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siasthoughts · 1 day

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« I'M THE ONE YOU ALWAYS NEED. »

CONCEPT; MORTEFI X F!READER . YOU WENT TO HIM TO ASK HIM TO INVENT SOMETHING.

TOPICS/WARNINGS; USING TOYS . QUICK ORAL (F!RECEIVING) . ATP IDK . NGL THIS FEELS LIKE A DRABBLE . P IN V . PROBABLY OOC

IM PLAYING WUTHERING WAVES AND IM IN LOVE W SO MANY OF THEM N R PLANNING SOME FICS 💞 also should i start writing on ao3 hehe

WORD COUNT; 1.5K

"hey..." you voiced awkwardly as you tapped your knuckles at his open office door, catching his attention. "yes, do you need anything?" he asks, turning towards you and putting down his tablet. you walk into the office nervously, "you said i could ask you if i needed anything made, right?" you questioned, averting your gaze and looking around the room. "yes... i did say that." he looks at you, crossing his arms as he observed your anxious expression. you gulped quietly, swallowing your pride as you really can't seem to find anyone that sells these things... "have you ever made a..."

his eyes widen slightly at your inquiry, a replica of male genitalia? he clears his throat, holding up his fist to his mouth as he took a few moments to think before speaking up, "well no but... i couldn't say that anyone ever asked either." he turns back around to his desk and sends the current hologram he's working on into his drafts before starting a new project, "so... can you?" you asked for reassurance, tilting your head to get a view of the hologram.

he turns to you, leaning on his desk as he looks down at you with rested eyes, you could feel that you've definitely piqued his interest with your 'invention idea.' "have you ever considered just finding someone to be able to..." his voice lowers, "-use the real thing?" he leans down just a bit, but enough for you to get what he's insinuating. "well sure, in a way." you answered, your voice tensing up.

"oh really?" he retreats back, bringing up his hand to push his glasses back, "which person have you thought of?" he interrogated, seemingly trying to pry a certain answer out of you. you look away, staying silent for a few moments he breaks the silence with a small sigh, "well, it's understandable if you wish to not answer. but, i'll try to make that for you. expect it by the end of the day."

he sure works quick. a relieved exhale, even though embarassment still ran through your body, huffs out of your lips as he turns back to his desk. "t-thank you." you stammer nervously as you swiftly made your way out without exchanging any last words with the red haired researcher.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

as you were just getting ready to leave the laboratory, you hear a certain voice call out from behind you. you turn to see a familiar figure with gold-rimmed glasses—mortefi, and he was holding a paper bag.

you feel heat rise to your face as you remember what you just asked of him. "here's what you requested." he walks over to you, holding up the bag as his tablet rested within his other hand. "oh... you really made one." your hands trembled slightly as you took the bag, feeling shame wash over you. "oh, and sorry if it might not be to your best liking, i used... my own as a slight reference." he said as he closed his eyes for a few moments before looking back up at you.

shock runs through you for a few moments before you smiled awkwardly at him, "oh- okay. thanks a lot though!" you tried to force an enthusiastic answer, failing miserable as your voice cracked a bit. "well then, i guess it's time to head home and have fun, no?" he said rather coldly, and with a straight face as he eyed you. well that felt rather insulting. you laughed sheepishly as you clenched onto the paper bag.

you thought about it for a while, if it's like his... why not just use the actual reference?

"sir... have you ever bothered doing these things with someone?" you asked, making the tension even more unbearable and uncomfortable. his eyes narrowed as he looked at you, certain conclusions and thoughts already being formed in his head. "yes, in a way." he answered, seemingly mocking your words from earlier. "then..." you took a small breath, "would you mind using this with me?" your voice shakes as your grip on the bag tightens.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

well fuck.

he now knelt in between your thighs, with your legs over his shoulders, taking in your most sensitive parts as you sat over his desk. "i suppose we need to make your body ready first, right?" he voiced hoarsely, how is he doing this with a stern and cold expression? you swallow a breath as you looked at his calm gaze, "y-yes." you stuttered in a failed attempt to seem composed.

he took off his glasses, and placing it on his cold table before placing a warm, wet kiss onto your core, making your body shiver. you looked down at him as he strategically worked his mouth around you. he held onto your thighs, keeping you stable as his tongue gently worked around your folds, preparing your body and riling up it's appetite. your legs lock his head within your thighs, pulling him closer to your pussy. "mm..." he groaned out, making him frown a bit though he didn't really... dislike it.

"sorry..." you mumbled quietly, loosening your grip as he pulls back, and getting back up "it's very much okay and reasonable." he assures as he reaches for the bag and takes out it's contents. you shift your gaze to what's now in his hands, he used his own as reference?! it was lengthy, and he brought it down to your already wet cunt. "are you ready?" he asked, positioning the dildo against your drooling pussy, "yes." you whined quietly, looking down at the silicone toy.

"alright, i'm gonna do it slowly, okay?" he assured, his voice was low as he slowly pushed it in, starting with the tip. he kept his attention down towards your hole, observing the way it clenched desperately around the fake cock. he clenched his jaw as he slowly pushed it further, earning him a small moan from you as he felt his pants tighten. well shit.

he notices the now growing bulge in his pants as he pushes the entire thing into you gently, "is it okay?" he asks, looking back up at your now pleasure-washed face. it turned him even more. "absolutely..." you responded breathily as you looked down to see his aching cock hiding under the fabric of his pants. "i'll move it now." he thrusted the toy in and out slowly, hearing the wet noises as your pussy resisted against the movement.

he groans, feeling extremely jealous of the silicone figure within his hands. you moaned at the sensation electrifying you, shooting shots of pleasure into your veins as his hands sped up. your body shook as he started to get rougher, now slamming it into you as a knot formed quickly within your core.

"i-i'm getting close..." you mewled out as your legs instinctively closed themselves, and your back arching as his hand kept themselves on your hip to keep you stable. you cry out as you feel the pleasure wash over you, that knot breaking apart as you feel warm liquid spill out of your pussy, making your legs weak. "ah..." he muttered as he slowly pulled it out, feeling the fabric encasing his own heat now tighten even more as it hurts.

you look down at it, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you look up at him, "better if it's the real thing, no?" you said with a dazed laugh as you wrap your legs around his waist. "is this permission?" he asks with eager eyes as he put the dildo aside and his hands slowly undid his pants. "mhm..." you hummed, and even though you just finished, you felt excited for the real thing.

he laughed quietly as he let his pants fall a bit, revealing his twitching dick. it was desperate for your gaping hole, the way it squeezed on the dildo made him all frustrated for some reason. he wanted to feel it for himself. "i'm sorry, dear, i can't wait." he apologizes before pushing himself slowly but firmly into you. he groans at the feeling, your walls tightened against him and sending his body into euphoria as he feels his control over his body slowly dissipate.

you let out a staggered breath, though the smile returns to your lips as you find it in you to make some teasing remarks. "feels good, doesn't it?" you whisper as your hand moves up to cradle his face. "yes..." he says huskily as he couldn't find the strength to move. "what's wrong? why can't you move?" you voiced rather condescendingly as you start to circle your hips against him.

he frowns as his body twitches at your motion, with his grip on your waist deepening. you feel his fingers dig into your soft skin, making you feel a bit confident of your skills. mortefi hisses through his teeth as he slowly started to move, his length leaving your insides empty for a few moments before burying himself back inside you.

a small cry escapes your lips as you feel his cock fill your empty hole, and your body reacts as if it was running on desire. you reach for his back, your arms travel down his waist, stopping just at the hill of his hips. you push him further into you as sounds of pleasure quickly filled the room, echoing through the empty walls. you're both so lucky that everybody's gone.

you claw at his clothes, feeling as if you were ripping the white fabric apart, you whine out his name as you feel that familiar feeling boil up within your body. and you were sure he could feel it too. "are you close?" you asked breathily as his pace started to speed up, rougher, and harder. "so... tight." he frowns as he ravishes in the pleasure, letting it devour him as he continues to ram himself into you.

"i'm so close-" he scowls, his other hand roaming the skin of your stomach as he takes in the view under him. your vision slowly fades to white as you feel your mind go blank, losing your control over your body as you feel that sensation shatter, sending shards of pleasure all across your body. your body uncontrollably trembles under his touch as he pulls out swiftly with a groan and pressing his dick against your cunt, grinding into his climax.

you feel a sticky, warm liquid spill across your stomach and the soft plush of your pussy.

okay it's all up to u now guys 🤑

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#wuthering waves #mortefi #mortefi x reader #wuthering waves x reader #fanfic #x reader #smut #[💮] SIA.#[📝] sia.#f!reader #female reader #ooc #out of character.

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messinwitheddie · 6 months

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Since Red died, did Purple keep any of his belongings? Wore any of his cloths or armor?

What was he like at the funeral? Did any other Irken feel his pain or was Purple the only one mourning?

Yeet "Oooh... The Tallest really isn't fond of answering questions about late Red's death. I'll answer any questions as best I can.

"My tallest mourned late Red longer and harder than I have ever seen any drone mourn another drone. They knew each other since smeethood. They were linked in spirit, not just in their title. I think it was brave and sweet how openly Tallest Purple grieved, but he worries the empire might see his grief as a weakness.

Tallest funerals are never recorded or broadcasted on live stream. I remember watching the news segment announcing Late Red's passing. Tallest Purple looked like a shell of himself when he addressed the empire. His wardrobe staff told me he was inconsolable at Red's funeral. He could barely keep it together long enough to carry Red into the Colossus's right hand and read his rites before lighting his body aflame. They told me his grieving screams echoed clear across no drone's land... Poor tallest Purple.

Usually when a tallest passes the empire goes into lockdown until a tallest is measured. There is a period of recognition and manditory honorable mourning by the empire, but because late Red and Tallest Purple ruled as one unit, there was no lock down. Purple just took over the full title and us shorter drones were instructed to carry on as normal.

I think that really distressed Purple that the empire didn't seem to mourn his loss as he did. I'm sure SOMEONE besides Tallest Purple must have been devastated when late Red passed.

To be fair, my generation have only been alive long enough to salute late Red and Tallest Purple. Most of the empire is still nostalgic about late Miyuki, which is understandable. She's a hero of mine too. Late Red didn't rule long enough for the general public to be deeply invested in his passing. He's convinced no one will mourn him when he passes. I, personally, imprinted on Purple as a smeet, so I take comfort in knowing he's still with us. I would be devastated if we lost Purple, even if he doesn't believe me.

Purple wore his funerary robes for YEARS after Red's passing. He was still wearing his white robes and vail when he hired me as his coordinator. He snapped out of that eventually, but went through a fase where EVERYONE on the massive had to wear late Red's shade of red. I was even instructed to wear contacts to alter my eye color for his first century jubilee. Luckily he moved past that too.

Late Red's formal robes are on display at the Tallests' memorial museum on the massive, but Tallest Purple has kept all of late Red's other robes in his chambers. He kept nearly all of late Red's possessions, including the puppets he crafted, his old battle ballad choir helmet from his cadet days and even the bag from the last box of donuts he ate.

I made another silk doll of Red in formal robes for Tallest Purple. He talks to it regularly. It's a little strange, but whatever brings him confort.

Threw in some old posts on the subject. Again, couldn't find the exact post I was thinking of In reference to this ask ^^; This reminds me; I never really touched on the side plot, but frylady Soo-Garr was actually in love with tallest Red; which was her biggest motivation to try to become the next frylord of the Massive's grand mess hall.

I REALLY wish I knew how to find my tumblr archive. I forget half the crap I come up with. ><

#invader zim #18-years-later #au #tallest purple #irken #ocs #asks #might be a few days before I'm able to answer any more questions

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moonstruckme · 7 days

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babe you’ve got me obsessed with doctor remus!

can i request a drabble where reader gets into like a car accident and has been taken into a&e with like mid/severe injuries and remus has been assigned to treat her?

if not then that’s fine! love your work bae 🎀

Hi gorgeous! Thank you for requesting (I'm obsessed with him too) :)

cw: hospital

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 716 words

The nurse leaves, and you think you might finally get more than five seconds to yourself but then the curtain pulls back again, a tall doctor taking her place. You’ve been able to feel your heartbeat pulsing through every inch of you since you’d stumbled out of your smoking car, and this new man doesn’t help matters.

He’s lovely. With a face smattered with warm freckles and silvery scars and a mop of brown hair that looks like it’s never once been brushed, this is the kind of person who would fluster you on a normal day. Now, you don’t even know the word to describe the effect he has on you.

He has to ask his question a second time before you hear it.

