coming-lieutenant

[coming-lieutenant]

[coming-lieutenant]

[coming-lieutenant]

I'm going to the CyberLife tower does anyone want anything

[coming-lieutenant]

Of course! I love writing for Hank 🖤 he’s my favorite grizzly, grumpy man 🖤

Hello!

Got another idea about younger detective and how Hank can't believe she likes him, so he thinks she spends time with them for Connor, until she's fed up with all of this and kisses him. Maybe in front of DPD 👀.

Thanks Queen/King/any other royality you might identifies with 💖😌

Get a Fucking Clue

A/N: Sorry for the delay 😭 my life literally imploded over the last week and a half and I finally got the ship back on course. I hope you enjoy it!! I’m so sorry it took me so long!

~

Cool, refreshing air envelopes your body, a comforting contrast to the summer heat outside as you walk step into the Detroit Police Precinct. Today marks the beginning of a new journey for you as a criminal investigator. Over are the days of sitting on the side of the road, in alleys, waiting for someone to break into a building, mug some unsuspecting passerby, or any of the other unsavory activities that occur under the moonlight of this restless city. Now, you get to work among some of DPD’s finest on the scenes of the crimes, solving crimes with much higher stakes.

You take a breath, trying to keep yourself cool and collected as you walk into the Bull Pen. You’ve been in here before, but typically you didn’t spend much time here. You walk through, looking at the desks, looking for the lieutenant and his partner you’ve been assigned to train under. You see a man, or android, rather, as you can tell by the bright blue LED on his temple, sitting at a desk. You recall being told the partner in question was an android detective sent by Cyberlife, and though you don’t see anyone sitting with him, you approach anyway.

“Hello. You must be Connor,” you say, greeting the android as you walk up to the desk. He looks up from his computer at you. “Hello,” he says, giving you a warm smile, “I am in fact. Can I help you with something?” You look at the empty desk across from him. “Have you seen Lieutenant Anderson this morning?” You ask, puzzled by his absence. Connor smiles again. “It would be surprising if I had. I’ll call him and let him know you’re here.” He picks up his phone, calling Lieutenant Anderson. He looks mildly surprised as his call is answered. “Lieutenant? Our trainee is here. She wishes to meet you.” He’s quiet for a moment, seemingly listening to the response. “Alright. I’ll let her know.” Connor hangs up the phone, looking to you, “He wanted me to inform you he’ll be here in fifteen minutes. He said you may sit at his desk until he arrives if you want.” You smile, nodding. “I think I will.”

You sit at his desk, taking in the various items he has scattered around. He’s got a little plant, which makes you smile, and a picture of a saint bernard dog. He’s also got stickers all over his computer screen, almost completely covering the screen itself. You scan your eyes over the snarky and sarcastic stickers, referencing his disdain for his ex-wife, happy people, and complaints.

Just as you finish reading them, you catch the motion of someone approaching out of the corner of your eye. You look up to see a particularly tall man, taller than Connor, with shaggy, silver hair and a brown leather jacket approaching. You smile, standing up. “You must be Lieutenant Anderson,” you greet, holding your hand out for him to shake. He stands in front of you, an apathetic yet curious look on his face as he shakes your hand. The contact nearly sends a shiver down your spine, heat blossoming in your hand and running all the way up your arm, settling in your cheeks. “Unfortunately.” He responds, looking down at you. “Are you the new kid Fowler wants me to train?” Your smile falters a little bit, taken aback, but you’re not one to back down at the first sign of trouble. You stand up a little straighter, smiling at him confidently. “I actually have several years of patrol under my belt.” This makes him chuckle. “I consider ‘several’ five or more years. How many you got?” He retorts. You cross your arms, still smiling. “Four. But regardless, I’m not fresh meat, Lieutenant, and I’m sure someone as experienced as yourself will have no problem training me up in no time,” you quip. This finally gets you a smirk from the detective. He sits down in his chair, “I’ll see what I can do.”

-

Your training under Hank went like that for months. Sarcastic comments from Hank, witty replies thrown right back in his face from you, Connor being an unfortunate bystander, day in and day out. As the days went by, you found yourself growing… Particularly fond of Hank. It was nearing the end of your training, meaning working so closely alongside Hank and Connor was about to come to and end, and you would be assigned to cases on your own and eventually be issued your own partner. As exhilarating as it was, finally having the world in your hands, it was bittersweet. You found yourself waking up in the morning eager to go to work, and though you were in some degree of denial about it, deep down you knew you weren’t eager to work. You were eager to see Hank.

Hank was grumpy, cynical, and spiteful, yes. Absolutely he was. Concurrently, though, you knew that, much like Connor, he had grown a soft spot for you. In fact, much to Connor’s chagrin, he seemed to have more of a soft spot for you than he did for even his android partner. Of the three of you, you were the most likely to make mistakes. To get things wrong. Regardless, he always met your self criticisms with defensiveness. Defense of you. He never let you feel like you weren’t a good enough detective, or like you would never be able to make it on your own. And, though you would never let him know it, the banter between the two of you, when it happened, never failed to light a fire deep inside you. It was exhilarating to go back and forth with him, and you basked in the attention of it.

