#angst that becomes comfort and fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chuluoyi · 8 months

Text

fear

- gojo satoru x reader

his best friend’s defection is still a hard topic for him to swallow, and it leads into an unexpected argument that spurs you to leave, only to unlock a new fear in him when you get into an unfortunate accident afterwards.

genre/warnings: angst, gojo being mean, one scene with a worried nanami *wink*, injured reader, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end

notes: *sigh* my coping mechanism is still gojo’s past arc, which is why this piece takes place on that timeline. just a little context: reader is in the same class with nanami & haibara and was in the same mission that took haibara's life. this is probably the longest oneshot i've written so far sooo… enjoy! :)

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

A year and a half had passed since Suguru embarked on his path as a curse user. In that one year and a half, Satoru had finished his last year at Jujutsu High, and now was in the halls of his alma mater, speaking to the newly appointed headmaster who was none other than his teacher.

"You're applying to become a teacher?" Yaga asked again with a frown. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Granted, he was his most troublesome pupil. "Why, Satoru?"

"If I said it's because I want to train young sorcerers to be strong, would you believe me?"

That was not a lie. It was actually 50% of his main reasons anyway. The other 50% was to repent what he missed with Suguru when he chose his dark path—his contempt with the current system of this jujutsu world.

"I would," Yaga responded gruffly. To him, Satoru was irritating, but he also knew that he was also extremely capable, and thus everything he did wasn't just out of nowhere. "But you still have to submit your applications. We can't make an exception even if you come from a prestigious clan."

"That's fine with me," he grinned. "Thanks, sensei."

On summer days, he'd get reminded of Suguru and silly things they had done together. Eating shaved ice, cycling together, driving either you, Shoko or Nanami mad. Satoru missed those days, it hadn't been the same ever since. Not knowing if his best friend was alright—if he was still alive at all—was exhausting.

Sometimes, he felt like he was the only one who was affected by his departure, the only one who stayed right where Suguru left him. Shoko didn't seem ruffled, if anything she just went to more bars and pachinko parlors as of late. Nanami was always a recluse, he never disclosed his feelings. You mourned him, but it was clear that most part of you would always be more focused on Haibara's death.

Satoru understood that he couldn't force anyone to feel what he felt, and he had no right to. But sometimes, he just wanted someone to connect with at his level. Someone to get him just like Suguru did.

And so when he got back to his condo that night—just right next to the one he rented for Megumi and Tsumiki, since he had moved out of his dorm—to find his girlfriend there with a big smile and a tray of cupcakes, unaware of everything and anything, he merely scoffed to himself.

"Satoru, you're back," you acknowledged, beaming like the sunshine you were. "I just baked these for the kids. Do you want some?"

Usually he'd smother you, throw some pickup lines here and there and say yes, but today, he just felt drained. "No." And with that, he stalked away to the bathroom, not glancing back at you.

It was wrong. But tonight he just wanted some peace and quiet, and so keeping his silence seemed to be the best choice as he didn't want to start a pointless argument with you. But you weren’t anything but observant, and definitely noticed that something was amiss with him.

"Are you... alright?" You approached him warily after he came out of the bathroom with wet hair. "Where were you today?"

"Just somewhere," he replied curtly. Afterwards he turned on the hairdryer, drowning the whole place with the noise even as you stood behind him with a visible question mark.

But you were still there after he dried his hair. "Is something bothering you?" you asked with a tilt of your head, concerned. By all means, you mean well. You just wanted to know if he could use your help at all.

When you pulled that expression, he couldn't help feeling annoyed, like he wanted you to take a hint, but you just didn't. "If you know, then just shut it."

It was probably the first time since the two of you got together that Satoru actually said something harsh. But you still tried to be reasonable though, bless you.

"Satoru, I don't know what got into your nerves like this, but I think sleeping through it might help. Have a rest."

"Why are you talking as if you know it?" he snapped, finally turning to you with his cold gaze. "You might not know anything, so don't be a know-it-all. Just mind your own business."

Now you were frustrated with his reply. "Once again, I don't know what happened to you. But if you're taking it out on me because I'm the closest you have—"

"Who said that?" Satoru didn't know where he got all this venom from. It was just at the forefront of his mind and he just got the urge to spew it. "You're considering yourself closest to me? Where did you get that big head from?"

You were aghast, and you blinked a few times to get your bearings. "Let me guess, it's about Geto-san, isn't it? Or the higher ups. Either of that must be what causing you to blindly place your anger on me."

"So what if it was? It isn't like you'll understand anyway."

"Satoru," you started, trying to even your breathing. "What happened to Geto-san isn't your fault. I've been telling you this. It can't be helped—"

"Can't be helped?" he jeered. "Do you know why it has come to this?" his tone took a dangerous edge as he stepped closer. He reached for you, grasping your wrist.

"Maybe because I was too blind back then. If it weren't for you—if only I didn't spend that much time on you, maybe he would still be here."

Did he just say that? Did he just imply that he had regretted the two of you getting together?

You felt your lower lip start to tremble and something seemed to obscure and blur your vision, making it hard to see him clearly. "You... don't mean that."

"Really?" the corner of his lips curled into a disparaging smile. "You never know. Before you know it, this can be over already. After all, I could have anyone out there that I want. Maybe someone less nosey than—”

That did it. You wrenched your arm out of his grip violently, as your first tear fell. His smirk vanished too, replaced with a total stillness to cover his sudden panic that was followed by a sudden sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"You selfish, self-obsessed jerk," you hissed through watery eyes. He was taken aback, even amidst your anger and possible fear of him, your still managed to throw daggers at him. "Fine. You have it. I'll see myself out."

Satoru never wanted you to leave. Honestly, he would've made you stay. But he wasn't in the right state of mind and it was too late to take back what he said. He didn't want to mess this up even further.

You left the cupcakes, even throwing it away just to spite him. Driven by pain and humiliation, you choked back your sob and didn't spare a glance at him as you shut the door.

Peace and quiet. There he had it, he thought as he clenched his fists, at the cost of everything else.

Leaving that condo, every step you took felt like needles piercing your shattered heart. You wiped your tears roughly. No, you refused to cry over such asshole. He made it clear, didn't he? Whatever it was that you two shared, it was at the cost of his best friend leaving him. So now the blame was on you.

If you were thinking clearly, you would've understood that his words were likely a result of his own pent-up pain and frustration that he had kept to himself for some while. But you had no patience for that or even pinpoint what you felt right now—anger, disappointment or dread, or perhaps all three. You just felt wrongly accused.

Your feet brought you back to your dorm in the school. Now it wasn't as bustling as it once were. After Satoru and Shoko's graduation, you didn't really get close to anyone. There was Ichiji, but he treated you more like a mentor rather than a classmate.

As you sank into the comforts of your bed, You replayed the events, trying to find where it went wrong—and found nothing. After all, you had already said all that could be said. It wasn't just him who lost Geto, but you, Shoko and Nanami did too, but it was more convenient for Satoru to blame everyone else rather than trying to understand that they too shared this pain.

Nevertheless, you were disappointed. You didn't expect half of what he spouted, and it got you doubting everything you had.

"You've royally fucked up."

Satoru exhaled, glaring at Shoko through the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."

The reverse cursed technique user threw him a blank stare, taking in everything from his disheveled hair to his wrinkled trousers. "Gojo, as much as I can’t care less about your sorry ass, I'm saying this not out of concern for you, but rather for Y/N. You are an asshole."

The puff of smoke she blew expanded to create a cloud-like shape. "Yaga-sensei was our teacher. His student is now a mass murderer and wanted dead. Can you even imagine how he feels? And I can't believe I'm saying this—but weren't there three of us?"

A week had gone by and instead of doing the right thing like trying to get into your good graces, Satoru was in Shoko's infirmary in the headquarters instead. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for by going here. Maybe some lingering taste of his happier student days, and Shoko was the only one remaining.

Three of us, huh... she was right. That was precisely why he came here after all.

"You're just sulking because it seems no one cares about your best friend being the best there is. But have you thought about how our juniors also lost Haibara? Right in front of their eyes? Haibara was our friend too."

He was wrong, of course he was. Satoru realized that now. But it felt wrong to ask for your forgiveness now, not to mention the disrupting thought he had—should he let you go for good altogether?

The phone suddenly rang with such fervor that made Shoko utter a swear word. She was on call duty for the rescue team today, and it was supposedly a peaceful day until Satoru decided to barge in to become her company. "Hello? Ichiji? What—speak clearly, I can't hear you."

She switched it to loudspeaker. "...iri-san! Ieiri-san—h-help—please—"

It was noisy, and blaring at the same time, and Ichiji was... Sobbing? Choking? His voice was terribly muffled and—

"L/N-san!" he cried, and Satoru remembered at that moment that you should be in a mission with Ichiji, he remembered you telling him before.

"Hic—s-she fell... hic—she fell! B-blood! She i-is bleeding so much! I-Ieiri-san—hic—s-send help! Please!"

"Hey, stay awake. Breathe. Just breathe."

Everything hurt. Most notably, your head. You could hardly think straight when all you felt was blinding pain and how your breaths came in short wheezes.

Your vision was blurry. The numbness had started to set in and chills ran up and down your spine. You couldn't make out who in front of you was. Was it Ichiji, who went with you in this mission? The only thing that glared was blue.

"You can't sleep, you hear me?" the voice was commanding, willing you to do his bidding. It was familiar, but usually his tone of voice was much lighter, happier.

Satoru.

But why was he here? He wasn't in this mission. It was supposed to be a mission for you and Ichiji.

You remembered getting the cursed spirit after manifesting your domain expansion, until in its last ditch attempt, it went after Ichiji. You had no choice—even when your cursed energy had burned out, you still shoved him away at the cost of being flung from the top of a building.

Not again. Not after Haibara. You’d gladly pay the price if it meant you didn't have to see anyone die in front of you again.

"I..." You managed to croak out—breathing hurt, and you felt your hands being grasped tightly.

"Hey, just breathe. Y/N. Look at me.” Through your blurry haze, you focused on that cold blue, and you saw him. Satoru's sharp eyes, pursed lips and frown. He's really here.

Satoru always said that if there was a cursed spirit apocalypse, then Ichiji would be the first to die. You used to scold him for that, but now as you a laid here possibly dying in your own pool of blood, you found it to be true.

Yet at the same time you knew that with him here, Ichiji must be safe already, and it gave you reassurance so great even when you were on the verge of dying. "I... can't..."

"Yes, you can. Just look at me," he firmly rebuked, his voice came out in a hiss. For all the time you had been with him, you had never heard him so forceful. "If you close your eyes now, I won't forgive you. So please, just hang in there."

It was a struggle to take in any air and darkness encroached on your vision as your consciousness began slipping away.

And everything faded to nothingness.

Satoru honestly thought he had no fears. His worst fear had fully realized after all—Suguru going away into the darkness. What more could he possibly fear?

But when he heard Ichiji's distress call for rescue team, about how you fell from a rooftop of a building and unconscious, he realized that it was a fear he didn't know existed. His mind got disoriented and he teleported to the scene on impulse. He just had to see it for himself. With their petty argument still lacking closure, he felt even worse.

And the sight before him gave him so much fright he never thought was possible.

It was a mistake, he should have brought Shoko along.

You had laid there like a broken doll, your eyes dimmed, and not been able to breathe. He desperately tried to keep you awake, his presence beside you, yet it didn't seem to matter. He watched helplessly as you passed out in his arms.

Satoru felt nothing. The panic that had set in was suddenly gone as your limp body slumped against him, replaced by incessant ringing in his ears and tremor wracking his nervous system. It wasn't long until the rescue team came to retrieve you and even then he still felt numb. He rejected the idea that you might possibly die on him.

That went on until Shoko, who assisted in the emergency treatment, came out of the surgery, sweat on her forehead.

"It's even worse than the aftermath of the guardian deity mission last year," Shoko explained with a grim expression. "Her brain has sustained damage and it affects everything. It may take her quite a while before she can go back to the field."

When she said that, Satoru felt terror washed over him again. You almost died—was all he perceived.

The two of you had no contact for a week just because of his ego. He could still recall that day with vivid clarity, feeling a burning ache in his chest. If someone were to ask him what heartbreak was like, now he certainly would he able the to tell them the two instances in which he experienced them. What he felt now mirrored the same stinging sensation he had felt when Suguru left him.

He visited you when he was allowed to, and you were still unconscious, with many machines connected to your body. It was a sight he still couldn’t bring himself to get used to. He had seen you injured before, but never seen you in your own pool of blood, so this made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Stupid," he whispered, gently rubbing your forehead. His eyes remained fixated on you as you rested, his insides still churning with emotions. "You're not weak, and you're not hopeless." Once upon a time, Satoru might have thought of you as weak, but now he knew better.

"So why you always pick the worst decision?" The more he thought this could've been avoided, the more irked he was. The thought that he could have done something to prevent it intensified the sting of guilt, and he continued to punish himself with it.

And the more he dwelled on the idea that he had hurt you prior to this, the tighter his breath became.

But that was who you were. Self-sacrificing to a fault. And he loved you for that. There was no way of him letting you go now.

It astonished even himself—that he was capable of this love thing. At first it was an attraction, but now that you had been going on for more than a year, it felt like it was no longer a silly infatuation after all.

"Hurry and wake up, will you?" Satoru gently brushed your hair aside, his eyes fixed on you. He didn't know it even as his gut twisted, his frown deepened and his touch quivered, that he was worried sick. "I have a lot to make up for."

And he left you with a tender brush of his lips against your forehead.

Nanami Kento was the first person you saw when you awoke from coma.

You struggled to regain your senses, still feeling absolutely broken. The dull throb on the back of your head was still there, and as if you had found yourself trapped in a fog, you were only able to move sluggishly.

"You're awake?" his gruff voice greeted, laced with concern. In his hand were a bucket of fresh flowers and fruits basket, which he soon placed at the table next to your bed.

It was unexpected, because ever since the tragedy that costed Haibara's life, the two of you had been drifting apart.

You nodded, and let out a hum in response—all you could manage at the moment.

"Thank God." Nanami sounded relieved as he pinched the bridge between his eyes, and you were moved that he had shown this degree of concern.

Your remaining classmate, who suffered the burden of Haibara's life just like you. He was always quiet or brooding somewhere, hiding his own feelings.

You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes. The fact that he visited you meant that he hadn't decided to cut you out of his life yet.

"Gojo-san is out today, but he'll be back by afternoon," he said, mistranslating your tears as some sort of a want to have your annoying—ex?—boyfriend at your side.

The two of you were still not on talking terms, weren’t you?

You so badly wanted to say thank you to him—and tell him that no, you weren't looking for Satoru—but it came out hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"Huh?" Nanami then realized what you were trying to say, and a faint smile graced his lips. "Just... get well soon, L/N. Have a good rest."

Just before you drifted back to sleep, you could hear him sigh and mutter, "Hello, Gojo-san? L/N has awakened. Just letting you know is all.”

You weren't sure how much time had passed when you woke up the second time, but the curtains were already drawn and only darkness came from the window. Your body felt lighter, but you still felt like a mess and and couldn't help but groan in discomfort.

Satoru was there, he perked up at the noise you made. And you realized that it was the first time in about a week that he faced you after that disasterous almost-breakup.

He walked up to you, his expression was more hopeful than you had ever seen him before, like a kid whose wish had been granted. He slowly shifted to sit beside you.

"Hey, welcome back." His voice was soft. It was a change of pace for him, as you were used to seeing him all loud and silly.

Now your voice no longer sounds like a lead. "Hey."

"How are you feeling?" he asked and you took a moment to look at him. He was smiling, but exhaustion reached his bright eyes, dimming them. "You know, with the whole you passing out and almost dying thing?"

His words were almost humorous as he spoke, like he didn't know what else to say except try to lighten the mood, but there was also a strain on his tone, like he was holding back.

"I'm quite fine now, I suppose..." You still felt the lingering pain and dizziness as you slowly sat up. Satoru reached out to steady you—and you realized how his fingers trembled when they made contact with your body—as his brows furrowed with worry when you winced.

"You don't look like it though." His voice dropped and the humor was gone, replaced by this haunted look. You blinked. It was probably the first time you had seem him this ruffled.

He immediately pulled you into a hug, cradling your head to his neck gently, as if to protect and shield you from the world altogether. Exhaling heavily, he leaned on you. "You scared me, you know that?"

You wondered out loud if you really had that hold over him. "Did I?"

"You can't do that to me, you hear?" Satoru stroked your hair, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. His voice quivered. “Don't ever do that again.”

He pulled you tighter against him, but still careful not to crush you.

You let out a snicker, letting go of everything you felt during this horrible week. "Heh, afraid to lose me, huh?"

"Shut up,” he grumbled. “What were you thinking anyway? How did you calculate that freefalling is better than letting that cursed spirit attack Ichiji?”

"He was defenseless. He could die, you know that."

"And you also can," he quipped, upset, pulling away enough to look you squarely in the eyes, his eyes devoid of any expression, yet filled with a raging wave that you could only interpret as undiluted concern.

The emphasis in his tone made you recoil and feel guilty. If you were in his shoes, you probably would've said the same thing and so you had nothing to say to that.

But the more pressing agenda in the list was the unspoken silent treatment the two of you saw fit to use against each other for the last few days. Satoru was the one who decided to address it first.

"About that night..." he faltered, looking away. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."

Satoru always had trouble processing emotions. This time too. He must've a hard time dealing with the anxiety caused by the possibility of him losing you for good, no matter how much he tried to be unaware of it.

"..." You wanted to respond, to make him understand your point, but somehow right now you were just too weary. And he sensed your reluctance. So you blurted the first thing that gnawed at your mind.

“You said you could have any other women out there—”

"No, really—" he started to panic, and it was blatantly too, which surprised you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Us. I don't regret anything. I’m not breaking up with you. Being with you is the happiest I've been ever since Suguru left."

“That's...” you blinked, before letting out a small sigh. “Okay. Fine then. Let's just put it behind us for now.”

“I—” he almost wheezed, his bright blue eyes were overtaken with sheer urgency to explain how wrong everything had been that night. “You must know that I didn’t mean any of it. And that I hate hurting you the way I did. I won’t—”

"Satoru, I understand," you let out another sigh, fidgeting with your fingers. "Sometimes when I’m reminded of Haibara, I also get sad. I don't want to presume but I think I know how you feel. Just next time, maybe," you shifted your gaze on him, seeing how you had his attention fully. Gojo Satoru, the strongest now, was looking at you as if you had his fate in your hands. "Just tell me if you need space and I would have understood."

"Yeah, okay, sure," he responded immediately, relieved, before a lopsided grin appeared on his face, turning him back into your dork slash boyfriend. "So, am I forgiven now?"

"A thank you would be nice."

In the end, he chuckled, seemingly resigned. "You should sleep more."

He positioned himself into bed next to you, and you let him pull you into his chest again. You could feel how his taut back started to relax upon the contact. He pressed his lips on your forehead in a fleeting kiss.

"Promise me you won't pull that stunt again.”

You smirked. "I can't. What if Ichiji—"

"Then just let him die."

You swatted his arm playfully, pressing your head to his chest as he continued to run his fingers on your hair. He cushioned you carefully, and you felt the tension in him slowly melt away with each breath you took. In your mind, you figured he needed this closeness more than you did, if anything, for the sake of his sanity.

“I love you,” he whispered by your ear, kissing it lightly.

“Mmhm.”

As you felt Satoru's calming presence, it helped ease you into slumber. You soon found yourself in a deep sleep, comfortably held in his embrace.

Epilogue

Ichiji gulped as Satoru stared him down, sizing him up as if he was the most despicable creature on this planet.

Okay, he might be. He was a coward, all he could do was trembling in the face of evil. But he had come in peace, even bringing fruits as an offering! He felt bad too that he was the partial cause for you to be this injured.

He was used to Satoru terrorizing him—calling him names, slapping him, and whatnot—and he could take it. Just this time, he really looked like he could murder him on the spot if he wanted to. A small part of Ichiji mourned that you were his girlfriend, because that pretty much sealed his fate that Gojo Satoru could indeed murder him on the spot because he had a valid enough reason to.

"You are—"

"No! I'm sorry, Gojo-san! I'm sorry for my incompetence!"

"Hah?"

If he was mildly irked before, now Satoru was visibly irritated.

"You're not cut out to be a jujutsu sorcerer," he started. "You're useless. You just get in the way most of the time."

Ichiji kept his head down. No, no. He can't cry!

"Get your driving license or I'll slap the shit out of you."

"Oh?" and before he knew it, Satoru had stalked away, leaving him in the dust. How rude! But...

Get a driver license? Quit the jujutsu work?

Hey, that sounds like something I can do!

8K notes · View notes

aliceramblez · 4 months

Text

Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈

Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.

A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!

Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~

Charlie 🌈

When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.

As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.

You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.

As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.

You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.

It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?

But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.

She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”

And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.

She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.

You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.

You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.

Vaggie 🎀

Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.

The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.

“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”

And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.

Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.

“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”

You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.

For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.

During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.

You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!

It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.

Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.

Angel Dust 🕸

Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.

You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.

When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.

This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.

“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”

Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.

As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.

Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.

And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.

Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.

With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.

One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.

You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.

You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.

Husker 🍺

As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.

It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.

Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.

Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.

You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.

Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.

“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”

Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?

After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.

So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?

But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.

To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”

And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.

Sir Pentious 🐍

You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.

As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.

You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.

He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!

You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.

One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.

“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”

You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”

Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.

So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.

Alastor 📻

After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.

As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.

Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.

Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.

“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”

“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”

After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.

You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.

But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.

“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”

The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.

“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”

And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.

Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.

The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).

Like you said—he's not a monster.

Lucifer 🍎

You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.

His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.

Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?

To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.

Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.

“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”

You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.

After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?

Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.

He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.

It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?

Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.

Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”

You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #vaggie x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #sir pentious x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #husker x reader #husk x reader

4K notes · View notes

satowooo · 5 months

Text

I said "I love you."

you say nothing back

Falling in love with Gojo Satoru was as easy as reading the pages of your favorite book, not until you reached the very end of the chapter and the author just loves to twist the story.

contents: it was all a bet trope, angst lol, fluff, hurt!gojo, groveling, satoru gojo x fem!reader, college AU, playboy!gojo, comfort

credits to @/toOOfu for the art above!! ^^

***

September 1, 2023

"She looks like an easy target," Satoru chuckled as he watched you walk over to your friend, Utahime Iori, in the school cafeteria. It was one of those days when he would joke with Suguru and Shoko, with Suguru always making sure Satoru gets riled up by his joke.

