#hank anderson reader insert

[gatitties]

Hi, lovely! I've got a request for Hank Anderson from DBH! Would you write about a female reader who helps him get his life back together? As in, cleaning around the house and shopping for new clothes with him and convincing him to get a haircut. You know, to help him get out of that depression spiral the poor man has been living in for years. I'd appreciate some romantic/fluffy interactions between the two, if that's okay!

Oh, also, I think it'd be funny if reader teamed up with Connor to convince Hank to be more active

Thank you! <3

─Hank Anderson x fem!reader

─Summary: Your walk ends up being a reminder that there is still a lot to overcome, but that Hank will always have you by his side.

─Warnings: mention of suicide

"Connor?" you took your hands out of your pockets to greet him, letting the cold winter wind hit your warm skin, you watched as the cyborg stood in front of the door without moving "Isn't Hank home?"

"Ah, I'm glad to see you, I don't know, I've been calling for a while, Lieutenant Hank hasn't shown up at his scheduled time at his office."

"I see…"

You frowned at the information, you were very worried about Hank, now you were really just taking a walk around the neighborhood, it was your day off, but you couldn't help but approach Hank's house, knowing that these last few months he had been more down, even after all this time and with the arrival of Connor into his life ─although accepted a little reluctantly─ you thought that everything was going to go much better than before, in fact, he made progress, but perhaps, the current date made him overthink too much about situations from the past, about the immovable destiny.

You took out a spare key that he had left you, you had to use it many times, countless days in which a bad feeling closed the mouth of your stomach and infected your mind like a plague, you are never prepared enough to see a person you love pointing a gun at their temple, and as much as you try to erase that disgusting image, it is not easy to forget. You open the door with a soft click, letting Connor in who already seems to be taking in the state of the house, he immediately informs you that Hank seems to be in the bathroom, the dining room and kitchen are a mess, there are bottles thrown around and chinese food lying around.

"I can pick all this up, could you check on the lieutenant?"

"You don't have to tell me twice, I'll let you know if I need help upstairs."

You heard murmurs in the bathroom, moving quickly, you opened the door, hoping not to see something grotesque, luckily, you only found a dejected Hank, with traces of vomit on his clothes and beard, his eyes met yours, they were tired, darkened, without shine or life, your heart crumpled, immediately you slid to his side, patting his shoulder.

"I'm disgusting… I don't even have enough courage to-"

"Don't go on" you cut him off angrily, not directed at him, but at the vulnerable situation he was in, he was still somewhat drunk "come on, let's clean you up a little, okay?"

You softened your tone, helping him stand up, he grabbed your shoulder and waist, a persistent dizziness made him stagger a little, you fought against the weight of his own body against yours, turning on the faucet, you were there for at least half an hour to make him look like a totally normal and functional person. You forced him to change his clothes, brush his teeth, among other basic things to keep up, you waited patiently in his room until he finished being a walking disaster, when the drunkenness began to subside the guilt began to take over him, he had lost count of how many times you had had to come to help him even when he didn't tell you that he was feeling bad.

He came in like a scolded dog, like a child who knew he had done something wrong and was going to be scolded, like a guilty person entering the police station, his head down, his shoulders hunched, his body betraying his thoughts, his weight making the mattress sink beside you, unable to look at you, he decided he needed to sort out his mind a bit before saying anything and you were patient.

"I'm sorry… I- the truth is I don't know how to thank you for all this, it's just that lately the sessions haven't progressed and it's like I'm still stuck at the same point, repeating the story over and over again, I feel frustrated, I really didn't plan to do…" he left the sentence hanging for a moment, looking at you quickly to see your expression, your lips pursed in a grimace of concern, but you didn't seem upset "none of that, it's embarrassing because I thought I was over it, but I just- uh- I drank too much last night."

You sighed nasally, you weren't the one to lecture him about this, he already had a nice psychologist he went to for when this kind of thing happened, so you stuck to your role, comforting him and supporting him unconditionally.

"It's okay Hank, calm down, the truth is that it relieves me a lot and at the same time worries me, I'm going to cut your damn drinking habit."

He rolled his eyes, recovering his spirits minimally, he pushed you aside, getting up from the bed, you copied his actions, both of you going downstairs where Connor waited patiently, he had finished cleaning a while ago, but he thought it was better not to interrupt your talk, feeling like you were having an intimate moment.

"I'm glad to know that you're feeling better Lieutenant, but there's work to do."

"I know, I know… god, why did you let him in?"

He murmured the last part to you, you hit his arm moderately, looking at him as a warning sign, he just ignored you, grabbing his jacket along with a lighter and tobacco, he still had unfortunate comments with poor Connor, but it doesn't matter, you will jump to defend your android son tooth and nail.

The cold hit your face again when the door opened, indicating that the unexpected and short visit had come to an end, Hank signaled Connor to wait for him in the car, while you stayed a moment longer enjoying the company, he took your hands in his, wrapping them, his gaze shone slightly again when he looked at you, you didn't know if he was blushing because of what he was doing or because the cold began to penetrate our bones, but his cheeks ─just like yours─ began to warm up.

"I am very grateful to have you by my side, thank you for everything."

"Hank…" you looked away, feeling shy all of a sudden, your eyes wandering from your joined hands to his lips "that sounds stupidly cheesy."

You let out a small giggle, making his cheeks turn a deeper red, making him sputter out some denials about your statement, deciding that you were holding him back too long, seeing as he was in for a good scolding for being late to work, you cut the whole scene short with a quick kiss on the lips, leaving the man speechless, you left as quickly as you came, solving problems, but creating others, at least he would know how to deal with the kind of problems you caused him, one day you would make his poor heart burst.

"Do people feel better if you kiss them? I've been noticing that lately, I can give you a kiss too if you tell me you're not feeling well, Lieutenant."

"Shut up Connor, it doesn't work like that."

"Could you explain it to me, then?"

"Can't you look it up on the internet or something?" his cheeks returned to a more natural color, remembering the sensation you left on his lips "God, you better not look anything up, you might get more confused."

[aspenmissing]

ᴅᴇᴛʀᴏɪᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

☆ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ | ❋ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ | ✧ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ | ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ

ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚛

𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝙰𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗

𝙶𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗 𝚁𝚎𝚎𝚍

𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚞𝚜

𝙴𝚕𝚒𝚓𝚊𝚑 𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚜𝚔𝚒

𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗

[thesudokukid]

I'm finally more or less back to normal, hooray!

←Prev. AO3 Next

Basic Decency, Ch. Two: Basic Decency (we're being watched)

Pairing: Autistic!Connor x Autistic!Reader

Word Count: ~2,200 words

POV: Alternating between Ainsel (Reader) and Connor with one scene in Hank's POV at the very end of the chapter. Which also features the first instance of, "you can't kill me in a way that matters, I don't care if I'm alive."

When your dad says to get behind him, you don't hesitate to do it. He wouldn't say that if he didn't think it was serious.

When you finish backing up you land on Connor's right. He looks at you and then at the space behind you before looking back at you. Like he's surprised you didn't keep going. Like he believed that you would get behind him.

Your dad goes in first but you go in second while Connor's distracted by your refusal to hide behind him. Like he expects you to use him as some kind of shield. Your grudge against Cyberlife is growing by the second.

You don't manage more than ten footsteps into the inky blackness without looking up because you feel watched.

Usually you're comforted by the dark. Not this time. The boards on the windows of the apartment you're all investigating makes it not just dark, but black hole dark. The apartment swallows any light that tries to come in. Making it a devil of a place to search. The flock of pigeons that get startled by your every step doesn't help. But you search it anyways. It's your job after all.

Luckily, Connor's thorough enough that you know he’d tell someone if he heard something. Or saw it for that matter since you don't doubt he can see better in the dark than either of you can. Even still…

You feel watched.

You cover the back of your neck for a moment of relief. When you pull away your hand, the keyed up feeling has dimmed but refuses to go away. You look up again and try not to feel like a kid searching for a monster under their bed.

You're fine. You try to remind yourself. You're safe. Or at least with people who have a personal interest in your being safe. Which is almost ike being safe.

No good. The knot in your stomach remains unchanged, uncaring of your attempts to reassure yourself.

Your eyes look up to the ceiling for the third time in as many minutes.

“We're being watched," you find yourself saying.

You pull up the hood of your jacket and feel yourself relax as you get your third miracle of the day.

Connor nods at you wordlessly, as if to reassure you he believes you and then his mouth presses itself into a thin line. He's taking you seriously. He's taking you seriously. He is actually taking you seriously. It occurs to you that this shouldn't be a new feeling (or feel miraculous) where he's concerned because he's always taken you seriously but...

Your musings are interrupted when floorboards near you creak and you just know that your dad, DPD's youngest Lieutenant, is going to question you about what's going on.

"D'you wanna talk about it," your dad asks.

You tense up, absolutely not ready to have this conversation. You're all currently working and your dad is not a fan of androids. To say that he doesn't care for them is the understatement of the decade at least. And sure now that he's interacting with one that stance seems to have softened. But you can't be sure. He's not going to like having this conversation and he might even tell you Connor doesn't have feelings. This is not the place or the time to be having this conversation and you don't hesitate to tell him so.

"We're in the middle of working," you say, all nerves, no calm. Your speech gets more formal as you begin reserving energy to work on the case in earnest.

"This is not the place or time to be having this particular conversation. If I'm going to have a breakdown I'd rather do it at home. Not here. But since I know you're likely to push me about it, I'm so used to being ignored or belittled or both that I'm honestly surprised Connor is taking me seriously."

You look at him and sigh in relief when you notice he's not even looking directly at you. He doesn't take the risk of accidental eye contact for conversations like this and you've always been grateful for it. For the fact that he knows how much it puts you off.

Your dad clears his throat and gives you time to lower your eyes before he looks at you.

"Wish I could say I'm surprised humanity's so fucked up but I'm not. The idea of somebody being nice to you shouldn't make you this goddamn uncomfortable. Or anyone else for that matter. You definitely shouldn't be startled by basic decency. You haven't done anything to deserve that. Shit, knowing you, you probably never will."

You laugh softly. "I'm not just startled. I'm also unsettled. Unnerved. Discombobulated. Perturbed. I don't know what that says about humanity that I'm so on edge about not being treated with cruelty and malice. And I don't know that I care to. He's the first person, besides you, that I haven't had to dumb myself down for, in any capacity. The whole experience of being treated like an actual person for once is strange and upsetting and I really don't want it to be. The sad thing is, I don't think either of us knows how to fix it."

He looks pensive as he starts leaning in to check a nearby jacket. There are initials on the inside. At a guess you think maybe the Deviant was desperate for something to own. Proof of being more than just a thing. Wanted to leave its mark on the world in some way, if only via initials on the inside of a jacket. You can't help thinking the Deviant wanted to prove to themselves, in some small way, that they were a person too. It's a feeling you understand as an autistic person. You understand it so well you honestly think you're going to be sick.

You open the closet to distract yourself for a minute. You're partly hoping for a mop bucket. For something that's meant to be in a closet. A mundane distraction from the heartbreaking reality around you. You aren't quite that lucky since a few birds come flying out of the closet. But it's still a relief to have your dad make assorted complaints about the pigeons and his bird phobia.

---

Connor inspects the dilapidated bathroom of the abandoned apartment, keeping an open ear for any sound, in case the Deviant managed to hide in the apartment. And so of course, heard the entire discussion. Finds that he "feels better" about his decision now that he can put their past behavior in context.

The way Ainsel carries themselves, speaking only when spoken to or to distribute important information, would suggest that Ainsel prefers to go unnoticed. Or at least, that they are accustomed to going unnoticed. He hasn't truly understood why until today.

It makes it all the more "worrisome" and "concerning" that Ainsel said outright they were being watched. They wouldn't have imparted the information if they weren't at least 80% certain of it, according to his projections. Knowing this, Connor finds it better to trust the feeling than not.

"There's an LED in the sink," Connor calls out upon seeing it. It's been deactivated only about two weeks. Since the day of the Ortiz homicide investigation. Knowing that only serves to confirm Cyberlife's statement that the "life" of a Deviant is as short as it is painful.

"Figured it had to be an android," Hank says, moving to join him and standing near the doorway. "Most people couldn't handle the mess of living with all these fucking pigeons."

"I still think it was rude to leave those poor animals in that closet," Ainsel adds from off in the distance. "Though now that I think about it, it's probably ruder to have this number in the first place." As though their central objection to the Deviant is its poor pet ownership and not its Deviancy.

"The symbol RA9 was written on this wall 2,741 times," Connor says.

"A couple of fuckin' weeks ago you probably would have just rounded," Hank asks. "Anything change between now and then?"

Connor doesn't know how to answer that particular question. And is saved from answering when he spots a thin book hidden in the wall.

"I think I found its journal," he announces.

The floor begins creaking with the sound of Ainsel's walking pattern. Of course that would be what brings them over.

Connor can't help himself and his eyes flick over to the direction Ainsel's footsteps are coming from.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^

Given Ainsel's fondness towards puzzles, he decides that they should be the one to open it. And indeed they don't seem to be troubled in the slightest by the encryption they find inside it. If anything they seem pleased, eager to try decrypting it.

And then they tap out that rhythm from earlier in the day. "Shave and a Haircut". He almost wonders if that's going to be a new stim for them. Wonders if he "wants" it to be a new stim for them. Almost. Best not to think on it further.

---

Opening what might be a journal or a diary is a little exciting. Even under the current circumstances.

You're not surprised by the encryption. You can't help thinking it might have the location of Jericho inside and then, if Connor needs it, needs to hide from Cyberlife. He can go. And then, maybe you won't have to lose him after all.

It's a selfish thought to be sure. Buying Connor's future at the cost of someone else's. But you are SO tired of losing everything you've wanted. Of feeling it's safe to want things only to lose them in the end. You decide, in that moment, to make "Shave and a Haircut" one of your new stims. So you'll still have something of him left if and when he has to leave. Though knowing Cyberlife that's absolutely a "when" and not an "if". But for now, Connor is here with you, safe. As safe as you can make him anyway. You tap out "Shave and a Haircut". Decide that it'll mean joy. As a way to hang on to at least a little of the peace he's given you so far.

---

"So what's the prognosis," Hank asks from not too far away.

He can't help but find it a little funny to see Connor jump back, AWAY from Ainsel, like a kid who had his hand in a cookie jar. Like Hank's gonna tear into him for so much as standing near Ainsel. Shit. He's gonna have to think really hard about his opinion on androids for Ainsel's sake, isn't he?

They close the journal and hand it back to the big dork whose LED is blinking red like some kind of alarm.

"Are you okay," Ainsel asks.

"I'm fine," Connor says. Ainsel raises an eyebrow at him.

"Nothing has been damaged," he says desperately. Like he's almost afraid of Ainsel's honest concern for him.

"If you're sure," Ainsel says, putting the journal back in Connor's hand.

Hank doesn't miss the way Connor's hand lingers almost too long but not quite on theirs. Like he's calculated the maximum appropriate time to touch their hand or something.

And much as he's enjoying watching this little love story play out, they DO unfortunately have a job to do.

"So anyways, what's the damage? How long's it gonna take to figure out whatever code that book's got? I only saw it from here, but I just know that's gonna be a bitch and a half to crack."

"Several weeks at least," says Connor sounding bizarrely relieved.

Ainsel nods and leaves the room without another word. He catches them looking up as they leave the bathroom. And Connor seems like he's going to follow for a moment before deciding against it. Though his eyes do linger on the doorway to the next room where Ainsel is fussing about the birdseed they saw in the journal pages.