Nearing the end of your training with Hank, only weeks out from it, you found yourself standing outside of Chicken Feed with Hank. Connor sat in the car, as usual, seemingly wanting to give the two of you space as he slowly caught onto your feelings for Hank. You smile at Hank. “Only a couple more weeks of this, huh?” you quip. Hank chuckles. “Yep. You’re lucky, you only have to deal with two more weeks of this ugly mug. Connor over there has to put up with it until further notice,” he responds, motioning to Connor in the car with the sandwich in his hands. “You’re going to miss him, aren’t ya?” he says, laughing. A look of confusion spreads across your face, and you look at him with furrowed brows. “Miss who?” Hank gives you a knowing look. “Connor.” He says, as though it’s the most obvious statement in the world. You are thoroughly perplexed by this. “Oh, uh… Yeah? I guess so.” You’re not sure what the point of the question is, but you finish your lunch anyway, not much of a word from either of you as you finish eating.

Back at the station, Hank’s words repeat like a broken record in your head. You sit with him, once again in Connor’s absence, as the two of you quietly work on filing through cases. Suddenly, Hank speaks. “You know, I think you should tell him how you feel.” You sit up, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. “Hank, what in god’s name are you talking about?” you demand, looking incredulously at him. He looks back up at him. “Connor. You should tell him how you feel. I mean, even when there’s no case, you’re always hanging around. You always seem to laugh when you’re with him, and you blush all the time. I think before your training is done, you should tell him how you feel.” You stand up, running your hand through your hair and sighing, pacing slightly away from your chair as you are struck with disbelief, not knowing how to respond. You’ve never in all your years seen someone be so dense. He starts to talk again. “Listen, I didn’t mean to stress you out, I just think-“ Suddenly, you know exactly what you should do. You spin on your heel, cutting him off as he speaks by grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips onto his. Hank’s hands are suspended in mid-air where they had been while he spoke, and they slowly move to your arms, gently touching you as he begins to kiss back. After a moment, you pull away, smiling. “Still think it’s Connor I’ve taken an interest in?” Hank stares at you, a smile slowly creeping onto his lips as seemingly the whole bull pen stares at the two of you in disbelief. Hank chuckles, speechless. And you smirk, returning to your chair, satisfied with yourself as you return to your work. Finally, the man has gotten a fucking clue.

[coming-lieutenant]

Hello!

Got another idea about younger detective and how Hank can't believe she likes him, so he thinks she spends time with them for Connor, until she's fed up with all of this and kisses him. Maybe in front of DPD 👀.

Thanks Queen/King/any other royality you might identifies with 💖😌

Get a Fucking Clue

A/N: Sorry for the delay 😭 my life literally imploded over the last week and a half and I finally got the ship back on course. I hope you enjoy it!! I’m so sorry it took me so long!

~

Cool, refreshing air envelopes your body, a comforting contrast to the summer heat outside as you walk step into the Detroit Police Precinct. Today marks the beginning of a new journey for you as a criminal investigator. Over are the days of sitting on the side of the road, in alleys, waiting for someone to break into a building, mug some unsuspecting passerby, or any of the other unsavory activities that occur under the moonlight of this restless city. Now, you get to work among some of DPD’s finest on the scenes of the crimes, solving crimes with much higher stakes.

You take a breath, trying to keep yourself cool and collected as you walk into the Bull Pen. You’ve been in here before, but typically you didn’t spend much time here. You walk through, looking at the desks, looking for the lieutenant and his partner you’ve been assigned to train under. You see a man, or android, rather, as you can tell by the bright blue LED on his temple, sitting at a desk. You recall being told the partner in question was an android detective sent by Cyberlife, and though you don’t see anyone sitting with him, you approach anyway.

“Hello. You must be Connor,” you say, greeting the android as you walk up to the desk. He looks up from his computer at you. “Hello,” he says, giving you a warm smile, “I am in fact. Can I help you with something?” You look at the empty desk across from him. “Have you seen Lieutenant Anderson this morning?” You ask, puzzled by his absence. Connor smiles again. “It would be surprising if I had. I’ll call him and let him know you’re here.” He picks up his phone, calling Lieutenant Anderson. He looks mildly surprised as his call is answered. “Lieutenant? Our trainee is here. She wishes to meet you.” He’s quiet for a moment, seemingly listening to the response. “Alright. I’ll let her know.” Connor hangs up the phone, looking to you, “He wanted me to inform you he’ll be here in fifteen minutes. He said you may sit at his desk until he arrives if you want.” You smile, nodding. “I think I will.”

You sit at his desk, taking in the various items he has scattered around. He’s got a little plant, which makes you smile, and a picture of a saint bernard dog. He’s also got stickers all over his computer screen, almost completely covering the screen itself. You scan your eyes over the snarky and sarcastic stickers, referencing his disdain for his ex-wife, happy people, and complaints.

Just as you finish reading them, you catch the motion of someone approaching out of the corner of your eye. You look up to see a particularly tall man, taller than Connor, with shaggy, silver hair and a brown leather jacket approaching. You smile, standing up. “You must be Lieutenant Anderson,” you greet, holding your hand out for him to shake. He stands in front of you, an apathetic yet curious look on his face as he shakes your hand. The contact nearly sends a shiver down your spine, heat blossoming in your hand and running all the way up your arm, settling in your cheeks. “Unfortunately.” He responds, looking down at you. “Are you the new kid Fowler wants me to train?” Your smile falters a little bit, taken aback, but you’re not one to back down at the first sign of trouble. You stand up a little straighter, smiling at him confidently. “I actually have several years of patrol under my belt.” This makes him chuckle. “I consider ‘several’ five or more years. How many you got?” He retorts. You cross your arms, still smiling. “Four. But regardless, I’m not fresh meat, Lieutenant, and I’m sure someone as experienced as yourself will have no problem training me up in no time,” you quip. This finally gets you a smirk from the detective. He sits down in his chair, “I’ll see what I can do.”

