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literaryavenger · 10 months

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Love Is A Battlefield

Summary: Bucky gets hurt during a mission and you can't help but blame yourself.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language cause why not. Mentions of Bucky's past. Injuries. Overprotective reader. Description of violence. Fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: This was inspired by this post and a dream I had lol. I couldn't help but start writing and this is what came out. Enjoy.

Masterlist

"Who the fuck do you think you’re calling a bitch, you ass?" you sneer at the guy to your left right before kicking him in the stomach and then bringing his head down on your knee when he doubles over, effectively knocking him out.

"Language!" you hear in you earpiece and roll your eyes.

"Why don’t you shut the fuck up, Rogers." you tell him while making your way through the corridor, taking Hydra agents down as you go.

"Can’t you do this without cursing so much?!" he sounds more exasperated at you than at the agents he’s supposed to keep distracted outside.

"Can’t you stop bitching in my ear? I’m a little busy here!" all he answers with is a groan and you know you won this round.

You hear Sam crackling before he says "1-0 to Y/N." which makes you laugh.

"Thanks, Sammy."

"Anytime, baby." you roll your eyes at his nickname, the small distraction allowing an agent to get too close to you and you feel a sharp pain in your forearm and almost drop your gun.

"Shit!" you hiss at the pain and zero in on the idiot that cut you.

You can hear the concerned voices in your ear, but don’t allow yourself to get distracted again as you take care of the last few agents on your side of the building.

"Y/N, are you okay? What’s happening? Can someone get to her?" you hear Bucky’s voice for the first time since the mission started and you can’t help the warm feeling it brings, the concern in his voice making you answer almost immediately.

"Just give me a minute!" you say as you battle the last guy standing.

Once you’ve successfully knocked him out, you take a second to breathe before addressing the voices still coming to your ear while you make your way through the maze of corridors in this Hydra base.

"I’m okay guys, but apparently all these people have some sort of collective knife kink." you say and you can hear Steve’s annoyed groan and the rest of the team’s laughter as you check out your cut. Not too deep, you think to yourself.

You think you hear a relieved sigh between the laughter, but almost instantly forget about it as you finally come to the door you’ve been looking for.

"Clint, status?" you ask him since he’s on the roof, being the eyes on the whole operation.

"Everyone’s thoroughly distracted out here." he answers.

"Good. James, Sam, are you done with the explosives?" you can hear Sam grunting as you enter the room, locating the computer you need and turning it on.

"Just a second!" Sam says, you hear a couple of punches landing and then "Done. This place is ready to blow as soon as you have the files."

"And hurry, we can’t hold them off forever." Steve adds.

"Inserting the USB now, I need at least 5 minutes for the download to finish. Friday, remember to copy Hill at Shield HQ and to save the files in the Avengers private server." you tell the AI as you make your way through the office, grabbing files that seem important as the digital ones download.

"Really? Why the private server?" Steve asks between punches.

"Because, Captain Dumbass, these files could contain sensitive information about one of our own. We have to be careful with them." you say while still looking through the cabinets of papers.

"Do you have to be so mean to me?" he almost whines.

"Hey, it’s your best friend that I’m looking out for." you say almost laughing.

"Yeah, I’m sure it’s me you’re doing this for." You can basically hear the smirk in Steve’s voice but before you can answer, Natasha cuts in.

"Are you two done bickering?" she says annoyed.

"Oh no, please, let them keep going, this is so entertaining." Tony comments, but you get distracted from the conversation when you find a black box in one of the desk drawers that was previously locked, you open it and can’t help the gasp that escapes you. Bucky’s dog tags.

"Guys… do we have to blow up this base?" you ask, quieter than you’d like, leaving everyone else confused. Between all of the “what”s you hear Steve say your name.

"You know the drill, we download the digital files, save as much of the paper ones as we can and then blow the building up. This one’s no different." he tells you, but you can’t help but disagree.

"I think it is…" you can hear them asking you to explain, so you do, trying to find the right way to say this "I think… I think this is the first base they took James to." you say, still talking quietly but loud enough for them to hear.

The comms go silent, everyone processing what you just say, only the sound of battling going on, but you’re only worried about one person.

"James?"

Nothing.

"James, are you okay?" you can’t help but worry, his silence snapping you out of the trance you were in, you close the box you were still staring at and put it safely in your pocket, your hand going to your ear instinctively.

"Bucky?!" He still doesn’t answer.

You hear a bip behind you and Friday lets you know the download is complete, you take the drive and make your way out, your worry only increasing with every step.

"Does anyone have eyes on Barnes?" you ask the rest of the team.

"Oh no." Clint says, and you stop immediately, your heart beating out of your chest.

"What?! You can’t just say ‘oh no’ and not elaborate, Barton!" your mind is going into overdrive, not knowing what to expect.

"I have eyes on him, but you’re not gonna like it."

"What do you mean, Clint?! just say it!" this time Steve is the one to snap at him.

"He’s getting surrounded, it looks like he’s passed out." you swear you can actually feel your heart stopping.

"Can anybody get to him?" you say desperately.

"He’s got maybe 2 minutes before he’s surrounded, everybody’s too far or too busy." yeah, Clint’s really not giving you any good news today.

"Can’t you help him out?!" you almost yell at him.

"Not without hurting him, there are just too many!" he sounds more worried with every word and you know it’s bad. "Technically you’re the closest." He informs you and you frown.

"What do you mean, technically?" You look out the window of the corridor you found yourself in, looking towards the roof and find Clint already looking down at you while he speaks without stopping his aid of the others with his arrows.

"The second window to your left. He’s right under it." you go to said window and try to open it, but it’s closed shut.

"These windows are bulletproof, Clint can you break it somehow?"

"I can, but you could get hu-"

"Just do it!" you yell, cutting him off.

You can see him aim an arrow to the window, it hits its target and you can hear Clint counting down from 3 before it shatters.

You take no time to be careful of the glass as you take a little disk from your belt and press the button while pointing it at the ground.

A rope shoots out of it and anchors to the floor and, while attaching the other end to the back of your suit, you make a mental note to thank Tony for always updating your tactical suits with new useful gadgets.

You leap out the window, landing with your feet on the wall, basically running down on it as you take out your guns and start shooting down at the now dumbfounded agents.

Before they can even figure out where the shooting is coming from, you're on the ground next to Bucky, cutting the rope with a knife, then stabbing the agent closest to you.

You’re punching, kicking and shooting, trying your best not to get too far away from Bucky, basically shielding him with your body.

You hear a faint ‘holy shit’ from Clint and the other’s voices come through but you can’t follow the conversation, your whole focus on keeping Bucky safe.

You stray a little too far away from him as you do the take down move Natasha taught you on one of the agents, your legs around his neck as you bring him down to the ground.

When you turn around you see one guy getting dangerously close to Bucky’s unconscious body and you feel a sudden burst of possessiveness throughout your own body.

"He’s mine." you basically growl, taking a knife from the body of the guy you just took down and throwing it.

It lodges perfectly in his throat and he goes down right away, blood pouring out of him. You have no time to be disgusted as you keep taking down agents and, one after the other, they all drop.

The second the last one touches the ground, you're kneeling down next to Bucky.

"Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, please don't be dead..." you keep repeating, looking for the button on his tactical suit that monitors his health. Again, thanks Tony. You find it and press it "Friday, vitals."

"Heartbeat detected." the AI says and you immediately let out a breath of relief, not even knowing when you started holding your breath. "Head injury detected, possible concussion. Various cuts throughout his body. No other injuries detected."

It could be worse.

You give yourself a second to breathe while looking at Bucky, then talk into your comm, not taking your eyes off of him.

"Ok, guys, uhm... Bucky’s ass may be cute but it’s heavy. I’m gonna need a hand here." you hear some snickers and then Clint’s voice. "Cap and Sam are on their way."

You’re still looking at Bucky, almost worried that the second you take your eyes off of him his heartbeat is gonna stop, when you hear footsteps behind you and, almost automatically, you grab a knife next to your foot and throw it.

You hear it before you see it, the metal of the knife hitting Cap’s shield before he lowers it and, his face shocked and glad for his fast reflexes, he says "Relax, it’s just us."

"Sorry, I’m a little jumpy."

"Gee, wonder why." Sam says sarcastically as you turn back to Bucky.

"Just take James to the jet, Sam."

"Why do I have to carry his ass?" he whines like a child.

"Because you can fly, birdbrain, you’ll get there before we make it to the front gate." you’re almost irritated at this point, but when you turn to the duo and Sam gives you an unimpressed look, you sigh and try to calm down.

"Sorry, just… take him to safety. Please." Your voice is soft now, Bucky’s well-being the only thing on your mind. Sam picks up on your concern and gets serious, moving towards Bucky to pick him up.

"I’ll take him to the jet. See you guys there." and with that, he takes off.

You watch him go for a second before you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning around to see Steve’s equally concerned face.

"Relax, you heard Friday, he’s gonna be fine. Even if he does have a concussion the serum will heal him in an instant." you know he's right, thanks to the serum his bones heal overnight, a concussion is nothing.

But still, you can’t help the worry you feel.

"I’ll relax when he’s awake and I can see he’s fine." he’s about to say something back when you hear Tony’s voice in your ear.

"If you two are done making out about it, we really should be getting out of here." you roll your eyes and smile a little at the pink color Steve’s cheeks were turning while you start making your way to the front courtyard of the base where Natasha and Tony are still holding off the remaining Hydra agents that just seemed to keep coming.

The second he sees you both giving them a hand, Tony takes off towards the roof. "Incoming, Robin Hood, get ready for take off."

This is your cue to get to the jet, Steve, Natasha and you making your way to the front gate while still fighting, the remaining agents scrambling away the second the explosions inside the building start.

You all get to the jet and, after making sure everyone’s inside, Steve turns to Clint. "Take us home, Barton." he merely nods and makes his way to the pilot's seat, immediately taking off.

You make a beeline to where Bucky’s lying on a gurney, still unconscious.

"How is he?" you ask Bruce without taking your eyes away from the super soldier’s face.

"He’s okay, his cuts are already starting to heal themselves, so should be his head injury. He should wake up maybe within the hour, two tops." you nod and make your way to the chair beside his bed, taking his right hand in both of yours.

You don’t know why you do that, now that you think about it you’ve probably not even touched Bucky in general more than a handful of times.

You’re not the closest of friends, you work well together in the field and get along outside of it, you hang out in group settings such as game and movie nights, team trainings and the team-building outings Tony forces everybody to go on, but that’s about it.

The lack of one on one interactions, though, didn’t help you escape your growing crush for the long-haired super soldier. You just can’t help the warm feeling you get every time he’s even in the same room, let alone when he looks at you.

You can hide it when you’re in mission mode, always being professional, but the second it happens in a normal setting like the living room or the kitchen or the gym you turn into a flustered schoolgirl, stumbling over your words and blushing every time you have his attention.

You’ve convinced yourself he doesn’t notice, if he has he hasn’t said anything, but for your own piece of mind you pretend he just doesn’t.

Sometimes it seems like he does it on purpose, though. He’d get close enough that you can smell his cologne and basically feel his body heat.

Sometimes his hands hover on your waist while he passes by you, never actually touching you but just close enough to make you almost pass out at the feeling.

And you can swear you can see a smirk on his face, but it always disappears so fast it’s just easier to convince yourself you’re imagining it.

He would have the most innocent face while asking you if something’s wrong, and all you can answer with is a small ‘I’m fine’ before basically running away, never once seeing the smug look on his face at the flustered state only he manages to put you in.

You’re brought out of your head by Steve’s hand on your shoulder, again, as he says "he’s gonna be fine."

"It’s my fault…" you say quietly, ignoring his attempt at comforting you.

"It’s not y-" you interrupt him before he can even finish.

"Yes, it is. I distracted him." You say firmly before your voice softens. "They were so close to getting him, Steve..."

You can’t take your eyes off of Bucky, almost willing him to wake up, so you could apologize. "Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if they got to him? What they could’ve done to him…" you trail off, not wanting to voice all the possibilities out loud.

Of course you know Steve knows. He worries more than you for Bucky, his best friend, basically his brother, the only family he has left from his past life.

But Steve is having none of it.

"You wanna play the blame game? He wasn’t even supposed to be on this mission, but I couldn’t stop him. He knew what it entailed, he knew it was a base full of hydra agents, but he didn’t back down because it was the right thing to do. He wants to do good and help us take down Hydra for good, he knows the risks but it was his choice. You can’t take that on you." Logically you know he's annoyingly right, again, but looking at Bucky laying motionless you can’t help the guilt that creeps up on you.

"Friday," you say quietly, ignoring Steve’s confused look "play the footage of Bucky before he passed out coupled with the audio from our comms."

The hologram on the table in the middle of the jet lights up and Bucky’s figure can be seen fighting, then you can hear your own voice telling your theory to the group and Bucky halts for a second, he almost gets punched but avoids it at the last second, hitting the guy with his metal arm.

Steve turns to you with a smug look, knowing he was right, but you raise your hand before he can say anything and keep watching.

You see Bucky fighting and hear yourself calling his name and you can see his eyes rolling when you call him James. He’s asked you countless times to call him Bucky, but you always refuse, not sure why.

All you know it’s that it kind of annoys him but in a different way than when Sam or Peter annoy him, you can tell he’s not actually upset, it’s kind of your own little thing with him seeing as he doesn’t allow anyone else call him by his first name.

You can see Bucky still fighting and ignoring you, but when he hears you call him “Bucky” for the first time he stops, right as an agent is throwing a punch.

You see Bucky get hit in the jaw, stumble and fall, his head hitting the wall behind him pretty hard. He doesn’t get up, but you see the last agent standing get taken out by an arrow, Clint you assume.

You can hear your alarmed conversation with Clint as more agents slowly creep up on Bucky, probably being cautious, worried he could wake up any second, then there’s the sound of bullets flying and agents getting hit.

Suddenly you’re there.

You take your eyes off the screen, about to tell Steve that even he can’t deny now that it was your fault, but the whole team's attention was on the footage of you mercilessly taking out man after man, even Clint’s there watching after putting the jet on autopilot.

The look on your face frightening to the point where you almost don’t recognize yourself.

You don’t want to relive the moment, so you shift your attention back on Bucky, your hands still holding onto his.

You can hear Clint’s “holy shit” and then your “he’ mine” and you feel yourself heat up at the possessiveness in your voice.

The video gets paused and you can hear Tony asking "what the fuck was that?" his voice clearly amused, and you know what he’s asking you.

Before you can answer though, you feel Bucky’s hand squeeze yours softly, your eyes snaps down to it and then to his face while getting up from your chair.

He’s mumbling something that sounds very similar to your name but his eyes are still closed.

"James?" he slowly opens his eyes and they instantly find yours, a smile forming on his face that you can’t but mirror.

"How do you feel, Buck?" Steve asks him from beside you.

"Like I got hit really hard in the head." he groans while he tries to sit up, his hand still holding onto yours while you help him.

