon where they eat thirium food and I thought it was really cute), after the date would take you at a hotel

- "do whatever you want but not in my house kid" that's what hank said to Connor before he got to your date and after giving money for the hotel "it would be rude to take the people you date to their own house" he said patting connor's head

- once you got into the room you couldn't keep smiling and he took a room with petals on the bed forming a heart and tamised lights too

- first it was like usual, kissing, love words exetera, then he layed down on the bed after undressing you and you sat on his face

- God he didn't imagine how good it could felt for you, would maybe want to try it out but would'nt ask for it before some time

- this tongue isn't just to take samples ;)

- let's say that for the rest of the night you didn't slept

Ralph

- at first the poor boy didn't even knew what you were talking about

- sex? Face sitting? What's all of that?

- but once you explained everything calmly to him and that he got that it wasn't hurtful for any of you he accepted

- first you got to your house because doing that at the squat was.. Weird

- you just begin with little kisses on his face and scars but before you could see it, he rolled over and make you sit on his face after ripping whatever clothes was between his mouth and his goal

- you didn't knew a such precious being could be so wild but you didn't mind tho

- would ask if you could do the same for him because he wanted to know how could it feels since he saw how you were excited

- "Ralph likes y/n like this.. He wants to know how it feels too!"

- now it's one of Ralph's favorite activities to do with you

Hank

- you were dating with hank for a little while and you hesitated to ask him if you could practice facesitting and that he would say "Jesus y/n I'm too old for these things!"

- but when you actually asked him about it, it was an another story

- if you asked him in a public space he would murmur in your ear "tonight at my house, Connor will be at Markus place" or if you are both home and that Connor is gone for the day he would say : "c'mere" and start doing the job

- he is quite experienced, he was married after all

- you would probably have red tights because of the friction of his beard but you don't mind, he finds that quite erotic too

- don't ask him that he sits on your face tho, he doesn't like that

- one or two round is enough, after all he is human and old, yes he likes it but he doesn't want to get killed by you sitting on his face (even tho he says while laughing that it could be nice to die this way)

-since of his age, he can't do things like he could when he was in his 20's so facesitting is one of his favorite things because he knows that he can handle it and make you feel good at the same time

Gavin

-wow wow wow wow hold there a second

-what are you asking ?

-would'nt be for it at first maybe says things like "na it's for pussy's anyways i like my way of holding things better"

-buuuut if you insist..he would consider it

-but don't talk to anyone about this, no matter how much he loves you he's gonna kill you if you don't shut your mouth

-actually is pretty aroused when he ears you whimper on top of him, he could cum only from that

-but don't ever tease him about that because either he will make you sexually frustrated for who knows how long or would have to punish you somehow

-if one day, ONE SINGLE DAY, he let's you eat him while he is sitting on your face, told yourself your lucky

simon

-would be so glad that you ask him directly, to him that means a lot and plus it's a sign of affection so why not ?

-man he is so sweet please just praise him already

-wouldn't mind to try, but if he doesn't like it he will tell you

-would be scared when you start to tremble because of overstimulation, but once you reassure him that it's all about pleasure, he is glued to you for some time

-caresses and soft words are his love language so he will most likely caress your tights and anything that reaches his hands

-he looks at you like your some sort of divinity while having you on his face, please don't stop him

nines

-like connor pretty confused about anything sex-like (like he doesn't know yet how to initiate it), but he would get the little hints you give him

-doesn't ask anything to anyone, he doesn't need it, he is cyberlife most avanced android right ?

-many, too many researches (even at work or at night)

-he wants you to be bold with him and sincere so don't be afraid to tell him exactly what you want (if you come with a plan or a kamasutra to show him how is facesitting, would register everything in his cpu)

-wouldn't sit on you, he isn't comfortable with that yet ( at first he says that he is made to help humans and not to be pleased)

-would close his eyes during the "processus" likes he calls it,he is deviant but that serious part of him is what attracted him to you after all

- doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy it tho, every sounds, moves, spots and picture he register of you is in his cpu and whenever he is bored and want to try new things (like masturbation) or maybe just because he wants to see how marvelous you are, he will read those files

-would maybe try to tease you (i sais try, doesn't mean he is good at it) and would continue or not, depends on your reaction

-leaves marks and bruises on your legs and stomach

kamski

-FUCKING FINALLY

-he was waiting his whole life that you ask him for that

-prepared everything in advance

-if you put lingerie or anything sexy on, oh god have mercy he will not leave you for a while

-doesn't mind receive but likes more giving

-could keep on for hours, he can't get enough of you really

-he saw you as a masterpiece, so he is honored to as you on his face

-but before or after, would ask if he can take snapshots of you and both of you, he is the creator of androids but he like these old techniques and he thinks you both look like gods from ancient greece

-he keepts these snapshots on him every single time and when he as to go for something, brings them with him to remember how much fun you will both have when he gets home

-makes you a bath and ask chloe for diner,pampers you, don't want to leave you until you are asleep

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sirahegao · 8 months

Text

Masterlist

***WARNING: ALL MY STORIES CONTAIN MATURE CONTENT! MDI 18+

*** ao3 profile

Demon Slayer

Just a one-night stand? (Sanemi x f!reader)

Tension (Rengoku x f!Reader x Sanemi)

Tension Part 2

Tension Part 3

I thought you were a gentleman, professor...

Wet Dreams (Rengoku x f!Reader)

Detroit Become Human

Selfless (Connor x f!Reader)

Selfless Part 2

Entombed (Nines x f!Reader)

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honey-beann · 1 year

Note

Plz let us read the nines fic I am begging u

well if you're gonna beg for it, who am I to deny you?

I'll try and get it posted later tonight lol

#c: nines #rk900 x reader #rk900 smut #dbh smut #ask #do i post it?#upcoming... upcumming?

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samsaurwrites · 2 years

Text

HAPPY 100 FOLLOWERS!!!! Slow Down (RK900 x Reader NSFW Oneshot)

A/N: hehehehe we're at 100 followers now so i thought—hey, let's celebrate by posting something ~ s p i c y ~

Slow Down (Nines x fem!Reader)

Nines is acting weird.

You decide to figure out why.

Tags: Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Is Bad at Feelings, Sex Pollen (but like a virus), idk don't question it too much, Smut, Shameless Smut, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Overstimulation, Reader-Insert, No Y/N, Semi-Public Sex

Read here or on AO3.

Something about Nines has been… off since you left the crime scene together—a WR400, ripped to pieces, in the slums of Detroit; her joints wrenched apart, wires twisted and torn; components, dozens of them—broken, modified, scattered the floorboards of an old, rotting house; thirium, pooling underneath, splattering the walls in grotesquely abstract shapes and patterns.

It had been hard to look at.

You had suggested interfacing with her—it had seemed like a good idea, at the time. You figured maybe, if there was any latent information floating around in her CPU, maybe Nines could find it.

Maybe it would help you find who did this to her.

It could be the best lead you were going to get, you’d said. And he had agreed.

But maybe that had been a mistake.

You glance over at him from the passenger seat of your car, worrying the inside of your lip between your teeth as you scan his profile.

It’s dark—nearly midnight—but the intermittent light from the passing streetlamps is more than enough to see the tension in his shoulders, the way he sits ramrod straight, fingers digging into the surface of your steering wheel. It’s more than enough to see how his his brows furrow. How they’re knitted together into a deep scowl.