-

Your training under Hank went like that for months. Sarcastic comments from Hank, witty replies thrown right back in his face from you, Connor being an unfortunate bystander, day in and day out. As the days went by, you found yourself growing… Particularly fond of Hank. It was nearing the end of your training, meaning working so closely alongside Hank and Connor was about to come to and end, and you would be assigned to cases on your own and eventually be issued your own partner. As exhilarating as it was, finally having the world in your hands, it was bittersweet. You found yourself waking up in the morning eager to go to work, and though you were in some degree of denial about it, deep down you knew you weren’t eager to work. You were eager to see Hank.

Hank was grumpy, cynical, and spiteful, yes. Absolutely he was. Concurrently, though, you knew that, much like Connor, he had grown a soft spot for you. In fact, much to Connor’s chagrin, he seemed to have more of a soft spot for you than he did for even his android partner. Of the three of you, you were the most likely to make mistakes. To get things wrong. Regardless, he always met your self criticisms with defensiveness. Defense of you. He never let you feel like you weren’t a good enough detective, or like you would never be able to make it on your own. And, though you would never let him know it, the banter between the two of you, when it happened, never failed to light a fire deep inside you. It was exhilarating to go back and forth with him, and you basked in the attention of it.

Nearing the end of your training with Hank, only weeks out from it, you found yourself standing outside of Chicken Feed with Hank. Connor sat in the car, as usual, seemingly wanting to give the two of you space as he slowly caught onto your feelings for Hank. You smile at Hank. “Only a couple more weeks of this, huh?” you quip. Hank chuckles. “Yep. You’re lucky, you only have to deal with two more weeks of this ugly mug. Connor over there has to put up with it until further notice,” he responds, motioning to Connor in the car with the sandwich in his hands. “You’re going to miss him, aren’t ya?” he says, laughing. A look of confusion spreads across your face, and you look at him with furrowed brows. “Miss who?” Hank gives you a knowing look. “Connor.” He says, as though it’s the most obvious statement in the world. You are thoroughly perplexed by this. “Oh, uh… Yeah? I guess so.” You’re not sure what the point of the question is, but you finish your lunch anyway, not much of a word from either of you as you finish eating.

Back at the station, Hank’s words repeat like a broken record in your head. You sit with him, once again in Connor’s absence, as the two of you quietly work on filing through cases. Suddenly, Hank speaks. “You know, I think you should tell him how you feel.” You sit up, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. “Hank, what in god’s name are you talking about?” you demand, looking incredulously at him. He looks back up at him. “Connor. You should tell him how you feel. I mean, even when there’s no case, you’re always hanging around. You always seem to laugh when you’re with him, and you blush all the time. I think before your training is done, you should tell him how you feel.” You stand up, running your hand through your hair and sighing, pacing slightly away from your chair as you are struck with disbelief, not knowing how to respond. You’ve never in all your years seen someone be so dense. He starts to talk again. “Listen, I didn’t mean to stress you out, I just think-“ Suddenly, you know exactly what you should do. You spin on your heel, cutting him off as he speaks by grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips onto his. Hank’s hands are suspended in mid-air where they had been while he spoke, and they slowly move to your arms, gently touching you as he begins to kiss back. After a moment, you pull away, smiling. “Still think it’s Connor I’ve taken an interest in?” Hank stares at you, a smile slowly creeping onto his lips as seemingly the whole bull pen stares at the two of you in disbelief. Hank chuckles, speechless. And you smirk, returning to your chair, satisfied with yourself as you return to your work. Finally, the man has gotten a fucking clue.

#hank anderson x reader #dbh x reader #hank dbh x reader

[coming-lieutenant]

Of course! I’m really loving writing for Hank tbh. Might fuck around and flood the whole tag 😤😤

Hi!

It's me again, I really liked the last sorry so I trough if you're up for another?

I was thinking Hank having crush on younger detective, he finds out that she have a crush on him too and do something about that?

Pretty please 👉🏻👈🏻🥺 ✨❤️

A/N: I’m so here for the Hank love! We need more posts in this tag 😤

Warnings: Brief reference to Hank being sad 😢

Table Talk

Thirteen years. That’s how long Hank Anderson had been a cop. Thirteen long, haunting years of “serving his community.” And he’d seen it all, done it all, been through it all; red ice addicts that were too far gone to recognize themselves in the mirror, brutal murders, and now deviant androids that were responsible for any and all types of crimes. Not to mention the ghosts that topic brought up for him.

Hank felt that in his thirteen years of being a police officer, and his 53 years of life, he’d done it all. He’d grown up, got the career, got the white picket fence and the family, had it all and lost it all. As far as he was concerned, all his life was now was… The same old shit. Day in and day out. Wake up, go to work, get drunk, pass out, rinse and repeat. What he was not, to any capacity, prepared for was meeting her.