"Take it easy," Bruce tells him while stopping next to him on his other side "you probably don’t have a concussion, but I’d put some ice on your head to help with the headache."

"I’ll get it." you let go of Bucky, and walk to the mini freezer to get the ice pack.

Bucky takes a moment to look around him, his eyes landing on the screen where you’re frozen mid-fight.

"Friday, unpause the video." he says, curiosity taking over.

He watches you fight, protecting him with your life and he swears he’s never been more in awe in his life. He sees you get on your knees next to him and hears your whispers, praying for him to be okay, over and over.

He sees the relief in your face when Friday tells you he’s alive and he hears you call his ass “cute” as you ask the others for help, making him smile again.

"Friday, stop the footage." you say, ice in your hands but maintaining a safe distance from Bucky, embarrassed that he saw how worried you were for him.

You stand there in silence for a second while Bucky turns to look at you, the smirk on his face definitely real. You blush, cursing your body for how it reacts to his gaze, while Steve clears his throat.

"Why don’t we give you guys a minute..." he ushers everyone to the front of the jet, almost having to wrestle Tony to take him away from what he called 'his new favorite show'.

Bucky extends his right hand for you to take and you do as you get closer, your left hand going to carefully place the ice on the back of his head.

He hisses a little at the contact and you wince, giving him an apologetic smile, but his eyes never leave yours and his hand squeezes yours, letting you know he’s okay.

"I’m sorry." That's all you can say and, whatever you were expecting him to answer, it was definitely not what he says next.

"You should be." you bite your lip to stop it from trembling, your emotions getting the best of you and your guilt only growing, but he keeps going, "You distracted me. You’ve never said my name before, and it was the sweetest sound to ever come out of your mouth. Shame on you for keeping it from me for so long, doll."

He brings you closer to him, taking your hand in his left, his right going around your waist as he rests his chin on your stomach while looking up at you, your left hand still holding the ice to the back of his head.

You giggle at the puppy look he’s giving you, trying to resist the urge of leaning down and kissing him.

"Smooth, Barnes." he laughs with you, before growing more serious.

"You looked really worried." you feel your emotions bubbling up again.

"I was…" you say, your voice small "I’m sorry you got hurt because of me" you're basically whispering, afraid that if you raise your voice any louder the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold off will start falling.

"It’s not your fault, doll." before you can protest, he keeps going "and I’m fine. We’re all fine. I just took a little nap."

You roll your eyes at his attempt at a joke but can’t hide the smile starting to form on your face while he gives you a grin of his own.

You're so lost in his eyes that you almost forget about the reason all of this happened.

You let go of his hand and he gives you a confused look with a slight pout on his lips that just makes you smile more.

"Bucky," you start, taking the little box out of your pocket, but he interrupts you with an exaggerated gasp.

"Are you asking me to marry you, doll? Because, don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but maybe we should go on a date first." you can't help but laugh as you gave him a little shove, careful not to hurt him more.

"I’m not asking you to marry me, you jackass." you get more serious as you look at the box in your hand.

You don’t even realize you're biting your lip until Bucky reaches up and tugs it out. You look back at him and feel weirdly nervous, not knowing how he'll react.

"I found this at the base, and I’m pretty sure it belongs to you" you laugh a little out of nerves as he lets go of you to take the box and opens it.

He lets out a real gasp this time, fishing out the tags and holding them in his flesh hand, his face unreadable.

He looks back up at you and for a second your brain goes to the worst case scenario in which there's a lot of blood and screaming, but that image is quickly forgotten as Bucky gives you the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.

He places his hands behind your thighs and effortlessly moves you to straddle him, his movements so fast that you drop the ice pack out of surprise, but you don’t have time to do much as Bucky starts peppering kisses all over your face.

Your surprise turns into giggles and he slowly stops his assault, the smile never living his face, the look on his eyes that of pure adoration. "Thank you, doll… You don’t know what this means to me."

You don’t know if you’re imagining it, but you think Bucky’s starting to lean up and you think he’s about to kiss you when you hear a whistle followed by a slapping sound and an “ow”.

You both turn towards the sound to find the whole team looking at you two, Steve has a smirk on his face, Tony’s next to him, rubbing the back of his head and the rest of them are snickering.

"Seriously?!" your irritation does nothing to hide your blush, Bucky’s own embarrassment clear as he hides his face in your chest.

"What? Capsicle said a minute, we gave you a minute!" Tony said, earning another slap on the back of his head from Steve.

"Just go away!" you say laughing and they all go back to the front of the jet but you can hear their little laughs while they whisper, making you roll your eyes before looking down at Bucky who’s already looking up at you.

"Can you do me a favor, doll?" he asks you and you nod.

"Anything."

"I’d hate to lose these. Hold on to them for me?" he says, holding up his dog tags.

"Are you sure?" you ask uncertainly as he puts them around your neck.

"I’m more than sure." he says while looking at them on your chest and then looking back into your eyes, his smile impossibly big and you’re sure yours looks the same.

He wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer and you wrap one arm around his neck, your other hand going to play with the tags around your neck. You’re looking down at them when Bucky speaks again.

"So," He starts, his smile becoming a teasing smirk. "you think my ass is cute, huh?"

You groan, hiding your face in the crook of his neck while he laughs at your reaction.

You can hear the others laughing too and can’t help the laugh that comes out of you, more sure now than ever that everything is gonna be okay.

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antoine-roquentin · 2 years

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Norfolk Southern is the rail company that’s behind the chemical spill and environmental disaster in East Palestine, Ohio. Its HQ is located in Atlanta.

Norfolk Southern’s 2022 ESG investment report says they awarded $328,000 in community grants in 2021, “such as money for a police department to purchase new life-saving or essential equipment.” That’s virtually certain to mean they donated to the Atlanta Police Foundation, the second richest police foundation in the country behind New York’s.

Police foundations are non-profits (so tax-deductible donations) who have the stated aim of “improving policing”. In actuality, they serve as a dark money slush funds, allowing corporations to fund police and gain a direct line to individual officers for when they want things done, while allowing police to do things that they otherwise couldn’t with private money, like buy heavily militarized gear or pay for propaganda content.

Most of the funding for the Atlanta Police Training Facility (aka Cop City) is coming from the Atlanta Police Foundation. The facility is intended to provide urban counterinsurgency training for police around the country and across the world, training them on how best to suppress protest movements like BLM in 2020.

That means Ohio’s people and animals are being poisoned to fund the extrajudicial killing of protestors and destruction of the environment in Atlanta, which will then be used to do those same things across the country.

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foone · 1 year

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you know what'd be a fun idea for a trek fanshow? Star Trek: Mission Logs. You just put a couple people in starfleet uniforms, and have them read off summaries of episodes in an increasingly incredulous tone. Like Drunk History: Star Trek Edition.

"so the captain says that while on the way to the inauguration ceremony, they diverted course to Vulcan as their first officer needed SO MUCH to fuck that he was a week from death, but then when they got there, he got stood up, and then fought the captain TO DEATH but he was ok?"

"so it turns out when they disappeared during the battle with the borg, they went back in time and found out that the first use of warp drive had been undone, so they had to personally help Cochrane rebuild his ship, and they were there for first contact!?"

I say "drunk history" because I imagine the people at the starfleet HQ have to drink heavily to handle the kind of reports they keep getting in from starfleet captains.

"So after a miserable first contact, the commander, doctor, first officer, and science officer disappeared, and their security officer found that the boardgame the barkeep was playing had pieces that represented them? and they were somehow mystically imprisoned inside the game!"

"so the captain says that they detected a ship trapped inside a black hole (!?) and when they tried to rescue the ship, they got damaged and then discovered they were that ship, trapped inside without realizing. Fortunately they found the crack in the event horizon and escaped." (the lieutenant then passes out after finishing the entire bottle of Bolian vodka)

"So while they were on a vital mission to locate the aliens who had blown up florida and were planning to destroy the entire planet, they found a... Cowboy Planet!?" Everyone yells "COWBOY PLANET!" and takes a shot.

"So while testing a weapons upgrade, a crewmember's case of flu was accidentally turned into an infectious de-evolutionary mutagen, causing the crewmember to turn into a spider, and the rest of the crew to undergo similar changes." "stop, stop, STOP! you made that one up, admit it!" "no, really! Their counselor turned into a frog." "ok, now I'm just not going to believe anything you say."

"so a former captain of the ship was visiting when they tried to rescue a ship flying directly into a supernova, but got 'pulled in'!? and ended up in a REVERSE TIME UNIVERSE? naturally, everyone quickly de-aged to children, and the elderly former captain had to take command" "Spelk, you're not even trying this time, that's not even remotely plausible"

"So it turns out that the terrorist who took over the paradise planet was the first officer's (half-)brother, and he uses his magic hypnosis to cause the crew to mutiny and join his mission to travel to the middle of the galaxy... and find god!?" "Did... did they find god?" "oh yeah! turns out he was evil. Don't worry, the first officer blew him up using a klingon warbird." "he blew up god?" "yeah!"

"So this is a little different, it's not a mission log... it's a repair log." "That doesn't sound like it'd be very weird..." "Oh, just you wait. So, they had to get refueled because all their dilithium had been stolen." "Stolen?" "Yes. By a man from AN ANTIMATTER DIMENSION" "So a man in an antimatter dimension discovered there were two dimensions, and his matter counterpart went insane and obsessed with killing the anti-matter version of him, but meeting outside the dimensional corridor would destroy both universes" "both... universes? So if the captain didn't stop these guys, everyone in our entire universe and some other one would be gone?" "YEP!" "did he stop them? well, I guess he did, since we're still here" "oh yeah. trapped 'em in the dimensional corridor forever." "so they're just out there in some weird in-between-the-universes place, just fighting, for all time? and that's the only reason we haven't blown up?" "YEP!" "and this all came out in the logs... because they put in for repairs?" "yeah. to replace the stolen dilithium" "are you sure the captain wasn't really into dabo or kotra and wagered the dilithium crystals on a "sure thing" that didn't pan out?"

"So this one is a report of some people (with pictures!) who don't exist." "They don't exist?" "Nope! never did. They weren't born." "So, we have pictures of them, because?" "Well, the ship crashed, and the stranded crew had kids... then they uncrashed." "uncrashed?" "yeah! so it turns out when they approached the planet, they got thrown a couple centuries back in time, and met their descendants. then when they tried to leave, the ship would crash, restarting the loop. but it didn't." "it didn't?" "yeah, one of the crew was secretly in love with another officer, but she wasn't going to survive the crash, so despite the crew attempting to recreate the crash to continue the existence of their past-future-descendants, he sabotaged the ship into not crashing" "wait, into not crashing? he did sabotage to make everything... work perfectly?" "yeah! they were trying to crash, remember? So they inadvertently didn't crash, undoing the existence of all of their descendants, so they never existed. But here's their pictures!"

"ooh, I found a really weird one! It's not a mission report, medical file, or even another repair log" "So what is it? Another weird artifact?" "no no no, I sent those off to the SCP division. This is a SPY REPORT! About a dead Romulan!" "So this report is on a spy saying that the Romulans had gotten access to some secret information about the then-upcoming Intrepid-class starships. Very minimal info, but this was found in a Romulan database when the ship was just undergoing initial design stages" "Here's the weird part: The database file with the information on the Intrepid was timestamped 2351, but Starfleet didn't even start initial design work on the Intrepid until 2364!" "So they used time travel? to get... basic information on one single starship class?" "Kinda? See, there's a P.S. on the spy file, added later when it was declassified. The leaked info in the Romulan database was discovered in 2371, but the file was updated in 2378, with an explanation." "and?" "Remember when the U.S.S. Voyager was lost?" "oh yeah, they turned out to have just been stuck on the other side of the galaxy, right?" "Yeah! And while they were there, they found a microscopic wormhole, and successfully used it to communicate back with the Romulans... but discovered it was a TIME WORMHOLE" "oh, so they were talking to the Romulans back in 2351?" "Yep! They figured that out and then decided not to transport through the wormhole, as they would have gotten home 20 years before they left, but they sent some messages back to be delivered later. They didn't come through" "why not?" "well... turns out the romulan guy (Telek R'Mor) died before Voyager ever launched, so he never got a chance to deliver the messages. but he DID inform the Tal Shiar about some design elements of the Intrepid class, years before it was launched" "that must have confused them" "yes... the report is basically just two spy agencies completely confused about what to do about the intelligence they had, and confused about why they had it"

"ok ok ok, enough artifacts, mission logs, spy reports, medical reports, repair logs, how about a really weird one: A SENSOR REPORT!" "why is that one weird?" "well, look at the timestamp. Both of them." "so one timestamp is 2372, and the other is... negative 16 billion?" "yep! This one is a scan of the big bang. And slightly before it." "... before?" "Yeah! They did a scan, and then THE BIG BANG HAPPENED, and then fortunately they got out of there before the universe fully existed, as that would exceed the ship's safety tolerances" "so... why were they at the big bang?" "well... you know the farpoint encounter, and that godly being the USS Enterprise ran into?" "oh god (uh, no pun intended)... but yeah, vaguely" "WELL it turns out there was another one of those godly beings who was suicidal and imprisoned in a comet, and-" "wait wait wait. there was a god trapped in a comet?" "yes. apparently they're infinitely powerful but weak to comets. ANYWAY. he was suicidal and trying to hide" "hide? WHAT DOES A GOD HAVE TO HIDE FROM?" "well he was hiding from the other god! the one at farpoint! that one was the one who imprisoned him. because he was suicidal." "so the god was in the comet, and the other god put him there, and someone let him out? and then he hid?" "yes! and where does a god hide?" "at the big bang?" "slightly before, but yes! and he took the ship along with him, so that's how they were able to scan the big bang. because of getting involved in a weird game of hide-and-seek between a suicidal god and a jailer-god" "so what happened? how did they get out of the whole god-war thing?" "well... usual stuff. they put the god on trial to see if he could be allowed to die, but compromised on making him human and a crew member" "so they had a former god on their crew?" "briefly. then he died." "he died? after settling for human?" "yeah, it turned out the jailer-god changed his mind and decided to rebel against god-society and started by giving the former-god some deadly poison to let him finally die, like he wanted" "well, at least that seems to have ended... well?"

"oh no, there's a follow up! see, it seems the dead god thing lead to a god-civil-war and it seems that caused a bunch of supernovae in 2373." "wait... supernovae? plural? like, outshined-the-entire-galaxy SUPERNOVAE? that must have killed billions, or trillions!" "yep! it was a massive disaster and caused a real crisis in astronomy because we had no idea why it was happening, but it suddenly stopped, thankfully. But yes, it was started because the crew accidentally freed a suicidal god from a comet." "oh god..." "literally!"