"They seem to be doing better," Connor says, probably more to himself than to Hank.

"We've been trying," Hank says. He never did manage to figure out who sent him the video clip of Ainsel saying "you can't kill me in a way that matters, I don't care if I'm alive" during a hostage negotiation.

It was sent from a temporary email address that existed for maybe thirty minutes at most before being deleted. Given how Connor's acting, how worried about Ainsel he seems and the fact that he was the negotiator, Hank's got every reason to believe it was him.

"We should probably go and check the ceiling," Hank says. "Since one of us keeps thinking they're being watched."

Hank isn't too sure himself but he's hardly going to say that in Ainsel's hearing range. Whatever flaws he might have, he likes to think he's been a pretty good dad to them. Or at least, a halfway decent one. Besides he knows how thorough his kid is. If Ainsel thinks there's somebody in the ceiling or whatever, it's at least worth a look. It's gotta be. They don't say horror movie shit like "we're being watched" unless they're triple sure about it.

Heads up, next chapter is one of my favorites!

[foxyarchive]

Glass in the Ocean[P1]

After your grandfather's unexpected death, you find yourself temporarily living with your grandmother until she can find someone else to help her run her shop.

You, and everyone else, have always been taught not to trust mers. Even with this information, you find yourself drawing closer to three mers who have kept themselves hidden from the local populace for years, now. The closer you grow to them, the more you begin to learn about them, and the more the truth begins to unravel.

Was originally supposed to be just some steamy fun times with the boys but I got carried away so there's plot now so it may move a bit fast :,) Hoping for weekly updates!

Cross Posted on AO3!

Warnings: Mention of family death, almost drowning(not really though)

Words: ~5.2k

Tags in the comments! Ask to be added to the taglist!

P1 | P2 | P3

The ocean had always been a force of nature you were afraid of testing your luck with. Tumultuous tornadoes or shrieking storms? Terrifying, sure, but nothing that really got the hair standing on the back of your neck quite like the thought of being lost to the yawning expanse of the sea. There was still so much that was unknown about it, after all. Not only that, but waters were extremely dangerous when filled with such a variety of life; Intelligent, too. 

Sharks were an issue to those who couldn’t keep to themselves. After all, they preferred to stay in their own waters, away from beaches where pesky people invading their space roamed and swam. Jellyfish could be terrifying in their own right, too, along with any seals that happened to be swimming too close and feeling a little too irate at those in the waters. All of those animals had one thing in common, though: Intelligence. Although the creatures held enough intelligence to make decisions of their own(and most were much smarter than humans assumed), most of them acted on instinct. They didn’t purposefully go out of their way to ruin your day, unless something spooked them enough to. Perhaps they were feeling a bit peckish as well– It’s only natural. 

No, the ones who purposefully sought a chance to absolutely fuck over your entire life were the mers. Cruel, intelligent creatures that loved to see nothing more than the suffering of landwalkers. They would pretend to play nice with you, inviting you in with the allure of wanting to learn more about yourself or the world beyond sea; Those that could speak the common coast tongue, at least. It was rare to find a mer who could actually speak any coast tongue, besides a couple of keywords; Namely, those were something like, ‘Help!’, or, ‘Save me!’. Another luring tactic, besides their ethereal looks. Mers were beautiful creatures in the eyes of many. Flawless skin with long, sleek, shimmering tails. It could be easy enough to trick humans into coming closer, and those allured enough fell right into their trap. 

Most mers only had their claws, inhuman strength, swim speed, and fangs, though. Thank God for that, as the very rare, known as ‘sirens’, had the ability to actually put some under a spell. Well, scientifically, it wasn’t actually, technically a spell. It wasn’t quite magic, after all, but the song apparently made chemicals in your brain flood enough dopamine to lure you towards the sensation. A heady, hazy mixture of lust and a false sense of security. Any sirens that were caught out were usually killed on sight. Not all mers were immediately killed, after all. Despite the fear humans had of them, and the staunch irritation, there was a certain balance to the ecosystem to be had… And certain prices to pay for killing a member of a pod. 

All in all, everyone was taught not to trust mers. You weren’t excluded from this, but you never found yourself taking all of these warnings too seriously just because you had no desire to go swimming in the ocean. Any beaches made specifically for human points to swim in were always well guarded by eco-disruptors, and even the occasional patrol boat set with a spear. Anything else beyond that, though? It was a risk to swim, especially alone. Luckily, some areas were less densely populated with mers, which made them booming vacation spots. 

You happened to be visiting one of those areas, but not for vacation. It was a more somber occasion, unfortunately, which would be followed by some work. Your grandfather had just unexpectedly passed away, and you were going to attend the funeral. Thankfully, your job allowed you to work from just about anywhere that had internet. Your grandparents had owned a small shop together after they retired to the coastside; A cute little building with beautiful glass blown and shaped figurines on the boardwalk. It had been something your grandmother loved doing, and you knew that closing it was the last thing she wanted to do. However, you knew she couldn’t keep it open herself. So, then, you decided that you’d help her out for a while until she found somebody who could work with her. 

You weren’t an expert in glass blowing or shaping, by any means, but you’d done it a few times before with her. She was going to take on the brunt of the molding, and you knew you’d only really would need to help with holding and blowing when necessary. It was something you could do between your actual job, so why not? 

It had been a long time since you’d visited the coast; At least, right up on the edge. Your grandmother had her own little house right along the coast, as did many others around here. Something your grandfather had managed to snag years ago, when you could practically buy homes with bubble gum and paperclips. The home was well maintained enough, even if it could use a fresh coat of paint and some reinforcing in parts of it(namely the balcony, some of the wood sagged just a bit too much). If you were handy at all, you’d probably offer to take it on as a side project when you weren’t doing glass blowing or your actual work, but you didn’t trust yourself in the slightest. 

The service was early in the morning. You had driven in the night before, shacking up with your grandmother in the spare bedroom, which you’d come to call home for at least the next week or so. Probably longer. After the service, there had been the reception, which left you rather stuffed full of food, tired of mingling with family you hadn’t seen for a long time, and just tired in general. Getting here had taken a lot out of you, and it wasn’t every day you were so social. It was nice to see some family members you hadn’t seen in awhile, and swapped cherished memories of your grandfather. By the time it was all over, though, you were exhausted. Your grandmother was still out, and your immediate family had invited you to come peruse the town with them, but you declined, too tired. Instead, you headed back to your temporary home to take a nap so you could have dinner with them later in the evening. 

Eyeing the bed as you undressed from your funeral wear, a sudden idea crossed your mind. Peering out of the window, you took in the warm, inviting sky. Blue with fluffy, wispy clouds, you decided on a whim that you would do something you hadn’t done in a long time: You’d go sunbathing. This place was free of mers, after all. The beach was totally safe– Maybe except for some crabs and birds, but you doubted anything was going to come pinching or nipping at you. Decidedly, you put on your swimwear, grabbing a towel and large brimmed sunhat. After lotioning, you put on some flipflops, walking down the small pathway carved into the cliff, down to the beach right outside of the house. It was a quick walk, even if a little unsteady due to the uneven nature of the stone’s cutting, but it was worth the price to have easy access to the beach. 

You walked a little ways from the staircase, opting for some privacy should anyone return to the house early. Last thing you wanted was some annoying cousins throwing bits of plants or rocks down on you if you were right by the staircase. There was a decent sized overhang a good distance from the stairs, forming an alcove, and although you didn’t move to lay under it(you were trying to sunbathe, after all), it offered you some sense of security for whatever reason. Maybe due in part to it technically being ‘shelter’. You rolled out your towel with a flourish, putting your flipflops aside as you settled down with a sigh. The ocean was still a good fifteen feet from you, and you doubted the tide was going to be rising up anytime soon. 

Already beginning to feel more sleepy due to the sun’s rays beaming down, you decided now was as good of a time as ever to finally get some rest. Laying back, you popped your earbuds in, flicking on a playlist. After turning it down reasonably enough, you took a moment to admire the gleaming beast in front of you. It stretched out far beyond your vision, sparkles shimmering atop the vast deep blue. The waves were gentle, foam softly curling up onto the beach, free of any clutter or weeds. A serene smile pulled onto your lips, and for a moment, you thought about possibly swimming later. It was something you rarely ever did, ocean or not, so… Why not do it now that you’ll be local for a bit?

That was definitely later, though. Right now? It was nap time. You laid back, placing the sunhat over your face so the sun wasn’t glaring right onto your closed eyelids. You just hoped there wouldn’t be a significant difference in tan from your face on the rest of your body. Any worries about that quickly vanished as you dozed off, lulled by the sound of your music, encompassing heat, and the faint sound of waves rolling in the distance. 

—

You weren’t entirely certain how long you’d been sleeping for. You didn’t wake naturally, either. The reason you had begun to stir was because you felt droplets on your legs. The comparing cold drew you from your slumber as it continued, making you grumble and shift. It stopped, briefly, and you just assumed that there had been some spray carried by the wind. As you began to drift off one more, it happened again. It felt a little more prominent this time; The drops were fatter, and definitely more annoying. Then, there was more, and it managed to spray across your stomach as well. 

That’s when you finally sighed out, deciding that the wind was not on your side. Grumbling, you spread your arms, back arching in tandem in one long, delicious stretch. A moan of appreciation left your lips, and you found the stretch was so good that you were briefly left winded afterwards. Opening your eyes, you peered up at the sun, grimacing as you held a hand up to shield your vision from it. Wait. Weren’t you wearing your sunhat? Did the wind sweep it away? You took a moment to rub your eyes with the heels of your palms, before sitting up, scanning the area when your vision cleared. 

There were two concerning things, immediately. The first was that you did see your hat, beginning to be pulled along further and further out to sea. The second, much more concerning thing, though, was the creature that was partially washed up on the beach. 

“Oh, f-fuck!” You scrambled, hastily, to your feet. Or, well, you tried to. Your ankles had gotten caught up, tangled in your towel, causing you to just plop right back on your ass in the sand. The mer partially lounging let out something that you were certain was a laugh, and you weren’t sure whether to be cross or terrified. A mix of both, perhaps, as your eyes landed back on it. It– He, you were certain– Was partially out of the water, looking quite lazy. Well, if at least one thing was true about mers, it was their beauty. 

You were certain this was the most attractive creature you’d ever laid eyes on. He was lean and muscled, skin lightly sunkissed in a sense where he had a faint tan, but still didn’t seem quite as tan as you’d heard other frequently breaching mers were. His jaw was sharp, and so were his cheekbones, and he had this roguish, very handsome smirk on his face as his eyes met with yours. They were a beautiful, alluring umber, adding to the gorgeously tousled mop of hair atop his head that was a slightly lighter shade. Although all of that was most certainly attractive… You found your eyes trailing downward, taking in the sight of his tail. 

Long and slick, you couldn’t see all of it, as half of it was still submerged in the water. What you did catch, though, was that his scales were a glossy navy blue with a pretty pattern of blue yonder interrupting them. It was then you noticed he had some scales on his ribs, as well as on his hands and cheeks. It didn’t make him look any less unattractive, though, and was it weird that you kept referring to him as attractive? Probably. He was a mer, but damned if he wasn’t hot. You didn’t even notice that his lips were moving until you spied the faint activity out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t hear him, earbuds still softly playing music. 

“What?” You asked after you popped them out, trying to clear the haze from your mind that you convinced yourself was definitely shock and not anything else. He looked amused, lips curling up further, revealing a set of slightly sharpened teeth. 

“I said, if you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Oh, God, he’d totally caught you ogling. He didn’t seem to mind, though; In fact, he was practically preening under the attention as he turned onto his back, stretching out his lithe form. His tail curled up from the water, briefly, and you caught sight of the beautiful fin at the end; Long and elegant, but still webbed and strong enough to where you were sure he was a formidable swimmer like his kin. “I can pose, if you’d like.” He turned his head to the side, accentuating his delicious jawbone, and you noticed now his ears were a bit pointed at the end, scaled as well. Your cheeks immediately heated up, and you found yourself stammering, trying to assure him that, no, you weren’t going to take any pictures and you totally didn’t feel super attracted to a mer. 

Before any of that came to your lips, though, a sudden realization hit you: He was talking to you. 

“Y… You speak coast tongue?” You asked, a little astounded. That was so rare for mers, especially in areas where so few of them resided. Apparently, there had been less than five spotted here in the past six years, which meant that there were none. And yet, you happened to find one on your first day here, and he spoke your language? What were the odds?

“No.” He replied, rolling onto his stomach. You noticed a small fin on his lower back that shivered a bit under the ocean’s breeze. He rested his head on his arm, drawing a pattern in the sand with slightly webbed hands as his eyes took you in. He looked like a big, lazy, content cat. Not a care in the world. There was another flash of merriment in his eyes as he noticed your confused expression, before he gave another soft laugh as you realized he was fucking with you. They really were intelligent beings…

“That’s your hat out there. Right?” He asked, pushing himself up with an elbow, jerking his head in the direction of your floating clothing article. Stupefied, you blinked, merely giving a nod of your head. You didn’t trust your words. Was this a dream? “I can get it for you. If you’d like.” You didn’t know how to respond. All you knew was one thing that kept creeping up in the back of your head: Never trust a mer. This was literally all the signs of a mer trying to garner your attention and lure you in, from what you recalled. Looking alluring. Playing nice. Asking questions. This was the biggest red flag if you’d ever seen one. 

Clearly, he could read the hesitation on your face, and he let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “I don’t have to. I was just offering. Is it so wrong to want to be nice?” Your gaze hardened a bit, and you brought your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. He was still a good fifteen feet away from you. Even if he tried to advance on you, you were certain that being able to run was in your books faster than he could drag himself ashore to you. Well… Mers did have inhuman strength, so… Maybe that wasn’t quite out of the books. 

“Okay. Go get it.” You finally agree, suspicion still heavy in your gaze as you take in his facial features. He looked a bit smug, before rolling over once, and then slid back into the water. Once he was settled in it, he was gone with a whisper, and all was quiet once more. Your gaze found your hat, much further now than it was before. Nothing was happening… Nothing until you blinked, and it was gone. You looked around for any sight of the mer, spotting nothing until you saw the faint glimmer beneath the waves. He broke water as quiet as a mouse compared to the rolling of waves in the distance and on shore, your now sodden sunhat in his hand. You frowned a bit at the sight. “You had to drag it underwater?”

He seemed wholly unimpressed with your comment, frowning himself, a faint look of irritation crossing his features. “You’re welcome.” Is what he replies with, scoffing as he holds it out in front of him whilst he pulls himself back onto the shore. The perturbed look on his face is quickly replaced with another grin as he spies your hesitation. “...If you want your hat back, you need to come get it from me.” He purrs, waving the sodden article in your direction. You grimace, feeling annoyed at the proposition. Of course. That was his game. 

“I’m not an idiot, you know.” You bite out, and he sets the hat down, tilting his head to the side. He has this adorable curl that crosses over his forehead with a few other strands. 

“I never implied you were.” He responds, smiling peacefully, and you glower. 

“Obviously you think I am, though. As soon as I come over there, you’re just going to drag me under with you. No shot.” You insist, and he clicks his tongue, offering an unimpressed roll of his eyes. 

“Really? Come on. I wouldn’t do that.” He insists, rounding his eyes in what you assume is supposed to be a more ‘innocent’ manner. “Why would I go all the way out to retrieve your lovely hat, only to immediately kill you? I think you’ll look lovely in it, wet or not.” He purrs again, curling his lips up once more, and your scowl deepens. 

