eezeybreezy

[eezeybreezy]

he’s perfect

okay i made a reference about jason where i put together my fav hcs and fav details cus im always changing things about him in my drawings so i gET TIRED

[eezeybreezy]

Just saw The Living Tombstone live, and maybe it’s the brain rot, but too many of their songs made me think of Jason.

Perhaps I should let the thoughts consume me..

[eezeybreezy]

Y’all I’m editing now I’m sorry😭 Life got ahead of me, but this is something I enjoy, just hold out a little longer 🛐.

Send me requests please I beg, I need enrichment in my enclosure.

[eezeybreezy]

Send me requests please I beg, I need enrichment in my enclosure.

[eezeybreezy]

Tempted to put my grubby little fingers on this premise 😏

though most vigilantes stay vigilantes until the expiration of their life, jason doesn’t. he quits vigilantism the second that you show him a positive pregnancy test.

[eezeybreezy]

Posting old art, Powerpuff girls but they’re cyberpunk robots

[eezeybreezy]

Decisions

Do I finish writing this Hobie oneshot I kinda abandoned, or move onto the Red Hood fic y'all wanted?

[eezeybreezy]

This youth from Palestine here, was called after finding his friend's house got bombed. They asked him to call his friend in order to determine his exact location so they can start digging.

Remember that in gaza there are no resources to dig people up from underneath the rubble, so civilians from the neighborhood have to use their own hands and be very careful because of the bodies underneath. I can't even imagine the trauma he's experiencing, his shaking voice and hands. I would never bear witnessing my best friend in such conditions and having to call them bc I'm not even sure they're alive.

How would anyone heal from this? And yet all are we asking for is just a ceasefire. This genocide should stop.

[eezeybreezy]

After getting over the initial shock and heartbreak of this tweet and this reply, it hit me that (and I don't know if this is a cultural thing here in the middle east or an Islamic one)

A child has to be named even if they're stillborn.

For a child to not be named, that means there's no one left to name them. They were killed along with their entire family.

I hoped I was wrong, but I checked the list of victims of Israeli attacks and found this:

Israel has ended 47 Palestinian bloodlines over the course of this genocide (or perhaps more), so you might think that this little detail isn't that important, but I don't think we should get used to cruelty of this proportion, no matter how consistently Israel commits it.

The number of victims isn't just a number. These are people with full lives and hopes and dreams.

It's enough of a disaster that these families were wiped out, but in murdering them, Israel didn't just deprive them of their lives, hopes, and dreams. It deprived them of even the dignity to name their children.

It continues to deprive the remaining Palestinians of their most basic human rights.

What did the Palestinians do to not deserve food or water or electricity?

What did their *newborns* do to not deserve lives or at the very least names?!

This is the most harrowing form of terrorism I can think of. The genocidal Israeli occupation is the most despicable terrorist organization the world has had the displeasure of knowing.

The whole world should be deeply ashamed that it's not only allowing such heinous war crimes to be committed, but in a lot of ways, it's enabling them.

I don't know how anyone can be neutral about this.

Stand with Palestine, stand against the occupation. Against genocide.

ربنا يتقبل الأطفال دول و أمهاتهم و عائلاتهم اللي الاحتلال قتلهم معاهم شهداء، و ينتقم من إسرائيل و أي حد بيمكّنهم أشد انتقام في الدنيا قبل الآخرة.

[eezeybreezy]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[eezeybreezy]

Still love Hobie ofc, and I want to write more on him, but how's the DC side? Should I give my man Jason Todd some love? Should I write for anime or Star Wars or what⁉️ my inspo is currently low >:(

[eezeybreezy]

Hobie x Reader where one or the other gets hit by an aphrodisiac? Pretty please? A F*ck or Die sorta situation.

teehee, i might've gotten a little carried away 🤭

Word Count: 2.6k

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY

Content: NSFW, smut, drugged? unprotected p in v, creampie, dirty talk, cunnilingus

Hobie felt hot, and despite the cool mist of Old York at night, he couldn’t help but burn up. He’d lost focus in a scuffle against a villian, deciding to call it a night after forgetting to pull his last punch. Something called him home, and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything after being hit with an attack of… pink smoke? It didn’t matter now, the canal he’d parked his home at was fast approaching. 

It was just another night for you, reading alongside the waves that rocked you into a tranquil spirit, the water provided a good backdrop to the city's silence — a silence that would be broken by the sound of heavy boots hitting the deck, and a sense of urgency in Hobie’s step that would make you anxious if not for the absolute trust shared between you two. His urgency is confirmed by the swing of the door, snapping you out of your unwinding and set on alert. You look at his face in search of answers, but his pupils are blown wide, eyes frantically searching your face, your body. He looked starved. 

Hobie’s hands itched for you, and he’d finally placed the feeling in his gut upon seeing your unraveled form, lust. Pure, and more intense than anything he’d felt in his life. His spidey sense was going crazy, an alertness and instinct thought to be figured out now replaced with a stronger more pleasant sensation — and he reveled in it. His long strides left no time wasted as he approached your shared bed and he suddenly felt too far away from his lover. 