“Have you had allergic reactions to any medications?”

You blink. It still feels like reality is moving at twice its usual speed. You don’t know if it’s just you shaking, but it feels like the whole room. “Uh, no. Sorry.”

“That’s alright.” The doctor’s voice is businesslike but kind, with a Welsh lilt. He flips a page on his clipboard. “Anything we weren’t able to address in the ambulance? Any new aches and pains?”

“I—I don’t think so.”

He lowers the clipboard slightly, looking at you. His eyes are a lightish brown color, like honey left too long in the sun. “Has anyone talked you through grounding exercises?”

You feel your brow wrinkle. “What?”

He almost smiles. “I’ll take that for a no.” He sets down his clipboard on the edge of your bed, pulling up a rolling chair and sitting down in front of you. “I’m going to have you breathe with me for a minute, alright, sweetheart?”

It’s not in your nature to contradict professionals, but you feel your head shaking as if from somewhere outside of yourself. “Why?” you ask. “Aren’t there more important things?”

“There are still things left to do,” he allows, seeming unaffected by your questioning, “but you’re stable. It’s nothing that can’t wait for a few minutes, and it’s important that you’re calm so you can think properly.” He takes your hands in his, ignoring the odd padding of the splint around your broken wrist and holding your fingertips instead. “All I need from you is for you to copy my breathing. Can you do that for me?”

You nod. As he starts to talk you through it, your eyes begin to sting, an effect of his gentle tone or the respite your body has been craving or both. Your doctor’s expression doesn’t change when he sees the silver lining your eyes, but he gives your fingertips a light squeeze.

“Okay, in for eight this time,” he says in that lulling voice. “Good job, just keep at it.”

You manage to breathe in for long enough to satisfy him, and after the exhale he drops your hands.

“Well done,” he murmurs, mindful of the small cuts on your face as he thumbs away your tears. “Are you feeling a bit better?”

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. The word comes out like a sigh, and his lip curves softly at the plain relief in the sound.

“Happy to hear it. You were right earlier, there’s still plenty left to do,” he says, expression sombering somewhat as he looks at you intently, “but if you ever need a break, you tell me or someone else, okay? I don’t want you suffering in silence.”

“Okay.” You wet your lips, feeling much more solid than you had a few minutes before. The world has slowed to its regular speed. “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.”

He smiles, which is altogether too charming for a place like this. It makes the long scar going across his cheek crinkle slightly and you could swear his eyes lighten a shade. “Well, see, that’s how I know you weren’t really with me when you came in, because we’ve already been introduced.” His expression lets you know he hasn’t taken any offense, but your face still heats at your impoliteness. “It’s Doctor Lupin, but you can call me Remus.”

Something in you rings at this new knowledge, like a tuning fork has been struck. Remus, your consciousness echoes quietly.

His smile softens. “We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other today.”

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howtofightwrite · 3 months

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If someone was shot through the thigh (Nothing major hit, clean entry/exit wounds if logistically possible, how long would it take before they could walk without an aid of some kind? I'm counting hobbling and limping as walking.

Follow Up Question: Any idea what kind of med care that would need without getting a hospital involved with it?

So, this is one of those times where the answer really is, “it depends.” While you can't walk off a gunshot wound, getting shot in the leg might not actually stop you from walking or running, though this comes with a caveat that you're not going to make it especially far. Though the answer to, “how far?” could easily be, “as far as adrenaline will carry you.” This includes cases where the bullet fractures the bone, but doesn't completely shatter it. Though, those cases are going to be extremely unpleasant (for obvious reasons.)

Actual recovery times will vary wildly depending on far too many factors, and you can end up with chronic pain that never heals. Best case, you're looking at a couple weeks before the wound heals, most of the time you're looking at a few months, and lingering pain could last for over a year (if it ever does go away.)

While this is an unusual example, the warning about not aggravating a wound still applies, and trying to hobble around after getting shot is a fantastic way to inflict more harm on yourself. Figure it will take roughly ten weeks for the meat to properly heal up, and while you might be somewhat mobile before that time, it's probably a good idea not to overly stress it before it has fully recovered.

As for medical treatment, most of that is going to be packing it with gauze and (ideally) getting dosed out of your gourd on antibiotics. Gauze is easy, and the only real concern there is keeping you from leaking blood all over the place (while also providing some protection against future infection. The gauze needs to be changed, at least, daily, and the wound will need to be packed with gauze (so, not just wrapping it around the leg.) Getting the latter without a hospital is going to be a lot harder these days. The rise of antibiotic resistant bacteria strains means that these kinds of antibiotics are kept on a much shorter leash today. Unfortunately, it's also kinda critical for the whole, “not dying,” thing.

It turns out that the whole part about a bullet being hot enough to sterilize itself is a myth, so any bacteria on the bullet, and of course, any bacteria that gets into the wound itself after the fact, will have a very easy path to infection. Deep tissue wounds like this are a hugeinfection risk, and these are the kinds of infections that can easily turn lethal.

Of course, a doctor will be better able to assess whether the injury was actually a clean through'n'through, or if something was nicked. A bullet can easily graze an artery, leading to persistent bleeding that will kill the victim without surgical assistance, but won't be fast enough to look worrying. It's just when it doesn't stop after several days of bleeding, that they might realize this is very bad.

So, again, they could potentially be on their feet immediately after being shot. How long it would take them to recover is a lot harder to assess, and if they did insist in walking around, that could make things much worse.

-Starke

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#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #how to fight write #starke answers #starke is not a real doctor

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finelinevogue · 1 year

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family will get you through

summary - you go through a life changing operation but you have a strong family to get you through it

warnings: brain tumour, anxiety, self deprecation, swearing, kissing n fluff, hopeful ending, i wrote this 2 years ago so it’s not up to my usual writing standards unfortunately :(

word count: +6.8 k

pairing: husband/dad!harry x reader

Everything was occurring like normal. You were making the kids lunches for school as usual. You were cleaning the breakfast away as usual. Harry was on his last day of tour. Yet, somehow, within 24 hours, your life was going to be turned upside down.

For the worst.

During the hoovering of the carpet you heard your phone ring. After spending 10 seconds to find the bloody thing you finally picked up.

"Hello?" You asked, not recognising the number.

"Hi there. Is this Y/N Styles speaking?" The male voice asked, on the end of the line.

"Yes it is." You answer.

"Hiya Y/N. It's Dr Hughes here." He introduced himself, but it didn't comfort you any more knowing who was on the other side of the phone. Your doctor never calls you unless it's bad news. The last time they called, it was because Sofia might have had suspected appendicitis. She didn't, but still the doctors remained the bearers of bad news.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Dr Hughes?" You asked politely, with a hint of sarcasm dripping in your tone.

"Unfortunately I bring bad news, again, Mrs Styles." He began, making you gulp down your worries unsuccessfully. "The tests that we ran on you, a while back, came back and unfortunately there is a problem." Your heart relaxed slightly that there was nothing wrong with your children or your husband.

"Okay." You urged him to carry on, disliking all the tip-toeing sounds the problem.

"Mrs Styles, there is no easy way of me telling you this." Dr Hughes took a deep breath before announcing the news. "You have a brain tumour, Y/N."

Luckily you were stood by the sofa and were able to collapse on that, when your legs gave way, otherwise you'd have landed on the floor. You covered your hand over you mouth to muffle any noises that threatened to escape, as you were in pure shock.

"It's not an overly large tumour and it will be able to be removed, with quick and efficient surgery, which we can offer, but we needed confirmation that you are willing to go through with this first." Your head was spinning and you couldn't tell up from down for a minute. It took a few calls of your name, from Dr Hughes, to pull you back.

"Um... Sorry. Is there any chance I can come talk to you in person?" You sniffled, but cleared your throat to try and stay strong over the phone.

"I'm free all tomorrow morning, Mrs Styles. Please feel free to drop in at any time." He kindly offered.

"Thank you." You said.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Styles, but if we act quickly you'll be alright. I guarantee it." He assured you and with you final goodbye you hung up the phone.

With him no longer listening to you over the phone you were able to break down in tears. You never thought something like this would be happening to you, but yet here you were. With a brain tumour, no less.

Your cry's were starting to hurt your chest from how heavy they were. You couldn't calm yourself down and all you wanted right now was Harry. Harry... What would he think about all this? Would he leave you? You hated that your brain went straight to that question but that was the hard hitting reality of the situation.

You tapped on Harrys number and called him, hoping he wasn't too busy. He always told you, whenever you needed him, no matter what time, he'll always be there. But would he still want to be there when he finds out his wife has a brain tumour?

After two rings he picks up.

"Hi love, everything okay? You're lucky I was up otherwise I would've been asleep!" The soothing tones of his voice calming you down.

"Shit, H, i'm so sorry." You sobbed loudly down the phone, not being able to bravely hold it in anymore.

"Hey, hey. It's fine Y/N/N. No need to cry over it love." He coos, not fully understanding why you were having a full breakdown over potentially waking him up.

"No. No i-it's not that H." You lean on your knees and cup your hand over your temples to soothe some of the pain, from the headache that was forming.

"Okay then. What's wrong baby? You can tell me, it's alright." His voice slightly trembling, hating the sound of you heavily crying without him there to comfort you.

If you did ever cry like this either Harry was right beside you, hugging you like there's no tomorrow, or you'd get through it by yourself - if he was away. You felt selfish dumping your problems on him when he wasn't right there to comfort you through it. Today was even worse, though. Today was Harrys last concert for the Love on Tour, tour, in L.A. Not only did he have a duty to preform to his adoring fans, he was also thousands of miles away. He wouldn't be able to do anything, other than offer some calming words, but somehow, this time, you didn't see how that was going to be enough.

"I got a call from Dr Hughes." You began and taking a deep breath before continuing, only imagining where Harry's head was at with those words. "H, i'm so sorry. He - uh - he told me I have a brain tumour. He said, with surgery, it can be removed but I need to act quick. I-i'm going to see him tomorrow, but I just needed to tell you."

You expected Harry to cut in at some point, but there was only silence. He was only ever quiet when he was shocked or had nothing left to say, and it terrified you that he was feeling that way.

"Harry?" You trembled out, wondering if he was even still there.

You heard him clear his throat before talking. "Um, yeah okay."

You were taken aback by how little words he was using. You couldn't work out whether you'd rather have had him say nothing at all. Your heart strings started to break a little at the thought that he was, most likely, thinking of different ways to divorce you and so forth. His life was too precious for him to be left with a damaged wife. God knows what you'll be like after surgery, and Harry didn't need to be stuck with looking after you when he should be touring with his adoring fans.

"Sorry, H." You murmured before hanging up, knowing he wouldn't have anything to say back. You regretted not wishing him look for his last concert date tonight, but it wasn't at the forefront of mind right now. You knew he would smash it anyways - he always did.

What if that had been your last goodbye?

You placed your phone on the coffee table and hysterically cried to yourself.

••••

A few hours later and you had called your parents over, after telling them, to pick the kids up from school - seeing as you were too emotionally unstable to be doing so. It made you feel like such a disappointment not being able to be strong enough to pick up your children, but you were worried you wouldn't be able to focus when driving - and you wouldn't put your children in danger.

Your parents had arrived as quickly as they could and spent hours reassuring you that you'd be okay, and that Harry loved you too much to ever say goodbye. You had a hard time believing them though, considering Harry had said all of two words to you - none of which implied that he still loved you and was going to be there for you through it all.

It was times like this when all you wanted, and needed, was your Harry, but unfortunately that just couldn't be the case. If Harry were to leave you, you wouldn't know what to do. You have kids and you always promised Harry that none of your kids would be raised from a broken home - you just couldn't put them through that. Yet, now, it seems inevitable.

After the kids had got back from school and had dinner, which you sat around for but didn't have anything, you and your children had cuddled up to watch some Netflix. Your parents had gone home, telling you that you just needed some time alone with your children. They never questioned what was wrong, but they could tell something was up. It took watching 5 episodes of The Big Bang Theory until your children were all on the verge of sleep, and so you'd shuffled them all along to bed.

"Mummy?" Sofia asked as you turned off her main light and turned on her bed light. You walked over to her single-bed, that was decorated in princesses and flowers, and sat down next to her.

"Yes sweetheart?" You answered. Sofia had been quiet all evening, but you just assumed she had been tired.

"I missed you picking me up today." She told you with her sad eyes. You brushed her hair off her face and behind her ear.

"I know. I missed you too, but mummy had some news today that wasn't very nice and so I didn't want to upset you with me being upset." You told her, not feeling like you had to hide anything from your children.