He stares ahead, ignores you even though you know he knows you’re watching him, watching the LED at his temple flicker a dull yellow, cycling around and around and around. You look back down at your hands, resting awkwardly on your lap. Take a moment to pick at the non-existent dirt underneath your nails.

The moment he’d touched her—artificial skin retracted, revealing smooth white plastic and unfeeling steel—he’d recoiled, like he’d been burned.

And he’s been acting so weird since.

You clear your throat. “Hey, uh, are you—”

“I’m fine, Detective,” he says. Snaps, really.

“Right,” you murmur, shifting in your seat. You turn your head to stare out the window. Lean your forehead against the glass and let out a quiet sigh, watching as Detroit slides by in gloomy twilight, blurred by rain that streaks across the window.

You try not to think too hard about the way he’d jerked away from you when you touched his shoulder; how he’d flinched when you handed him your keys and just barely brushed his open palm.

The rest of the drive passes in stiff silence, and by the time you make it back, the station is nearly deserted, with only a few bleary-eyed humans and a handful of androids wandering the premises.

Nines is careful not to touch you when he drops your keys back into your hand. Ignores the concerned look you give him and strides towards his desk. You follow, trail after him and sag down into the squeaky swivel chair at your desk.

You chance another glance over at him, across your connected desks. You lean forward on your elbows, watching his LED, a steady amber that flashes red when your gazes meet. Just as you open your mouth to speak, he stands.

“Excuse me,” he says, swallowing thickly.

And then he’s gone.

You chew at your bottom lip again, watch him leave the bullpen and turn down the hall that leads towards the server room. You let out a frustrated breath, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes.

“Motherfucker,” you whisper under your breath.

The guilt gnawing at you starts to grow. It flowers in the empty spaces between your ribs—it sprouts tendrils that wrap around your lungs, thorns that dig into your thudding heart.

It had been your idea, after all.

Maybe you should go apologize.

You shake your head—you should just finish your paperwork and give the android some space, especially if he’s upset with you. You should just give up trying to understand the innerworkings of CyberLife’s most advanced prototype (he’s made it abundantly clear that you’ve failed at that particular endeavor so far). You should just mind your own goddamn business and go home.

But here you are. Standing up, pushing away from your desk to follow after him.

You shove your hands in your pockets as you round the corner. Try to act nonchalant as possible while you walk down the empty hallway and up to the server room door. It’s dark when you get there, which is—admittedly—a little odd, but you don’t think too hard about it, pushing inside before you lose your nerve.

It’s quiet. Really, really quiet. And real fucking cold, too.

You start walking down the center aisle, glancing up and down the rows of blinking servers as you pass them.

“Nines?” you call. “You in here?”

Something sends a shiver down your spine.

“I, uh… I know you said you’re okay,” you ramble, wandering over to a metal table hidden in the back corner of the room, playing idly with one of the spare cables coiled on top, “but I feel like you’re angry at me or something so—”

You’re pushed up against the wall, hard. Fast.

Panic seizes your throat. You fumble for the empty holster at your belt, then recognize the black and white jacket, the steely eyes glaring down into yours.

“Nines, what the fuck,” you hiss, planting your hands on his chest to push him off of you. “You scared the shit out of me.”

You shove as hard as you can, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t even budge.

“…Nines?”

His shoulders are heaving. LED pulsing a bright, angry red. “You need to leave.”

His words are sharp, rough, and it sends a jolt of fear through you.

“Okay, sure, just—” your voice shakes. You start to notice the heat bleeding through the fabric of his uniform. “A-are you overheating or something?” you mutter. “You’re—”

You barely choke back a yelp as he grabs your jaw with one hand.

He stares down at you. Forces your head back until you can’t do anything but stare back at him, can’t do anything but bare your throat and melt in pools of molten silver. You blink—absolutely dumbstruck.

Your heart hammers inside your chest, so hard, so frantic, you’re afraid it might burst. Your face flushes—you know he can hear it, know he can feel it, the way your body responds to his—and suddenly, it’s way too fucking hot in here.

He leans down, keeps you against the wall with fingers that burn against your skin. You feel his breath ghosting across your skin, feel his other hand digging into your waist.

You don’t know what to do—don’t know what the fuck is happening.

He mouths at your collarbone and you jolt, fingers flexing in the soft fabric of his shirt. He dips his tongue into the hollow of your throat, traces its shape and hums as he catalogues the taste of your skin. The whimper falls from your mouth before you can stop it.

“Nines-”

And then he’s kissing you. Crushing his mouth to yours.

You struggle to keep up, pressed further into the wall by the intensity, the heat of him. He bites down on your lower lip, so fucking hard it breaks the skin and you taste blood—whimper and moan and let his tongue dip into your mouth and tangle with yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, twist your fingers in his perfect hair and swallow down every perfect throaty groan he gives you. You arch your back. Press up into his torso, his hips, the hardness you feel against your stomach.

He grabs the backs of your thighs, lifts you up so you can wrap your legs around his waist, and kisses you harder, shoves his tongue so fucking far into your mouth you almost choke on it. He ruts against your clothed core, and the friction, the pressure against your clit—fuck—it makes your eyes roll back.

He carries you over to the metal table, drops you down onto its surface and manhandles you onto your stomach. Drags your pants—your underwear—down just far enough to expose your dripping sex.

“N-Nines!” you yelp, pushing up onto your elbows just to be shoved back down flat, his hand planted firmly between your shoulder blades. You hear him unbuckle his belt, hear him yank his zipper down. “Hold on—”

“Can’t—” he grunts, dragging the fat head of his cock up and down your folds. Your hear lurches, and your hips jerk backwards—you can’t help it.

He sinks into you fast. Filling you so suddenly, so full you feel it in your throat.

You cry out—the stretch, the burn—loud and long and broken off by the hand that clamps around your mouth. That pulls you back to meet his thrusts.

“Quiet,” he hisses. He grabs your hip with his other hand, shifts them so he can hit you deeper, so that he can hit that spongey spot inside you that has you weeping, begging him, muffled by his fingers, to give you more.

White-hot pleasure sears in your center, electric. It pulses harder, as his hips snap into yours, coils tighter with each drag of his head against your walls. You whimper and whine, thrust backwards because you want more—need it.

Your whole body tenses, then fucking shatters—clamping down around his cock.

He pounds into you, fucking relentless. Again and again and again. You splutter nonsense, tears rolling down your cheeks, seeping between his fingers. Begging for him to stop—to go harder. His hips stutter, and he groans, voice staticky and distorted and so fucking hot, pumping you full of his artificial release.

Before you can even begin to catch your breath, before you can really register that he’s let go of your mouth, he flips you over onto your back. Yanks your pants off entirely and grabs your legs, pressing them back flat against the table by the backs of your knees—wide fucking open.

“Fuck, N-Nines,” you whimper, hands splayed out against his abdomen. “Slow down, I-I can’t—”

He drives into you again before you can say anything else. Kisses you deep. Hard. Sucks your tongue into his mouth while he fucks you into the table. Swallows the needy moans, the pathetic, broken whimpers that fall from your mouth.

The stretch. The drag. It’s too much. The way he holds you down. The way he makes you take it. The way pleasure—exhilarating, excruciating—builds and builds and builds; the way it crashes into you and you see white.

