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paperwayne · 10 months

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crash.

Pairing: Spiderverse!Hobie Brown | Spider-Punk x Reader / Spiderverse!Gwen Stacy & Reader Word Count: 1,957 words Warnings: None

It is two o’clock in the morning, and you’re lying upside-down on the stony couch that’s still lopsided despite your attempts to correct it with a stack of cut-up magazines underneath the broken leg when Hobie finally comes back, grimy, sweaty, and with an equally grimy and sweaty girl in tow.

Hobie casts you a glance and raises an eyebrow, unshouldering his guitar and kicking off his shoes as you swing your legs over to sit right-side up.

“Sirens again?” he says.

You shrug. “Yeah.”

“Should be used to them by now.”

“Should be used to a totalitarian regime by now,” you say.

Hobie’s mouth curls into a smirk. He turns to the girl trailing behind him and nods. “This’s Gwen. She’s crashing here for the night.”

“Hey,” says Gwen. She gives you a small smile that screams of exhaustion. “Nice to meet you …?”

You give Gwen your name and a perfunctory once-over. It’s impossible to ignore the unusual colors of her clothes, and the softness of her face looks like it’s due to more than just her age. She almost looks like a pastel painting, and against the sharp and peeling backdrop of Hobie’s bedsit, the difference in appearance is like night and day. She’s strange. Out of place.

You grin at her as Hobie takes the air mattress out from underneath his bed and starts to inflate it.

“You eaten yet, luv?” you ask over the sound of the air pump.

She blinks. “Oh. Uh, not really. But I’m not that hungry, actually –”

On cue, her stomach growls. She blushes.

You shake your head and stand up, slinging an arm around her shoulders to guide her to the kitchen.

“Rule number two of crashing at Hobie’s,” you start, throwing the fridge door open dramatically so the bottles inside knock and clink together, “don’t act like you’re a burden. You’re family here, not a guest. Cuppa?”

“Cu – oh. Tea. Sure?” Gwen takes the leftover box of curry from your outstretched hand and lingers as you go about setting up the kettle. “What’s the first rule?”

“Third rule,” you continue, smugly catching Hobie shake his head as you do so, “is reject the establishment. Fourth rule is don’t be a sellout. Fifth rule is to clean up after yourself.” You take the food back from Gwen to dump it onto a plate from the dish rack, then gesture for her to place it into the microwave. “And the first rule …”

“Yeah?”

“… is screw the rules,” Hobie finishes from his seat on the ground, “whenever they go against what you stand for.”

“And you seem the type to stand for cleaning up after yourself, yeah?” you add.

Gwen huffs out a little chuckle, and the microwave beeps behind her. You hand her a spoon after she takes the curry out, and when she scoops up a bit to taste it, her eyes widen. She hardly swallows before taking a full and proper bite.

“Holy crap. This is amazing.”

“Brought some back from Karl’s. Good friend of ours.” You lean against the counter, gaze falling on Hobie once more when he turns off the air pump and stands up, long and lanky frame unfurling to his full height. “Speaking of, I’ll catch you up on what you missed during tonight’s rehearsal.”

“Okay,” Hobie replies.

You stare at him pensively, then nod.

While he gathers some blankets and extra pillows, you make small talk with Gwen, who clears her plate and drains her cup of tea. She’s rather cagey about where she’s from, other than the obvious fact that she’s from America. More than once, she glances furtively at Hobie, as if wondering if she should say a certain thing to you or not. Makes the gears in your head turn.

You like Gwen, though. Got a good head on her shoulders. (And she’s a drummer, too. The band needs a drummer.)

Once Hobie shows her the bathroom so she can shower, you fix your full attention onto the man as he pours himself a cup of tea beside you.

“She’s in that Spider Society you joined a few months ago,” you guess.

Hobie takes a long sip. “She’s a new recruit,” he explains afterwards. “On the run from her own universe. Bad luck, innit?”

“Gwen Stacys must have bad luck in every universe.” You cross your arms and your ankles, feeling the warmth of his body as his arm brushes yours. “Ain’t much safer for her here.”

“I know.”

“I thought you were almost ready to quit the Society.”

“I was.”

You narrow your eyes.

“Was?”