"Are you going to be okay?" She asked sincerely, with a little wobble of her rosy lips to signify she was worried about you. You hated that your children had to check on you, and yet your husband hadn't, but you also appreciated it greatly.

You thought about how to answer her question, because it was hard to answer. Of course you were going to face complications and re-percussions, later in time, after surgery, but you also would if you didn't have surgery. It was just whether or not something went wrong in surgery, or it actually turned out the surgery was no longer viable. You wanted to tell her so badly that everything would be okay, but you also couldn't lie to her.

"Mummy's going to be just fine." You turn your head to see your gorgeous husband standing in the doorway, looking like he'd been crying due to the red puffy eyes. They were probably similar to yours, however you'd tried to hide yours from your children.

As soon as you made eye contact with Harry the tears fell freely down your face. There was no stopping them either. Emotions were flying all over the place, but the one that stood out the most was relief. You thought you'd have a runaway husband but instead he was right here. He'd flown all the way from L.A. just to see you. You had no idea what was happening with the tour but you couldn't think of anything other than the man stood in the hallway.

"Daddy!" Sofia screamed, like she'd just gained 100 pounds of energy, and jumped out of her bed to run to her dad. Her little legs could only make her run so fast but when she got there Harry was ready to scoop her up in his warm embrace.

"Ohhh I missed you, my love." Harry pressed light kisses all over her face and Sofia started squirming in his grasp, giggling as Harry continued to attack her.

"Did someone say dad is here?" You heard Will day from down the hall, but you'd buried your face in your hands, in disbelief and shock, to truly acknowledge what was going on.

You listened to the sounds of them reuniting and getting bombarded by kisses from Harry, until it got a bit too overwhelming. Harry was actually here and that was something you thought would be a distant dream, and hearing him play with your children was such a joyous thing to hear. You decided that you needed a minute away, and to yourself.

"Excuse me." You announce softly, working your way past the pile of people that were now on the floor. You wanted to laugh at how your children had tackled Harry down to the ground, but your tears prevented you from feeling that way.

You walked to your bedroom, and outside onto the small terrace that was attached to it. It let you have a stunning view of the city in the distant, but you could also had the pleasure of having the rolling hills, and stunning fields of gold, in the foreground. You shut the sliding door over, trying to get the atmosphere as quiet at possible. You rested your elbows on the stone railing and placed your hands on your forehead, before continuing your hardened sobs. Ever since the dreaded phone call this morning, you don't think you've had a second, after it, where there hasn't been a teardrop on your skin.

After 5 minutes, give or take, you heard the sliding doors open. You didn't need to turn and look to see who it was to know who it was - his comforting presence alone telling you.

You turned around quickly to see he had been stood infinitely close behind you, probably apprehensive about touching or comforting you. The way you immediately brought your arms around him, to give him a hug, took him by surprise, but within seconds he was embracing you back and tighter than ever. You buried your face in his chest as the tears continued, but he didn't seem to mind at all.

After a minute or two, hugging in comfortable silence, you tilted your head up and looked from his eyes to his gorgeous lips. He noticed you looking and started to lean himself down slowly, still being wary of how you were feeling towards him. You couldn't take being away from him any longer, and so cupped the back of his neck to bring him down faster.

The feeling of his lips on yours made you feel invincible. You forgot about all yours worries when he was pressed close against you. It was as if nothing else mattered, but only you two. He made you forget that he had been a jerk on the phone. He made you forget that you had a bloody brain tumour. He made you forget every small detail you'd been worrying over for the past 14 hours or so. Even though it only lasted for a minute; he made you forget.

The sound of smacking lips detaching one another allowed you to breathe again. He was good at making you feel breathless and savouring every minute moment he had with you. You both stared in to each others eyes and let them talk to one other. You could tell by his emerald, doe, eyes that he was unimaginably sorry, and he could tell from yours that you forgave him no questions asked.

"I thought you'd left me." You honestly let him know.

"Never, baby. I promised i'd always be there for you, and some fucking tumour, isn't going to change that." You loved that Harry could find the light in a situation like this. It's one of his charming qualities that never ceases to amaze you.

"I have th—"

"Daddy?" You hear from behind you both. You see Sofia standing there, in her cute lilac polka-dot onesie, looking at Harry with adoring eyes. She hasn't seen him in a month or so, and so seeing him, earlier than expected too, has turned her into a little sheep to follow Harry - wanting to spend every spare minute with him.

"Sof." Harry sighed, reluctantly detaching himself from around you. "I told you, sweetheart, that I need to make sure mummy's okay for a bit, alright?" He reminded her, his words filling your heart with so much love and happiness you thought it might burst.

"But daddyyy..." She whines, stomping her foot delicately on the floor.

"No Sof. It's not fair on mummy is it?" He crouched down to her level to caress her soft cheeks.

"H, it's alright. I'm alright. Go and see to her, and the boys too if they want you. I can wait."

Harry stands back up, after seeing how his daughters expression changes to a much more excited one. He walks over to you and cups both your cheeks with his large, veiny, hands.

"You're so annoying, you know that right?" Harry teases you, probably frustrated that your intimate moment, that could've turned into something more intimate, had been interrupted. He gives you a quick kiss on the lips and you pushed him along to go sort out his children.

An hour and a half later you and Harry were sat in the bath together. You were layed back against his chest and his arms, along with yours, were resting on top of your stomach. Your legs were interwoven and your head was back against Harrys shoulder, his cheek to the top of your head. You'd argue that this is more intimate that anything else - to be so desperately close to one another, and yet still hold back from all pleasurable interactions. Sure, the moments leading up to you both needing the bath had been beautiful and raw, sending all kinds of sensations flying through your body, but this was something special.

If you could freeze time, this is where you'd like to be frozen.

"Will you get angry at me if I apologise again?" Harry asked, nodding his cheek further into your hair - which apparently smelt like 'heaven' according to Harry.

"Most likely." You chuckled, knowing that you wouldn't but you'd become irate about it. You'd lost count of the amount of times that Harry had apologised to you this evening, but he said he couldn't ever put a number on how many times he should apologise because it would be too big. He vowed to use the rest of his life to show how he'll love you till the end of your time, and prove he never intended to leave you. You thought he'd proved himself enough over the past few hours he's been back, but you weren't going to stop him from showering you in more love.

"Sorry." Harry buries his head in your shoulder to hide away from your pretend wrath.

You move around in the warm, soapy bath water until you're straddling his legs. The bath water sloshed around as you moved, but luckily you were agile enough to not let any spill overboard. Harry couldn't take his eyes off your mesmerising body, and you had to tilt his chin up for him to lose contact with your chest and gain contact with your orbs.

"You're the worst." You tease him for apologising to you, again, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest up against his - hissing at the cold contact against your boobs.

"Don't I know it." He rolls his eyes and gives you a smirk, holding on to your back tighter.

"But I couldn't love you any less." You tell him, kissing his lips quickly but enough to send butterflies through your body.

"Hmm. Well that could be a compliment, depending on how much you love me already?" He asked, pointing out the flaw in your nonsense.

You thought for a minute before answering. "I love you more than you love me." You slyly smirk, knowing how badly he hates comparing your love. He's such a sore loser and finds it bruising to his ego when you say you love him more than he does you. He belly laughs at your statement, not being able to control himself.

"Not only did you just deflate my ego, and boost your narcissism, but it's cute that you actually believe what you said." Harry starts of lightheartedly but you can tell he became more serious towards the end.

"But I—"

"I don't think so Mrs Styles." He brings you even closer, which you thought was impossible.

"I love you H."

"I love you... even more." Harry returns, and you drop your head, giggling, on to his shoulder from giving up with him.

•••••

2 months later and surgery had been successful.

The day of the surgery you'd never felt more nervous for anything. The nerves you felt that day even beat your pre-wedding nerves. It was such an intense and overwhelming feeling, and none of it would have been possible if it weren't for Harry being there for you the whole time. Your children were all superstars too. They continuously showered you in love, and although it was Harry buying the gifts, they treated to you flowers whenever you were down. Whether it was a bunch of roses, a bouquet of different flowers or a single sunflower to plant in the garden, it always managed to cheer you up.

You had surgery a couple of days ago and you were still in and out of sleep, not having spoken a word yet. The morphine dosage that they gave you, along with all the other concoctions of medicine they gave you, had been really strong. The doctor had explained to you, after surgery, how you might not come around, properly, until a few days after surgery. No doubt Harry stayed by your side through all of it.

Lying subconscious in bed allowed you to think a lot. It terrified you as to how you were going to be after surgery and how dependent you were going to have to be on other people for a while. Apparently your legs and arms become really weak, because you brain has been out of action and a small proportion has been attacked by a tumour, and that scared you. You didn't want your children to see you helpless - what kind of example would that set to them? You probably would have to be fed for a small amount of time, and either use crutches or maybe a wheelchair, and you, being the strong and independent woman you are, hated that.

Today was different. You could feel it.

You woke up, from your light slumber, with a heavy presence on your hand. If you hadn't become so accustomed to the feel of Harrys hand you probably wouldn't have known what it was, but you'd recognise that soft, bony, feel anywhere.

You open your eyes slowly, letting your eyes adjust to the light in their own time. You noticed you were in your own private room, something that they had very limited numbers of in hospitals here, and it was no doubt due to Harrys constant nagging and persistency that you were here. Looking to your right you confirmed that it was Harry holding your hand. He was slouched in a chair, facing your direction, sleeping, but holding your hand nevertheless. It took another second to realise Sofia was asleep in his lap, looking like the princess she was. There was another few chairs in the corner of the room and you realised your sons were all sat on them. Thomas and Eric resting their heads on each other and Will sat with his hood pulled up over his face.

It was beyond comforting to know your family was still here and waiting patiently for you.

You softly ran your finger over Harrys hand, trying to cause a disturbance. You'd attempted to voice your actions but nothing came out, due to your throat being so dry. You noticed a cup of water next to your bedside table and decided to help yourself. You turned the best you could, with Harry still holding on to your hand, and then moved your arm to the water. It was hard, really hard, but you managed to do it. You held the plastic cup as firmly as you could, with your trembling fingers, and sat up a bit further to take a sip. You managed a few sips before your fingers gave way and you dropped the plastic cup to the floor, spilling the rest of the water on the floor.

The noise wasn't loud but obviously loud enough to wake people up. Everyone except Harry - whom didn't wake up for anyone. He could sleep through an earthquake if he tried.

"Mum!" "Mummy!" A chorus of your children's voices echoed throughout the room, eventually waking Harry up in the process. Thomas and Eric came over to stand next to your bedside, taking your hand in both of theirs. Will rested on the end of the bed, giving you a soft smile which you returned. Sofia jumped across from Harrys lap on to your bed and engulfed you in a hug.

"Umph." You let out the noise when she jumped on you, still feeling a little sensitive all over your body.

"Hey, hey. Sof. You need to be careful with mummy, alright?" Harry comes and removes her slightly off of you, so you don't have to carry as much weight.

"Sorry mummy." Sofia apologises, going to sit next to you, her little legs dangling off the bed and miles from the floor. You gave her a small smile to signify you were okay and that you didn't need her apology. Harry stood nearby her in case she fell.

"How are you mum?" Will asked. Even though Will acted like he was too cool to get involved, you knew that he did honestly care and his question warmed your heart that he was taking an interest.

"A bit achey, not going to lie. I also find it really hard to move my legs and arms, but that was to be expected." You try and say with a strong and brave voice, but you didn't even convince yourself that it was.

"Will, buddy?" Harry asks, catching Will's attention. "Could you maybe take Sofia and the boys to the vending machine?" He hands over a handful of loose change. "Just get some crisps or chocolate for yourselves, please?"

Will obviously understood that his dad was asking for a couple of minutes alone with you.

"Sure. Cmon Sof." Will cheerily spoke, holding out his hand for her. Harry helped her off the bed, and Thomas and Eric both squeezed your hand to show they were here for you. Once they all left, Sofia rambling on about her favourite chocolate bar, Harry came and sat down by you.

He wrapped both his large hands in your smaller, and frailer, one. He leant down to plant a long-lasting kiss to your forehead, the sparks remaining even after he'd moved away. He then rested his forehead lightly on yours, looking in to your eyes the best he could from this angle. You had a feeling he just wanted to be as close to you as possible. You'd be lying if you said you didn't want the same thing.

"I missed you." Harry whispered against your face, your lips ghosting each other.

"You've been here the whole time, H." You remind him.