Suguru simply told Satoru that girls may swoon over him, but he's sure that they're some others who probably would find him annoying, someone like you. That statement made Satoru cocky, and as prideful as he was, he made it into a bet that he'll make sure to make you fall in love with him by the end of December, enough time to swoon you over.

"We'll see about that, Satoru." Suguru smirked. "The end of December, you say?"

The latter nodded his head, a wide and annoying grin on his face. "Watch and you'll see, Suguru."

The catch? Nothing, just plain fun and feeding his ego.

"Satoru!" Oh, and here comes one of his girls. His flings.

September 2, 2023

Satoru wastes no time. The next day after making their bet, he quickly made advances towards you. After seeing you in the lockers first thing in the morning, he walked over and leaned to the locker right next to yours. And when you turned, you found him there with a smirk on his face.

"Hey, darling..." He said, almost seductively, if not only for the furrowed eyebrows in your face.

"Excuse me, who are you?" Your soft voice echoed in his head.

Now that hurts his ego. Satoru Gojo. Gojo Satoru. The handsome Satoru. The greatest. The flirt. The smartest. The playboy. The Gojo Satoru. The damn Gojo Satoru who you didn't even know who.

His mind was floating elsewhere after hearing your question. As unbelievable as it may sound, you were, unfortunately, serious about not knowing him. And guessing by the look in your face, he definitely was not making a good first impression.

First attempt: Failed.

But he's not the Gojo Satoru for nothing. No, he won't give up just yet.

So he straightened his composure, faking a cough as he flashes his smile that makes all his girls go crazy, and lowers his head to show you his ocean blue eyes underneath his glasses.

He definitely made sure you won't forget his name as he asks forces you to walk you into class, blabbering nonsense by your side.

You were just too nice to tell him to go away.

September 16, 2023

Gojo Satoru was persistent. Walking you to class, even waiting for you outside the door when he was vacant, disturbing your quiet study session at the library, sitting with you at the cafeteria table when Shoko or Suguru was not there. You definitely didn't forget his name this time as he became the annoying Gojo Satoru who's becoming a nuisance to your somewhat quiet life turned into a roller coaster.

During those days, Gojo found out things about you. You were studying at the architecture department, you like arts and coffees as for what he noticed when you were at the library, you were at the top of your class, and you have a few admirers that you turned down in a nice way possible, just like how you were turning him down too.

He also took note of the fact that you were introverted, and a little shy with people so he might just go easy on you. You had a soft voice, however, you weren't as innocent as you came out to be. You are honest with your words, so when you say you're not interested in him, then you're truly not.

You weren't an easy target after all. But Gojo Satoru loved the thrill, you challenged him so much that he wasn't about to give up now that you intrigued him. He wanted to prove to himself that he can get anyone, he can have whatever he wants, and he definitely will.

"It's raining, it won't hurt to get in my car, princess." He said nearly in your ears. You pushed his face away with a look of disgust.

"No way, Gojo. You probably took so many girls in there already, and how can I be so sure you won't do anything bad?" You frowned at him, shoving his chest away as you stand outside the doors of your building, waiting for the rain to stop. You were angry, but damn you can't even raise your voice at him.

Soft. Too damn soft. Can he break you?

Through the days that he came by to woo you, it didn't matter anymore what words came out of your mouth. People may see you as the shy type of girl, but you're not afraid to voice out your opinion, and your somewhat intimidating face speaks a lot for you.

"Jealous?" He laughed when you glared at him. "Princess, I can assure you I haven't taken anyone inside my car. Plus, I can even buy a new one exclusively just for you if it bothers you too much." He grinned, annoyingly.

You gave him a moment of silence, and that sparked a new hope in Satoru's ego that you might be considering his offer now.

"Well... no."

Oh.

But he could only smirk, assuming you were only playing hard to get. Girls always liked when boys chase after them, no?

"I'll walk you home then."

You shot daggers at his back as he ran to his car, and came back with an umbrella. His shirt got a bit soaked, hair a little wet after running to the car, but damn, he still got that annoying smirk on his face.

You sighed, how annoying.

September 29, 2023

He never gave up despite how you rejected him multiple times. He stuck by your side even though you don't want him to, and he was somehow getting into your system. He carries your bag when he walks you to class, or just about anywhere, and you didn't even give your bag to him—he practically forced you. He'd buy you coffee in the morning, making sure he gets the right order, and when you give money to pay, he'd refuse and shove the money back in your wallet. Sometimes, he'd give you sweets even if you don't ask him to, giving you the flavors that he likes the most.

Funny how you can't even get him to stop whatever he's trying to do. No man has ever pursued you like he does.

"Gojo–"

"That's Satoru for you, love." He cut you off with a playful smile. "Haven't I told you already?"

"Gojo." You repeated seriously. His eyes glinted with interest as he waited for your words. "Get lost, please."

How nice of you to say please.

He laughs. He had the audacity to laugh. "You know, you're really cute."

"Look," you sighed tiredly. "Whatever this is you're trying to do, stop. I'm not interested. If you want to get into my pants like you did to those other girls, that's not going to happen."

With one look at him, you snatched your bag from him and walked away with your heart beating loudly. Your face was heating up after saying each word, and never in your life have you turned someone down so harshly.

Satoru watched as you walked away. Sure, that hurt his pride, but he can't let his ego step on so easily.

He left you alone during the day, just giving you the space since he seemed to have pushed your buttons a bit. Plus, he was busy with basketball practice since his coach was already nagging him for not attending their training.

However, your assumptions were only proved to be true when you caught him with a girl at the parking lot the same day. A cheerleader, stroking his chest as if she was comforting him as her other hands wiped his sweat with a towel. You looked at his physique, Satoru Gojo was in his basketball uniform, showing a lot of his biceps. You watched as his adam's apple protruding as he drank his water.

You felt annoyed. Your eyes turning red when you see just how he didn't mind the cheerleader. Of course, Gojo Satoru was a playboy.

Who cares? You definitely didn't.

That's what you thought.

You walked in the opposite direction, just so you wouldn't cross paths. But of course, Gojo Satoru will always see you. After all, he was at the parking lot waiting just for you, and only you.

"Wait up!" You heard his voice from behind, and you didn't even look back, thinking he wasn't calling out for you. You wished he was calling for you.

Satoru grabbed your wrist, and forced you to look at him. "Hey!"

Your brows furrowed, trying to yank your wrist away at his strong hold. "What do you want?"

"Woah... slow down." He said as he grasped your elbows with both hands. His eyes searched yours, his piercing blue eyes staring at the raging fire burning in your gaze. "What's wrong?"

You swear, your brows almost met each other at him. But you didn't want to burst. At least, not in front of him. "Go back to your cheerleader, Gojo." You frowned at him.

He observed you for a minute, then a small smile crept on his lips. Realizing just how much he's finally having an effect on you.

"Sorry," he chuckled.

"What?!" You almost shout at him in annoyance.

"I said, I'm sorry, princess." He repeated. "I didn't think of you as the jealous type. Plus, she was just helping me."

"Help you what? Wipe off your sweat? Since you don't have the hands to do it for yourself?" You glared at his annoying handsome face. "You playboy. I knew you were just trying to play with me." You said, pushing his chest with your pointer finger.

He pursed his lips as he caught your wrist, stopping you. "Now, now, don't think like that." He chuckled. "I'm sorry, I'll be sure to push those girls away so you won't be mad at me anymore."

And damn, he was true to his words. He didn't know what got into him, but he definitely started rejecting every girl that came his way. He didn't even feel sorry, and he even stopped calling those poor girls with sweet endearments as he rejected them.

Gojo Satoru was slowly starting to feel something for you. But he doesn't even know it just yet.

In a span of a month, he successfully got into your system.

October 6, 2023

"How's the deal going?" Suguru asked as they walked together to their class.

"Poor girl, I heard from people that she's nice." Shoko added, shaking her head at them. "Though people may see her as intimidating, they said she's really kind. A soft voice, and all that. Shouldn't you stop, Satoru?"

"Nah, I think I'm enjoying this." Satoru shrugged.

Of course, Satoru definitely felt something tugging at his heart. He definitely liked having you around, since you were giving just the right thrill to rile him up, he loved every rejection, and every attention you gave him. But somehow, he was feeling a little guilty. But he's too prideful to even admit that.

"Plus, she's friends with Utahime. That girl hates you a lot, Satoru." Shoko said. "You wouldn't want to hurt her best friend."

October 13, 2023

"Didn't I tell you to call me Satoru?" He raised his eyebrows at you as he accompanied you in the library, placing a coffee and a small cookie right next to your books.

"We're not friends, Gojo."

"Right, since you're going to be my girlfriend."

You shot him a look, sighing as you turned the pages of your book. "What do you want this time?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to spend time with my favorite person." He smiled, opening his books too. "I'll study with you. I promise, I'll be quiet."

You didn't respond to that, just expecting him to keep his words. And when he did stay silent like he promised, you were already thanking god for having to hear your prayers.

As the hours went by, you slowly fell asleep, your head resting in your arms as your books laid discarded. Satoru looked at you, a small smile crept on his face as he gently stroked your hair.

He stood up, organizing your books in a pile, taking your pencil case as he shoved your pens in them and putting it inside your bag, he got the empty cup of coffee that he got for you and threw it in the trash can, and he did it all so as to not wake you. He waited for a few hours, tenderly watching you doze off, before he tapped your shoulders to wake you up so he could take you home.

October 18, 2023

Maybe Satoru felt guilty now.

He twists and turns in his bed, thinking of you and how you put up with him everyday. And everything you do, never escape in his eyes as he finds himself memorizing you.

You'd smile at him nicely, despite how your eyes show how annoyed you were.

Your feet would tap the floor when you get too nervous.

You don't even know but you unconsciously hold a piece of fabric in his shirt when it gets too crowded, hiding behind him when there's a lot of people.

He notices how your hands move gracefully as you trace your art project, eyes furrowed and focus on getting your work done.

Truthfully, he adores your smiles. The way your eyes would squint every time your lips stretch in delight. He held your hands once at his attempt of flirting, and it was so soft that he couldn't even get himself to let go. He loved playing with your soft, silky hair whenever you fell asleep in the library, staying by your side until you woke up. He also loved your silence, the comforting atmosphere that you give off seems to calm something in his heart. When he manages to get a proper conversation with you, he just wants to melt every time he hears your sooting voice.

And nervously, he thinks he's starting to like you.

October 23, 2023

Slowly, Satoru became a part of your day. Somehow, he managed to finally be friends with you, and still, you refused to call him Satoru, indicating that you still cannot allow yourself to be casual with him.

That's fine. He can settle for whatever you can give him. For now.

"Baby, there's a basketball game coming up this Friday..." Satoru trailed off. You were almost going to point out his endearment, but then again, it's Satoru, and you were slowly getting used to him.

"What?" You asked. "So?"

"I bought you tickets so you can watch. It's two tickets, so you can bring your friend."

He didn't even ask if you wanted to, but then again, for a hundredth time, it's Satoru. He wanted you to watch his game, nonetheless.

And you did. Your seat being close to their benches so he can see you easily.

October 27, 2023

"Seriously? I'm about to watch our school's basketball game, because Gojo Satoru invited you?" Utahime said annoyed as you both sat at your assigned seats.

"Well... yes..." You said shyly, looking around at the amount of people in the stadium. "You know, we've been hanging out a lot–"

"I told you, he's bad news." Utahime cut you off. "How am I supposed to get that in your head?"

"I know, I know... But he's actually been nice. Haven't you notice?"

Utahime thought for a moment. Of course, she noticed some changes. Gojo Satoru seemed to be spending his time with you lately. He didn't even care about his ex flings, or his admirers, he was solely focused on you. Usually, Gojo would take a girl wrapped around his fingers in a day, and then disposing them just as quick after he got what he wanted. He looks like he's not like that to you, Utahime thought. Though, she hated his guts, Utahime knew you were enjoying having him around.

She sighed, "Just... don't get hurt, okay?"

You chuckled at her. "Why would I?"

After the game ended, with your school cheering loudly at winning, Utahime said she had to go home quickly, so you were left alone.

You didn't know what to do, or where to go. Satoru was busy with his teammates, talking and congratulating each other. Satoru wanted to go to you quickly, but his fans surrounded him, stopping him from going your way as they celebrated their victory.

Satoru knew too well that you didn't like the crowd, so he was trying hard to escape from it.

Your eyes watched as his fans congratulated him, asking for pictures, and even giving him gifts. You sighed, texting him that you'll be going home since he wasn't about to finish anytime soon.

You understood that he was famous, and all that. He's Satoru Gojo, after all. And it's another part of him that you're still not used to.

A part of you was proud of him. And you couldn't possibly be selfish about him, especially if you only recently got to know him.

Satoru hurriedly ran away from the crowd, excusing himself politely as he saw you walking through the exit doors. He got his bag, and ran to catch up to you.

Thanks to his long legs, and his intense basketball training, he was able to catch up to you quickly. "Hey!" He called.

You turned as you heard his voice, seeing his disheveled hair and sweaty forehead as he ran to you. "Gojo, hey, I texted you and–"

"Hey..." He greeted, panting heavily.

You pursed your lips, getting a handkerchief from your pocket so you can wipe the sweat off his face. "Why did you leave them? Everyone was celebrating with you."

"You weren't there." He frowned. "What's the point of it..."

Satoru was tired after the game, but he was regaining his strength once he saw you.

"Nonsense." You chuckled, in which he frowned even more.

"I'll take you home." He said as he holds your hand to his, leading you to his car. "I invited you anyway, it's my responsibility to take care of you."

You nodded, getting in his car since you had been tired from all the crowd.

When he reached your home, he quickly got off so he could open the door for you.

Oh, the little things that he does.

You both stand outside of your house awkwardly, both trying to find the right words to say. You looked away, tapping your feet nervously as Satoru watches you.

"Congratulations... Satoru."

Satoru... Satoru... Satoru... His name never felt so good until you said it. It was like an achievement, a big prize that he won in his life. And his heart was almost about to explode when you finally called him by his name.

Satoru almost stuttered thanks to you. Slowly, he was approaching you until your back leaned in his car.

He closed his eyes, as his head fell on your shoulders. "Say that again... please?"

"Huh?" You were confused, your face blushing at the proximity. "Congratulations?"

"No... say my name... please, baby?"

His voice was so soft, desperately asking you to say the words he longed to hear from you. Satoru felt weak in his knees.

He looked up at you finally, his eyes searching your soul. Despite the darkness of the night, his eyes were glowing brighter than the moon.

"Satoru?"

"Fuck..."

Satoru Gojo knew he's in danger.

The moment he locked eyes with your eyes, looking at them until it darted on your lips. Before he knew it, he was leaning down for a kiss.

And fuck it, just how dangerous it was that you weren't even pulling away.

October 28, 2023

You were confused when you saw Satoru at your front door the next morning, his hands holding a bouquet of flowers. He looked absolutely handsome in his shirt, his sleeves tucked until his elbow.

You blush when you remember what happened last night. "Satoru, what are you doing here? It's a Saturday."

"I know," he said, handing you the bouquet of tulips. "I missed you."

"H-huh?"

"Will you allow me to take you out on a date?"

His heart was at bliss when you said yes to him. It was a simple coffee shop date, but you felt so happy as he made sure you were also comfortable and having fun. Having casual talks with you, but this time, there was a lying affection between you two.

And when he took you home, he slowly sealed your lips in a kiss. Exploring your mouth gently, smiling as he pulled away.

October 30, 2023

Satoru finally told Suguru he wants to stop whatever game they started with each other.

"Just about time you do."

Satoru swears he felt his ears heat up when Suguru said those words with a teasing grin. Shoko was laughing at his flushed state, clapping her hands in delight.

"Ah! I knew it!" She exclaimed. "Knew you were going to fall on your own trap. Well, that's actually good."

Satoru blushed even more. Finally, he can admit that he was starting to like you. Love you even.

In all honesty, he felt like he couldn't even live without you in his life. He felt like every moment with you was precious, and he was desperate to make you his, seriously this time.

All those times that he accompanied you to class, were influenced by his own choice. He could've just left you alone some days, but he didn't even know he was doing all those things unintentionally. Buying you snacks, and your coffee, he could've easily stopped that after every rejection, but he chose not to.

Gojo Satoru wanted to always be a part of your day. He was already a part of your present, and he wants to be there in your past, and still be in your future.

November 3, 2023

Satoru, as usual, was eating lunch with you in the cafeteria. Everyone in the school knew by now that he was not entertaining anyone anymore, just you. And he made it that obvious, looking at you so lovingly everyone who passed by would've looked at you in envy.

"Why aren't you with Shoko and Suguru?" You asked as you take a sip of your coffee. You looked over to the table where his friends sat, both busy at whatever conversation they had.

"They don't mind." Satoru replied, scooting closer in your seat. "You should get used to it by now."

"To what?"

"Sitting with you during lunch." He smiled when you looked away. "I like being with you."

Your mind wandered off somewhere when he said that. Does he like you or does he like the company that you give?

November 10, 2023

Satoru was frowning at you when he saw you sitting with another guy in the library. At your usual spot, in his seat, in front of you. He was annoyed that someone even had the guts to make a move to you.

Slowly, with heavy steps, he approached your table, sitting at the vacant chair next to you. His hands wrapped itself between your waist, as his jealousy pulled him to kiss your cheek in front of your innocent classmate.

"Baby..." He whispered closely in your ear. "I was looking for you."

He looked in front to shoot daggers at the guy you were with. The innocent stranger blushed as he looked away, "Uh... I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I'll message you if I need help."

The guy hurried on his feet, stumbling as he exited the library. Satoru's arms tighten on your waist and you looked at his angry face.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Who is he and why is he going to message you?" A frown was evident in his face, and he was getting a little too close. You had never seen him this intimidated.

"That's my partner for a group project, idiot." You muttered the last word. "You scared him off."

Satoru pulled you close, nuzzling his nose against your temple. "It's annoying..."

"What's annoying?"

Satoru cursed under his breath, "Come on, I'll take you out to dinner."

But while he was driving, it was painfully silent. You're not used to this kind of mood, he was always playful and teasing, but now, he was glaring ahead at the car in front of him, as if the car did something wrong.

His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and for some reason, you find yourself putting your hands above his, running circles on his tensed ones.

His hold loosened up a bit, and he sighed heavily.

"Tell me, what's wrong, Satoru."

Satoru pulled over to the side, facing you with a nervous face. "I'm sorry..."

"For what?"

"I was... jealous." He answered truthfully. He frowned, not liking the feeling twisting in his stomach. "I've never felt this before, baby. I want to keep you to myself, to always have you by my side and not anyone else, and it's so selfish that I hate myself for it. You're driving me crazy, and fuck it, I love you. I love you for making me like this. You don't understand... I'm head over heels–"

You interrupted him with a kiss. Satoru didn't even realize that he was already confessing, not until he felt your mouth against his.

It felt like there were fireworks exploding in your surroundings. Feels like he was finally breathing for the first time ever. Like the summer melting his winter.

"I love you too, Satoru."

He felt like dying right then and there, cupping your cheeks in a hungry kiss. Pulling you to his lap as you both make out in his car.

"Can I be your boyfriend?"

How can he be so cute, muttering those words weakly underneath you?

His question was not even a 'will you be my girlfriend' but a 'can i be your boyfriend?'

It was so cute. He was asking you your permission, he was asking to be yours.

He was... surrendering his heart to you.

And who were you to deny him?

November 20, 2023

You found out Gojo Satoru is a clingy man. It was obvious, the first time that he never left you alone, but this time, it only got worse, in a good way though.

He holds your hand when you're together, not even caring when girls would look at the two of you jealously. He doesn't care if a teacher sees him snuggling his face against your neck, he just wants to be that close to you. He will ask for a cuddle every time you two spend your time in your house. He would dart his tongue out teasingly at Shoko and Suguru when all of you sat at the same table, and he was hugging your waist and leaning his head on your shoulder. And when you two are in a private space, especially his car, he'd pull you in his lap for a long make out session.

You weren't even complaining, since you loved him just as much.

"Utahime!" You smiled when you saw your best friend in the cafeteria. "Haven't seen you in a while."

Utahime gave out a tired sigh. "I know, the professor is always giving out so many tasks, I might pass out anytime soon." She chuckled. "How are you? You and Gojo? He's like a lovesick puppy always sticking by your tail."

You chuckled. "That's so exaggerated, Utahime... But I'm really really happy."

Utahime was glad to hear her only best friend was this happy. She was thanking god that Gojo finally decided to be serious over a girl for once, and if he ever just breaks your heart, she'd be so sure to be the first to kick his ass.

December 4, 2023

"You're still with her?" Gojo's ex flings, Jia, asked him during his basketball training. Jia was the cheerleader girl that you saw him with in the parking lot, the fling that Satoru had for a month, longer than usual. He already rejected her, but she's still desperately trying to get with him.

"Of course, I am." He muttered, annoyingly. He snatched the towel that she was holding, her attempt to help him wipe his sweat. "Jia, I already told you–"

"Isn't she just a bet?"

Satoru froze, as if a bucket of ice was dropped all over his body. Her voice rang in his head, and he blinked furiously a few times.

"She's not–"

"But I heard you and Geto." Jia smirked, knowing she was just pushing the right buttons. "Come on, you were at the cafeteria, were you not expecting someone to hear you? I was pitying her when I saw the poor girl slowly starting to–"

"Whatever you heard, Jia, is none of your business." Satoru said in a cold-hearted tone. "I love her. Get that in that little brain of yours." He scoffed, walking away.

Jia was furious, her eyes turning black in anger. Oh, she wanted to hurt you. She was the last fling of Satoru, and just because of you, he was acting like this. She didn't like the fact that you easily stole him from her.

December 13, 2023

The fall. The breaking point.

Suguru was having a party in his house, a public year-end party with a few of his college friends and blockmates, everyone was invited to have fun. Satoru took you with him, making sure to just stay by your side so you won't get lost at the sea of people.