“Hobie-” you address him, fully intending to carry on, before you notice the way his breath hitches at the sound of his name. It sent a wave of overwhelming, unbearable arousal down his body, and he couldn’t ignore it any longer. His hand against your skin was searing, even through his suit, and it took everything in him not to tear every stitch of fabric between you two. He blinks and shakes his head, searching for some kind of clarity but to no aveil. He looks back up at you, and knows he’s not going to be able to resist this urge much longer. The feeling is overwhelming and embarrassing, he isn't sure how to handle it anymore. 

“Baby what’s wrong?” You ask gently, tabbing your book and setting it down on the bed beside you. Hobie's eyes dart around the room nervously before settling on you. His cheeks are still warm, and he can't hide the desire in his eyes. He's never felt like this before, and it's eating him up. Your presence was always calming for him, but now he feels nervous in this unfamiliar state.

"I... I don't know," he mutters, his voice trembling slightly. "I don't feel right."

You search his eyes hastily, then scan his body for injury, but he’s not hurt — besides the usual scrapes and scars. After doing a once over him, you look at the clock.

“You’re home early.” You say looking back to meet his gaze.

"I know," Hobie answers quietly, looking away from you. His breath is still ragged and he's staring down at the floor. "Work was... weird today," he murmurs.

This wasn't like Hobie at all. He's usually confident and in command, but right now he looks and feels so vulnerable, rubbing his hands together nervously as he tries to collect his thoughts. You reach out to caress his face, only to have him flinch at your touch. Your eyebrows furrow harder. 

“Hobie, what happened?”

He couldn’t bear the look on your face, shattered that he’d cower at your touch. Hobie stammers, trying to find the words to explain what he's feeling right now. He's never felt so out of control before.

"I don't know, I just feel this... the strongest urge." He looks up at you, face hot and eyes filled with desire. "I want you, but… I don't know. I don’t want to hurt  you..." His cheeks are still warm and his breathing is still ragged. He wants to touch you, and god does he want to be touched. The desire was starting to physically hurt, what was once a dull ache morphing into a searing burn.

You can see the anguish in his face, “Hobie, you're not going to hurt me, let me help you. What happened out there, don't lie to me.”

You look down at his hands, he’s trembling to the point of shaking. You take his hands and place them on your hips, a silent gesture to show where you stand.

“Bee it’s ok, just tell me what you need.”

Hobie swallows hard and looks away from you. He's scared of what he might do if he lets himself give in to his desires. He doesn't seem like himself right now and he's clearly feeling confused, anxious even.

"I... I was attacked by some villain who uses aphrodisiacs... I don't even know how it happened, but I'm feelin off now..." he says, his voice trembling.

Hobie looks back up at you with pleading eyes. The touch of your skin causes his heart to race and his body to flare with desire. He tries to regain control of himself but he finds it hard to resist the pull of the aphrodisiac.

"I want... I need you..." he stammers, his voice trembling. His eyes are filled with both terror and desire as he leans down, feeling out of control and overwhelmed by the feelings flooding his body, but god do your lips look delicious.

He leans down to kiss you, and the desire in his kiss can’t be denied. Hobie's desperate and hungry, his lips pressing urgently against yours. The feeling of your soft lips on his has his heart pounding and his body trembling. He presses himself impossibly further against you, desperate to feel your touch.

Hobie wraps his arms around you tightly, his fingers digging into your hips. He wants to be as close to you as possible, never wanting this moment to end, so he grabs at your ass, earning a gasp from you. He uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, and hoists you up with the superhuman strength you often forget he possessed. You wrap your legs around his waist on instinct, scared but sure he won’t drop you, his strength further fueled by his desire. He pins you against the wall, holding you with one of his arms and holding your face with the other hand. His tongue danced playfully with yours, his lips hungry and desperate.

You can feel his arousal growing, and your own desire is building as his touch drives you wild. With you in his arms, he moves you to the bed, his lips never leaving yours as he lowers you down to the mattress. He pulls away and looks at you lovingly, his eyes sparkling with love and lust. Hobie knows he isn't himself right now. He's being driven by a primitive desire and he's been waiting for this moment for so long.

Feeling your body against his, he uses his free hand to explore every inch of your body, wanting to devour you whole. “Hobie— baby-  you’re wearing too much.” He’d ripped his mask off upon entering, but he still has his suit on, layers upon layers getting in the way.

"I don't care. I want you now. I can't think straight." Hobie murmurs, his body trembling with desire. Hobie rips your night shirt off, exposing your bare chest. He can't get enough of you, and he's desperate to feel your body against his. He runs his fingers along your skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His touch is gentle and caring, but his body is tense with desire. 

“You don’t have to hold back, I just want you to feel better baby..” You say trailing off as you finally get his top off. Hobie throws his shirt to the side and sinks to his knees in front of you, his eyes hungrily taking you in. He takes one of your hands in his and brushes his lips against your knuckles, slowly and seductively. 

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, kissing your hand, his breath warm against your skin as his fingers softly trace along the lines of your hips. Hobie grins devilishly, his breaths are coming faster and heavier, and he's slowly moving his touch further down your body.

"You taste so good," he whispers seductively, planting soft kisses along your stomach, leaving tiny bites along your bare skin. He begins to kiss down your thighs, inching his way closer to your most sensitive area. His hot breath against you is only separated by the thin fabric of your panties, something you’re sure won’t last long. 

His warm tongue trails along the fabric, and before the gasp can leave your lips, he’s ripped the fabric off, shreds fall to the floor as he licks a long strip from your entrance to your clit, placing a wet kiss to emphasize his hunger. 