She wasn’t sunshine and rainbows, per se. But she was fresh, energetic, so vibrantly full of life. Hank couldn’t even bring himself to be jealous, he was simply too busy being completely enthralled. Day by day, the ice cold casing around his heart melted. For the first time in years, he felt himself smile. Not a sarcastic smile, not an ironic smile, but a genuine smile, simply because she laughed.

Hank found himself doing things he hadn’t done in years. He was planning outfits, he was wearing cologne, he was laughing. His colleagues at the station were baffled, rumors flying about what could possibly have Hank this down right chipper. Slowly, all of the snarky “ex-wife” stickers came down from his desk, slowly replaced with things he was actually interested in, such as music, and even a cheesy “I love my Saint Bernard” sticker.

As the weeks went by, Hank began to feel himself drawn more and more towards her. It was like she had her own gravitational pull, and Hank was but a mere moon, no match for her force. He couldn’t keep himself away. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind, and they often found themselves sitting together as they ate lunch. It was a day like any other when Hank started to notice something intriguing.

Like many days before, she sat across from him, smiling as she haphazardly swirled a french fry in a small cup of ketchup. When she looked up at him, Hank saw something in her eye’s he hadn’t seen in years, and he wasn’t sure he could believe his eyes. Was it… Admiration? It couldn’t be. Of course, she lit up his day, but to her? There was no way he was anything more than a grumpy old man. He shakes the thought away with nothing more than a slight twitch of his head, reaching for the salt sitting in the center of the table.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even register that she was also reaching for it, and as their hands brush, he can’t help but notice the cutest little “Oh!” escape her lips. He looks up, watching as the pink spreads across her face as their hands freeze. She pulls her hand back, shyly looking away as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “S-Sorry.” She says, looking up at him with a soft smile. Hank slowly grabs the salt, moving it closer to her, a slightly puzzled look on his face. He sits back in his chair, motioning to the salt. “Ladies first,” he says with a smile. She gently takes the salt, moving with a gentility he hadn’t seen from her before. After all, she was a detective, not Miss Universe. Although, had she wanted to be, he was absolutely positive she’d get it. “They never put enough salt on these things,” she quips, a shy smile on her face as she sets the salt in front of Hank. Hank chuckles softly, smirking as he gazes on her, arms crossed. “They sure don’t.”

As they wrap up their lunch, Hank replays the encounter in his mind. He’s seen her talk to plenty of their coworkers, and he’s never seen her behave like that. As he thinks back on other encounters they’ve had, it slowly dawns on him that she’s only like that with him. He ultimately decides that there’s only one way to find out. He takes a breath, looking up at her. “Can I ask you a… Personal question?” he presses, eyebrows slightly furrowed. A look of surprise washes over her features, but she nods regardless. “Of course. What is it?” Hank leans back in his seat again, tapping his fingers on the table lightly. “Are you… Seeing anybody?” he asks, hoping the question comes off as curious and not pushy. She blushes, shaking her head slightly. “Nah. Why do you ask?” He taps his fingers again, looking at the table for a moment. “Would you like to be?” She looks confused for a moment before the realization hits her. “Are you- Do you mean-?” she stutters, eyes slightly wide. Hank responds with simply a curt nod, not having done something like this in quite a long while. “I could take you somewhere. If, y’know… If you wanted to.” he offers, finally looking back up to her. Her cheeks burn pink as she smiles, nodding excitedly. “I’d love to!” Relief floods over Hank as he leans forward again, smiling. “How does this Friday sound?” She smiles even brighter, “It sounds great!” He nods, a smile creeping onto his face as well. “Good, good. I’ll pick you up at 7.”

“It’s a date!”

“Yeah… Yeah it is.”

[coming-lieutenant]

[:// [EVERYTHING IS ALL RIGHT.] IDENTIFICATION: MODEL HK400: DESIGNATION:> SHAOLIN /:\ASSESSING: SYNC IN PROGRESS:/ SYNC DONE>: CORE TEMPERATURES DECREASING :/: STRESS LEVELS DECREASING /:\ GO0D10110-ER30RR9A9A [?] /:\ [IT'S OVER NOW] //:]

[coming-lieutenant]

Hi!

It's me again, I really liked the last sorry so I trough if you're up for another?

I was thinking Hank having crush on younger detective, he finds out that she have a crush on him too and do something about that?

Pretty please 👉🏻👈🏻🥺 ✨❤️

A/N: I’m so here for the Hank love! We need more posts in this tag 😤

Warnings: Brief reference to Hank being sad 😢

Table Talk

Thirteen years. That’s how long Hank Anderson had been a cop. Thirteen long, haunting years of “serving his community.” And he’d seen it all, done it all, been through it all; red ice addicts that were too far gone to recognize themselves in the mirror, brutal murders, and now deviant androids that were responsible for any and all types of crimes. Not to mention the ghosts that topic brought up for him.

Hank felt that in his thirteen years of being a police officer, and his 53 years of life, he’d done it all. He’d grown up, got the career, got the white picket fence and the family, had it all and lost it all. As far as he was concerned, all his life was now was… The same old shit. Day in and day out. Wake up, go to work, get drunk, pass out, rinse and repeat. What he was not, to any capacity, prepared for was meeting her.