"How are you two holding up?" Suguru approached you two, handing a cup to Satoru. "You two having fun?"

You nodded your head quietly. "Yeah... there's a lot of people. Are they all from our university?"

"Some are outsiders," Suguru chuckled. "Satoru, we're about to play by the pool. We'll wait for you there."

Satoru nodded, pulling you by the waist as Suguru left. "You okay, baby? Do you want to go home?"

You shake your head, "No, no, it's fine. We can stay a bit more."

"Mhmm, just tell me if you get tired, okay?"

You two walked together to the backyard, where the swimming pool was at. It was a bit crowded, but definitely fewer than inside Suguru's house. Shoko was there, a few of Suguru's friends, and Satoru's basketball teammates. They were all passing out their drinks, mixing whatever liquor was there.

Everyone said hi to Satoru, even to you. You watched silently as a few of his friends talked to him.

"Satoru, I'll go to Shoko first." You whispered above the noise. He turned his head at you, stopping his conversation with his friends.

"What? I'll go with you then–"

"No, it's fine, Shoko's just there." You said, pointing at Shoko who was lighting a cigarette right next to Suguru. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

Satoru nodded reluctantly as he let you approach Shoko and Suguru, turning back to his friends, glancing at you once in a while.

But when he wasn't looking, Jia just had the perfect timing to enter the scene, stopping you midway.

"Oh, it's Satoru's little toy." Jia slurred her words. You looked at her confused as she looked at you judging. "He's still not breaking up with you? He wants to hurt you that bad, huh?" She chuckled.

You were trying to assess her words. You recognized her as the cheerleader Satoru was with last time, and her aura and words were making you nervous. What was she trying to say? What did she mean by that?

Satoru saw you, and his breath hitch when he saw who you are with. He looked over at Shoko and Suguru, who both stood up to approach you, but Jia was already taking advantage of you being alone.

"Poor girl," she frowned teasingly. "I'm pretty sure Satoru didn't want to go too far with the bet."

"Bet?" Your voice came out hoarse. You looked over at Jia's shoulder, where Shoko and Suguru stood frozen in their spot, their eyes widened in horror, and it gave you just enough explanation about what's happening.

"Oh, they were just betting about how Satoru can make you fall in love 'til December." She laughed wickedly. "I'm sorry, honey, you had to find out this way, but really, I was feeling sorry that I have to tell you–"

Her words were cut short when you felt a hand on your wrist. And you turned to see Satoru, his eyes red and shaking, "Baby..."

"Satoru? Was that true?" You looked into his eyes, hopeful. Your eyes welled up in tears, and his silence just made it worse. His hold on you was trembling, and he couldn't even say the right words out of his mouth.

You looked at Suguru and Shoko, your eyes pleading. "Shoko? Suguru?"

Another silence. It's like something was pulling the strings of your heart, threatening to cut your lifeline. And it hurt so much when they couldn't even say something.

You heaved a gasp, trying to stop a sob to escape your lips. But you failed miserably as Satoru tried to pull you in his embrace. "Let me explain–"

You pushed him away furiously, eyes angrily glaring at him. "Explain? Explain what?! That what she said was true?!"

Satoru's hands balled in a fist, and he felt his eyes burning as you pushed him away from his touch. His heart aches when you look at him full of hatred, and hurt. He felt his world slowly crumbling apart when you ran away in a hurry.

You quickly called Utahime, asking her to pick you up as soon as possible. While Satoru stood there helpless, his feet glued to the ground. He looked at Suguru, his eyes searching for help.

All of you were equally shocked, and nervous.

"Fucking go after her, Satoru!" Shoko shouted as she pulled Jia's hair. "Fucking bitch!"

The latter cried, but Satoru couldn't care less as Suguru pushed him to move. As fast as he could, he ran outside the door of Suguru's house, walking past every dancing body, he didn't even care if he crashed into someone, he just wanted to get to you.

And when he found you walking by the sidewalk, his heart started crying at your panicked state. He approached you, holding your wrist to stop you from walking any further.

"Satoru!"

"Let's talk, please–"

"Let go of me!"

"Let's talk, baby. Let's talk this out." He pleaded desperately, hands grasping your shoulders to stop you from moving.

Your body trembled against him, hands covering your face as you tried to stop your tears from falling continuously. "I hate you."

"I know you do–"

"Fucking jerk."

"I know, I know–"

"Don't touch me!" You burst, pushing him away harshly. His heart crashed into pieces, his breath coming out shallow and slow. Just like you, he was crying just as bad. "I knew! I knew from the very start you were up to no good! Utahime warned me, my friends warned me! But fuck you! I thought you actually cared! I thought you loved–"

"I love you, baby..." He said, weakly.

"You lying skim! I thought you changed!"

"Please, baby, let's talk about this when we're not angry? Please?" He tried to reach out for you, but his heart felt like it was losing its strength when you back away.

"I don't want to see you–"

"N-no, you don't mean that..." His voice came out as a whisper, a desperate plea for you to listen to him. "I'll take you home, we'll talk, okay? I'll explain and–"

"There's no use, Gojo."

Cruel. How cruel of you to say his last name so coldly. It was a sign that Satoru refused to look at. A sign that you were tired, that you want to let this go already.

His beautiful blue eyes seemed to lose its life, the same way that he was losing you. One moment, you were there by his side, and now... you looked at him as if you wanted to get him out of your life.

And it hurt so bad. It hurt so bad when he tried to touch you, but you still furiously backed away.

"I love you." His voice cracked, looking at you weakly. His hands shake by his side, fighting the urge to reach out for you.

You breathed heavily, shaking your head at him as you said nothing back. You clenched your teeth, not wanting to let him hear your sobs. You're starting to pity yourself, of how stupid you had become. You should've listened to Utahime the first time.

December 14, 2023

Satoru had never felt this lifeless before. Even Shoko and Suguru couldn't help him as he refused to talk to any of them.

His eyes were searching for you everywhere in the cafeteria, but to his dismay, you never showed up the whole day, not even in your classes. He wanted to ask Utahime when he saw her walking down the hallways, but the girl only glared at him as she walked passed. And Gojo was just as helpless as ever.

He messaged and called you a few times, but you didn't answer. He wanted to go to your house, but he can't even find the courage to do it.

December 15, 2023

Satoru finally saw you after a day of absence. You looked tired, and he was mentally cursing at himself for making you like this. He was starting to hate himself, and he's not going to forgive himself anytime soon.

Satoru tried to approach you, but you didn't even dare look him in the eye. He bit his lower lip, trying his hardest to stabilize his breathing. Just like he usually does, he walks you to class, only a few steps behind this time.

Fine, he'll settle for this. He'll give you the space you needed first before anything else.

At the cafeteria, he didn't see you once again. That worried him as he left Shoko and Suguru to look for you. The first place he thought of was the library, and he was glad to see you there.

You glanced up from your book, feeling someone staring at you. And you were right as your eyes met with Satoru, and your heart ached as your brows furrowed at him.

You looked away, trying not to be affected.

All throughout the day, Satoru thought of you and your last interaction. Every time the memory flashed in his mind, he wanted to punch himself. Hurt himself twice as much.

He fucked up so bad, and he wanted to make it up to you.

So he finally had the courage to wait outside your classroom's door after his class, waiting for the professor to dismiss everyone. He didn't waste anymore time as he got by your side quickly when you walked out the door.

Your name rolled out his tongue slowly, and you stopped dead on your track.

"I'll t-take you home..." He stuttered, his eyes searching yours for any emotion. But your eyes were dead, not even a single anger, or love for him in there.

"I'm fine, Gojo. You can go away–"

"I'm not going away."

You turned to him furiously. It was like you two are back to square one, to the first time you two met, and no one should ever forget that Gojo Satoru was persistent. But this time, two hearts were breaking and in a need to mend.

"P-please, let's talk–"

You didn't respond as you walked away fast, but damn his legs for always being able to keep up with you. Despite how Satoru took the hint that you don't want to talk to him, he still didn't care. It didn't matter to Satoru if he couldn't take you home with his car, he'll walk with you instead, like how he used to.

He'll be quiet. He just wants to be with you.

December 16, 2023

You hated Saturday classes. And you hate it even more that Satoru Gojo was tailing you behind. Trying his best to get you to talk to him.

"Baby–"

"Don't call me that."

He coughed awkwardly, blinking his tears away. "You didn't eat lunch today again, let me take you–"

"Cut the crap, Gojo."

He gulped when you looked at him, with hatred in your eyes.

Maybe, just maybe he can settle for this. Look at him. Just look at him. At least look at him, even if you don't want to love him anymore. It's fine. He understands. Just look at him.

"Stop with the act already. I'm so tired of it. I'm so tired of you."

"I'm sorry..." He muttered against his breath. "But I can't. Not until you listen to me." Not until you take him back.

"There's nothing for you to explain anymore, Gojo. I've had enough, and I get it. I understand as bright as day that it was just a game–"

"It's fucking not." He gritted his teeth. As much as he didn't want to be harsh, he was so desperate in wanting you to lend your ears to him. "It wasn't a game for me. And I did love you. I fucking love you still. Yes, it was a bet at first, but I told Suguru that I wanted to stop. He knows just how much I love you. Shoko knows. Fucking everyone knows at this point. Why can't you just listen to me?"

He catches his breath as he finishes voicing out his words. But no, you were a little hard in the head. You wouldn't believe him that fast. You didn't want to hurt your heart again.

"I don't love you."

You didn't know what gave you the urge to say that. It wasn't really true, but the wrong words seem to be the only right words to cut it out.

If Satoru's heart is already breaking, he was sure it is now turning into ashes. You're a liar, he tried to convince himself. You love him, and he's not about to give up just yet.

December 18, 2023

You can hurt Satoru how much you want, but that will never stop him from loving and chasing after you.

Another frustrated sigh came out from you when he left a cookie on your table to your first class, with a note saying, 'I love you. Don't forget to eat.' with his name underneath and a heart. You didn't even know how he managed to put these on your table so early in the morning, and your heart just wants to surrender.

But no, you're not.

So, even if it comes out too heartless, you offered the cookie to the person next to you as you crumpled the note, throwing it away inside your bag so no one would see it.

During lunch, Satoru saw you at your usual table, and tried to sit with you. But you got up in a hurry, pulling Utahime who just got back from the bathroom with you.

Being angry at him is one thing, but avoiding him? No, he can't take that. He'd rather have you stay mad at him, scream and hurt him verbally, even slap him if you want, but giving him the cold shoulder was you telling him that he doesn't exist in your world anymore. Satoru's heart is barely living at this point.

Satoru cursed to himself, standing up and going back to Shoko and Suguru who looked at him with a sad smile.

"Give it time, Satoru."

But time doesn't seem to be on his side.

And fate doesn't get along with you on your most desperate days as you watched the rain poured down once again. It was like deja vu. Standing outside the building, waiting for the rain to stop so you can go home.

But the rain was falling a little too harsh, and you know it's not about to stop anytime soon. It was like the rain also had a turmoil within itself, crying heavily just the same way your heart did.

You hate yourself for always forgetting an umbrella as you take a step, lifting your bag to your head, as you let the rain soak your clothes. It's the last day of school today anyway, you're finally taking your Christmas vacation tomorrow, and it wouldn't hurt to get sick for a few days.

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru comes to the rescue at the right time.

He held an umbrella as he ran after you, being careful as he strides so he won't trip on his feet.

He called your name, stopping shortly when he finally got you under the umbrella and pulling you close by the waist.

"I'll take you home." He shouted above the rain.

Your body trembled in the cold, and Satoru was embracing you like he used to. He didn't even mind if you got his clothes wet. But you still have the guts to push him away. "No! I can go home by myself!"

"Stop being stubborn!" Despite holding you with one hand, his other hand holding the umbrella, he still managed to keep you on your feet, his hand squeezing your waist tightly.

"Gojo–"

"Stop it!"

"Let go of me!"

"You're going to get sick!"

"I don't fucking care!"

"No, I'll take you home–"

"Gojo Satoru!"

Satoru gave up as you writhed from his embrace. He dropped his umbrella, using both his hands to grab your waist, and kissing you in the rain.

His tongue was invading, seeking every corner of your mouth desperately. Fuck, he missed this. He missed you so much. And he didn't even care if the rain was slowly ruining his hair and clothes, as long as he had you right here in his arms.

It was a dangerous dance underneath the cold waters beneath the rain. Two lovers, hopelessly trying to heal their broken hearts. Their lips tangled together like it was their last chance to be like this again.

"Satoru..."

"I'll take you home..."

How did you let yourself become weak for him?

You handed him a towel as both of you entered your home. Despite how upset you are with him, you couldn't possibly just leave him wet by the rain and catch a cold. You were just being nice, you said to yourself. It's not because of your affection towards him, you're just being a helpful woman who still has a heart so you invited him into your house. Thats it, that's all there is, perhaps.

Before you can leave him, Satoru holds your hand, electrifying the two of you to stop you from your tracks. You tried to look at him in the eye, but it was impossible. Satoru doesn't even try to hide how much he's hurting in front of you, and that just doubles the pain that you're feeling right now.

"Let's talk..." He said weakly. "Please? I'm not leaving if we don't talk."

"Satoru, please, just let it go..."

"No," he shakes his head stubbornly. "You mean so much to me."

Your breath hitched as he pulled you close, cupping your cheeks with both hands as he leaned his forehead against yours.

"It's true, we did make a bet..." He closed his eyes, the words falling in his mouth felt like daggers shot straight to his heart. "And I hate myself for it. For being a prideful jerk who wanted to prove he can have whoever he wants, and hurting you in the process..."

Satoru breathed heavily, his hands rubbing circles on your cheek. "Before I knew it, I was down badly on my knees. I wanted you. I love you. I wanted to spend each and every waking moment with you. And I told Suguru, and Shoko, that I wanted to stop whatever game we agreed upon, so I can start loving you truthfully..."

"Satoru..."

"And I felt so alive, baby. When you told me you love me too, when you let me be your boyfriend, when you finally accepted my love for you. Fuck, I can die a happy man. I just... love you. I love being loved by you. I love it when you let me love you. I love it when you do nothing and it just drives me wild. I love it every time I see your eyes looking at me. I love hearing your voice, seeing you smile, and love it even more when you let me hold your hand! I love every single piece of your soul, and I want you. I want to always be with you. My heart aches for you, baby... please..."

He was crying. Oh, god, he was crying as he confessed everything to you. And you swear your heart wants to come out from your chest.

Your heart was swelling, he was mending your bruises, healing your scars in every word he uttered. Your tears were falling nonstop, and your hands quiver to place it above his.

"Satoru..." You sobbed, looking at his helpless blue eyes who'd been crying buckets as well. "I hate the fact that I love you so much."

Satoru heaved a gasp as he pulled you to his embrace, sealing you in a wet kiss. Somehow, it didn't even feel cold anymore now that you have your arms around him again.

His face settled on your neck, and he was catching his breath. He ran his hands in your hair, holding you tight as if he was afraid to let you go.

"Don't leave me again..."

"I won't. I promise." You let out a low chuckle. This time, you cupped his cheek so he could look at you. "I love you so much, Satoru. I'm so sorry for hurting you."

"I deserved it." He smiled. Finally, he was smiling at you. "And I love you more."

Satoru made sure he's not letting you escape this time. Everyday, he's going to make it up to you. He's going to tell you how much he loves you, and he's going to make sure you'll never even forget it until you fall asleep. He's going to love you like it's breathing, and he promised to himself he's going to love you until the next lifetime.

***

i know i said I'll do the part 2 of my Suguru fic, but im so sorry this was in my head for ages 😭 i promised ill start part 2 in a while... anyways, thanks for reading! its not proofread so im sorry for any typographical errors and spelling ^^

4K notes · View notes

cheralith · 1 year

Text

to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader 」

content warnings ; fem!reader, use of she/her pronouns, "mother"/"daughter"/"wife" used, parental death, mentions of child abandonment, not too much mention of him being spider-man

contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, hints of pining, just some good ol' fluff for everyone's current favorite dilf, angst w/ comfort, heavy need of editing prob, not beta read

notes ; purely self-indulgent to fuel my love of found family trope apologies

parts: one two three four (tba)

Single Father!Miguel O'Hara whose life revolves essentially around one person—his daughter—but to be one of the heads of America’s largest corporation and bearing the responsibility of keeping Nueva York safe and sound whilst simultaneously being a single father was not exactly something that Miguel O’Hara could juggle so easily. Hell, he’s even surprised that he’s made it so far without losing his absolute sanity considering he couldn’t even recall the last time he was able to rest properly without his attention being wavered to something or someone else.

Single Father!Miguel whose hands always filled to the brim with tasks and obligations. Miguel wished he was able to clone himself twice in order to have three Miguel O’Haras attending to each of his duties soundly, but alas, Alchemax and the matter of his mind can only do so much.

Single Father!Miguel whose ever so lucky to have you as his assistant to at least help with two out of three of them. You entered the picture around three years ago, when he had caught the eye of his superiors and had used his intelligence to their own advantage, disguising it as a promotion of sorts. You were given as some sort of gift to them as a way to help ease his workload and he truly couldn’t be more thankful for your existence—if he doesn’t necessarily show it most of the time from his stoic countenance he masks on 24/7. While not exactly a carbon copy of him, you, by far, come rather close, and Miguel will take whatever comes to him in this day and age.

Single Father!Miguel who notices that you're obedient and demure, though rather soft spoken and a little too apprehensive for his liking at times (he had noticed, before you became his assistant, that your coworkers would shovel their workload onto you and you’d accept with little complaint but evident hesitation; he wonders if it was the given similarities between you and him that made him choose you as his assistant). You dressed well, hung onto every word he said, and spoke out when properly needed. You were a good aid to have around—great, even.

Single Father!Miguel who trusts you as both his assistant and a human being enough to leave his precious daughter in your care knowing full well she would be in good hands. Sometimes Alchemax would work him overtime, sometimes his duties as Spider-Man would interfere. No matter what it was, it delayed him from seeing and attending to his daughter’s needs, and thus, he had asked you once in a while to pick up and babysit his daughter after your usual 9-5.

Single Father!Miguel who, at the beginning, once in a while asked you to pick his daughter up from school. Once in a while turned into occasionally. Occasionally turned into sometimes. Sometimes turned into constantly, and next thing Miguel knew, you were the one that his daughter and teachers would look out for during school pick up time. He didn’t expect that you would become his assistant even outside of work, but you did, and Miguel can’t exactly turn back time now. He’s labeled you as his child’s unofficial secondary caretaker—you’re even listed as an emergency contact.

Single Father!Miguel who thinks you’re too polite for your own good. Miguel had asked you once if this was a burden, being his assistant both in and out of Alchemax, and if it became too much that you were more than free to quit at any sudden time without consequence. You had merely replied that you understood the struggles of being a single parent and that he shouldn’t be ashamed of asking for help when it was needed.

Single Father!Miguel who notices that Gabriella views you more than just her occasional babysitter. When he'd come home late at night, he was usually greeted by you two doing something together, whether it be doing math homework together, baking cookies, you reading aloud to her, or just simply talking, he'd always catch you and her almost... bonding.

Single Father!Miguel who often dwells on the memory of young Gabriella asking innocently why she doesn't have two parents like the rest of her classmates, why she only had one parent compared to everyone else after witnessing she was the odd one out during Family Day. Miguel didn't, and still doesn't, have the courage to tell her that her real mother had abandoned her to him, leaving Miguel in the dust. Miguel used her naivety to his advantage. He disguised it as her being unique compared to others, that some moms just came later in life; she just happened to be a late bloomer.

Single Father!Miguel who always thanks you for staying late tucking Gabriella into bed when he couldn't. You constantly tell him that it's truly no problem, but he insists on thanking you every time and ever so subtly increasing your paycheck. How could he not? Especially considering the fact you always, always whip him up extra dinner that was tucked away for him to eat during the late hours of night.

Single Father!Miguel who feels uneasy as he opens up a fridge to find the said pasta left by you one night in a glass tupperware container, staring at how neatly it’s been plated despite its standard container. He juts it into the microwave as he attempts to ignore how quiet and desolate the kitchen and the apartment is, how the humming of the microwave and the humdrum of the ceiling fan are the only noise that floats through. And when he quietly eats the pasta serving meant for one, he can’t help but gaze longingly at the empty seat across the dining table, where someone else should be seated with him sharing the same meal.

Single Father!Miguel who finally has the time to pick up his daughter after school for once in the school year, but forgot to tell you that you were able to take the rest of the day off. So you, him, Gabriella, and essentially everyone are surprised when both you and Miguel show up to pick Gabriella up after school. One of the teachers goes to gush about how she's excited to meet Gabriella's dad and what a beautiful family you all are, to which you and Miguel, evidently flustered, explain loosely your relationship to each other and how it's merely professional (to one curly-headed third grader, though, it's not—but she'd never tell you and her father that. At least not now.).

Single Father!Miguel who tags along to Gabriella's after school soccer practice for once and despite your protests about you not wanting to interfere "family time", Miguel and his daughter convince you to come watch her like you usually did on Wednesdays. He says he doesn't mind at all and if anything, could use your presence there to ease his nerves since he'd be a newcomer to the soccer parent group.

Single Father!Miguel who watches attentively to how you support Gabriella on the field from the sidelines. He wonders tenaciously if you've fallen into routine of this—from helping her get ready into her uniform to offering small suggestions that help her on the soccer field. He doesn't miss the way her eyes go towards you whenever she did something right and he especially catches onto the fact that she would gush in pure happiness from your approval when you would throw a thumbs up or a delighted nod.

Single Father!Miguel who merely blinks at the compliments given by the two friendly soccer mom next to him.

"Gabi does certainly look a lot like you, but she still has (Y/N)'s beauty and kindness, doesn't she?"

"Oh yes, I agree. Your wife is nothing less of lovely, you know, you're a very lucky man, Mr. O'Hara!"

He's so caught up in trying to process both their words and Gabriella's action on the field, that it doesn't register to him until a few moments later. Miguel attempts to butt in, saying that you're just his subordinate, but when a loud cheer from the other team erupts through, his words fail him.