He presses his tongue flat against your core and properly tastes you and a desperate groan rumbles in his chest, reverberating on your core as he fervently licks at your entrance, occasionally sucking on your clit. One hand continues to grip the sheets but your other hand moves to his hair, tugging at it trying to pull him even closer into you. Your thighs shook, muscles tensing when the tip of his tongue pushed past your entrance to fuck you, his nose brushing against your clit.

“You taste divine,” his voice was muffled and breathy from between your legs. “I can’t get enough of you doll.”

The lewd sounds as he fucked you with his tongue and lapped at you like a man starved should’ve embarrassed you, but you were too far gone to care about anything but reaching your climax. Soon, your walls fluttered around his tongue, back arching as the tension in your stomach snapped, sending a tidal wave of pleasure across your body. You shivered in his arms and he groaned at your release, lapping up everything you had to offer him until the shaking in your muscles subsided.

He moved his face from your cunt, giving a couple final kisses on your inner thighs before speaking huskily, “How bout’ I blow your back out right here, yeah? Imma fuck you straight through this bed…” He hissed in your ear as he closed the gap between the two of you, pulling himself from his pants. 

He groans, grasping the base and holding in a frustrated sigh. Using his knees, he spreads your legs wide and drops his hips, the tip of his cock dragging through your wetness.

“Please,” you beg, your own hips lifting, chasing him, trying to notch his cock at your entrance. He teases you a moment longer, waits for the angle to be just right, and then he pushes into you. Your fingers flex against the bedsheets, mouth dropping open with a moan as his hips press into yours. Your legs twitch, quickly wrapping around his thigh. “Hobie, fuck, oh my gods-”

He laces your fingers together and pushes into you slowly, studying your face for your reaction. You let out a small gasp, struggling to keep your eyes locked with his as he begins to thrust in and out of you. He pins your hand above your hand, keeping intertwined with yours while he picks up the pace, driving his length deeper into you. He throws your legs over his shoulders and drives deeper and deeper, hitting that perfect angle inside you. You look up at him as he continues fucking you, chest slick with sweat and eyes crazed with each slam of his hips.

“Tell– Tell me how good it feels, baby,” he stutters out.

“It’s so good, Bee. So big.”

“God, you're so wet." He groans plows into you, desperate to fill you up "Yur makin’ me crazy.." His words are intoxicating and his voice is sensual as he inhales sharply, staring down at the way your union makes a cream ring.

The aphrodisiac is driving Hobie wild, every touch sends a bolt of pleasure, but every second that passes without release physically hurts. His skin is hot and sensitive, his breath ragged and his body trembling. He can't think straight, his thoughts a jumbled mess of fantasies, desires and emotions, all for you. 

You pushed Hobie away, a movement he wasn’t anticipating, and he groans at the pain, the itch only you can scratch returning. You already missed the feeling of fullness, but you wanted more. You flip to sit on your knees, back turned to Hobie as you fall to your forearms, ass up face down, and on perfect display for the man now standing at full attention behind you. 

The curve of your ass as you arched your back has him drooling, and his patience runs out, nails digging into your hips and meeting you halfway, burying himself with no time wasted. You writhed beneath his touch, his body heat was abnormally high, and with the mixing of yours, the room resembled a sauna.

Hobie’s big, there’s no doubt about that, but something about taking him from the back makes him feel impossibly bigger. He kisses your cervix with no effort and there's so much happening, so much of Hobie filling you up and flooding your senses. You swallowed your moans as you tried to focus on staying up on your knees before he pressed a kiss just under your kitchen. You feel his hands before he yanks your hair back, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Are you holding back?” he teases. You whimper pathetically as he lets go of your hair . “Don’t,” he ordered. Your thighs were quivering on either side of his body, stilling only for a moment when he gripped them tightly, his fingertips digging in harshly. His pace picked up and you couldn’t stop your body from letting out a cry in response.

You were sure that you were dripping onto the sheets but Hobie couldn’t  seem to care. He reached between you two to feel where you were stretched open around him, rubbing your clit to match the pace of his thrusts. His cock twitched inside you as his rhythm stuttered.

“Please,” you hiccupped as his pace became sloppy. He was so close, you could tell by the way he started spewing nonsense and thrusting with no inhibition. He grips the headboard for leverage, and you hear the cracking of wood as he drills into you, your mouth dropping open at the feeling, but no noise escaping. 

“Hobie,” you sobbed, your hips attempting to meet his movements as you finally tip over the edge, and he drove home once more before spilling inside you.

A ragged breath was ripped from him as he fell forward, his hand slapping against the wall of the boat. You writhed against him, your body wracked with so much overwhelming pleasure you found it hard to breathe. Everything ached. 

“Fuck, doll,” he whispers looking between your bodies, whimpering as he pulls out. He’s never felt this exhausted, body collapsing next to you as the heat in his stomach subsided. Who knew he just had to fuck it out of his system?

He hadn’t noticed his eyes had drifted shut until he heard a giggle at his side, and he fell in love a little harder. He turned his head to look at you snickering at him, “Whatchu laughin’ at doll?” 

God he sounded tired. 

You turn on your side and place a kiss on his sweaty forehead, evidence of the work he put in. A goofy grin makes its way to your face. “You feelin better now baby?”

