Detroit Become Human x Readers

Feelings (Connor x Reader)

Your feelings towards androids had always been complicated. Helpers to society, destroyers of the economy. Personable technology and demons of the uncanny valley. Submissive and unthreatening, to loud and dangerous. Like humans, you supposed, your feelings towards androids would fluctuate. And that was just as a whole. When it came to individuals, the waters only got muddier.

Connor was uncomfortable to talk to and awkward to watch, and then he was funny to listen in on and cute to look at. But then he was a dangerous person to anger, capable of quick and efficient take-downs and bloody fighting techniques. He was an other. A figure with no emotions you were simply working a job with. Then he was a friend. Scared, confused and overwhelmed by the moral choices he’d only recently started to understand.

He had captured your heart, wholly and truly over a matter of days.

But right now, he was an utter asshole, who posed a bigger threat to Detroit than the so-called criminal deviants he was hunting.

“Connor!” Your voice, broken and laced with hurt cut through the whistling wind and flurries of snow. The same snow that had held you up minutes before when you threw yourself from Hank’s stuck car, sprinting down empty Detroit streets with Hank’s yells in the background, swallowed by the sound of your feet on the pavement and heavy breathing. Feet that had dragged you up countless stairs and out a metal door to a freezing rooftop.

Feet that had dragged you desperately towards him.

It was hard to see, but he was there. In between the dark and specks of snow was his figure, perched at the edge of the building, knelt down, with a sniper on his shoulder. You’d have appreciated how defined and attractive he looked, was he not in the middle of attempting murder, and subverting history’s entire course.

“Connor-” You walked forward 10 paces when he stuck out his hand. Palm first, a signal to stop. There was a fluid, programmed feeling to the movement, and it twisted unease into your stomach.

“Y/N,” He said your name with a sharpness that only served to heighten your anxiety. His head turned, and briefly, you could see his eyes. A harsh brown, with the determination of a man who could not be stopped. His brow creased as he noted you standing there, alone. No weapon, no anything. “What are you doing?”

It was a good question, and one you were asking yourself. What were you doing? Connor was doing his job. Your job, Hanks job. Stopping the Deviants, ending the rebellion. Making things go back to the way they used to be. When you’d first joined the case, that was the end goal.

“Stopping you… I think?” You offered him a half smile and a shrug in a weak attempt to defuse the tension. You could see Connor’s jaw clench as he held you in a cold stare, lasting a few more seconds before he turned back, grip tightening on the sniper rifle. In all honesty, you had no plan. You were leaving that part up to Hank up until you all but abandoned him. You were starting to regret that now.

“It’s too late. You can’t. This is what I was made to do.” His finger trailed to the trigger, and you could feel your heart jump to your throat and your stomach drop to your gut. No, this couldn’t happen. You had to stop him-distract him somehow.

“But- But what if it wasn’t?” You asked, taking two more steps forward. Whether it was your words or your movement, you caught his attention. Turning to face you, his fingers momentarily left the gun. The sigh of relief that left you was audible even to your own ringing ears.

“What?” For an android that supposedly felt no emotion, he sure did sound pissed. You’d seen him like this before, during interrogations. Back then you were just happy he was on your side. Now you weren’t sure how to feel.