brainrot

here are some characters i will write for:

spider-man (playstation marvel's spider-man)

harry osborn (playstation marvel's spider-man)

loki laufeyson (mcu)

adam faulkner-stanheight (saw)

dr. lawrence gordon (saw)

dennis reynolds (iasip)

many more...

MY THEO

an: hello anon! this is such a sweet ask, i'm giggling and kicking my feet omg. it’s christmas day for me, happy holidays to all! i hope we’re all eating good food and spending time with family and friends. <3 

summary: You and Harry are resting in your bed and you call him a nickname he hasn't heard in a while. pairing: harry osborn x reader warnings: making out, cringe <:

The evening ushered in a tranquility that had eluded both you and Harry for quite some time.

A slight crack in the small window above your bed allowed a gentle breeze to permeate the room. While many might argue that the air in New York City carried a sharp and unpleasant scent, it smelled of new beginnings to you. Describing your life in the city proved to be an indescribable experience. 

You gaze up at Harry, lying on your bed. He looks like a dream, his eyes half-closed and glazed with the allure of sleep. Your right hand rests on his bare chest, while the other is delicately woven through his. 

His ginger hair is slightly overgrown, falling over his forehead haphazardly. He hadn’t been able to get a haircut lately; the holidays were approaching, and his barber was packed with appointments. You’ve been trimming his hair for him, but you're afraid to go too short—God forbid you ruin his beautiful hair. He couldn’t care less about his hair's appearance, though, as long as you're running your hands through it gently.

You swipe your hand over his forehead to smooth out his unruly hair, allowing you to see his eyes more clearly. His green ones flutter towards your own and rest there.

The two of you pause for a moment. The city is surprisingly quiet, with no traffic or drunk college students, just the two of you breathing in time with the wind outside your window. Your chests rise and fall together.

“What do you think you would be doing right now if we hadn’t met each other?” You speak, breaking through the silence you had accumulated. Harry moves a piece of hair behind your ear and lets his hand linger on your face for a while.

“I’d probably be in my own bed at home, dreaming of being here instead,” he smirks.

You scoff and let out a small chuckle, “But you wouldn’t know I exist! How could you possibly dream of me?”

“I’m sure I’d find a way,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“Well, I think I would be at the movies.” Harry laughs at your answer, a real laugh, from the bottom of his chest. The sound of his happiness always makes you feel warmth in your chest.

“What’s so funny?” You sit up on your knees, looking down at him, still laughing. His laughter is contagious, and you join him in his fit. 

“Just you, always so sure of yourself. If you told me you were born with vampire fangs and blue skin, I would have no choice but to believe you.”

“Well, it’s just one of my many charms.” Harry laughs again, swiftly pulling you back down to lie with him. You wonder how he’s gotten so strong over the past couple of months.

He pulls you into a warm kiss, slowly trailing down to your neck and lingering there for a moment. You feel his breathing below your ear, and it elicits a shiver to run down your spine.

“Can I stay here tonight?” He says your name, dripping with want. It causes you to let out a gentle moan. 

You suck in a sharp breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Of course you can.”

He smiles wide and kisses you again, this time harder and needier. He bites your bottom lip, and you gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

You part to allow yourselves a moment to breathe. There is barely any space between the two of you, the gap between your lips just enough to speak in a whisper.

“Anything for my Theo…”

Harry blushes a red you have never seen before; it may not even exist on the color wheel. He swiftly buries his head into your neck and groans, embarrassed.

“Nobody has called me that since the third grade.” It comes out muffled, barely audible, but you heard it.

“But it’s so cute!”

“Who names anyone Theopolis anyway? What was my dad thinking…” He separates himself from you and flops on your bed, placing a pillow over his face.

“I think it’s a beautiful name. Very regal, like a knight.” You lean down and remove his pillow-shield, kissing his nose.

“A knight… Your knight in shining armor.” His blush fades, and his smile returns.

You fake a sigh and shake your head, “What am I going to do with you, Theo?”