[eezeybreezy]

Hi!

I saw requests were open and was wondering if you could write something for Hobie Brown with a chubby girlfriend?

If not it's totally okay^^

Thank you and have a great day!

I'll be overseas for a couple weeks, but hopefully I'll have time to pimp some more drabbles out, so keep em' coming!

Content Warnings: Suggestive, body issues, fem!reader, perverted Hobie, not beta read

"You alright babe?" Hobie asks casually, peeking into your shared room in search of you.

"Yeah Hobes, I'm fine."

Your previous conversation about the day had died down, the small talk fading as you critiqued your figure in the mirror. You grab and squeeze at pudge, and pinch at the squish making up your thighs. He catches on to your actions quickly, eyebrows furrowing in disapproval.

"Oi come on baby. You look good, jus need some more confidence." Hobie says, a smirk creeping into his face. He sits down on the foot of the bed, next to you. "Here, come on, turn around for me."

You turn your body towards him reluctantly, eyes lingering on the mirror a while longer, still picking at every flaw and insecurity. You look down at the comforter first, bunching it in your fists before looking up at the man in front of you. You can feel my nose burn before your eyes, a sure sign that things were getting to you.

"There you go, baby. Don't be afraid to let me look at you." Hobie's smile grows wider. "Don't be so hard on yourself." He says, before reaching out to grab and kneed your thighs, trailing to your hips. "Now let me see these curves of yours."

Hobie pauses for a second and then reaches up, gently taking the hands bunched and placing them at your sides. He grabs your waist and places you on his lap with ease. "Don't 'ave anything to worry 'bout with me doll."

You feel yourself rise on your shins subconsciously, not wanting to make him support your full body weight. He takes notice, however, and roughly grinds you back down onto his lap. Hobie's warm hands begin to caress your body, tender and earnest.

"You feel good to me," he whispers to you, “and you look even better.” Hobie slides his hands under your shirt and feels up your waist. Grinning wickedly at you before kissing you passionately, he pulls you close, flipping your positions as he pushes your back against the headboard.

"I like 'em curvy baby. And I want us to explore this a little more." Hobie says as he bites your neck. You whine at the contact and his words, something you know Hobie will take advantage of, from experience. Whenever you’re feeling insecure, he always takes his time making you feel extra special.

Hobie smiles mischievously and begins kissing up your neck towards your face. He presses up against you and leans in, whispering in your ear. "Don't you worry about it love. I'll get to every inch of you." He smiles, leaning down to cage you in. "I love it when you're all needy." He whispers in your ear, breath sending a tingle up your spine. "You know I can't help myself from spoiling you."

You huff out a breathy laugh. "Well don't stop on my account"

"Oh don't worry doll." Hobie smiles, looking at you intensely. He touches your face and runs his fingers through your hair. He caresses your cheeks, gently kissing your forehead and pushing the hair away from your face. "I absolutely adore you."

As he continues nibbling on your ear, he uses his hands to unbutton your shirt and gently pushes you onto your back. He then gets above you and smiles. "Know I want more baby. Don't you?"

[eezeybreezy]

Poll please??

I started writing and it accidentally turned from a blurb.. to a fleshed-out story. Should I work on short requests or finish another multi-part fic?

While you're here, go read The Punk and His Cat and interact. Thank you for all the positive feedback and kind words!

[eezeybreezy]

Asks and Submissions are open!

Don't be afraid to voice your requests and fantasies, I have brain rot too.

[eezeybreezy]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀᴛ pt.4 ➜ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

This is the result of Hobie brain rot. Was a lot longer than intended so now it's broken into multiple chapters.  Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

warnings: filthy SMUT , not-so-accurate accent, recreational drug/alcohol use, DEGRADATION, implied black reader, afab!reader anatomy, unprotected

You grind against the mound his multiple belts have created, earning a wince from the man below. “I don’t know Bee, how do you usually treat the women you bring home?”

Hobie chuckles a little and flushes slightly when this question is posed, rubbing the back of his neck and giving you a smirk as you grind against him. 

“Well considerin' you came through the window tonight, I think our night's been pretty different.” Both of his hands have found their way to your thighs, kneading the flesh as a way to ground himself, though you doubt that's an effective strategy. “But I usually try to make the girl feel special, you know? Try to cater to their needs and make them feel wanted and desired.” He seems to put quite a bit of emotion into the next part. “So what can I do for you darlin?”

“Anything you want, I’mall yours.” And although you’re slurring now, there’s no doubt you’re serious, still echoing the sentiment from earlier. You take a swing of my drink, finishing it off as he passes the joint back.

Hobie blinks once, and then again as he processes what you said. He watches as you grab the now smoldering joint and take a quick hit of it, thinking about your words for a second. Is she being serious? There’s no way, right?

“Are you being serious darlin’? I want you to be honest.”

“I seriously need you, Hobie-” You grab at his hands that've moved onto your hips, and he squeezes in response. “I’ve been so needy all night, and now you have me. So what are you going to do about it..” You trail off, finishing the joint. Holding the smoke in your mouth, you lean in to kiss the spider. He parts his lips ever so slightly, and accepts the shotgun effortlessly.