She wasn’t sunshine and rainbows, per se. But she was fresh, energetic, so vibrantly full of life. Hank couldn’t even bring himself to be jealous, he was simply too busy being completely enthralled. Day by day, the ice cold casing around his heart melted. For the first time in years, he felt himself smile. Not a sarcastic smile, not an ironic smile, but a genuine smile, simply because she laughed.

Hank found himself doing things he hadn’t done in years. He was planning outfits, he was wearing cologne, he was laughing. His colleagues at the station were baffled, rumors flying about what could possibly have Hank this down right chipper. Slowly, all of the snarky “ex-wife” stickers came down from his desk, slowly replaced with things he was actually interested in, such as music, and even a cheesy “I love my Saint Bernard” sticker.

As the weeks went by, Hank began to feel himself drawn more and more towards her. It was like she had her own gravitational pull, and Hank was but a mere moon, no match for her force. He couldn’t keep himself away. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind, and they often found themselves sitting together as they ate lunch. It was a day like any other when Hank started to notice something intriguing.

Like many days before, she sat across from him, smiling as she haphazardly swirled a french fry in a small cup of ketchup. When she looked up at him, Hank saw something in her eye’s he hadn’t seen in years, and he wasn’t sure he could believe his eyes. Was it… Admiration? It couldn’t be. Of course, she lit up his day, but to her? There was no way he was anything more than a grumpy old man. He shakes the thought away with nothing more than a slight twitch of his head, reaching for the salt sitting in the center of the table.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even register that she was also reaching for it, and as their hands brush, he can’t help but notice the cutest little “Oh!” escape her lips. He looks up, watching as the pink spreads across her face as their hands freeze. She pulls her hand back, shyly looking away as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “S-Sorry.” She says, looking up at him with a soft smile. Hank slowly grabs the salt, moving it closer to her, a slightly puzzled look on his face. He sits back in his chair, motioning to the salt. “Ladies first,” he says with a smile. She gently takes the salt, moving with a gentility he hadn’t seen from her before. After all, she was a detective, not Miss Universe. Although, had she wanted to be, he was absolutely positive she’d get it. “They never put enough salt on these things,” she quips, a shy smile on her face as she sets the salt in front of Hank. Hank chuckles softly, smirking as he gazes on her, arms crossed. “They sure don’t.”

As they wrap up their lunch, Hank replays the encounter in his mind. He’s seen her talk to plenty of their coworkers, and he’s never seen her behave like that. As he thinks back on other encounters they’ve had, it slowly dawns on him that she’s only like that with him. He ultimately decides that there’s only one way to find out. He takes a breath, looking up at her. “Can I ask you a… Personal question?” he presses, eyebrows slightly furrowed. A look of surprise washes over her features, but she nods regardless. “Of course. What is it?” Hank leans back in his seat again, tapping his fingers on the table lightly. “Are you… Seeing anybody?” he asks, hoping the question comes off as curious and not pushy. She blushes, shaking her head slightly. “Nah. Why do you ask?” He taps his fingers again, looking at the table for a moment. “Would you like to be?” She looks confused for a moment before the realization hits her. “Are you- Do you mean-?” she stutters, eyes slightly wide. Hank responds with simply a curt nod, not having done something like this in quite a long while. “I could take you somewhere. If, y’know… If you wanted to.” he offers, finally looking back up to her. Her cheeks burn pink as she smiles, nodding excitedly. “I’d love to!” Relief floods over Hank as he leans forward again, smiling. “How does this Friday sound?” She smiles even brighter, “It sounds great!” He nods, a smile creeping onto his face as well. “Good, good. I’ll pick you up at 7.”

“It’s a date!”

“Yeah… Yeah it is.”

#hank anderson x reader

[coming-lieutenant]

Error

Summary: A short account of how Nines deviated.

A/N: My first Nines fic! Hopefully I did a good enough job at writing him in character :’]

Ruthless. Unwavering. Invulnerable. These were things RK900 was designed to be. He was designed to complete a job, and a lot of money was poured into making sure there was no room for error in his programming when it came to doing said job.

A lot of money poured into making sure he wasn’t like him. His predecessor. The ever present thorn in his side.

The weight of the pressure was unbearable, a prototype designed and produced to replace a faulty prototype. Not that he felt it, though. He didn’t feel.

Which was why he found himself having to run constant diagnostics as of late. His systems were going haywire. “Hot under the collar,” was never a phrase he understood, and definitely not something expected to experience himself. Yet here he was, hotter than hell under the collar. And everywhere else. To the point, in fact, that he had to, on top of his diagnostics (which were coming back normal somehow), constantly adjust his clothing. He was about a day away from making a trip to Cyberlife Tower for them to check for malfunctions in his hardware when a piece of information revealed itself to him, an unraveling pattern: these symptoms only occurring on days during which he encountered you.

So the solution was obvious, and refreshingly simple, like finally receiving a glass of water on a hot summer day… Or so he assumed. All he had to do was stop encountering you. At least, he had thought it would be that simple.

He was moderately prepared for seeing you against his will. After all, you did work for the same department he was currently positioned at. Every brief encounter was accompanied by the same symptoms, the heat, the warnings flashing in his visual field, the looping and breaking thought patterns. As long as he kept his distance and kept the encounters short, he was able to mitigate these symptoms. What he was not prepared for in the slightest was being assigned to a case alongside you.