Harry groans again, much louder this time, and swiftly launches a pillow at you.

“I am never going to stop calling you that.”

NSFW HEADCANONS 18+

an: this was kind of a struggle for me, it was the first time i ever wrote anything remotely spicy! i have always been too embarrassed but i am freeing myself from cringe. i didn’t know if you wanted symbiote harry or not so i wrote both… hope you enjoy!

summary: nsfw headcanons pairing: harry osborn x reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, symbiote, wax play

w/o symbiote 

Harry doesn’t just want to have sex with you, he wants to make love with you. 

He wants you to be super comfortable, but not too comfortable. 

Harry is super spontaneous and will try new things with you, but he won’t get too crazy. 

Very well endowed!

You will one hundred percent be satisfied.

He will watch your emotions and reactions like a hawk until he figures out what turns you on.

He’ll tell you how beautiful/handsome you are constantly, and if you return the favor, he will absolutely come undone. 

“You’re so good to me, Harry…”

He’s toast. 

Likes to talk to you a lot during and after, he is the absolute king of aftercare.

Sex isn’t just something you do as a couple for him, it’s a whole experience. 

with symbiote 

WHOA BABY

It was about the motion of the ocean before, but now, the size of the wave is not something you can ignore. 

Harry has become a FREAK

Like actually

You were calling him handsome before the symbiote, now, he is sexy.

The two of you will be going all night, do not underestimate his stamina.

His heat/flame resistance may bring some interesting new things into play… Wax? Where did that come from?

His confidence has never been higher. 

He knows that sex with anyone other than him will be ruined forever.

Nobody can do it like him.

He knows what makes you come, and with this new strength, he can get you there over and over again. 

He’ll be a little more selfish in bed. 

But, he will still care for you afterward as he always has.

It’ll just be a while until you get to “afterward…”

MAKE YOU BETTER

an: hello! i love reading ur harry fics so much, thank you for this prompt! i hope u like it <3 ps: reader does not know peter is spiderman, they just think peter got injured somehow and the symbiote transferred over to him. spiderman having a black suit, in their eyes, is just a coincidence. just imagine reader being totally oblivious, lol.

summary: You're Harry's nurse and you can't help him feel better physically anymore, so you resort to playing therapist. (fluff/a little angst if you squint) pairing: harry osborn x reader warnings: sick & irritable harry

You knock twice as gently as possible, trying not to disturb Harry too much. He mumbles something that resembles “come in,” so you allow yourself to slowly open the door. You close it upon entering and lean against it.

“How are you feeling today, Harry?” you ask, wishful thinking taking over, though you think you probably know the answer.

Harry shuffles a little in his bed and leans his head back. He swallows hard, and his Adam's apple bobs in his throat. His form has gotten frail over the past couple of days.

He breathes in deeply and his words come out in a whisper, “Never been better.” He smiles sarcastically and breathes out his nose, a laugh that does not require him to flex his stomach.

You can see his pain. You can feel it too. You don’t want to pry, but as his nurse, you have a job. You are supposed to make him feel better, get healthier. He can’t get any better, physically, that is. Your real task now is to change his mindset.

“What’s been bothering you lately? Any serious pain I should know about?” You cross your arms, still leaning on the door.

Harry is sitting up now, giving you a better view of the dark purple bags under his eyes. You wince and look down, avoiding his gaze. “The usual. My pain lately has been in my head. I’ve been mulling things over, got lots to think about.”

He looks down at his lap, twiddling his thumbs. His boredom has reached a new peak, having filled out four science-themed crossword books.

You nod at him as if to say “Go on.”

He furrows his brows in thought, still looking down at his hands.

“It’s Peter.” He looks up at you swiftly. “He’s… changed.”

You move towards his bed and take a seat nearer to him, to make him more comfortable. Your words come out slowly and very quietly, “Changed, how?”

He sighs, “It’s complicated. After his little… accident, having the symbiote- um, the suit- affects him in a way that it hadn’t done to me. He’s angry.”