Hobie’s grip tightens as your lips meet. He leans in and pulls you closer, letting one arm slide around your waist as you kiss. He closes his eyes and takes in the taste of your lips and warmth, feeling a rush in his body, getting heated up, starting to get lost in his own emotions. He pulls away slightly and looks at you, taking in your beauty. He can’t help but smile when he looks at you, before leaning in and kissing you again, this time deeper, with hunger.

You break apart breathlessly between kisses. " 'Obie I love your lifestyle, but you have way too much shit on” you groan, trying to pull layers of fabric off at a time.

“You want me to take these off?” He laughs, standing and reaching for the buckle of a belt that adorns his pants. He starts to undo it, then undoes a few more of the decorative ones until he has most of the accessories off. He pauses, looking up at you for guidance.

“Should I keep going?”

“If you don’t I’ll have to rip this shit off myself.” You whisper, standing on tiptoes to meet his lips where you’ve stood.

You extend a claw to show him (and add dramatic effect), and as you trail a single long nail up his stomach, you stop to snag the collar of this spider suit. Hobie feels himself tensing up and his heartbeat quickens when you make your way up his torso. His muscles tighten even more as you snag the collar of his suit. He's trying to keep himself calm and still, but he can’t help it now.

“You gonna tear it?” He says in a whisper, his voice shaky, holding something back. Hobie sighs ever so slightly and starts to slowly take his suit off, pulling the material of his vest away and revealing his skin one piece at a time. It takes a few moments for him to get the whole thing off, but once he does he’s standing there shirtless. “There, happy?”

He grins and takes another hit of the joint, the smoke filling his lungs before he breathes it back out.

“Very much so…” You say, dragging your eyes up and down his figure. He’s lean but built, and you can tell the years of being Spider Punk have both a blessing and a curse. He has some scarring here and there, but there’s a particularly nasty one from his sternum to his happy trail. Feeling bold, you drop to your knees, and drag your tongue along the discolored skin. Hobie lets out a loud groan at that, as you take your tongue to his scar, and closes his eyes to take in the feeling. He feels that tingle run down his spine again, and a feeling of pure ecstasy wash over him. It felt like his whole body was electrified, filled with so much want as you continued to run your tongue along his scar, letting out an occasional moan to express the satisfaction he was feeling.

“That’s… ah, that’s mad… love… what’re you doin’ to me…” Hobie sighs in pleasure as you continue to brush against his skin. “You have no idea how good that feels, doll.”

You reach the top of his boxers, and tease him with a tug of teeth on the waistband. Abandoning his body, you move to untie his boots.

Hobie lets out a loud groan and gives a nod as he reaches over and helps you untie the first boot before starting to untie the other. “You’re driving me crazy darling,” he says with a smirk before grabbing a second beer and taking a long drink from it.

“That’s the point my love.”

Nails still out, you drag them back up his torso before burying them into his wicks, finding his scalp and scratching lightly as you settle back into his lap, pants flung and abandoned nearby. Hobie can feel his body being electrified by the feeling and lets out a deep moan as his muscles start to tense. As you pull your nails up his torso, he begins to run his hands up your sides, down your hips, and then down your thighs a little as he anticipates the next step.

He lets you scratch away and his smile only grows with each nail drag. He looks down and makes eye contact with you before whispering, not wanting anyone in the building to hear. “I’m all yours love, but are you ready for what’s next?”

You continue to kiss and suck at this neck, nails trailing his back and torso mindlessly. “Just waiting for you to take the lead, Brown.”

“Alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With a smirk he reaches out and grabs the back of your shirt, slowly beginning to peel it off from over your head. He gets an even bigger smile on his face when he sees you down to your underwear, burying his face in your neck to hide his goofy smile. “How can I say no to someone like you?”

“Prove how much you want me ‘Obie, I don’t want to forget tonight any time soon.” And despite your fuzzy vision and the copious amount of substances coursing through your system, you’d never been so sure of a decision, not even sober. 

Hobie smirks at you and pulls his lips away. You’re right, he needs to show you how much he wants this. He was going to ruin you for anyone else, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“You really gotta be careful what you wish for, love.” He pushes you back down onto the couch, pinning you underneath him. With a smirk he begins to drag calloused hands up your thighs, leaving small marks as rings drag along your hips and he kisses down your stomach. His hands are so big, grabbing and scratching at anything he could reach, the cold metal of his jewelry sending a shiver up your spine.

Hobie grins as he feels you shiver at his touch, a confirmation with every new sensation he’s putting you through. He keeps dragging his nails up your thighs and kisses your legs, his lips slowly moving up to your inner thigh. They twitch open instinctively, and a gasp you hadn’t meant to let out escapes your lips. Noticing the bottle still on the table, you take a swig of Henney as he kisses his way to the lining of your panties.

“I’ve been wantin’ you all day, I promise I won’t be too rough doll.” Hobie reaches the crease of your inner thigh and stops for a second, looking up and smirking. He has an almost mischievous look in his eyes as he holds you there, waiting for the go ahead to continue. “You want this to continue darlin’?”

You roll your eyes and groan, exasperated and tired of his teasing, but a smile still present on your swollen lips. “Do you want me to beg for it?”

Hobie chuckles and gives you a playful nudge on the knee as he pulls his head back, giving one last grin.

“You heard it here first, she wants me to keep going and to make her beg for it.”