Single Father!Miguel whose mind is still so stuck on what the soccer moms had said about you that he didn't even realize Gabriella had made the winning goal for today's practice match. Lying through his teeth when asked about if he saw it from her, he realizes that perhaps he should start viewing you in a different light rather than just his daughter's babysitter because the way that Gabriella looks at you with such elation when you congratulate her on her win pulls at his heartstrings ever so slightly.

Single Father!Miguel who contemplates over and over again if he should be doing this—inviting you to Gabriella's first game of the season—the two purchased tickets he held in his fist. You've entered his home a dozen of times, but this would be the first time in three years that he was outside of your own residence. He thinks he's too dressed up for the occasion, cladded in a white button up and black dress pants. A voice asks him if he's his daughter's boyfriend, and Miguel whips around to face an elderly man with a questioned look on his face.

Single Father!Miguel who realizes that it's your father standing in front of him, spare key in hand. He's quick to say no (to your father's disappointment), and introduces himself as your superior. Your father invites Miguel inside your apartment, telling him that you were out fetching groceries and jokingly mentions he uses this opportunity to sneakily fill your cabinets and fridge of food. Your father complains you're too independent for your own good, but he can't exactly blame you—you grew up that way.

Single Father!Miguel who learns that once in your life you were just like his daughter and that in one point in your father's life, he was just like Miguel. All details shared from him, he learns that your mother passed away early in your life due to cancer and ultimately left you and your father to fend for yourselves. Your father tells Miguel that you often had helped out even when you didn't need to—and it doesn't take long for Miguel to piece the pieces together. Why you barely complain about the extra workload, why your father said you're too autonomous, and why all those years ago you not only sympathized with Miguel, but understood his situation as you came from the same exact upbringing.

Single Father!Miguel who listens intently when your father quietly tells him that all he wants for you is to find a good man that would be able to take care of you properly because he believes he wasn't able to. Miguel is quick to reassure him, however, that he did a fantastic job raising a selfless, humble woman that grew to be compassionate and considerate of others' needs, that you were the hardest worker he had ever seen and that he shouldn't discredit himself. Your father goes to examine Miguel for a moment before letting out a loud, haughty laugh in your apartment and jokingly (not really) tells Miguel he hopes that you'll marry him one day, or at least someone like him.

Single Father!Miguel whose resolve dissipates when you walk into your apartment to find your boss and your father talking amongst each other. He sits silently and awkwardly as you complain to your father about dropping by without any warning before you ask him what was he doing here in the first place. Your father takes his leave, winking at Miguel with a glint in his eye, leaving you two in your apartment alone.

Single Father!Miguel who finally gathers up the courage to ask you if you'd like to attend Gabriella's soccer game with him. You interject with visible hesitation, telling him that it was implied that it was a family-only event and you'd hate to intrude onto something so intimate, but he's quick to reassure you that his daughter would love to have you there considering all the help you had given her during her practices—if anything, she would need you there for your support.

Single Father!Miguel who tells you that Gabriella had shown visible distress last night when Miguel told her that you might not be able to come due to your non-familial relationship with them. He almost begged you to come with them, as Gabriella had even threatened to quit soccer altogether if you weren't there to witness her first game. When you give in after moments of contemplation, Miguel truly couldn't believe his luck.

Single Father!Miguel who roots alongside you for Gabriella and her team, watching oh so closely just in case someone from the other team did a dirty trick on his precious daughter. He'd sometimes occasionally glance at you, only to see you completely zoned in and focused on Gabriella's playing like the rest of the parents, offering your support through compliments and encouragements that his daughter always caught and would visibly improve from. When she finally scores the winning goal per usual, she's quick to ignore the cheers coming from her teammates and parents to run off the field and not look for Miguel first, but for you.

"Did you see me?!" Gabriella exclaims excitedly as she flings her arms around your waist. "Did you see what I did?!"

"I did, yes," you laugh, attempting not to stumble over from the impact with visible glee and crouch down to her height. Pride written all over your face, you grin. "And I'm so incredibly proud of you."

"It's 'cause I did what you taught me," she declares. "I pointed first and then I shooted!" She uses hand gestures to reanimate her play on the field.

"Shot, Gabi," you correctly gently, your fingers going to automatically comb out the tangles out of her hair like you usually did after practices. "It does come handy, doesn't it?"

"Yeah!" Her eyes go to see Miguel, who doesn't stalk too far behind with open arms and the same proud look painted on his face. "Dad! Didja see me?! Didja see that I scored?!"

Miguel lets out a once-in-a-blue-moon chuckle and lifts his daughter into his arms, her arms wrapping around his neck in an affirming hug. "I saw very clearly, mi cariño, and I can't wait to brag about how my daughter scored the winning shot for her team," he compliments warmly.

Gabriella goes to point gleefully in your direction. "It was all because of Miss. (Y/N)," she declares, not knowing that her statement would make a rush of heat bloom onto your face.

"O-oh no... I only... w-well," you stammer out meekly, trying to find the right words. "I'm actually not too knowledgeable on soccer... I only repeated what I found online and—"

"Thank you," Miguel starts off fondly. "(Y/N), truly. Thank you."

You stare at him. "Mr. O'Hara..."

He sets Gabriella down for her to join her rejoicing teammate and pats the small of your back with a grateful look plastered on his face. You were so used to seeing the rather stoic and often tired side of Miguel O'Hara that you forgot he, too, was capable of smiling at times, so when you spotted the small of a grin on his lips that was for you specifically, you felt something in your chest jerk a little bit.

"If it weren't for you being here," he starts off quietly so only you can hear. "Gabi wouldn't have participated at all. She wanted you to come so she'd have enough courage to play because she was so used to you supporting her," Miguel glances at his daughter giggling about on the field. "So it was understandable that if her biggest supporter wasn't here to cheer her on, she wouldn't exactly do her best."

You blink slowly at him, digesting his words in order to truly savor them for all that they were. "I was just—"

"—doing your job?" Miguel finishes for you. He shakes his head. "Last time I remember, 'attending your boss's daughter's soccer games' wasn't on your job description," he says, earning a soft chuckle out of you despite his rather flat tone.

"I suppose so," you murmur with an evident warmth in your eyes, one that Miguel is sure Gabriella has seen numerous times and will continue to welcome as long as you're around.

So when after a dinner celebration at her favorite restaurant, after the star player is tucked into bed after a long day's work, Miguel takes it upon himself to do the what he thought was the impossible for him but possible for Gabriella.

"Stay safe out there," Miguel directs quietly as he helps you put on your coat again. "And again, thank you for today."

"It was my pleasure, Mr. O'Hara," you reply, "And I actually had fun today, so I can thank you for that."

He escorts you down the apartment complex to the lobby and begins to watch you leave, the words on his tongue tipping ever so slowly before they spill the moment you're about to exit through the doors.

"(Y/N)."

At the sound of your voice, you turn to him with a questioning look on your face. "... yes?"

Miguel opens and closes his mouth like a fish for a couple of seconds before blurting out, "Are you free tomorrow evening?"

He scans your face for a reaction before surprise paints itself on your moonlit features. "I-I suppose I am," you nod slowly. "May I ask why?"

"Gabi is having a sleepover at one of her teammate's house," Miguel coughs out and shoves his hands into his pockets to hide their fidgeting.

"Do you need me to drop her off...?" you ask, clearly puzzled.

"No, um," he clears his throat again. "I was... I was actually wondering if you'd... if you'd like to check out that new restaurant that opened up on Clark..."

Regret pools in his mouth the second it falls from his lips and he begins to internally conjure some sort of half-assed lie, perhaps saying something along the lines of the company wanted him to review it for a potential cater in the future or that a friend of his worked there, but when he sights your eyes softening with the same warmth from earlier, he lets you take the reigns on fate.

"I'd quite like that," you murmur, a modest smile on your lips.

a/n ; i told you i was going to give into temptation. wrote this on a plane with no wifi on the way here (thank god for offline editing!)

anyways, i'm trying to squeeze this bit out before my plane ride tmrw since i've been travelling for the past week and a half! i'll be returning home soon where i can finally write to my heart's content, phew! i just reallyyyyy wanted to write something for miguel adjdjfkfalwf but fear not! we shall be back to our regularly scheduled program soon!

as always, thank you for reading and likes+comments+reblogs are always appreciated and never unnoticed（╹◡╹）♡!

#spider-man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #across the spider verse x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #fem!reader

9K notes · View notes

connorwhumpaddict · 2 years

Text

Deserving of pain (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Epilogue

Summary: Connor is finally allowed back in the field after he’s recovered from his synthetic muscles’ severe malfunctions (caused by Reed unbeknownst to everyone). Unfortunately for Connor Reed sees their new assigned case as a perfect opportunity to make his next move in his plan to show everyone how 'useless' the android is. And Connor must suffer through yet another painful ‘malfunction’.

---

Chapter 3: Sensory overload

John and Hank had brought Connor home and John had kept a close vigil over the brown eyed detective for two whole days as he ran every test imaginable to try and identify the cause of the painful muscle spasms the android had suffered through. But despite the tech’s best effort he’d not been able to offer any certain diagnostic. Whatever had caused the error had seemingly disappeared as fast as it had occurred. Best bet was that it’d been a passing malware virus that had somehow managed to not be filtered by Connor’s many firewalls until stasis mode kicked in. But the aftereffects of the attacks still lingered. John had needed to recalibrate all of Connor’s larger muscle groups after he was pulled out of emergency stasis, which had been a slow and yet another painful ordeal for the detective, as he’d needed to stay conscious for the procedure to complete the necessary wide range motion sequences to do so.

Despite technical advice, Connor returned to the precinct after his recalibration three days after the incident. His motions were stiff and more robotic than ever as the synthetic tissue still needed time to heal completely, just like a human would from overexertion. But Connor had insisted to return with the promise to John, Fowler and Hank that he’d only be doing behind the desk work until he was given an all clear for active field duty again by John.

Reed found himself watching with great satisfaction as the android would struggle with basic day to day tasks. One day the Tin Can hadn’t even been able to pull off its own blazer because of the sheer soreness in the newly recalibrated arm and shoulder components. Its pathetic wince as it tried had filled Gavin with great pleasure. But his show was ruined when Miller and Pearson had rushed over to aid the pitiful machine. Miller helping to gently pull the garment all the way off and hanging it on the back of the office chair and Pearson who then ushered the android to sit and proceeded with a 15 minute long shoulder and backrub to ease the worst pain and soreness from the synthetic, but still sensitive muscle groups. Just as Pearson finished with a soft smile and a last comforting stroke across the broad shoulders, officer Lewis walked past and placed an iced coffee flavored bottle of thirium on the android’s desk, offering a reassuring smile and a gentle pad on the shoulder as well. Reed’s teeth grinded as he watched the pitiful plastic prick accept all this unwarranted attention with a thankful look and a quiet thank you to all of its caring colleagues.

Clearly his coworkers had yet to learn that they were wasting their time caring and trusting what was basically a glorified toolbox. Reed rubbed the pocketed remote with his thumb absently then, contemplating on repeating the incident again then and there, but thought better of it. Better to bide his time and choose his next plan of attack carefully. Messing with the thing too often might get him caught and besides, he liked the thought of Tin Can regaining a false security in believing the last error was a one-time thing. Oh, how fun it’d be to break it down slowly and watch people losing faith in the ‘perfect’ machine everyone seemed to think it was.

Finally, a week after the incident Connor was once again feeling more like himself and no longer like one giant, walking bruise. Therefor he’d requested John for a reexamination to determine if he were ready to return to the field as well and was now sitting bare chested on the exam table while the tech ran his tests.

“Take a deep breath for me.” John requested as he kept one palm on Connor’s abdominal and the other between his shoulder blades, feeling the synthetic muscles contract and relax naturally, without and lingering tension or spotting any wincing on Connor’s face as he added a bit of pressure on the exhale.

“Any pain?” He asked anyway.

“No.” Connor answered.

“Hold out your arms for me.” Connor obeyed immediately, extending his arms out in a T shape from his body. John went to stand in front of him and placed one hand firmly on each of the detective’s forearms.

“Resist my pressure.” And pressed down hard.

Connor’s arms didn’t budge the slightest.

“Good! And now the legs.”

Connor stretched out both legs in front of himself and John repeated the test as he pressed on his legs. Again, they didn’t move an inch and Connor showed no signs of discomfort.

“Very good. All your readings are within normal perimeters as well. I believe you’re in all clear again Con. I’ll inform Fowler when I’m done updating you journal.” John said with a soft smile.

Connor returned the soft smile with one of his own as he pulled his white dress shirt back on and began buttoning.

“Thanks John, I really appreciate your help and concern. We’re lucky to have such a skilled technician available to our precinct.”

“Yeah, some technician I am. I couldn’t even figure out what caused your muscle cramps.” John replied sullenly, feeling inadequate for not being able to reassure more firmly that Connor wouldn’t risk suffering from the same malfunction in the future.

“Don’t say that. My diagnostic software is state of the art technology and I couldn’t identify the error either. But whatever it was it’s gone and I have you to thank for my speedy recovery.” Connor was quick to reassure.

“Now stop it!” John pointed strictly with his stylus but couldn’t help the smile forming on his face. “I’m the one who’s supposed to make you feel better! Not the other way around!”

Connor grinned and pulled on his blazer with a quick motion before straightening his tie. “Can’t it go both ways?”

Trying hard but failing miserably in hiding his blush at the combined grin and comment, the technician was quick to return his gaze to the tablet in hand while continuing his notes. “Of course! Yes, well I should get done with this so you can get back to work. I’ll see you soon Con.” And quickly turned around in a fluster only to turn right back again to point with his stylus once more. “But not too soon alright, or I mean.. Not up here like this. Keep safe for once, please?” The tech added softly.

Connor smiled warmly, finding the technician’s concern and care for him was causing a warm feeling spreading throughout his chest, which was illogical. John was a very skilled and compassionate technician, appreciated among all the precinct androids, Connor knew. His treatment of Connor was surely no different than what he offered all his patients. And yet, when the tall blonde looked at him with those strikingly deep blue eyes, attentive mixed with slight concern, like right now, it made Connor feel special, valued.. Significant. Emotions were still kind of new to the deviant, so it was hard to pinpoint exactly why John’s gaze had that effect on him, but he did know it was a pointless train of thought to pursue. Still, he responded the tech’s plea earnestly “I promise I will try, John.”

John’s eyes lit up brightly at the answer and his dimpled smile returned, and the rosy blush seemed to grow a tad darker. He gave a curt nod in responds, before turning to finish his journaling and allow Connor to return to his own work.

As the android excited the elevator to the bullpen Hank immediately looked up from his works, along with several others in the office space, all eager to know if their friend, partner and colleague had recovered properly to return to active duty.

“Well?” Hank asked in a mixed tone of impatient and worry “What’s the verdict kid? You back with us a 100% precent?”

“I am.” Connor confirmed happily. “John gave me an all clear for full return to the field.”

It was as if a collective sigh of relief went through the whole room at the news.

“Thank God, I don’t know how we got by before you Connor. Your real time analysis lab work and ability to run immediate reconstructive scenarios on scene makes cases run so much smoother!” Ben exclaimed loudly and set off a series of muttered affirmations across the space.

“It’ll be nice to have you back in field Con, your DJ skills are missed! Yesterday Lewis got to pick the music enroute to scene, I thought my ears were gonna start bleeding!” officer Brown complained.

“Hey!” Officer Lewis exclaimed in a mock affronted voice.

Reed had to stop himself form not visibly rolling his eyes and sneer as the whole room continued to relish in the ‘good news’, that the deviant was giving a full technical clearing. He still had to try and play the role of redeeming colleague to the thing, but like hell he was going to join the outrageous claims that the plastic prick had been missed or needed on any of his cases. Only good thing was that now that the thing had seemingly recovered completely it was a golden opportunity to take it back down, he just needed an opportunity to strike again.

Just as that thought had crossed the detective’s mind, Fowler excited his glass office and made his way towards the crowd that had gathered around Connor, in long confident strides. His face was unreadable as usual, set in a slightly strict grimace as was custom for the authoritarian Captain. He stopped in his tracks as he reached the assembly. “Connor I just received a report from John that you’d been cleared for full duty.”

Connor stood a bit straighter and more at attention at the approach of his commanding chief. “That’s correct sir.” He affirmed.

“That’s good, but I want to hear it from you yourself before fully reinstating you. Are you sure you’re feeling completely healthy and mended? No one here will think any less of you if you feel like taking a few extra days on the bench.”

“I do sir and I know, but I’m ready to join the force fully again.” Connor answered confidently.

“Well thank fuck, because we have our work cut out for us with this one.” Fowler growled and held up a stack of casefiles in his hand.

He started passing them out to his chosen team as he briefed. “Four people were found dead this morning in a penthouse suite at the Hallman hotel downtown.” Files were handed out to Hank, Connor, Ben, Collins, Miller, Wilson, Pearson, Thomsen, Tina and Reed. “I need a fast process on this people, so I’m sending a large team. I expect results and leads fast, understood?”

“Yes sir!” the ten man group called out collectively before getting ready for dispatch. Reed was trying not to seem too eager, as that kind of behavior was out of character for him, but he could hardly wait to arrive at the scene. He had a feeling this was a perfect opportunity mess with everybody’s misplaced office favorite and he knew just how to do it.

---

As officers had arrived on scene they found all four victims laying close together in the main room of the grand suite, a mix of red and blue blood splattered on most surfaces, they had their work cut out for them. Hank automatically stepped in as leader in command as he was the highest ranked of the group and effectively distributed assignments to the team.

“Alright, Collin and Miller take a walk down the hallways and knock doors to try and find some witnesses, someone is bound to have seen or heard something judging from the mess of this damn crime scene.

“Yes sir.” The two officers answered in unison and excited the penthouse to get to work.

“Wilson and Tina, I want you to go back down to the front desk reception. Ask them if they know anything about our victims and find out if they have any surveillance of the entrance, reception and hallways that we can go through.” Hank continued.

“Right away Lieutenant.” Tina answered but before she went, she caught Reed’s eyes and mouthed a quiet ‘behave!’ discreetly at the detective. Reed merely raised his shoulders and eyebrows slightly as if he had no clue why she would ask that of him. He missed the old Tina, the one who’d laughed at his jokes when he mocked the employed androids at the precinct and once shared many of his viewpoints, maybe not quite as liberal as him, but still it’d been a bond between them. He was saddened to witness his partner and one of his best friends on the force to fall victim to the revolutionary brainwashing saying that android lives were equal to human lives and that the machines had ‘feelings’ and a right to freedom. Most of all he hoped this mission of his would be a step in the right direction to show Tina how wrong these thoughts were and how useless androids really were compared to humans. They were better thought of as tools as before the revolution to make human lives easier, but definitely not equal to them!

Tina and Wilson also disappeared through the door to make their way down to reception. Leaving the last five of the team waiting for instructions.

“Connor and Ben you take care of what forensics you can on scene.” Hank continued, Connor being an obvious choice as he could run most samples right away, teamed with Ben because he had a natural knack for the field as well.

“Pearson, Thomsen and Reed, us four are gonna work the rest of the rooms. You all know the drill, mark anything out the ordinary, report back to me if you have any leads to pursue.” Hank finished his instruction with his gruff voice. Everyone spread out to carry out their own orders.

Reed suppressed his wicked grin, so excited to carry out the next phase of his plan. He’d prepared himself well and made sure he could navigate the settings he wanted to mess with on the remote discreetly from his jacket pocket without looking, so it wouldn’t be obvious what he was doing. He had to be careful with so many people around, especially Anderson. He had the feeling Hank was the only one on the force who wasn’t fooled by his fake apology to the Tin Can and he wasn’t about to let his fun end by getting caught red handed! Anderson had walked to the master bedroom at the other end of the suite while Pearson was checking the rest of the massive living room and Thomsen went to the check the bathroom. Reed eyed the spiraling staircase that led to a loft under a glass ceiling that housed an extra lounge area, overseeing most of the ground floor, it was perfect. He ascended the staircase at leisured pace, watching as Ben and the walking plastic lab knelt at the first victim, a young man sprawled out on a large beige carpet. When he reached the top Reed kept close to the edge of the loft and pretended to be busy examining a bookcase filled with various books and decorations. His spot offered him a perfect surveillance point to the rest of the suite, especially the Tin Can.

“Alright kid, tell me what you see, your eyes always catch much more than I can.” Ben grunted as he and Connor looked over the dead young man on the ground laying between them. Connor’s eyes roamed over the body and Ben could just barely make out the slight change of the pupils nestled in the warm brown iris as Connor’s eyes scanned and zoomed in on noteworthy details.

“The victim identifies as 26 year old Collin Hart, an assistant producer to the D-Kay recordlabel located on Canfield St downtown.” Connor was quick to offer. “He has multiple defensive wounds on his arms indicating he struggled with either a single or possible multiple attackers. His clothes have stains that suggest he hasn’t bathed of washed up for at least three days. It’s possible this is a group of people who’ve been on a party bender, known to occur in his industry’s environment that have somehow ended badly, but I’ll await further speculations until I have gathered more evidence. First I’ll have to determine if there’s any alcohol and/or drugs in his and the other victims’ systems.” He followed up.

“Well, I don’t think I can remember a time your hunches have steered us wrong. Do what you gotta do and make your tests. Meanwhile I’ll start to mark what evidence I can and start a scene report.” Ben offered, standing back up with a groan as his old knees creaked.

“Yes, a good place to start.” Connor agreed.

“Let the show begin.” Reed thought giddily. He pulled up the remote, careful to keep it hidden as he quickly established the connection before choosing; [Oral analysis range // Adjust depth of analysis on oral test samples // Adjust sensitivity below]

[Oral sensors // Current setting 35%]

Just like last time Reed was able to adjust a bar to determine the sensitivity of the Tin Can’s oral analysis sensors and how comprehensively an analysis was going to be. The android had just dipped two fingers in a small blood sample and was about to place it on its’ tongue as was its’ normal disgusting procedure.

Reed quickly adjusted the setting as high as it could go.

[Oral sensors // Current setting 100% // WARNING current setting will require an excess processor and power usage // Nonvital functions will be down prioritized // Risk of longterm damage to model]

Reed smiled. “Perfect.”