"But it wasn't the same. Not being able to see these beautiful, dreamy, eyes. Not being able to annoy you whenever I want. Not being able to cuddle up next to you in bed every night. Not being able to hear your angelic laugh." He stops to look down at your lips. "And not being able to kiss these pretty things." He nudged his nose against yours.

"Well nothing's stopping you now." You smirk.

Harry lets out a small chuckle before rushing down to meet your lips with his. It was as if it was the first time he was getting to do it. He was so excited and you could feel the happiness radiate off him as his lips moulded against yours. You had to pull away to catch your breath.

"Yeah. Definitely missed that." Harry stated, making you chuckle.

You tried to move your hands up to cup his cheek but it was difficult to raise it past a certain point, your muscles being too weak to allow it. You sadly sighed to yourself and flopped your arm back on the bed beside you, closing your eyes in disappointment.

A second later you feel Harrys hand lifting your arm. You open your eyes to glance at him and he's reading your facial expressions to make sure what he's doing isn't hurting you in any way.

"Together." Harry firmly tells you, finally resting your palm against his cheek. He leans against it and you can feel the warmth radiating off his skin. Harry makes sure to hold your hand in place so you aren't doing all the hard-work.

"Sorry." You look at him through your sad eyes.

"For what, darling?" Harry looks deep in to your eyes, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"For all this." Your nod your head down to your body, referring to how you were semi-immobile. "I know it's not what you signed up for, but—"

"But I love you no matter what." Harry finishes your sentence for you, not wanting to hear your criticise yourself any more than you already had. "This isn't your fault, baby. You know that. I know that. Everyone knows that. We're going to get through this. You're not alone. That, I can promise you."

His words brought as tears to your eye but Harry manages to kiss it away, leaving him with salty lips, before it can truly fall.

••••

2 weeks later, you were out of the hospital now and back home. It was been very overwhelming the last couple of weeks.

You still were unable to walk properly without the support of crutches, or a wheelchair and sometimes Harry. It was a blessing in disguise that your children were still at school, because it meant that you were able to have a lot of time to yourself, and with Harry, without constant interruptions or fussing over you.

Your children had been brilliant. They helped around the house when necessary, and every weekend, when they didn't have school, they delivered you breakfast in bed. Sofia made your cards, that had messages inside that were all spelt wrong, and drew family portraits for you. Sometimes you'd end up with a blue face and green hair, but you didn't love it any less.

As for Harry. Well he was just another level of amazing. He cleaned around the house, even when you insisted you could. He was very firm and layed out the ground rules early on. You weren't to move without his assistance and it had to be with good reason. I.e. apparently getting yourself a glass of water isn't good enough. He picked up the kids from school and dropped them off, sometimes you'd come along if your medication hadn't made you too drowsy. He did allow you to help cook dinner, what with stirring the pan, to let you feel like you were doing something, but he didn't want to overwork you.

Harry and yourself were currently out in the park, and it was very amusing.

You were in your comfy clothes, whilst Harry was in his running gear. He was running laps of a swimming-pool-sized pond, whilst you were walking indescribably slow with your crutches to assist you. Every time he jogged past you he would joke about how you were 'catching him up', but that was far from the truth. You'd barely gone around half of the pond, whereas Harry had done four laps of it, so far. You found the whole thing hilarious.

Harry was catching up to you again and you attempted to go a bit faster to make it seem like you were racing him.

"Oh I see. You're trying to get away from me now, huh?" Harry shouts from behind you. You laughed to yourself as you continue to place the crutches out in front of you before moving yourself forwards. "I don't think so.." Harrys voice becoming more apparent now, from obviously being able to move faster than you.

You suddenly feel his arms wrap around yours and he twirls you around in the air.

"Harry!"

"I've got you. I won." He attacks your neck with kisses, probably leaving a mark or two. Acting like this with him makes it look like you were still falling in love with each other, not being married and have four kids already. You wouldn't want it any other way though.

"You only win because you're a sore loser." You tease him as he places you back down on the floor.

"Shut up." He mumbles.

You go down to pick up your crutches, which you'd accidentally let go of, but are stopped by Harry.

"It's alright love i've got them." Harry tells you, knowing how hard it is for you to bend over and multitask by picking something up.

"No. It's okay. I want to try." You shyly tell him, feeling stupid that you're even requesting it. Harry proudly smiles at you before you lean down to pick them up.

Harrys hand ghosts over the small of your back, just on stand-by for support in case you need it. You let out a groan half-way down, not wanting to give up but realising that this was more difficult than anticipated.

"You've got this baby. Keep going." Harry comforted you to carry on, even when he knew you were struggling, because he knows you can do it. The mere thought gives you enough strength to keep going and power through the ache.

With one final push you're able to pick them up and stand back up. Harry slinks his arms around your waist and picks you up so he's carrying you around his torso. Your legs instinctively cross over his back, and your arms find way to his neck.

Without any words Harrys lips press against yours passionately, and you know that he is proud of you.

••••

A year later had come another milestone for you.

You'd successfully managed to drive the kids to school, and back home. Harry had sat in the passenger seat, making sure to help you with the wheel or change of gears, throughout. You were both anxious. You, more about ending up having an accident and Harry more for wanting you to prove to yourself that you could do it. But you did it.

The kids had been over the moon to hear that their mum was driving them to and from school, complaining that their dads jokes were getting too old now. Harry was mildly offended and continued with his jokes as punishment.

You'd forgotten the route and ended up at a pig-farm, upon trying to get to school, but Harry found it funny and it made you relax. Minor-amnesia was a product of the surgery, and it was times when you were trying to drive somewhere that it became an issue. Other times it was actually quite useful. For example when you'd genuinely forgotten someones name, you can blame it on the surgery, or if you were meant to collect something and had forgotten you'd be politely excused.

After having dinner with the kids, which was an Indian takeaway from your favourite, you made sure they all went to bed before spending some time with Harry downstairs. He'd mentioned how he needed to talk to you about some things this evening.

Both of you were snuggled up on the sofa, with you practically lying on top of Harry. Harry had a can of beer in his hand and your glass of water was carefully placed on the floor. You'd been advised not to drink alcohol for a while, just until the migraines settle down.

"H? You alright? You've been very quiet." You asked, as you kept your eyes on the TV where the BBC News was playing. You weren't really watching it, but it was just there to fill the background noise with anything other than silence.

"Um, yeah." He clears his throat. "I've been thinking a lot lately."

"About?" You ask, not exactly being able to read Harrys mind.

"Life. You. Kids. The future.." He answers, but you can sense he his nervous as his heart is beating considerably faster than usual.

"Okay?" You press for him to continue.

"I'm going to give it all up." He just blurts out, catching you if guard and making you stop breathing for a few seconds.

You twist around so you're sat crossed legged over his legs. "W-what do you mean?" You ask, confused over his proposal.

"I mean, I quit. I'm done with that part of my life." He answers as a matter of factly.

You close your eyes and shake your head to try and process what's actually happening right now.

"H? What are you doing?" You ask, flabbergasted. "Music is your life.."

"No, Y/N. You are my life. Those children, sleeping soundly upstairs, are my life. Music is a passion and a relaxation. It is a way to express my emotions when I don't have you around."

"But—"

"I know, I know. I'll miss the touring and meeting all the amazing fans, but leaving you is just something i'm not willing to do anymore."

A few tears slip down your cheeks when you realise what you're doing.

"This is all my fault." You begin to cry, covering your face with your palms to hide yourself from Harry.

"Hey, Y/N/N, no it's not. You hear me? It's not." Harry tugs your hands away from your face so he can see your beautiful face. "Look at me, darling." He tells you more than asks you.

"Sor—" You start.

"Sshh. I don't want to hear it. I mean, you having surgery is part of the reason, but there are so many other things that are bigger than that. Y/N/N, I love you so so much. More than you could ever believe and I just want to spend the rest of my life with you now. Of course i'll continue to write, produce and publish music, but i'm just not up for touring, like I did, anymore. From now on I want to become the family man. I want to be there every day for our children, no matter what. I need them so much more than they could ever need me."

"But money H..?" You sigh, even though your spirit is so happy from Harrys insight into the future.

"That is not for you to worry about, right now, alright? I've been planning this for a while now and I have things in place and such. I just needed to tell you, because your my other half - my better half - and I felt you deserved to be involved."

It went quiet for a little bit as you let everything Harrys told you, so far, sink in. You'd stopped crying, mainly because Harry wasn't giving your tears a chance to run down your face. You started to smile to yourself at a life where 365 days of a year you can wake up next to your husband.

"What you smiling at, gorgeous?" Harry chuckled, caressing your cheek.

"You." You cheese. "And how I get to be with you for the rest of my days."

"I can't wait to start living the rest of my life with you." Harry softly says, kissing your nose briefly.

Rest of your lives. You could get used to that.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles husband #husband!harry #dadrry #dad!harry styles #dad harry styles #masterlist harry styles

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 6 months

Text

You don't need to worry about the ATSV fandom dying. As someone whose been in the Marvel fandom over ten years - I can assure you this is natural.

The ATSV Fandom Isn't Dead: A brief look into the science of fandoms.

[me standing beside Hobie beaming my thoughts of love and adoration into his head like I'm professor x]

A lot of people are afraid of the ATSV dying - and I don't blame them.

In the era of shows releasing all in one day, or movies coming to streaming almost immediately - it's not hard to say we're in an era were content is consumed at ridiculously rapid rates.

I mean, this time last year Wednesday was breaking records on Netflix. Where's the hype now?

I know you see it too, there's less posts everyday in the Hobie tag, less screenshot breakdowns, etc etc etc.

But I'm here to tell you - The ATSV fandom is doing just fine. Better than fine. All of this is meant to happen.

Let me put it into perspective.

ATSV released on June 2nd - it's November.

ATSV released a little over six months ago.

For reference: The Avengers (2012) was released on May 4th.

The Avengers DVD wasn't available for purchase until SEPTEMBER 25th - almost SIX months later.

The time that the Hobie fandom has formed and existed - is the same amount of time people had to wait just to see The Avengers again.

Large periods of time where tags only get three posts a day TOPS was nothing to fear. xReaders and fanfics held the fandom over until the next trailer, the next sneak peek or leak.

Prior to the release of streaming, only a little more than ten years ago - it was NATURAL for a fandom to wait six months before even seeing the movie for a second time.

And mind you - streaming didn't exist. If you wanted to see The Avengers again, you had to go out and BUY it. $26.99.

If you wanted to order it online - you'd have to get it shipped to you. Before Disney plus, we watched on BlueRay Discs.

And the fandom was fine and healthy.

If a fandom that doesn't even have a DVD release can keep up content for six months, I think we'll be fine.

But I'll admit - there's still the question:

If the ATSV fandom is 'doing fine' then where is everyone going? Why are the tags getting slower?

The answer is simple:

FANDOM BIOLOGY

I LOVE social sciences and the systems people create and how they work - even unintentionally.

And I have a theory - one about the natural evolution and regeneration of fandom. Hear me out -

When it comes to ATSV:

We are leaving the Analysation Phase, the phase in which content creation is centered around deciphering and breaking down the most recent installment in the fandom.

During this phase usually see art of newer characters, new ships, meta breakdowns, easter egg point-outs.

We were in that phase.

Once the Analysation Phase dies down, usually main content creators may remain. The intermediate or liminal period.

The intermediate is usually when you'll see more x-reader art pop-up, the levels of fanart evening out as artists return to their favorite characters - usually incorporating any new ones they gained from the last installment.

Shitposts usually also become popular around this time, as the shock and weight of the story wear off, and we're more able to joke about the storyline a lot more light-heartedly.

That's why the intermediate point is often see as the passion 'dying out'.

When in fact, it is the fandom getting comfortable. Resting for the next phase.

And after a few months, the next phase comes:

The Speculation Phase:

The Speculation Phase cannot come until the Analysation Phase is over.

During the Analysation Phase the fandom begins to breakdown and digest the writers intentions. They integrate the new character into the story, and the fandom.

As the audience and fandom talk amongst each other, we get more solid ideas of who the characters are, what their motivations might be, and most important of all-

What they might do.

In the Speculation Phase we turn from the last installment - and start looking towards the future.

Let's take Hobie for example.

Looking at the timeline of the Hobie fandom, we can see a progression.

Originally taken as a punk-rockstar and little more, throughout the months the fandom began posting things about punk culture, the 70's, Hobie's motivation in the comics, and how that all correlates to him.

As the fandom analyzed, the collective zeitgeist and understanding of Hobie grew into something a lot more sound, and telling.

We looked at the parellels he provides in the story, and what kind of person he is.