“That was hardly a swim for you.” Comes your flat reply, body prickling in uncertainty. “It'd probably be the easiest meal you’d ever get.”  “Please, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want to eat you; I’ve already had lunch.” He narrows his eyes, and you shudder softly against your will as you notice the more carnal look in them. “...Unless, of course, you’d like to provide me with a treat. That would be probably the best ‘thank you’ I could get.” You consider that he really is talking about ravaging your body, until you realize his eyes are pointedly staring at your crotch between your pulled up legs. Then, his eyes travel to your lips, before meeting your own. A sudden heat travels through your body that leaves you holding a breath. He takes the opportunity to shift forward a bit more, and that immediately brings you out of your stupor. 

“J-Just throw the hat forward! Please…” You ask, voice trembling a bit from the combination of soft lust and fear crowding your mind. “Thank you for getting it, but I… I can’t… I don’t trust you. Surely you understand.” You insist, one of your hands coming down to grip the towel. His lips come to form a thin line, and you’re not so certain the dark look in his eyes is as lustful as it was before. Your time is definitely up, now, and you quickly scramble to your feet. You grab your earbuds, phone and towel, beginning to walk back the way you came, but his voice stops you. 

“Wait!” Looking back, you see that he’s tossed the hat a couple of feet from him, and he’s pulled himself back just a bit. His tail is further in the water than before, he’s peering at you, gaze brighter than before, but definitely more unreadable. “...I understand your distrust.” He relents, and you hesitate for the third time this meeting, uncertain if you should take the bait. You still had the advantage on land… Is your cute hat really worth risking your life, though?

You look back at him. He’s just watching you now, a sort of benign curiosity over his own features. Maybe… He was just as curious about you as you were him. Clearly he’s had contact with humans before, though. He wouldn’t be able to speak otherwise. This is all a trap. You convince yourself, body stiff as you consider what to do next. You could just order another one… But it was perfect for here and now. You could just buy more in town, though… 

You consider that your life isn’t worth risking over a hat. And yet, you find yourself placing your items on the ground, your feet slowly inching towards the wet article. The mer watches your every move, head low to the ground, and your eyes are following the way his tail twitches beneath the waves. You look at his hands. He’s rested his head on them now. That assuages some fears… Maybe he really wasn’t going to do anything. Was he so bored that he just wanted to see you closer? Use you for amusement? Perhaps. That wasn’t the most egregious sin, though… 

You’re finally close enough to the hat, slowly bending down to reach it, as if trying not to spook him. He doesn’t move. You grab the brim, slowly bringing it up. For a moment, you find yourself just looking at him, and he’s looking at you. He’s even more gorgeous close up, now that you notice all of the little freckles and imperfections that dot his face. The only other ‘imperfection’ you could find, if you could call any of it imperfect(which you really couldn’t), was the small scar gouged into his forehead.

For once, instead of fear or any sort of weird arousal, you feel… Awe. This dangerous, beautiful creature sits not five feet from you, drinking you him as you do him. He has a sort of boyish charm to him that is enough to make you test your own willpower and suppress yourself from reaching forward to brush your fingers through his hair. Comb back those hairs that curl in front of his eyes, brush your thumb across the beautiful scales on his cheek bones… 

Seems you’ve been enthralled, and you’re not quick enough to move as he suddenly lunges and grabs onto your wrist. You cry out in surprise, molasses quickly turning into a rapid stream as you try to pull away, but he’s strong. Dear God, is he strong. “I helped you. The least you can do is return the favor.” He finally speaks up, and that look of wonderment that was in his own eyes has vanished. He looks smug like before, smirk planted as he tugs you a bit closer. 

“P-Please, let go!” You cry out again, trying to wrench free to no avail. 

“I just want one, little thing, then I’ll let you go. I promise.” He insists, leaning up a bit, his eyes flashing with that same dangerous intent as before. When he was looking at you like you were his next meal. His ‘treat’. Another shudder wracks your body against your will, and you bite your lip. “Just a kiss. Only one. That’s it. Please?” He tilts his head to the side, eyes rounding a bit into something akin to a puppy. Oh, no… That was awfully convincing, especially with that heat still in his eyes. 

Okay. You had been a fool once, shame on you. But twice? You were not going to die here today. Most certainly, no kiss was worth dying for, and you knew better than to trust his words, now. His grip was painful, only because he was strong, but he didn’t claw at your arm or wrist, thankfully. 

“...If you let me go, I’ll kiss you.” You finally said, quietly, heart thundering in your chest. He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, eyeing you to try and find any deception. Finally, he pushed himself up a bit more, giving a small incline of his head in agreement. Slowly, he released your hand, letting it come to rest in front of his chest. You were so very grateful that the Lord had granted you the strength to go through with your plan and resist that very kissable face. 

As soon as he released you, you turned on foot and fled. Or, that’s what you tried to do, but he was so fast. He grabbed onto your ankle, jerking you back, and you fell with a painful gasp. A wheeze left your chest as you struggled for breath, but you realized you needed to struggle now to not be pulled into the water. He was beginning to drag you, laughing all the way, and you shrieked in fear, desperately trying to claw your hands into the sand. You were so, so stupid. Why the fuck would you do that? Why did you have to go back for your hat? Why did you have to stand there and admire him? 

“H-Help! P-Please, no! Let me go, let me go!” You shrieked, feeling hot tears begin to roll down your face as fear bloomed through your entire being. You tried to kick and pull, but he was easily able to evade your swats or keep you held tight. Whereas before, with your wrist, he was being careful, he most certainly was not with your ankle. You felt his nails digging into you, and you realized that this probably really was the end. Mers had the capability of releasing a neurotoxin that could easily make your mind and body go numb if enough was administered, and you were almost certain that was happening to you as you felt a cold flush through your system. You didn’t think it was the waves hitting your body, after all. 

“Stop! S-Stop, please, I– I’ll s-stay away, I promise!” You sobbed, feeling the water now up to your chest as you thrashed and pleaded with the mer. You wondered if he’d kill you here on shore, devour the best bits of you and leave your carcass to float along. At least then your family would know what happened to you. Perhaps, instead, he’d drag you further into the water, play with you until you just couldn’t fight back anymore, then he’d pull you down with him and drown you. Would it hurt? What did drowning feel like? All of these morbid thoughts floated into your mind as you fought and twisted and tried to claw at him, but nothing was working. You sputtered as water entered your mouth and nose, and your sob was bubbling as you once again shrieked hopelessly for help. 

This is it. There was a reason you didn’t you never wanted to fuck with the ocean, and yet you did. You had entirely fucked around, and now were finding out. What a fool you were. The shore was becoming further away, and you couldn’t let out anymore loud calls for help with water constantly invading your mouth, but you noticed he wasn’t drowning you. So… He was playing with his food first, then. Maybe you could do something about it. Catch him off guard. Go for the gills, or the eyes, or–

There was a whoosh beneath your body. Another bubbling shriek of terror left your lips, before something emerged behind you. There was an instant chittering of furious clicks that caught your ears, exchanged back and forth as you were tugged and pulled, and you suddenly realized there were two of them, now. Fuck. How many more were there? 

You expected to feel the rip and tear of your flesh, likely being fought over for food, but instead found the pressure around your ankle disappearing. You flounder, still feeling too paralyzed with fear and a hearty dose of adrenaline to make your limbs coordinate with what you wanted to do. There was a hiss, before you cried out again as an arm was wrapped around your torso, pulling you to another slick body. You fought and kicked, but all you stubbed your foot into was pure muscle of another mer tail. 

“Stop fighting me, please! I’m going to help you back to shore.” The voice piped up, sounding both a mixture of weary and fearful itself. 

“I can take her back; I was just messing around! I swear, I wasn’t gonna kill her!” Came the other mer’s voice, and although you noticed they sounded eerily similar, you pinpointed that one as the one that had dragged you. You fought and pushed against the mer holding onto you, but you did notice that you were being brought closer to the shore. You paddled as well, partially in an attempt to get away, partially to try and go faster, you figured. There was no response from one you were close to, but there didn’t need to be one. Soon, you felt your feet hit the sand, and you instantly pushed yourself away from him. 

It was a big of a slog to get through the water at your hips, but you managed probably the fastest you had ever done. You almost tripped once, but finally made it back to shore, chest heaving and ankle burning as you glanced behind you. You could see the mer that had dragged you out in the distance, a look of something akin to frustration on his face. What shocked you the most, though, was the mer that had taken you to shore. 

He looked just like the other mer. Identical down to the eye and hair color and facial features. The only real difference you could find was that he looked just a bit more pale, and his overall features were somehow a bit softer, his hair not as wild. You couldn’t see his tail, but from what you could gleam from the scales on his cheeks, they were a lighter blue. He watched you, a concerned look on his face as you backed away. Tears were still streaking down your cheeks, and you fought to keep walking, trembling as he swam a bit closer. “I’m sorry for what he did. If you’d let me explain–” He begins to speak, but you’ve most certainly had enough. 

You turn, leaving your stupid hat behind that got you into this mess in the first place. You have the forethought to grab your towel and phone, because they’re far enough away. You don’t put on your flipflops and don’t feel your earbuds tumble out of your towel as you hurry down the sand. There’s more angry clicks in the background which sends a chill right up your spine, but you don’t look back, even as they recede into the distance and vanish.

[pastelghoul]

Detroit Become Human x Reader anyone?

Been doing a replay of DBH and my cogs have been turning. Is it just me or do we need more x readers for this game T-T I’ve had trouble finding any I like

Might write a couple and see how they go heheh

[hellominibar]

Pinky promise(rk900xreader)

(Probably a oneshot. Warnings: death and killing, anyways I hope u like the story :D ) female reader btw

Song theme: 

Pull The Trigger- Abel Korzeniowski 

The Fear- David Arnold, Michael Price 

Dark Paradise- Lana Del Rey

Black Out Days- Phantogram

Dead man- David Kushner 

Side note! 

(Nines- RK900) 

“Pull the trigger.” I softly whispered. My hand slowly moved his gun directly to my heart. 

“It’s not too late.”

“NO. I’M NOT DOING THAT.”

I cupped his cheeks with both of my hands, our foreheads touching.

“It’s better for everybody” I calmly explained. This is our final memory. The hunt will stop if I die. This ends now. No more suffering. For me and the people I love.

“Remember our promise?” I tried to choke back my tears but it was useless. It shouldn’t end like this, but it has to. We were supposed to spend the rest of our lives living happily. He closed his eyes as tears ran down to his cheeks.

“You have to keep your promise.” I then sobbed in tears, denying to face this dreadful moment. This “special gift” of mine isn’t exactly one. To simply put , as a result of my poor choices, I was doomed. 

An echo of footsteps can be heard from the hallway.

“Do it. NOW.” I glared straight into his eyes, almost begging him to do so. 

.

.

.

After a moment of silence, he looked at me. His eyes filled with anger and resentment. 

He used one hand to wrap around my shoulder, pulling me closer and the other digging the gun on the side of my head. My head touched against his chest as I experienced the feeling of warmth one last time. 

“You are one cruel person __. You truly are.” 

I bit the corner of my cheek, knowing that I shouldn’t have done this. He mustn’t know why I’m doing this.

“Thank you.” Are my last two words as I closed my eyes.

Almost immediately, everything went dark and I welcome death with open arms.

.

.

She softly gasped as he shot her. Her knees gave out and her body leaned against his arm. 

He let go of her body, for her to meet against the cold hard floor. After a moment of silence, he realised, she was dead.

“Nononono.” He muttered to himself as he felt tears streaming down his face. Feeling terrified, he threw the gun to a corner.He felt his throat closing in, not accepting this dreadful moment. 

“Why did I do it?” His realisation only ached his heart even more. 

“I shouldn’t have listened to her. I shouldn’t.” He started hyperventilating. The voices in his head were getting louder and louder.

IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT

WHY DID YOU SHOOT?

His hands covered his ears in an attempt to cover the voices. 

HOW HAS IT COME TO THIS

WHY IS SHE PAYING FOR THIS?

WHY AM I PAYING FOR THIS?

“Make it stop..please” He shakily muttered. 

He took a step back and realised there was another problem to fix.

WARNING

STRESS LEVEL 88%

THIS

WARNING

STRESS LEVEL 95%

ISN’T

WARNING 

STRESS LEVEL 98%

WARNING

STRESS LEVEL 99%

FAIR

He rushed to the corner where the gun was thrown , desperate to end everything. He knew that there is one last bullet in the chamber and brought the gun to his chin. As his fingers were about to pull the trigger, something snapped inside of him. 

Nine’s mind:

Being a deviant means breaking their conscious. Before every android becomes a deviant, they will come face to face with their own fears. Instead, Nines found himself in an empty white room. Suddenly, there are bars surrounding him. He was trapped in his own prison, not knowing what to do. More and more bars are being built. Bars that are higher each time, building bigger and bigger cages. Just outside his cage, there is a red button. He turned and used his hand, in desperation to press the button. Determined to not give up, he tried again. And again and again. Lastly, his arms tried to bend the bars but all his efforts were in vain.

“FUCK” He roared in frustration. It felt so close yet so far. His body then slumped onto the bars, finally realising there’s nothing he can do.He then closed his eyes, finally admitting defeat.

Nines:

At that moment, it felt like his emotions were switched off. His breathing starts to regulate.

WARNING

STRESS LEVEL 97%

WARNING

STRESS LEVEL 89%

STRESS LEVEL 77%

STRESS LEVEL 60%

STRESS LEVEL 45%

STRESS LEVEL 20%

The footsteps were quicker and quicker. Nines took out her gun and placed it at her right hand. Nines then hid himself behind a bunch of boxes

The sound of footsteps soon came into an abrupt stop and nines saw who those footsteps belonged to a police officer. 

Without hesitation, the officer rushed to her side. 

Nines took the time to see her face. Her face didn’t looked troubled anymore. Instead, she looked peaceful, as if she’s sleeping like a baby.

 The atmosphere is now filled with more grief and sorrow. With his back facing against Nines, Nines took the chance, grabbing his gun and somersaulted. He pulled the trigger and shot directly at him. The bullet cut through layers of air before entering into the officer’s head.

M I S S I O N  

A C C O M P L I S H E D

.

.

After 5 minutes, sirens of police cars were heard. As they reached to the building, Hank and Connor jumped out of the car, running recklessly towards the building. After what seems like an endless flight of stairs, they’ve reached to the fourth floor. 

“God damn it.. what happen?!” Hank dropped his gun and grabbed Nines by the collar.

“You fking bastard, WHY DID YOU LET HER DIE?!” Nines cold-hearted expression only made the situation worse. Nines’ eyes then glared into Hank’s.

“We can’t have the best of both worlds lieutenant.” Nines took Hank’s hands off his collar, his words cruel and cold. Witnessing their fight, Connor intervened. 

“Lieutenant, I understand that you are upset.”

“No shit.” Hank spat at the last word, darting his eyes at Nines. 

“But I need you to give Nines and I a moment.” Hank paused for a moment before reluctantly leaving the room. 

Connor:

I grabbed Nines’ arm by surprise to probe his memory. There is something very wrong with Nines. He doesn’t act like.. how a deviant would be.. then it hit me.

What if he wasn’t one anymore? 

But that’s impossible.. 

Just as Nines was about to struggle, I gained access to his memory. 

.

.

