Comfort Zone (Connor x Reader)

Fifty-Three

(Well, I've got more lemonade, and this one is long overdue.

Another serious Mature Warning!)

"It's been a long time since I didn't want to go to work the next day," you admitted quietly. You were at the counter, knife in hand and letting your Roomba teach you a recipe.

His head tipped a little. "Why do you feel this way, then?"

The smile was faint like the pink spreading across your cheeks. "Because I'm enjoying being home. Less noise. Less interruption. Less... Hank."

Chuckling with you, Connor shook his head. "Hank isn't so terrible, Detective. He was much worse when I initially met him. By comparison, he's soft." Carefully slipping behind you, arms snaked around your waist, the android's head on your shoulder to watch. "Small, even pieces. Take your time. Speed comes with practice, I do not want you to injure yourself."

His affections were no longer pushed away or reasoned out of. How could you when he'd gotten the confession he wanted in the end? You simply let him show his love when he wanted to. Not that you didn't do the same; the android was just much more frequent. "You're better at this than I am," you commiserated.

"I am beginning to think you actually have no interest in cooking and just want my attention," the RK800 murmured. "If that is the case, there are better methods. You know I do not mind cooking; being given orders as an android does not wear me down when I know those commands make you happy in the end."

How does he fucking do this to me...?

The knife was set down, out of the way, before you slowly turned in his hold. Your face was on fire again, heart beating a frantic rhythm. Before he could question you, his embrace was returned, your face buried in his neck. "......... I love you, Connor," was your soft, muffled response.

This was unprompted. "Are you well? Did I say something wrong...?"

"No. You just have this knack for calling me out so fuck you," you added, snickering. The android held you close, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry, okay? I absolutely have no interest in cooking, I just... I like how you teach things."

That sent a lovely spark down his back. "Well, if teaching is what you seek, perhaps I can still perform."

Straightening up to meet his gaze, your hands laced behind his neck. "I, for one, look forward to watching you perform, Detective," you purred. When the android had a faint color in his cheeks, you smirked. "Not fun when the shoe's on the other foot, huh? How do you enjoy being teased with your own words?"

"How do you think you'll fare when you know you'll succumb to me no matter what you tell me?" Connor's cute blushing face had darkened just enough, like a reminder of his place: above you. "I still have yet to bend you over my desk."

A part of you would have gotten flustered, chalking it up to just flirting like always. But you bit at your bottom lip instead. "Yes. You do. And I'm convinced you're all talk, Connor. You challenged me to try and beat your face in... and now it's my turn. I fucking challenge you to bend me over your desk at the precinct. Tonight. When everyone else is gone. Or let them watch, I don't care." Leaning in, you nibbled his ear, tugging at it a bit. "Or are you too scared of the consequences...?"

You couldn't see his crooked smile spread, but it was hard to ignore when his large hands went to your hips, squeezing them gently. "I told you I would, Detective. But since you are deciding to challenge me to do it, not only will you not walk for weeks, I won't stop at my desk alone. I will take you from desk to desk and fuck you raw until you cannot take me any longer."