And because if that we have seen a marked improvement in people's contextual understanding of Hobie - as a punk and a hero.

And now that we can understand him - we can predict him.

The same goes for Miguel - over the months, a lot of us have began to question if we know him as well as we think we do , if we really know the kinda person he is -

And if we really know what he's doing to do.

That's where the Speculation Phase comes in.

The Speculation Phase in fandom is when we see some of the most passion - and instead of tapering off overtime, it builds. More and more until the next release.

The Speculation Phase is when the fandom takes the analysis' and from there, they begin to theorize.

Now that we understand, we can begin to predict.

And this is arguably one of the most interesting parts in a fandoms natural ecosystem.

During the Speculation Phase, we can see a number of diverse opinions appear.

As more and more creators begin to gather their understanding, tips from the writers, new released news, and past comic book arcs, we start to see dozens of triguing paths the writers can take us on.

As more news releases, the more hype people get. I mean - imagine how you'll feel when they release the first new poster of Hobie, or Miles? Or when we get to see Miles.G in the trailer?

And with each new poster, or trailer, we're given clues. The theorizes develop more. And the plot thickens.

It's all natural.

So I can understand the fear. Only getting one or two new posts when you visit the Hobie tag can be a bummer. But it's natural and it's GOOD.

Y'all, we need to conserve our energy. We are in the liminal phase. And they never last long.

With the news of the voice actors back in the studio, and a cliff-hanger like we have - I can assure you, it's only a matter of time before we begin to see the theories, the trailer breakdowns, the people guessing what Miguel might do, or exactly how much tech Hobie is hiding.

And when that time comes we need to be READY. I can already feel it on the horizon.

I really wonder what they'll do with all that left over Hobie concept art.

Plus with explosion of Hobie approval, I wonder if they'll add him in even more. Hobie fan-service anyone?

Hmmm...

But chill y'all, we're on the right track -

-------------------------------------

If you read this far, as always THANK YOU SO MUCH!! And as a token of my appreciation, I hand you this Hobie. Hold him gently please

Bye 💗

#no proofread ever ever EVER #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #Miles morales #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #peter parker

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artificial-transmutations · 8 months

Text

Beating Recession

Recession sucked, that much was clear to Logan even before he checked his email inbox. When he saw a few replies to his job applications from the last days, he sighed. He didn't need to open the mails to know that the news was bad, but he did so anyway.

"We regret to inform you..." - Logan didn't even read on. He had lost his job as an apprentice electrician about half a year ago. The company was going under, and Logan, the youngest and least experienced worker, was the first to go. That's how it was in this business. Since then, he had applied to every single position that came up - but apparently, the current economic situation was so bad that nobody needed another worker.

Logan had hoped that his apprenticeship would get him a job, but the fact that he was only 20 and had not much practical experience hurt him. Slowly, money was becoming a pretty big problem. Whatever savings he had (for some real estate of his own! As if that was going to happen!) had melted away over the last months. His rent was due, and he had no income.

In fact, he was one month late with his rent already, and although his landlord had been cool about it, Logan did not see how he would be able to keep his apartment. He really, really wanted to avoid moving back in with his parents who had their own problems, too.

So, what was he going to do? There wasn't much more to do than keep looking for a job, even though his chances were slim.

He opened LinkedOut and looked for openings, just as he had done multiple times before this week. The sparse list of jobs had not changed, so Logan scrolled on.

He was about to give up again when a listing caught his eye.

"Escape unemployment today! Change™ job agency will find the perfect job, for the perfect you. Apply here!"

He had heard of such agencies before, and the results were not pretty. Usually, they just took the applicants' data and sold it on. They would claim to have found a job for you, but it usually wouldn't work out, and the applicant would have paid money for this useless service. Still, Logan was curious enough to click the link. If they wanted money, he would back out immediately - it was not like he had any to spare.

To Logan's big surprise, when he clicked the link, a new page opened, with a web-based chat interface. Before he could close the tab again, there was already a message in the window. It read:

"Kevin: Hey, and welcome to the Change™ job agency. My name is Kevin. How may I help you today?"

It was a nice surprise that they didn't try to sell him anything or even ask for his data before he had entered the website. Well, no harm done. He might as well give them a try. Hesitating slightly, Logan's fingers hovered over the keyboard before he typed:

"Hi. I'm Logan and I'm looking for a new job."

The answer came quickly, but not so quickly that Logan would suspect the other person to be a chatbot. After some moments, Kevin's reply appeared on the screen:

"Great. What kind of job are you looking for? And what kind of salary are we talking?"

Logan considered the questions. This was probably the point where they would ask him for his data. He silently cursed his excessive caution. Of course, they had to ask these questions. How else should they offer him anything?

"Uhm. My last job was as an apprentice electrician, but at this point I would be pretty happy about just any job. The salary should be high enough to pay my rent."

Logan hesitated before hitting enter. He didn't want to come over as quite so desperate, but the truth was, he was.

"Okay, no problem. Do you have a preferred working sector?"

What a weird question. Why did it matter what industry he preferred?

"Uhm, not really. I guess anything is fine."

"Very well. Before I look up what's there in our database, I would need some basic information about you. Namely gender, age, ethnicity and sexual orientation."

"Wait. What does my sexual orientation have to do with a job? Besides, why do you need to know my ethnicity? Is this even legal?"

Logan had typed furiously and pressed enter before thinking about his reply.

"I understand your confusion. We here at the Change™ job agency strive to find not only a job, but the best job for the best you, so we need to know what we're working with. It wouldn't be very appropriate to apply a person as an actress who is really good at sports, now would it? Of course, you have to understand that your answers are confidential and will not be disclosed to any third parties, especially not your future employer."

That was fishy deluxe. Logan really didn't want to feed some unknown job agency all that highly personal information. On the other hand,... what did he have to lose?

"Well, I guess it can't hurt. Uhm. I'm a male, 20 years old, I would call myself white and I'm heterosexual."

"Wonderful. One last question: Are you comfortable with nudity and public sexual activities?"

"Wait, WHAT? I mean, uhm, sure, I guess? I mean, why should I need that?"

"This question is purely to determine if we should also have a look in the adult entertainment section of our job offerings. Alright Logan, please stand by while I enter your data into our search engine."

Logan leaned back. He felt a bit uneasy about all that. But it was not like his answers could lead them directly to his apartment, so he felt relatively safe.

A minute or so passed, and Logan started to think that he had been tricked after all, but just as he was about to close the tab, a new message appeared.

"Sorry for the delay, I had a few calls. We found two jobs that could be a fit. The first one is an office job in a big insurance company. To be honest, it's not that good of a fit and it doesn't pay very well either."

"That's fine." Logan wrote. He was incredibly on edge now. Could it really be so easy to find a new job? And he even had a choice?

"What's the other one?" he added to his previous message.

"Okay, the other job is a bit more unconventional, but we have the feeling it could be a great match. It's an actor position in the porn industry, at the famous XXX Incorporated."

"Porn? What? Are you serious? I mean, I don't have anything against porn or nudity or whatever, but I'm not sure if this is the kind of job I want."

Logan felt mixed feelings. The prospect of being some office drone sounded pretty uninteresting and a low pay wasn't all that good either. But a porn actor? Logan had to admit, the thought felt somewhat interesting, but he doubted he had what it took for that? Weren't porn stars famously hung and well-built? That was certainly not Logan. Just as he pondered those thoughts, Kevin's answer appeared:

"I understand Sir. So, should we continue with the first job opening then?"

Logan bit his lip, but the curiosity got the better of him.

"Wait. What does the second job entail? I mean, I'm not exactly... equipped for the porn business."

"Well, as I have said: It's an actor position, so you would star in some new adult entertainment productions. While I understand your modesty, our records show that you are more than adequately gifted for this kind of job."

Logan felt confused. He absentmindedly scratched his crotch before he replied:

"Uhm, sorry, I don't think you understand. I don't really think my..." Logan paused. Was he really going to write that? It was embarrassing, but at least he could be reasonably sure he would never meet this Kevin in real life. So, he continued:

"... penis is big enough for such a position."

The answer came promptly.

"Really? Better have a look to be sure ;-)"

A winking smiley? That wasn't very professional. Actually, the whole sentence wasn't. Still, Logan couldn't stop himself from glancing at his crotch. What he saw made him take a double take. His soft cock was forming a visible and ample bulge in his jeans. Logan knew that he was slightly smaller than average, so that was ridiculous. It was almost a... a porn star-sized bulge!

He stared at his package, but it wasn't growing any smaller. With trembling hands, he opened his jeans. Immediately, a well-filled pair of boxers escaped the confinement of his jeans. The dick print of his soft member was clearly visible in his underwear, and it wasn't just much bigger than Logan remembered. It was among the biggest bulges he had ever seen in his life!

His hands explored the impressive manhood through his underwear and felt every centimeter of the hardening dick. He had no idea what had caused this growth, but he wasn't complaining. Before he could interact more with it, however, he noticed another message on the screen.

"Are you still there, Sir?"

"Sorry, yes." Logan hurried to reply. What was he going to write? "I was below average just a few moments ago but now I have one of the biggest cocks in human history"?

Instead, Kevin answered.

"Good! I trust you had a chance to inspect your assets?"

"Uhm, yes."

"So, have you made up your mind, or should I look into the office position?"

Logan was torn. He wasn't sure what he had seen just a moment ago. Still, his enormous cock that was half-hard in his boxers was there, undeniably.

"Let's go with the porn star position." Logan finally typed, and his heart was racing.

"Very good! Now, as I mentioned, the position is in the adult entertainment sector. Do you know the company XXX Incorporated?"

Logan thought quickly about it before replying: "No, sorry, never heard of them."

"That is not at all surprising, since they specialize in the adult sector for homosexual men. According to your data, you identify as heterosexual. I hope that won't be a problem?"

Of course, there was a catch. Logan had heard about these gay for pay people and he hesitated yet again. They paid well, supposedly, but...

"Uhm. Would that mean I would need to be on the receiving end?" He wasn't too close-minded and could imagine kissing another man if he had to, perhaps even receiving a blow job from one. But having another person fuck him in the ass? No, that was way beyond his comfort zone.

"I believe the technical term you are looking for is 'to bottom'." Kevin replied, and added another message shortly after:

"But the company is, in fact, looking for a 'top' actor. They put it like this: 'We are looking for a well-built top for our new productions.'"

Logan was relieved. While he was a gold star gay man (why did he put 'heterosexual'? That was utter bullshit!), he was a strict top. This position sounded better and better. Still, one thing raised some new doubts.

"Hold on. I'm hung like a horse, but I wouldn't say I'm very muscular or even fit. I'm not much of a gym goer."

"Are you sure ;-)?"

Again, with the winking smiley! Kevin sounded so very professional most of the time, but then there were these messages. Logan scratched the back of his shoulder with some effort. Whenever he raised his arms so high the mountains of muscle on his upper arms danced and made it difficult to reach his back. Logan suddenly realized that something had changed - again! His shirt strained against his muscular chest, and as he lifted his shirt, he could see some cobblestone abs on an otherwise flat stomach. His calves had become thicker and strong. His jeans, which had felt slightly loose earlier, now seemed to be getting tighter.

Logan had never been very athletic. His body was lean, but not fit or muscular. That had certainly changed. When he looked at himself, he hardly recognized himself anymore. A huge dick, and a studly body.

Logan shook his head and let the shirt fall again. Whatever was going on, it was not a bad thing, was it?

"Alright, so I'm a buff top with a big cock. Is there anything else?" he smiled as he wrote that.

"Actually, there is one further requirement, but given your cooperation so far I don't believe it will be much of a problem either." Kevin replied, in his professional tone again.

"And what would that be?" Logan was intrigued.

"The company is especially looking for a, and I cite, 'huge, dominant Black top with large dick. Intellectual capabilities are not required'. Are you feeling up to that task? ;-)"

This time, Logan immediately raised his shirt to watch his body change. As soon as he read the words, his skin began darkening, first a golden bronze and then a rich black. It was a gradual change but happened very quickly. His muscles became even more defined, and his body hair thickened and grew even darker.

He didn't know what 'intellectual capabilities' meant, but as his body grew larger and thicker, he felt a strange fog entering his mind. It was a little unsettling at first, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. His usual thoughts quickly became overshadowed by his raising libido. As he grabbed his huge, Black throbbing cock, a dominant smirk crept on his mouth.

He turned his attention back to the computer and typed:

"Yeah, baby. I think I can make that happen. Just tell me who to fuck and I'll be there!"