I took a step back, with overwhelming diagnostic warnings.

!WARNING!

MEMORY OVERLOAD

I felt a pair of hands holding both of my shoulders as I struggled to breathe. 

“EASY CONNOR, WHAT THE HELL HAPPEN?!” 

I looked down and noticed thirium flowing out of my nose. 

Nines took the chance to run. He took a jump on Tom’s body before breaking the glass. As he rolled on the grass, he picked himself up and ran as fast as he could. Before I could catch up to him, Hank held me back.

“HEY, let him go. We’ll catch him another time.” 

I reluctantly agreed. 

“Come on, let’s get back to my house. We can’t blow your cover now.” 

.

.

UPDATE:

21:00

HANK’S HOUSE 

.

“Oh my god..” Hank didn’t knew what to say. 

It was certainly a lot to take in.

“But I can’t figure out why he didn’t self-destruct. How did he turn back into a machine? I’ve never seen any other androids like that.” 

“Maybe an error in his programming stuff?” 

“Such errors are impossible.” 

“That doesn’t mean it won’t happen.” 

He glance towards Hank before sighing in agreement. 

“Why would she ask RK900 to kill her?” Connor pace back and forth in the living room. As Hank proceeded to get another bottle of whiskey, he laid back on the couch, unscrewing the cap.

“Maybe she doesn’t have the courage to kill herself.” He muttered, and took a gulp of whiskey.

“It’s just…I sense something unusual. In my gut.” Connor abruptly stopped in his tracks, then looking at Hank.

“Lieutenant , do we still have her belongings?”

“It’s still in the house. We haven’t clear up her belongings yet.”

Connor hastily grabbed his jacket and beanie before heading towards the door.

“Connor! Where you goin’?”

“To her house.”

“WAIT, you could get caught. I’ll drive you there.”

“Thank you Lieutenant.” 

.

.

01:00

__’S HOUSE 

“Make this quick Connor.”

“I will Lieutenant.” 

He quickly scanned each room, only to be led with disappointment. 

Nothing? That can’t be. 

I just had to be more thorough.

Fortunately, Connor’s efforts finally paid off. After what seemed like an endless pile of scrap paper, he found the answer to his question. 

Deviancy, such a humane concept, almost just like us humans . Though the issue is that deviants self-destruct when they experience an event which contains a high level of stress. How could one be saved then? What would be the cost? To live with no purpose, existing for the sake of it, waiting for their time of “freedom”

This gives more questions than answers.  Slowly but surely, connor started piecing things together.

 Everytime I look at myself in the mirror, I felt lost. My sense of identity lost for many years now. Im neither a human nor a robot. I don’t belong to either of these categories. I hate it. How I could hear the sound of machinery operating inside of my own flesh and organs. How each day, I could feel the slow painful agony of my flesh slowly deteriorating. 

Connor’s eyes widen in shock. How does he not notice it? And realization dawned on him. 

He was always met with errors when analysing her body health condition. Only hers. He told CyberLife about this, only for them to not believe him. Or maybe.. they had other plans. 

It sounded too bizarre, too absurd. If anything, there’s only one way to find out the truth, by going back to CyberLife once again. He then turned to the other side of the paper. 

There are others like me out there. Inevitably serving to CyberLife. We thought we were free. Sooner or later I won’t be able to control my impulses anymore. People around me will be harmed. I can’t take those voices anymore.

What was she hiding? 

As Connor looked deeper at her belongings , he noticed another worn out book. Flipping over the pages were scribbles of deranged writing. The words, To kill, to control, to conquer. 

She was destined to suffer and atone for her sins in this lifetime. 

[wehaveimagineshere]

Prompt: Reader tries to get Connor to say updog, much to Hank's irritation. Characters: Connor, Hank, Reader

I wrote for a scenario prompt just like this a looong time ago when I ran my own Connor imagines blog years and years ago. I can't find the document for it anymore and I can't remember what my blog was for the life of me to find it, so I figured I'd write it again!

-Ren

~*~*~

The grin plastered to your face as you plop into your chair that afternoon sounds all of Hank's inner alarm bells. Elbows settling almost too casually on your desk, chin balancing on your interlaced fingers, the man can do nothing but squint as your mouth opens.

"Hey Connor?"

The android across from him tilts his head before turning to you. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon." The detective's squint deepens as he swears, for a split second, your lips twitch. "I have a question for you."

"How can I help?"

Pressing your lips together briefly, buying a few seconds to school your face, you say, "Have you ever had updog?"

"Noooooo!" barks Hank, spinning to point at Connor. "Don't you answer that."

A confused tip to the head. "Why, Lieutenant?"

"Because I said so." The finger is then pointed at you. "Don't start this shit."

You gasp, placing a hand over your heart. "Whatever do you mean?"

The look he gives you could wither plants.

"I've never done anything wrong in my life."

"That is bullshit and you know it."

Furrowing his brow, Connor's eyes find yours. "What is--"

"Connor!" Slamming a hand on his desk, you have to bite your lips to keep from breaking. "I swear to god-- Don't respond to her."

Connor's brown eyes dart between you and Hank, concern and confusion deepening the wrinkles on his brow.

Flapping a hand, Hank continues. "Why don't you just, I dunno, Google what it is?"

"That's not productive to a conversation." Connor tilts his head, eyes dropping slightly before lifting again. "It's actually considered quite rude."

"It is quite rude." Crossing your legs, you grin. "You learn things in conversations, Hank."

"Is it a type of dog breed?"

"Goddammit, Connor."

"No, Connor, it's not."

Connor's lips part ever so slightly as he processes his options, confusion growing by the second. Both of you see the moment the decision is made as his face smooths out, eyes clearing as he looks up. Blinks.

Hank takes a deep, soulful breath.

Connor turns to you. "What is updog?"

The groan that leaves Hank is almost loud enough to shake the building.

You nearly launch your chair across the precinct as you jump to your feet, hands resting on your desk as you lean in, the biggest shit eating grin you've ever made plastered onto your face. "Nothing much. Just the sky."

Connor's eyes flick away as he thinks, brows once again furrowing.

"Why am I even here," you hear Hank muttering to himself, dragging a hand down his face. "I need a drink."

Once again you watch it click, Connor smiling slightly as he looks back to you. "I get it." A pause. "That's funny."

"Jesus Christ."

Fighting the hysterical giggles trying to climb your throat, you manage to roll your chair halfway back before losing it.

[faust-the-enjoyer]

About this blog:

-Hello everyone! I'm Faust, I'll mainly be writing reader inserts, gender neutral reader, male reader, female reader, trans reader, or queer reader!. This is an 18+ blog, even if it's sfw, I feel uncomfortable writing about older men to a young audience, if you send an ask and your age isn't in your bio or pinned post etc I'm deleting the ask sorry. (anon is on only for sfw asks and requests, if you want a nsfw request just use the public asks or put in your ask for me to post it without your acc's name or dm me). Feel free to request headcanons etc.

Notes:

Always be respectful, i don't tolerate rudeness.

Please use tone indicators with me if you feel you'll be misunderstood.

I'm a full-time student, so i either leave all requests to write them in the weekends or in weekdays i have time in.

I do not support the American military, if you were/are/will become part of the American army, block me. If you're also pro-Trump, pro-Biden, or pro-Harris block me as well.

Pro-Palestine, anti-zionism.

If you are unwilling to or do not want to see politics, then this blog is not for you.

Here's my masterlist

Note on my age gap and dbf! fics

Note on cod

Note on asks and private messages

Note on anon asks

Important political rant about the cod fandom (please read before interacting with me)

The "lesser evil" is the genocide of Palestinians because you don't value their lives and think yours is more important than theirs. They're my siblings before you ever are.

-characters i write for:

White faced/mask Varre (elden ring)

Keegan P russ (cod)

Logan Walker (cod)

Simon "Ghost" Riley (cod)

Leon S. Kennedy (re4r coded specifically)

* characters i've written for and may right for again if you request:

Hank Anderson (dbh)

Pyramid head (dbd/silent hill)

*poly relationships i write for:

Keegan P. Russ x Logan Walker x reader (polyfidel triad)

* sfw familial stuff

-What i write for:

Fluff

Angst

Nsfw: including kinks/fetishes

Hurt/comfort (beloved😍)

Platonic

Romantic

Found family (also beloved😍)

Kinks/fetish (depends on the kink/fetish)

Relationship fights (platonic/romantic).

-What i DON'T write:

Major death

Miscarriage

Incest/stepcest

Blood (i'm ok with it only if it's not too much, period blood is also fine)

Scat

Modern era (if plot takes place in the past)

Historical era (if plot takes place in modern times)

Minors x characters/ pedophilia

Abortions

Period sex

Foot fetish

Age regression (no hate i just don't know how to write it)

Yandere

Big age gaps (no age under 21 if the fic is romantic or sexual, no younger than 18 in other (platonic) fics) (this is excluding sfw familial fics, in which the reader can be teen!/kid!reader)

Cheating

Hard choking

Hard degradation

Face slapping (sexual context)

Misogyny kink

Spitting kink

Barracks bunny

Throat-fucking

Anything that has to do with tiktok

Sex scenes with piercings

Knife play

-Dni: racists, islamophobes, anti-arab people, fascists, queerphobes, transphobes, zionists, antisemitic people, pro-life, minors, exclus, ai users, ableist, fatphobes, anti-kink/fetish, pro-trump, pro-biden, pro-harris etc.

-If you want me to write about something but don't know if i'm ok with writing for it just ask or private message me!

-Feel free to request headcanons and one shots etc!

-Everything will be tagged.

-(multi color dividers by saradika-graphics, light yellow divider by vase-of-lilies)!

Have a great day/night! ⚘

[empressofthesunwriter]

DBH Case File: Deviancy 001

As a single mother and dedicated police officer, Serena's priorities are clear. Her work with her partner Hank to solve cases of android deviancy becomes even more interesting when Cyberlife sends a handsome young android to assist them. This leads to some interesting questions about love and relationships, especially as Serena's daughter Cassia seems to have taken a liking to the new android and demands he be her father!

Hello and welcome to my story 10000000 or so XD

I’m like this, I write a while for one fandom, till another grapes me.

I recently replayed Detroit Become Human, to get the Trophies I missed and well I fall into the DBH Hell.

I wanted to first make this Reader-Insert for all of us ninety babies who will be in their 40s when Android are around, but it didn’t quite work, so I made Serena and her family.

She may be a self-insert XD

Okay, she is a self-insert :(

Please don’t kill me.

I hope a lot of you will like what I will do with the story and the changes I have planned.

I can already tell that Alice will be human, no stupid Android Plottwist and Markus and Simon will be a pair. :)

Also, maybe one day when I finish this fic I will try to make a Reader-Insert based on it.

But first I write this version. ^^

Also before I forget I will change the timeline since it doesn’t make sense that all happens in like three days?!

So please enjoy and leave some comments.

Case: 001

NOV 5TH, 2038

AM 8:00

Winter has arrived in the Metropolis of Androids, also known as Detroit.

Forty-four-year-old LT. Serena Di Martino enters her workplace, one of Detroit's police stations, humming a soft tune.

In one hand she had a box of doughnuts in the other a cupholder with two coffees.

"Morning, Serena!", greeted the young police officer Chris Miller sitting on his desk.

"Hey, Chris! How is the little one?"

"Oh he grows and grows and it's just amazing!"

"You are dead tired right?"

"I think I hear colours..."

This made Serena snort and she held out the doughnut box to Chris.

"Take one. I understand you, Cassia didn't like to sleep at all."

Thankful Chris takes a doughnut before asking her how her daughter is doing. 

Proud Serena told how Cassia won the Science Fair at her school.

Chris gave his congratulations and told her to greet Cassia from him. 

She promised and sat down at her own table.

Of course, her partner (and dad-like figure) Hank Anderson was not there.

Probably drank himself silly and is either still at Jimmy's Bar or on the floor of his house.

Serena signs, rubbing her temples.

Once she hunted Hank always down when she was young and new, but now...she loved Hank, he was like family, but she couldn't help someone who didn't want help.

When Cassia first was born, it seemed Hank got a spark back.

For a while, he had stopped drinking, but always the anniversary of Cole's death brought him back to the liquid death.

So she decided to just work on their case files.

That Hank would chance, was just a possibility as she found a spouse and good parent for Cassia.

She took a sip from her coffee and started to work.

At Lunchtime she was nearly done with the cases they were behind, so she called home.

Cassia picked up the phone.

"Mama!"

"Hey, my angel, how are you?"

"I'm good, I did already my homework."

"That's amazing. Are you a good girl for Mrs. Francis?"

Mrs. Francis was the old lady who lived beside them, an ex-teacher and now boosted her pension with babysitting.

"Mother I'm nine years old, don't treat me like a child.", pounded Cassia.

Serena laughed.

"Even when you are as old as I am I will see you as my little girl."

From Cassia came a groan.

"You will understand if one day you want children."

"If you say so...Mama, Mrs. Francis is calling me, she wants me to help her finish the cake."

"Oh, you made cake?!"

"Chocolate cake, Mama."

"You two are treasures."

This made Cassia laugh.

They talked till Lunchtime was over and Serena had to go back to work.

It was nearly time for Serena to return home when she heard someone calling for her.

"LT. Di Martino?", said a gentle and pleasing voice.

Serena turned around and her brain short-circuited.

A handsome young man stood before her.

He had brown hair, like her, with a cheeky lock falling in his by the god's sculpted face with soft brown eyes.

He was tall and lith and...way too young for her.

Serena gave herself mentally a slap.

The man could be at most twenty-five and she was forty-four.

She didn't prey on younger ones.

Pretty Boy continued to talk, but she heard only swoosh.

"Excuse me, can you repeat yourself?", she asked him. "I'm a bit tired and I didn't catch all."

"Of course, ma'am. My name is Connor. I’m the Android sent by CyberLife."

It was like a record scratch.

Android?

Now Serena looked really at his clothes.

Yep, Android with blinking LED even.

Oh god, she had lusted over a machine?! 

It would be like if she lusted for her Dildo!

Was she a pervert?!

This question had to wait for a more important one.

"Well, Connor from CyberLife, why are you here?"

"You and your partner LT. Hank Anderson, were assigned a case early this evening. A homicide, involving a CyberLife android. In accordance with the procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators.", explained Conner calmly.

Serena fixed her black glasses, nervous.

"I didn't get a new case fill...", she trailed off and moved to Hank's computer. She knew his password, so she could check. "Ah, yes here it is. Since Hank has seniority over me, he has got it."

The brunette woman turned to the (sexy) Android.

"And CyberLife send you as help?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm their most advanced prototype, equipped with all the necessary programs and functions to help the police with their work."

Till the day she did Serena would lie about how she thought about if he had a dick, like sex androids.

"Well, I wanted to go home, but this case has priority. Please wait here, I need to call home to tell my daughter it will be late again."

"Of course, ma'am."

Obedient, like to good little mascine he was, he waited at her table, while she called Cassia.

Her daughter was not happy about it, yet she was used to her workload.

Mrs. Francis, as always, would stay the night with Cassia.

Knowing her daughter was in good hands she returned to Connor.

The young Android looked curious (could a machine be curious?) at her pictures.

"Come on, we need to find Hank. I have a feeling I know where he is."

"Your daughter looks like you just her eyes are blue. From her father?"

Serena shrugged her shoulders.

"Blue eyes are in my family, so she could have gotten it from her grandfather. When I picked the donation I didn't really care for eye colours."