Hobie rests his elbows on the counter behind him. “Gwen ought to have somebody on her side out there,” he mutters.

“And we need you on our side right here, Hobie,” you say sharply, something sour starting to bleed into your tone. “Your ‘one hundred percent’ – your words. You don’t need to play pawn in some authoritarian establishment. Neither does Gwen. She can stay here with us, can’t she?”

“Not without a watch to keep her intact.” Hobie looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “And I ain’t tellin’ her what to do, yeah?”

“I’m not saying you should, Hobie. But I –"

You clamp your mouth shut and bite your tongue before you say something you’ll regret saying and he’ll regret hearing.

“I’m – we’re not used to you not being here all the time,” you finish lamely. Both of you are equally stubborn, and you don’t want to argue over a part of Hobie’s life that you can never fully know. “I just worry, s’all.”

Hobie contemplates your words. He tilts his head back to drink the rest of his tea, and you watch his throat as he swallows, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

After a long moment, he sighs and scratches his jaw. “I know,” he replies plainly. “I’m quitting as soon as the opportunity arises. But Gwen should have an out too if she wants it.”

You nod your agreement, though you cross your arms more tightly, feeling the sharp pang of guilt that comes with being jealous. No reason to be, you reprimand the scared and angry little kid inside your head. This is who Hobie is. He looks after people who don’t have anyone else. Like Gwen. Like you, all those years ago.

There wasn’t a time when Hobie hadn’t been in your corner. And it wasn’t until your mid-teens that you realized he might not always be there, trusting you to be strong enough to fight and protect while he goes off to rescue people from monsters bigger than yours.

Hobie had always been the more responsible one out of the two of you.

(With great power comes great responsibility.)

It takes a moment before you realize that Hobie has moved.

“Oi.” His voice is soft, and so are his hands on your shoulders as you startle at him standing before you so suddenly. His dark gaze bores into yours. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

About you. Always about you.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. “Sleeping. Spidey blokes like you are exhausting.”

Hobie regards you carefully, because he knows you well enough to see through all your deflecting jabs. But he just chuckles and releases your shoulders to pinch your cheek gently. “Comes with the bite, treacle. Mattress is all ready. I’ll join you on it after I clean up, yeah?”

“All right.”

The door creaks open, and the two of you turn your attention onto Gwen as she shuffles back into the room. Hobie pats your cheek and heads off to shower as promised.

“Bed’s all yours for the night,” you tell Gwen, going over to sit crisscross on the air mattress while she dries her hair.

“Are you sure? I’m fine with sleeping on the mattress. Or the couch.”

“Positive.”

“Okay. Well, thank you,” Gwen replies genuinely, sitting on the bed. “Seriously. It’s”—her voice cracks almost imperceptibly—“it’s been a while since … um. Well. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Any friend of Hobie’s is a friend of mine.”

She smiles, fiddling with the towel in her lap. “You must be real close, huh?”

“I’d kill for him, honestly,” you admit. “Probably wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for Hobes.”

“For someone who says he’s not a hero, he sure does a lot of saving.”

“That’s what I tell him. Drives him batty.” You fall onto your back, arms and legs spread out. Your grin fades. You wonder if you should say it, but then you do anyway. “He’s amazing. I wish I was as strong as him, you know? Can’t keep up with him sometimes.”

The words hardly leave your mouth before you feel that Gwen’s whole body has suddenly gone very still.

“… Gwen?” You prop yourself up. “You alright?”

“Don’t compare yourself to him,” she says quietly but fiercely. “You have your own strengths.”

You blink. “Of course I do,” you reply, surprised by her abruptness, “but the fact still stands. Normal people like me tend to drag people like you and Hobie down during the action, yeah?”

“No.” Gwen leans over, and you see her face again. Her expression is tight and her eyes blaze. “I know that you’ve never been a burden to him. You’ll always be more than enough.”

“… Oh.”

Her words make you feel almost embarrassed for even having those thoughts. But it’s also touching in its own way, and impressive, and you smile at her for being so kind.

“If that’s what you truly think, Gwen Stacy, then I’ll take your word for it,” you murmur.

She bites her lip and nods, sitting back.