He’s filling you again. Painting your insides. Fucking the cum that leaks out back into your abused hole, rolling his hips up into yours. You push on his chest, thrash and writhe underneath him.

He pulls out, pumping into his fist, and cums again—splattering your stomach in artificial release.

The room descends into a fragile stillness. You lay, staring at the ceiling, panting.

“Are you alright, Detective?” he asks eventually, and you manage a weak nod.

“I…” he trails off, tucking himself back into his jeans and righting his jacket. “I apologize, Detective. The interface with the Traci… It… Something happened.”

“Mm?”

He clears his throat. “However, that seems to have… Have cleared the error from my systems.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, nodding again. “Just, uh… Just let me know if you ever need to defrag your hard drive or… or empty your junk mail or something. I’d be, ya know… willing to help out.”

He shoots you an unappreciative glare.

“You should get dressed,” he says.

“Yeah, yeah I will,” you say. “I just need a second. Can’t really feel my legs yet.”

He looks away, but you can feel the smug look on his face.

You can’t really find it in yourself to care though.

Thanks for reading!! Consider giving it a ❤️ and a 🔁 if you enjoyed.

You can check out my other writing here.

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cyberllfe · 11 months

Note

I spun the wheel o' doom and got...500 words. YES. In 500 words, perhaps you might describe Nines and Reader on a stakeout. The tension has been ratcheting up between them, and it suddenly breaks...but can they also keep their eyes on the (criminal) prize?

one RK900, packed into his little to-go container. he's only a little spicy. 😏✨ 500 words, rated M.

want a turn? prompt me.

“Is that them?”

“No.”

You sneak a glance at him, but he catches you looking. “And you’re avoiding the question. Are you embarrassed?”

Faking exasperation, you go back to scanning the windows and doors for light and signs of movement.

“I’m fine. It’s just getting warm in here.”

Nines leans marginally closer and for a moment you fool yourself that he’s aiming for a better view of the building.

“The temperature has been stable for the past thirty-six minutes.” You spear him with an annoyed look, undercut by the heat in your cheeks. He’s almost certainly able to spot it; you’re probably glowing in the dark in his vision.

This time when he leans closer, he holds your gaze. You hold your breath. His eyes reflect the distant streetlights as he studies your expression.

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching the building, Nines?”

“I am more than capable of multitasking.” His eyes travel down your face without shame. He’s trying to unnerve you on purpose—of course he’d wait until you were confined somewhere intimate to interrogate you. “Explain for me.”

Where you sit, leaned forward in the front passenger seat, you have a perfect view of the old apartment complex. Nines encroaches a little every time you refuse to answer a question; your space shrinks.

“I think we should focus on the case.”

You’re slowly dragging your gaze across the dark, empty windows when Nines’ fingers grab your jaw and turn you back to face him.

“I think you should focus on me.”

He’s no closer than before, but he’s looming in your view, broad and imposing without even having to move. Your breath has caught, your mind occupied solely with the firm press of his fingertips and the intensity of his attention.

“When you told Officer Chen you knew exactly what you’d do for me, what did you mean, detective?”

“Whatever she told you is an exaggeration,” you breathe, willing your heartbeat to slow. “You know what she’s like, she—”

“I heard you myself.”

“Oh fuck, I—”

“Is that what you had in mind?”

His thumb moves to brush the fullest part of your lips, fingers curling under your chin to tilt it towards him. He’s frustrating, he’s arrogant, but more annoying than that is he’s right.

No fucking way you let him have the last word.

“Put your seat back.”

You’ve lowered your voice and thrown every ounce of confidence you have into it as you stare him down. There’s the faintest curve to his mouth when he watches you, presuming defiance.

“Feeling confined, detective?”

As best you can with his fingers holding your face, you shake your head.

“No.” You take a breath and lean closer, your rush of bravery fuelled by adrenaline. “You want to multitask? Push your chair back. I’ll show you what I had in mind.”

A flash in the window.

Nines’ irritated grunt is sweeter than music, but he doesn’t let go.

“I’ll get my demonstration eventually.”

You grin wide.

“Yes, sir.”

#misc: flash fic #prompt me #ch: nines rk900 #nines x reader #dbh nines x reader #misc: fan works #asks #shinyportalsandthings #as always thank you for enabling me #😏#side note: I had a smut version of this prompt but something about it Did Not Fit. I'm going to have to do some practice with v short smut #for now. my second love: tension #which is to say... I just love teasing you 😏

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paleepeaches · 4 months

Text

I’M SENSITIVE YOU KNOW (PREVIEW)

Warnings: MDI, mature content, 18+, filthy disgusting smut,

Tags: Connor RK800 x Fem Reader

A/N: THIS IS A PREVIEW 🎀

TELL ME IF YOU LIKE IT PLS I CRAVE VALIDATION AND PRAISE

You were a festive person. Always have and always will be. Valentines was your favorite holiday not only because of the pink and red strewn across supermarkets and stores but because it was a day of love. A reason to celebrate you and Connor’s union. You were sentimental. Sensitive and a bit of a sappy girl when it came to things like that. Connor was fully aware of it. In fact he made note of it when you first got together. How you pouted up at him. Your bottom lip jutting out slightly covered in your lipgloss. How when things didn’t go your way your pretty doe eyes would water with tears and coat your spiky lashes. It was an adorable sight to see you so whiney and needy all the time. Especially when it came to him. You’d pout everytime he had to leave to the DPD every morning. Today was no different.

“Do you have to go?” You fluttered you lashes up at him.

Connor turned his head to look at you while he did his tie. His hands skilfully mastering it. He felt his resolve waver seeing you so like that. You’d just gotten up. Hair was a bit messy, eyes a bit tired but what you wore really got him. It was the babydoll nightdress. Baby pink in color and the cups on it hugged your tits so nicely. It was sheer and cut off at the top of your plush thighs. He had to resist throwing you on the bed and just fucking your brains out. Poor baby girl didn’t know what you were doing to him.

“I have to. Hank needs me for another case. Plus who’s gonna make enough money to take care of you?” He cooed down at you with his signature smirk.

He huffed out a sigh nodding in understanding. “Okay but are you gonna be home in time to celebrate? I planned a dinner and everything.”

Full fic

#connor rk800 #connor dbh #connor rk800 x reader #detroit rk800 #detroit become human rk800 #dbh nines #nines rk900 #rk900 x rk800 #rk900 #ddlgprincess #connor x reader smut #connor dbh smut #dbh connor smut #dbh fanfic #dbh connor #connor dbh x reader

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blurredout10 · 1 year

Text

This Is Not A Date

Upgraded Connor (RK900) | Nines/ Reader fanfic

Rating: Mature

Wordcount: 5560

Tags: Friends to Lovers, Intimacy, emotionally curious nines, groping, smut, p in v sex, rough, kinda soft kinda not lil boi

Link to AO3 here or continue below cut:

You envied him, really.

Holding down a forefinger, the imprint fogging your phone screen, the victim of your poking quite literally quivered under your fingertips; a damn bloody dating app. Its cornered ‘x’ be the only good idea it gave you since its offered romantic prospects surely weren’t.