"don't worry, though... that's not the weird bit" "HOW IS THAT NOT THE WEIRD BIT?" "OK I PROMISE I'M NOT MAKING THIS UP... but after the first supernovae of the 2373 Calamity, it turns out the captain (of the ship that killed the god) discovered another god... in her bed" "her... bed?" "Yeah! it turns out the other god wanted to have a child. with her." "... that's weird but what does this have to do with the supernovae?" "he wanted to end the war, and figured the best way to do it was to get her pregnant with a god-baby"

"NOPE! That's it! I'm out. that's not real. you're making it up. We don't live in a universe where one captain caused death across the universe by sparking a god-war and then only ending it by having a baby with a god. I'm out. I have a Warp Dynamics test to study for anyway."

"wait! wait! I didn't even tell you about the time she turned into a lizard and had babies with her pilot" "NO! I DON'T CARE HOW MANY WEIRD THINGS YOU MAKE UP, THERE ARE NO LIZARD BABIES"

"no, I swear, it really happened! Look, they went infinitely fast and occupied every point in the universe!" "THAT'S NOT HOW SPEED WORKS" "it is! and it turns out going everywhere at once infinitely fast turns you into a lizard!" "*sigh* Are there any reports on unhearing that?"

I imagine they sometimes decide to go HARD MODE on the report readings, where they have to put aside all the ones with "Voyager" on them. They're just too easy.

"So I've got two reports here, and I want you to pick between them. One is the second weirdest transporter visitor log, and the other is a report on why a science officer is 30 years old... except his head, which is 495 years old!" "I'm going to cut you off there, because I know your tricks: those are both the same incident." "Yep! You got me. Am I really that predictable?" "You are. Also, second weirdest transporter visitor log? You phrased that very specifically..." "I wanted to rule out all the transporter accidents and strange misuses of the transporter, and focus solely on WHO was transported. This was the second weirdest person." "I'm not going to take the obvious bait and ask who it was... but I will ask: who is the weirdest?" "Lincoln. Abraham Lincoln. President of the United States, a predecessor to the unified Earth government... he died in 1865." "WHY WAS HE TRANSPORTED? Who was time traveling back to the 1860s? and if they were in the 1860s, why were they beaming up Presidents?" "HARDMODE: No time travel! He was transported out of open space in 2269, because he had been recreated by the local mineral beings on their lava-planet" "why... why did the lava aliens recreate a 19th century Earth president?" "To study GOOD AND EVIL!" "Like you do, I guess?" "Yeah... anyway, the recreated Lincoln got killed by a spear, thrown by either Genghis Khan or Kahless the Unforgettable" "THE FOUNDER OF THE KLINGON EMPIRE?" "Yeah! he got recreated too. And teamed up with Genghis." "No. no no no no no you made this up" "It's real! Check it out, there's a message here to the diplomatic department, asking for the proper protocol to accept a 19th century US president abort a quasi-military vessel. And there's a video clip! Hit play on that..."

"Man, video quality was terrible back in 2269" "Yeah, they were using analog tapes back then. Don't ask why. Retrotechnology studies are so complicated even without timetravel messing everything up. So yeah, apparently the answer is 'dress uniforms, security guys, whistle'" "oh yeah. You can't welcome a 19th century Earth president on board without a whistle. Where's your sense of ceremony!?"

"So I really have to go, my Intermediate Klingoneese class starts in like 5 minutes, but just tell me one thing: Who was the 2nd weirdest transporter visitor on the logs?" "Oh! Samuel Clemens." "Who?" "Mark Twain! Earth author, wrote Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn?" "What? How?" "Yeah, a crew found a time portal that went back to 1893, while trying to figure out why the head of one of their crewmembers was in a cave on earth, and accidentally sent him forward to 2368, and beamed him aboard." "Did they wipe his memory afterwards or something?" "NOPE!" "So the 19th century Earth author Mark Twain, who I'm now remembering wrote a novel about time travel, didn't he?" "yep!" "So he wrote about time travel and HAD PERSONAL EXPERIENCE WITH IT?" "Yeah! thanks to snake aliens, eating humans in the past"

"Yeah I'm gonna go ask my teacher how they say 'You deserve to die for your lies' on Qo'noS" "I think it's... Hegh nep qotlh SoH? maybe 'urmang instead of nep?" "I'M OUT, petaQ!"

(a transcript of a twitter thread I made from back in July 2020)

#star trek #star trek voyager #star trek the next generation #star trek deep space 9 #star trek enterprise

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cherryredstars · 9 months

Text

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Mike Schmidt, Hobie Brown, Miles-42 x gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Suggestive Content with Miguel, A Little Bit of Angst with Miles

Summary: How would the boys treat you on your birthday?

A/N: In honor of my birthday (WOO)!

Word Count: 1.7K (Unedited)

Miguel O'Hara

You hang out with him in his office at HQ all day. He has your favorite food delivered to base, and you spend the whole day talking his ear off as he works. Today is the only day he doesn't mind people coming in and out of his office, as long as they do so to wish you a happy birthday.

He has LYLA keep you company, finding her only a tad bit less annoying, even as she randomly breaks out into happy birthday and makes birthday memes pop up on his screen like a virus. He only wants to strangle her when she keeps making birthday sex jokes and hinting a little too much at the gifts waiting for you at home.

When the two of you do make it home, you're excited to see the pile of gifts overflowing in the living room. Some of them are from the spiders in HQ, but more than one is from Miguel. You guys get take out, and spend the rest of the night opening gifts. You guys laugh at the ones from the younger spider-people, and try not to cringe at the more questionable ones (a difference in universe maybe?).

When the two of you finish going through the gifts and ate all the food, Miguel pulls you up off the floor. He gives you a cheeky smile, leading you towards the bedroom for one last birthday present. Huh, I guess LYLA was right about the birthday sex.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

As much as he wants to, he can't ask to go on leave in advance. Even if he did send in the request, it would be hastily denied. Going on leave because of a singular day and for a non-emergency cause? The higher ups would laugh in his face. So, his only hope is to not be deployed during that time.

If he is deployed during that time, he'll keep his eye on the clock, counting down the seconds until it hits midnight in your timezone. Then, at exactly zero hundred hours, your phone will light up with a message from Simon. It's a simple "Happy birthday. Miss you." text, but it makes you smile nonetheless. If you're lucky, you might get a voice message from all of 141 wishing you a happy birthday, horrible, off-key singing from Soap included! And if you're really lucky, you might even get a call if Simon's in a good, secure location where he knows his cellular usage can't be tracked or intercepted.

He already got a gift for you in advance. He'll tell you where he hid it, or tell you to keep an ear out for the doorbell. If he hid it, you rush over to the hiding spot, setting your phone up to record a video for him. You make a big show of it to keep him entertained, and at the end of the video you thank him repeatedly for the gift, adding in that you miss him and you'll see him when he comes back home. When he gets gifts delivered to you, it's usually flowers and maybe something extra like an Amazon package. You put your new flowers in the nicest vase you have, sending Simon a picture and heart emojis.

If-by the grace of god- he's home on your birthday, you get spoiled silly. Today is all about you and what you want to do. Breakfast in bed? Okay, waffles or pancakes? Movie night? Okay, it's your pick. Drinks at the pub? Let's stop to get a pack first. Simon does prefer to stay in with you on your birthday, but again, if you want to have a night out on the town, he's happy to follow along. Though, if you do stay home, don't look in the fridge! You don't want to risk taking a peak at the cake he bought, do you?

Mike Schmidt

Called out of work the day before. He wakes up super early, slipping out of bed to wake up Abby. She complains a little, and you have to pretend you weren't awake the second Mike got out of bed and you have to stifle your laughter at her grumbling out in the hall. The smell of breakfast is strong, and you wait a good 11 minutes (it would be too perfect if it was an even number), before slipping out of bed. You act all surprised when you walk into the kitchen, catching them making you breakfast. They instantly drag you into a chair, making you sit as they plate your food and slide over your coffee. You have to fight your tears when Abby gives you a hand drawn birthday card. Just for that, she can steal a bit of your bacon.

The three of you just spend the day at home. You draw with Abby, thanking her for all the birthday drawings. The three of you make a mess in the kitchen as you make the birthday cake, and somehow frosting gets stuck in all of your hair. You sing happy birthday after dinner, which of course is your favorite meal, and the three of you settle onto the couch to watch TV. You allow Abby to stay up until she falls asleep on the sofa.

Once she's gone to bed, Mike pulls you close to his side, pressing a kiss to your lips and muttering another happy birthday. You smile at him, and it grows wider when he pulls your gift from his pocket. The two of you are silent as you open it, and you gasp when you see what's inside. You thank him with a million smooches on his face, that makes him chuckle. Then, when it gets too late and the both of you remember he has work tomorrow, you retreat back to the bedroom for some much needed rest. Clean up is for another day.

Hobie Brown

Is it really a surprise that he forgets it's your birthday? Hey, in his defense, time and dates are just a social construct made to control the natural world!

He only remembers when one of his (current) band mates or a Spider in the society ask him what he has planned for your birthday. He knows he's fucked the second they ask him. He has nothing planned, he has yet to say happy birthday to you despite talking to you just this morning, and to top it all off, he has only just realized you were hinting about it throughout your morning conversation. And do you want to know what he said in response to your, Hobie, baby, do you think something important is happening today? Trust me, you don't because his answer may or may not have been, Unless 10 Downing is fist bumping a wrecking ball today, then no. Yeah, did he mention he was fucked?

So, in true Hobie fashion, he's gonna think quick and get himself out of trouble. What could he use as the perfect excuse for completely forgetting your birthday? Make it seem intentional! And how do you make it seem intentional? Throwing a totally killer surprise party that would give the PM a heart attack! He recruits the help of his band mates and Gwen, setting up your favorite venue that the band played in for a previous gig. He gets you a cake, a funny card, and some random trinkets he sees along the way. He'll have the band play anything you request or the night. Oh, don't forget your own friends! He'll let them know before he picks you up.

He's totally casual when he returns to the flat, all nonchalant as he tells you to get dressed up. When you ask why, he just shrugs and says riot. You stare at him like you expect him to say something extra, but you sigh when he doesn't. With your back turned to him, he allows himself to briefly flicker red. When he gets you to the venue, you're happily surprised, bumping into him and teasing that you thought he forgot. He chuckles nervously in response, finally wishing you a happy birthday. At the end of the night, after you got the celebration you deserved and the two of you lay at home in a half-awake state, he admits the truth to you when you're too sleepy to get mad at him. Hey, real men admit to their mistakes and fear the wrath of their partners.

Miles 42

He does the thing. You know, the obnoxious thing where you show up to school, and then suddenly you have a brightly colored birthday stash over your shoulder and a gift bag attached to 50 different HAPPY BIRTHDAY balloons? Yeah, he does that shit, and he does it with PRIDE. He will be damned if you aren't walking the halls and a stranger randomly yells out a birthday greeting to you in passing. You better hope you don't have any classes with him, because every class you guys share, he's making them sing happy birthday. Even if you get embarrassed and melt into your chair. At lunch, he's already got a birthday cupcake waiting for you and he did, in fact, skip the last period just so he could go get your favorite takeout to make sure it's still hot.

Rio definitely invited you over for dinner, and he spends the whole meal telling his Ma all about the things he did for you today. It makes her laugh, and she playfully swats the back of his head when you whine about how embarrassed you were all day.

When dinner is done, Miles drags you out of his house and walks you down to the familiar streets to the car lot. He helps you in, and you gasp when you see the inside of the car. He has candles placed carefully around, and a cake sits in the back seat with plastic forks and more gifts. Your smile is goofy as he quietly sings happy birthday to you, and you blow out the candle as he whoops and hollers playfully. The two of you dig into the cake, having quiet conversation until you feel like you'll throw up from all the sugar.

But as you're about to open the last of your gifts, his phone begins to ring. Looks like your birthday wish didn’t come true after all.

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deviantdaffodil · 1 year

Text

In Heat

Miguel O’hara x Reader smut

IM ALIVE !!!! WAHHH i need miguel o’hara more than ANYTHING !!!!!!!!

!!SMALL SPOILERS MENTIONED EARLY ON!!

contains: biting, breeding, office sex, clawing, a bit of blood, choking, praise, dom miguel, sub reader, fem reader, size difference, heat, in heat, whatever you call it, dubious consent/very very very slight non con if you squint, primal/prey if you close your eyes, slight anal play if you squint

You decided you wanted to go up and visit Miguel. He had been busy since he was struggling so hard to find Miles Morales, so you wanted to go and try to cheer him up. You were a spider-person yourself and though your canon event went nothing like Miguel’s, you still felt so bad for him and took it upon yourself to be a sort of.. support system for him.

You enter the elevator of the HQ and make your way up to the top floor. Felt fitting for Miguel to have his office be the highest up.

Upon reaching the top, you step off the elevator and enter his office. “Miguel?” you call out into the darkness. You thought it was so strange how.. spooky his office felt. You became a little nervous, unable to locate Miguel. A tingle shot throughout your body and you quickly whip your body around. Standing behind you, Miguel towered over you. You jumped slightly, clenching your hand around your heart. You slip your mask off your face and look up at Miguel. “You scared me,” you said nervously with a slight chuckle.

Miguel slid his mask off as well and looked into your eyes. He was panting and sweating and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. “You shouldn’t really be here.”

You pout. He always liked your company. What’s gotten into him? Well.. you two weren’t exactly dating per se, so it’s possible he just didn’t want to be around you at the moment.. This thought hurt your feelings a little. “Is everything alright? Did I do something?” Your voice is so innocent and Miguel shudders; unbeknownst to you, pleasure and lust are clouding his mind and all he can think about is locking the door and taking you right then and there. He’s been anxious and hesitant to start a new relationship, but something about you made him go wild. He needed you, bad.

“You just- you wouldn’t get it,” he said, exasperated. “I just. I can’t be around you, it’s not safe - you’re not safe.”

You tilt your head. Again, your innocence and ignorance about the situation makes his cock throb. “Why not?”

An animalistic growl erupted in his throat. he just could not take it anymore. The shock of the noise made you back up a good bit. This only made him smirk; he enjoyed the hunt. He lunged at you on all fours; you yelp unable to get away fast enough and he quickly rips your suit across the front, nicking your flesh in the process. He latches his teeth onto your throat and bites down with a force that leaves you temporarily breathless. Heat immediately floods into your body and travels between your legs.

“M-Miguel!” Your voice cracked as you shouted, trying to get him off of you by hitting him with your fist. You did not want someone to see the two of you right now. Miguel kissed and licked at the wounds he made on your flesh. It felt like electricity was flowing through you and you moaned slightly. You carefully hold up your arm and fire a web at the door, in hopes it keeps people out. “Miguel!” your voice is now more stern.

He looks up at you, his eyes seem to glow red as your blood drips from his lip. “I need you,” he pleaded. “I need to fill you up, please..” He brushed his fingers against your clothed pussy as he pleaded with you. You instinctively grind your body against his fingers and bite your lip. It was your turn to pounce, capturing his lips in a kiss, tasting your blood on them. This was all he needed for confirmation; his claws came out and he started ripping off your suit and his own. Once he freed his cock, he held his hand up to your face. “Spit. Now,” he growled at you. You did as he asked and spit in his hand. He rubbed some of your saliva onto his cock and then some was used to lube his fingers for your pussy.