Connor placed his two fingers at his tongue and gently licked his sample, expecting only to receive his desired information on blood type as well as alcohol and drug content. But as soon as the microscopic sample touched his tongue, he was immediately bombarded with an onslaught of test results;

C̭͓͚̝͓̰ͩ̅̇̎o̶̗̞̦̣̺ͧ̊mp̴̻̝̔̽o̶̥̗̠̦̔ṇ͉̪͉̤͕̼̫̃̀͟e̅ͮ͐҉͓̜̩̙n͔͓ͤ̕ţ̣̼̗̻̪̯̉̇ ̦̫̹͕̜̤͙ͩ̾̇͘ͅN͒̆͏̹̠̞̭̬̣̻ő̩̻̻̠͓̜̞̝ͬ͊́͡ȓ̛̖͇̬ͤͥm͎̫͕̱̻̮̓ͩ͡ͅa̝̖̭ͣͭ̓͒͡l̲̠̪̭̺͈̈́̐̒ ̵͚̳̰͇̉̿ͅr̫̱̆ͅȃ̷̠̮̫̹̱̀̾n̈́̋̃g̛̻̠̬̘̜̋̏e̪̘̭̓ͅ ̷̖̬̤ͭ͂ͩ͒r̞̲̬̤͆ͫͮ̕e̓҉̙̰̱̥͉ͅd̎ͤ̊̅͏͕̯̗̙̻͙̩ b͖̬͔͔̱̠̞̌͟ͅĺ̘̼̤̙͙̩͎́̊͊͟o̜̼̪̯̽͒͡o̰̮͍̳͓̰̎̇ͩ͞ḍ̰̠̞͎̰͗̽̑͐͟ͅ ̧̺͔ͣ̂̎ͅc͔͓̝̮͈͑͋e̓͌̉̾҉̰͚̖̭͈̝l̛̗̻̤̟̄̈́l̴̥̳̘̫̳̫͕̮͑̾̉s̙̺̑͌͟ͅ ̩͇̬̪̥̘̗̲ͨ͘(̨͈̼͕̗̹̱͇̊̈ͦc̞̦͂ê̞̻̭̅̄͊͝l̘̲̻̼̭̦͎̄͞l̷̪͍̼̟̰͍̒ͭ̓s̛͓̠̪̠̦̩͚͉ͧ ̩͉͕ͩ̎͝r̃̃̈͏̜̭̲̩͇ḙ̵̫̙͉̼̲̻ͨ͂sͤ̇͒҉̺͎̺̲͍͚p̥̞͚͈͆͜o̷͓̞̫̅ͦ̌̆n̠͉̅̾̚͘s̡̳̯̘͚̮̓̌ͣͪĩ̢̼͓̦̳b̙̮͓̜̳͎̥̮̽ͤ̒͠ḽ͓͔͚͉̼̀ͩ͝e̡̟̙̻̤̖̮͔͌ ̴̬̺̹̺͓̉ͮ̽̂f͚̞͎̞̬̯̫̱͆̍͘o͚̙̟̻̳͗͌̌͞r͙͈͇͐ ̋̀͏͍̠͖̩̬c̶̦̬̿̄̓̆a̞̳̥̙͐̓ͪ̕r̥̞ͪ̐͟r̨͚̟̤͇͔̎ŷ̼̜͓̖̗̙̦ͭ͝ͅi̛͍̗̳̺ͥn̹̣̳̍̇̀ͨg̴̖̞̗̲͔̹̳̀̆ͬ ̇͑҉̜̼̣̗̦ȯ̡̫͈͙̎͊̄x̺͍̫̬͈̳̥̩̂̈͟y͐҉̝̗͚g̦̱̬̺̟̹̲͈̉́͘e̴̱͔͇̺̦ͪ͋ͨͦn̖̳̙̼͉͈̆͗̍͞ ͬ҉̰̭̻̩͇t͎̳̤̣̭͉̲ͩ͐͞h͕͓̐ͪ̊͆ro̢̼̣̪͕̭ͫͭ͒̈ũ̳̯͇̖̹͔͍g̠͓͕̤̜̳͙̼̉̐̕h͌͏̞̝̘͎o̶̳͓ͤͧ̃̚ͅų͕͙͈͓͉ͫ̏ͧt͉̘̝͌ ̜͇̫͖̣ͧ̊ͣ͝t̤̻̹̞̺͇͇́ͩ͢h̴͚͔̟͈ͯ̍̀̉e͖͚̫̭̪̓ͭͪ͞ ̫̭͙̆b̖̹͕̻̓̌̔͘o̚͏͓͙d̠̦̦̦̭͓̩̝̏͂̔̊͢y̯͚̖̗̝͑͐̆)̛̳͕̝̹͓͚̫ͮ̊̃͑ͅ ̉̂

↳m̛̱̝̣͔͋̎ͦͅa̵̬̮͍̣ͩl̨̠͖͍͒̉̽͛e̺͓̮͖͎̋͛̕:̴̺͚͚̝̪͈̑̾̿ ̷̖̩͍̜̊ͫ͒̃ͅ4͎̙ͭͮ͌͝.̶̦̭͈̻̩̾ͣ3̭̲̞̜̹ͮ̈̊ͅ�̢͔̳̅ͤͫ̉�͊͌͏̺̟͇̲̱̮ͅ�5̳̘͓̹̻͖͔̙͐̓̓̂̕.̽̇͏̹̲͖̹̥͉̫9 ͎̺͍̞͓̪ͮ͗̎ͯ͝m̺̙̫̫̃ͩ̿͟ͅi͙̮̠̖͕̠̿͜l̟̠̯̰͕̗̝̤ͮ͌̾̌͟l̶̠̣͆ͩ͛i̍͌͋ͣ҉̤̭͍̠͓̻͇ǫ̭̠̭͇̫͉ͨn̻̱̣̻̤͑͛/̮̯͍͛̆̏̄͞ͅm̧͈̲̣͗͛m̡̭̯͓̖̰ͭͫͤ͒3͓̙̟̐͢;̟͈̱̺̝̪̍͂:̲̱̺͍̱̱̼͈̌͘ ̬̺̭̣̠̪ͬ̅͆̚̕3̧̱͇͚̰͈ͬ.͎̩͗̅̐͠5̡͖̠͎̤̆̅�͖̠̟ͬ͠�̛̹̣̭̟̼̏̑�̢͔͍͖͔̬̗̬̓5̷̭̯̣̫̬̹̉ͤ.̦̼̑ͨ̔ͬ͘ͅ5̛̲̹̱͚͑̑ ̶̗̭̻̮̺̻̪̲̅̋̈m̊ͫ҉̱͓̤̻̰ĭ҉̰̺̭̘̗̳l̴͖͍̮͈̝̓̇̿l̟͈̱̫̺̺͖̋͋͒̏i͕̖̪̩͔̞̙̟ͭͩ͠oń̹͓͉͈̜̗̰͇͘/̷̩̜̟͑͗̑͌m̡͈̳̥̰͈̳̿ͧm͔͙̏̐ͫ͢3ͩ́͏̮̭͎ ̵͓̖̻̹͙̮͆̐͐ͅw̎̋́ͮ҉̟̳h̴̤̜̙̫ͥ̈ȉ̠͖̖̪̠͍͕̏̍̕t̛͔̦̝̂eͦ́̐͏͙̬̖̘ b͓̳͕͈̪͇͙̩̅̋ͪͨ͟lͩ͂҉̯̮o͙̘͓͇̱̖̍ͪ̈͝ò͈̝͈̪ͭ̔̓͘ḍ͚ ̢̪̰̠͉̻ͨc͎̲̬ͫͬé̢̫͙ͯ̉l͇̞͉͚̃̓͠l͓̞͚̻͈̯̣̆ͩ̓s̛̯̲͕̅͛́ͧ ̲̰̫̠̖̍̕(͍̻̃͌̈̄͞i̷̱̟͚̞͙̦̊ͫ̅m̶̯͖͍̎ͦͭ͊

t̴̖̪̰̄͂h̙̞͍̹̓͌͌͡e̛͎̜̘̪͈̭͌ͫ ̷̼͈ͮb͇̫̰̦̽̎͑̉l̛͇̳̙̮̳͎̱͐ͅoo̪̘̻̰͎̫̻̿̓̆͢d̺̮̼ͧͩ)̛̪͓̦̜̮̑ͦ̋ ͚͇̪̱͈̟̻͋͘1̢̩̱̱ͧ̓5̛͍̼̖̬̙̣̇ͤ̎0̋ͭ͏̤͙,̮̰̼̠ͣ͛̈́0̷̼̦̳̟̹̼̿0̷̻̝̣̟̟ͣ̒0̡̺͚̃�̶͈̗̼̦̉̏�̭͈̖̭̘͔̥̅�͔͔̊̂͜4̢͈̟͇̪̉0̴̲͖͇̖̖̽̍0̼̭̞̝̏͂͆͢,̦͈̝̏̊̓ͨ͞0͉̪͔͍̝ͧ̕0̠̗̰̦̄̃ͤ0͇̼̤̥̮͇̭̄ͅ/̣͓̭͕̙̥͐͐͑̿͜m̻̱̆ͫ͠m̛̝͚̻͖ͥ̍̈ͫͅ3̵̟̟̝̭̘͎͉̰̂ ̧͖̪̝͉͓̭ͣ̋́ͯͅḩ͔͈̳̈́̿̌é̷̱͈̲͎m̢̞̫̲̫̠̱ͤ͛ȍ҉͈͉͇͍̱̦͙g̺̥̒̃͐ͨ͢l̲̱̗̹̟̘̗͒͡o̡̼̘̊̏b̖͎̝̩̘ͫ̊ͥ͜i̢̙̤͇͇̩̻̹͎ͪn͉̤̬̝͖͚̲ͫ̉̅̇͢ ̪͍̗̼͈̞̪͉̉͒ͥ͞(̢̠̲̇̚p͓̮̝̘ͤ͞r̾͊͌̃͏̳͍̖̟̯ō̵̳̬̰̳̉t̻̥̜̮̦̿ͣ̽̌͢ḛ̰̘̪̞͈͂͊͡ị̖̞͎̋͘ṉ̮̯̈͐͆͟ ̡̩̹̦͈̤̹̾̀w̴͓̟̚ͅiͪ̓͊̉͏̟͍͕̞̫͇ẗ̡̘̱̜͎́͒ͯͅh͖̟̠̥͖̩ͤ͠ḭ̖͚̪̤̗͐͊͡ͅn̹͖̪̎̕ ̖̙̫̤̓̀ͯ͠ť̡͚͚̝͓̭̓̍ͬh͙͚̖͖̗̗͇ͭ͊̅ȅ̑҉̜͍͍̣ ͚̹̣͋͝r̅̊̆͏̩̱̮̹̪̥ͅe̢̖̲̤̮̫͒̋d̵̞̪̼͍̗͍͍̟̔͑ͫ͊ ̴͍̘͚̰͓ͧͅb̛̪͇͍̋̐ļ̯̝͇̟̔̾̃́o͙̣̜̩͖̓̽ͪȯ̶̱̭̙͍̖̤̳̏d̡̻̥̩̠̎̆ͦ ̡̺͕̱̣̯̹͇̻͌͋̅̚c͕̘͉̳̫̩͚̓ͫ̃͠e̳̬̚͝l̢̪͍̱̝̣̝͚̉̈͋l̹̘̲̯͖̠͐ͥ͡s̷̝̰͔̭̪͓͕̼̔ ͧͮ͒̏҉̝͖͇̟͉ṯ̶̟͓̬̠̹͛͛̚h̰̪̳ͨͯ̍ͫ͝a͎͕͉ͥ̅͢ͅt̷̼̯̫̹͖̋̄ͥͫ ͍̦ͫ̑c͖͍̯̲͚͓̽͜a̡͙̞͍̜͓͂͗̓r̷͇̟͖̤̻̣̗ͦͅr͉̣ͨ͑i̢̮̩̣̺͍ͪ́͊e̟̫͔̦͚̱͖̠ͩ͑s̟͔̒͝ ̶̬͍̟͚̺̠̻̋͋o̢͎̺̹̘̗̟̟̘̊̆̉͊x̖̪͊̓̀͠y͇̝̙ͫ͠g̢͓͉̤͎̹̟̈́̂ͅeñ̰̣̤̙͐ͬ̈́͘ ͈̱͓̖̠͔̓̍͜t̅̆̉̊҉̤͍̰̥o̷̙͓͓͓͖͓̤͒ͯ͋ ̷͖̖̜̟̿o̦̼̖̻̭̖͔ͩ̏̈́͡r͔̮̂͢ĝ̡͚̖̣̅a̧̤͖̘̗̻͉ͤ̿̾͗n͙̓͐̒͡ͅs͌̇̔̉҉̝͔͙̭̮͖̺ ̨̻̭̳̱̙̘ͨ̒̈a̵͕̞̪͉̯ͩṉ̵̩̐̈́̓ͧd̷͙̫̥ͬ̆̒ ̷̻͖̥͓̼̓̅t̟̬̝̳̮̤̦̐͒ͦ̚͟i̺̺̝̫ͨ̾̍s̬͔̹̞̳͔̹̓͞ͅs̻͚͔̫̼̋ͬ̅͢uĕ̶̪͇̪̯͆ͮ̓s̜͖̍͞,̶̞̥̳̾͂ͤ͂ ̻͈̣̭̤̩̟̎ͩ͟ḁ̦͚̘̠̝͋ͪ̔̃n̻͇͖̯̳̙͍͕̑ͬ͟d̘̖̭͉̭̭̘͑ͮ̄͆͜ ̧̱̮̺̮̜̀c̛͖̺̗͙͚̑̈ͧͅȧ̯̘͔̤͚̙̝̓͟r̀b̷̞̝̖̺̙ͦ̔o̷̺̟͚̳̒ͥͯ̈́ń̡̺͉̘̬̰̹͊ͅ ̩̘̘́͋ͣͨ̕d̵̙̟̗̬̦̰̬̤͆͑i̵̞̮͎̖͊o̢͓͉͍̫̲̞̮̲͆ͪ̅ͥxi͓̮̞̮̲͚̹͊͘d̷̗̳̭̦̓̔́ͭě̦̯̗̤̹̥̗̊̇͞ ̧̙̫̥̲̤̊b̛̘̤̭ͥͧ̑͛a̵͓̬̬̫̱ͦć͚̰͔ͥͫ̕k̞͓͌̕ ̛̭̜̼̻̥̘͓ͤ̿t̻̟̪̊̍ͮ͡o̜̼̮̮̣͌̒ͫ̎͘ ̖̬̋̈͝t̛͕̱͓͔͙̙̘ͫͨ́ͤh̡̫̲̩̞̻̄e̛̠̳̣ͯ̃ ͍͈͎̰̣͈̲̯͒͘l̙̳̬̫ͯ̉͠u̦͓͙̤̮ͭ̈́ͥ̇̕n̶͇͎͕̠̲̖̯̓̾ͅgs̬͈̱̍ͧ̎̍̕)̬̠̎̕ ͓͚̳̠̒͂́ͮ͞ͅm̜̳̬͙͈̥͓͊̕a̢̩̗̖ͥ̏l̇ͩ̚͏͎̩̻̥͎͙e̵͈̘͇̿͒ͩͯ:̷͕͎ͮ̿ ͐͒ͩ͏͎͉͔͈1̸̘̭̥̤̞̪̭̎3̛͎̠̘̭͓̱̏̔́ͦ.̟͙̦̜̫ͩͫ̓5̼͕͙̞ͦ̍̊͊͜�̶̯̫̳̐̔�̪̮̺̩̤̦̉ͭͫ̓͟�̛̠̟̿ͫ

a̵̬̮͍̣ͩl̨̠͖͍͒̉̽͛e̺͓̮͖͎̋͛̕:̴̺͚͚̝̪͈̑̾̿ ̷̖̩͍̜̊ͫ͒̃ͅ4͎̙ͭͮ͌͝.̶̦̭͈̻̩̾ͣ3̭̲̞̜̹ͮ̈̊ͅ�̢͔̳̅ͤͫ̉�͊͌͏̺̟͇̲̱̮ͅ�5̳̘͓̹̻͖͔̙͐̓̓̂̕.̽̇͏̹̲͖̹̥͉̫9 ͎̺͍̞͓̪ͮ͗̎ͯ͝m̺̙̫̫̃ͩ̿͟ͅi͙̮̠̖͕̠̿͜l̟̠̯̰͕̗̝̤ͮ͌̾̌͟l̶̠̣͆ͩ͛i̍͌͋ͣ҉̤̭͍̠͓̻͇ǫ̭̠̭͇̫͉ͨn̻̱̣̻̤͑͛/̮̯͍͛̆̏̄͞ͅ:̲̱̺͍̱̱̼͈̌͘ ̬̺̭̣̠̪ͬ̅͆̚̕3̧̱͇͚̰͈ͬ.͎̩͗̅̐͠5̡͖̠͎̤̆̅�͖̠̟ͬ͠�̛̹̣̭̟̼̏̑�̢͔͍͖͔̬̗̬̓5̷̭̯̣̫̬̹̉ͤ.̦̼̑ͨ̔ͬ͘ͅ5̛̲̹̱͚͑̑ ̶̗̭̻̮̺̻̪̲̅̋̈m̊ͫ҉̱͓̤̻̰ĭ҉̰̺̭̘̗̳l̴͖͍̮͈̝̓̇̿l̟͈̱̫̺̺͖̋͋͒̏i͕̖̪̩͔̞̙̟ͭͩ͠oń̹͓͉͈̜̗̰͇͘/̷̩̜̟͑͗̑͌m̡͈̳̥̰͈̳̿ͧm͔͙̏̐ͫ͢3ͩ́͏̮̭͎ ̵͓̖̻̹͙̮͆̐͐ͅw̎̋́ͮ҉̟̳h̴̤̜̙̫ͥ̈ȉ̠͖̖̪̠͍͕̏̍̕t̛͔̦̝̂eͦ́̐͏͙̬̖̘ b͓̳͕͈̪͇͙̩̅̋ͪͨ͟lͩ͂҉̯̮o͙̘͓͇̱̖̍ͪ̈͝ò͈̝͈̪ͭ̔̓͘ḍ͚ ̢̪̰̠͉̻ͨc͎̲̬ͫͬé̢̫͙ͯ̉l͇̞͉͚̃̓͠l͓̞͚̻͈̯̣̆ͩ̓s̛̯̲͕̅͛́ͧ ̲̰̫̠̖̍̕(͍̻̃͌̈̄͞i̷̱̟͚̞͙̦̊ͫ̅m̶̯͖͍̎ͦͭ͊