A few minutes later, just as Gwen finishes brushing her teeth, Hobie comes back from his shower looking like the walking dead. You roll onto your side to watch him all but drag himself over to the sink to brush his teeth as well.

Gwen studies Hobie and then looks at you, and the confusion on her face causes you to cackle.

“What you laughin’ at?” Hobie mumbles around his toothbrush, eyes half-lidded as he squints at you.

“You, bested by a hot shower.”

He grunts and spits into the sink, rinsing out his mouth.

In true Hobie-fashion, he doggedly goes through the motions of his usual nighttime routine before making his way over to the air mattress. You help him put his hair up and into his bonnet because he’s already nodding off, and only then does he collapse face first into his pillow, grumbling something about being cream-crackered.

Gwen silently turns off the bedside lamp and gets comfortable on the bed. You wrestle the blankets out from underneath Hobie and lay them over the two of you, hoping that you’re not acting as flustered as you feel.

You try to think of how he might swing his arm into your face while you sleep (he might), or how his breathing might be too loud (it isn’t). You try to think about how the blankets tend to get all twisted up when he dreams because he moves around, and how annoyed you should be when morning comes and you’re tangled up in a mass of long limbs and coiled sheets.

But right now, the blankets are perfectly in place, and underneath them, Hobie curls an arm around you and tugs you close. He mumbles something – at least, you think he does – and all you think about is how warm he is.

As Hobie’s breaths even out against your neck, slow and deep, your throat itches with words you’ll never say aloud.

So you reach up, place your hand over his, and close your eyes instead.

#hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk x reader #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spiderverse #smatsv #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv #gwen stacy & reader #fanfiction #fluff #marvel #hobie and reader see gwen and are like 'is anyone gonna adopt her' and not wait for an answer #as a spider hobie is legally required to be a Dork so here he is being totally dead after a nice hot shower no thoughts only bed and cuddle

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vcrnons · 6 months

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[vernon voice] BOO SEUNGKWAN !

#seungkwan #boo seungkwan #seventeen #svt #svt gifs #mine #my gif #tw flashing #flashing gif #heymax #maddieblr #userhev #i've been trying to do these since yesterday afternoon and the video was so. not clear. during this part. so #they're still not >:( as crispy >:( as i want them to be >:( but it's fine >:(#that's my other man. my boo bear. my sweetie pie.#and yet. here he is. bringing me out in a hot flush. go figure.#the tongue -> blink -> wink sequence was totally unnecessary and very damaging to me. personally.#[muffled screaming]

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total-drama-brainrot · 23 days

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TD World Tour AU, where Noah doesn't tell Owen that Alejandro is an eel in London... In Area 51, Noah is accidentally splashed with an alien truth potion (which wears off after a few days) and he talks to Owen... Owen asks Noah what he truly thinks about Alejandro, and Truth-Potion Affected Noah says this: "I have mixed feelings for Alejandro. He's a brilliant, interesting guy and I like him, but I don't trust him. He's like a slippery eel dipped in grease, swimming in motor oil. Basically, Heather with social skills. Wait a minute, why am I telling you this?!"... What if Alejandro secretly heard Noah call him all those conflicting things + Alejandro also learns that Noah is affected with an alien truth potion? 👽

Alright, you got me. I'm an absolute sucker for truth potion plots, especially when the character(s) effected by them are usually either pathological liars or incredibly secretive- of which Noah absolutely falls into the second category, given he shares so little personal information.

I'll gloss over why Noah declined to shit-talk Alejandro in London (though there's so many ways this change in behaviour could be justified) since the focal point of this hypothetical centred around their time in Nevada, so let's start from the beginning of the Area 51 challenge.

Area 51:

Before we start, it'll have to be established that no one was eliminated in London. Let's say that the majority vote went towards Duncan (team CIRRRRH voted him out immediately because they found his re-admission to the competition unfair, I guess. I imagine he'd also vote himself, if not as a plan to escape the competition he'd been actively skiving from, then just as an act of spite) but Chris instead claimed it was a rewards challenge- much like he does in Greece- because he doesn't want to let Duncan slip away again so soon.