“I need you to be good and wet for my cock, okay,” he started to babble, “I don’t want to hurt you,” he cooed as he rubbed his finger around your pussy, careful to avoid your clit or your dripping hole. You were whining and whimpering while he played with your pussy and leaned in for a kiss, gently biting your lip. You were instinctively bucking your hips against his hand, praying you would get the friction you wanted so badly.

“Miguel please,” you pleaded as you run your hand down his chest to his v-line. Another growl rummbled in his throat. He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, giving your ass a good smack or two, earning a delicious whimper from you. He took you to his desk and ran his hand across the desk, knocking everything off of it. He laid you down on your stomach on the desk and spread your legs with his knee.

He leaned over you, his toned chest pressed against your back. “I’m going to fill your pussy with my cum and put a baby in you, you slut,” he growled into your ear. Just his voice made your pussy tremple. He slapped his massive cock against your ass and began fucking your plump ass cheeks, using his own spit as lube. He grabbed both ass cheeks and squished them together on his cock as he thrusted. Once he was satisfied, he spit on his cock again and rubbed the tip of his cock around your hole to tease you. You let out a cry when he accidentally brushed it up against your clit and that was what sent him over the edge. Immediately, he stuffed his cock into you. Tears formed in your eyes and you cried out as loud as you could, babbling about how full his big cock made you feel.

He grabbed your hips then dug his claws into them, pounding away at your pussy. He continued squeezing and smacking your ass as he abused your womb. You were crying out for more and more as he bottomed out his cock in you.

“M-Miguel! Oh god don’t stop! I don’t want this to stop! Oh god you fill me up so good! Your cock is so big and so good!” you moaned, completely cock drunk. Miguel leaned forward, still abusing your pussy. He wrapped his hand around your throat and allowed his claws to dig into your flesh.

“You gonna let me cum inside? Gonna let me put a baby in you? Gonna let me knock you up? Huh? Huh?” He pleaded and mumbled into your ear. You nod rapidly in response, mind too numb to find the words. “Such a good girl,” he pulls away from your ear, slowing his pace earing a whine from you, “Such a good slut.” He spreads your ass cheeks again and using the pad of his thumb, starts applying pressure to your asshole. You whimper out of pleasure and can’t help but buck your hips back into him to make him fuck you again. He gently slides his thumb into you with the help of some of his spit and fuck it in and out of your hole. Once he’s satisfied, he picks the pace back up with his hips, wet slapping sounds echoing throughout the room. You’re a moaning mess right now, your legs feel weak and you can feel yourself getting close to an orgasm.

“Cum inside me Miguel,” you cry out, “I want t-to have your babies please!” He’s thrusting at a rate your mind cant keep up with, he’s huffing and grunting and digging his claws into your flesh. every thrust felt like heaven and you could feel a knot forming in your stomach. “Oh god! Right there Miguel! Just like that! Don’t stop!” You start to babble about how much you want his cum in you and how much you love him and need him for the rest of your lives which sends the two of you over the edge. Your walls clench with an orgasm and Miguel’s throbbing cock fills you with a huge load of cum.

The two of you sit there, regaining your composure. Miguel doesn’t pull his cock out of you, wanting to keep his cum in you.

“Did you mean that..?” He asks breathlessly.

“H-Huh?” then it hit you - you definitely told him you loved him. Your cheeks began to burn from embarrassment. “Y-Yes,” you admitted, completely ashamed that you lost control of yourself that badly.

Miguel huffed, amused. “Good.” He pulled himself out of you and you sat up and turned to face him. “I love you too.”

#xreader #smut #fanfic #female reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #across the spiderverse #slight spoilers

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zyettemoon1800 · 1 year

Note

Hi! Can you possibly write a NSFW alphabet fir hobie brown?

Aftercare

He is so loving after y'all are done. He will go run you both a bath while he gets you both something to eat. However, if you don't want to move or eat anything, then he will just get a towel and clean you off, and make you drink a cup of water before going to bed. If you are also a Spiderman/ spider woman he will make some lame excuse to Miguel as to why yall you can't leave the bed.

Body part

On him, he loves his hands and how they grip your plush stomach or thighs or how he can make you messy in under ten minutes.

Cum

Though he loves you and wants to spend the rest of his life with you, he does not want any kids as of right now and he is not a fan of wrapping it up so he will most likely just pull out and cum on your stomach, face, ass, or back. However, if you are on the pill and you don't mind, he will happily cum in you.

Dirty Secret

I can see Hobie as an exhibitionist. He wouldn't mind taking you underneath a table, on top of a skyscraper, or in an alleyway. However, the one place that he wants to do it more than ever is in Miguel's office. Just the thought of Miguel catching yall makes him ready to explode.

Experience

He is not a man-whore however he has had his fair share of bedroom guests.

Favourite Position

Any position that has you on top of him. He hates the idea that women should only be a bottom and will fight anyone when he says that having women on top is even better. He also likes it when you sit on his face. Weight is not a thing he cares about and he wouldn't mind suffocating beneath a fat pussy and some thick thighs.

Goofy

He is not an overly goofy person when you two are having sex. He might crack a few especially if it's your first time and he is just trying to lighten the mood and get you to relax.

Hair

He does not shave and is a firm believer that you should not do it either. The hair is there for a reason so let it be. Now if you wanna trim it or make your bush into some cool shapes, he is all on board. Depending on what shape you are trying to do, he might just do it with you so yall can match.

Intimacy

It is not rare for him to be seen hanging off of you in some way or another. It's not that is jealous or anything, he just loves being by you.

Jack off

If you are not around and he really needs to rub one off then he will jack off. Always if you are not in the mood, then he will take care of himself

Kinks

Slight Daddy Dom kink

Slight Breeding kink

BDSM ( can go both ways)

Cum Play

Pet Play ( on your part)

Food Kink

Location

He usually will just go into your or his room because he knows that it is the safest option. However, he will also do it on top of a random skyscraper or somewhere in the Spider HQ.

Motivation

Just sit on his lap or bend down to pick up something and he is already to through you on the nearest surface.

He is not sharing you with anyone and he will not do anything that you are uncomfortable with or anything too risky

Oral

He is much more into giving than receiving when it comes to orals. He prefers to be buried in you more than anything. However, he wouldn't mind if you gave him a blowjob as a way to get him up in the morning.

Pace

His pace can change from a flip of a coin. Somedays wants to go hard and fast to get rid of any stress that he has, while other times he is soft and sensual.

Quickies

Yes, especially when he should be out on a mission or on patrol

Risk

This man will fuck you in an alleyway by a very busy street and won't stop even if he hears people getting close to yall

Stamina

On a good day he could go maybe three times with ten-minute breaks in between and a round could last for about 20-30 minutes.

Toys

He doesn't mind you using toys on him or on yourself. He is a fan of vibrators and handcuffs.

Unfair

If you are being a brat and just giving him a hard time for no reason then he will edge you for an hour or two and no amount of crying or pleading will make him stop.

Volume

He has always been a vocal person so of course that would extend to the bedroom. He will be in your ear moaning and groaning while calling you a good girl or a slut all depends on what you fancy.

Wildcard

He is known for just throwing you over his shoulder he wants your attention. It doesn't matter who you are talking to.

X-ray

He is about 7 inches soft and 8.5 inches hard. He also has the Jacob's ladder piercing.

Yearning

You really don't have to do much to get him excited, however, he is a sucker for some short shorts or a body con dress. Seeing your curves and rolls just spill over just does something to him.

Zzz…

He doesn't go to sleep directly. He will make sure you are all good and he may play with his guitar for an hour before cuddling up with you.

#hobie brown #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #hobie x reader #chubby reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown x chubby!reader

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rottenpumpkin13 · 3 months

Note

Can we have a running list of weird animals that Seph has adopted and is now the proud mother of?

• Sephiroth was saddened to see that the pigeon nest on the landing of the window outside his office was made of wires, plastic, and other city debris. To help, he began bringing back twigs and leaves from his missions to improve their nest and make it more comfortable. In return, the pigeons brought him shiny items. Like Genesis' expensive new earrings which he refused to give back.

Sephiroth: It's not theft if my friends gifted them to me.

Genesis: The pigeon forcibly attacked me and ripped them from my ears.

Sephiroth: I trained them to do that.

• The tonberry he brought back from a mission because "it looked kind" that ended up terrorizing the Second Class.

• A snake wrapped itself around Sephiroth's arm during a mission and refused to let go. Sephiroth happily brought it back to the tower, still wrapped around his arm, and proudly showed it off.

Sephiroth: Isn't this wonderful? The snake feels comfortable around me and is showing affection.

Angeal: Sephiroth it's biting you.

Sephiroth: Adorable.

Angeal: It sees you as lunch.

Sephiroth: Nonsense it's friendly.

Angeal: Your arm is purple.

Sephiroth: My favorite color.

• An orphaned baby chocobo whose mother died at birth, which Genesis and Angeal had to pry from his arms.

Genesis: Sephiroth, let it go! If the residence floor strictly forbids pets, what do you think their policy is for chocobos??

Sephiroth: But if I don't nurture it and show it some maternal affection, it might grow up harboring resentment and turn to violence, burning things to the ground to feel the warmth it never received.

Genesis: Excuse me!?

Sephiroth: Who said that.

• A frog that latched onto him during a mission to Gongaga. He brought it back to the HQ and Lazard was unimpressed.

Lazard: You're not keeping it.

Sephiroth: Why? What's wrong with this poor, defenseless frog? Is it an unconventional pet? Maybe. Is it any less deserving of a loving home? Absolutely not.

Lazard: You misunderstand me.

*Lazard uses materia to turn the frog back, it turns into Zack*

Zack: :)

Sephiroth: it an unconventional pet? Maybe. Is it any less deserving of a loving home? Absolutely not.

Lazard:

• A rat was seen on the SOLDIER floor one day and everyone struggled to catch it. They set up traps but it was unsuccessful. Time to turn to Sephiroth for help. He never fails a mission.

*Zack opens Sephiroth's office door*

Zack: We need help catching the—

*Sephiroth is bottle-feeding the rat*

Zack: !

• They somehow found a lost joey on a mission one day, and Sephiroth took over, fashioning his coat as a pouch for the kangaroo until they found its mother.

Sephiroth: Well, it doesn't seem like we'll be able to locate the mother kangaroo any time soon. I'll take over as the joey's primary caregiver from now on. It's a difficult decision, but it's the right thing to do.

Angeal: We've only been looking for five minutes.

Sephiroth: I looked for my mother for years before finally accepting that she was dead.

Angeal:

Sephiroth: People die, Angeal.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #zack fair #crisis core

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asratery · 1 year

Text

Miguel O’Hara x Spider-Man!Male Reader

You were a member of the spider society, rising quickly to be part of the small circle of Miguel’s most valued members due to your agility and strength even with your strong, tall stature. You and Miguel had a complicated relationship. At least on his end. The man was curious about your quiet nature and selfless behavior. You were a man of few words, being both a Spider-Man as well as hosting a symbiote from your world. You had a dedication to the cause that could compare with Miguel, even placing it over your physical health. Today, Miguel’s carelessness as well as your lack of self care would hit you like a truck.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

cw: masturbation (male), hand obsession, size diff (mentioned), sexual tension (?), sexual implications, use of y/n

Please give criticism 🙏 this is my first time writing as a whole so I’m so sorry if the format is weird and/or if the summary is ass. ALSO THIS IS REALLY LONG (imo) SO I APOLOGIZE. 😭 And pls tell me if i should make a part two. (edit: okay, i calculated and its 5.2K words lmao... my bad)

You don’t remember the last time you visited HQ or even your own dimension. You’d been traveling to various earths and hunting down located anomalies per Miguel’s order.

Your physical conditions were never a worry to you while on your expeditions, simply stitching up whatever injuries you endured before carrying on. Miguel would protest to this behavior of yours, requesting that you return back to HQ for proper medical attention, but you’d quickly dismiss his precautions, having Venom keep your injuries wrapped under it’s tar-like material to avoid bursting any stitches when you were busy tackling your objectives.

You rarely fully involved Venom in your missions. It never objected to your request to remain tucked away while you worked, understanding that you preferred to rely on your own strength to take down opponents.

Miguel sent you on a new array of missions about two weeks ago. They were rather easy for someone of your skill, though it did get annoying when one enemy turned into two, then three, and so on in just one mission. These hiccups never stunted your performance, but they didn’t fail to stress Miguel out. You didn’t fully understand why the man was so anxious whenever you’d go on your missions. He never showed the same worry for the other members of the Spider Society, so what was so different about you?

Miguel had been spending most of his days in his office since you left, his earpiece being filled with the sounds of battle as you took down anomalies on the other end. You preferred not to speak, but with Miguel’s insistence, you were forced to make some noise for him every so often to ease his nerves, whether it be a grunt or a hum. Depending on your mood, some days you’d find it to be overbearing and on better ones, you’d find it to be almost comforting.

‘What is wrong with me.’ Miguel thought to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He’d been sitting in his office chair, clicking around on his keyboard as he watched your marker on the map traveling miles in minutes as you moved around a random Earth, searching for a rumored anomaly. Everything had been going well until he’d heard you breathing heavily on the other end as you stopped to rest for a moment, you raspy pants tickling his ear. He’d immediately dismissed Lyla as he felt his pants tighten at the noises you made, resting his hand over the forming tent in his suit. Fuck, he had to hear your voice. He needed to.

“Y/n? You alright?” Miguel spoke through the earpiece, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice. Y/n didn’t reply with words, opting to hum in acknowledgement. No, that wasn’t enough for Miguel. “Y/n?” Y/n groaned in annoyance at his insistence, but the noise was like heaven in Miguel’s ear. Much more than what he was requesting. “I’m fine.” Y/n replied curtly before continuing his search, his stationary marker starting to move on the map again.

Miguel’s mind was already wandering when he heard y/n groan, but hearing your voice after radio silence for days? He already had a fantasy forming in his head now. There were too many days where you’d hover over him as he briefed you on an upcoming mission, his mind muddled with ideas of you bending him over the table, ripping his suit open and just fucking him over the surface. “Y/n.” Miguel unintentionally groaned out as he pulled his pants down just enough to release his cock from its confines.

“Hm?” Y/n responded in an undertone, oblivious to the intentions behind Miguel’s voice. Miguel pressed a hand over his mouth. He didn’t mean to call your name aloud. “Y-You’re approaching the signal.” Miguel spoke quickly, his heart fluttering at his slip up. You hummed in acknowledgment, a bit confused on why he had to announce it since he equipped your wristwatch with a mini map, but you dismissed it. Miguel quickly muted his mic on the earpiece to avoid making the same mistake. He looked down at his semi, the cool air making it all the more sensitive.

He dipped one of his hands down, sliding his thumb over the slit of his cock as the other turned the volume up on his earpiece, listening to your heavy breathing as you swung through an abandoned city. “Fuck, please.” Miguel murmured under his breath, his eyes fluttering shut as he slid his hand down his length, imagining your larger, calloused hands in its place.