Well, an Android could be stupified is what Serena learned.

"Oh, you had artificial insemination."

"I never had a relationship, but I wanted children, this was the only way. Our nation doesn't let singles adopt children."

She shrugged her shoulders again.

Awkward silence was between them.

Android could be awkward too.

Interesting.

"Come now, Conner.", she waved, so he followed her. "My car is just outside."

/*/

NOV 5TH, 2038

PM 11:21

The drive to Jimmy's Bar was quiet.

Maybe talking to a woman about artificial insemination was not written in Connors's program.

Well, Serena enjoyed the silence.

So she could think about how to explain to Hank how they had now an Android at their side.

Hank hated Androids.

He gave an Android the fault for Cole's death.

Her partner would not celebrate this new gadget they got.

The car stopped before Jimmy's Bar and Serena pointed at Connor.

"You stay here. Androids are not allowed in."

He gave her such puppy dog eyes that she wanted to cuddle him.

No, no cuddling!

Forget this thought, Serena!

She climbed out of the car and entered the Bar.

Greetings were sent her way, as she walked to Hank.

Of course, he was drinking himself silly.

"Didn't come today to work. Chris and I had a bet, I bet you were at home drinking your weight in Whiskey, seems like I lost the bet.", she greeted her partner sarcastically.

With little red eyes, Hank looked at her.

"I thought you stopped convincing me from stopping to drink, 'Rena."

"Don't butter me up with my nickname, Hank. We got a problem."

"What problem?"

It was like the universe wanted to show him the problem since Connor entered the Bar.

Serena groaned.

"I told him to stay in the car..."

"Do you know this plastic asshole?!"

"I had the pleasure of meeting him already."

Connor reached them and introduced himself to Hank.

"Lieutenant Anderson, my name is Connor. I’m the Android sent by CyberLife. I looked for you and Lieutenant Di Martino at the station but only found her. Thankful she knew where you were."

Hank ignored him and turned to Serena.

"What did I do to you, that you bring an Android with you?!"

"Like I had a choice. If he is here, then the higher-ups are okay with him. Other than you, I don't want something in my records.", she sassed back, crossing her arms.

"Shit!"

"You two were assigned a case early this evening.", talked Connor in between them. "A homicide, involving a CyberLife android. In accordance with the procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators."

"Well, Serena and I are a good team, we don’t need any assistance. Especially not from a plastic asshole like you. So just be a good lil' robot and get the fuck outta here.", fired Hank back and took a sip of his drink.

Letting out a huff Serena fixed her glasses.

"Hank, I don't think we have a choice."

He just grumbled at her.

"I understand that some people are not comfortable in the presence of androids but I am-", began Connor only to be interrupted by Hank: " I am perfectly comfortable… Now back off, before I crush you like an empty beer can!"

Connor seemed lost for words for a second before he seemed to have an idea.

"You know what? I'll buy you one for the road. What do you say? Bartender, the same again, please!"

"Smart.", praised Serena Connor.

The Android gave her a charming smile, that maybe made her blush a bit.

But only a bit!

"See that, Jim? Wonders of technology… Make it a double.", laughed Hank. 

After he drunk he said: "Did you say homicide?"

/*/

Since Hank was drunk and Serena didn't want him dead, she swiped his car keys and made him ride shotgun in his own car.

Conner sits in the back seat like a child.

It was kind of cute.

Her own car, drown home alone, and she would later take a Taxi after they finished work.

Hank grumbled all the time stupid plastic asshole under his breath, for which Serena tutted him like a child.

Connor found this exchange fascinating.

LT. Anderson was clearly the older, but LT. Di Martino treated him like her rebellious son.

Maybe because she was a mother?

He read during the car ride all the articles he could find on Motherhood and it seemed a female phenom to take care of the people around you.

Especially after one was a mother herself.

Fascinating, really.

Soon they reached the crime scene.

Hank turned to Connor and told him: "You wait here. We won't be long."

"My instructions are to accompany you two to the crime scene, Lieutenant.", reminds Connor.

"Listen, I don’t give a fuck about your instructions. I told you to wait here, so you shut the fuck up and you wait here."

"You can say it nicer, Hank.", grumbled Serena and followed Hank out of the car.

Not a second later Connor joined them.

A journalist stops them, but they don't give a comment.

They enter the crime scene as a police officer stops Conner.

"Androids are not permitted beyond this point."

"He is with us.", told him, Serena, while Hank asked Conner rhetoric if he could listen.

Connor answer was that Hank order's contradicted his instructions.

"You don't talk, you don't touch anything and you stay outta my way, got it?", told Hank.

"Got it."

Serena just looked at Connor and raised an eyebrow.

And this didn't go against his instructions?

Well, they would see.

They meet up with Ben Collins who gives them the briefing. 

The victim name's was Carlos Ortiz he has a record of theft and aggravated assault. According to the neighbours, he was kind of a loner. Stayed inside most of the time, they hardly ever saw him. His landlord had called the police around eight since his tenant hadn't paid his rent for a few months, so he thought he'd drop by, and see what was going on.

That’s when he found the body.

Serena and Hank enter the house, and the woman nearly throws up.

This smell!

"Jesus, that smell!", gronend Hank, hiding his nose in his jacket sleeve.

"Was even worse before we opened the windows.", told them, Ben.

"I hardly believe it.", mumbled Serena and started to look around.

They looked at the corpse.

"Uh, state he’s in... Wasn’t worth calling everybody out in the middle of the night… Could've waited 'til morning.", wondered Hank.

"I'd say he's been there for a good three weeks." guessed Ben. "We'll know more when the coroner gets here. There's a kitchen knife over here… Probably the murder weapon…"

"Any sign of a break-in?", asked Serena.

"Nope… The landlord said the front door was locked from the inside, and all the windows were boarded up. The killer must've gone out the back way."

Hank hummed.

"What do we know about his android?"

"Not much. The neighbours confirmed he had one, but it wasn't there when we arrived… I gotta get some air. Make yourself at home. I'll be outside if you need me."

And with that Ben left them.

Together Hank and Serena looked at the writing over the corpse.

"I AM ALIVE!", read Serena loud.

"Each letter is perfect… It’s way too neat, no human writes like this.", noted Hank before he turned to Chris. "Chris, was this written in the victim's blood?"

"I would say so… We’re taking samples for analysis."

Serena nodded and looked around.

That's when she saw Connor kneeling before the spilt blood of the victim, putting his fingers in it and licking it!

"Connor?!", she shouted and fought a blush. No, it was not kind of hot seeing his tongue lick his finger! "What are you doing?!"

" I'm analyzing the blood. I can check samples in real-time.", explained the Android. "I'm sorry, I should have warned you."

Hank who had seen also all this and seemed ready to puke told him: " Ok, just… don't… put any more evidence in your mouth, you got it?"

"Got it."

"Fucking hell, I can't believe this shit…can you?", grumbled Hank to Serena.

She adjusted her glasses.

"CyberLife has...erm... interesting ideas."

"Bunch of robot fuckers, I tell you!"

"Hank, now, come on."

They turned back to the victim, and Connor joined them.

"He was stabbed 28 times.", informed Connor.

"So many stab wounds indicate something personal, we can exclude a robbery.", shared Serena.

"Yeah, seems like the killer really had it in for him.", added Hank.

They looked around and found Red Ice, one of the newer and popular drugs.

Hank told Chris he wanted a full analysis of the narcotics.

The unlikely trio walked towards the backdoor, Connor opening it.

"The Door was locked from the inside. The Killer must have gone out this way.", hypnotized Serena.

Connor disagreed. "There are no footprints, apart from Officer Collins' size 10 shoes."

"Well, this happened weeks ago.", reminded Hank. "Tracks could've faded."

"No, this type of soil would've retained a trace. Nobody's been out here for a long time."

Hank moved back into the Living Room, Connor looked around the kitchen and Serena chose to investigate the bathroom.

What she saw after she pulled the curtain from the shower, made her shudder.

Ra9 writing everywhere, a little clay statue with flowers around it.

"It looks like an altar.", she murmurs.

"LT. Di Martino?", called Connor for her and stepped beside her. His eyes scanned the altar in the shower. "Ra9?"

"Do you have something in your Database about this?"

Connor shook his head.

"No, but I think I know what happened."

"Let's go to Hank then and you tell us."

After they joined Hank back in the Living Room Connor explained what had happened.

It all started in the kitchen.

Hank and Serena agreed with him. There were signs of struggle.

The victim attacked the android with the bat.

Yes, this fits with the evidence they found.

"The android stabbed the victim.", continues Connor.

"Self-Defense?", said Serena with crossed arms.

She never heard an Android could act on it.

"Okay, then what happened?", wanted Hank to know.

"The victim fled to the living room."

Hank continued: "And he tried to get away from the android… All right, that makes sense…"

"The android murdered the victim with the knife."

 "Ok, your theory's not totally ridiculous.", admitted Hank. "But it doesn’t tell us where the android went."

"It was damaged by the bat… and lost some Thirium…"

"Lost somewhat?"

"Thirium also known as Blue Blood, it's what makes the Androids work. Even I know that Hank."

"Sorry, that I'm not an expert on tin cans, 'Rena!"

"Anyway!", called Connor in between. "It evaporates after a few hours and becomes invisible to the naked eye."

Serena and Hank looked at Connor grinning.

"Oh… But I bet you can still see it, can't you?", guessed Hank.

"Correct."

"Lead, the way then Connor.", said Serena.

The two human detectives follow after the android, who looks at the Thirium trail, till he reaches the opening to the attic.

Connor, under Hank and Serena wondering looks, takes a chair and proclaims he will check the attic out.

The Android enter it and leaves the two LTs. waiting.

"Think he will find something?", asked Serena.

"Well, he wasn't wrong, but why should the Android still be here?", answered Hank with a question.

"It's not like this Deviants act normal, Hank."

"Touchè, Di Martino."

Suddenly Connor called loudly for them.

He found the Deviant!

Surprised Hank calls for the others.

Well, seemed like CyberLife android detectiv really held what he promised.

[ao3feed-ineffablehusbandz]

purple portals are bad news :(

purple portals are bad news :(

by cinna_moon_star

a fallen angel, a demon and an angel get sucked through a portal...

that sounds like the beginning of a very bad joke but it’s not!

Words: 1246, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Good Omens (TV), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Multi

Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Anathema Device, Newton Pulsifer, Elijah Kamski, Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson, Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900, Reader

Relationships: Crowley (Good Omens) & Reader, Aziraphale (Good Omens) & Reader, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Connor (Detroit: Become Human) & Reader

Additional Tags: Crack Treated Seriously, this fic came to me at 2 am, im combining my two favs which are not in any way related, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Fallen Angels, Reader-Insert, reader breaks the fourth wall, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, gender neutral reader, reader is not human, Fallen Angel Reader

From https://ift.tt/f072Sln https://archiveofourown.org/works/48915007

[gatitties]

Old habits

─Connor & Hank x reader (platonic)

─Summary: some nostalgia hit you and you decide to remember old times, the bad part is that Hank remembered too much.

─Warnings: none

The red and blue lights were the signal that made you accelerate your steps, you hung your backpack more comfortably on both shoulders while you threw a spray can at the nearest trash can as if it were a basketball. You smiled stupidly as you heard the siren of the police car coming and going as you hid and ran like a rat through the alleys of Detroit, you felt like your fifteen year old self.

Using the darkness to your advantage, you took cover for a few minutes in an alley, long enough for the sound of the police sirens to fade away, searching for false clues about your whereabouts. Changing your posture and hanging your backpack on just one shoulder, you grabbed your headphones to walk calmly towards your apartment as if you hadn't graffitied an entire wall without permission from the owner or without checking whether it was legal to do so or not in that place.

You walked watching as children and adults flooded the streets dressed in horror themes, not all of them were certainly something terrifying, but people always like to have an excuse to dress up as anything. Not in your case, at least, not on this occasion, it wouldn't be a nice Halloween when you weren't the one who had to ask for candy but rather give it, and it wouldn't be a nice Halloween when you're the one who's stuck at work all night, you hate and love your work schedule in equal measure, but you've already agreed to it and there's nothing you can do.

You quickly went home to change into your uniform and leave the paint, with no time to waste since to no one's surprise you were going to be late, you didn't even stop for dinner like you usually did before your work shift, although you could always have dinner in the cafeteria there.

You almost tripped when you saw one of your companions with his face painted like a ghost, they offered you some sweets at the entrance and a small welcome as usual, what you did not expect that night was to find Lieutenant Anderson so late there, that old man swore to you that he hated working late, that he'd rather be drunk in a bar than doing reports. But he also swore to hate androids and seems to have adopted Connor like he was a puppy, so you can believe anything.

"Happy Halloween Hank, don't you want candy?"

Despite having just gotten these sweets, offering them never hurts, but Hank just waved his hand denying the proposal, without taking his eyes off of his computer while he typed.

"Yeah, yeah, happy… whatever, I don't like sweets, you can have mine."

"Really?"

Your face seemed to light up at his words, and even before he could give you permission to take them, you already had them in your hands, he shook his head at your childish attitude while a voice in his head murmured “young adults these days.”

You logged into your account, did some paperwork, checked some emails… after at least two hours you decided to take a short break, noticing that Hank was still in his place, although now Connor was also at his side, both of them seemed focused on whatever they were doing, not wanting to interrupt, you walked past them only giving the android a nod in greeting, he smiled slightly at you in response.

Luck seemed to be on your side when upon entering the cafeteria you saw no sign of Gavin, he had been being an idiot lately, that is, more than usual, and it wouldn't be too unusual to find him late going over some paperwork. You looked at the different sandwich options, opting to try a new one instead of the one you usually choose, you also took the opportunity to grab some coffee, your faithful companion would help keep you awake enough even though by now you were used to living like an owl.

You returned to your place and looked for a video on the computer because you are not having dinner without watching something, you finish your dinner quickly, tasting the coffee more slowly, before returning to work you decide to take another look at Hank's site, you smile when you see that he was frowning, annoyed by something, you whistle, catching Connor's attention, who seems to be waiting for you to speak when you exchange glances.

"Why does the old man seem in a bad mood?"

You whisper, hoping the aforementioned doesn't hear you call him old, the android moves a little closer, sliding his wheeled chair closer to your table.

"An old graffiti artist has returned, apparently Lieutenant Anderson started working with small petty crime cases and-"

"And you don't need to whisper so much, I'm still not old enough to have hearing problems." Hank approached both of you, in his own chair, crossing his arms while you tried to hide in some way, his look told you everything you wanted to know "Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

"Yes, you're making accusations too quickly, you don't know if I'm really- I mean, if that graffiti artist is really back, maybe someone is imitating their art, there's a lot of plagiarism in street art world."

"Oh my God, you're not fooling anyone, least of all me, I know you as if I had raised you myself."

Connor was left analyzing the situation confused by the lack of data, he tried to piece together the clues while your conversation with Hank went back and forth in a tightrope fight to prove your innocence. The android studied you carefully, blinking as he looked at your index finger and part of your palm.

"Dry paint?"

Was the only thing he said after seeing your hand, Hank raised one of his eyebrows as you slowly hid your hand, you shot a look at Connor who didn't seem to realize that he had unconsciously give you away.

"Then what the hell are we doing with you, should i arrest you now?"

"Oh, come on Hank! It's no big deal, it's something stupid."

"Something stupid that teenagers do, yeah, are you fifteen again or what?"

"I just thought I would relax a little by painting… it's not like I was committing homicide."