m̼̮̳̙̼̓ͫͨu̮̣̱̱̝̘͙͍ͭͨ͛̊͝n̛̙̯̙͖̄̚ͅe̡̬̳̝̺̦͍ͩͅ ̫͈͇̀̾͠ṣ̝̖̖̺̮̫ͤ͒̿̕y̶̮̙̳̰̾͊s̱̟͉̯̝̩͖ͪ̿ͭ͘tͬͫͮͬ͏͕̪̰̘͚̥é̴̻͇̭ͅm̢͔͓̏́̇͑ ͇̻̥̯̺ͩc̛̖͖̤̪̱̮͗̑ͩẹ̟̯̤͗l̢̲͇̼ͬ̔̐l̥̞͈͕͓ͫ̋͡s̰̟̗̠̝̬͙͍̍ͫ̐̑͝ ̛̩͙̄̄͐į̼͇̟̲̝͖ͬ́n͇͙̫͍ͬ̔̚͘ ̹̩͇̍͜t̶̯͎̟͎̺̭̽̂̃h̭̩̖̝͒͊e̵̪͉̟̘̫̖̝̚ ̢̩͖̙͇͒ͭb̴̬͚͖̘͔̲͇̔ͬ̽̈́ͅlͫ̂͒҉̣̤o̸̲͈͔̦̱͖͑͛ͯ́o͈̹̦͛̔͘d̰̻̼̞̣̩ͫͣ̎)̺̮̺͉͚̣̅ͅ ̣̘̰́̓4̫͍̥̹ͤ̾ͤ̔͞,̌ͦ͛҉̟̩͈̣̱5̴̬͖͉̹̤̖̻̟̅0̶̩͚̳̖̝̀ͣ0̭̲̣̩̽ͥͯ͝�̫͉̫ͫ̿͠�̛̮͍ͣ�̵͚͚̹͌ͥ̓̒1̵͉̖͍͚̏̊ͯ1̸̜͓͈̾̈́ͣ͑,͚̤̞̜̖̥͋͆͡0̞̤̗̅͂͌ͨ͜0̰͙̪̮̦̩ͭ̿̒͞0̍̉ͩ̃҉̝̺͎̦/̺̯̔̚m̩̩͓̘ͬͮ̆̆͜m̠͍͚̿ͭ̏͢3̨̝̟̘̦͓͈͖̀̿̈́͒ ̥̯̻̙ͯ̉͆͞p̳͓͌̔́̎͢l͈͎̫̘̙̩̎͒ͦ͜a̫̯̮̍͢t͉̱̞̺̺ͥ̐̉̓e̓̋͏͖̗͉̳͉̦l̞̹̪ͦ͟ȩ̟͕̟͓͍̬̙͚͑̿̓̚ţ̝̣̫̲̾s̴̫͗ͥ̍̆ͅ ͔̖̘̫͛͘(̢̺̱̟ͥͪ̄͐t̛̼̤̥͕̹̹͙̱͐ͮ̂h̭̗͇͗͗͢ͅͅē̲̖̘̳͙͚̼̗ ̛̼͈͎̦̯͇̫͊̀̌s̺̪ͬ͛ͧ̚͡ṵ͉̠̦̖̩̖̯͒͋̉b̓̌ͮ̀s͇͍͑͐ͯt̡̼̻̩̹̞̆̌a͚͕̭̲̮̥̭ͨ̌ͣ̎͞ͅṇ̢̰͗͌̄ͅc͕̩͓͖͉͔̱ͦ͒ͯͧ͘e̢͇̝̱̩̊̏͊s̢̞̭̎ ͧ͆ͦ҉̺̺͍̖̫͓t̷̼̟̥ͯͤ̌̄h̨̠͓̒͌̍a̻̻̩͔ͨ̉͝ț͉̹̜̦̈́̽ͫ͝ ̰̬͚̖̝̟̏̍̿̐͢ͅc̩͎̰͚̣̎͋ͯ͡o͖̭̞̺̼͍͚͗́͘n̵̼̪̣̺ͭt̫̠̖͇̖̱̠̹ͮͯ̀͡r̛̲͍̘̳̝̞̲ͧͩõ̼̞̞͕̤̑̓̒͝l̨͔͈̼̺̤̱̮̺͋ ̻̰̞̟̺ͩ̅͞ͅt̶̬̖͓̼̣̝͚͌ͦͣ̌h̼̜̟͎ͥ͟e̎̅̍̀҉̳͍͕̼̠͕̜ ̙̰̊͟c̟͕̖̙̤͐͐̒̚͡l͚͕̗̙͓̺ͮͮͦ͠o̡̝͔̻̔ͪ̏͂t̠͖̫̖̼̖̯͛͡tin̰̞͎̲̝ͩ̑͊̿͞g͙̤͚͖̲̲͚̯ͨ͡ ̡̩̩ͪ̊̍o̵̜͙̜̦͒̌f̺̣̩̖̹̑͡ͅͅ ̵͈̻̱̲̉̈ͣͫͅ%↳m̛̱̝̣͔͋̎ͦͅa̵̬̮͍̣ͩl̨̠͖͍͒̉̽͛e̺͓̮͖͎̋͛̕:̴̺͚͚̝̪͈̑̾̿ ̷̖̩͍̜̊ͫ͒̃ͅ4͎̙ͭͮ͌͝.̶̦̭͈̻̩̾ͣ3̭̲̞̜̹ͮ̈̊ͅ�̢͔̳̅ͤͫ̉�͊͌͏̺̟͇̲̱̮ͅ�5̳̘͓̹̻͖͔̙͐̓̓̂̕.̽̇͏̹̲͖̹̥͉̫9 ͎̺͍̞͓̪ͮ͗̎ͯ͝m̺̙̫̫̃ͩ̿͟ͅi͙̮̠̖͕̠̿͜l̟̠̯̰͕̗̝̤ͮ͌̾̌͟l̶̠̣͆ͩ͛i̍͌͋ͣ҉̤̭͍̠͓̻͇ǫ̭̠̭͇̫͉ͨn̻̱̣̻̤͑͛/̮̯͍͛̆̏̄͞ͅm̧͈̲̣͗͛m̡̭̯͓̖̰ͭͫͤ͒3͓̙̟̐͢;̟͈̱̺̝̪̍͂:̲̱̺͍̱̱̼͈̌͘ ̬̺̭̣̠̪ͬ̅͆̚̕3̧̱͇͚̰͈ͬ.͎̩͗̅̐͠5̡͖̠͎̤̆̅�͖̠̟ͬ͠�̛̹̣̭̟̼̏̑�̢͔͍͖͔̬̗̬̓5̷̭̯̣̫̬̹̉ͤ.̦̼̑ͨ̔ͬ͘ͅ5̛̲̹̱͚͑̑ ̶̗̭̻̮̺̻̪̲̅̋̈m̊ͫ҉̱͓̤̻̰ĭ҉̰̺̭̘̗̳l̴͖͍̮͈̝̓̇̿l̟͈̱̫̺̺͖̋͋͒̏i͕̖̪̩͔̞̙̟ͭͩ͠oń̹͓͉͈̜̗̰͇͘/̷̩̜̟͑͗̑͌m̡͈̳̥̰͈̳̿ͧm͔͙̏̐ͫ͢3ͩ́͏̮̭͎ ̵͓̖̻̹͙̮͆̐͐ͅw̎̋́ͮ҉̟̳h̴̤̜̙̫ͥ̈ȉ̠͖̖̪̠͍͕̏̍̕t̛͔̦̝̂eͦ́̐͏͙̬̖̘ b͓̳͕͈̪͇͙̩̅̋ͪͨ͟lͩ͂҉̯̮o͙̘͓͇̱̖̍ͪ̈͝ò͈̝͈̪ͭ̔̓͘ḍ͚ ̢̪̰̠͉̻ͨc͎̲̬ͫͬé̢̫͙ͯ̉l͇̞͉͚̃̓͠l͓̞͚̻͈̯̣̆ͩ̓s̛̯̲͕̅͛́ͧ ̲̰̫̠̖̍̕(͍̻̃͌̈̄͞i̷̱̟͚̞͙̦̊ͫ̅m̶̯͖͍̎ͦͭ͊

The incoming information was so complex and fast that even Connor’s advanced processors struggled to keep up. His entire vision was getting blocked as new data kept popping up on his inner display. He couldn’t suppress a flinch and reached to pinch the bridge of his nose as the high process build up manifested as a harsh headache like pain right behind his eyes.

“Everything alright Con?” Ben asked worriedly as he was quick to catch on to the other’s clear discomfort.

“Y-Yeah. I mean yes, sir.” Connor managed to stammer without looking at his superior, keeping his eyes pinched shut. But the overwhelming flux of information kept piling up as new data points continued getting registered. Since he had no excess process power to evaluate all incoming information the pressure continued to grow worse. He tried to gain access to reset his sensors back to standard, but he was locked out of the program for some reason. Heat was starting to radiate inside his head as his main frame was overtaxed. Damn it, this was his first case back in the field! He shouldn’t malfunction like this. He was supposed to be better than this! He couldn’t let everyone down again.

“Yeah, and I might believe that if it didn’t look like your head was aching and your face wasn’t so blue and flushed. What’s happening kid, talk to me.” Ben insisted, not able to keep the worry out of his voice.

Connor managed to look up and schooled his expression into a somewhat passive expression, only the slight tightness around his eyes indicated his continued pain. “I’m sorry sir. It’s just that.. My oral analysis sensors might be in need of calibration. It’s currently testing for 348 separate analysis elements in a single sample and I can’t seem to correct the error myself. It’s taking up a large part of my processers’ power, causing something akin to what humans would call a headache and a temporary visual obstruction of data, until I can clear them up manually. My flush is caused by an excess of thirium having to be rerouted to my cranial components to keep up with the high processing demand.” He explained quickly. “I’ve been able to confirm our first victim, Collin Hart, was indeed under the influence of both alcohol as well as a high concentration of Red Ice. But I’m afraid my sensors are demanding too much of my processers to complete any other functions, meaning I can’t continue testing the other victims at the moment. I’m extremely sorry that this will cause a delay to our investigation and complicate your work sir, but I promise I’ll try and make up for my insufficiency.” Connor added, sounding truly regretful and for not being able to preform one of his main functions in the field, letting his team and coworkers down.

Ben stepped forward to place a comforting hand on Connor’s shoulder. It was clear to see the kid already mentally beating himself up for not preforming as well as he thought he should. “Hey, relax kid, it’s your first day back. Just take it easy, ok? Your health is more important than the case. Do you need to top of your thirium reserves? I think I have a spare pack in my bag.” Ben asked, already moving toward his bag located at the front door.

“No, I’m alright for now. Thank you for your concern though.” Conner answered gratefully, his eyes softening a bit at his senior’s support. “I’ll start marking the evidence for your report for now then. Hopefully my diagnostic software will identify and correct the glitch so I can continue my forensic tests afterwards.”

“Alright, sounds good and let me know if you need a break. Seriously kid I don’t want you to overstrain yourself.” Ben agreed, delivering a good natured tap to Connor’s cheek and a soft smile before turning back to his pad in hand.

Upstairs, unknown to the duo, Reed was silently fuming. “Fucking hell, is Ben really putting that rust bucket’s wellbeing higher than solving a quadruple homicide?! Offering it fucking breaks and everything, it’s a bloody joke!” He’d followed the scene discreetly from his higher ground. Well, Ben was about to realize that having a malfunctioning piece of plastic is nothing but a hindrance and a nuisance! Reed reached for the remote in his pocket yet again. “Time to step it up a notch.”

[Full body sensor system // Pressure sensitivity 100% // WARNING current settings will require excess processor and power usage // Nonvital functions will be down prioritized // Risk of long term damage to model // WARNING // Extended use of current setting will require extensive recalibration of all sensors]

Ignoring all warnings Reed proceeded with the adjustment and activated the selected function. He looked down below, ready to enjoy the show.

Connor literally froze mid-step as his entire body tensed up. From one second to the next he felt as every single little sensory receiver in his whole body was amplified to an excruciating level. The feel and weight of his clothes alone felt like fire on his skin. His breath shuttered harshly once then twice, before his ventilation program shut off entirely as his systems started to automatically to shut down certain functions in order to uphold the strain it was taking to keep all his external sensors on such a high intensity. His thirium pump on the other hand started to beat thrice its normal rhythm to sustain his body’s sudden current demand. He reached involuntarily for his chest as his pump went haywire and immediately regretted it when the simple pressure of his own hand on his chest sent a wave of torment through his entire frame. His inner display filled with useless data of his pump rate and sensory input, like how many units of newtons was applied by his clothes, his hand even the hair on his head. It was so excruciating that Connor had completely disappeared into his own painfilled bubble, frozen in place as he was overcome with an agony that was impossible to imagine or describe.

Ben was quick to notice Connor’s odd behavior as he couldn’t help worrying the android was pushing himself too hard as he tended to do. Also, the incident from last week still haunted the senior officer and he couldn’t help the protectiveness that was always quick to come over him when it regarded the young detective. Even tough Connor was on his way to be one of the most acclaimed detectives in the DPD, excelling on all fronts in his career, the kid had a bad habit of neglecting his own needs and safety to solve a case or help his colleagues. Connor once admitted to him that he sometimes forgot he was no longer expected to accomplish his mission at the cost of his own safety since it’d been so deeply conditioned in his programming by Cyberlife to do just that. And because Connor was one of the most competent, professional and skilled officers on the force, it was easy to forget the kid was literally only a little over 1 year old, which also made him a bit naïve, vulnerable and very trusting in nature. While Hank was definitely the most protective of Connor, having basically adopted the kid as his own, Ben and most members of their precinct could not help but share the need to guard their newest member to the best of their ability. So as Ben saw Connor completely freeze up, hearing his sudden gasp, the senior immediately sensed something was very wrong. “Connor? Hey what’s the matter.” Ben asked worriedly, half running towards the frozen detective. As he got closer he could see the kid’s eyes shone with a look of catatonic and pained panic and his LED spun wildly in a deep red color, only confirming his fears. “Come on kid, look at me, what’s going on?” He asked again and reached out and took a firm hold of Connor’s left shoulder. “D-DON’T TOCH ME!!” Connor yelled out in a pained cry, flinching hard away from Ben’s touch as if he’d been burned. His recoil was so violent that he stumbled on his unsteady legs, then tripping over an overturned footrest before crashing to the floor, his right shoulder making contact first before landing on his back.

Connor let out a heart wrenching cry of anguish as the slightest touch and bump felt like a bone crushing pressure to his frame. His thirium pump worked like a jackhammer inside his chest and every beat felt like he was taking a hit from a mallet right to the sternum.

“CONNOR?!” Ben called out panicked and kneeled at his side, he made a move to reach for the kid but stopped himself, afraid to hurt him more.

The commotion of course didn’t go unnoticed by the other officers in the room. Pearson, Thomsen and Hank, especially Hank, came rushing from whatever part of the suite they’d been working to see what was happening.

“Holy shit! Connor?!” Hank called out in despair finding his son on the floor in distress.

“What happened?” Pearson asked horrified at having to witness her friend in torment yet again.

“I-I think his sensors are malfunctioning somehow.” Ben offered weakly. “He told me his oral forensic analysis sensors were malfunctioning. It must have spread and affected his entire sensory system.” He added, feeling useless for not being able to offer any further help or explanation.”

Connor let out a pained groan below them, his core temperature was starting to rise drastically since his ventilation system was no longer operating. Multiple warnings messages were starting to pop up on his display.

[WARNING // Stress level 87%^^ // Seek stress reducing measures immediately]

[WARNING // Core temperature 113°F^^ // Seek temperature reducing measures immediately]

[WARNING // External sensor system overloaded // Lower sensor sensitivity immediately // ERROR access to sensory system settings denied]

[WARNING // Thirium pump overloaded // Engage stabilized rhythm // ERROR thirium shortage in sensory system components – Thirium pump bpm increasing // WARNING…]

The warning and error codes kept going in an endless loop again and again.. Connor’s red LED blinked and reflected of the polished wooden floor beneath him as the pain radiated through every wire, line and component of his whole being. Unable to hold back any longer a clear saline solution started to drip steadily from Connor’s eyes, trailing down his temples, past his red LED and into his hair.

Hank reached out on pure reflex to wipe the tears from his face before Thomsen intervened, stopping his hand before it could make contact.

“No don’t touch him! It’ll only make it worse sir!”

“Hell, I can’t just sit here and do nothing!!” Hank protested in helpless frustration, but still pulled his hand back.

“I-I’t’s too m-much.. I-I can’t..” Connor stammered and gently turned his head to lock onto Hank’s eyes with a desperate look. “It h-hurts so bad D-Dad!” He cried, finding the only solace he could think of in the eyes of his father.

Hanks own eyes ran over with tears hearing his son’s desperate pained voice. Connor only called him Dad when he was feeling vulnerable, hurt or overwhelmed by the many challenges he still faced with his deviancy. He’d never called him Dad in public, only when they were alone and in total privacy. For him to call out to him like this spoke volumes of how much in pain he was going through and it fucking broke Hank’s heart.

“Shhh, Shh.. It’s alright son it’s alright, we’ll get you through this.” Hank promised fervently, wishing he could give his son any kind of physical comfort, but not daring to do so.

Pearson’s eyes were wet with tears as well, trying to hold in her own sobs at the heartbreaking scene before her. Ben and Thomsen’s eyes were misty as well, but they kept it together and tried to be strong for both Connor and Hank’s sake.

“Connor, is there any way you can you push yourself into stasis mode?” Ben asked.

“No I-I’ve tried, but..” A bitten off cry of pain interrupted. “But I c-can’t gain access t-to any of my.. M-Manual override programs!” Connor gasped the last word and arched off the floor with a pained cry as one of his minor internal thirium lines burst from the extensive pressure from his thirium pump.

From his sport above Reed was thoroughly enjoying the show, but figured it was time to make an appearance of his own. He descended the stairs quickly and made his way to the group around the fallen Tin Can.

“Nothing for it then! We’ll have to have it.. Err, I mean him, transported back to the station so John can take another look.” Reed announced drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

“And how the hell are we supposed to do that?” Hank barked angrily.

“Simple, I’ll carry him to the car, drive him back.” Reed offered like it was the obvious, planting both his hands in his side.

“But with his sensors malfunctioning like that it’ll be pure torture for him to be manhandled like that!!” Pearson argued.

“Well, I don’t see any other way, he can’t stay here either, he’s contaminating an active crime scene!” Reed countered.

“I think Reed is right.. It won’t be pleasant, but we can’t just leave him like this either.” Ben agreed sullenly, not happy about the prospect.

“Why don’t we just call John and have him come here instead?” Thomsen asked.

“Whatever this is isn’t an easy fix.. John will likely need to have full need of his lab at the DPD. It’ll be quicker to bring Connor back as fast as we can.” Ben said, being the most knowledgeable in the room of android technical aid.

“Ain’t no way I’m letting you touch him! I’ll carry him myself!” Hank growled, still not trusting Reed.

“Hank.. You know your back isn’t in the best shape anymore and.. This is going to hurt Connor.. A lot.. He’s likely going to trash and cry out.. I don’t think it’d be wise for you to do it. Pearson and I don’t have the strength and Thomsen broke two knuckles three days ago. Besides, Reed is by far the strongest among us.” Ben reasoned.

Hank was clearly struggling with the decision, but knew that Ben was right.

“Alright!!” Hank bellowed, hanging his head before raising it back up with a stone cold glare. “But I swear to God Reed.. If something happens to him..” Hank let the unfinished threat hang in the air.

“On scout’s honor I promise to be careful.” Reed said, raising his right hand above his heart. “Too bad I’ve never been a scout, though.” He thought amused to himself. This was perfect! This way he could stay close to the Tin Can and keep his fun going for as long as possible.

Reed kneeled at Connor’s side who’d now pinched his eyes shot and grinding his teeth so hard they’d have broken if he’d been human. Reed snapped his fingers besides the bucket’s head to gain its attention. Connor managed to open his eyes a fraction to look at Reed.

“Hey, I’m gonna pick you up and get you back to the office so John can fix you, alright?” Reed explained quickly, having to act somewhat civil since everybody was watching him. “It’s gonna hurt like a bitch, but try and keep cool so I don’t drop you, okay?”

Connor managed one tight nod to show he understood the instructions.

“Alright then, here goes.”

Reed swiftly took a hold of the Tin Can’s left arm and quickly hefted it across his shoulders in a classic fireman’s carry.

Despite trying his very hardest Connor couldn’t suppress the tormented screams that tore through him as the jostling deeply aggravated his over sensitized system. Reed moved quickly out through the front door to make his way down to his parked car. And if he, the minute he was out of eyesight from the others, might have accidently squeezed the worthless sack across his shoulders a little tighter than necessary causing pained cries of agony to echo throughout the whole stairwell. Well, no one would know anyway.

---

Most on duty officers at the DPD was sitting quietly at their desks, pretending to be working, but no one really were. The office was unusually silent, the only sound breaking through from time to time being the tormented screams of Connor echoing down all the way from the onsite technical aid facility upstairs. Many had witnessed as detective Reed had arrived, carrying the android across his shoulders, looking and to be in tremendous pain, upstairs to receive technically aid by John. No one knew what had happened, but the anguished screams of pain from their colleague, able to penetrate several stories, was proving to be too distracting and heartbreaking for most to be able to work through. Reed had yet to come back down, likely trying to assist John in his work. Captain Fowler was talking on the phone, pacing his small glass office and gesturing wildly as he was talking to lieutenant Anderson in an attempt to try and clear up what had happened to Connor on the case.

Finally, the screaming seemed to halt and a few minutes after both detective Reed and John excited the elevator. Reed looked just as casual as always, but John was clearly deeply affected by the whole ordeal he’d just worked through. Captain Fowler quickly ended his phone call to join the two on the floor.

“What the hell happened to him?!” Fowler demanded, his angry burst a façade to try and hide how worried he was about Connor.

John ran hand down his tired face. “Connor’s entire sensory systems was somehow locked on the highest settings possible to register. Due to his advanced prototype design it.. To speak plainly sir, a pinprick in that state would to Connor feel like being run through with a sword, a small push would feel like being hit by a truck at full speed. I finally managed to force him into emergency stasis mode like last time, but I needed to have detective Reed hold him down to keep him still for the procedure and just like last time it was almost impossible because I’m having trouble getting connected.. It.. I’ve never witnessed anything like it..”

“I quite enjoyed the show.” Reed thought, happy with how long he’d been able to keep the Tin Can debilitated this time. Surely people would start realizing that androids weren’t nothing more than a glorified equipment piece and would never replace humans in the field!

Just then the doors to the bullpen burst open as Anderson rushes through, closely followed by Ben, Pearson, Thomsen, Tina, Wilson, Miller and Collins. Collins, Miller, Wilson and Tina hadn’t been present for Connor’s malfunction, but they’d heard his cries as he’d been carried from the scene and had been filled in by the rest on the team on their way back.

“Where is he?! Where’s my son?!” Hank shouted, not caring he was being emotional and loud about it in public.

“He’s upstairs, resting, peacefully, at last.” John answered.

“Oh, thank fuck!” Hank sighed and covered his face with his hands and took some deep calming breaths before facing John again with his next question. “Is he going to be okay?”

“In time he should make a full recovery, but it’s going to be a long process before I can have his sensors recalibrated fully back to standard. His thirium pump also needs time to restabilize because of the massive strain it needed to uphold for so long. I’m afraid Connor has some tough weeks ahead of him, but I’ll do anything in my power to get him through it as well as I can.” John promised.

Hank nodded reluctantly, glad that Connor was going to ok, but sad that he was facing yet another painful recovery after just having gotten back on his feet.

“What caused him to malfunction this time?” Wilson asked.

John made a grimace. “I.. I’m still not sure.. I think whatever keeps blocking his receiver might have something to do with it. I’m fearing Connor’s last malfunction and the one he suffered today might be connected and not a passing virus as I initially thought, but I promise I’ll do anything I can to fix it!”

“Yeah, good luck with that moron, I’ll keep one step ahead of you!”

“We know you’ll do what you can John and don’t be shy to come to me if there’s anything you need to help Connor, equipment, facilities, extra manpower you name it. I’ll make sure to get it for you.” Captain Fowler offered in a serious voice.

“And if there’s anything any of us can do, please let us know. I’m sure we’d all be happy to help if need be.” Officer Wilson extended, gesturing to the rest of the office crowd, followed by a steady stream of eager agreements from across the room.

“What?! No, no, NO! Why are we wasting so many fucking resources on that trash can? you’re all supposed to see hos useless that fucking machine is!! What the hell is wrong with you people?!” Reed thought angrily.

Suddenly everyone’s attention was diverted as the elevator dinged its arrival to the ground floor. As the doors opened everyone was shocked to see Connor, barely standing and just so by the help of the wall and elevator bars. His hair was tousled, his jacket and tie were gone and his white dress shirt was undone down to his sternum. His face was deadly pale and his eyes were unfocused and blank. He stumbled out of the elevator almost falling but just managing to catch himself heavily on a file cabinet, his arms and legs shaking with the strain, his face pulling into a pained grimace from the impact and effort to keep himself up. Everyone had been staring completely dumbfounded at the scene before them, not able to fathom how Connor had managed to be up un his feet already, if you could call his zombie like bearing that. Finally, several people seemed to snap out of it as Connor made his next attempt at moving forward without any kind of support around him, clearly doomed to fail his endeavor. Lewis and Collins both rushed to the android’s aid as he fell to his knees, but luckily managed to catch him before the rest of him followed.

“Woah buddy! We got you.” Collins reassured as the pair gently tried to maneuver Connor into a sitting position on the floor.

John was quick to join them, as he shifted back into caretaker mode. And gently took a hold around Connor’s neck and head in a mixed attempt to ground and comfort the struggling detective.