He had to lower the volume of his earpiece to near silence, the sound of the wind hitting your side of the mic disrupting his thoughts. Miguel lightly gripped his cock, sliding his hand back up to the tip, a bead of pre forming at the motion. Gods, he needed to just tell you, but he knew it wasn’t that simple. You were nearly ten years younger than him, being only 23 years old compared to his 30 years of age. You wouldn’t want someone as old as him, much less a man. You probably had women clinging to your arms in your world, and the thought evoked a flare of jealousy in his chest.

Fuck, what would you think of him if you saw him like this? Thrusting into his hand at just the sound of your voice and faraway fantasies.

You’d been making rounds around this damned city. The place was desolate but somehow a fellow spider managed to spot an anomaly when they accidentally entered in the wrong number in an attempt to portal to their own world. Your wristwatch was picking up on a thermal presence, yet you just couldn’t find it. ‘I swear, if it’s underground, I’m dragging Miguel here to take care of this, multiverse be damned.’ You thought to yourself as you swung between rusting skyscrapers.

Your thoughts were cut off by your watch beeping, detecting a thermal signal in close range. That’s weird. You’d already scoured this area. It must’ve moved in the time that you were on the other side of the city. Your eyes were focused on the watch too closely to notice another presence approaching your side. Another anomaly. Wonderful.

Your senses kicked off but it wasn’t as quick as this creature. You were already airborne before you were launched through the window of a skyscraper you were passing, a rib cracking under the pressure your left side endured. ‘Light work.’ You thought to yourself as you kicked up off the floor of the office level you landed in, planting your feet down before launching out the side you were thrown into. You swung your way up to the roof of the high rise, your eyes scanning the surrounding area for the anomaly.

A figure darted across the street below, prompting you to jump off. You never voiced it, but you always loved the adrenaline rush that came with hunting down anomalies. You were a bit surprised at the lack of noise on Miguel’s side of the earpiece, but the thought was quickly brushed aside as you broke your fall with your webs before running into the building the figure was seen entering, your watch leading the way. You ran down multiple sets of stairs, the rapping of the creatures claws along the tiled floor guiding you along.

You shot a web at the side of the creature from the top of the stairway before it could round a corner. You yanked it towards you, disregarding the fact that your feet lost contact with the floor as the two of you met in the middle, tumbling down the stairwell with your bulky arms wrapped around the damned thing. You were able to land a few punches against the hybrid’s feathered body before you were forced to focus on its talons sinking into the muscles of your thigh. You hissed in pain, forming claws on your own hands with Venom’s help before gripping its ankle with one hand and stabbing your claws into the scaled skin above it.

The fucking thing screeched and gods was it loud, nearly forcing Venom to recede back into you before it used its other clawed foot to hit your chest, slamming your back into the stairwell. You gritted your teeth in pain, a drip of blood dripping down your mask from the cut on your brow due to the previous fall. The creature rounded the corner immediately, disappearing from your sight. ‘Of course it’s smart.’ You thought to yourself begrudgingly, your muscles a bit tense from the mission you just pursued prior to entering this world. “Miguel.” You spoke into your mic. No response. No time to wait.

You quickly got to your feet before darting around the corner, suddenly realizing the setting. Of course it lured you to a fucking subway. You were quick on your feet, jumping down to the railway platform before darting down the tunnel, your sharp ears picking up on the sound of the creature’s claws scratching against the metal of the railing as it ran from you. You’d ran so far that you made it to another underground subway stop, spotting a new creature lingering in the area.

‘Here’s the second fucker.’ You thought to yourself as Venom reformed claws around your fingers. You jumped from the railway up to the tiled floor of the platform. The creature spotted you, quickly leaping at you as you returned the gesture. You noted the difference in strength in this one compared to the first anomaly you came across, easily overpowering this one. Just when you were about to sink your claws into its neck, you were launched off to the side, slamming into a solid wall behind you. Another rib cracked at the impact. Wonderful.

The first bastard was back. The two creatures stood side by side as you used the wall as support to rise to your feet. The two freaks of nature stalked around you before launching forward.

“Venom.” You growled out. It didn’t hesitate, enveloping your body in its black tar-like body. You immediately threw the stronger one back, sending it over the platform and onto the railway as you focused your attention on the weaker anomaly.

You were able to land a multitude of hits on this one, weakening it. Just when you were about to stab your claws into its chest, the stronger one recuperated, releasing a deafening scream that incapacitated you, forcing Venom to recede back inside you. The ground shook from the scream, the beams at the subway shaking as dust fell from the ceiling.

‘Fuck, I need to focus on that one or this rusty building is going down on all three of us.’

You were alone now, the scream forcing Venom to retreat. You made circles with the creature, the weaker of the two still recovering on the floor. You made the first move, webbing the feet of the anomaly to the floor before landing a kick straight in its chest.

The creature slammed against another beam. Fuck. Bad move. The ceiling shook again, an unsettling sound of creaking above them. The building was going to collapse at this rate. You needed to keep these two down here while getting back to ground level so you wouldn’t get stuck or worse, killed under the rubble.

“Miguel.” Silence. What the fuck was he doing right now? Just when you were about to approach the now weakened anomaly, you felt the muscle in your thigh tense. You dropped one knee, accidentally slamming it against the tiled floor. You gritted your teeth, the muscle cramping from overworking yourself. Miguel had warned you, and now you were experiencing the outcome. In the midst of Venom attempting to reform around you, you were tackled from behind. The second one was back up.

You swung your now clawed fingers back, moving to plunge your hand into the chest of this anomaly. You were cut short as the other let out another ear-piercing screech, forcing Venom to retreat yet again. The entire bottom level shook now. ‘This building’s going down.’ You thought to yourself. “Miguel,” you shouted into the earpiece, “I need backup, I’m under the apartment buildi—,” your words were cut short as the infrastructure gave out, sending you into darkness.

Miguel was in the midst of cleaning himself up when he heard the low sound of a rumble on the other side of his earpiece. He immediately raised the volume on his earpiece. ‘Shit, shit shit,’ he though to himself, ‘I wasn’t paying attention.’ “Y/n, what’s your status?” Miguel quickly spoke into the mic, turning Lyla back on. Lyla’s hologram reappeared, about to crack a joke before noticing Miguel’s panicked expression as he looked at his monitors, rapidly typing on the keyboard. “Shit—Lyla, call Jess and Hobie to HQ now,” he said quickly before shouting into the earpiece, “Y/n, give me a status update!” Silence. A deadly silence that was interrupted a few minutes later by the sound of a weak wheeze. Y/n.

“Fuck, y/n, what’s your status?” Miguel spoke quickly into his earpiece as he connected the audio to a walkie-talkie. Jessica entered Miguel’s office, Hobie following a few feet behind her. You couldn’t get a word out, a piece of rubble pressing against your torso, cutting your breaths short. Another weak wheeze, this time coming from the walkie. Jessica froze at the noise before quickly swinging up to Miguel’s platform. “Who is that? Is that—Don’t tell me that’s y/n.” She said quickly. Hobie was already analyzing the holographic map on Miguel’s desk, typing the coordinates for your marker into his wristwatch before creating a portal. “Let’s go.”

You let out another weak wheeze, groaning in pain when the rubble shifted. Your right ankle was stinging, likely sprained, and your knee cap fractured from it hitting the tiled floor prior to the collapse. Your side felt wet and the rebar poking out of a chunk of concrete next to you easily explained why. The screech from the anomaly must’ve ruptured an eardrum, since you could feel the ticklish trickle of blood leaking out of your ear. Your earpiece was knocked out, hidden somewhere in the rubble that pinned you down as you heard the distant sound of Miguel’s panicked voice coming from it. ‘Wonderful timing, boss.’ You thought to yourself as you let out a pained coughed, your throat coated in dust. Your vision started to fade in the midst of you trying to count how many fractures your ribs incurred.

The trio wasn't enough to get you out of the rubble, having to call over a dozen other spider people to aid in the search for you. The only thing keeping Miguel’s hopes up was the presence of a pulse that your wristwatch was picking up, Lyla closely monitoring it for any changes as per Miguel’s orders. He could feel his heart cracking at the edges at the sight of a few spider people gently pulling your unconscious body from under the rubble. They immediately applied pressure to your side due to a large gash from a piece of rebar as Miguel quickly opened a portal back to HQ, rushing you to the medical wing of the building.

Your eyes were hazy when you opened them, taking a few moments to adjust to the bright hospital lights, though the dizziness stayed. You reached a hand up to the nasal cannula, taking note of the tug from the IV in your arm. An IV. A cannula. Bright lights. You hated hospitals with a passion. You shot up in the bed, your body wracked with pain from both a terrible concussion as well as the broken ribs. Strong hands firmly gripped your shoulders, gently guiding you to lay back down on the bed as a soothing voice murmured to you, though you couldn't make out the words. You complied, reluctantly, though majorly because you didn't have the strength to protest.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you focused on a breathing technique to try and ease some of the pain from your array of broken and fractured ribs, though the pain was still agonizing even when you inhaled. Thank god for your pain tolerance, or this could be a lot more unbearable than it already is. You could faintly hear Miguel's unintelligible voice, but he kept a low tone to accomodate your ruptured eardrum. You felt soft fingers stroking the top of your left hand. Jess. She was on your left, Miguel on your right. You could feel a weight on your left leg. Pavitr. Gods, the boy looked up to you like you were an older brother to him. You couldn't imagine how stressed he must be to see you in this state.

You opened your eyes again after about ten minutes, slowly blinking as you let your eyes adjust to the harsh lighting above you. After you finally gained a good enough level of clarity, your sharp eyes began darting around the room, grabbing every little detail you could pick up without tilting your concussed head. You made eye contact with Jessica, who was tracing soft patterns into your forearm as she looked at you, a soft look in her eyes. She was like an older sister to you in a way, and even though you never acknowledged this, she knew.

Your eyes shifted over to Pavitr, who was sat in a chair closer to the end of the bed, practically hugging the lower half of your left leg. You had a brace around your right ankle and could feel the tight gauze wrapped around your thigh, hidden under the blankets. Your abdomen felt very snug, being tightly wrapped in gauze as well due to what you assumed was that wet feeling on your side from when you were under the rubble. The cut on your brow had a stitch and your lip was busted.

You could feel the tickle of Miguels breath against your upper arm, but you never looked over at him. His left hand was gripping your thick tricep like a lifeline while his right remained intertwined with yours. You refused to look at the man, and rightfully so. Had he been paying attention instead of getting distracted by god knows what, you wouldn't be in this uncomfortable situation. "Summary?" You asked Jessica in a raspy voice, your eyes were half-lidded as they focused on Pavitr's sleeping figure.

Miguel answered for Jessica. It ticked you off. You didn't want to hear his voice right now. "Sprained ankle, laceration in your right side, two fractured ribs, three broken, grade three concussion, gash in your right thigh, fractured knee cap, and a few cuts and bruises," Miguel replied quickly, "your lung collapsed, so you had a chest tube in but it was removed yesterday morning." You had a question on the tip of your tongue, but you knew Miguel would answer it before Jess could. "You've been out for six days." Miguel murmured, unknowingly answering said question. "We were worried sick." Bullshit. You had to resist the urge to say it aloud. This wouldn't have happened had he been paying attention and heard at least one of your three call outs.

Jess could see the anger flickering in your narrowed eyes as you focused on Pavitr again in an attempt to calm your nerves. She could feel your fingers twitching against her hand as you took quiet breaths. She was sure Miguel could feel the motions in your fingers too, since the man had his hand tightly threaded with yours. You didn’t have energy to be angry right now. You could feel a wave of exhaustion coming over you, making your eyelids heavier than they already were. You succumbed to the feeling, your eyes slowly shutting.

‘He didn’t even look at me.’ Was a repetitive thought in Miguel’s head over the next few weeks. He took notice in that behavior. How could he not? He didn’t blame you, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a flicker of jealousy when he saw you and your goddamn face on the cameras and how you looked at all the spider people who visited you with kindness. You even gave little smiles to a few with that pretty face of yours—Fuck, he needed to talk about that.

Miguel didn’t get too many chances to visit you throughout the weeks and when he did manage to, you were already asleep by the time he got there. He’d pull a chair next to your bed, staring at you in ways he didn’t could only dream of compared to when you were awake. He'd spend a few hours every other night just… analyzing you. Counting every vein that traveled up your forearm, staring at the thick lashes on your lower waterline, the broad chest that peeked out of your hospital shirt—Gods, how could you be equal parts pretty and handsome?

Tonight was the same routine, Miguel had snuck into the medical wing way past visiting hours, slinking into your hospital room. He stood in the doorway, listening to the quiet whistling sound your nose made when you inhaled as confirmation that you were asleep. He stepped in, sliding the door shut behind him before grabbing a chair at the entry, picking it up and gently setting it on the floor at your bedside.

He took a seat before pulling a small metal object from his pocket. A nail clipper. Miguel had noticed that your nails had gained a bit of length, not much, but enough for him to notice. Definitely not because he wanted a reason to touch your hands. He carefully sat himself on the edge of your hospital bed before gently lifting your hand that still had an IV in it.

The horny bastard nearly moaned at how heavy your hand felt in his. How were you so strong? You barely had free time to work out with how often you were hunting anomalies and there was no way chasing those guys alone would be enough, right? He carefully set your hand on his thigh, the warmth emitting from you causing a smile to spread across his face. Gods, this felt wrong.

The room was silent besides the occasional clicking noise of the nail clipper as he worked through your first hand, making sure to carefully round the edges of your nails. Your hands were so nice, saliva pooling in Miguel’s mouth that he had to swallow down as he ran the pads of his fingers over every vein that traveled up the top of your hand. His mind was wandering and god your fingers were thick. The thoughts came before he could stop them, imagining you sliding your heavy digits into his mouth, coating them in his saliva before sliding them inside him one by one—

Miguel leaned over you, gently lifting your untreated hand to rest in his before he began repeating the same ministrations he gave to the first. The closer proximity made the scent of you in his nose even stronger. Your musk was a bit of everything: comforting, arousing, warm, familiar. If he could have it as a cologne, he would. ‘Fuck, is something wrong with me?’ Miguel thought to himself as he leaned towards you, his nose inching closer to the pulse in your neck.

He couldn’t help himself, gently laying your hand back in its original position before dipping down, pressing his nose against the delicate skin of your neck. ‘Something’s wrong with me.’ He inhaled deeply, having to suppress a moan in his throat at the smell of you. He planted his hands next to your hips. Oh my god, speaking of which, your hips just seemed to move so fluidly with you when you walked. It wasn’t like you were just blatantly swaying them, but Miguel noticed the way they seemed to rise and lower in sync with your bulky thighs as you moved around his office.

‘You’re tempting me on purpose, you have to be.’ Miguel thought to himself as he indulged further, letting the tip of his cold nose press against the side of your throat as he breathed you in. ‘I’ve never acted like this about anyone in my life before. Why’re you so easy to obsess over?’ Miguel found himself watching the medical wing’s security cameras in his time, watching as you walked in the hall with Jess, using the wall as a slight support. You looked like a leviathan in the hallway, your tall, broad stature taking up a large portion of the hall and dwarfing Jessica. You had no idea how arousing just the sight of you was.