You know he’s telling the truth. You’ve seen it. When Peter blew up on Harry and told him he should “pop some more pills.” From knowing Peter for a few months now, you would never have expected him to act that way towards anyone, let alone his best friend.

“Has he ever been angry like that before, with you?” You inquire, still pushing.

“Never. I was usually the one with the temper.”

“If you’ll allow me to play devil's advocate, I think you might need to give Peter the benefit of the doubt because-”

Harry gripped his comforter until his knuckles turned white.

“He wants me to die.” The words came out like a curse, laced with venom. His face falls into his palm, and he rubs his temples.

Once he finds himself calm, he opens his mouth again to speak, but no words come out. He looks at your face, eager to listen. Something about the way you look at him helps him find the words.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, he’s fighting his own battles. We all are.” He looks up at you, awaiting a response. You fall silent.

Your gaze is morphing under his. You feel like you’re melting rapidly under a heat lamp, but you’re just looking at each other. This moment feels more meaningful than the actual verbal conversation you were having just moments before. You’re beginning to feel different about him, and the feeling is dangerous, fatal even.

“Stop looking at me like that. Like I’m some sick child.” Harry turns his head away from you, like an actual child. A child who doesn’t want to listen to his guardian.

You scramble, “Like what? I wasn’t looking at you like anything; I was just-”

“You were pitying me; I can see it with my own two eyes.” The moment was fleeting, but you could see him changing his mind mid-sentence. Something about you kept him sane.

You breathe loudly, and he can hear the gears turning in your head. You were calculating a response so as not to irritate him further.

“I wasn't pitying you. I was just… I was thinking about how you were before. You were so full of life, seeing you like this makes me wonder what you would be doing if you weren’t in this position.” You reach for his hand and clasp it gently. His hand is cold, in contrast to your warm ones. Your thumb moves in circles over his knuckles.

“Can you help me stand up, please?” He flashes doe eyes at you, waiting for an answer. You grip his hand tighter and help him rise from the bed. When he is fully standing, he pulls you into a hug so swiftly that you wobble a bit.

He buries his head into your neck and mumbles something incoherent, and you don’t bother to ask him to repeat himself. You hold each other for just a second too long.

“Sorry, I just wanted to look out the window.” He hobbles over to the giant window and stops in front of it, placing a hand on the frame and leaning on it.

“New York City used to be so beautiful, don’t you think?” He continues to stare longingly at the world outside his room.

“I think it’s still gorgeous.” You stand next to him, placing a hand on his bicep to make sure he doesn’t lose his balance.

“Of course you would. Any world with you in it should be grateful to have you.” He turns towards you and removes your hand from his arm, placing a hand on your waist. He looks down at you with an unreadable gaze.

You look up at him and cup his face in your hands, smoothing your thumb over his cheek. His brown eyes sparkle with an ambition that you haven’t seen in all of your days of knowing him. He looks down at your lips and you notice. He leans in, and you follow suit, connecting your lips in harmony.

“You are the most beautiful thing in all of New York City, Harry.”

an: hello! i hope this was what you were looking for, i got a little carried away. this was a lot of fun! thank you for the ask again!

HARRY OSBORN HEADCANONS

an: hi anon! thank you for being my first ask, i appreciate it! i've never written any headcanons before so i'm super excited to try this.

summary: fluffy headcanons pairing: harry osborn x reader

Harry probably fell for you first and didn't notice it; he's completely oblivious.

You could tell him you love him, and he would say, "Aw, me too, buddy!"

Once you both realize you have feelings for each other, Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself.

 He's been in isolation for so long that he almost forgot how to be with someone else.

But you'll help him remember how amazing it is to love someone.

Harry is the best date planner (just look at how he planned the Peter bicycle/high school mission!).

Harry is very sentimental and will never forget an anniversary.

When you two attend benefits or parties together, he spends the majority of his time introducing you to all the people he knows.

“Have you met my partner yet?”

Harry does not hold back on affection.