It shakes a violent plead of mercy, like the castle clown prancing joyously, a jingle bell on its neck collar shaking its head desperate no’s where you snapped two fingers for its forthcoming executions. Disappointing. As per usual.

But punishing the joker meant nothing if its replacement came from the same circus. You downloaded another app, pinky peach hearts pictured on a mobile symbol, your expectations had sunk passed the depths of hell.

You were no less given the attention, a text ping except for a joker's bell. Despite Detroit’s ever-growing gene pool with the doubling population of both humans and androids, your huddle of situationships barely satisfied you, lacking a spark you so craved. Matches appeased your eyes, descriptions void of icky pick-up lines, but with every other text you were sent, something scrunched up your face worse than the last.

“Why are people so boring?” you vented to the brioche-scented air, very much aware that fine-tuned android ears had spaced out. You’d grown to suffer alone.

He didn’t have to worry about bearing the weight of carried conversations, he was perfect. Bloody hell looked it too.

Nines envied you equally, but for the opposite reasons.

There hadn’t been a day's rest of his HUD, notifications running haywire like sugar-induced children running laps in a playground. But even little humans collapsed in exhaustion — you did a lot of that — and energy was spent, Nines’ string of leeching matches never tired.

“How tall are you?”

“Glad we matched! My place or yours?”

“How big did they make you?”

“Boring indeed,” silencing the utter mess of thirsty texts, he turned his attention back onto you, a croissant half-stuffed in a stun where you hadn’t expected an answer. Flakes stuck to your lip as you chewed, fluttering eyelashes moaning for you at the fill of French delectables. Your reactions amused him. People were boring, indeed.

You, however, were quite interesting.

Many months of a developed friendship had the both of you puzzlingly closer. Intending to better work efficiency, Nines fed into your friendly advances, but he hadn’t expected to actually enjoy your company. You two had clicked like polar forces, self-fashioned laws of physics in your own little world together.

Nines, surprisingly, was a pretty handsome wall to talk to. You enjoyed every little teenage-like whisper of gossip you shared, to which the android’s sharp ears picked up on the latest in the DPD. You’d grown accustomed to his partially stiff persona as he did to your free-spirited one. The moon to your sun, and he surely brightened in your gifted happiness. Kindred souls hand-in-hand, shoulder-to-shoulder, you were there for him, and he was there for you.

Nines scoffed at deleting another chat thread with a persistent match mate.

It started as a joke. ‘I can get more bitches than you,’ though you knew you were speaking out of your ass. You did not, dare you say could not get more bitches than a man who mastered being a man, despite being made plastic and steel.

Eyes blue like arctic winds, soft but intimidatingly focused in burning through flesh, his face sculpted unfairly to turn heads his way. Broad shoulders and a narrow waist that looked good in anything, even you could admit that. You were no stranger to getting asked about his romantic status.

The sheer size of him shifted uncomfortably in the little bakery’s equally little seats, shoulders swallowing the back of his chair as if his steel spine served a replacement. Discomfort, albeit making him stir again to lean forward with a frustrating twitch of brows, was still foreign to him; a bitterness that squirmed deep in his chassis. It had taken a while to identify and label the feeling.

Experience was the tutor in the study of emotional understanding. Experience was his guide to an emotionally coloured world and discomfort was by far the dullest, sluggish and unattractive hue he’d come across.

Nines heard an audible moan deep from your chest, satisfaction making you lick buttered fingers clean. Your palate cleansed except for pastry bits on your plate, following a trail to your lap, above your chest and still on your bottom lip. You, however, were that bit of colour that sagged his shoulders, the bit of colour that made him agree to silently accompany your weekly brunch ravishment.

His chest shook in a chuckle at seeing you no less a mammal in its habitat, wild and careless, waving away thrown looks at your poor table etiquettes. Hair frenzied in a mess, your posture slouched as if you owned the ground around you, you had a flair of contentment with everything you did. Interesting human, indeed.

“I wasn’t aware wearing your afternoon brunch was socially acceptable,” he quipped and your eyes widened, patting hands rubbing away crumbs that doubled his laughter. Croissant bits projectile in his direction, ultimately landing on the table and his lap.

Your phone announced itself, a text ping waking up your screen with the surprising icon of a newly downloaded dating app. Flat on the table, Nines perked in out of curiosity. Your spread grin was better at drawing his attention.

It could only mean one thing.

“I’ve got a date on Friday.”

-.—.-

It just happened.

Somehow in some weirdly fated way, you and Nines had your dates aligned. When you’d dress up for a dinner evening, he’d be suited up for one couple of roads down. The forgotten competition falling into a routine of complimenting each other’s outfits, you pointlessly fixing his collar and escorting either into another’s hands.

As expected, you’d gasp at the sight of his fitted dress shirt, threaded buttons pulled taunt to the rise and fall of his chest. Bigger biceps smoothed into the arms of his blazer, an icy pair of eyes that’d drop anyone to their knees; you watched appreciatively, blessing your eyes with what his dates would be so lucky to sit across.

Dang, he looked good. Who needed dinner if desert sat inches away?

And he’d eye you similarly, following the curves and dips of your dresses, a taunting hug of fabric an extension of your skin leaving little to the imagination, not that he had any. Loose silk that hung low, embraced your thighs just right, it was enough to have you smiling at your reflection. You liked to look like this, beautifully sexy, earning heart eyes from victims you’d never contact again.

Nines was effortlessly attractive, but you sure believed you were too, and confidence was already half the charm. There was a reason your dating race lingered neck-and-neck, people wanted him and people wanted you.

Still, you didn’t understand why serial dating was so damn hard.

Nines excused his admiring as a friendly reciprocal to yours and then you interlinked arms, trotting in pretty shoes to leave some date awestruck.

Struck, definitely, so much so they didn’t show.

“Fucking flunked on me,” all of your hours getting ready wasted for nothing. A dangling table light held you in spotlight, the universe laughing at your misery. The waiter dared to make a brief visit, scurrying away when you shot daggers, Phone glued to your ear, you lined a fork with distracted fingers, “I went through all that effort, for what?”

“He dodged a bullet,” Nines teased, a smirk leaking into your speakers. You groaned annoyingly, a tad bit hurt though you’d never mention it. Nines only chuckled, “are you not hungry?”

“Of course, I am,” your volume had diners eavesdropping, you lowered it, “but I’m not gonna sit here and eat alone like some… loner .”

An elderly woman leaned into your line of sight, doing little to mask her judgement.

“It’s embarrassing,” you sighed, straightening up subconsciously. Nines remained silent, a little something nagged you, “tell me you have better luck than me.”

He did. Unlike you, Nines was glad his date didn’t show.

“Unfortunately, detective, I have been cancelled on too.”

“No. Way.”

So, obviously, the next step pretty much carved itself out. You were both in need of a nice dinner, dressed to impress, and without your respective dates. Nines took no longer than necessary to join you, filling in the void of an empty seat as you did for him.

This happened again, from your silk dress to a casual getup, and again, from fancy dining to amusement parks. From black tie gallery visits to turtleneck picnic dates. You found it harder to believe Nines was getting cancelled on when he kept miraculously showing up.

It wasn’t a date, even if it always looked like it and you’d get ready as such. Painted lips smiled at him rather than some other guy, and neither of you was complaining about it.

Upon reaching the front of the queue to an ice cream cart, did someone first state the obvious.