Miguel’s thoughts were cut off by the feeling of your firm, calloused hands wrapping around his waist, spreading your warmth to those areas. Miguel nearly choked on his breath, absolutely refusing to meet your gaze right now. He couldn’t look you in the eyes. God no. You just caught him in the fucking act.

Miguel kept his head tucked under your chin, a warm feeling coiling in his gut at the realization that your hands wrapped nearly entirely around his waist. How the hell was that even possible? The man was 6’9 yet you managed to make him feel small. How were you even possible? Oh my god, he couldn’t even imagine the view you’d get if you were to wrap those hands around his waist, keeping him in place as you pounded into hi—

“Miguel.”

You felt your hand twitch at the feeling of something cold brushing against your neck. A nurse? Or maybe just a nip of the cold breeze that carried throughout the wing? Nope. ‘Y/n.’ You weren’t thinking that. Why would you repeat your own name? Oh right, you aren’t alone in your body. ‘Venom?’ There was a moment of silence in your conscious. ‘That… man is here again. The human. The weird one.’ ‘Miguel?’ A beat of silence yet again. Venom didn’t like saying the man’s name, preferring to lightheartedly insult him when describing him. You’d always brushed off Venom’s insistence that Miguel had a thing for you. ‘He’s touching you. Again.’ It’s voice was a hiss. ‘What?’

You woke up before you could get a response, your eyes quickly adjusting to the dark room, Miguel’s sturdy figure illuminated by the moonlight peeking into the room. You could feel him twitch and his breath catch when you wrapped your hands around his noticeably narrow waist. Why you chose his waist, you didn’t know, the motion being almost instinctual. You could tell he didn’t want to look at you. How could he, when you just caught him practically burying his face into your neck? You had to break the silence, as much as you hated speaking.

“Miguel.”

Silence in response to your husky voice. You slid your hands up his waist, gripping the sides of his chest before pulling him away, taking note of how your thumbs pressed into the plump edges of his pecs. Miguel’s eyes were trained on your neck as his hands rested against the large muscle of your shoulders. His face was red. So red. This wasn’t Miguel. This didn’t look like the man who so easily scolded others and had a resting bitch face for hours on end. Or at least it didn’t look like it.

“Miguel.”

Your voice was a lot firmer this time, catching Miguel’s full attention as he slowly looked up at you, an innocent look in his eyes. Who was this? Surely this wasn’t the leader of the Spider Society in your hospital room. Who was this little minx that slinked into your room while you were unconscious? “Explain yourself.” You wanted to say more, but the soreness of your throat said otherwise. “I-I was cutting your nails.” Miguel’s voice was shaky. You never heard the man like this before. “And?” You asked inquisitively. He was silent, his eyes darting between each of your sharper ones. “And I was… checking your pulse…?” Miguel’s voice was nearly silent now, an obvious hesitation in his voice.

“You’re a wonderful liar, boss.” You stared him down, your piercing gaze practically demanding an answer. “I was smelling you.” He whispered it so quietly, you almost didn’t pick it up with your still recovering eardrum. “Why?” “Because… because I missed you.” Miguel’s voice was a murmur. Missed you? Why the hell did he miss you? “You wouldn’t miss me if you had been paying attention.” You had to address the elephant in the room.

“Y/n—” “No. Explain to me. Because I called out to you thrice and I got zero response.” Not now, not yet. Miguel wanted this conversation to wait till you were fully recovered. His eyes darted to the door he came in through, but you quickly caught on, sliding your hands down to his waist again and tightening your grip. Oh fuck, Miguel had to suppress a whimper at the feeling. “I-I was busy with Lyla and—” “It’s an earpiece. You would’ve heard me. Meaning you either removed it or muted it. Explain why.” “Y/n, please, you should really just—” “What were you doing that was so important?”

Miguel’s mind was reeling. A part of him wanted to run from this conversation but the other was loving the sound of your voice and the feel of your firm grip on his waist. “Y-You should just go back to be—” “Shut up.” Gods, you had an authority in your voice that silenced him immediately. The feeling of your firm finger wrapped around his waist had him tensing his arms, pleading with his body to send the rushing heat elsewhere.

“Miguel. I will tell Lyla to pull up the cameras in your office myself. Or I’ll send Venom to.”

There was no running from this. No way in hell. “I-I was touching myself.” There. It was out now. He said it. Were you happy? Who knows, cause Miguel screwed his eyes shut the moment he said it. “Touching yourself…” Your voice was lower, and had a hint of anger and confusion in it. “Yes.” Miguel practically gasped out the word, his face flaming in his embarrassment. He’d rather just tell the man then have him watch it himself on the cameras. “You expect me to believe that? That you were touching yourself? We were talking and then suddenly you went radio si—…Miguel.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. You connected the dots. Miguel wanted to crawl into a hole.

“Explain it. Now.” Miguel was quick in his response. “Y-You were breathing, and every fucking piece of audio was picked up, and-and I felt this heat in me. And then you groaned and I just—I just…” Your grip tightened around his waist again and Miguel couldn’t help it, letting out a soft whimper at your touch. “You couldn’t help yourself.” You murmured. Miguel nodded his head in shame, opening his eyes again, though they remain focused on your neck again.

“Miguel.” His eyes snapped up to yours, an unmistakable heat in your husky voice. “Go lock the door.”

Miguel stood so quickly that the chair next to your bed nearly got knocked over.

So… are we feeling a part two? 😏 or was this ass? Cause I’ll stop rn. Lmao.

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #male reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x male reader #x male reader #miguel o'hara x male reader #sub miguel o'hara #dom male reader

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drabblesandimagines · 11 months

Text

Dove

Leon Kennedy x fem reader Thinking of making this a little series, will be a fluff, bit of a slow burn, bodyguard trope?

You aren’t sure how you’d got through the last few hours. Everything’s a blur as you try to think back of the horror that had occurred, now you’re now sat in an unfamiliar chair in an unfamiliar office. Your right arm is in a sling, shoulder throbbing somewhat from a reset dislocation, broken fingers splintered together on the same arm, medical tape holding a wound closed on your temple, disinfectant swiped across the numerous scrapes, your body aching with developing bruises on your legs, poking out from under your dress, from the fall down the stairs – the fall that apparently ended up saving your life from the unearthly creature that had rampaged through your workplace and tore your co-workers apart.

After being treated by a DSO medic, you’d been escorted by a tall, armed to the gills, annoyingly silent man. He’d confiscated your phone, despite the fact the screen was smashed and wouldn’t turn on, and taken you across the city to the main HQ, ushered up a side entrance into the room you now sat, told you to wait, and left you alone for what felt like hours.

The door eventually opens and a smartly dressed, pretty woman, hair pinned up in a bun and wearing glasses enters, immediately heading to the other side of the desk and taking what you assumed was her seat. A handsome man accompanied her, shaggy brown hair, dressed in cargo pants, fingerless gloves, knife strapped to his thigh, finished off with a leather jacket, a holster poking out from underneath. He gives you a sympathetic once over as he sits down besides you, careful not to brush your knee with his own as he does. Considerate.

“Were you given adequate pain medication?” The lady asks abruptly, beginning to type on her keyboard.

You stare at her a moment – she’s all business. “Er… Yeah. Thanks.” Though you’re sure the two of them have noticed the wince as you shuffled in your seat. The medic had offered you stronger stuff but you’d declined, wanting to keep your wits about you. “Sorry, what’s happening now?”

“I’m Ingrid Hunnigan, this is Agent Kennedy.” She nods to the man opposite her.

“Name’s Leon.” The man besides you offers his hand and you notice he’s adapted for your incapacitated arm, in what will surely result in a very awkward handshake but the gesture is nice. You take it, hoping the tremor in your grip isn’t so painfully obvious. “Hi. Erm, I’m-”

“Dove.” Hunnigan cuts you off. “I am aware of your identity, but we will be referring to you as Dove.”

“It’s a codename.” Leon explains, a little less business. “For your safety.”

Hunnigan pauses in her typing, hitting backspace slowly as she replies. “Agent Kennedy will be your protection detail until we get this mess squared up.”

Your breath catches in your throat at her choice of word, a sick feeling twisting in your stomach. “Mess? It was a massacre in there-”

“I know. We know.” The agent besides you stresses. “I’m sorry you had to see all that.”

“Am I the only one who…?” You don’t know why you ask.

“I’m afraid so.” Hunnigan replies, a little softer in tone. “We’re going to send you to a safe house. Agent Kennedy will stay with you.”

“O-okay.” You nod, not taking it all in. “You… You think they’d send whatever that thing was after me?”

“That’s what we need time to establish.” Hunnigan replies. “From the CCTV, after the attack, there was a breach on the database. We need to establish how much data they managed to extract, if any. Agent Kennedy will keep you updated as much as he can when he receives any intel.” She turns more to him then, cutting you out of the conversation. “I’ll send the co-ordinates of the safe house when you’re out of the city. They’re loading up an SUV with supplies for at least a week. If it goes on longer, we’ll arrange a supply drop via another location.”

“That long?” You feel like you’re interrupting.

“Worse case scenario, Dove.” Leon offers you a smile. “I’m sure we’ll have you back home in no time. Did they send you away with any meds?”

“The medic sent in a report – with a treatment plan. It’s in the information pack, prescribed medicine is in with the supplies. Again, enough for a week.” Hunnigan replies. “I’ve arranged clothes too – medic guessed your size for me. We’ll be keeping your phone for now.”

“Why?”

“We can’t allow you to contact anyone – for your safety and theirs.”

Your heart skips a beat at that comment. “Wait… You think I might be behind this, don’t you?”

Hunnigan purses her lips. “It is an avenue we need to explore. There are questions as to why you alone survived. We will be dispatching a team to your residence once the two of you are out of the city to help in our investigation.”

“Again, that’s just protocol.” Leon tries to reassure, but your mind is whirling. “No-one is accusing you of anything, Dove.”

“I… I’ve worked here for years, I passed all the clearance checks. I wouldn’t, I didn’t…”

“As Agent Kennedy said, it’s just protocol. If you have nothing to hide, there is nothing to fear.” Hunnigan resumes tapping away at the keyboard as she talks, pausing as the computer emits a ping. “SUV’s ready. I suggest you two go.”

Leon gets to his feet, once more offering his hand to help you to yours. He smiles, sympathetically, as he takes in your appearance – your face has lost what little colour it had.

“Time to go, Dove. It’ll be all right.”

You want to say no, you feel like you need to stay to plead your innocence, but you catch sight of the gun holstered by his side and the flame of defiance is extinguished. You take his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. He places his hand on the small of your back to guide you back through the door and you can’t work out if it should feel like comfort or a threat.

You felt numb as Leon had escorted you to a large SUV with blacked out windows in an empty carpark. He’d opened the door for you, helped you climb in before hesitating.

“Need a hand with your seatbelt?”

You stare at him for a moment too long.

“Because of your arm, I mean.”

“Oh. Please.”

He leans over you, grabbing the seatbelt and clicking it into place.

“Right. Comfy?”

“Yeah.” You swallow. “Thanks.”

He nods, closes the door behind him – softly, you note, rather than a slam and it’s then you realise that you also can’t see out the windows. He hops up into the front, buckles his own seatbelt and starts the engine, swinging the SUV out of the parking space with ease. You can’t really see anything from where you’re sat, bar the back of his head and it must be deliberate.

“Hopefully it’s not too long of a drive.” He comments. “Had one that was a twelve hours’ away once and we are not allowed to stop for bathroom breaks.”

“Are you allowed to tell me how far away it is when you know?”

“Don’t see why not. Hunnigan will ping it through once we’re clear enough.”

It’s hard to tell how much time has passed when, eventually, the promised ping echoes around the car. You can hear him tap his fingers against something and he hums to himself.

“We’re in luck – about two hours away, Dove. Want some music on? Don’t have any CDs but got the radio.”

Maybe the music will help drown out how loud your heart is thudding in your ears. ”Yeah, sure.”

He fiddles with the dial – sound crackling around the car before it settles on some acoustic tune you don’t recognize. Must be some easy listening station.

“You can nap, if you like.”

“Maybe.” Though you’re not sure how you’ll ever sleep again after today.

The rest of the drive passes in silence, apart from the sound of the radio. You close your eyes a few times, leaning your head back against the seat but the creature seems burned into your retinas, haunting your vision.

“This is us.” Leon breaks the silence as you feel the car turn and he reduces the speed. He switches off the car and unclicks his seatbelt, turning back to face you. “Wait there just a moment, okay?”

“Yeah.”

He smiles, opens his door and hops out, again closing the door softly behind him. What must be a few minutes later, your door opens and he once again offers his hand.

“Ready?

You unclip your seatbelt with your good hand before accepting his outstretched one, helping you step down from the SUV. You’re in a garage now of some sort – spacious enough to fit the car and what looks to be a chest freezer, washer and tumble dryer - the whole room illuminated by an orange bulb.

“So, we said safe house – seems more like a safe bungalow to me. I’ll give you the tour.” He gestures forward towards an open door and you walk forward, once again his hand falling to the small of your back. It leads through to a modest sized kitchen – usual white appliances and opens out into a living room with two couches, a coffee table and an entertainment unit with a television. There are two more doors along the wall, but what really strikes you is how small the windows all are, covered in thick panes of glass.

Bulletproof, you wonder.

“Bathroom’s this one,” he opens the door in demonstration, revealing a typical bathroom, before moving along. “And the bedroom.” It has a double bed, white linen sheets, a wardrobe and dresser. “Your bedroom,” he corrects. “I’ll be on the couch.”

“Oh. Is that comfortable?”

He smiles at your concern. “I’m pretty good at sleeping anywhere, but it looks comfortable enough. Speaking of, it’s pretty late so I think we should call it a night.” He ducks into the bathroom, pulling out a washbag from under the sink and empties the contents on the counter. “Standard toiletries kit to start us off. I’m gonna start bringing in the supplies. Sound good?”

You nod and he heads back towards the garage. You kick off your shoes before you step into the bathroom and close the door, twisting the lock closed. You use the facilities with some difficulty, your first visit since being an arm down, though thankful to be in a dress so as not to battle with trousers. After what some might call a best attempt of washing your hand, you pick up the toothbrush and immediately put it back down in annoyance as you realise you’ll need to deal with the toothpaste first. Thankful for the flip cap, the tube slips from your grip as you squeeze, shooting across the counter and knocking a glass off the counter, sending it smashing to the floor.

“Fu-” The word doesn’t even make it out of your mouth when the door is broken open, slammed against the wall and Leon is stood there, gun raised as you scream.

He scans the room with his eyes, concedes it’s clear and lowers his gun. “What happened? You okay?”

“I… I d-dropped the t-t-toothpaste and smashed the g-glass and…” Your breath catches in your throat again, tears burning in your eyes.