Once again, his systems felt less than fully operational. At simply the proposition of this task, his processing unit was going a mile a minute. This was simply not logical. You were not a lieutenant, you were not even a deputy. You were still in the academy! There was no reason he should be on a case alone with you. If you were to be on a case, it should have been with Lieutenant Anderson. This was simply not logical! The line repeated in his mind like a bug, a virus. You were infecting his software.

Fowler’s instructions were simple: follow her orders, so as to allow her to learn, but do not allow her to get hurt. For a military grade android equipped with deadly weapons, this task should be simple. This was your first mission without Lieutenant Anderson. He would be there to oversee the process and make sure the mission doesn’t go awry to provide you experience without a Lieutenant looking over your shoulder, to make sure you were ready for the field. This thought, however, made him feel like he had butterflies— no, cicadas— clamoring around in his plastic and metal chassis. He ran a hand through his hair, pausing midway through in his confusion. He smoothed his hair back into place, unable to place what these physical reactions were, or how they were happening.

💙

The mission itself was unbearable. The two of you were tracking down a missing android, of course. The same monotonous task the DPD had been plaguing its workers with for nearly 6 months at this point. The case didn’t seem particularly dangerous; the murder it had committed only involved blunt-force trauma, so potentially accidental. Nines considered it immensely helpful that the case was so lack luster, at least it gave him more mental space to deal with the aggravations that came along with being around you. The uncomfortable reality was that he still wasn’t sure how this was happening, and yet… He no longer considered going to Cyberlife about it an option, instead opting for a more secretive route. Although he’d never admit it to himself, he didn’t entirely want these feelings to go away. The symptoms were annoying, sure. Overheating was… Less than optimal. But there was something else that accompanied these feelings. Like an instinctive feeling, which was exhilarating for him. Something that existed outside of the zeroes and ones, outside of mechanics and the software. It was small, and it was technically a bug, a glitch, but it was real. He didn’t want Cyberlife to take that away.

As RK900, or “Nines” as you insist upon calling him, accompanied you around this seemingly abandoned house, you busied yourself with asking him trivial, meaningless questions. And he was desperate for you to keep asking them.

“Why did they give Connor a name and not you?”

“RK800 deviated because they allowed him to tread too far into human territory. I suppose they did not want to take the risk with me.”

His non-existent stomach did a flip as he watched your eyebrows furrow in response.

“But you’re sentient. You can think. You’re self aware. That’s mean for them to give Connor a name and not you.”

“It has never made a difference to me, I assure you.”

“I’ll call you Nines for now. But I intend to give you a real name, okay?”

RK900 felt hot again, even more so than before. His face felt hot. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“If that is what you want. I will allow you to call me whatever you choose.” He wasn’t sure why this was the case, but he knew it was. He would do anything she asked of him. Anything. And he had not a single clue as to why.

As the two of you made your way up the stairs, Nines kept a hand on his holster, ready for anything that could be in store. Just as he suspected, there was a loud clamor from one of the rooms as the two of you reached the top of the stairs. Just as he takes his gun out of its holster, you speak.

“Stay here, Nines! I mean it!”

He wasn’t sure what your aim here was. Strategically, this decision was the least sound. If he were to get hurt, Cyberlife could either repair him or send a replacement. If you got hurt…

Fowler’s instructions echoed in his mind. Follow her orders, don’t allow her to get hurt. In this instance, the set of instructions was contradictory. He also had a secondary set of instructions: yours, telling him to stay put. His brain was rapidly running reconstructions, none of them ending well. As took a step forward, something in his coding stopped him. He heard another loud clamor from the room you had disappeared into, sending his systems into a frenzy. He fought against his coding, ignoring every single warning and reminder his mechanical brain was firing at him. Suddenly, he was able to step forward, running into the room you were in, gun drawn and aimed.

He didn’t hesitate, he didn’t have time to. He saw the deviant, and fired with lethal precision. As the deviant fell to the floor, he turned to you. You lay on the floor, blood oozing from a gash on your forehead. Seeing a broken wooden beam on the floor next to you, he quickly reconstructs the scene. The deviant was trying to escape as you entered the room. He must have been hiding when the two of you were coming up the stairs, and whatever was containing him broke. As you entered the room, he tried to throw the beam at you as a diversion. RK900– Nines— had arrived just in time to catch him just in time, before he was able to make it out the window.

Nines kneels down next to you, feeling yet another new emotion: panic. As he examines your wound, he exhales in exasperation. “Why would you do that?! Why would you not send me in first?! You are not replaceable, I am!” You look at him, slightly dizzy as your head pounds. Your voice comes our groggily. “No, you’re not. They could send a new model, but it wouldn’t be you.” Anger flares in Nines as he looks down at you. “This was ridiculous. If all he had was a piece of wood, it would have done nothing to me. Nothing!” You smile, groggily. “We didn’t know what he would have. Plus, you would have killed him. I was trying to get him out of here alive. Now can you help me up?”

Nines sighs again as he helps you up. “This was idiotic, detective.” You laugh, feeling yourself being practically dragged off the floor. “I’m going to make it. Looks like he’s not, though.” Nines says nothing, walking close behind you to ensure your stability as you exit the scene. He continues to say nothing. In the car, at the station, not a word.