“Here’s one for you and a drink for your partner.”

You stilled, “oh, we’re not- he’s not-"

“Thank you,” Nines took your waffle cone, giving it a tasteful lick before handing it to you. He walked away before you could protest.

“What was that?” You fell behind his longer strides struggling, Nines always found it amusing.

“What was what?” Pale flickers of his eyes were a tell of his naivety, “are we not partners?”

Work ones, sure. “Pretty sure she was calling you my date.”

For his advanced prototype kinks, he hadn’t preconstructed that theory. It was his turn to freeze, the ice of his irises solidifying the rest of his body, the only tell that he hadn’t fallen stasis being an amber spin on his temple. His abrupt halt had you bumping into his back with a grunt.

Though your complaints died into laughter at seeing him so… off guard.

“It’s not so bad,” you nudged him, elbow meeting his midriff, its proximity to his thirium pump regulator pulled a heavy huff through his voice. You winked, “you’d be lucky to score with me.”

Park attendees walked in their chatter, dogs let off their leashes, rolling in the glass with both furry flesh and synthetic plastic alike. Families shared inside jokes, children playfully screaming on the lake’s perimeter. Information coded everywhere in his scans, the broken grid of his deviancy reminding him of his freedom.

But he grew overwhelmed around you.

The past few mutual flunks hadn’t exactly been… mutual. The moment you’d text him your date was boring, or the guy left you hanging again, he’d be the one to disappear mid-mingling and scurry away to accompany you. Surely, that’s what it meant to be a good friend, right?

He wasn’t looking to replace your flings. He just merely wanted to be there for you. Be a light of colour as you had been for him so many times before.

Nines blinked erratically, warning ambers giving him away.

“Jeez, I’m not that bad,” you joked but he caught wrinkled brows of concern, following another lighter playful nudge on his arm. The contact teetered on the edge of overwhelming his processors.

Neither of you talked about it.

On came another Friday evening, a ping reminding you of a ‘Tomas’ looking forward to seeing you. Your dressing table mirror applauded the artistry of makeup whilst you merrily shoed up, throwing a text back via that dating app 2.0.

“I’m so sorry! Can we reschedule?”

“No show again,” you sighed, lying out of your ass, “how’s that android with the green hair doing for you?”

“I’m afraid she does not feel interested anymore,” also a lie, Nines had pretty much blocked the persistent woman.

Getting comfortable in the back row of your local cinema, which was supposed to be Nines escapade for the day, he passed you a popcorn bag, one he’d already bought for you. Lights dimmed at the title screen, Nines sneaked a glance at you, silently admiring the palette of your makeup. Nines liked it when you played with pigments, orange and purples finely painted on eyelids, bringing out the colour of your eyes. It pleasantly stimulated him.

“What?” Curving in a half-smile, you caught his ogling.

“You look lovely, detective,” it was pretty much routine at this point, to compliment you. Though this time, the air hung heavier, the smile never making it to his lips, his thirium pump straining for a beat when your vitals jolted the slightest.

He said it so sincerely; why did he sound so different? Your retort wasn’t given voice, a prickle of shivers meeting your extremities in a blush, you were glad the darkness covered for you.

You swallowed down. He cleared his throat. The movie went on. But the heat of your body, the subconscious leaning on his arm, close enough he could decode the product in your hair, the movie wasn’t plenty distraction.

And as if rA9 evilly taunted him, a couple cornered in the cinema audibly moaned, latched onto each like horny teenagers. You bobbed your brows at him, ‘kids these days’, but your skin grew hotter, ultimately arising a glitch or two in his system.

“The movie was great,” you gulped a smile when he walked you home, kicking lone rocks, eyes weighed to the pavement, “I guess, I’ll- I’ll see you.”

“Yes-,” he spoke too quickly, nodding, “I wish you a good night, detective.”

You blinked, “you too. Goodnight to you too.”

“Thank you.” His feet shuffled, “I shall go now.”

“Get home safe, alright? Goodnight, Nines.”

“Take care, detective.”

Awkward couldn’t even begin to describe it.

-.—.-

The competition was long gone, dating threads snipped weeks ago when you decided to delete the apps once and for all. Nines had pulled from the single scene even before you did, gulping down excuses as to why he decided to bail on all his prospects.

“No, we’re friends,” you’d say. Friends that helped each other down a couple drinks. Friends that slow-danced at New Jericho’s fancy dress party, to which Connor had invited you both. Friends that publicly teased each other with a flutter of eyelashes and hot heavy breaths.

“Since when were you two dating?”

“This is not a date!”

Said you at a party where Nines was your plus one, glued to your side like your extension.

It was getting ridiculous.

Eventually, neither of you spoke about seeing other people, just assuming the other would turn up. On paper, and even in person, you both looked pretty stupid in denial.

But one night, clinking afters with your department crew, did the dusted line between friendship and something more sharpen, something that made sense in the entanglement of your not-dates with Nines.

Officer Wesley was clear in the intention to woo you and have you in bed, playfully raking his gaze and hissing out a compliment. He leaned in closer, elbow atop the bar front with a daring smile. Admittedly, you missed the thrill of being a tease, slipping your tongue out to wrap around the straw but not enough to give him a show. Wesley caught on your game, and for the officer he was, he’d happily play cat and mouse.

But this time, things felt different and flirting with the dirty-blonde man felt wrong. Flirting with anyone felt wrong. And you couldn’t understand why.

You flickered in the RK900’s direction, only to find him already watching Wesley talk you up at the bar. A heartbeat thumped particularly loudly when he held your eye contact, leaning back in his booth whilst tonguing his straw similarly to how you had done it.

Fucking hell.

“So, how about that drink?” The officer reminded, thumbing at the display of bottles behind the counter.

Holy shit. You didn’t want to be like every other victim to the reeling of those darkened blue eyes, you weren’t like that.

With a double take, you caught that damn triumph smirk on his face, as if he could see exactly what that tongue did to you, being on the receiving end of it. Fuck him, you wouldn’t let him win.

Nines’ smirk faded as soon as you gave the officer your undivided attention, edging your barstool. Your touch crawling up his arm, soft lips leaning closer to his ear and speaking just out of earshot. It had the android inexplicably grinding teeth.

That was another thing about deviancy it had taken him a while to calibrate; urges. The urge to partake in conversation, or flee from it even, the urge to tease you to the point your cheeks were coloured tomatoes. It was this urge that had an added darkness looming over you, two icicles boring into the back of your head.

Sixth sense tied a thick knot in your throat.

Wesley cleared his throat too, sitting up straighter, “Nines, you ah - you good?”

The android didn’t look it, stalking over your shoulder like he’d no less bite into your neck and suck you dry in one go. But if this officer be a conquest you wanted to take to home, Nines would personally help you put on a show.

That’s what good friends did, right? Help each other?

He slitted fingers between chunks of your hair, pulling your head aside abruptly, the contact freezing you in place. You gasped as he lowered his mouth, speaking to the shell of your ear but loud enough for Wesley to pick it up, “we know you want to fuck our little detective, officer.”

Nines dragged his lips against heated skin, tongue peeking out to taste you. And just as he expected, his HUD blasted with paintballs of colour at the encoding, his pump fluttering when your lashes did so.