"No, but it can be considered a lesser crime, they can file a proceeding against you for that."

Connor joined once he had all the related data, doing a quick search for your artist pseudonym and the areas you had previously been painting in when you were young.

"You're not helping me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize."

Both you and Hank said in sync, you looked at each other one last time before he sighed tiredly, he didn't have the desire or time to deal with old habits, he was the only one to discover that his internship student was the one that was doing so much street art at that time, anyway, you promised him that you weren't going to do this every day, you just felt nostalgic when passing by a paint store and decided to treat yourself now that the police were more attentive to Halloween pranks than small graffiti vandals.

The topic remained there when Fowler left his office, about half an hour later them got up, You moved your head away from the monitor, watching suspiciously as Hank put on his jacket to finish his shift.

"Are you leaving so soon? You could give me some company, I will die of loneliness."

"Oh you're not alone, I think you'll survive."

Hank pointed to a couple of officers who were in their booth or in the cafeteria.

"Whatever, then get out now."

You pretended to be angry, crossing your arms, frowning and looking away, though it only lasted a few seconds when he spoke again, Connor just watching the interaction.

"You know, if you're going to go back to your old ways, I'd rather you dress up and do those teenage things, you know, those… um, imstagarm? before you go back to your petty criminal stage."

"Oh- please don't remind me of that time, the way I dressed and acted has to be erased from all the memories of the people who saw me, as well as all my posts on social networks."

"Wow, I would never have thought you had that style, it's… very different from the current one."

Connor rejoined the conversation after searching your old social media, you thought you had gotten rid of all embarrassing content, but you more than anyone knew that the internet does not forget or forgive, you grabbed Connor's shoulders to shake him.

"Can you stop looking for information about those things? It's too embarrassing!"

Hank laughed, pulling you away from the poor android, you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, they said goodbye to you as if they hadn't made you remember a time in your life that you preferred to keep in a drawer deep in your mind, although before Connor walked out the door, he turned to you, seeing that you were still thinking about those years.

"By the way, your art is really original, you should think about asking for permission to paint murals, there are also stores that request services of that type, at least they won't be able to fine you that way."

Momentarily forgetting the chaos in your memories, you smiled at Connor, thanking him for his opinion and advice, although he had to leave because Hank was getting impatient outside, you quickly said goodbye as you went back to having a conversation with an expert, namely yourself about you from the past and your old ─and some strange─ habits, coming to the conclusion that you would pretend that years didn't happen in your life and you went from thirteen to twenty-one in a year, yes it would stay that way.

[vaxreed]

Hank/Male!Reader

Confidence Booster (24479 words) by celestialassassin Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hank Anderson/Reader, Hank Anderson/Original Male Character(s) Characters: Hank Anderson, Reader, Male Reader, HR400 "Traci" Android(s) (Detroit: Become Human) Additional Tags: android sex worker, Sex Worker, Self Insert, Male self insert, hank has some self esteem issues, male android reader, Outdoor Sex, Oral Sex, Barebacking, Top Hank, Bottom Hank, bottom reader, top reader, Wall Sex, Bathroom Sex, some gavin teasing Series: Part 2 of Detroit Boys/You Summary: Your new client is an older man with more than a few issues to say the least. He's also a Lieutenant for the Detroit Police Department. He needs a bit of help and you're more than happy to offer him assistance. Male Android!Reader/Hank

[steamy-linguine]

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY (RK800 x Reader)

A/N: I cannot even begin to explain why I’ve been gone for so long but I felt like writing something so I did. It’s not much but I thought a little fluff wouldn’t be too bad (: P.S. any requests I will be getting to!

Warnings: Cuteness

It had been another typical Saturday morning for the RK800. He had Sumo on the leash who was trudging beside him, mouth open and panting with his tongue hanging letting Connor know he was clearly enjoying his walk.

Ever since Connor had gotten into Hank’s life, he had been taking Sumo out for early morning walks while Hank slept in from the hangover of the nights previous drinking. Not that Connor being there would stop Hank from a night out, although his night’s weren’t as frequent, Hank knew he didn’t have to worry about taking Sumo out because Connor would.

Connor looked around noticing all of the people who were out enjoying their morning routines, mainly more androids out taking dogs for walks or running errands for their humans.

Connor and Sumo soon approached their usual park where Sumo would usually play. Connor sat down on the bench and removed the leash from Sumo’s collar who barked at him before he took off to run around the field and mingle with other animals. Connor watched curiously as the animals all interacted with one another.

This was Connor’s favorite part. He saw how humans interacted but dog interaction was his favorite. They were all so smart yet so goofy he found it intriguing and amusing only making his love for dogs increase every time they were at the park.

Connor watched Sumo sniff and run around and bark before suddenly he lost sight of the dog. Connor frowned and stood up as he squinted his eyes peering out into the park when he heard it.

“Ah!” A little shriek before the following sound of Sumo’s barking caught Connor’s attention when he found him.

Connor quickly rushed over to Sumo who was on top of someone licking away at their face.

“Sumo!” Connor’s authoritative tone caught the dogs attention as he looked up at Connor and his ears seemed to go back. Connor gave Sumo a glare before he called him to him and Sumo stepped away.

“I apologize for my dog, he tends to get uh-“ Connor’s sentence cut off as he met eyes with the person.

“He tends to get what?” You asked him.

“Oh uh excited. He like’s people.” Connor helped you up and you nodded as you wiped off the grass from your pants.

“No problem. What’s his name again?” You asked him as you bent down to Sumo’s level who took closer steps to you and you began scratching his head.

“Connor.” Connor said.

“His name is Connor?” You asked looking up at him, his LED flickering yellow.

“No, I’m Connor that’s Sumo.” Connor could feel his insides heat up at his mistake.

You laughed, “Well Connor and Sumo, I’m (y/n). Nice to meet the both of you.”

Connor said nothing as he began to look over your features. Your eyes were to fixed on his dog to notice his lingering gaze on you.

Connor had never had anything like this happen to him before. He had only just met you, why was he over heating?

“Well I hate to cut our meeting short but I am on a tight schedule this morning.” You told him and Connor nodded but something in him didn’t like that.

Was he disappointed? Had he not wanted you to go?

You gave him a small wave before you turned but the sound of his voice made you stop in your tracks.

“Me and Sumo are usually here every Saturday morning.” Connor said and immediately began questioning himself why he gave away such information.

You turned to look at him and smiled.

“Huh? Well, maybe I’ll start coming on saturday’s more.”

And without another word you continued to leave the park not even noticing the RK800 watch you leave or the small smile that was on his face.

[foxyarchive]

Glass in the Ocean[P2]

You reconcile about your near-death encounter and spend some quality time with those in your life-- New and old.

- I'm so happy that some of y'all are liking the story so far!! Any comments or general likes really help to boost my confidence for this and mood! I'm excited to bring you all the next chapter in a little over a week! Cross-Posted on AO3!

Warnings: None

Words: ~5.3k

Tags in the comments! Ask to be added to the taglist!

P1 | P2 | P3

When you had gotten back to the house, nobody was home still, thankfully. It was clear that some had come by to drop off a couple of things, or even pick some up, but besides that it was blissfully quiet. That was perfect for you. It gave you time to shut yourself in your room, sitting there on the chair at your desk as you tried to calm the erratic breaths. It felt like there just wasn't enough air, and you felt the presence of more hot tears slide down your face. A shuddering sob left your body as your mortality finally sank in; You had almost died. You could have died. That certainly could've been the end of your story, once and for all, and all because of your own stupidity. 

It made you sob even harder, putting your head in your hands as you curled in on yourself. Your ankle was stinging, and so were your eyes, but nothing hurt as bad as the ache in your chest at the staunch realization of how close you’d come to facing your own doom. With all the crying that tears from your mouth and throat, it’s a miracle you’re able to hear your alarm on your phone go off. It gives you a pause, your sniffling and weeps coming to a halt as you look over and spy what it’s for. Fuck. Dinner. That’s right. 

“Shit.” You whisper out, hastily wiping the tears off of your face. You need to be at the restaurant in an hour. There’s no way you’re going to make it on time. You shoot off a group text to your family, letting them know you were going to be late, and hastily tried to pull yourself together. You headed into the bathroom, splashing your face with water and taking the time to clean it, before you readied yourself. 

It was getting late, now, and cool air was finally gracing the beach. It gave you an excuse to pull on a pair of leggings, taking time beforehand to dress your ankle and wrap it in gauze. Examining the injury, you noticed that the claw marks actually weren’t too deep. They were little scratches more than anything, although where they had dug in did bleed. You also discovered that you didn’t feel woozy, or tired, or on the verge of passing out at any moment. You felt… Normal. He really hadn’t injected any venom into you. 

You can still hear his words echoing around your mind as you wrap the gauze after cleaning. I was just messing around. Your lips curl down, scowling as you bite back more tears. Well, if he was being honest about that, it was fucked up. It made you feel more angry than anything else. What kind of sick joke was that? Pretending like he was going to kill you? You began to tremble again as you finished and dressed yourself, but it wasn’t in fear this time. It was anger. Mers were sick and twisted. You could see why it was easy for someone to fall victim to them, though. After all… You almost had. 

Once you were finished getting yourself ready, you headed out, hopping on the electronic bike that you were going to be using for your stay here. Your grandmother had a car, of course, which you’d probably use on occasion. The bike was sturdy, though, faster than normal due to being electric. And with the maneuverability of an ocean town, even if it was a bit far from the home, biking would be better. It’d get you some exercise, too– Hard to do that when you’re stuck behind a computer screen all day, working. 

You head into the town, trying to shake off the earlier encounter. It was extremely difficult, though, as every little push of your leg downward on the bike petal, you were reminded of it. You couldn’t get the face of the mers out of your head, either– Twins! How sorry that other mer looked when he asked to explain, and how you’d just fled instead. You didn’t regret it, of course, you weren’t keen on being tricked again, but… To see the concern and guilt on his face. Almost like he was the one who did it instead of his brother. 

You give a shake of your head, trying to dismiss that notion. It was all just a game to them. Not even a game– Survival. After all, they wanted to kill you so they could eat. There were plenty of fish in the sea, but you were sure that humans probably had some very enticing nutrients compared to them, which is likely why they were hunted. After today’s encounter though… You were suddenly uncertain. Maybe they really were just cruel and hunted for sport. To think, the only reason you’re alive is because one of them had been kind enough to stop another. For what, though? Was it to lure you into a false sense of security so you’d be back? Hah. Fat chance. You weren’t going anywhere near those waters again. 

You took a moment to wonder if you should alert the local authorities of mer sightings. That would probably take care of them real quick, or at least spook them away. Then again… They were just trying to live their life. You had no reason to really go into the ocean again; You didn’t like swimming that much, after all. Other people could be endangered, though.

Your mind was a storm as you arrived at the restaurant, parking outside and locking the bike before you headed in. It was right on the boardwalk as well, and you enjoyed the cooling atmosphere and the breeze on your face as you sat outside with your family. Your grandmother had finally finished tying up loose ends for the day and joined you all. You got to enjoy some delicious food, sipping on your favorite drink as you enjoyed the evening with your family. They were staying at a local hotel, but you knew they’d leave early morning. You were going to have another day of rest and exploration around the town tomorrow, but then after that? It’d be time for work– Only for the glass shop, though. You still had another vacation day from your actual job. 

Full of good food and tired from today’s events, you suddenly wished that you hadn’t biked all the way out here. Thankfully, your grandmother offered to give you a ride back, and you hooked the bike onto the back of your car. You still had some time to digest, though, walking around the little beach city with your family for another hour, window shopping and sifting through any shops that were currently open. You bought yourself a cute little trinket, and finally parted ways with your family after some hugs, kisses and well wishes. 

You were grateful to finally be back at your home away from home, though. It was dark now, and although it was still relatively early, you figured you’d just go to bed and start the day early. Miraculously, when you’d been out, you’d managed to push all thoughts of the mers out of your mind. Getting out of the car, though, you glanced towards the ocean after you’d shut the door. In the gleaming moonlight above, you could’ve sworn that you spotted the flick of scales and a tail curl back down into the water. It was enough to make your heart speed faintly, which made you quickly take your bike down from the back of the car and hurry inside. 

“Is there anything else you need for your room, dearest?” Your grandmother’s voice draws you out of your thoughts, and you desperately try to lower your pounding heart rate. You know your grandmother is perceptive, but she doesn’t seem to catch on, thankfully, also appearing quite tired after the long day. 

“No, I’m– It’s perfect. Thank you.” You finally respond, forcing a small smile to creep across your face. You want to disappear into your room and sleep, but there’s this forlorn look on the elder woman’s face as she gazes towards the living room sofa. Your grandfather had died two weeks ago, cremated and ashes spread to sea today. Although this wouldn’t be her first night without him, you were certain everything felt more real, now. “Do you want to watch a show? I hear that a new baking one premiered tonight.” You offer a suggestion, quietly, coming forward to place a hand on her shoulder. It’s one of her favorite things to watch, and you’re quite partial to it, too. She startles a bit, as if not expecting you, but turns her head towards you and offers you a small smile. Her soft, cold hand comes to rest upon your own. 

“I… That would be lovely. Let me get us a drink while you set up.” She suggests, and the smile you offer this time is more relaxed as you nod. You settle on the couch, turning on the television and flick to the appropriate channel. She comes back with two wine glasses and a bottle of rose she had stocked away, and you pour each of you a glass after you’ve opened it. The show begins, and you take the time to watch with her. It’s a fairly typical baking competition program, but you still find yourself enjoying it, especially as your grandmother pipes up with various comments. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t bake that with such little time.” Was one remark, along with, “My, my, her technique is so strange… There’s a much simpler way of doing that.” There was even a bold comment from her, saying, “I could easily do that.” That brings a laugh and reassuring agreement from yourself. Two episodes air in a row, and you watch both of them together, the bottle a little over half gone. By the time it’s over, you’re both exhausted, and after a hug and kisses on the cheek, you put everything away and get some rest. You sink down into your bed after changing into nightclothes, shuffling around for your earbuds to listen to some music before heading to sleep. 

It’s with a grumble and start, though, that you realize they must’ve fallen earlier when you grabbed your towel. A groan leaves you at the thought, and you rub your eyes, looking out the window. You eye the moonlit sky, listening to the calming sound of waves from the opening in your window. Too lazy and tired to shut the blinds, you turn over, finally managing to fall asleep. 

It’s dreamless until the very end. You feel like you’re suspended in water, floating through a viscous liquid more closely resembling amber. Your movements are slow, and each push of your limbs are tedious. There’s clicking all around you. Unseen voices whispering with hints of laughter. Something brushes your ankle. You flinch, scarcely. There’s a tug at your hair. A nip at your thigh. You try to move, but the water is thick and suffocating. Hands grip your hips, and a head comes up, pressing sharp, tender kisses to the front of your neck. You try to move your head to view the culprit, but you’re just too slow, and they’re too fast. 

A tongue runs along the front of your throat, before there’s a searing, all encompassing pain as it bites down. It’s not a lovebite, either. You can feel your flesh tearing, skin breaking, and blood begins to billow around you as you scream out. Nothing comes out, though, and nobody is here to save you this time. 