“Hey,” he holsters the gun on his thigh. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay. Sorry for scaring you. I thought there was a window in here.”

He looks down at the broken glass that’s exploded over the floor and your sock-clad feet. “Sit down, all right? I’ll clear this up.”

“No, I s-should-”

“I can do it. Just sit, please. I’ll go grab a dustpan – they have one. Not my first safe house.” He soothes, heading off into the kitchen cupboards in search of it.

You sit down on the closed toilet seat lid and wonder bitterly if he’s at more safe houses than his own home. You take the moment to try and settle your breathing, your heart still pounding.

Leon appears at the door once more, grinning as he holds the dustpan and brush aloft in triumph. “Found it.” He crouches down, beginning to sweep up the glass. You watch in silence as he tackles the floor methodically, making sure to brush along each square of bathroom tile until he seems satisfied with his work.

“There. All done.” He places it to the side and grabs the troublesome toothpaste tube, before standing up to his full height. “So, this was the culprit, huh?”

You nod. “I don’t know what happened - the only difference was the toothbrush being on the counter, so I should be able to do it, just-”

He picks up the toothbrush and squeezes a blob of toothpaste on it. “On the house.” Leon jokes, offering it back to you. You stand up and accept it, hesitantly.

“I kinda feel pathetic.” You admit.

“Dove…” You’re getting a little used to the name now. It sounds nice off his tongue – soft and sweet. “You’ve had a shitty day, give yourself a break.”

“No, I mean, it just feels like you’re my servant or something – sweeping up, squeezing out my toothpaste...”

“To protect and serve’s the motto.” He smiles at your confused look. “I was a cop before I was an agent.”

“And this is the stuff you did as a cop?”

“Yes, alongside the helping old ladies with their groceries, helping ducks cross the street…” He teases, before nodding at the toothbrush in your hand. “I’ll leave you to it.”

After brushing your teeth without further incident and taking a few more moments to compose yourself, you exit the bathroom. Leon’s stood at the kitchen counter, paper bag in hand, looking at pill packets. There’s a couple of duffel bags near the garage door, one unzipped.

“Medical notes say it’s painkiller time, I’m afraid.” He grabs a glass from the cupboard, fills it up with water from the tap and places it down besides two white pills. “They’ve given you some sleeping tablets as well, but that’s up to you.”

“Do they stop you dreaming?”

Leon grimaces at your question. “From personal experience, yeah. No dreams.”

You hold out your hand. “Then I’ll take them.”

He nods, shaking another two pills out of a bottle and into his hand, picking up the other two and drops them in your hand. You open your mouth and throw them in, before accepting the glass of water, swallowing it all down.

“So, er, this is gonna be a little bit awkward, but I don’t know what you prefer to sleep in, obviously, but I’m assuming not that.”

“Oh. Yeah, no.”

“So, I pulled out a couple of things.” He nods towards the bedroom, where you can see some items of clothing laying out on the bed. He’s turned the bedside lamp on, the room softly illuminated in a white glow.

“You really are a safe house pro.”

“Ha, yeah.” He grins, rubbing the back of his head. “I guess my question is, do you need a hand with changing? 100% respectful offer, obviously.”

You nod. “Please.”

“Okay. After you.”

You walk into the bedroom, Leon keeping his distance this time. There’s an oversized t-shirt in the pile, looks like it will reach your knees. You pick it up with your good hand, clutching it close to your chest and turn to face him.

“Can you help with the sling?”

“Yep.” He nods – professional, unstrapping it with ease and removing it gently. “Afraid medic says you need to sleep with the sling for a week.”

“Mm.” You nod, hanging your arm down loose before turning around. “I guess if you could unzip and I’ll…”

“Got it.” He tugs down the zipper of your dress slowly – if it was some other encounter you’d say he was being a tease. He stops as he reaches the small of your back, just above your underwear. “What can I do now?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, but there’s no getting around it now. “Any good at undoing a bra? Professionally.”

“Professionally, yep.” You feel gentle fingers deftly unclasp it with ease.

“I think I’ve got it from now until the sling needs back on, so-”

“Say no more. Just call when you’re ready.”

The door closes behind you and you exhale, trying to compose yourself. It’s more months since a man had helped you out of a dress and this, after everything today and the situation you’re in, unsure if he sees you as victim or villain, shouldn’t be making you feel flustered.

Gingerly, you slip one arm out of the dress, followed by the other, wincing as you do so and allowing it to pool down at your feet. Next comes your bra, and then you gently pull the t-shirt over your head, again flinching as your shoulder smarts.

Decent, or decent enough, you call out. “Leon? I’m ready.”

“Coming in.” He announces, pausing a moment before opening the door and immediately moves to pick up the sling from where he placed it on the bed. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

With practiced hands, he positions your arm into the sling, adjusting it carefully and fastening it in place once more. “There. Feel okay?”

“Yeah.” You look him in the eyes then – beautiful, blue eyes, before fighting back a yawn. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiles. “That will be the sleeping pills kicking in. I forgot to mention they’re real heavy duty.”

“Mm.” You sit down on the bed then, a little too heavily, before picking up your discarded dress on the floor. “Could you bin this?”

“Of course.” He takes it from you, no question. “Anything else I can do?”

��No. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to keep thanking me, Dove. It’s all right – I told you, part of the job.”

“Still, thank you.” You mumble, head feeling heavy.

“Here,” he pulls back the covers as you scooch yourself back and lean your head back on the pillow, tucking the duvet in over you. “Arm still okay?”

You nod, looking up at him with bleary eyes.

“I swear what happened wasn’t anything to do with me. I swear.”

“Shh,” Leon hushes. “I know.” He feels it in his gut, felt it since the moment he lay eyes on you in Hunnigan’s office. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll hear some updates. But, for now, just sleep. Okay, Dove?”

“Sleep, okay…” You mumble, closing your eyes.

Leon hovers a moment, noting the change in your breathing as the sleeping pills pull you under. He turns off the bedside lamp and leaves the bedroom, quietly, your dress clutched in his hand. He places it in the kitchen bin – there’s an incinerator round the back to erase all trace of their visit, but he’ll do that in the morning.

He makes his way over to the sofa and lies down, not even bothering to remove his boots.

He won’t be sleeping tonight.

-- Do let me know if you'd be interested in a part two! x EDIT: Part two!

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x female reader

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fiapartridge · 7 months

Text

bye ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ | jack hughes

“maybe someday we'll look back with love.”

☼ pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

☼ summary: feeling down, an ad for lacuna inc. makes its way to your doorstep, prompting you to travel to new york city and erase your memory of the one thing that's hurting you...

☼ fia’s note 💌: eee i love this song! this album is 100% a no-skip album! again, thx for joining us on this 13-part-series <3 pls enjoy “bye” ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

eternal sunshine hq ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

prev part: intro (end of the world) ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

*₊ ° .　. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

He still lingered around your house. Memories of you two slow dancing in the kitchen, sitting on countertops as he stands between your legs, dolloping whip cream on your nose as you laughed like it was the funniest thing on the planet. Honestly, to you, it was the funniest thing on the planet. You two lived in your own world; on your own planet. Everyone saw it that way, and for while, you did too.

You had been meaning to ship his belongings back to him: the red and black Devils sweatshirts piled on your dresser, the teddy bear he won you during your trip to Coney Island, the cologne he left on your desk in case you missed him while he was on a road trip. You couldn’t stay in your apartment anymore. Every time you came back to the beige walls of your small home, you were greeted with reminders of Jack. And it stung every single time.

Collecting his items from around your apartment, you stuffed them into a white cardboard box. You didn’t know what you would do with it. Maybe you could ding dong ditch Jack and just leave the items at his doorstep, or maybe you could burn it somewhere with your best friend, Courtney. Upon deciding your next step, a slip of paper slid underneath your door.

You stood there for a moment, watching the paper sit in its place, its words tucked to the underbelly of the pamphlet. Walking over, you cautiously kneeled down and turned the sheet over.

“Lacuna, inc.

They say time heals all wounds, but the hardest part about dealing with a wound in your past is not the pain, or having to relive it again and again. The hardest part is that it makes you question who you are. Don’t let the memory define you. Erase it. Start anew. Reinvent yourself without the lingering thought of them in your mind, and the prospect of questioning your abilities in the future.

Visit Lacuna, inc. at 210 E Grand St. New York, NY 10019. Call us at +1 (917) 964 - 3205.

Become yourself again.”

It felt stupid, right? Erasing the memory of Jack Hughes and your relationship with him from your entire memory? It felt extreme and dangerous—highly unlike you. But that was the thing that broke the camel’s back in the first place. You couldn’t be what Jack wanted you to be. You couldn’t be spontaneous and take risks and be dangerous. Maybe it was time to start? Because for the past two months, you felt this unbearable ache in your chest and you were tired of feeling it. You were tired of wondering if you were enough, or if you could ever be happy again.

This could fix that. It could fix everything. It could fix you.

Which was why you found yourself in the driver's seat of your car, your collection of items that reminded you of Jack in the passenger seat beside you, and your GPS pulled up with the location of Lacuna, inc. in New York City.

You were going to become yourself again.

*₊ ° .　. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The waiting room was small: uncomfy chairs lining the perimeter of the room, a table in the center with research about lacunar amnesia and the safety of the practice, and ugly overhead lighting that made you feel like you were little again, waiting nervously at the doctor’s office.

A brown clipboard laid on your thighs with a waiver, asking you if you really wanted to do it. There was no going back. There was no regaining the memory of Jack Hughes after the procedure. Once it was gone, it was gone— for good. No more Jack.

You could move on—the same way it looked like he already had.

“You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give “Lacuna, inc.” exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your mind: Yes or No”

With a shaky breath, you checkmarked: Yes.

A couple minutes later, your name was called by one of the nurses and you were carrying your box of Jack’s things into the procedure room. They took the box from your hands, laying it on a table with big machinery and lasers. This whole thing felt foreign to you, but you were ready.

Sitting down in a chair at the center of the room, they strapped patches to your temples as you sat with your hands intertwined in your lap. Your heartbeat raced on the monitor beside you as you closed your eyes, letting the memories take you for the last time.

“Marry me,” Jack blurted as you laid in his arms on the sofa of his apartment. He could feel you tense up. He could feel your breath stutter and you rise from your position.

“What?” you asked, unsure if you had heard him correctly. You started dating Jack when you were 20. You had a year left of college, he was already playing in the NHL, and you had never met anyone quite like him. He was carefree and limitless. He believed that anything was possible; that logistics weren’t important. You were the one that kept him leveled; that yes, ideas and fantasy is important, but the actuality of it is important too.

“Marry me,” he repeated. He said it so simply, as if it held the same weight as asking if you wanted to go out for ice cream later, or if you wanted to stay in or go out for dinner tonight.

You furrowed your brows, your mouth running dry. “We’re 22, Jack.”

He scoffed, mirroring your body language as he rose from his position on the couch. “So?” he shrugged. He took your hands in his as you failed to meet his green eyes. “I want to be with you, Y/N. I know that more than anything. You can move in with me, we could get engaged now and married next year, my grandmother would love you, and—”

“Jack—”

“My brothers already consider you a part of the family—”

“Jack—”

“Why don’t we just make it official, you know? You could be family and—”

“Jack stop,” you scolded, removing your hands from his as he stared at you with a look you’ve never seen before. He’s never been the level-headed type. He’d always been one to fantasize, but this felt extreme. You two were still young, you were still trying to find a stable job and make a name for yourself. You couldn’t get married now. “Listen to yourself. I don’t even have a stable job.”

“You don’t need one!” he exclaimed. “I can work, I can make enough for the both of us, you don’t need to worry about money.”

You stood up from the couch, fuming. How could he just dismiss everything you’ve ever worked for like that? “But I want to work.”

“So work,” he shrugged. “Find a job, I don’t know! All I know is that I want to get married to you. Don’t you want that with me?”

You paced around the living room, trying to wrap your head around everything. “Yes, of course I want that with you, Jack. I just,” you took a deep breath. “I don’t want that right now.”

You watched him recoil. He wanted it now, you could see it in the way he goes silent, and the way he looks as if he wants to be nowhere near you right now. “When do you want it then?”

It wasn’t like you had a set date in mind, but it sounded like all he could hear from you was that you didn’t want to get married. He didn’t want to listen to you. Whenever anything deviated from what he wanted, he shut down. That was just who he was, always has been.

You crossed your arms, holding yourself as if that was the only thing that felt familiar to you in that moment. “I don’t know, like when we’re 24/25?”

“Two more years?” he questioned incredulously. If he knew he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life, why couldn’t he just wait?

“Jack, your fans don’t even know we’re dating!” you shouted. “How are they going to feel when they find out you’re fucking married? Would you even tell them or would you just keep me a secret for the rest of our lives?”

“You know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I’m just not ready, and you know you aren’t either.”

He laughed, but it felt poisonous, like venom was dripping from his tongue. It didn’t feel like his infectious laughs that you wanted to replay in your mind for the rest of your life. It felt like a memory you needed to erase. “What are you saying, Y/N? This isn’t just a random thought, I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. And I guess, I just thought that you were thinking about it too.”

“I have been! Just. Not. Now, Jack. Why can’t you just listen to me? It’s not just you involved in this! This is both of our lives that this is affecting!”

“Well, I didn’t think it would be such a negative in your life.”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was acting as if the two years you had spent together was nothing to you. “I never said that and you know that.”

“Yeah? Well, it sure feels like it.”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

It was like you hit a nerve. Like you touched something that you never knew was beneath him. “Then why are you even with me? If I’m so unbelievable.”

“You can’t be serious, Jack,” you shook your head, rounding the corner of the room and towards your shoes that were laid at the entrance of the apartment. You pointed at him as he followed you. “You’re acting like a child. Grow up!”

“Me? You’re the one that’s scared of committing!”

“I’m not scared of committing to you, Jack. I’m scared of not being me anymore. You need to know the difference!”

“Then tell me the fucking difference, because right now, it just feels like we’re breaking up.”

Your head shook, your fingers didn’t feel like your fingers anymore, and in real life, in that office chair, your eyes scrunched and your breathing quickened. You couldn’t relive this. Somehow, it hurt more the second time.

“I don’t even know who I am yet!” you threw your hands in the air. “And you just expect me to be Mrs. Hughes? To be a part of your family? To make me… yours?”

“Come on, Y/N. You’re being dramatic. You’re acting like I’m taking you, or something.”

“I’m not dramatic, you’re just not listening to me!”

“I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to listen to you, but you’re making this so fucking difficult. You make everything fucking difficult. You’re just too much sometimes.”

You didn’t even know you were crying by then, but you were. You were sniffling as you walked around the apartment, grabbing your jacket from the couch, your purse from the dining table, and your shoes from the entryway. You could hear him pestering you with questions: Where are you going? We’re not done with this. Are we breaking up? If you leave, we’re done.