He worries that his sickness will return, so he makes the most of his time while he has it.

Because of this, he doesn’t care about PDA.

He’ll hold your waist, kiss you in front of fifty people, and all the yucky (endearing!) PDA fix-ins.

He might not always feel his best, but you’ll always be there to make him smile.

He’ll flash a crooked smile at you so enticing that you’ll be on him in under a second.

hello!! i've been really into the idea of writing some more stuff as of lately and i think it would be really fun to take requests. if anyone has read the first chapter of my harry fic and likes my writing style feel free to leave me some asks!

i won't write non con, underaged characters, any kind of sa, and generally stuff that just makes me uncomfortable. i'm pretty open to different topics but nothing violent!

i often write from the perspective of a non-gendered reader or fem reader, but i could attempt to write from a more masculine perspective as well!

i haven't really done it before so it would be an interesting challenge for me, but i am open to writing smut. bare with me on this one pls :>

pairing: harry osborn (marvels spiderman 2 ps5) x reader (no use of y/n, not gendered)

summary: you are a young adult who had to put a pause on your schooling due to unforeseen circumstances. you work at a cotton candy stand on coney island and harry and you chat, perhaps leading to a new beginning for the both of you.

characters: harry osborn, peter parker, mary jane watson

warnings: mention of gambling, writer being stupid :3

an: hello! this is my first fic on this blog. if you like this first chapter let me know and i'll write another one! i have never really written fanfiction on tumblr or at least never uploaded on here but i figured i'd give it a try. i love harry in spidey ps5 so badddd and there just aren't enough fics for him :> be on the lookout for another an at the end of the fic! i don't really know how this stuff works yet but if you're interested in being put on my tags list for this work let me know!

Coney Island was so beautiful at this time of night. The night sky was illuminated with the sparkling shine that the entertainment district gave off. Despite the enchanting scenery, a sense of melancholy enveloped you on this particular night. The realization of your current situation hit home as a teenage girl, clad in an Empire State University sweater, approached your cotton candy stand—a stark reminder of why you were working here. 

You could’ve been in her shoes if not for the string of unfortunate events that unfolded in quick succession. Moving out of your aunt and uncle's place had been challenging due to the soaring living costs in New York City. To make matters worse, your ex-lover's reckless gambling had drained your finances, forcing you to put a pause on your education. The dream of becoming a great astronomer remained unfulfilled, and instead, you found yourself working at a shitty cotton candy stand.

Nights like these were bustling, contributing to your current state of dismay. The boardwalk teemed with people, immersed in the company of their significant others and friends—something you currently lacked.

The lingering summer heat made you sweat a little. Adjusting your uniform, you opened the topmost button, and as you looked up, three people stood before you—two redheads and a brunette. "Hi, welcome to Coney Cotton Candy. What can I get for you guys?"

You smile and greet your customers with as much delight as you can conjure. One of the redheads, a very handsome young man, opens his mouth to speak but quickly closes it and furrows his eyebrows instead. 

You greeted your customers with a forced delight. The handsome young man among them hesitated before making his order. His friend, addressed as Pete, clarified the order, and the other two in the group walked away, seemingly a couple. 

“Alright, can we get three of the little cones?” He fumbled through his wallet, and you noticed his striking green eyes. As you handed back his credit card, his gaze lingered in a way that made your stomach twist. 

“Have we met before? I feel like I know you,” he pondered.

“Um, I don’t think so. Maybe you’ve shopped here before?” you suggested, playing it cool.

“Did you go to Midtown High? Or maybe you went to Empire State?” he continued. 

“I went to ESU. I couldn't finish my degree, though–unforeseen circumstances,” you replied, throwing up finger quotes. He looked sympathetic, a reaction that both touched and frustrated you.  

“I’m sorry, I’ve had some of those lately too. I graduated from ESU in ‘21. What were you studying?” The line behind him grew, and despite wanting to chat further, you had a job to do. 

“Astronomy. I’m sorry, but there are customers behind you,” you said, cutting the conversation short. He apologized to the people in line, turning to leave but hesitating for a moment. 