You wake with a start, heart hammering so hard in your chest you think you’re going to pass right back out again. You sit up, drenched in sweat, and try to take slow, deep, calming breaths. You clutch at your shirt, closing your eyes to try and ground yourself with the sensations around you. The fabric of your shirt. The sound of mourning doves and the sea. The faint smell that comes from the kitchen, something cooking. Your mouth is clammy, the faint residual taste of rose left on it. You finally pry your eyes open, peering at your covers and the sunlight filtering through. You can see specks of dust floating in the air, and you take the time to follow various ones until they float to the ground. 

At some point, you’ve finally calmed down enough. Your heart isn’t pounding anymore, and your breathing isn’t erratic. A shaky sigh leaves you as you flop back down in bed, pushing hair out of your face. Yeah. You were probably never swimming again. Not in the ocean, at least. For a moment, you lay there, listening to the doves croon and the waves lap at the shore. It’s only when your stomach lets out a mighty growl do you finally decide to get up. After a lovely stretch, you’re on your feet, shuffling into the kitchen with a yawn. “Good morning, dear.” Your grandmother greets, pulling out a delicious looking waffle from the waffle maker. She’s also made some other sides, which you eye eagerly, especially the fruit salad. All of the fruit looks so fresh and vibrant. 

“Good morning. Thank you for breakfast!” You smile, sitting down as some comes to sit with you after bringing over the plate of waffles and syrup. 

“Of course. You’re going to have a long day today, out and about in the town. I hope it’s relaxing, and maybe you’ll even meet some new people you can befriend while you’re there.” She insists, causing you to chuckle at the thought. 

“Maybe. It’d be difficult to leave, though, if I made any good friends.” You muse, piling your plate on with various breakfast items. She just smiles, tutting and giving a small shake of her head. 

“With how the internet is nowadays, I’m certain you can keep in contact. You could always move here as well, if you were interested. I wouldn’t mind having a permanent roommate.” She suggests, and you hum contemplatively at the offer as you begin to stuff your face full. It’s certainly a thought… Plus, it may even be cheaper than your current place of residence. Even so, you like being around more city or suburban areas. It’s what you grew up with, and you couldn’t imagine anything else right now. 

“I’ll think about it. Quite the kind offer.” You reply after swallowing. The rest of breakfast goes by quietly, and after you’re finished eating as well as helping to clean dishes, you decide to head out. Your first order of business is going to get your earbuds. Although the thought of being anywhere down near that shore again makes an array of goosebumps flush over your skin, you decide that if your earbuds dropped anywhere, it would be far away enough from the shore. You’d be safe. Part of you wishes you could take someone with you, but that was a fruitless thought. Your grandmother couldn’t make that trip down there, so you had to put on the big pants and do it yourself. 

It was shaping up to be another warm day, so you decided to put on a flowy shirt and some shorts. You showered, re-dressed your wound, and got yourself ready. After pulling on another pair of flipflops, you were almost out of the house before you heard a gasp. Looking over, you saw your grandmother peer down at your ankle, and that’s when you remembered the gauze there. You’d forgotten about it, even if you had rewrapped it not even five minutes ago. “What happened to your ankle?” She fretted, walking over to you. You hesitated, taking a half step back, shifting from foot to foot. 

“I… Went down to the beach yesterday and… Accidentally scraped my foot against a rock.” You lied, and why did you lie? Were you embarrassed about it? Surely not, but… Well… Okay, perhaps a bit. After all, the only reason you almost did die was because you were dumb enough to waltz forward up to a mer. You realized that you were still keeping quiet about it, though, when you’d thought about reporting it to the authorities. You should just tell her the truth. Maybe she knew who to talk to about it. This could save lives. 

“Oh, you poor thing. Can I take a look at it? I have some cream that could help.” She offers, holding out a hand. Although this is the perfect opportunity, you find yourself stepping back again. Why aren’t you being honest?

“N-No, that’s fine! I’ve already cleaned it and dressed it for now. It will be okay. Thank you, though.” You smile, meekly, grabbing the bike key. She offers you another worried look, but doesn’t press. 

“If you’re certain. Have fun today, and call me if you need anything.” She says, and you thank her before taking your leave. You’re still trying to fathom why exactly you hadn’t been honest as you make your way back down the stairs, hesitating as you near the bottom. All you can see in the water right now is… Well, nothing. Just vast blue as far as the eye can see. Your steps are still hesitant as you touch down on the sand, and you decide to take your sandals off for easier walking. It’s still early out, the sand retaining the cool morning air, but it feels nice to squish between your toes as you head back down to where you were yesterday. 

In the distance, you can spy the alcove you had settled near, as well as your flipflops. Your sunhat is nowhere to be seen, though. Probably blew away again. Well, whatever… Probably for the best. You’re not sure you’d ever wear that thing again anyways. Now comes the fun task: Finding your earbuds. You grab your other shoes and set your current ones aside, settling on your knees as you sift through the sand. You manage to find one easily, but the other is giving you trouble. Focused in your task, you don’t see something rise out of the ocean in your peripheral vision. 

“Hey!” A voice calls out, and you gasp, nearly dropping your one bud. You look over, and it’s that same mer from yesterday. You instantly begin to feel your heart drum faster, and you get to your feet, ready to flee again despite him being over fifteen feet away and only half on the shore. “Don’t leave, please! I’d like to talk to you.” You notice that he sounds awfully more polite today, and when you take in the sight of what you can see from his tail, that’s when you realize; This isn’t the same mer. His blue is brighter. A little more vibrant, with seafoam green patterns that shimmer in the soft sunlight filtering through the clouds. 

Upon further inspection, you notice that he even seems a little nervous himself. He’s smiling, but it’s tepid; Uncertain. Where he holds himself up, you can see a finger tapping anxiously into the sand. He looks ready to dart, but not at you. Away from you. There’s a tension to his muscles that screams he’s not sure if he wants to be here, but more that, perhaps, he’s forcing himself to be. It doesn’t completely lower your guard, but it does give you a pause from immediately fleeing. Your own muscles are tense, though, and you slowly turn fully back towards him. You crouch once more, near where you had been. His muscles don’t relax, but you see his face soften more. Less concerned, now. 

He takes a moment, then, as if he’s suddenly unsure about what to say. You most certainly don’t speak up, wringing your hands together anxiously as you wait for something to happen. Anything. “I, um…” He starts, now suddenly seeming a lot more nervous as he takes you in. “My name is Connor. What’s yours?” He finally introduces himself. You just peer at him, wondering how a mer has such a common human name. It’s awfully strange. 

You finally offer your own name, quiet, but loud enough to carry over the breeze. He repeats it, smiling just a bit wider, and you find your heart picking up speed again for an entirely different reason this time. “Listen, I just wanted to apologize for my brother’s actions yesterday. It’s… Not often at all we get to interact with humans, and I think he just got a bit too excited.” The smile falls from his face, more into a grimness. “That doesn’t excuse what he did, of course, but I just want you to know that he truly didn’t mean any harm.” You’re not quite sure you believe him, and clearly that thought reflects on your face, because Connor’s face falls just a bit more. 

“We don’t kill humans. I swear on my life. We really, barely interact with any.” He promises, face serious, head bowed a bit, although his gaze still holds yours. There’s a lot of questions on your tongue that you have, but you’re trying to choose the most important one right now. After all, time may be limited. This could be a trap. What if one flew out of the ocean and dragged you in? 

It’s a glaringly preposterous thought, but there have been rumors that mer were able to shift and form legs. If that was true, one of them could creep up on you in the sand without you knowing. 

…What a silly idea. There’s no way. Right? 

If you’re feeling unnerved, so is Connor by the look you see on his face. He is apologizing… Mers will trick you. It comes floating back to your mind. Your hand grips your shorts. You finally ask at least one of the questions on your mind. 

“How do you know coast tongue so well?” You ask, and you can see his shoulders droop a bit in relief that you actually are talking to him. 

“We have a good human friend. He took care of us after we were… Left our home.” He looks like he’s choosing his words carefully, at the end. You squint. Was he lying? “He lives nearby. Has a home on the coast like yourself.” He glances over yonder, and you look that way also, up the cliff, but don’t spot anything. Must be more secluded and further out, then. Your eyes are drawn back to the water as you hear a hiss, and the telltale sound of clicking. You feel your blood pressure spike up as another figure emerges from the water, and boy is he imposing. 

You notice immediately that he looks also very similar to Connor, except his complexion is paler. He’s broader, with darker hair and cold, distrustful stormy blue eyes. His jaw is sharper, and the scales on his cheeks are darker as well, but you can’t see any of his tail as only his shoulders and above are not submerged. He doesn’t look mad, but he certainly doesn’t look friendly. You’re still a decent distance away, but even you can feel the icy glower he’s giving you. Connor looks down at him, looking a bit exasperated, and the figure disappears back into the water with a silent ripple. “...That’s my other brother.” He explains, and suddenly you’re on edge. How many more were they?

“...Are there more than just the three of you?” You ask, worried, and he shakes his head. 

“It’s just us. Other mers don’t like to come around here. Awhile back, sealife population was scarce, which meant for more difficult hunts. It’s repopulated since, but others still stay away.” He explains. Well, that would explain a few things… You could only hope that distant pods wouldn’t catch wind of it and come swarming back over. Three mers was enough, even if some of them seemed… Well tempered. You’re surprised to find that you’re a little more relaxed, now. Your heart has calmed since the other mer swam away, and ponder about what he had said to Connor. He seemed upset. What were you talking about? Oh, right. The human. You wonder if that had anything to do with it. 

“What’s the human’s name?” You ask, curious if he was known around town, or even if your grandmother knew him. “The one that takes– Or, took– Care of you.” Ah, that must have been it. You can see uncertainty crawl back onto the mer’s features, and he shifts a bit in the sand, curling his tail a little further up to reseat himself. Part of you wants to back off. You don’t want to pressure him if he doesn’t want to talk about it… Then again, the other part of you is petty with how you were scared half to death the other day. That, and you still don’t completely trust him. 

“How’s your injury?” He deflects, and you’re certain you see a deep blue fin crest just behind him before slinking back down into the water. That other mer is still around, then. “It’s not too bad, is it?”

“It’s fine.” You reply, a bit stiffly, glancing behind you where you kneel. You decide to adjust yourself as well, moving to sit on your bottom, now with your legs in front. His eyes catch onto the wrapped appendage, brow creasing a bit. “He… Didn’t inject me with any venom.” You admit, brushing the sand off of your knees and calves. 

“No. We only do that to prey.” He explains, as if trying to further convince you of his insistence that you weren’t going to be food. You can see a bit of color come to his cheeks. “And, um… For… Other things.” He admits, a little quietly, and you tilt your head to the side. 

“Like what?” You ask, curiosity piqued at how he seems to look a little squeamish now. You see his tail flick up out of the water, softly slapping back down in contemplation. 

“Well… I’m not entirely sure how to say it in coast tongue, but it’s… Potent for other mers, too. It also can be in humans, if injected in lower doses, and not the normal doses we would inflict for… Prey.” He grimaces a bit at the thought, but that doesn’t answer anything. You just stare at him, a little blankly, and he squirms again. “It can be used for, ah… Mating.” He finally decides on, and it takes you a moment to realize what he’s implying. 

“Like an aphrodisiac.” You conclude, and he looks a bit confused. 

“A what?” He asks. You try to put it eloquently, but instead it just comes out a little more blunt than you’d like it to be. 

“It’s something that makes you horny.” Your own cheeks heat up as you say this, but Connor is still looking bewildered. God, you’re putting your foot in your mouth. “It– That’s the feeling you get when you want to mate with someone. When you’re in heat. Kinda.” You explain, hoping he understands, and he seems to. Semblance of knowledge flashes across his face, and he nods his head. 

“Yes. Exactly like that.” Well, that would explain why humans always felt so drugged and tired when they were dosed ‘lethally’. You’d never experienced an aphrodisiac, but the descriptors felt similar. Before you could mull on it anymore, though, it suddenly occurred to you how strange this was. You were sitting here, talking with a mer about how their toxins could apparently be used for sex not even a full day after you’d nearly been drowned by one. Or, at least, caught by one… 

For a moment, you both just sat there in silence, unsure of what else to say. You weren’t keen on getting to know the mers, really, not after your encounter. It seems that Connor’s brother– The one who had harassed you– Must’ve felt the same, as he wasn’t here today. It was just the mer in front of you, and the other one skulking about in the water. You listened to the distant sounds of birds, faintly tickling your ears, and that’s when you remembered the whole reason you came down here. You looked over, beginning to sift through the sand once again for your missing technology. “What are you doing?” He spoke up, resting on his stomach now. He crossed his arms, chin coming to rest on them, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he had anything better to do than lay here and watch you. 

“Looking for my earbud.” You explained, and his head tilted to the side. It reminded you of his brother, with the way that curl drooped down his face. Gosh, he really was handsome… That thought certainly didn’t leave you. 

“What’s that?” His eyes flash in curiosity, and you turn your body a bit to look in a different area. 

“It’s something I use to listen to music.” You pause, glancing at him. “Do you know what that is?”

“I… Do.” He replies, perking up at first, before something seems to cross his mind that stops him from saying anything else. You search more in silence, before he breaks it again. “Do you have a favorite music?”

“Favorite song.” You correct, quietly, brows furrowing in frustration as you can’t find anything still. “I have a few favorites. I can’t choose just one.” You admit. You move your hand more, digging deep until finally you manage to grab hold of it. Must’ve gotten buried from your haste yesterday. 

“Can I listen to one of them?” He asks, lifting his head up, watching you brush and blow the sand out of the bud, trying to clean it out as best as you can. You glance over at him, unable to keep your face away from the curious look in his eyes. Genuine curiosity. It doesn’t look like something that could be faked. If you thought his brother had some boyish charm to him, Connor certainly blew him out of the water with his. 

“...Why me?” You suddenly find yourself asking, frowning as you turn your attention back to him. The look on his face instantly begins to melt away, and you keep firm from trying to backpedal and give in. Now he was certainly a sad, wet puppy. “It seems like… You all try to keep yourselves secret. Secluded. I understand why, but… If that’s the case, why would your brother risk it all by talking to me?” Connor seems to shrink down a bit from the question, curling in on himself a bit, a soft grimace overtaking his features. 

“I… Don’t know. You’d have to ask him.” He says, so quiet that it’s almost carried away by the ocean waves. “He wants to talk to you again, though. Maybe you could talk to him later.” He suggests, perking up a bit, only to flatten some as he sees the unenthusiastic look on your face. You’d have to see if curiosity would get the better of you. 

“...I should go.” You finally declare, getting to your feet. You brush the rest of the sand off, grabbing your two pairs of shoes, and tuck your earbuds away. 

“Will you come back?” Connor asks, and you can’t help but to feel a flare in your chest at the hopeful sound of his voice. You pause after you take a step, sparing a small glance back at him. He looks as hopeful as he sounds, and it makes you hesitate. Uncertainty prickles under your skin. 

“Maybe.” You finally reply, turning and plodding down the beach. You don’t get a response from him, but you can hear shuffling as he drags himself back into the water, disappearing from sight. You spare a glance back as the spot he was once in washes away, hiding any evidence of him.

[mrs-geuse]

Jealousy - Hank Anderson x Reader

Re-posting because Tumblr didn’t let it show up in the tags...

Anonymous requested:  “Can you please write some jealous!hank x reader? Or some Hank x pregnant!reader fluff?”

(I tried to keep this as gender neutral as I could, sorry if there are mistakes!)

Warnings: Language, alcohol use.

Hank Anderson should not be one to judge about public intoxication – and he was not judging. He was worried. This was so not like you.