I see no reason to alter the first part of the challenge- the sneaking into Area 51 portion- since team CIRRRRH's course of entry is fairly straightforward. Noah's presence doesn't make much of a difference to how it would play out; the majority of them throw their rocks and run, Owen gets lasered over the fence and Owen-napped, ect ect.

When both teams have managed to make their way into the Black Box Warehouse, Noah immediately suggests they should prioritise rescuing Owen. Tyler's quick to agree, since he's a firm believer in the "no man left behind" mentality (and he probably makes a not-so-subtle jab towards Noah for his chance of tune compared to London, where both he and Owen did leave Tyler behind) leaving Duncan and Alejandro to split from the group- Duncan in search of Gwen, and Alejandro just takes the opportunity to finally be free from his 'incompetent teammates' and prioritises finding an artifact.

Noah and Tyler come across the contraption Owen's trapped in, Tyler punches it in a futile effort to break it open, and the face hugger cube drops into Noah's hands. This is where the point of divergence comes into play; Tyler has his E.T. moment with one of the face huggers, but Noah- who's a tad bit more observant than Alejandro, and used to dodging surprise attacks from his various older siblings (and Izzy)- anticipates his own face hugger attack and promptly starts a game of cat-and-mouse with a taser alien hot on his heels.

The commotion of which attracts the rest of his team. Alejandro and Duncan arrive on the scene to see Tyler being electrocuted by an alien and Noah running in circles evading another.

Duncan attempts to rip the face hugger from Tyler's face, finding success at the cost of sending Tyler trampling into Owen's captive contraption (essentially taking Alejandro's canonical place in this scene) and inadvertently freeing Owen.

Meanwhile, Alejandro swipes up the nearest box he can find and snags the alien chasing Noah, who's still very loudly panicking as he flees, and succeeds! The alien is swiftly captured into the box, netting team CIRRRRH their artifact, and Noah promptly goes careening into the nearest tower of junk in his face hugger-fuelled hysteria. This causes another box to topple from the peak of the tower, landing directly on Noah's head and spilling its contents onto the bookworm- glass vials filled with a mysterious, luminescent cobalt blue liquid shatter into pieces drenching Noah in whatever they contained. (i.e. truth potion.)

Owen has his false-amnesia moment, characterised by his Joker makeover, and Alejandro enacts his revenge post-hypnotic suggestion after being addressed as "Al" one too many times.

Noah, understandably, swiftly objects to Owen's treatment and demands that Alejandro snap him out of it. Alejandro concedes, and Owen's brought back to himself. At least, for a moment, before the fatigue of having his mind messed with sends Owen into near-catatonia (the same as canon), meaning he has to be ferried through the Warehouse and back to the Jet by Alejandro and Duncan.

Things carry on canonically from there; Noah's just sort of there for the most part, though there'd be a minor hint to his newfound proclivity for honesty. Something along the lines of him giving an uncharacteristically honest answer to Owen as to who he's voting- Tyler, of course, since he was the one who ultimately threw the challenge for them... and also because Tyler still holds some resentment towards Noah for what happened in London, and Noah feels guilty about it every time he looks at the jock. Wait, why did he say that?

Sometime between this and the elimination scene, Noah wipes the truth-goop off of himself, but not before the effects have already started.

Tyler's voted out, yada yada yada.

The Jet:

Thus begins the start of "Picnic at Hanging Dork". Team CIRRRRH, consisting of just Alejandro, Duncan, Owen and Noah, are slumming it up in the Economy Cabin. Alejandro tries to rally his team by asking how to break apart Courtney and Heather's tentative co-operation. Owen suggests having Alejandro seduce Heather, since it worked for both Bridgette and Leshawna. Duncan makes his "Babe Olympics" comment. Noah pipes up that playing with someone's feelings is pretty scummy, even for someone competing for a million dollars.

Alejandro takes Noah's reluctance towards his methodology poorly; he hadn't spoken up before, when Alejandro had utilized the same strategy against other girls- and even Owen noticed that, so surely Noah did too- so why was he to outwardly against him using the same tricks? Duncan agrees, and offers ''his'' idea of having Alejandro flirt with Courtney to throw both her and Heather off their games (since Heather has an obvious crush on Alejandro), and things follow canon.

Then, the scene between Alejandro and Courtney happens. Noah scoffs at the display from the side lines, prompting Owen to ask him why he's so against Alejandro's plan.