“Connor! Con, look at me! You have to be still! Your systems and body aren’t stable enough for you to move around yet. Do you understand?” John called out, his thumbs moving in a comforting caress across soft cheekbones in his hands.

Connor’s eyes were gliding in and out of focus and his body was shaking with tension, but the still tried to fight his way back to his feet, as if he hadn’t heard a word John had said.

“I.. I need to.. F-Finish my In.. Investigation.. “ He managed to rasp out in a weak voice as he struggled against the holds on his body. “It’s m-my.. Duty to complete.. The case at.. At any c-cost!” Suddenly Connor’s entire body spasmed in a painful contraction causing the android to let out a bitten off cry of pain, eyes pinching and jaw locking tight.

“What the hell John, I thought you said he was in stasis resting. How is he even able to move right now?” Captain Fowler barked out, running his hand across his bald head.

“He shouldn’t be!” John was quick to answer, his eyes still roaming all over Connor’s face and body, trying to assess his condition. “But if I were to guess I believe it might be a back-up program installed by Cyberlife, designed to kick in and revert him to his most basic function, Completing any ongoing investigation at all costs, despite damage or injury to himself. It’s probably a installment made exclusively to his prototype. Even though Connor is a deviant now with free will he’s likely too weak right now to resist it.”

“Fucking hell, those bastards!” Fowler grumbled angrily.

“Connor?” Hank kneeled in front of his boy, placing his right hand softly on Connor’s cheek. “Hey son, it’s time for you to rest now. Don’t worry about the case, it’s under control. You just focus on getting better now, you hear me?”

At the sound of his father’s voice, it was as if Connor was able to break slightly through his forced programming and at least focus on Hank’s face. “I.. I don’t want t-to.. Dissapoint you..”

Hank’s heart broke a little more at those words. “Son, you could never disappoint me!” He said in a firm voice and shifted his hand too run through Connor’s thick brown locks of hair. “I promise you that.”

“Urggh! I think I might puke.” Reed thought as he witnessed the sappy sight. Unfortunately, he seemed to be the only one as the rest of the onlookers watched the scene with a look of adoration, many with wet eyes also.

Connor’s eyes then pinched shut again and he hissed sharply before reaching for his head.

John was quick to turn to the room. “Could someone please run to the breakroom and bring a pack of thirium?” A junior officer was quick to comply to the request and fetched a bag of lemon ginger flavored thirium. John accepted the bag before turning back to the android still in his arms. “Your processors have already been way overloaded Con and your thirium levels are alarmingly low. I need you to drink this whole bag, then we’re gonna carry you back upstairs and you’ll rest until I see your vitals improving, alright?”

Connor nodded and accepted the bag with a shaking hand. He downed the liquid quickly and allowed Lewis and Collins, who’d both been keeping him steady all the while, to help him back upstairs despite it still clearly hurt him to be moved too much, but held back voicing his discomfort. John and Hank of course followed right behind them.

Afterwards the small crowd slowly dispersed, once again trying to return to their work, but most thoughts still stayed with their friend and colleague, worried and sad to see him hurt once again.

Reed fought hard to contain his sneer, how was people still not seeing how useless that fucking android was? It was nothing more than a glorified computer and a nonfunctioning computer was just trash, therefor so was the Tin Can! As he sat back down at his own desk, he reached down to gentle caress the remote in his pocket. He’d just have to get more creative then.

#whump writing #whump fic #connorwhump #dbh fandom #dbh whump #connor dbh #hurt/comfort #painful #original character #Poor Connor #detroid become human #angst with fluff #angst with a happy ending #Connor deserves Happiness

21 notes · View notes

soaps-mohawk · 1 month

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 19: Daddy Issues

Summary: Your pack is back home, but things aren't quite as good as you try to make them seem. Some truths get revealed, while others remain in the dark.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,337 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, '09 Ghost's backstory, mentioned abuse/child abuse, still pretty heavy emotionally, language, finally some of the comfort after the hurt, plenty of fluff

A/N: This stupid fic making me cry again. I may have lied about this one not being quite as heavy as the others...it's still pretty heavy, but there are some sweet moments in there too. There is a bit of a time jump in the middle, it's roughly a week long or so. Not much, but it does cut ahead a bit just for the sake of plot and moving things along. Also yeah, I got it done earlier than expected.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

You’re warm. Sweat has begun to form in the creases of your body. You’re wrapped around something solid, something contributing to the intense warmth. The smell of leather and eucalyptus fills your nose as you nuzzle your face against soft fabric. It sends a shiver down your spine despite the heat, your eyes fluttering open. You’re staring at a blurry mass of black fabric, your brain beginning to catch up as you become more and more aware.

Leather. Eucalyptus. Something distinctly alpha.

Fuck.

You’re spooning Ghost.

He has to be asleep, otherwise he would never let you get so close to him. He would have shoved you off, pushed you back towards Johnny, who you’ve traded places with in the middle of the night. You must have gotten too hot sandwiched between the two betas and tried to escape somewhere cooler. That led to you spooning with Ghost, not that he’s much cooler than the betas.

You can get away before he wakes up, remove yourself from his personal space before he realizes and forces you away. Avoid the shame and embarrassment of his rejection, his anger at you for crossing that boundary, even just in your sleep. Despite the fact you know that boundary is there, despite the fact you did it unintentionally, you’re not sure you could handle such a rejection right now, even from him.

You slowly begin to withdraw your arm from around his middle, sliding it back towards your body. If you go slow enough, you should be able to untangle yourself from around him without waking him and avoid a confrontation.

A quiet gasp is pulled from your lips as his hand wraps around your wrist, keeping you from moving.

“Don’t.” He says quietly.

Your heart is thudding in your chest as he tugs your arm back around him, keeping you where you are. Your exhale is shaky as you slowly relax, pressing your face against his back again. You’re not sure what to do. You were expecting him to push you away, get up in disgust and leave because you got too close, you pushed past the barrier he had placed around himself when it came to you. A barrier that got let down only while you’re training, then it’s put right back up as soon as you’re finished. Now here you are, spooning him after sleeping in the same room, the same nest.

You wouldn’t have taken him for being a little spoon type.

Your eyes begin to droop again as you lay there, breathing in Ghost’s scent. It’s like a comforting blanket, lulling you into a sense of relaxation, of safety, something you haven’t felt in days. For the first time your mind is quiet, not panicking about what happened, or what could happen. You don’t have to worry about your pack now, because they’re here with you again.

You drift off to sleep again for a while, sleeping soundly in the cocoon of safety your pack has provided for you.

You wake a while later, sticky with sweat. Your back is pressed against Ghost’s, and there’s something draped across your face. You push it away, blinking your eyes open. Johnny has starfished across the nest on his back, his mouth open as he snores. He’s stolen your bear, one arm holding it against his chest, and the other arm had been what was draped across your face. Kyle is curled up on his other side, having moved from the middle to the far side of the nest. John is missing, making your brows furrow.

You push yourself up to sit, the air in the room almost like a sauna. You rub your eyes, trying to blink away the sleepiness. That might have been the best sleep you’ve gotten since your heat. It was likely the exhaustion taking its toll, paired with your brain finally being able to relax while surrounded by your pack.

You feel like you could lay down and sleep for another ten hours.

You’re warm, though, sweat causing your clothes to stick to your skin. The blankets have all been kicked to the end of the mattresses, likely ditched early on in the night. You wiggle out of your sweatpants, kicking them off the end of the mattress as well, leaving you in a baggy shirt that you think is Johnny’s.

You feel suddenly exposed sitting there, your eyes flicking around the room as a chill runs down your spine. John would have noticed if something was out of place, but he could have just brushed it off as you in his room. He had given you permission to be in his space while he was gone, if you needed to. One of them would have noticed if things were out of place in their rooms. Ghost would likely notice, since you haven’t been in his room at all.

You lay back down on your back, staring up at the vent on the ceiling. The cover is in place, and no matter how hard you look, you can’t see a camera hiding in the gaps. It doesn’t ease your worry any as you stare up at it, wishing you had your phone so you could at least try to look for one. Though, perhaps it was better you didn’t have your phone with you. You hadn’t been brave enough to pop it open and look for anything strange hidden inside, though you wouldn’t even know where to begin to look, or what to look for.

You should tell them. What if someone is watching you right now?

You flinch as John appears in the doorway suddenly, five water bottles tucked against his chest. Your skin is crawling from the thought of someone watching, someone listening in on such a private moment with you and your pack. You hadn’t even thought about it last night, the stress and your fear had taken over your mind. You push yourself back up to sit as John passes Ghost a water bottle, handing one to you as well. You unscrew the cap as John places the other bottles on his desk. Johnny and Kyle still asleep, unaware of the world.

Unaware of the danger.

A cold shiver slips down your spine as you gulp down the water. What if someone had entered the barracks last night? You weren’t in your room, and the door wasn’t locked. Anyone could have just walked in and put up cameras again easily.

One of the guys would have heard someone snooping around, right? You were so out of it you likely would have slept through one of them getting up. What if they were also so exhausted from their deployment they could have slept through someone breaching their space as well. Did Ghost lock the door last night? You can’t remember.

“Alright, sweetheart?”

Your head snaps up to where John is leaning against his desk. His brows are slightly furrowed as he stares at you, and you realize you’ve been projecting your scent. With them gone, you didn't have to worry as much. You could stink up a room without a care. It just meant more protection for you. Now that they’re back, though, you have to be more careful. You can’t just go panicking over nothing, not that you should have to panic while they’re here.

That’s their job, right? Protect the omega?

They can’t protect you if they don’t know there’s a threat in the first place.

“Yeah.” You say, gulping down more water to think up an excuse quickly. “Thought I might be dreaming for a moment, that you didn't really come back.”

John approaches you slowly, kneeling down on the end of the mattress with a quiet sigh. He has to be sore after their deployment. You can tell just by the way he’s holding his shoulders, by the stiffness in the way he moves. You can’t even begin to imagine the kinds of things they did, the kinds of things they went through over the last week.

John takes your hand, pressing it against his chest. He’s warm underneath the shirt, and you can feel the steady beating of his heart under your palm. “We’re real.” He says, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he holds it against his chest. “We’re really here.”

You stare at his hand where it covers yours. You’ve seen it before, many times. Scarred and rough with calluses. His knuckles are dry and just slightly bruised. Did he punch someone? Or maybe he hit it against something else.

His hand moves, snapping you out of your thoughts. You fight the urge to flinch as he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “You’re thinking too much.”

You swallow thickly. “Well, I didn’t have much to do this last week besides think.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “We’ll try to make life more interesting for you, then.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get these two muppets up for breakfast.”

He pushes himself back up to stand, staring down at Johnny and Kyle, still sleeping. You shift onto your hands and knees, crawling over to Johnny before swinging a leg over to straddle his stomach. You lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his face, his breath catching as he begins to wake up, sensing a disturbance. You stare down at him, watching his eyes flutter before they crack open. The haze of sleep leaves his blue eyes, clarity coming back to him quickly as his lips begin to lift in a grin as he stares up at you.

“Didnae expect tae wake up to such a sight.” He says, voice thick with sleep as his hands come to rest on your bare thighs. “A beautiful woman on top of me? I must’ve died and gone tae heaven in my sleep.”

“Even better,” You say, leaning down closer. “Because I’m real.”

“That ye are.” He says, slowly dragging his hands up your legs, pushing the shirt up as he goes.

Ghost pushes himself off the mattress, leaving the room so quickly he nearly knocks his shoulder against the doorframe. A frown pulls at your brows as you watch him go, slowly pushing yourself back up to sit on Johnny’s stomach. Guilt starts to well up in you as you stare at the empty doorway. You hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable.

“Don’t mind him, kitten.” Johnny says, pushing himself up to sit, sliding you backwards into his lap. “He’s still miffed he didn’t get a greetin’ yesterday.”

“Oh,” You say, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t even thought about greeting Ghost in that moment. You had been so desperate for your alpha, and then swept up by the betas, it hadn’t even crossed your mind to acknowledge Ghost. “I didn’t-”

“It’s not yer fault.” Johnny says, wrapping his arms around you. “He hasnae been the most...open with ye. It’s his own damn fault for it.”

“Oh, well, I’ll be sure to give him a big hug when he comes back in.” You say.

“Please do.” Kyle says, rubbing his eyes where he’s laying next to you. “I’ll pay to see his reaction.”

All three of you burst out laughing, Johnny pressing his forehead against yours. “Missed ye, kitten.”

“Not as much as I missed you.” You say, pouting.

Johnny chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. His hands slide to your hips as he presses another soft kiss to your lips, and then another.

“Let me get in on some of that.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to sit. He grips your chin in his hand, turning your face to his before pressing his lips to yours.

His kiss takes your breath away, deeper and more passionate than Johnny’s had been. You hum against his lips as Johnny’s grip on your waist tightens.

“Christ almighty.” Johnny breathes, staring at you and Kyle as you kiss.

“Alright, you three.” John says as the air in the room starts to turn musky with arousal. “Let’s feed our omega first before we get too carried away.”

Kyle pulls away from you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Can we...eat in here again?” You ask, wrapping an arm around Johnny’s shoulders as you turn slightly to look up at John. You had almost forgotten about his presence, caught up in the attention from your betas. The thought of him watching the three of you has a different kind of thrill racing down your spine.

“Of course.” John says, bending down to kiss you.

Both Johnny and Kyle groan at the sight of their pack alpha kissing you, Johnny’s cock twitching in his boxers beneath you. You press a kiss to Johnny’s cheek after John pulls away from you before pushing yourself up to stand. You stretch your arms over your head, the shirt riding up a bit, giving both Kyle and Johnny a good view of your legs. The musky scent of arousal intensifies in the air as they stare at you, Johnny licking his lips hungrily.

“Alright, get out of here you cheeky little minx, otherwise they’ll never get out of bed.” John says, gently guiding you from the room.

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you leave John’s room, stepping out into the hallway. It’s much cooler outside of the room, goosebumps forming on your legs. You have half a mind to go back to your own room, but you find yourself unable to even approach the door. Memories of the fear and your panic come flooding back, the thought that someone might have snuck inside, someone might be waiting for you in there snapping to the front of your mind. It’s a ridiculous thought. Someone would have noticed if there was an intruder, if there was someone who shouldn’t be inside creeping around.

Your gaze flickers from your door as Ghost makes his way down the hallway, his clothes changed from what he’d been wearing to sleep in. You bite your lip as you stare at him, meeting his gaze. Perhaps it's the fear driving you forward, or maybe you’ve gone slightly crazy in their absence, but you find yourself approaching him, making him stop in his tracks.

He eyes you as you approach, your steps quick as you try to avoid chickening out. Your mind is repeating Johnny’s words over and over in your head, an explanation for Ghost’s behavior yesterday, and obvious annoyance at you and Johnny this morning. You wonder if he’ll take it as a threat as you get closer to him, if he might snap and defend himself. He’s completely still, not even his chest moving. He’s watching you like a predator watches its prey, waiting for your next move.

It’s like hugging a tree as you wrap your arms around his waist. He’s stiffer than a board as you hug him, resting your face on his chest. Leather and eucalyptus and musk all float around you as you press close to him, his scent enveloping you in a hug, even if his body doesn’t follow suit.

“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest.

“Hugging you.” You say, tightening your hold around him. You’ve been this close to him before in your training, but this feels different. “I’m sorry for not greeting you on the tarmac. I wasn’t really thinking clearly at that point.”

He lets out a quiet sigh, something you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close to him. You can imagine it’s a sigh of exasperation at Johnny for spilling about his feelings. “It’s fine.” He says, awkwardly patting your back. “Don’t know why you would have wanted to.”

“Well, you are part of the pack.” You say. “That should be enough reason.”

You nuzzle your face against his chest, his scent going straight to the back of your brain. Your omega wants to roll in it, cover herself in it until it’s all you can smell. The intensity of his scent has something in your hindbrain purring, the sound rumbling through your chest.

Ghost puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back from him. You blink up at him blearily as your mind begins to clear a bit with the distance. “At least put some pants on before you completely lose it.” He grumbles.

A small smile tugs at your lips before it falls at the thought of having to go into your room. You turn to face the door, your vision almost tunneling as you stare at it. You don’t want to open it. You don’t want to go in there.

“Ghost?” You say quietly before he can walk away.

He turns to look at you, his eyes squinting just slightly as he frowns. “What?”

“Will you...will you open my door for me?” You shift your weight, knowing he’s going to want a reason, an explanation for your behavior.

He turns fully to face you, shoulders squared as he slowly approaches, suddenly on the defensive. “What is it?”

You shake your head. “Just a feeling.”

He steps between you and the door, wrapping his fingers around the handle before he swings it open, scanning the inside. His shoulders relax just slightly and you let out a breath of air. There’s no one inside. No one’s waiting for you. No one broke in last night.

He takes a step back before turning to you. “Nothing.”

You let out a sigh of relief, staring into the space that was once your nest, your safe place. You can feel Ghost’s eyes on you, waiting for an explanation for your behavior. You can’t tell him the truth, despite how easy it would be. You could confess right now, admit to what happened, what you did, the mistake you made. You could drop to your knees right now, beg for forgiveness for what you did.

“It was hard...while everyone was gone.” You say. It’s not a lie. Not entirely. “Made me uneasy, being alone here. Kept thinking I was hearing things.”

He doesn’t believe you. You can see it in his eyes. He knows your lying, he knows you’re withholding the truth from him. You aren’t, you just aren’t giving him the whole truth. You had felt lonely, you had been on edge even before General Shepherd arrived and your room was bugged. Being alone was hard. Harder than you thought it would be. It would have taken its toll on you, even without the stress of your space being invaded multiple times.

You should have told someone. You should have called Dr. Keller right away. You should have never opened the door in the first place.

“Thank you.” You say, slipping past him and entering your room.

He stands there for a few breaths, watching you warily as you open your closet, looking for something to wear. You ignore him, acting like he’s not there, but you can’t hide the squaring of your shoulders, the stiffness of your movements. You’re not sure you could resist if he pressed, if he tried to force you to tell him. You’d spill immediately, even without him using his alpha against you.

The thought has another chill racing down your spine.

Your omega is on edge as you change with the door open, not caring as the guys move around, getting dressed to head out to grab breakfast for everyone. You hate how inconvenient it must be, but you still don’t think you could handle being in the mess. Not yet. Not so soon. You’ll have to eventually, otherwise they’ll think something is up, happened, and then they’ll start questioning.

You couldn’t handle an interrogation. Especially not their disappointed and angry faces when you confess to what you did, the mistakes you made, how you allowed someone to walk in so easily. How you left so easily with a stranger. They’d never trust you again.

They won’t trust you if you keep things from them either.

They have to know. They have to know General Shepherd came to base and talked to you. They have to know about you meeting their superior while they were away. A high ranking General couldn’t just be on base without someone knowing, and why would he hide it? He had come to check in on your progress and how you were settling in with your pack. He would have included your pack in that questioning as well, right? Besides, there has to be cameras everywhere on base. Someone would have seen you and let them know.

There’s no way they don’t know about it.

You stand in the doorway of your bathroom, staring at the cabinet where the broken cameras and recording devices are hidden. They’re broken, you ensured that. They’re hidden away, buried under enough stuff no one could find them unless they were purposefully looking for something.

You let out a breath, trying to relax as you finish your morning routine. It’s over. There’s nothing that can be done now. All you can do is try to move on, try to mend the fraying bonds with your pack, heal the sense of fear and unease surrounding your safe space.

Maybe Dr. Keller could help. You could admit everything to her, everything that happened while she was supposed to be watching you. If you had just gone to her office that afternoon, perhaps things would have been different. She would have known, but that wouldn’t have stopped the cameras from being put up. It would have just made it easier for them. Maybe they might have finished the job properly, and you wouldn’t have even known. Even if you had called Dr. Keller, what kind of argument could she have made against a Commanding Officer?

If you told Dr. Keller now, she’d tell your pack. She’s promised to keep everything between you confidential, but would something like this be an exception? Would she tell your pack anyway because she thinks it’s the best course of action to help you?

You want to cry. Tears are welling in your eyes as you stare in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself. You look tired, strung out, sickly almost. Are you not, though? Is that not how you feel? You know omegas can get sick from stress sometimes, if it gets to be too much. You don’t want to get sick. You don’t want to be more of a burden than you’re already being. They have to be so tired after their assignment, and here you are making things harder for them.

“You alright, love?”

You jump, letting out a shriek as you whip around to face the door of your room. Your heart is racing as you slap a hand over your mouth, staring wide-eyed at an equally surprised Kyle. You let out a breath, slowly lowering your trembling hand as you try to calm yourself. It’s just Kyle sneaking up on you. Not a stranger.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He says, brows pinching in a frown.

“‘S okay.” You murmur, turning off the light before leaving the bathroom. “Was lost in thought.”

“The others left to grab food.” Kyle says. “They’ll be back shortly.”

You nod, trying hard not to make your trembling too visible, or give any hint at your discomfort. “Okay.”

You stare at him as he leans against the doorframe. He hasn’t entered your room. He’s still standing in the doorway. The thought has a lump forming in your throat. Your bonds have frayed so much he doesn’t even feel comfortable entering your space anymore. There’s a wall up again, and you’re only forcing it higher and higher.

“Come on.” He says, holding his hand out to you. “Let’s go to the rec room.”

You take his offered hand, letting him pull you from your room. The door clicks closed behind you as you let him lead you down the hallway and away from the place that’s become fuel for your nightmares.

Kyle sits down on the couch, pulling you down on his lap. You wrap your arm around his neck as he wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth and scent.

“I’m sorry for startling you.” He says softly, bringing your other hand to his lips so he can press a kiss to your wrist.

“It’s not your fault.” You say, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Been on edge since everyone left.”

“I bet.” Kyle leans his cheek against the top of your head. “We’re here now. We’re gonna fix that.”

“What happens when you have to leave again?” You ask.

“You won’t be alone again, that’s for sure.” A different voice says.

You nearly jump out of Kyle’s lap as John appears in the doorway of the rec room, Johnny and Ghost right behind him. Kyle’s arms are the only thing keeping you steady as your heart nearly beats out of your chest. You’re not sure how much more you can take, intentionally or unintentionally.