“When you get off tonight, come meet me at the Speed Demon!” he called back. 

“Please!”

As you continued working, typing into the cash register, and dealing with an impatient mother, you awaited the hour when you would be free.  

You sigh, locking the register and slinging your tote bag over your shoulder. The remainder of your shift proved fairly uninteresting after your run-in with the man with pretty green eyes. Walking across the park, you take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the Atlantic. The waves crash on the shore, creating a soothing backdrop to your uncertain life.

When you arrive at the Speed Demon, the designated meeting spot with the intriguing young man from earlier, you find him leaning casually against the head requirement chart.

"How did you know when I got off work?" you question him, suspicion coloring your tone.

"It said the booth closes at midnight on weekends. I only assumed you wouldn’t have to stay much later than that," he replies, eyeing your face and studying your expressions.

"So, why did you want to meet with me?" you inquire again.

“You said you were studying to be an astronomer, right?” he replies, matter-of-factly.

“Yes, but I told you I couldn’t get my degree. I—”

He cuts you off, “It doesn’t matter; are you good at it?”

“I mean, yes, I would hope so. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been passionate about. I wanted to heal the environment, starting with the stars.” He smirks and looks at his feet, shuffling them.

“Well, would you be interested in not working at Coney Cotton Candy? N-Not that this job isn’t worth your time or anything…” He stumbles over his words a little, getting to his point.

“What are you saying?” Your left eyebrow kicks up in curiosity at his remarks.

“I have a startup foundation in Manhattan. I’m trying to gather as many great scientists and innovators as I can. You seem like a great fit, and it could help you finish your studies.” He smiles wide, and you note that his teeth are perfect.

“Why should you hire some person you don’t know? Isn’t that a little bit sketchy?” You place your hands in your thin jacket pockets and fidget around a little bit, thinking. If he is serious about this, you could kiss him. You would rather work any job other than your current one, no matter a real job where you can actually do what you went to school for.

“You just have that look in your eyes; I can see what type of person you are. You want to help people too. We’d still have to do a real interview, of course; I need to make sure you’re qualified.” He laughs, and his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm; he means what he says.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt.” You roll your neck around a few times, tired from a day's work.

He holds his hand out for you to shake it, and you do.

“We are going to heal the world.”

“So, you haven’t even told me your name yet,” he remarks, walking by your side to the subway station.

“I can say the same thing about you, mystery man. If you weren’t so handsome, I would think you were just some creep trying to murder me,” you admit, probably a little bit too honestly.

He gasps and places a hand on his chest, in faux offense. “I would never, and my name is Harry. Harry Osborn.”

You tell him your name, and he repeats it to himself a few times under his breath. “That's a nice name; it suits you.”

He looks at you, as you are examining your feet. You feel his gaze on you but don’t want to scare him away, so you continue to feign interest in the floor.

“What happened to the people you were with earlier? They ditch you?” you ask, curious about the whereabouts of the group he was with earlier.

“I told them I had some work stuff to do, and they didn’t ask many questions. It was date night for them anyway. I was kind of third-wheeling.” He lets out a small laugh at the admission.

The two of you continue to engage in small talk throughout your walk. When you eventually reach your destination, he stops you.

“Hey, I just wanted to say thank you for giving me the time of day. Not just anyone would do that; you said it yourself, I could have been some kind of psycho freak murderer.” He pauses for a second, opening his mouth and closing it again, thinking about his next words. “I have to be honest, I really wanted to talk to you because I thought you were beautiful; it just helped that you were exactly what my startup is looking for.”

You feel heat rising to your face due to his gentle compliment. Since your last relationship, no one had ever called you beautiful; they only ever called you asking for a check. “Thanks, you’re not too bad yourself. I seriously hope I knock that interview out of the park; I’d rather not go back to slinging cotton candy.”

He chuckles and shakes your hand again, clasping over it with his other hand, lingering for a while. “I’ll see you then.”