"I mean, you never said anything before, when he flirted with Bridgette and Leshawna." Owen comments, light-hearted in nature but with an underlying questioning tone.

Noah's eyes flicker with a cobalt glow, easily mistaken for a trick of the light, and he speaks without even thinking.

"Yeah, because I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Bridgette was happenstance, and Leshawna's whole deal could've been a coincidence, or some massive misunderstanding. But this?" Noah extends an accusing hand out towards a smug looking Alejandro, then pans it over to a flattered Courtney, "He's outright toying with Courtney's feelings after she was cheated on in front of an international audience. It's scummy."

Owen nods in understanding, momentary contemplation evident in the pouted curve of his lips, and he chimes in.

"Does that mean you don't like Al?"

"I never said that."

"Well, how do you feel about him, then?"

Again, a flash of blue light against the hickory backdrop of Noah's eyes, and he responds thoughtlessly.

"I guess I have mixed feelings about him. On the one hand, he's slippery, like an eel dipped in grease, swimming in motor oil. He's like if you took all of the worst aspects of Heather, wrapped them up in a pretty package, and gave them social skills..." He holds his hands out before him in a scale-like manner, with the left tipped downwards and tie right raised by his chin. Then, the two hands swap positions.

"And on the other hand, he's brilliant. I've never met anyone as talented as Alejandro; he's smart, he's athletic, he's funny. It's almost unfair just how perfect everything about him is- even his face is perfect. It's ridiculous! Infuriating, even. It's so hard to dislike him, even when I know he's bad news, but that doesn't mean I trust him."

Owen stands slack jawed beside his best friend, both impressed and stunned at the raw honesty of Noah's tirade. Noah, now a little more aware of himself, realises that he's said more than he intended to- more than he thinks he's ever spoken in one go throughout the entirety of Total Drama. He's not usually one for speeches, after all, let alone honest ones.

He's always been the type to play his cards close to his chest, so why...?

"I, uh, didn't mean to go off like that."

And he also didn't mean to admit it, either. What was going on?

The look Owen gives him is, in a word, vivid. The blonde has a shit-eating grin stretching across his face, a sort of elated smugness practically glowing from his features.

"Sounds like someone has a cruuuush!~"

What? No? No! Not at all, where would Owen even get that idea?!

Noah splutters to correct Owen's assumption (to disastrous results, because he does sort-of has a crush on Alejandro, so the truth potion doesn't allow him to outright deny it), and in his preoccupied state he misses how a calculating pair of sage green eyes never seems to stray from him.

Alejandro has a lot to think about in regards to a certain cynic, it seems.

#I'd like to apologise for taking this idea and running with it.#Cutting myself off here before I breach 2k+ words or else I'll be here all day.#Sort of entered actual Writing Mode at the end there instead of Outline Mode but this idea is. So Full Of Potential I couldn't help myself.#But from here it'd basically be Alejandro using his newfound knowledge of Noah's crush on him to his advantage.#Whilst Noah's doing his best (and failing) to deny that he has any feelings for Alejandro.#Eventually leading to the two of them having a Bonding Moment where Alejandro gets Noah to divulge some personal information.#And in turn- or an effort to garner some trust (to be abused later)- Alejandro also lets himself be vulnerable towards Noah.#Something something Alejandro tries to use Noah as a pawn but ends up catching feelings of his own.#Then of course the potion wears off and Noah goes back to being just as prickly and standoffish as he was before.#A point of conflict maybe? Imagine bearing your soul out to someone only for them to close themself off to you not even days afterwards.#...Also imagine being practically forced to divulge information about yourself to someone you don't trust because of a truth potion.#Oh yeah. That's some good angst material right there.#Especially is you have Alejandro be- if not fully aware- than at least suspect that Noah's not being agreeable on his own terms.#Anon why have you given me The Thoughts?? I can't keep brainstorming AUs when I already have fics to work on!!#ophe's ranting in the tags again #total drama #td noah #td alejandro #team chris is really really really really hot #alenoah #-ish #silly ideas #other's ideas #long post #replies #kinda drafty in here (posts from the drafts)

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pe0ple3ater · 1 month

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Okay. I'm a Pervert with a capital P and think this shit is the hottest thing ever. SUE ME. There has to be a niche of bookclub that have scent kinks right? RIGHT?? Nervous laugh.