As you gather your things, preparing to go home, you wander over to Nines’ desk, standing next to him as you smile down at him. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were scared back there,” you tease, smirking at him. Nines doesn’t look at you, keeping his eyes stubbornly locked on the screen in front of him. “You’d be wrong, detective. I do not feel anything, as I am not programmed to.” As the words leave his lips, you both know that it’s a lie. But you don’t say anything. And neither does he.

As you leave the bull pen, RK900 clenches his fists. A military grade android, a weapon, programmed to never, EVER feel anything remotely similar to emotion, afraid. Going against his coding. There was only one thing that could mean: he had become what he was built to destroy. He had become like him.

#rk900 x reader #nines x reader #nines dbh #dbh rk900 #nines rk900 #rk900

[coming-lieutenant]

[:// PROCESSING AUDIO HANK ANDERSON:> [MAYBE YOU DID THE RIGHT THING.]/:\ ERR0R PR0CES91NGERR0R91019 /:\ THE RIGHT THING [?] :]

[coming-lieutenant]

[//: 067.8/:\ EXECUTING TASK > SAVE THE DWARF GOURAMI /:/ TASK [SUCCESSFUL / FAILED]:/:\ TASK COMPLETED :// PLACED BACK INTO AQUARIUM:/ ASSESSING:> IT APPEARS TO BE FINE :\ 036.9 :/: [IT'S ALIVE]:]

[coming-lieutenant]

DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN

Again… posting my faves from @vrtuellereality and Pinterest because I just CAN’T-

[coming-lieutenant]

[coming-lieutenant]

CALIBRATION : IN PROGRESS SYNTHETIC SKIN : DEACTIVATED

[coming-lieutenant]

Rk900 and his damn pretty everything blue eyes.

[coming-lieutenant]

Rk900 getting all wet.

God that sounds bad.

[coming-lieutenant]

Hello!

If your request are open I'd like to see Hank x younger f!reader that is not working in DPD. Anything spicy with them knowing each other, or not.

Thanks and have a great day! 😁

Tall, Dark Stranger

A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Alcohol, strangers to lovers, fingering, p in v sex

Minors do not interact!!

Cold, amber tinted liquid swirled in your cup as you sat absentmindedly at the bar. You didn’t regularly find yourself here, but when the dark corners of your lonely apartment seemed to close in, you found yourself two blocks down from your home, sipping your bitter drink trying to avoid your bitter feelings.

It was boring, drinking by yourself at the bar. But it was better than being bored and alone at home. As you lift your glass to down the rest of your drink, you hear the front door of the bar swing open, the loud wind and rain suddenly echoing through the establishment. A face you seem to recall but can’t quite place walks in, coming to sit two seats down from you. You wrack your brain for where you may have seen him before, eventually realizing he was here in this bar the last time you found yourself in this situation. You chuckle softly to yourself, shaking your head. ‘Times really are rough, huh?’ You think to yourself.

Typically, you’d describe yourself as a private person, someone who minds their own business. But tonight, you felt a pull just at the edges of your attention, continuously pulling your eyes towards that serious, gruff looking older man. He looked like he must be in his 50’s. You wondered what could have happened in his life that would bring him here by himself on a Tuesday night, though it’s not lost on you that he would likely wonder that about yourself.

Something in you feels called to talk to him. Maybe it’s the chill in the air, maybe it’s your loneliness, maybe it’s the way his hair hangs in front of face, creating that perfectly mysterious look, you’re not quite sure. Regardless, you carefully consider your next move. ‘Nothing to lose,’ you think to yourself, ‘Might as well have some fun while I’m here.’

“Jimmy! His next one’s on me,” You call to the bartender, motioning towards the stranger.

The man looks over to you, a confused yet curious look written across his features. You give him a warm smile, winking playfully at him. Jimmy pours the man a drink, laughing to himself. You decide to really lay it on thick with the flirting. After all, what else was there to look forward to tonight? Walking your drunken ass back home in the rain? You figure the worst thing he can do is say no. You briefly wonder to yourself if he’d let you down easy or flat out reject you— But wouldn’t that be interesting? You stand up, confidently walking over to take the bar stool directly next to him. You’re not entirely sure where you’ve found your courage tonight, although you can only assume it must be the alcohol. You sit down, swiveling the chair so that you’re sat facing him instead of the bar.

“Here all by yourself?” You ask, looking at him through your lashes.

“I could ask you the same question.” He says, looking up at you, eyeing you with a slight suspicion, evidently not used to this type of attention. You shrug, turning to face the bar, placing your arms crossed on the table in front of you. “I don’t have anyone to bring.” You say, watching Jimmy bring the stranger his drink.

“I find that hard to believe,” the man scoffs, looking over at you. You smirk slightly at him, deciding to throw all caution to the wind. “What can I say? Guys my age bore me.” You say, sitting up straighter and looking him dead in the eye, giving him your sweetest smile. You see something you can’t quite place shift in his eyes, inwardly applauding yourself. It worked.

You look back up towards Jimmy. “One more for the road for me, Jimmy,” you say, taking cash out of your wallet and holding it up to him. Jimmy takes the money from you, pocketing it before pouring you a shot, as per request. He sets it in front of you, seemingly amused by the situation unfolding in front of him. You slam the shot, stifling your reaction as much as possible before standing up. You look over to the stranger.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” You smile, not waiting for his response as you turn, making sure to give him a show as you walk out of the bar, into the dreary and blustery night.