He saw Kevin reply with a street address and a date and time, but Logan decided he would read that later. Now, his cock demanded his entire attention. He absentmindedly noticed his webcam turning on but paid it little attention. If Kevin wanted to watch him jerk his fat cock, he was very welcome to. After all, he just helped him find the job of his life!

That's certainly a way to beat recession! Also check out this blog!

#male transformation #muscle transformation #straight to gay #dumbing down #racial transformation

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

WIBTA to refuse tutoring my nephew even though I'm not sure what he did wrong?

So I (24, F) have been tutoring my nephew/the son of my mum's close friend (10, M) for a couple of weeks now. His mum pays me for the hours I spend teaching him and honestly despite the kid being obviously ADHD I don't really mind him getting constantly distracted because it's clear he still understands what I'm explaining to him, so we had a pretty good relationship up until this point as I was way more understanding of him than any other tutors or even his own mother, although I don't really know him THAT well.

During our tutoring sessions my cat, Pudding (14, F) would usually stay in the same room with us. She likes to stay in the same room as other people but usually doesn't let strangers pet her and will go away if bothered too much. Well, Nephew being distractable as he is would often go up to her to pet her as he would answer a question of mine or just as a thing between answering questions. Strangely enough Pudding did let him do that and didn't seem to be THAT bothered by it, so I too ignored it and just let him do it.

Now, here's the issue: A few days ago after we finished our tutoring session for that day I left the room to wash my hands in the kitchen since we were eating snacks during the session. My house's kitchen is literally DIRECTLY next to the room where we have our tutoring sessions so it couldn't have taken longer than 10-15 seconds from me leaving before I heard a cry from Pudding. "Oh, she must've finally gotten annoyed with Nephew's behaviour, I'll tell him to stop bothering her." I thought to myself as I finished washing my hands, yet before I was even able to make it back to the room I heard a second, much louder meow, the kind of meow a cat only makes if they ACTUALLY get hurt. So now, properly concerned, I round the corner into the room and see Nephew sitting right next to where Pudding is still laying, now with her ears flat and looking at him. He must've seen the confusion on my face because the first thing he said was "We were just playing." to which I blurted out that clearly she was not in the mood to play and walked over to check on her. While doing that, I noticed that there was a blanket slightly covering Pudding's hind legs, so I assumed maybe Nephew accidentally put his weight there without realizing she had her paws there. I VERY GENTLY pulled back the blanket and VERY GENTLY touched her legs to see if they were hurt, and then she BIT me and finally ran away. Of course I don't blame her, and in fact that only strengthened my concern because Pudding is a VERY polite cat, if she's bothered by anything she will just leave and if she bites for play it's always very gentle and doesn't leave a mark, this was not that. Afterwards I couldn't get any useful information out of Nephew as to what exactly he did, he just kept saying that he was petting her and she got annoyed which was clearly not true, so I dropped the subject and just sent him home.

Now it's been a few days since that happening and I've checked on Pudding's legs a few times since then. She doesn't respond to me touching them at all and she doesn't limp or anything so either she didn't get injured, or the legs were never the issue in the first place and me touching her was simply the last straw in that already stressful situation for her. Despite that however, I find myself not wanting to have Nephew over for tutoring anymore as I'm afraid that something like this might happen again when I'm literally gone from the room for less than a minute. It really annoys me that I have absolutely no clue what happened while I was gone, I don't even have a way to know if Nephew did whatever he did intentionally or by accident since him saying they were just "playing" could very well be just his honest perception of the situation, or him lying and being vague on purpose because he knows he did something wrong. The reason why I feel like Nephew might be lying about doing bad things on purpose is because Nephew's family has two cats, so I really feel like he should know better already and be more careful. Another point is the fact that this literally happened the INSTANT I was gone from the room, almost as if he was waiting for me to be gone to do something (as far as I recall I haven't ever left him alone with Pudding before this point), though admittedly that could just be unlucky coincidence. Plus, I find it REALLY hard to believe he'd be able to make Pudding cry like that on accident, I've genuinely NEVER heard her make a sound like that, ever, not even at the vet's. On the other hand however I know that he was failing his math class badly before I started tutoring him and I'm almost certain he'd start to fail again if I stopped helping him. Not only that, I'd have to come up with a lie about being too busy to do tutoring or something else since obviously I can't tell his mother "Hey your son might've done something bad but I'm not really sure and don't really have any proof and can't even tell if it was really intentional or not", since I realize how ridiculous that sounds despite still genuinely feeling incredibly uncomfortable about the whole situation.

So with all of that out of the way, would I be the asshole for denying him my tutoring services just because I feel uncomfortable about the idea of him possibly hurting my cat on purpose, even when I don't really have any proof that he did it on purpose or would do it again?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 4 months

Text

Kinkuary Day 6

AN: Let it be known that this Chris lives in my head rent-free. I know exploring free use with a dominant partner isn't a new concept, but I still don't see it explored as much, so I thought it would be fun to try my hand at it. Especially with the king of the service doms.

Synopsis: Everything sucks. Today might be one of the worst days of your life (and that's against some stiff competition). Fortunately for you, you have a boyfriend who is more than happy to distract you.

General tags and warnings: Christopher Bang/Bang Chan x Fem! Reader, established relationship, some angst early on but, nothing too bad imo, Christopher being the nation's best boyfriend and that's it. This is pretty much porn with very little plot.

Primary kink: Free use.

Smut tags and warnings: Chris struggling to relinquish control lmao but, Soft Dom! Chris nonetheless, sub! Reader but she does take charge quite a bit in this, free use, facesitting, slight overstimulation (f. receiving), piv sex without a condom, dirty talk, lots of praise and petnames because it's Chris, Daddy kink, creampie and nipple play (f. receiving).

Word count: 2k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

You're surprised you're able to still trudge through your front door after the day you've had. Between completely forgetting about an assignment that was due today, six separate customers yelling at you and your phone screen shattering, saying today has been a bad day would be putting it kindly. You've never wanted to just disappear to a cottage in the countryside more. You're sure you could convince Chris to leave with you.

Speaking of which, the sight of your boyfriend on your shared couch does help ease some of the overall terribleness that has been weighing you down all day. Dropping your bag, you make your way over to him. Wrapping your arms around his broad, solid body while you nuzzle against his neck. His mere presence is enough to relax the tension in your shoulders and soothe the anxiety that never seems to quite go away.

“Hi baby. Didn't know you were home. How was your day?” He asks, taking off his headphones. Placing them and his laptop on your coffee table, which does make you pout a little since he's no longer in your arms. However, he does turn to you and you're struck with just how soft and handsome he looks. That, combined with his question, makes your throat burn and your eyes start to sting.

“Horrible,” you mutter, nestling yourself into his chest and sighing contently when he rubs your back and happily crushes you to his frame. It's easy to forget everything when he holds you like this. All the shitty professors, entitled customers and piles of coursework fade away and there's nothing in your mind but, Chris.

“I'm sorry, baby. Do you want to talk about it? How can I make it better?” God, does he have any idea how irrevocably in love with him you are? Sometimes, you think you might have been some hero in a past life for him to wind up in your life. However, you mull his offer over before an idea finally sets in.

“Lavender?” You ask, blinking up at him and pressing yourself as close to him as humanly possible. Clutching at his simple, thin shirt while you wait for his answer.

“Are you sure? You have had a pretty shitty day so I don't know–”

“Yes, Daddy. I'm sure. So, lavender?” You don't mean to cut him off but, you really do need this right now. His concern is sweet and you always appreciate it but, you just need to shut your brain off for a few hours.

Exhilaration creeps up your spine as you watch the way his face shifts when your words register to him. His hold on you tightening marginally but you notice it all the same.

“Okay, lavender.”

That's all it takes for you to launch yourself into his lap. Nearly toppling both of you over in the process but, Chris steadies you while you make yourself at home in his lap. Holding his face in your hands while you slot your mouth against his. It's messy and more eagerness than anything on your end but, it feels so good to just kiss him again. Chris does try to bring some order into your uncoordinated liplock, guiding your mouth against his while his hands rest on your hips.

Sex wasn't on your mind before you walked through the front door but, now? Grinding down on the hardness you can feel starting to form under you while you explore Chris's mouth? Desire twists like a knife in the pit of your stomach. Your clit throbbing with every clumsy brush against his lap and your walls starting to clench and unclench almost painfully. It's probably some record how quickly your panties become a mess while you hump against Chris for dear life.

“Off please,” you breathe once the two of you separate to catch your respective breaths. Saliva smeared across both of your mouths and you would dive back in if you weren't so focused on getting his shirt off. Luckily for you, Chris is just as impatient as you are so he tugs it off within seconds. Tossing it to be forgotten on your living room floor.

You can't help the moan that bubbles out of you at the sight of his bare chest. You've seen it thousands of times and it still never fails to turn your blood molten. Palming as much of him as your hands can, you litter his neck with kisses and nips. Whimpering into his skin when his hands drift from your hips to grab and knead your ass over your work skirt. His hips shallowly thrusting up into you. Fuck, you're already so tightly wound.

A startled noise leaves Chris when you (gently) shove him onto his back but, he doesn't complain otherwise. Just watches you with a mixture of want and curiosity through his curly hair. His eyes widen when you eventually shuffle up his body until you're hovering over his beautiful face. A shudder runs through you when his tongue darts out to lick his full lips before his dark eyes meet your own again.

You're too desperate to care about getting undressed so, you hurriedly shove your panties to the side before easing yourself onto his face. The first touch his mouth against your drenched, puffy folds sends you reeling. You grab the back of the couch in an attempt to steady yourself but, Chris doesn't give you a chance. Lapping and sucking at you with so much intensity from the get go that you can already feel your thighs starting to quiver.

“Ah, Daddy,” you whimper when he decides to focus all of his attention and energy on your clit. “Fuck, oh my god,” comes your broken moan when he attaches himself to it. Licking and drawing patterns into that you couldn't hope to decipher at the moment when it feels like you're able to break into a million, little pieces soon. It's all so lewd and obscene and hot. The wet sounds of him eating you coupled with your wanton noises of pleasure seeming to echo throughout your entire apartment.

Your hips move on their own accord. Using his unfairly gifted mouth and cute nose to get yourself off. You're practically riding his face at this point and, based on the moans Chris presses into you, he's enjoying this just as much as you are. You know if he had it his way, he'd be using his hands to shove you even further into his face but, he's happy to lay there and let you use him until you're satisfied.

Which doesn't take all that long. Usually, you're pretty good at being able to tell when you're about to orgasm but, this time it catches you completely off-guard. A jumbled mess of ‘Daddy’ and ‘Chris’ fall from your lips as your body convulses. Your fingernails dig into the couch so fiercely that for a fleeting moment you're worried you might have ruined it.

Chris doesn't allow your mind to wonder for too long, though. Licking your gushing wetness like it's the first bit of liquid he's had in days while his nose brushes your throbbing clit. Your thighs shake and tightening around his head as the familiar burn of overstimulation starts to settle in the apex of your thighs and creep to your extremities.

“Da–Daddy,” you choke out, winding your hand into his hair and tugging his mouth away from you, “To–Too much,” you finish with a great deal of effort. Using all of your strength to move off of him until you're hovering over him. Your respective, unsteady breathing all that can be heard.

Cracking an eye open to look at him is a grave mistake. Between his wild eyes, unruly hair, flushed cheeks and full, bruised lips covered in you, you never stood a chance. And the sporadic clenching and unclenching of your still not filled pussy helps make that abundantly clear.

Chris watches you while you shift down his body. Air catching in his lungs when your hands reach for the waistband of his sweats and impatiently tug them down. He's so hard and a teasing dribble of pre-cum leaks from his tip that you can't help yourself from bending down and licking it.

“Fu–Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, throwing his head back while his hands clench and unclench at his sides. Cute. His hips just barely jerk up in search of more relief from your mouth but, you don't give him the satisfaction. You have other plans in mind.

Grabbing his thick cock, you guide it to your dripping entrance. Just barely able to keep your eyes open to watch him as you sink down onto him. You lose that battle very quickly. Your eyes fluttering shut with every inch of him you sink down on until he's fully inside of you. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You can already feel tears building up at the corners of your eyes just at the sheer fullness you feel right now.