“HOBERT!” You yell frustrated, but before you can get up and retaliate, he’s twipped web fluid to pin your wrists together. He’s towering over you now, and completely at his mercy.

“So you like demands? Is that what I’m hearing?” He grins down at you and brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing your hair back and away since you can’t. He looks down into your eyes as he leans in and whispers. “You want me to be rough with you, don't you?” Hobie grins at the web grabbing your wrists, holding you still. He looks down at his handiwork, in awe and proud of his own creation, and leans closer to you as his hands slide down your torso, stopping just above your hips.

He leans in and whispers into the other ear, his breath is hot against your neck, he smells like smoke.

“Say please for me.”

His tone, you’d never heard him this demanding, his cockney accent drowned out by the baritone of his voice, husky and serious. He chuckles darkly at your silence and pulls you closer to him, the spider web still binding your wrists together. “Hobie,” your voice is so breathy, as you plead with him. You don’t even know what you want, but it’s something more than this, you’re sure. He just hums, innocently - and you believe him. You fumble over your words as you try to say something coherent “Please.”

His hand is up and grabbing your face, thumb tracing your jawline and his fingertips touching the side of your face gently, a contrast to the hold he has on you. The softness in his eyes holds a stark contrast to his tone, "Now, are you ready to beg?"

His words make your hips rut up against him with a whine. “Yes, yes yes please, god I’ve been wanting you so long, Hobie, please just fuck me.”

He was feeling for your limits, trying to see how far he could go before the tears, the begging for relief. It was one of his favorite things- pushing until you’re broke. Usually it was with pleasure, overstimulation, worshiping until you were spent- and he finally had permission to have his favorite kind of fun.

“Aw you’re too sweet, love.” Hobie says as he smirks. “Well then, how about we head to the bedroom then. Lay on the edge of the bed for me, yeah?,” he hums. 

You do as you're told, skipping into his space without protest and plopping down on the mattress, legs hanging off the side. He enters immediately behind and you watch him sink, kneeling between your legs. He nudges them apart with his shoulders, looking at you intently as he slowly moves toward you. His arms come under your thighs, immediately grabbing at the supple flesh of your legs and giving a generous squeeze. 

His fingers pulled your panties to the side, and then he was on you. You felt his warm digit brush against your wetness, and you shuddered at his touch, trying your best to relax while he encircled your bundle of nerves. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been touched like this with hands that weren't your own, and his were so much bigger than yours. Bare hands trailed along your soft outer thighs, his focused eyes lingering on every detail of your warm skin. Your whine above the punk star alerted him to your status, earning you a huff of laughter from the spider. You squirm, only waiting for him as he stares at your sex, his jaw slacking ever so slightly. Christ, he knew you were wet but this was a surprise even to him. He uses a finger to touch it, laughing as you jerk at his finger dragging from your opening to the hood. 

“Needy,” he whispers and you writhe. Your hips jerk up to get some contact, and he decides not to wait any longer, one stroke of his tongue is all it takes. Hobie may be nonchalant, but his own desires fuel him enough to give you everything you could ever ask for - his tongue strokes your clit at a speed that’s so consistent it aches – how ironic. His mouth is hot and wet, and his tongue is skillful as your thighs tremble, knees weakened, and voice crying out for him in a way you didn’t know was possible. You lie there, trying to catch your breath and muddle through your thoughts, find something to say even though he already knows the gratitude that you want to convey. He doesn’t wait and you gasp - choking and tugging and falling apart as he curls two fingers into you. 

"You really do want to be used, huh? Showin’ off this leng body of yours at the club, givin’ everyone an eyeful of this ass if you bend over? You're so fucking wet..." He mutters against the skin of your inner thigh. Using both hands, he drags your hips closer, bringing your core right up against his lips, continuing to roll your sensitive nub under his thumb like before, “Keep those pretty eyes on me.” He says quickly, burying his hot tongue deep into you.

The sensation grew to be too much too fast, bringing your head back against the mattress while squeezing your eyes shut. Despite the raging heat, you felt an orgasm quickly following suit. Hobie however grabbed a handful of your ass, kneading harshly as a way of getting your attention. It worked when you felt the tight pressure in your stomach cease, meeting his narrowed gaze burn straight into yours.

“Eyes.” He growled. “Or this stops.”

You obeyed, you had to. You’d be driven mad if he stopped again.

He watches you intently, eyes burning with lust as you feel his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thigh, those familiar black nails leaving indents on your skin. Your grip on his wicks tighten as the sensation begins to shift into something a little overwhelming, every muscle in your body seizing as pleasure washes over you in waves, an ecstatic sob catching in your throat as you mindlessly call out his name. 

His breath is hot against your pussy when he laughs at the sight of you squeezing your eyes shut again and throwing your head back like that, seemingly amused by how well of a job he’s done, licking languidly as he allows you to gradually come down from such a brilliant high. “Wanted to do that for so long," he muttered, half to you, half to himself.

Your glossy eyes flutter open at the loss of stimulation even though the lingering sensation is more than enough, barely capable of catching your breath as you eagerly meet his gaze again. His hair is tousled and unkempt, mouth still wet from your arousal as he presses a kiss on your inner thigh. “Are you satisfied love?” Hobie asks when you look coherent enough to respond. A sigh is all you can manage in response. 