“I spoke with Kate this morning.” John says as he sets the food he’s carrying on the coffee table. “We’re going to do everything in our power to avoid having you left alone again. At least one of us will be staying behind with you from now on.”

Your brows pinch a little. Is that why he had been absent from the nest earlier? You’re not quite sure what to feel. On one hand you’re relieved at the thought of not having to be alone again, but on the other hand, you don’t want to disrupt their lives, their jobs. You wonder just how hard he had to fight to even get Kate to agree to something like this.

You also feel a bit afraid that they know, they figured out what had happened and that’s the reason they don’t trust to leave you alone again. You’ll make another stupid mistake or another risky decision that might cause you actual harm next time.

Kyle eases you off his lap and onto the couch beside him. Johnny sits on your other side, squishing you between them as a tray is passed into your hands. You don’t feel very hungry as you stare down at the food, but you know after a meager dinner last night, you need to eat. You won’t be doing you or your pack any favors by being hungry.

It’s quiet in the rec room as you eat. It’s almost eerie how silent it is, aside from the occasional scrape of silverware on the trays. You begin to float back into the time when they were gone, the haunting silence that had settled over the barracks in their absence. Everything had seemed so still, not peaceful, but more like the very walls were holding their breath.

Perhaps it was in anticipation for what was to come. Perhaps somehow the very walls knew they would be beached, the safety they once promised would be upended.

Or maybe you’ve just gone crazy.

You shift forward on the couch, careful not to tip your tray over as you grab the remote from the coffee table, turning the TV on.

“Finally! I couldnae handle the silence much longer.” Johnny exclaims, letting out a relieved sigh.

The corners of your lips pull up in a smile as you pass the remote off to him, letting him search for something bearable to watch on early morning TV. You’re glad at least you weren’t alone in your distaste for the silence. You curl up closer to Gaz, reminding yourself that it’s not a dream, that they really are here. They really did come back.

Now you just have to move on and put the nightmare of what happened behind you.

As the days pass, things begin to return to normal. The guys start their normal routine of training and running drills almost immediately. To avoid being stuck in the barracks alone, you ask to go with them, blaming it on the distance and your need to be clingy still. At first you were afraid someone would take advantage of the barracks being empty again, but every search has come up empty handed. No more cameras, no more recording devices.

Whoever it was who planted them must have given up, or perhaps the risk of doing it with the entire pack back on base was too high.

Despite this fact, you spend the least amount of time in your room as possible. Even when you can’t go to watch them train or run drills, you spend your time in John’s room, or in the rec room. At night you rotate between John, Kyle, and Johnny, opting to sleep with them over spending a night alone in your room.

As you discussed, you begin seeing Dr. Keller twice a week. You’re not quite sure what she told John to convince him it was necessary, but whatever it was, it hadn’t given away any of your secrets. It probably hadn’t taken much to convince him to say yes, given your current state and his worry about you.

You know he’s worried. You can see it when he looks at you, like you might snap if he stares too hard. You’ve seen the way his hands twitch when Johnny holds you too tightly or gets too rough in his affection, like he’s worried you might shatter.

It’s reassuring to see the distance has not just affected you. Johnny holds you tighter than he used to, Kyle stands closer to you like he’s trying to fuse you both into one. Even Ghost has started hovering closer, using his hands to steer you and guide you when you’re around others that aren’t part of your pack.

You’ve started eating in the mess again, knowing you can only avoid it for so long before they’ll start getting suspicious and asking questions. You still feel paranoid, being around the other soldiers on base. You can’t help but be suspicious that it was one of them that planted the cameras, that it was one of them that tried to get into your room that night. Who would willingly breach such sacred ground and invade an omega’s space like that, you couldn’t even begin to guess.

Sure, some of them still stare at you, but most of them now ignore your existence. You’re no longer a spectacle, not after a few weeks on base, not that you’re a claimed omega now.

That won’t stop some alphas.

Going up against your pack, though? That would take one hell of a cocksure alpha.

Just like the one that invaded your safe space.

It had to have been an alpha. Sure, that beta soldier had entered the barracks, but to go so far as to put up cameras and try to come back and get into your room? That takes a special kind of audacity, something only an alpha could possess.

So life has gone back to normal, or at least as normal as it can be after what happened.

The return to normal hasn’t all been good, though. Your nightmares have returned, coming on quickly as soon as you began to settle into routine again. The real nightmare has passed, so now your mind has to plague itself with nightmares that have already happened. Things that can’t even hurt you anymore.

You start avoiding sleep again, despite your work with Dr. Keller, too afraid to risk having a nightmare in front of one of them again. The last thing you need is to have to spill about your nightmare. You might not be able to stop and wind up spilling about what happened while they were gone too.

Unfortunately, things don’t work that way. They never work that way for you.

Someone is screaming. Your body feels like it’s being constricted by a snake, crushing and painful as you’re clutched desperately against your mother’s chest. She’s the one that’s screaming, the sound hurting your ears. Your face is pressed against her shoulder, into the softness of her sweater. It’s the pink one, the one she made. Her favorite.

There’s knocking coming from somewhere, a door handle jiggling. It’s locked, but you can hear someone trying to get in, multiple people based on the voices from the other side. You don’t know who it is. You don’t recognize any of them. You can’t even make out what it is their saying, if they’re saying anything at all. The voices sound more like the unintelligible roar of monsters, the ones you used to be afraid of as a child.

Everything is muted by the blood pulsing in your ears, drowning out everything but the jiggling of the door handle. Someone’s trying to break in. Someone is breaking in. You can make out the thuds against the door, the desperate attempts to get inside, to get to you.

The arms around you tighten, pressing your face harder into the soft yarn of the sweater. You inhale the familiar scent of brown sugar and vanilla, the scent surrounding you and enveloping you in a sense of safety. Nothing can get you. Nothing can hurt you.

That’s not true, though. You know it’s not.

There’s a bang as the door is finally forced open, the screaming getting louder as footsteps enter the room. You’re shaking, trembling in your mother’s arms as she clings to you desperately, just like you used to cling to her when you thought there was a monster under your bed.

The monsters were real, you realize as you desperately cling to your mother, just as tightly as she’s clinging to you.

Hands grab at you, claws digging into your skin, tentacles wrapping around your body, trying to pull you from your mother’s grip. You can hear her pleading, begging, screaming at them not to take you, not to separate you. You’ll never see her again if they manage to pull you from her. They’ll take you away, hide you away, keep you from the warm comfort of her embrace.

You let out a scream of your own as you’re yanked from her grasp, your arms reaching for her as the monsters pull you from the source of your safety and comfort. The last thing you see is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door slams in your face.

A scream tears from your lips as you’re pulled from sleep suddenly. You’re falling, hitting the tile floor with a thud. Your shoulder cracks against the unforgiving floor, making you yelp. The blanket has tangled around your legs, rendering you immobile from the waist down.

The frantic pounding of boots on the floor meets your ears, seconds before the four members of your pack are sprinting into the rec room. Their faces look just as frantic as their steps had been, concern laced with fear laced with worry. You hadn’t even realized they’d returned already. They had been at their afternoon drills while you stayed in the rec room watching TV, slowly succumbing to the exhaustion that’s been plaguing you.

“What is it? What happened?” Kyle asks, moving to step forward but John beats him to it.

“Fell off the couch.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit, wincing at the pain in your shoulder. There’s tears sliding down your cheeks despite you fighting the remnants of your terror and pain from the nightmare.

“I think there’s more to it than that.” John says, kneeling down in front of you.

You want to confess everything. How you haven’t been sleeping well for weeks now since your heat, how you keep having horrible nightmares about your past, what happened while they were away, how the nightmares have returned. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at John, the tears sliding down your cheeks as you give up trying to control them. Guilt plagues you as you stare at the worried face of your alpha. He just wants to help you, he just wants to take care of you, but he can’t if you’re keeping things from him, if you’re lying to his face.

“I had a nightmare.” You say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You clutch your arm to your chest, trying not to move your shoulder too much.

John lets out a quiet sigh, his fingers lifting to press against your shoulder, feeling around the joint. You wince as he hits a tender spot, the pain sharp, but not horrible. You’ve certainly felt worse things.

He turns to the others behind him, all of them staring at you with equally worried looks on their faces. “Get me an ice pack.” He says before turning back to you.

He lifts you off the floor, placing you back on the couch before untangling the blanket from around your legs. Johnny grabs an ice pack as Kyle moves to sit next to you on the couch, draping his arm across the back, projecting his scent to try and help you relax. John sits on the edge of the coffee table, staring at you. Despite the worry still present on his face, his eyes are sharp. You can’t help but feel like you’re suddenly in an interrogation. They’ve done this before, probably many times, though likely not as gently as they are now. You’re terrified still at the way they shift so easily into the mindset of a soldier. You can’t even imagine what it would be like if they were serious in their interrogation of you.

“How long have you been having nightmares?” John asks as Johnny takes a seat on the other side of you, passing you the ice pack.

You press it against your shoulder, trying to keep your thoughts straight. You have to try not to spill anything, try not to confess to all of your sins, all of your stupid mistakes now. Your gaze drops to your lap, avoiding the looks of the two alphas staring at you. Ghost has moved to stand behind John, his arms crossed as he watches the exchange. You can feel the pressure of their gaze, the sharpness of it digging into your skin like knives.

“A couple weeks.” You admit, unable to even think of a lie. You don’t want to lie now, not with them staring at you so intensely. They’d know. They’d be able to tell before the words even left your mouth. “Since my heat ended.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding sleeping?” John asks.

You wince at his question. Of course he noticed. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been trained to notice weaknesses in others, gauge the capabilities of his men. Of course he’d notice you’re more tired than usual, not sleeping quite as much. He probably even knew all the times you woke up in the night when you slept next to him.

You nod, still staring at your lap, too afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He breathes, almost sounding upset.

You’ve made a mistake in keeping this a secret. You regret it as soon as you hear the emotion in his voice. He thinks you don’t trust them, he thinks you don’t trust your alpha. You need to tell him. You need to tell him everything, but the fear keeps you paralyzed. How much more upset will he be when you confess that you kept such a major event from him, from all of them?

A quiet sob leaves your lips as you sit there, terrified of the reprimanding you’re sure to get. The shame burns hot in you, the reminder that you’ve disappointed them. You’ve let them down and now they won’t even trust you to tell them anything.

“We’re not mad at you, sweetheart.” Gaz says, shifting his arm so it’s wrapped around your shoulders, his thumb brushing the hand that’s holding the ice pack to your shoulder. Johnny shifts just slightly closer to you, both of the betas projecting their scent around you, trying to cocoon you in their comforting presence.

“I just want to know why you felt it necessary to hide something like that from us.” John says, his voice softer than it had been before.

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You find the words spilling out before you can stop them. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the fear or your brain finally getting tired of holding everything in. This is your moment to let out a little steam, to finally release some of the pressure that’s been building. “My nightmares are nothing compared to the ones you all probably have and it’s stupid and I shouldn’t even be having them, it’s been years since the last time I dreamed like this, and I don’t even know why they’ve come back now.”

“No nightmares are stupid.” Ghost says, stepping up closer to the coffee table.

“We’re here to help you.” John says, leaning his elbows on his knees. “We can’t do that if you don’t tell us what’s going on.”

Guilt burns through you at his words. He’s right. You should be honest with them, tell them everything. They can’t help you, they can’t keep you safe even from the things that plague your mind if they don’t know about them.

“What are the dreams about?” John asks, blue eyes boring holes into you.

You feel small under his gaze, like you're a child again, facing down your father after doing something wrong, after making a mistake. You have made a mistake, though. You’re facing the consequences of your mistake right now.

“The day I left for the institute.” You say quietly, voice hardly more than a whisper but you know they heard you in the silence of the barracks. It feels threatening, like the walls are silently vowing to tell the truth if you don’t.

Your pack shifts a bit at your words, sharing looks amongst themselves. They have to know what it’s like, or at least heard stories about the trauma of being pulled from your pack to be taken to a strange place, surrounded by others just like you.

“What happened that day?” Ghost asks, staring down at you.

You can feel his gaze piercing into you, screaming the silent threat that you’re going to tell them, no matter how long they have to sit here and wait. You don’t have a choice anymore. You have to tell them.

You’re warm. The ice pack pressed against your forehead does little to soothe the burning under your skin. You’re thirsty, the two empty plastic bottles on your nightstand were not enough to ease the dryness in your mouth.

Hands shift the ice pack, pressing it against your cheek. Your mother is there, seated next to your bed diligently. She’s crying, tears sliding down her cheeks, quiet sniffles breaking the silence in the house.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, bringing your hand to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” She apologizes, as if it’s her fault, as if she brought this onto you.

She gasps quietly as the door opens, her back stiffening as your father enters. His face is stern, mouth almost twisted with disgust as he stares at you. It feels wrong, having him invade your space. If you’d had the energy, perhaps you would have been brave enough to protest his presence.

“Come on.” His voice is gruff, worn down from years of smoking and yelling. “Get up.”

“No, please-” Your mother attempts to reason with him, but he won’t have it.

“Shut up and sit down.” He snaps at her, and she has no choice but to sit back and be silent. His voice has something tingling in the back of your neck, almost like a warning. There’s nothing you can do, though. You’re far too weak.

He moves to the side of your bed, grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the comfort of your blankets. The ice pack falls from your head, your skin prickling with warmth almost like it hadn’t been there in the first place. Your brain is sluggish as you try to comprehend what’s happening, your legs giving out as you’re forced upright. You can’t get your body to work, you can’t even force yourself to behave. You want to crawl back under your blankets and lay there for the rest of eternity.

You whine as you’re dragged from your room, knees knocking on the floor as you attempt to get your feet under you to ease the pain in your shoulder. Your father drags you into the living room, two people you don’t recognize standing next to the front door.

“Please, please don’t do this!” Your mother pleads with him, right on his heels as he drops you in a heap in front of them. He catches her before she can rush forward to you. How you wish you could have her arms around you again, holding you and comforting you in your confusion.

“Enough.” Your father snaps at her, looking down at you with disgust. “She’s no daughter of mine.”

You blink up at him, the words seering through the haze, registering in your foggy mind. Tears gather in your eyes as you stare up at your parents, your siblings watching tensely from the living room as the scene unfolds before them.

“No, no!” You cry as hands close around your arms, lifting you from the floor. “Mama!” You scream, trying to fight them as you’re pulled from your home, your safe space, your family, your pack.

Your mother is yelling, fighting against your father’s hold around her, but it’s useless. He’s stronger. He wants this, so no one is going to stop him. She’ll pay later for her actions, her disagreement with him. You won’t be here to see it, though. You’re leaving and you won’t be coming back.

The last thing you see as the cool air outside washes over your feverish skin is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door closes, locking you out forever.

You’re dragged into the back of a van parked in the driveway. Two men in uniform climb in behind you before the doors are slammed shut. You curl up in the corner, sobbing uncontrollably. You want your mom, you want to be back in the safety of her arms, the warmth and comforting softness that only she can provide.

One of the men approaches you, a needle in his hand. You whimper in fear, pressing further back into the corner as he gets closer to you. He forces you down onto your stomach, the pain brief as he injects you with the sedative before he moves back to take his seat. You curl up in a ball, quietly sobbing as the drugs begin to work, your vision going hazy before you’re forced into unconsciousness.

“I woke up hours later at the institute.” You say, wiping at the tears streaming down your cheeks, but it does little against the cascade of tears falling from your eyes. “Never saw or spoke to my family again. They didn’t even try to reach me, and I know my dad was the reason why. He hated me as soon as I presented.”

“Fucking hell.” Ghost breathes, hands curled into fists at his sides. You can smell the intensity of his scent above everything, the burning ozone of anger rolling off of him. It makes you wince, even though you know it’s not directed at you.

“That’s why he wanted to send you so quickly.” Kyle says, his arm tightening around you.

“How did he get you into FIOT so soon after your presentation?” John asks.

You shrug your good shoulder. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know he’d be sending me, much less so soon until it was happening.”

“Christ,” Johnny breathes, gently taking your hand in his. “No wonder yer havin’ nightmares, kitten.”

“I haven’t had this nightmare since I arrived at the institute. They started there, lasted a few weeks while I adjusted to being there.” You sniffle. “Haven’t had them since, until now. Dr. Keller says it’s because I finally feel safe enough to process the trauma of it happening.”

John sits up a little straighter. “Is that why she suggested seeing you multiple times a week?”

You nod. “We’re working on it. I asked her not to tell you, because I did plan on telling you eventually.”

“I’m glad you told someone, at least,” He says. “And I’m glad you finally told us too. We might not be able to stop the nightmares, but at least now we can help support you in whatever way you need.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You say, squeezing Johnny’s hand slightly. He was the only one that knew you were having nightmares, but you hadn’t even confessed to him what was going on out of fear he’d tell the others.

“It’s alright, sweet girl.” John says, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad it finally came out and now we can help you.” He wipes the tears from your cheeks, his thumb brushing your skin gently.

The moment is broken as your stomach growls impatiently. It’s past your normal dinner time, your confession having kept you longer than you thought it would. You hadn’t gotten in your afternoon snack either, your body having chosen to nap instead.

A small smile tugs at John’s lips. “Hungry, love?”

You nod. “Yeah. Didn’t get my snack.”

“We’ll go get some food and bring it here, how does that sound?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

He pushes himself up to stand, his knees cracking as he does. You fight the urge to say something, squeezing Johnny’s hand tightly.

“I’ll stay.” Ghost says, still looking at you.

John looks down at you and you meet Ghost’s gaze for a moment before nodding. John presses another kiss to your head, Johnny and Kyle pressing kisses to your cheeks before they get up, leaving the rec room to get dinner for everyone.

Ghost moves from his spot on the other side of the coffee table, sinking down at the end of the couch. You fight the urge to stare at him in surprise. You’re not sure you’ve seen him sit anywhere but in the chair the entire time you’ve been here.

It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments, aside from the occasional sniffle from you. You wipe the remaining tears from your face, removing the melted ice pack from your shoulder, tossing it on the coffee table. This feels very familiar to you, this position. You’ve been here before, back when you punched the asshole alpha who insulted you.

“My dad was a real asshole.”

You turn your head slightly in surprise when Ghost break’s the silence suddenly. He’s not looking at you, his gaze distant, far away. You know that look well. You’ve seen it on him before, and also on a few omegas at the institute. You’re sure it’s graced your face as well many times.

“He was a trad alpha, real piece of shit who couldn’t control his anger. Took it out on all of us. My mum, my brother, me.” He scoffs. “Mum took the brunt of it, but Tommy and I faced our fair share of it too. He used to bring dangerous animals home and taunted us with them. Made me kiss a snake once. He did all kinds of horrible things to us.” His voice softens a bit in a way you’ve never heard before. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable, not even when he told you about his own nightmares. “I’ve never wanted an omega, because of the things my dad did to my mum. I never wanted a pack either, but...maybe something deep down in me did because I said yes to this whole experiment.”

The silence hangs heavy between you for a moment. You’re not sure what to say, or if you can even manage to say anything in response to what he’s just told you. You had no idea what his life was like growing up, except that he was also a purebred.

“I was always too afraid the cycle would continue, that I’d turn out to be another piece of shit, just like my dad.” He says.

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit.” You say, your voice cracking a bit.

He huffs out a breath. “Thanks.” He stares down at the coffee table, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Did your dad ever hit you?”

You shake your head. “Never directly. He got rough sometimes, grabbing us, squeezing too hard, yanking us around. He never stopped my brothers when they got too rough, though. They liked to wrestle, and I wanted to join because I wanted to spend time with my cooler older brothers. Sometimes they’d forget I was smaller than them and I got hurt a couple times. He never reprimanded them when it happened. I think he enjoyed it more than anything. He mostly just yelled a lot.”

“Trad alphas only speak the language of yelling and violence.” He says. “If my father wasn’t screaming at us, his fists were getting the message across. Sometimes he’d do both at the same time.” Ghost shakes his head. “Real pieces of shit, trad alphas. Makes me sick, the kinds of things they believe in.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to you.” You say, fishing for anything to follow up his confession with. Nothing feels right, nothing feels like enough.

He shrugs. “It happened. It’s in the past. He died a few years ago. Left nothing but a stain behind.”

“What happened to your mom and brother?” You ask.

“Tommy got into drugs for a while, but he cleaned up and got married. Mum lives with him now. Still doing well.” He says.

You’re surprised by his words. You’ve always heard that omegas don’t last long without their alphas. But what if their alpha was an asshole? Is the relief of their death enough to scrub out the grief of losing your alpha?

You stare at the side of Ghost’s head, your heart thudding in your chest. You feel sorry for him, but at the same time, you’re grateful he shared this with you. You have much more in common than you thought you did with the giant aloof alpha. Maybe, perhaps, this can be a way for the two of you to grow closer, maybe you finally have common ground that you can share with him to get him to open up to you more. You know he wants it. The revelation of his disappointment at your lack of greeting, and the fact he let you hug him is enough to tell you he wants something more with you. It might never breach the realm of romance or even a casual fling, but you can’t deny the bond is there. You can feel it, the tugging in your chest as you look at him, the butterflies in your stomach when he puts a hand on your back to steer you through the crowd in the mess.

You want him to want you. You want him to open up, to peel the layers back and bare his very soul to you. He’s already started. This confession is the beginning of that kind of bond between you. That he trusts you enough to tell you this makes something flutter in your chest.

If only he knew you were keeping something worse from him.

You could tell him. Confess to him right here, right now. Spill it all in this sort of mock confessional, this mock therapy session between you. He’ll be mad, but perhaps after everything that’s transpired today, he’ll be lenient. You’re not sure you could say the same about John, though.

“Ghost, I-” You start but he cuts you off.

“Simon.”

“What?” You breathe, blinking in shock as he turns to face you.

“My name. It’s Simon.”

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnes

@protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai

@redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg

@beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff

@smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60

@evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine

@thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows

@ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce

@darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood

@daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #141 x reader #John price x reader #captain John price x reader #kyle gaz Garrick x reader #Kyle Garrick x reader #gaz x reader #Johnny soap mactavish x reader #Johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #Simon ghost Riley x reader #Simon Riley x reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse

2K notes · View notes