“–so tight. Such a good girl. Always so fucking good,” Chris's words bring you back down for a moment and you blink your bleary eyes open to look at him. Your walls clamp down on him harshly when the sight of your sweaty, flushed boyfriend greets you. That's all the prompting you need to start a brutal pace. His cock just opens you up so deliciously that you can't help but bounce on it. The sounds of your skin hitting his and the filthy squelching between your thighs nearly drowning out your shared noises of pleasure.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” you chant, impatiently tugging open your work shirt and shoving down your bra until your breasts are finally free. Chris's eyes burn as they watch you palm your tits and tug on your nipples until you're just barely able to focus on fucking yourself stupid on him. “I feel so good, Daddy. Your cock makes me feel so full,” you whimper after an especially harsh twist of your nipples.

“Yeah?” He pants out, his dark locks starting to stick to his sweaty forehead while his eyes struggle to pick between looking at your beautiful face, your hands toying with yourself or his cock disappearing inside of your scorching pussy. “Does my princess like using Daddy to get herself off, hmm? Does it feel good to fuck yourself on Daddy's cock while he just lies here? Tell me, baby.”

“Y-Yes, so good, Daddy. Your cock feels ah fuck so amazing, Daddy. You feel so good, Daddy.” You whine, one of your hands snaking its way between your thighs to rub against your swollen clit. A fractured moan bubbling out of your throat while you rub frantic circles against yourself and try to maintain the pace you set on Chris's cock.

“That's good. You look so pretty using me to get yourself off, sweetheart,” he coos, giving you a smile so soft that you can feel your heart grow in your chest while your release grows closer and closer. “Are you going to cum, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock, beautiful? Hmm? I want you to. Wanna see you cum so badly. Wanna feel you make a mess all over me.”

And just like that you feel your entire body seize. You're not even aware of what's coming out of your mouth right now but, you can't bring yourself to care. Your vision blurs at the edges while your entire body shudders. It takes every ounce of you not to completely collapse ontop of him while you ride out the waves that keep crashing into your limp body.

“–my girl,” is all you hear in the distance before you feel his large hands grab your hips and something warm filling your spasming walls. Opening your eyes with a great deal of effort, you're greeted with the sight of a panting, fucked out Chris. His cock pulsing inside of you with every rope of cum that shoots out of it. That does eventually prompt you to collapse onto his sturdy chest. Nuzzling into his neck while your shared releases start to leak out of you.

“Feel better?” He asks, rubbing your back soothingly while pressing featherlight kisses against your forehead.

“Yes, thank you. I love you,” you mutter tiredly into his skin, pressing yourself as close to him as you can.

“I love you too, baby,” are the last words you hear before succumbing to the fatigue that's been calling you all day.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Kinkuary Masterlist | Stray Kids Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

#bang chan smut #chan smut #stray kids smut #christoper bang smut #chris bang smut #bang chan x reader smut #chan x reader smut #stray kids x reader smut #christopher bang x reader smut #chris bang x reader smut

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gonzo-rella · 2 months

Text

Headcanons: Being Married To Old Man Ray Stantz

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): old man!Ray Stantz x gn!also old!reader (romantic)

Warnings: Possibly inaccurate science words, because I'm a simpleton. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: Here's my first Ghostbusters thing! I've got a few other Ghostbusters fics in the works, mostly Ray-based reader-inserts because I'm in love with him, but I've also got a Phoebe-centric character study in the works that's based on part of her storyline in Frozen Empire. By the way, I loved Frozen Empire! I've already seen it three times, and it's such a joy. I'll try to catch it a couple more times at least before it leaves cinemas. Anyway, I haven't included any explicit spoilers for Frozen Empire in this, so you're safe to read this if you haven't seen it yet. I'd love to write more old man Ray Stantz fics, especially something involving Phoebe. I'm really excited to write for Ghostbusters, so feel free to send in requests! I've only seen the movies, but I plan on watching the Real Ghostbusters at some point soon. Also, even though I took my mum to see Frozen Empire the other day, I still don't have anyone to talk to about this movie, so please feel free to talk to me about it!)

It’s evident that, even after all of these years, Ray is still madly in love with you.

The adoration with which he looks at you is clear as day.

Venkman has always loved to tease you both about how sickly sweet your relationship is.

He will make fake gagging when either of you are affectionate to one another when he’s around.

(He won’t admit it, but he actually finds your relationship to be kind of cute)

It’s not like either of you are overly lovey-dovey, especially now.

Ray’s naturally a very passionate and expressive guy, but he’s rarely mushy.

Still, you show one another how much you care.

I have this idea that your silent way of saying ‘I love you’ to each other is holding the other’s hand, stroking their knuckles with your thumb and smiling at them.

It just seems so cute to have this thing that you’ve been doing for your whole relationship.

Ray knows you like the back of his hand, and you know him just the same.

It’s almost scary how well you know one another.

I can imagine that there’s been a time that someone’s asked one of you a question, and the other has been able to answer it with ease.

I love the idea of Ray being with someone who’s not a scientific mind like himself.

So, if you’re not as knowledgeable about the supernatural as Ray, you’ll still have picked up on plenty of information against your will, and Ray will always be impressed with and proud of you when you manage to regurgitate or understand his ‘science-y word salad’ (as you have referred to it).

He will also find it very attractive when you talk supernatural or science to him, but he tries not to make it obvious.

His eyes still light up like he’s a kid on Christmas when he explains supernatural stuff to you or tells you about a new psychically charged item he’s bought, and you find it so endearing.

Also, I can imagine him practically forcing you to listen to Podcast’s podcast when he discovers it, and you both end up getting really into it.

As devoted as he still is to his work and his supernatural endeavours, spending time with you is his greatest priority.

He might miss being an active Ghostbuster, but the silver lining of it is that he gets more time with you than he ever used to.

Even if you both used to be Ghostbusters, it’s nice to spend time together that doesn’t involve being covered in ghost slime and shouting over nuclear accelerators.

If you’ve not got anything else to do, I think it’d be sweet if you kept him company in his store.

Phoebe and Trevor are your honorary grandkids and you and Ray are beyond proud of them, especially Phoebe, who you’re closest to of the two of them.

Phoebe will always remind the both of you of Egon, so whenever she does something particularly Egon-like, you will exchange a knowing glance, and when she’s gone you’ll end up reminiscing about your old friend.

If Phoebe or the other Spenglers ever want to hear about Egon, you’re both more than happy to talk to them about him.

Even in his golden years, Ray is still the same sweet, passionate, excitable man you married all those years ago.

Sure, the regular excitement that came with Ghostbusting is long behind you both, but you both cherish this quieter time together just as much.

#ghostbusters x reader #ray stantz x reader #ghostbusters #ray stantz #x reader #x gn!reader #x gender neutral!reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #phoebe spengler

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trensu · 8 months

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have another snippet of stasis in darkness! just 'cuz i'm bored tbh, and kinda stuck on all my wips i'm currently working on.

The seventh night:

“Has he spoken to you yet?”

“How could he when you’re here yammering my ear off every night?”

“He’s a god, I’m sure it wouldn’t be that hard for him to shut me up.”

“Even gods have their limits.”

“Oh, har har. The warrior’s got jokes. You didn’t answer my question.”

“...not yet,” Steve said stiffly.

“It’s been how long now? A week?” The man hummed in a falsely thoughtful manner. “Maybe he’s just not that into you, man. Maybe he’s letting you down easy.”

At his words, Steve involuntarily curled his shoulders inward, slightly, ever so slightly, in defense. He'd been wondering that same thing earlier that day. Steve had toiled hours in the sun to fix up the shrine; to make it welcoming; to encourage a divine visit.

He had stopped wearing his armor to free up more time to work. Putting it on and taking it off took too long, and he didn't have to maintain it as much if he wasn't wearing it regularly. He stuck to only his chainmail. He'd kept his shield stored away, too, so it wouldn't get in the way while he worked. Though, he made sure to keep his sword nearby.

He’d taken his knife and traced over the etchings of stars in the alcove that served as a backdrop to the statue. His knife had been ruined but it didn't matter. The Lord of Night would probably want the stars of his dark sky with him, he reasoned, and these had worn so thin. Sadly, it was the only detail he could bring out of all the stone. The statue’s face was so crumbled that Steve couldn’t even begin to guess what it had originally looked like.

He had discovered that the vines he chose to keep were moonflowers. They had blossomed every night since he’d removed the other more invasive plants. He'd draped them carefully so they lay across the statue's shoulders, wrapped lovingly around its torso and clung to its waist before the ends of the vines trailed off at the knees.

The strange man might have made himself a nuisance during his visits but he never stayed the whole night. Steve had been able to get a few hours of makeshift prayers at the shrine every night. He’d done all this, yet dawn broke every day without a single sign that the Lord of Night had been listening.

“Warrior?”

Steve broke out of his reverie. He refused to look at the man. He had to clear his throat roughly before he could speak.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been rejected by someone I love." Steve tried not to dwell on his father's perpetual scowl and his mother's infinite disinterest. "I’m pretty used to my devotion being one sided by now.”

“That’s a bummer,” the man said. His sympathy was meant to be teasing, Steve could tell, but it came out surprisingly sincere. “Good thing you have a whole pantheon! Strong guy like you? Any god would take you to be their warrior in a heartbeat.”

“What are you talking about? No, I’m nowhere near done with his shrine,” Steve said determinedly. “I know a silversmith and a stone mason who’d give me a hand, and Dustin and Robin have been dying to come up here to bring him offerings. The only reason they didn’t come with me is because I had to do the pilgrimage on my own if I wanted a shot at earning his blessing.”

The man spluttered.

“Are you insane? A god rejects you and you’d come back? What kind of stupid–were you dropped on your head as a child?

“A couple times, but that doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Are you sure? Have you checked? You should go to one of the gods of medicine. Owens, maybe. Have him take a look at your head,” the man huffed in frustration. "For stars' sake, why would you want to come back?"

He ignored the insult to his intelligence. For stars' sake. Steve murmured the words to himself, letting them settle in his mouth to get a feel for them. He'd never heard of that one before. He liked how it rolled off the tongue, natural as anything.

The man waited for his response. Steve took a moment to try to sort out his words. He kept his head bowed towards the shrine as he ruminated.

“People barely remember my god,” Steve finally said. “And when they do, they remember him as something he’s not. Even if he doesn’t believe I’m worthy of carrying his crest, he shouldn't be forgotten.”

The man said nothing. Steve took a shuddering breath before the quiet could take over.

“Having someone forget you is…it’s very lonely. Which is the worst feeling. I…I guess I don’t want him to be lonely anymore.”

The silence that followed his statement stretched long enough that Steve started falling into that meditative state he’d learned during his many nights at the shrine. It helped dull the twisted up, unsteady sensation that lingered from the man’s prodding at his every self-doubt and fear.

“He hasn’t rejected you yet, though,” the man broke Steve's musings awkwardly.

“He hasn’t reached out to me either. It’s fine. I’ll keep coming either way.”

Another silence. It was around the time the man usually left Steve to his worship. He didn't hear retreating footsteps. Instead, the man cleared his throat, and when Steve looked up at him, the man turned his face away, shrouding it in gloom.

“Maybe he’s nervous. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t contacted you yet.”

“Nervous? No way.”

“He sounds like a godly weirdo,” the man said. “Maybe he’s never had a holy warrior before and doesn’t know what to do.”

“He’s the good kind of weirdo! And there’s no way he’s not had a warrior carry his symbol. He must’ve had loads back in the day. I probably don’t meet his standards,” Steve smiled lopsidedly, playing off his insecurity.

“I’m serious!” the man exclaimed. “It’s possible! Some gods never get warriors. Some never want them at all!

“Look, even if I was the first to offer to be his, he’d know he didn’t have to be nervous,” Steve insisted. "I’ve never served a god before either! I wasn’t sure I could have faith at all until I learned about him. So like, if he’s new to it then so am I, and we’d figure it out together.”

“...you really mean that, don’t you? You’d let him make it up on the fly if he took you on.”

“Well, yeah,” Steve shrugged.

“You’d keep coming back even if he rejected you?”

“Yep.”

“But why? That’s so stupid. Nobody would do that!” The man sounded frustrated.

“I’m not really known for my smarts,” Steve said matter-of-factly. “Robin and Dustin had to translate the only book we found about the Lord of Night because I definitely wouldn't have been able to. It was a tiny book but it still took them ages to do because the language doesn’t really exist anymore. So they told me it’s possible it’s not accurate. It felt true, though, to me.

“There was this quote, I can’t recite it word for word, but…it was something about how monsters don’t always look monstrous, and the monstrous aren’t always things to be feared.”

“That sounds ridiculous,” the man protested. Steve shook his head.

“No, it’s true! Like, I know I’ve got a pretty face and really great hair,” he smirked when he heard the man scoff, “but I was such a fucking asshole when I was younger. I went around hurting people on purpose, tearing them down for no reason other than I was hurting too, and that’s the shittiest reason to hurt anyone. I had to get some sense knocked into me by the people I call friends now.