Connor had been the one you called and that stung. He tried his best to swallow down that jealousy, he really did, but he was so hopeful to come in and play the hero for you. There was something about you that just made him want to play protector, but he knew you’d hate that.

Yet you still called Connor when you got drunk tonight and it was obviously not a call to Hank. Whatever the Hell that meant. What you and Connor had was a friendship and he needed to let that go.

“Hank, they’re at Crazy Matt’s,” Connor’s voice interrupted him as he grabbed his keys from his desk, shouldered on his coat.

“Glad they answered for you,” was Hank’s only response.

“That didn’t happen. Location services are still on their phone. I…noticed from the social media post that was made.”

“Great detective work. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta go get my ass handed to me by your bff.”

Connor had a date tonight and Hank couldn’t help but wonder if your outburst was due to that little fact. Naturally, Hank’s only date was with a bottle when he got home so Connor called in a favor. Of course, he was glad to do it – the three of you were pretty inseparable after you’d met.

So here he was speeding toward Crazy Matt’s to pick you up. Too fuckin’ bad, you didn’t want company. Pain in the ass…

In the small parking lot, he noticed your car wasn’t there and he was instantly cussing because – damn it – if you dipped to another bar, he was going to have to chase you around this city all fuckin’ night.

He slammed the car door harder than necessary and stormed his way toward the entrance. Crazy Matt’s was a pretty seedy place and he hated that you went there. Apparently, you knew the owner or some shit.

Eyes scanning around the bar, he grumbled to himself.

“Can I get ya somethin’?” the dark-haired man behind the counter greeted him.

Hank ignored his interest in what was on tap. “Do you know Y/N?”

The idiot let his expression change, yet responded, “Who wants to know?”

“Look, it’s been a long night, and I’m a friend,” the term stung something in him and the thought he’d like to drown in alcohol. “I just need to know they’re okay.”

He nodded. “Saw them go out back a few minutes ago. Left their drink so I’m sure they’ll be back.”

Hank tapped the bar, nodding in thanks as he glanced at what you’d been drinking.

There was a lot to be said about Hank, but he was not a patient man. A few seconds and he was back outside, glancing down the side alley.

What, had you gone to hook up with somebody? Fuckin’ a…

The sight shocked him.

“Y/N!?” he jogged over because it was all he could muster.

You stopped momentarily, looking breathless and disheveled and…damn it, alluring. But his eyes were instantly on your bleeding knees.

“What the fuck happened?” he almost pulled out his gun just in case something was amiss.

You waved him off, patting him on the shoulder and he stilled at the touch. “Guess I’m not great at running while inebriated,” you answered simply.

“And you were running because…?” during his question, you held his shoulder, balancing so you can pull off your shoe and get the gravel out.

He wanted to wrap his arms around you but instead he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Some jackass stole my wallet,” you waved it in front of you, clearly having gotten it back. You weren’t too flustered but the blood was dripping down your knees and it kinda stung.

You stumbled a little when getting the shoe back on and he was forced to hold you upright, your shirt having slid up just the slightest and his thumb pressed against your bare skin. Hank inhaled sharply, moving his finger as soon as he noticed.

“I’m taking you home,” he responded gruffly.

“Fuck off,” you pushed your hand against his chest but it did nothing to move the big man. “I’m not going home.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, you’re bleedin’ all over the place. I’m leaving and you’re coming with me.”

“No,” you pulled from his grasp, stumbled a little, still feeling your drinks. He caught you and his grip was surprisingly soft considering his voice was gruff.  “Hank,” you muttered, grabbing onto his jacket and sliding your hands up to the collar. You watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed hard. “I’m going in to finish my drink.”

“The drink on the bar?” he managed to question. At that, you nodded. “Yeah, no you’re not.”

“Hank!” you were about to debate with him when he interrupted you.

“-Be pretty stupid ‘a you to leave a drink unoccupied for so long then down it. You know better than that.”

You smiled at that; glad he wasn’t arguing with you for once.

“Then buy me another one, Lieutenant. Let’s enjoy the night.”

Your tone of voice stirred something in Hank and he struggled to speak something coherent for a moment, his mind traveling to some impure thoughts.

“Yeah, sure.”

•••

Hank needed a drink, but didn’t expect to have one at a seedy bar tonight. He’d bought a bottle and was ready to tell everyone else to fuck off on this Friday night, but the change of plan wasn’t terrible.

The anxiety he felt at the moment was overwhelming. It wasn’t often that the two of you were alone, Connor playing a big part in the times you spent together and you both were very aware of that. But you’d become fast acquaintances and he’d grown to enjoy your company.

“Thought you were goin’ to clean up,” he nodded at you as you stayed right beside him at the bar.

“Eh, sure, I will. They got a deal goin’ on tonight,” you wriggled your eyebrows.

“Oh yeah?”

“Two shots for the price ‘a one.”

“Shots?” he repeated.

“Yeah. So…you’re my whiskey guy, aren’t ya?” you nodded at the bartender and ordered some.

“Christ…” he muttered, wiping a hand down his beard.

“Aw, come on, Hank, I know you’re always drinking alone. Live a little,” you gripped onto his jacket again, looking up at him with those eyes and, fuck, was he done for.

“Fine,” he grunted when the glasses come. You clinked the glass with him, smirked, then both slammed back two shots.

The burn was so welcomed right now, he needed something to rid his clouded mind.

“How about you get us another drink?” you sauntered off to the bathroom to wipe off your bloody legs.

And, fuck, what was he doing? He knew you and Connor would go out sometimes, knew the boy wonder didn’t drink with you and you’d sometimes make a comment that Hank should join. He avoided it. Because it was you. Because he knew what he would be like with alcohol around you and, damn it, he couldn’t let his guard down because he’d end up saying something stupid and chasing you off and the three of you would stop spending time together. Not to mention you’d end up doing just what you did tonight – calling Connor over him.

By the time he watched you wander back out of the bathroom, he was halfway done with his drink and had ordered another.

That Matt guy had stopped you and you were chatting with him, laughing at something he said. He knew you two knew each other, but how well and…well, how? Guy seemed kinda seedy, just like the bar.

Not to mention, he started touching you – hand on your shoulder, the two of you started walking toward the bar – and he slung his arm around your neck, kissed your temple, smiling the whole time.

You didn’t seem to mind, but that made Hank mind even more. What the Hell was he doing here? He’d told Connor he would come pick you up, not sit here and watch you find someone to hook up with.

Only you found the table he’d grabbed for you, came back with another round of shots.

“On the house, apparently,” you shrugged. He took one. “Oh, no, you get both. Any more, I’ll be on the floor.”

Hank could handle his booze pretty well, sure. Only he hadn’t really eaten today and the speed that the two of you were drinking…he was buzzed already.

“I need food,” you voiced, reading his mind. “Split a burger and fries with me?”

Hank swallowed back the last shot. “Sure, yeah.” You grabbed a waitress, ordered something. He felt a little loose, a little less anxious. “So, Connor’s date tonight…”

You smiled. “Oh, yeah, how do you think that’s gonna go?”

He’d meant to cast that line, hook you in, pick your brain, but you gave him no indication of discomfort.

“You first.”

You sipped your drink. “I think it’s good he’s getting out there. Proud of him for acting on his feelings, yanno?”

Hank nodded at that, contemplative. “You have anything to do with him finding the courage to ask them out?” That would tell him…

You smiled shyly. “Perhaps. Why, Lieutenant, did you miss your opportunity?”

Hank chuckled at that. “Fuck no. Plastic prick…” he trailed off. “So, what’s got you all fucked up tonight?” he blurted and then, “shit, I’m sorry. That, uh, that voicemail to Connor…”

You were surprised by that, though you knew he was blunt. “No, it’s fine. I…just long week. Stupid shit at work, tired of biting my tongue when people wrong me. Just…felt like I needed a night to be in my feelings.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m just really fucking dull, aren’t I?”

“Hank…why…” you looked concerned for a second. “why do you say that?”

Maybe it was the shots talking or the kindness you showed him, but he admitted, “Thought you…maybe had feelings for the kid.”

“What!?” you almost spit out your drink. “Hank, he…he’s like a brother to me, that’s pretty fucked.” You laughed and he was glad he hadn’t pissed you off, seen your fire. He knew it was there.

“Ah, I’m fucked so don’t act too surprised.” He downed the rest of his drink.

“Cheers to that,” you clinked your glass with his and drank.

“You come here often?”

“What is that, some shitty pickup line?” you laughed and he noticed your eyes flash to his mouth.

“Well, no, just…curious. What’s up with the owner?” he couldn’t help but ask.

You leveled your gaze with his. “Hank,” you started to which he hummed, acted casual. “I’m sensing a pattern here. You worried? Competition?”

“Wh-what?”

You winked at him. “You got nothin’ to worry about, old man. We just gotta leave before…” you glanced at the bar, expression changing.

“Before…?” his slightly-more-than-buzzed mind was slow to the take, that and the flirtatious air about the conversation was giving him some ideas, stirrings in his gut…

“It’s Friday, isn’t it?” you mumbled with a sigh. “They…uh…do this thing…” you started looking under the table and Hank was slow to the take, pressing his arm over his lap as your eyes scanned down there.

“What the fuck?” he felt his cheeks heating up. “Y/N?” Seconds later, you pulled a pink sticker out from under the table. “What the fuck?” he repeated.

“Oh, God…”

A voice came over the loud speaker by the karaoke setup, announcing, “You know what time it is, folks. If I could please have everyone look under their tables for a sticker…” the announcer gave the crowd a second and people around them followed instructions. “Here at Crazy Matt’s every Friday at 8 we do a nice little ice breaker. Hold your stickers high if you’re one of the five lucky tables.”

Y/N sat perfectly still and Hank felt a sense of dread but also…some excitement. You kept looking a little lusty toward him. A waitress was coming by each sticker table and dropping off some salt and limes and vodka…

Oh, shit…

“Don’t be shy, Y/N,” a voice called. Matt, the owner, walked over. “Soon as I saw your friend here sit down, I knew it was gonna be a show…come on, partake. Live a little. On the house.”

“Y/N?” Hank asked tentatively. “What the fuck’s going on?”

“Body shots,” Matt answered instantly. “Every Friday at 8, we treat our guests – if they sit at the right table. Little ice breaker, some free shots, good company…” he eyed Y/N. “I’ll gladly take your place if you’re…”

“No,” Hank found himself answering instantly, to your surprise. The thought of him licking salt off your body, drinking a shot off your skin…Hank had enough of this jealousy bullshit but he was not going to sit idly by.

Matt raised his hands up, nodded, walked away as the waitress dropped the supplies off.

“Hank, you don’t have to…”

“Nah,” he waved it off. “I…why the fuck not? Live a little, right?” he quoted that asshole, was for sure pretty far gone to be agreeing to this, his heart pounding harshly in his chest.

The announcer talked them through the steps as the waitresses cleared off the tables. When was the last fuckin’ time he’d done somethin’ like this?

You looked tentative as the waitress took your hand, helping you up on the table. Hank looked at you, gazed at your body as you laid back, tried to keep his mind focused on something else and not how you looked sprawled out in front of him. The alcohol let his mind wander. And then your hand halted the waitress and Hank’s mind cleared.

“Y/N?” he asked.

“Hank, you are not drinking a shot out of my bellybutton,” you laughed, glancing around at the other customers doing just that. He didn’t know how to respond so he just stood there looking stupid, feeling stupid for agreeing to this if you were just gonna back out. Fuck, he put himself out there just for you to turn his ass down… You grabbed the salt shaker and looked up at him. “Well? How do you think that salt’s gonna stick, Lieutenant?”

It took him a second to register, but he nodded, grabbing the shot glass the waitress brought over. Slowly, he watched you lift your shirt, saw the exposed skin, almost groaned. You handed him the salt shaker and watched with eager eyes as he dipped his head down toward you. The sensation of his facial hair registered first and then his soft lips pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your abdomen. You inhaled sharply at the sensation, biting your lower lip.

Your fingers almost forgot to fumble for the plate of limes, but you managed to as soon as he started sprinkling the salt on you and then his mouth was back to lick it off your skin. You moaned against the lime in your mouth, unable to hold back.

Hank smirked a little, stood up, took the shot. As he swallowed, he leaned down to get the lime, his mouth lingering over yours before biting into the thing, his lips ghosting over yours.

“Annnd switch!” came the announcer’s voice before Hank was even done.

He pulled back quickly, stood straight, pulled the lime from his mouth, then helped you back off the table.

“I, uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“My turn,” you chuckled, stepping close to him, pressed your hands to his belly.

“I am not showin’ my shit in here,” he stopped the trail of your hands toward the hem of his shirt.

You shrugged. “Suit yourself,” and instead moved your hands to his collar, pulling it down slightly.

Before Hank knew it, he felt your lips on his neck, tracing your tongue over the sensitive skin, nipping a bit.

“Fuck…” he mumbled, completely aroused at that point.

You sprinkled the salt on the spot then inched up to put your mouth back, flat tongue lapping it up. It ended before he wanted it to and his half-lidded gaze watched as you slammed back the shot.

Fuck.

He grabbed the lime, put it in his mouth, felt like a complete idiot. When he turned back to you, he felt your hands grip on the back of his head, dipped to meet your lips, stopped himself from grinding his body against yours at this close proximity.

Your lips were on his, no shame, no ghosting like he’d done, full-on around the lime, kiss…

You bit the fruit, pulled it from his mouth, tossed it on the plate at the table, then pulled him back in for another kiss.

Hank felt like the floodgates had opened. Fuck, had he thought about what it would be like to kiss you…

His fingers gripped at your hips, pulled you into him, mistakenly let you feel his erection.

“Hank…” you pulled back from the kiss, traced your hands down his torso.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Your order,” came a voice and, go figure, it was that Matt guy holding their burger and fries. “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?”

And there it was, perfect timing for you to pull away from him, slap him, call him a pervert for getting so worked up over this…

“Can we get that to go?” you asked Matt and Hank couldn’t help but stare dumbfounded.

“Uh…yeah…I…yeah,” Matt scurried off.

“Too much?” you asked, gnawing at your lower lip.

Hank felt like his jaw was on the floor still. “I mean, this…you…”

“I’m done being in my feelings, Hank, so I’ll be very forward: I want you. This ends one of two ways tonight and both of them I need to leave.”

Hank felt bold for once tonight. “What are the options?” his voice was deeper, laced with flirtation, arousal. He stepped closer to you to hide his erection in case someone was looking.

“Either I go home alone, cold shower, play with myself to get you off my mind…or you take me home, we eat this together, and see where the night takes us.”

Hank never thought he’d leave half-empty drinks at a bar but on this occasion, he gladly raced out with you in tow: dinner in a to-go box, whiskey half-drunk next to the tip on the table.

So maybe you weren’t lying – you weren’t into Connor after all…

[gogogodzilla]

Criminal Analysis Masterlist

Summary: You never pictured this life for yourself. Never pictured that android cases would start piling up and you'd be assigned to figure out why they were deviating.

You were a forensic psychologist hired by the Detroit Police Department as a consultant. You usually dealt with figuring out what made suspects tick and why they did what they did. You figured it'd be the same thing, as usual, that is until a certain android walked into your crime scene and completely turned your life upside down.

Smut = ♡♡♡

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6 ♡♡♡

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16 ♡♡♡

Tease ♡♡♡ ➢ The spiritual smutty epilogue to Criminal Analysis aka Connor can't wait until you get home ;)

Also available on Wattpad and AO3!

Check out some of my other works here!