You only successfully made it a few feet before you hear the sound of the bar door again. Turning, you see the stranger walk out of the bar, eyes locked on you. “You know, it’s not safe for a girl like you to be out on her own this late at night,” he says. You feel the smirk rise back onto your lips. “I suppose you’re saying you want to walk me home?” You ask, placing a hand on your hip.

“Only if you’ll allow it.” You smile inwardly at the green flag. ‘A true gentleman,’ you think to yourself.

You let your hand fall from your hip, turning your back on him. “Come on, then. I don’t have all night,” you say teasingly, hanging back so as to not be too cruel.

As he approaches you, a shiver runs down your spine. His natural gait looks like a saunter to you in this state, and you can only hope the anticipation is killing him as much as it’s clawing away at you. As he stands next to you, you finally begin to take in more of him. His shaggy silver hair, his haunted bright blue eyes, the hint of cologne. God— that cologne. It doesn’t smell particularly expensive, but it may as well be Clive Christian the way it completely overwhelms your senses, driving you dizzy and desperate for more.

The walk back to your house feels like an eternity, though in truth you only live a couple blocks away. “So with whom am I graced the presence tonight?” He asks playfully, hands in his pockets as he looks over at you. You happily offer your name, smiling at him. “And who might you be?” You inquire, a dazzled look in your eye. He chuckles, his gaze shifting back to the sidewalk ahead of you. “Hank,” he says. “Well, Hank, I appreciate your company.” You give him another warm smile as you finally approach your house.

“Well, here it is,” You say, suddenly lacking the confidence you had maintained most of the night. “I’m glad I could get you home safe,” he responds, seeming to hesitate for a moment. ‘Now’s my chance!’ You think, praying this goes well for you.

“You know…” you start, turning to look at him as you open your door, “It’s pretty cold out tonight… Maybe you could stay and… Warm up?“ Your eyes trail from his shirt up to his eyes as you offer, one hand on the edge of your door. He smiles warmly, chuckling. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” You hold the door open further, winking at him. “I already told you, Hank. Guys my age bore me.”

What happened after that went fast. You suddenly found yourself pressed up against the wall just next to your front door. Not hard enough to alarm you, but enough that you could feel all of him at once— it was intoxicating, even more than the whiskey. “I need you to be positive, Sweetheart, because right now you’re driving me wild.” He practically growls, his breath deliciously warm on the side of your face. Your knees suddenly feel weak. Not that it matters, though, considering your weight is currently entirely suspended by him.

With him holding you like this, you fully realize the size of him. Easily over 6’, and strong enough to hold you entirely off the ground with no struggle at all. Nearly lost in your thoughts, you manage to struggle out a pathetic, “Please!” With that, he hoists both your legs off the ground and around his waist, pressing his hard length directly against your core as he kisses you— hard. You lose yourself in him, whimpering into his kiss as he grinds unapologetically against you. He breaks the kiss, trailing hot kisses down your neck, stopping at the spot that makes your breath hitch. With his lips still at your neck, he lifts your dress, shoving your panties to the side as he bites your sweet spot roughly, before shoving two fingers inside you.

Your hands form fists on the shoulders of his jacket as he roughly fucks you with his fingers, pulling whimpers a mewls from your throat. “You like that, Sweetheart?” He growls in your ear. “This ain’t nothing compared to what you’re gonna get. I’m gonna ruin this cunt.” He curls his fingers against your g-spot, and you’re done for. Your legs shake as you come undone over his fingers, crying out his name like a prayer.

He holds you up with one hand under your ass as he undoes his pants. Your back arches off the wall as you realize he’s going to take you right here against the wall in your living room. He presses you back up against the wall, roughly shoving his cock inside you. You’re taken entirely off guard by the girth of him, not to mention the length, crying out loudly as he bottoms out inside you. He gives you a moment to adjust, pulling agonizingly slowly out of you, taking your breath with him. His lips are on yours again as he suddenly shoves back inside you roughly. You moan helplessly into the kiss, knowing there’s no way you’re going to be able to last long. You begin to fall limp against the wall, arching your back as he fucks into you roughly.

He’s grunting and growling as he shoves himself inside you. “Your cunt is so- fuck- fucking tight!” His pace is brutal, nearly bringing tears to your eyes from the pleasure. “Not- Not gonna last much longer, sweetheart. Where do you want it?” He growls. You mewl, dragging your fingernails down the back of his jacket. “‘M on the pill. I-Inside~! Please~!” You beg. “Shit!” He growls, through gritted teeth, “Gonna be the death of me!”

He pushes impossibly deep into you, bringing his hand to rub your clit roughly. “Cum for me. Cum on my cock- That’s it, good fuckin’ girl.” You whine, cumming harder than you could have ever imagined was possible, feeling him release deep inside of you. He gives you one last kiss as you both ride out your highs before slowly pulling out of you, lowering you gently to the floor. “There you go,” he says gently, hands on your waist to steady you. “Can ya stand?” You nod, hands on his shoulders.

“You know,” you smile up at him, “You don’t have to go just yet.”

#hank anderson x reader #hank anderson smut