“My friends are the greatest people I know, and I’m really lucky to have them, but to everyone else? My friends are losers. They’re rejects because they don’t act right or they don’t look right; they talk too much or too loudly. People treat them like shit because they're different.

“And after I noticed that, I started seeing it more even if I don’t always pick up on it. And I still mess up sometimes. I'm not a god, I can't change the world but…in the stories Robin and Dustin translated, the Lord of Night helped people like my friends because it was always the weak and rejected that try to hide themselves in the dark. I want to help those people find him again so they know they’ve got someone holy in their corner. They should know someone loves them enough to protect them.”

Steve didn’t really know where all those words came from; he wasn’t a wordsmith like Robin and Dustin. He always had a hard time verbalizing his thoughts, and he usually messed up the words. Nonetheless, these words had almost burned to be said.

When the speech that flowed from him finally reached a natural end, he felt…lighter, cleaner. He felt like his shield and sword when they were polished to a shine. But when he turned to see his audience’s reaction, the man had gone. Steve felt strangely dejected instead.

–

The eighth night:

“Hey, it’s me again. My supplies are low and I don’t know what your thoughts about hunting on your land are so I’d rather not…I don’t want you to think I’m disrespecting you. I might have to leave soon to get more supplies,” Steve swallowed nervously. “Which isn’t an ult..ultimate…? No, damn, what is it called? I’m not trying to force you to talk to me before then, is what I mean. Not–not that I could! With you being a god.”

Steve scoffed at his own blundering. He should’ve had Robin help him make speech notes. Cards with conversation starters. Something! He took a deep breath and tried again.

"But I'm coming back, I promise. I meant what I said about fixing up your shrine. I’ll commission a new plaque and I’ll talk to the stonemason about replacing your plinth. I don’t know a lot about sculpture, but I’ll get you the strongest type of stone and get something nice carved on it. Your flowers? Or cats? Cats are cute. Maybe your bats would be better…?” Steve trailed off.

It was quiet save for the faint rustle of leaves in the cool breeze. The full moon illuminated the area more than ever before. The shrine must have really been a beautiful sight back in its heyday. The thought of it sent a pang of longing through his soul.

The hour came that the strange man usually showed up. Steve steeled himself for another round of questions, another jab at his faith. The hour went by with Steve alone in the clearing. Steve frowned.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

Steve’s question went unanswered.

After another hour without seeing his stranger, Steve had finally convinced himself to round the perimeter for a quick check in case the man was nearby or in need of assistance. When he found nothing, he checked again in case he missed something.

Still nothing. Uneasily, Steve gave up his search and returned to the shrine. He knelt before it again, head bowed. He cleared his throat.

“Lord of Night, I don’t know his name, and I know he’s been rude–annoying–but could you please watch over the man? Please keep him safe from harm for as long as the stars shine tonight. Thank you.”

He received no response, but Steve had faith. He knew he was heard. He knew his god wouldn’t let an innocent come to harm if he could prevent it.

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you’d like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

#trensu tells stories #stasis in darkness #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #i'm hopping around between working on this fic and a couple of different fics for the hawkins halfway house au #whenever i feel uninspired by one i jump to the other #i've also dabbled a little with additions to the chrissy the vampire slayer au i threw together real quick a while back #someone please tell me how to keep focused long enough to finish one wip rather than juggling like five of them at a time #anyway #i actually have more of this one written out but this part of it is the only one that i'm pretty sure i won't go back and change around #whereas the rest of it is still getting rearranged over and over lol

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spider-stark · 1 year

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Anti-Hero // Hero x Villain Trope // pt. 1 //

Next Part

Summary - Reader and Peter are both living double lives. Spider-Man is considered a national hero, while the reader is viewed as a criminal. In their personal lives, they're both head over heels for one another, their friendship finally blossoming into something more. But as vigilantes? It's complicated.

a/n - A very sweet anon requested a hero x villain trope with Peter or another Marvel character, and after being bored at work for several hours, I ended up playing around with the idea. I decided to split it into two parts because I'm still toying around with the next half, so let me know what you think. :) And thank you anon for the request!

If there was anything in this world that Jonah J. Jameson loved, it was finding new ways to prove to the public that Spider-Man was a menace to society. More than that, he loved having photographic evidence of Spider-Man’s failings, which is exactly what New York’s latest crime-doer had been giving him.

Some random New Yorker had started an Instagram live just a few days back right after spotting Spider-Man leap onto the rooftop of the citizens apartment complex, and right on his heels was the most recent villain—one who had become the suspect of countless armed robberies as of late.

This footage was the first live-action clear shot that anyone had managed to get of the mysterious individual that now plagued the streets of Queens, and everyone wanted their hands on an exclusive with the boy that saw them first-hand.

“Now, tell me, what did they look like up close?” Jameson questioned the boy, leaning so far forward on his chair that it looked like he could slip out and hit the floor at any second.

The boy was glancing around the studio in pure amazement, clearly relishing his time in the spotlight. “Uh, well, they were dressed in all black. Like, black shoes, blank pants, even this weird black mask that covered their entire head! Literally just like all the victims have described so far—they’re like a shadow!”

He was beyond excited, talking about the person that had thieved and pretty much brutalized over a dozen people in the last month. He spoke like he had just spotted a celebrity, rather than a criminal. The severity of the situation went right over his head, and Jameson gritted his teeth at the fanboy before pressing on.

“And what were they doing on the roof of your home?”

“Chasing each other!” He might as well have squealed from joy, his eyes looking directly into the camera as he spoke rather than Jameson.

Jameson edged closer, his ass just barely touching the seat at this point, “So Spider-Man was going after the assailant?”

“Oh, God no!” The boy laughed as he said it, leaning back in his own seat to try and create some distance from Jameson, who was violating his personal space more with each second. “They were chasing him! By the end of it, Spider-Man could barely catch his breath. I think that’s why they were able to escape!”

Jameson’s brows snapped together, processing the information and prepping his next question. “So they were able to outmaneuver him? Outpower him, even! Tell me, as someone who got to see this as it unfolded, do you think it’s possible that this new man also has powers?”

“I’m not sure.” The boy answered truthfully, seemingly thinking back on the occurrence. “They were definitely fast, and super strong, so maybe! And those knives—” The look on his face was practically orgasmic, as if the sheer thought of the villains power had him bursting at the seams. “They might as well be a part of her! She never missed—not once! Superpowers or not, she knows what she’s doing.”

Jameson’s jaw fell open, practically touching the dirty rug that laid across his studio floor. “I’m sorry, did you say she?”

The boy nodded rapidly. “Yeah! It’s kind of hard to see in the video, but I told the police in my report that it was definitely a girl! I was hoping it would show up better on camera, but you can tell by their build it’s a woman. And God, her ass–”

“You heard it here first, folks!” Jameson quickly cut the boy off, throwing a sharp glare in his direction that had him immediately shutting his mouth, cheeks turning red. “Spider-Man not only let the assailant involved in countless crimes get away, but he also lost to a girl that might not even have superpowers!”

Behind the scenes Jameson could see his publicist making an X motion with her hands, trying to get him to shut his mouth before he made any further sexist comments. He ignored them, mostly.

“In my opinion, Spider-Man is no better than the rest of those animals. New York has placed him on a pedestal, bestowed upon him the title of ‘hero’, and yet he can’t even catch a girl with a pocket knife?” Jameson scoffed at the camera, shaking his head. “He’s nothing more than a fraud, a feckless, treacherous, unhinged menace!”

After seeing the interview, Peter had wanted nothing more than to throw away his entire television set and never check news headlines ever again. He had been trying so hard—unnecessarily hard—to catch you, and yet despite his best efforts, you always slipped right out of his grasp.

“Seem a little off your game, Spidey!” Your chipper voice rang through the empty alleyway they had found themselves in. Your tone was so steady, so even, as if you hadn’t even broken a sweat during their fight. Peter, on the other hand, was practically gasping at this point. “Still upset cause that idiot from the Bugle called you out on being weaker than a girl.”

He could practically feel you roll your eyes at the word, letting the taunt roll off your tongue despite being just as annoyed by Jameson’s comment. It felt like a cheap stab at both of you, and it annoyed you just as much as it did him.

“I’m getting really tired of you.” Peter huffed, desperately trying to make himself sound as composed as you did, trying not to show his exhaustion. How were you so damn fast? “Not only are you destroying the city, but now you’re dragging my name through the mud too?”

You shrugged your shoulders before slipping another knife out of the holster on your upper thigh, “Well, if you’re so tired of me, then why don’t you try to catch me for once?”

He narrowed his eyes, the white of his Stark Tech suit mimicking the expression. You were just a few feet away from him, and you had practically backed yourself into a corner by darting into this alley, nothing but a brick wall behind your back.

“That’s the plan.” He snidely remarked, taking a sharp inhale of breath before darting straight towards you, webs shooting from his wrists as he tried to pin you in place.

Miss, miss, miss.

The words chanted in his head, playing on a loop as you repeatedly dogged the webbing he shot at you, as if you always knew exactly where they were gonna land. This is impossible, he thought to himself, his irritation growing more and more.

Once he was close enough he took a swing at you, his webs rendered practically useless due to your keen senses helping you dodge them each and every time. With just centimeters between your face and his fist, you ducked, giggling to yourself as you heard his knuckles collide with the brick wall.

A series of obscenities fell from him lips, and you took this small window of opportunity to slip past his leg and get behind him, swiftly using one hand—the one that wasn’t holding a knife—to grab his arms and bring them behind his back.

“That looked like it hurt.” You came in close, so close that Peter could feel your breath brushing against his covered ear. He didn’t like the sensation, the way his body betrayed him by his knees going weak at the sound of your voice purring in his ear. “Did it?”

Peter didn’t respond, afraid that words would fail him if he tried, and instead just grunted as he went to rip his arms from your grasp to spin himself around so he was facing you.

Despite your quickness and impressive strength, he was still stronger than you. But as his left arm slipped from your grasp, you swiftly brought your other hand up and let the thick metal of the knife slice across his suit, tearing the fabric and digging into his flesh.

Peter hissed at the sensation, his hand immediately flying up to apply pressure to the wound. It was a deep cut, one that could potentially cause fatal blood loss in the average person, but Peter was not the average person, and you knew that much. He would heal, quicker than you wanted him to.

“Too slow.” You grinned at him beneath your mask, he could hear it in your tone. “Sorry to break it to you, but our fun is gonna have to end here for now, mkay? I’ve got big plans later, don’t wanna be late!”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Peter growled, his rage towards you finally building to a lethal point. He never lost control, not with any villain, but you always made it so hard to keep composed.

He took a step forward, but staggered a bit. It felt like his legs weighed thousands of pounds, like he was carrying a load of bricks. His gaze shifted back to you, squinting as his vision began going blurry. “What did you do?”

You lifted your shoulder in a half shrug, watching as he stumbled against the wall, using it to hold up his weight. “You know what botulinum is, right?” You paused, pointing your knife in his direction, waiting for an answer he couldn’t get out of his mouth as he fell towards the ground. “Guess not. Well, it’s essentially just botox. The lethal dose is around 2.1kg for the normal human, and you’re obviously not normal. So I decided to triple it!”

Peter’s eyes widened as the words rang through his ears, his muscles suddenly feeling stiffer, more difficult to move. His arms were locking up, unable to move from where they laid at his sides.

“Oh don’t give me that look.” You frowned at him, holstering the knife you had used on him now that he was struggling to move. “I haven’t killed anyone before, have I? Injured, maybe, but I’ve never killed. I’m certainly not gonna change that by killing New York’s savior, alright? It’s just gonna paralyze you for a bit, maybe knock you out for a while. That’s why I led you here!”You motioned to the dank alleyway.

“No one comes down here, so you should be safe until you recover. You’ll be back on your feet in like an hour—two, at most!” There was a pause as you scrunch your nose up a bit, a gesture just barely evident through your mask. “That is if I estimated the dosage right. Kind of hard to tell when I’m not sure what all that radioactive spider did to your body, ya know?”

You took a few steps back, beginning to move yourself back towards the street. Once you turned your back on him, you shot him one last smile over your shoulder. “Anyways, I’ve gotta hit the road. See ya next time, Spider-Boy.”

Peter tried to scream, tried to move, tried to do anything—but his body failed him entirely, forcing him to do nothing but lay against the cold, damp brick pressing into his back and watch you leave.

He was definitely gonna be late for his date with Y/N.

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