His other hand dragged up your waist, curving at the shape of your breasts and ghosting over your nipples. Lips replaced his tongue, and a trail of android saliva burned into your skin in his venturing down your throat. You took a staggering breath, forcing your eyes open, not realising they had closed.

“Your advances could use some work,” Nines spoke to Wesley, the man’s larynx bobbing at the sight of you melting.

Large palms curled inwards on your thighs, pushing them apart on display and kneading flesh through fabric. You held back a moan, biting down on the feeling of leaking arousal. God, when did Nines feel so good?

Nines smiled against your skin, lipsing down the expanse of your neck whilst you pretty much leaned to give him more room. His tongue prodded and lined the length of your passing artery, tasting your fastening pulse, you shivered under him. Even if rendered speechless, your body did the talking.

Wesley couldn’t decide where to look, Nines prompted further.

“You just need a little push.”

Fingers roughly pressing between your legs, one push of a massage that forced a moan deep from your chest, and Nines retreated, taking a large step back. Wesley looked half as shocked as you did, your jaw clenching in the realisation of what just happened.

Nines leaned carelessly on the bar, unbothered in leaving you aroused. That was his intention, no? To give you and your prospect a push in getting things going? Which is why he blinked confusingly when you shoved him, a frustrated scowl leaving your lips before you stomped out. Wesley sat glued to his chair, still recovering. Nines ran out after you.

Light patters of rain met his scalp upon catching up to you. You groaned when he called your name.

“You can’t just- do that!” You yelled, frustration grating your throat, showers dampening your hair, “you can’t just-“

The android remained still, attempting to understand you with a series of yellow circles.

“You can’t just touch me like that, Nines!”

But his touch had arisen positive responses, his brow furrowed in confusion, “why?”

You stumbled, eyes widening, “why- why? What do you mean why? You can’t go around touching up random people! It’s- it’s wrong!”

You weren’t random people. Nines processed for a moment, rain splatters snugging the fabric of his sweater against his skin. His scanners quickly caught your gulp, “did you not enjoy it, detective? I assumed he needed a little push.”

You blinked again, dumbfounded. Who gave him the right to put on a show for Wesley? What on Earth goes on in that metal brain of his?

“That’s not- I wasn’t going to go home with him,” water collected on your lashes, “I don’t want him.”

A wave of understanding struck him. He had misunderstood you and his ‘help’ stood void of reason. And recalling the way he stalked over you, no reconstruction software helped in justifying what he did, because the urge didn’t do it for you, it did it for himself.

The warmth of your chest invited him, kisses digging into the valley of your neck whilst he continually decoded the electrolyte contents of your sweat. It quite literally fuelled him.

Deviancy was a strange thing, though the only explanation for why Nines wanted to taste you again; he wanted to hear you breathe out his name, shaking with need, begging for more.

You shivered under water pellets, the silence weighing down each of your breaths. And hidden in the muddle of conflicted feelings, you craved Nines to touch you again, give you a warmth in frozen winds. Neither of you moved, and the ghostly burn of his lips longed for his return.

“I’m going home,” you muttered, straying away from his scanners.

He wasn’t your date. You weren’t together. But hell, if the assumptions of such didn’t make your heart flutter, you didn’t know what will. Besides, Nines was the embodiment of allurement, poised and perfect, what would he do with the likes of you?

Arms wrapped around to wade off the cold, teeth chattering, you blinked a few before turning away to walk to your car, the gusts of wind trying to push you back. Nines wouldn’t see you as anything more than a friend, you were sure of it, but your disappointment was cut short when a firm grip latched around your wrist.

He twisted you, swallowing a squeak with a collided kiss. The colours returned, blinding him tenfold in pretty pinks and bubbly yellows, prompting him to press a hand firmly on the base of your skull and keep you there.

The tension in your spine remained, but you quickly came out of shock and fervently returned the moulding of your lips with his, hand trailing the flex of his pecs, damp fabric squelching under fingertips.

The hand on your wrist migrated to the small of your back, pulling you closer. His tongue poked into your mouth, making you gasp at the added anatomy whilst he curled around ravishingly, wet sounds amidst the ambient splashes of rain. Both of your minds dazed, Nines blinking ambers at devouring you and you suddenly patting his chest with a light push.

He pulled back to let you breathe but returned mid-inhale, this time eagerly tilting his head to see what better fit. He made out the whisper of his name between kisses, responding with an approving groan.

“Nines,” you tried again, water running streams down your back as it poured heavier. You wondered if hypothermia was worth it, “nines, wait-”

He kissed you passionately, hoping to swallow the colour of lips and paint his innards as such. Though he eased, slowing to a stop and you panted onto his jaw. He took in the sight, mimicked tears streaking your blue eyeshadow and mascara under the rain, he fought the urge to prod his tongue in your mouth again.

He awaited your rejection. As you loved to remind everyone, Nines wasn’t your date, always the friend accompanying you instead. He’d be lying if he said watching you with other people didn’t bother him.

But you didn’t scold him, nor push him away in a fury. You smiled, a toothy grin that you failed to bite away and broke into a soft giggle, “we’re in the middle of a street,” you shook your head, leaning a fraction of an inch closer, “and I’m soaking wet.”

Nines pulled into a smirk, “you’re welcome.”

There, the cherry rouge of your cheeks, that was another part of you he wished to consume wholly, preferably with his tongue.

Everyone else felt wrong, but Nines felt right.

And upon passing the threshold of your home, Nines proved the feeling to be mutual by meeting your lips again, vocally praising you when your arms wrapped around his neck. Kicking the door shut, his biceps wrapped you tight, squeezing the air in your lungs and suctioning it straight into his chassis.

He stepped you back, tongue dancing with yours, his fingers tucking away wet hair from your face. You gasped as you hit the wall behind you, his hip bucking into yours with a noticeable erection.

Hands rummaged under clothing, your damp shirt peeling off your skin with a gust of cold, leaving your hairs on end. The foyer’s air, however, grew dense when Nines hungrily eyed your body. Calm blue of his LED blinked an amber and he suddenly threw you over his shoulder.

“Nines!” You shrieked, your protests dying as he caressed the back of your thigh. He carried you to your bedroom, bouncing you onto the mattress with a look that kept you frozen. You gulped in anticipation as he undressed whilst you were only stripped of your shirt.

“Your body temperature has dropped to lower ranges,�� he knelt between your legs, clasping your wrists immobile and kissing you into the sheets. You arched into him, gasping at the skin-to-synthetic contact. His lips ghosted to tongue at your jaw, a wet pad of the plastic muscle running up just below your ear.

“I must heat you.”

“You’re as cold as they come,” he pulled back to meet your remark, a teasing glimmer in your eyes. Nines kissed your collar, the sound of compensatory breaths prompting him to lower to your bra, unclasp it and swirl a perked nipple with his tongue.

The moon slitted through blinds, painting him a blue that matched his temple. A warm breath breezed over your lower abdomen, fingers gripping the hem of your pants and shimmying them off. Wet skin made you sensitive to his touch, a tingling working overtime where he wrapped around your thighs, his lips hovering over your remaining underwear.

Of all your dating partners, specifically those you had slept with, only a handful of them had been androids, and it never made it passed foreplay. Whether that be inexperience or hesitance, flings would be done after a touch-up.