“That’s a pity,” Hobie replies as he begins to crawl back up the length of your body. Painstakingly, he peppers kisses along the outline of your neck and jaw until his mouth arrives just below your ear with a hushed whisper, “Because there’s so much more I want to do to you.” 

Your stomach tightens almost instantly, turning your head to see the devastatingly sinister grin that’s found itself on his face, and before you can respond you feel his lips against yours. His enthusiasm is overwhelming, almost to the point where you forget the lingering taste of yourself that sits sweetly on his tongue. 

"I knew there was a little brat somewhere in there, a dirty girl that wanted nothing more than to be used." You were suddenly on your stomach again, then your knees as he yanked your hips roughly off his comforter. You heard the metallic clink of his last belt as he unhooked it with one hand, the other shoving your head into his push pillows, granting him a full view of your backside. You bit your lip, anticipating, breathing in the scent of him that filled the room around you. 

Instead of being deliciously filled, you feel the leather of his belt loop around your neck and pull you up harshly, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the man behind you, finding none as he swats them away.

“I want to hear that filthy mouth of yours beg some more, darling,” he whispered directly into your ear. “You wanted a challenge? Beg for me, and I’ll reward you.”

Whatever Hobie Brown wants, he gets. 

Your mind ran, heartbeat racing, and your breaths growing shorter. Tears welled up in your eyes, feeling frustrated and oh so hot. Your throat and pride burned, ‘Please, please, please,’ are the only words you seem to remember and he adores the sound. His fingers grip your thighs, bruising as you finally, finally feel him pressed against your entrance.

“To be honest,” his voice is low and gravelly when he speaks to you, and it lights a fucking fire in you again, “I’ve been thinking about fucking you recklessly for the last two months, I can barely handle myself around you right now,” and it kills you because he sounds so serious, desperate. Your thighs try to press together naturally, and you whisper out a final plea and it’s the nail in the coffin.  

He yanks the belt again, forcing you to look back at him in the eyes. “And now you’re all mine.”

He leans forward a little, using his hand to line up his length against your slit, holding his breath as you feel your heart hammer in your chest in anticipation. Once it’s done there’s no going back to how things were before, even though you have already come this far. 

Immediately, he snaps his hips with a force that knocks you breathless. In any other position, you would’ve been completely limp, yet his hands are wrapped securely around your hips, digging into the plush skin. There’s a little resistance at first as your body adjusts to such an unfamiliar stretch, a shiver running through you as you feel yourself stretch around him even before he’s made it all the way in, his earlier foreplay making the experience much easier despite his immense size. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.” His voice strains as he speaks.

Hobie is aggressive with it – a far cry from his usual exchanges with you – and yet you take him so well. He’s jackhammering you, nailing you to the bed each and every time with a ferocity even he didn’t know he was capable of. He shifts his position to bury himself in you at a sharper angle, the expression on his face dark and feverish as his strong hands mimic the belt secured on your neck, fucking you into the mattress roughly. His dick rearranges your inside with such brutality you feel like you'll come away with bruises flowering your tanned skin after this. It burns and aches and feels so good as he rocks against your g-spot over and over and over. 

“Fuck -” He hisses at the tightness when you clench around him, the muscles in his legs contracting as he can feel himself approaching his own end at the sight of you so wonderfully undone. There’s no reason to hold back anymore, but he can’t help and close his eyes to try and last a little longer. He’s throbbing at how wonderful you feel as your back arches impossibly farther, a series of desperate groans escaping your throat as he pounds into you and gives himself over. 

“You’re just a toy for me to use however I want huh?” He grabbed a fistful of your hair, craning your neck at a deliciously painful angle as he rammed into you doggy style.

“But you like that, don’t you? That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

It was insanely hot, HE was insanely hot – and your walls clenched tightly around him as the words process, an involuntary announcement to him that you were really, really enjoying this.

Head pushed back down on the bed, you could do nothing but moan for the man to fuck you harder as he kept guiding you towards another orgasm. And you could be nothing but grateful as another wave of pleasure washed over your body, making your already weak form shudder.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ break you,” he spat, angling even deeper, suddenly assaulting your G-spot with the head of his dick. “That’s all you deserve, my little bitch.”

SMACK!

His hand came down on your ass, the feeling making you jump. Your face burned for a moment, eyes filled with tears, and stars clouded your vision. Looking over your shoulder (the best you could manage), you watch ‘your’ man stare back with hungry eyes, thrusting erratically now, starting to feel a familiar burn in his blood. You were feeling the same kind of pressure, your legs tensing as you tried to prepare your body, sore from the extent of his demonstrations. He leans down, pressing his chest against your back covered in a sheen of sweat, biting at your neck.

“You’re mine, fuck a label.”

The phrase threw you unexpectedly over the edge, pussy clamping down and pulling him over with you. He slammed into you so hard you felt like he was fucking up into your stomach. Hobie doesn’t have the capacity to pull out as he comes, gratification and lust dulling all thought or reason he has as he finishes inside, all the tension in his body unraveling as he stutters and comes to a stop, his chest heaving as his breath begins to catch up on him.  His breath comes in heaves, yours in whimpers. A thin string of fluids connects his tip to your entrance for a moment when he pulls out, and like a lewd spiderweb, breaks against the sheets.