Here's the Fit panty sniffing drabble

Fit's hands are shaking.

He really shouldn't be here, having this dilemma at all.

Pac had asked him to come and pick something up from his house. Fit is in Pac's room, and he really should be looking for what Pac asked. He can't even remember what he was sent here to look for because his eyes are locked on a pair of blue lace panties on Pac's floor.

He knows that Pac wears panties; he's seen them before. Pac likes to send teasing little pictures and wear short skirts that flash his underwear. Fit takes a deep breath and walks over, it's almost a compulsion. He bends down and picks up the soft lace, running the sides between his fingers and biting down on his bottom lip. They're the ones Pac wore yesterday. Fit knows because Mike had sent pictures of Pac straddling his lap with his legs spread in just a hoodie and these panties. Fit groans softly, the thought of those pictures making blood rush straight to his dick.

They're soft, delicate, pretty. Like Pac, Fit rubs his thumb against the fabric, and a shudder runs through him. His thumb brushes something wet, and he freezes in his tracks.

Fit turns the panties over and looks down. There's a dark spot where the panties sit against Pac's cunt. Fit covers his mouth with his other hand, face heating up and flushing dark red. He must have changed out of them not even ten minutes ago, as they'd just seen each other for a few minutes before Fit offered to pick up…whatever it was he was here for.

Fit really shouldn't, but upon seeing them, the thought had flashed in his mind, and lord, he can't stop thinking about it now. He rubs his thumb a bit more firmly against the spot of wetness, and his dick twitches in interest.

Fit feels disgusting even holding them, but when he raises them to his face and presses his nose against the soft fabric, he really feels like the textbook definition of a pervert. Pac smells good; Fit knows because he's spent his fair amount of time between Pac's legs, and the scent triggers some Pavlovian response in his body and brain. His dick is leaking in his boxers, and saliva fills his mouth. His head goes a little foggy, the same way it does when Pac purrs out a "cachorrinho" between needy pants.

Fit breathes in and shoves his hand in his shorts. He palms at himself and groans softly. It's so nasty, standing in the middle of Pac's room with a pair of his dirty underwear pressed against his face. He feels disgusting, he wishes Pac was here to see him. Fit can imagine the way Pac would react. He can hear Pac's pretty voice calling him disgusting and needy. Fit groans and quickly unbuckles his belt and tugs his boxers and underwear down below his balls. He pulls the panties away for only as long as it takes to spit in his hand and then presses them right back against his face.

He imagines Pac walking in, his gasp of surprise, the way his face would go red. Then, the slow realization, the wicked smile would spread across his face. An expression that reminds Fit jarringly of Mike.

His dick twitches at the thought of the pink-haired man, but he files it away for later.

Pac would walk over to him and wrap his hand around Fit's wrist, then pull it away to force him to show what he's got; Fit's hand speeds up. He can almost feel Pac's hand around his wrist, can practically hear the words Pac would whisper to him. "You're so dirty, cachorrinho, sniffing my underwear like a pervert, and drooling all over them like an animal," Fit pants, breathing in more of the fading scent of Pac. He's painfully close.

Fit moves the panties from his nose and wraps them around his dick. The fabric is smooth and soft against the heated, sensitive skin. It feels like heaven. He groans, and his head falls back, hips fucking his hand and the garment as he chases his release. Fit cums into the panties, translucent, white spend staining the delicate fabric. Fit pants and keeps moving his hand to work more out of himself without thinking.

When he returns to his senses, Fit looks down in horror at the mess he's made. He quickly tucks himself away and cusses. How the fuck is he going to hide this? He very well can't fucking leave them here.

The panties are good and well stained, ruined. Fit shudders, disgust curling in his stomach. He stands there for a moment and tries to think about what to do.

The door swings open behind him.

#qsmpnsfw #f!t #p@c #kinda #he's implied to be there #he totally watched the whole thing btw #he sent f!t here and hoped he'd find them #p@c knows his boyfriend #scent kink #objectively nasty but god it's so fucking hot

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