Nines had his fair share of sexual partners, learning what got people going and what fed his desires. But your unfiltered storytelling exposed you of kinks and likes that a curious android like Nines couldn’t help fantasising about.

What would you look like under him? How did you sound when forced a rolling orgasm to ripple through you?

A devilish smile made his lips before he took your undergarments in his teeth, lust-blown eyes watching how you shivered at the sight of him dragging them off. Wrapping around you twice as tight, he gave you a flat lick from slit to bud, pushing down your hips to stop your squirming. He was glad to find you were, indeed, soaking wet.

Having him right there, head of brown bobbing up and down, experimentally sliding his tongue in places you didn’t know existed, the sight of him had you biting your lower lip, trying to chew down an embarrassing whimper.

His tongue made circles around your clit, flickering left and right at a gasping pace. Your hands found his scalp, splitting his hair into sizeable chunks, holding on like the handlebars of a rollercoaster; and the way he looked at you, pupils swallowing icy blue into a predatory black, a shiver ran down your back, clenching your thighs against his biceps.

Wet muscle prodded into your slit, eliciting a moan. You almost squealed when his thumb continued to press patterns on your clit whilst tongue-fucking you into the sheets. You pulled at the root of soft, chestnut hair, and he only picked up the pace, having you pant in line with his pace.

You tipped over unexpectedly, crying out your orgasm with an abrupt push against his mouth. Nines crawled above you again, making you taste yourself with a deep, sharp kiss.

To see you like this, body quivering for his touch, an undertone of pink blushing your skin, his field of vision saturated in the colour of you. He wanted more. He wanted to see you come undone again, paint you an orgasm that would stain him for the rest of his android existence. Maybe he understood why Markus created art so often, maybe abstract understanding was closer than he realised. Nines wished for nothing more than to place you high on a pedestal or pin you against the wall for reasons other than framing you a painting.

“Every date you were bailed on,” he whispered confessions on your skin, gently lipsing your shoulders, “I cancelled mine to join you.” You stiffened under him, muscles taunt under his lips, he clarified, “I’d much rather have you than anyone else, detective.”

Of course. You were right. Nines wouldn’t get bailed on that often, it was impossible. You mustered up enough air to speak, “if we’re confessing, I deleted the apps weeks ago.”

Like the robot he was, he halted mid-kiss, a shifting yellow giving him away as it did back at the ice cream cart. You were both lying to each other, simply to be in each other’s company.

You added with a tease, “you don’t have to lie to score a date with me, Nines.”

“I thought I was ‘not a date’,” blue-greys accused you.

“Yeah, I guess we’re both pretty stupid then.”

Your smile brightened the room, despite moonlight barely filtering through your windows, corners bordering darkness. Nines mirrored the grin, dipping down to kiss you with a newfound heaviness in his chest. He pulled off his briefs, lips never leaving yours, and lined himself between spread thighs.

Your breath hitched at the stretch of muscle when he pushed in, barely giving you time to adjust and pushing in further until he bottomed out. Or at least you hoped he did, you weren’t sure if you could take any more of him.

Breathing in each other's pants, he rocked slowly, fingers bruising your wrists, lips bruising your neck. Nines grew desperate to see you in the colour of his lips, turning purples in broken blood vessels. His pelvis smacked again your clitoris, grinding an added stimulation, your head rolling back, moaning his name right into his ear.

Setting a brutal pace abruptly, swallowing squeals in messy lip-locking, Nines stretched you to the teetering line of pain and pleasure, the head of his cock driving into a sensitive spot that jolted your nerves in bliss. He rutted like an animal, resting his forehead on yours, fucking you with a harsh snap of hips, your legs could only hold on for dear life. He loved to see the dip between your brows, raccoon-faced from messy makeup. It made him twitch inside of you.

“You feel so good. You look perfect,” he praised, bringing two fingers under your jaw to prompt eye contact. You met his darkened expression, his rouge curl tickling your forehead. Thumb shaping your lips, he pushed in knuckle-deep, pressing down on your tongue. You gave an instinctive suck as he growled, “you’re mine.”

Every thrust brought about a new sound from your throat, and with your mouth forced half-open, there was little you could do to stop them. Your eyes rolled back, toes curling at a rolling orgasm, the sounds of sex driving you to buck into him as he did you.

You were desperate, needy, and what was left of Nines’ restraint was snapped. He fucked hard, muttering profanities as he edged closer, seeing you at the mercy of everything he gave you flipping him inside out.

He wanted to see you like this, again and again. His thumb subconsciously retracted his simulated skin, a ripple in your mouth that diverted your attention, and a glowing blue lit up from below the whites of his hand. An interface, the both of you realised. You moaned at his display of intimacy.

Nines staggered into you, losing his rhythm.

You looked good in blue.

“Come for me.”

And with sharp thrusts, you arched into a mind-blowing orgasm, limbs shaking as he continually dragged in and out to chase his own. He spilled with a throb, panting at the chance of painting you inwards as you did to him, and watched the slowed pumping of where the both of you connected.

Though upon spotting a trail of blueish white leaking out of you, his hips bucked involuntarily, eager for another round.

You moaned in euphoria, and that was enough for him to keep going.

It was no surprise Nines adored the sight of you decorated in his markings, growling in every painted colour you presented. So, the next steps carved themselves, and you had a great idea for your next date.

Painting.

#dbh fanfic #nines x reader #nines rk900 #rk900 #dbh smut #dates #detroit become human #dbh #need me some emotionally curious nines

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itscatchyouintherye · 1 year

Text

Cheek To Cheek [ReaderxRK900]

RK900 walks in on you ‘singing’ and ‘dancing’ while sorting out files. He’s amused, but more so, he’s smitten.

This is basically me fantasizing about Nines enjoying music I like. And then sex.

When you first were on duty to work in the file storage room – alone, in a barely lit room with exactly one small window in the corner, and lots of dust and chaos – you considered resigning on the spot. Over time, though, you grew quite fond of it.

It was relaxing work to put order in old evidence bags and files and boxes. No phone ringing, no hour long staring at screen. By now, you are more than happy to do this every now and then. Usually, after a stressful case. It gives you downtime without being unproductive.

With the months, you also picked up the habit of listening to music. Why do this in complete silence when no one else is around that would be bothered?

You put a small portable speaker up on one of the shelves and go to work. Fred Astaire is gently wavering through the room while you open box after box after box. Whenever you have the chance to, for example when you have to read over a note another detective left in a file, you do it while walking around. Or rather swaying. Occasionally, you also pretend that you know how to tap dance. And sing.

Heaven, I'm in heaven

And the cares that hung around me through the week

Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak

When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek

Oh, I love to climb a mountain

And to reach the highest peak

But it doesn't thrill me half as much

As danc-

“FUCK NINES! WHAT THE FUCK?”

“Oh, hello Detective.”

“Jesus, since when have you been standing there?”

“Just long enough to conclude that I maybe should call you Ginger Rogers instead.”

Your cheeks flush and you try to hide it by turning around and putting the note you read back.

“Had I known this is what you do whenever you’re in here, I would come by more often.”

You groan and bury your face in your hands. The music that still plays now sounds more like it’s mocking you than anything else.

Nines chuckles and steps closer.

“What are you even doing here?” You mumble.

“I wanted to bring you coffee.”

Your head shoots up.