But you’ve spent your life being a people pleaser. You’ve abandoned yourself time and time again to make ends meet. You’ve skipped so many important events to go to his games, and to meet him in California just because he asked you to, and at the most important times of your career, times when you asked him to just stop by for a second so you could have one familiar, comforting face, he had a game, or he had to go out with the guys for “team-bonding”, or something else of higher matter just took priority. All you asked for was effort from both sides.

So to hear that you prioritizing yourself for the first time was dramatic? You couldn’t hear him anymore. All you wanted was to get the hell out of there—even if it meant breaking up.

Courtney pulled up outside as you rushed into her car, your chest heaving and tears spilling out of your eyes. She didn’t ask what happened, she could tell from your texts that it was something bad, something unrecoverable.

But, as if saying it out loud would help you comprehend it for yourself, you said the undeniable.

“I think we just broke up.”

#eternal sunshine ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes #ariana grande #eternal sunshine #eternal sunshine of the spotless mind #hockey imagines

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wlntrsldler · 9 months

Text

crush | sam obisanya

based on crush by tessa violet

description: you started getting origami hearts from a secret admirer. you secretly hoped it was a certain richmond player.

warnings: language-- it's ted lasso, what did ya expect?; kissing! a looootttt of smiling from sam, richmond himbos, sam and jamie bffs

pairing: sam obisanya x f! reader (she/her)

word count: 2.8K

ted lasso requests are open! | main masterlist

It started on a random Tuesday.

You walked into the coaches’ office where your temporary desk was located– Beard nearly begged you to take Trent’s old desk because the office without Ted or Trent just felt too empty– and you saw it sitting on top of your work laptop.

It was a red, origami heart.

You looked around, puzzled, trying to figure out who left it, or at the very least, if everyone else had one on their desks too. You tried to catch someone’s eye, perhaps they’d reveal who left it on your desk, but all the coaches were in the locker room talking strategy with the entire team.

Maybe the coaches did get one and they just put it away before you got here. After all, you got to work an hour after everyone else did. You picked up the heart and turned it over to find something scribbled on the back.

“If I were loved, as I desire to be” - Lord Alfred Tennyson

You furrowed your eyebrows, holding the origami heart gently as you ransacked your small bookshelf beside your desk. Your fingers traced the spines of the books you had laying around, stopping on your copy of Tennyson’s Poetical Works. A bookmark was peeking from the top of the book and you knew exactly what poem it was.

The small smile on your lips threatened to get bigger as you read the poem over and over again. You were sure you read the poem about fifty times before you shut the book. By the time you got yourself situated, and placed the origami heart with the rest of the trinkets on your desk, it was time to join the coaches in the locker room.

As you walked in, your eyes met Sam’s. He offered a small wave which you returned happily. Sam was the first friend you made at Nelson Road. When you were hired by KJPR to manage Richmond’s social media and newsletters, your time was split between the KJPR HQ and the facility. It wasn’t because Keeley needed you at KJPR, but more so because you were too nervous to work at a football club every day.

Turns out, there was no reason to be nervous. About two weeks into your job, you found yourself itching to work onsite at Nelson Road. You loved the community they built there, their camaraderie, and their mutual trust, respect, and love for each other were more than admirable.

And sure, it also helped that Sam Obisanya was here, but that was neither here nor there.

When Keeley and Rebecca first found out about your crush on Sam, which they had to force out of you– in your defense, you knew about Rebecca and Sam’s history and you didn’t want to step on any toes– they lost it. Rebecca, of course, reassured you that it was alright with her, especially since she was with her Dutchman now. The two women would make googly eyes at you whenever they saw you talking to Sam.

“Y/N! Why else would he come into your office so often? He fancies you!”

“He’s just borrowing a book, Keels,” you frowned, “Jan Maas and Bumbercatch do the same thing.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes, “But they don’t do it as often.”

You shrugged, “Maybe Sam just reads fast.”

“Hopeless.” The two women said in sync, laughing as you threw a pen in their direction.

Stuck in your little daydream, it was Roy’s booming voice that snapped you out of your thoughts. You blinked a few times, surprised to find Sam’s eyes still on yours. You blushed under his intense stare and decided to be the one to break the connection. You walked out behind Nate, pretending to scribble on your notepad.

“Y/N!” Colin called, running to catch up with you. He threw an arm around you, “How’s my favorite social media and branding manager?”

You eyed him wearily but played along. You’d need a few more seconds to figure out what he wants, “I’m alright. How about you, Hughes?”

“I’m doing fine, as well. Say, did you do something new to your hair? It looks absolutely lovel-”

“Give it up, mate,” Sam chimed in, removing Colin’s arm from around you, “She is not taking down your promo pictures from the grid.”

You feigned a look of hurt, “And here I thought you were just being kind to me!”

Colin let out a long groan, sounding like a toddler throwing a tantrum, “The pictures aren’t flattering, Y/N! I look hideous.”

You shook your head, leaning up to squish Colin’s cheeks together, “Impossible. You’re proper fit. All of you are.”

While your (failed attempt) pep talk didn’t lift Colin’s spirits– he then went to Isaac and complained even more as he was stretching– Sam’s ears perked up at your words. Did you think he was fit? No, no, you couldn’t have. You were just saying it to make a point to Colin, right? You said the whole team was fit, not just him.

You waved goodbye to Sam, smiling at him once again, and he swears he felt his knees buckle from under him. How he managed to make it the rest of the way to the pitch and how he managed to remember how to play football after that was truly beyond him.

“Lord help me,” Sam muttered, leaning down to touch his toes.

“Yeah, lad,” Jamie grimaced next to him, though his tone was teasing. He watched the entire situation unfold. He knew about Sam’s pining and has been on the receiving end of many of Sam’s “Y/N is so lovely. Y/N is so smart. Isn’t she great?” ramblings. “You need some divine intervention because you’re pathetic.”

Sam just shoved Jamie, but he knew he was right. He was a goner.

You figured that the origami heart was a one-time thing, but to your surprise, you found another one on your desk the following day. This time it was blue. Excited to find out what lies behind the paper, you picked it up hurriedly, already smiling ear to ear before you even read it.

“In case you ever foolishly forget: I am never not thinking of you.” - Virginia Woolf

“What do you have there?”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” You jumped at the sound of Keeley’s voice. She was leaning against the doorframe, smirking at your caught reaction. You held the heart between your pointer finger and thumb. You walked over to her, “This is the second one I’ve gotten.”

Keeley’s eyes widened as she read the words on the back. She squealed, rushing to you to shake you by your shoulders, “Babe, you’ve got a secret admirer! Oh my gosh, this is so cute!”

Keeley, bless her, was never one to be discreet when it came to all things romantic. Everyone in the locker room turned to look at you and Keeley in the coaches’ office, most with a confused expression on their face. You awkwardly waved before reaching over to pull Keeley into the covered part of the office. Sure, it wasn’t soundproof, but at least they didn’t get to see your embarrassment.

“Hush,” you tutted, taking the heart back from her. You placed it beside the red one, smiling at how it made your desk look more colorful. “I do not have a secret admirer. Whoever is doing this obviously just has an affinity for good literature and wants to share it with me since I’m a reader.”

“Right well I have an affinity for good champagne, but you don’t see me popping bottles with you every chance I get,” Keeley rolled her eyes, sitting on your desk. She picked up the origami heart from yesterday, groaning in disbelief, “Seriously, Y/N! How much more obvious can they get? They literally confessed their love for you in this one!”

“I do not have a secret admirer.”

“Who has a secret admirer?”

You, once again, jumped at the sound of Rebecca’s voice. Her eyebrows were raised as she walked into your office, munching on some cookies. They weren’t better than Ted’s but she’d gotten used to having cookies for breakfast that she had to make do.

“Y/N has a secret admirer, look!” Keeley ran to Rebecca, holding the two origami hearts in her hand. “Look at how cute these are.”

Rebecca studied them closely, a large smirk on her face when she locked eyes with you, “This is Sam.”

You blushed at the mention of his name, “It is not Sam because I don’t have a secret admirer. Now if you excuse me, I have work to do.”

You tried your best to steady yourself as you walked out to the locker room. The coaches had finished their talk and the team was just doing some final things before they headed out to the pitch for training.

Sam walked over to you, head tilted in question. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “Keeley and Rebecca are just being silly.”

He nodded, “Hey, I’m almost finished with the most recent book you loaned me.”

“Are you?” You grinned at him. He mirrored you. “I love that book.”

“I know,” Sam’s eyes drifted briefly to your lips. Oh, what he would give to feel your lips on his, even just for a second. He couldn’t help but keep staring at you as you went on about your favorite parts. Sam could picture the hundreds of outlined quotes you had in the copy he borrowed, different colored sticky notes and highlighters for different things. He noticed that as you spoke you stayed within the confines of the first part of the book. Sam realized later that it was because you didn’t want to risk spoiling anything for him. His heart warmed at the thought.

By the time you finished recounting the book, you were red and out of breath. You placed a hand on Sam’s bicep, not missing the way he tensed under your palm. You could feel the outline of his hard muscles under his kit, which made you suck in a breath. “I’ll see you around, Sam. Come find me when you finish the book and I’ll let you talk my ear off about it. Only fair since I just did it to you.”

He chuckled, watching you disappear into the hallway where Higgins' office was, the opposite way of the pitch where he was headed. His eyes followed your figure until you fully disappeared, which meant that he was not paying attention to where he was going. Right before his body crashed into a pole, Jamie grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him toward the walkway. Sam, who seemed to awaken from his trance, shyly looked at Jamie.

Jamie chuckled quietly at Sam. He whipped Sam playfully with a rolled-up towel. He jogged lightly and called out to him with his Mancunian accent, “Come on, lover boy. We got trainin’ to do.”

After the fifth day of receiving origami hearts, you decided to take it upon yourself to investigate. Without telling anyone of your plans, not even Keeley or Rebecca who were still convinced it was Sam, you arrived at Nelson Road ten minutes after the call time for the team and coaches.

You entered from the back of the facility, knowing that you had closed your blinds before you left work yesterday. If there was someone in your office, they wouldn’t see you coming in. As you approached the coaches’ office, the outline of someone leaning across your desk caught your eye.

Bingo.

Your heart swelled when you realized who it was. You cleared your throat, “Sam?”

Sam turned around quickly, staring at you like a deer in headlights. He rubbed the back of his neck, “Oh hey, Y/N! You’re here early.”

“Yeah, I have a few things to get done today,” you lied, walking over to your desk. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, right, um,” he held out the book you let him borrow from behind him, “Just wanted to return this. I was just gonna leave it on your desk, but since you’re already here, here you go.”

“Oh,” you tried to mask your disappointment as you reached over to grab the book from him. Your fingers grazed his, sending shocks throughout your entire body. You looked down on your desk and found an origami heart on your laptop once more. This time it looked like a different type of paper. It was lightly colored and patterned instead of the usual solid color. You looked at Sam, “Did you see who left this here?”

Sam, who was already halfway out the door, shrugged, reaching up to rub the back of his neck again, “Nope. It was there when I got here.”

Sure, you always denied that the secret admirer was Sam whenever Keeley and Rebecca teased you for it, but you would be a liar if you said you didn’t also secretly hope that it was him. You really liked Sam. Ever since you started working for AFC Richmond, Sam has shown you nothing but kindness. He asks you how you’re doing, and genuinely cares about your response. He pops in every week or so to borrow a book from your personal library. Then, he sits in your office after training when he finishes a book to talk about it with you. That was your favorite part of your job.

The entire day, you felt dejected and defeated. You’re never going to figure out who was leaving you these little hearts. You didn’t join the team on the pitch or leave your office. At the end of the day, you found yourself staring at a blank Word document. A knock on your wall pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up and found Sam, standing in your doorway with two bags of takeaway in his hands.

“Ready to talk Normal People?” Sam asked, walking in to take his usual spot across your desk. “I brought yummy food.”

“Ola’s?”

He nodded, unwrapping the boxes of food to lay out on your desk. “Of course.”

“Yes!” You cheered, reaching for your hand sanitizer. You offered some to Sam, which he gladly accepted. You pumped some into the palm of his hand and watched in concern as he hissed in pain when he rubbed it into his skin. “You okay?”

He shook his hands to air dry them, a grimace still on his features. “Yeah, just forgot that I had paper cuts.”

The admission almost flew over your head. Almost. It wasn’t until Sam muttered the word “Shit,” under his breath did you realize what he said. Sam rarely ever cussed, and when he did, it was because of something big. When you looked at him, he was staring at you with a nervous look on his face.

“Sam…” you trailed off.

Sam, taking your tone as a rejection, balled up his fist and bit his knuckles in anticipation. When you couldn’t find the right words, Sam interjected, “Okay, Y/N, before you get mad, hear me out please.”

You continued to stare at him in disbelief, unable to accept that it was him. He pushed his chair back, giving himself more space as he began his explanation. “Alright, so… Yes, it’s me. I have been leaving these little hearts on your desk. I’m sorry I lied to you this morning, but I panicked! I didn’t know you were coming in early. Also, I promise that I was going to tell you eventually. I was just nervous because I don’t want to ruin what we have now.”

“I like being friends with you,” he started to say, then cringed at his own words, “Okay, let me rephrase that– I enjoy being your friend, but I do want something more. I really like you, Y/N. I have never really been good at expressing my romantic feelings to people so I figured the greats could do it for me so I started making these little origami hearts with my favorite works and quotes on the back. I was getting quite good at it until I switched the paper I was using. Thus, the paper cuts.”

“Sam, I-”

“Also, I just want to add, you are absolutely under no obligation to go out with me or anything like that. Unless, of course, you want to. Then, that would be great! I would love to go out with you.” He looked at you, like truly looked at you, for the first time since he began his little ramble. He groaned, “Christ, you didn’t even ask. Wait– I didn’t even ask you to go out yet.”

“Sam, please,” You laughed, getting up from your chair to stand in front of him. “I was hoping it was you who was leaving these origami hearts.”

“Really?” he asked, breathless. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “You are not disappointed that it was me?”

You backed off a bit as he stood from his seat, walking over to you. You shook your head no, “I was absolutely devastated when you said it wasn’t you who put it on my desk this morning.”

Before you could say anything else, Sam placed his lips on yours. His hands found the side of your face, holding you at an angle that made it easier for your lips to glide against each other. Your hands lay flat against his chest, feeling the rumbling of his heart easily. As you slipped your tongue into his mouth, a deep groan escaped him, which fueled your actions. After a few moments, you pulled away from him but kept him close.

Your arms were wrapped around his neck as you looked up at him. “So what do you think? The paper cuts worth it?”

“Oh, 100%,” Sam easily replied, laughing as he squeezed your hips. He leaned down once again, unable to keep his lips away from yours any longer.

Needless to say, you didn’t get to talk about Normal People, but neither of you cared.

#ted lasso #ted lasso fics #ted lasso oneshot #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso imagine #sam obisanya #sam obisanya x yn #sam obisanya oneshot #sam obisanya imagine #sam obisanya fanfic #sam obisanya x reader #sam obisanya x y/n #frances writes #frances song fics

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