Giving you a dazzling smile, he hands you the cup.

There is something in his eyes. You never seen him like this. It’s more than amusement.

You clear your throat and take a sip. “Thanks.”

“How long has this been going on?” He gestures around.

Your mouth open and closes. Then you narrow your eyes: “You’re quoting the song, aren’t you?”

“Possibly.”

You let out another groan.

“Well, since when are you so knowledgeable in earlier 1900s music? I can hardly imagine that’s something you have hard coded into your brain.”

Nines tilts his head and his eyes dart over your face,as if he were debating if he should answer truthfully.

“You listen to it when you work at the PC.”

“But I use earbuds?”

“And I have super-human ears.”

You roll your eyes but then realize: “Wait, so you noticed that and looked it up?”

Nines hums.

That very suddenly gives this situation a totally different meaning. Not only did he research the music you listen to at work, but if he heard it while you listen to it on low volume using earbuds, he surely must have heard you in here many times before.

But he only now walked in. With the excuse that he wanted to bring you coffee.

It makes you straighten your back and smile at him. He notices the change in your demeanor and appears surprised.

“What song do you like the most?” You ask.

“I don’t really have a connection to music like that. I understand it on a theoretically level, but I barely react emotionally to it.”

“That’s not what it looks like to me.” You reply and take another step towards him.

Nines does his best to appear posed and asks: “What makes you say that?”

“You’re blushing.”

His hand flies up to his cheek, feeling caught.

You smirk: “I thought you don’t react emotionally.”

“I don’t! I mean, I do! But-“

You take his hand. Something you never done before.

He looks down at his hand in yours and then back up at your face.

“What’s your favorite song?” You ask again.

“’S…” He mumbles.

Boldly, you put your finger under his chin. “What was that?”

He finally finds your eyes: “’S Wonderful.”

His cheeks get ever bluer.

“How about I dance with you to that song and in return you tell no one about what I do when I work in here?”

His eyes widen.

“Well, I might not call it dancing, but you know…” You add.

He holds on to your hand a little tighter and nods.

You have to bite your tongue to not make a stupidly romantic comment.

As soon as the first notes rain down on you from the speaker above, Nines puts one hand on the small of your back and takes yours with the other.

“Oh!” You breathe out. You never have been so close to him. Let alone had so much body contact.

Nines glances down at you and starts moving. You rest your free hand on his shoulder and simply follow his lead. At first, he just barely moves his upper body.

'S wonderful

'S marvelous

You should care for me

'S awfully nice

Then, however, to match the rather upbeat rhythm of the song, he starts swaying between the shelves with you; until you eventually are almost waltzing and turning.

'S paradise

'S what I love to see

You've made my life so glamorous

You can't blame me for feeling amorous

By now, you’re completely entranced by Nines. You had no idea that he could move like that. You barely feel your body. You just feel how it follows his.

The look on his face, though, is what really gets you.

He stares down at you as if he personally wrote those lyrics about you. Which is completely overwhelming. And should you not be dancing with him right now, no one could have convinced you that he actually feels like that.

My dear, it's four-leaf clover time

From now on my heart's working overtime

Oh! 'S wonderful, marvelous

That you should care for me

Because of the very restricted room between the shelves, you have to move even closer together. Not that you mind. However, it makes it ever more difficult for you to keep it cool when you are basically rubbing against Nines.

You completely lose yourself in his eyes.

Then the song is over. You stop moving.

But neither of you lets go. You just look at each other, realizing that this embrace feels a little too good.

Eventually, you cannot bear the tension any longer and gently tug your hand out of Nine’s grasp.

He lets go.

Only for a second, though.

Then he grabs your waist with one hand and the back of your neck with the other and pulls you flush against him.

You immediately throw your arms around him, bury your hands in his hair and kiss him.

He lets out a surprised gasp, holding onto you a little tighter.

His lips are way plusher and warmer than you imagined. (Yes, you imagined it many times.)

Willingly, you open your mouth to invite his tongue in. It feels different from a human tongue, but not unpleasant. You hum and rub your crotch against his.

Nines curses and breaks the kiss.

You bite your bottom lip and look up at him. Smugly, you tell him: “Had I known this is what you do when I get you in here, I would have sung way louder.”

He chuckles and pinches your thigh, making your giggle. Then he tells you: “If this is what I do when you sing quietly, imagine what I’d do when you sing loudly.”

“Run?” You jest.

“Oh, quite the opposite.” He murmurs and kisses you again, pushing you up against a shelf. Instinctively, you snake one leg around him to keep him close.

Nines reaches down and grabs your outer thigh to hold it up while grinding against you.

Your breathing hitches.

“What is it, detective?” He teases, sending shivers down your spine.

“I-“ You have to clear your throat. “If you keep doing that…”

“Then what?” He rolls his hips again.

You let out choked moan.

“Then you’ll have to fuck me.”

Nines freezes for a moment as if he weren’t sure you’re being serious.

You raise an eyebrow.

It doesn’t take much more for him to push your pants and underwear down your legs and rip open his own belt.

“Holy shit.” You breathe out when you see his erection.

Nines kisses you once more while lining himself up with your entrance.

A loud, throaty moan escapes your lips when he pushes into you, that luckily gets silenced by Nine’s mouth.

“Be careful what you wish for, detective.” He tells you as he bottoms out, voice strained.

“I wished for this many times.”

Slowly, he starts to thrust.

“Really?”

“Oh yes.” Your head falls back.

Nines dips his head down to nibble on the side of your neck and carefully bite into your shoulder.

His strokes become faster but not less deep.

Your chest is heaving and your head spinning. He feels so good all over you. In you.

You don’t even care anymore that you’re at work. No one comes in here, except Nines and you.

Soon, you’ll also be the only ones cumming in here – because goddamn does he know how to fuck.

His right hand claws into your thigh and his left roams your chest. Neither of you took off your tops. The fabric of your blouse rustles when he claws into your tits. One after the other.

“You’re taking me so well, detective.” He murmurs.

That salacious, seemingly out of character, comment is enough to put you on the edge of an orgasm.

“I can feel you tighten.” Nines tells you while pressing light kisses to your throat and then up to your lips. You whimper.

“Cum for me and I’ll take you home and make you cum until you beg me to stop.”

“I- good gods, Nines.” You stiffen.

“Hm, so pretty and warm for me.”

You start to roll your hips downwards to meet his thrusts, eagerly and desperately chasing your orgasm.

“Fuck, how are you so good at this?” You breathe out.

“Cum for me and I’ll show all the other things I’m good at. “

“I am, I am…” You voice trails off as he slams into you, pressing you against his chest.

Your rest your head on his shoulder and bite into his jacket to silence your pants and moans.

With another hard thrust, you are catapulted into an orgasm that makes you cry out and shake in Nine’s arms.

He slows down and eventually pulls out to hold you up with both arms.

“What about you?” You ask weakly, still high.

“Don’t worry about me.”

“But I want to-“ You take a deep breath and look at his face. “I want to see you cum. I want to see your face when you become undone.”

Now Nines is the flustered one.

You chuckle and press a kiss to his lips.

“You better pack your stuff then.” He whispers. “I’ll wait outside.”

#detroit become human #connor rk900 #detroit being human #rk900 x reader #nines rk900 #smut #fanfic #connor smut

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