You collapsed onto your stomach, feeling every bit of the phrase ‘fucked silly’, bottom half convulsing and pulsing. He quickly gets up to grab a towel from one of the drawers so that he can clean up the mess ya’ll just made, his cum spilling out of you just as he returns. 

His hand reached over to find yours, interlocking your sweaty hands. He looks back up and meets your gaze – a soft affectionate expression etched onto his face that makes your heart murmur. 

You’re so glad that you chose him, and as far as you can tell he feels exactly the same. 

“I’m sorry,” He chuckles as he wipes you down. “I got a little carried away.”  

[eezeybreezy]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀᴛ pt.3 ➜ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

This is the result of Hobie brain rot. Was a lot longer than intended so now it's broken into multiple chapters.  Part 1 Part 2 Part 4🔞

(Sorry if this one is shorter than the others, it was a weird scene to break up)

warnings: tension👀 , not-so-accurate accent, recreational drug/alcohol use, , punk shit, eventual smut, implied black reader

Stepping into the cool night, you feel the urge to compliment the man you’ve been ogling all night. “I fuck with your wicks heavy btw, it was cool to see another black vigilante / super person.

“Black and proud, that’s the Punk way.”

You hear the ting of pride in his voice, and it makes him sound almost cocky. He smiles and offers you a hand to take. He has a mischievous grin on his face. You try to change the subject before embarrassing yourself further, “I’m up for anything, you wanna walk like normal people or take the rooftop? Is swinging while intoxicated considered a DUI?”

“Let’s take the rooftops.”

The words seem to leap out of his mouth as soon as they leave your lips. He smiles excitedly, obviously eager to have some fun. “I’ve had some practice swinging drunk, you’ll be fine love. Don’t worry.”

He reaches his hands up to the roof and lets out a quick laugh, not seeming fazed by the prospect of drinking and swinging at the same time.

You giggle, “I hope we don’t regret this.” clinging to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he scales the wall.

“I’m certain we won’t love. How could we ever regret spending such a beautiful night together?”

he flirts, giving you a wink and your ass a quick squeeze. “I promise I’ll make sure you stay safe.”

He waits for her to uncling to him before he starts running and they leaping onto the next roof, landing with a small roll and then immediately taking off again, faster than they would’ve been able to walk. You quickly run to catch up to the punk, jumping the gap between buildings. You’re both gaining momentum quickly, and soon enough you’ve matched his speed. As they gain speed, you feel the cold air fly by and it’s as liberating as ever. You fly through the air together, both laughing as you go. Hobie doesn’t slow down too much though, and you’re almost at the apartment building he lives in already. He looks at the building and turns to you, 

“Almost there mate, you ready for the finale?”

You chuckle, showing off the pearly whites he’s so enamored with, “And what would that be exactly?” The wind picks up around you, making it hard to hear and even harder to concentrate in your intoxicated state. This was fun.

You tease him back, matching him in pace and wit.

“You’ll see in a second, darling.”

He grins mischievously at you and turns back to face the apartment building. “Hold on tight love, we’re about to hit the big jump.”

He lets out a cackle right before jumping off of the roof, flying towards the window he lives in. To make the jump, he opts to go faster and faster by spinning in mid air. As he lands in his window, he makes sure to steer clear of the landing, and you pick up the pace as you approach the ledge. To play it safe (none of this is), you opt to drop to all fours, pushing yourself to make this jump. You push off the ledge, cracking the concrete as you push off. 

Hobie notices the cracking ledge, and is very impressed he’ll admit. He watches you the whole time and smiles when you make the jump. Your landing is cleaner than his and you look at him, grinning as you land. He smiles back, but deep down he’s wondering how much power is in those legs of yours, and just what else your thighs can do.

You’re the first to speak as we puts the drinks in the fridge. “It smells like you in here, which isn’t a bad thing btw, though I’d thought you’d be musty being punk and all.”

He chuckles at that, head still in the fridge. “Now that’s definitely one I’ve never heard before. You’ve got jokes.” he grabs them a couple beers. “Want one?”

He leans against the fridge and looks at you, trying to get a sense of what you think about his place. He hasn’t brought anyone back here before, and he’s a little nervous about your reaction. He’s also more than a little curious to see how this goes over.

You look around, getting a vibe of this living room when a vinyl player catches my eye. “I don’t really like beer, care to pour me sum Henney tho?” Your fingers brush against the surprising wide variety of albums he has stored. You lean in and check out the records sitting on the shelf. Some look familiar to you, while others seem new and almost otherworldly. There are a lot of different records, enough to fill the shelves and even a good handful sitting off to the side. 

“Sure thing!” He grabs a glass from one of the cabinets and pulls out the bottle of Henney. “Let me know when to stop adding it” he pours it out into the glass and waits for her to tell him when to stop. “So you like records? I’ve been putting the collection together my whole life.”

He sounds a little bit proud of it. And you’d be happy to indulge him. 

“I was just thinking to myself that despite coming from a different universe, most of these albums are the same ones I have back home. Didn’t picture you for an R&B type tho, that’s good to know.” You gaze at him with the same sultry look as before. “You can stop pouring now.”

He stops pouring and hands the glass off to you as he leans against the wall and smiles. “I’ve got some variety, for sure.”

 “You have a good taste in music, but you know that.” I smile goofily up at him, still so taken by how handsome he was. “So, do actually you get to spend any time here, this is a cute place you got/”

He grins and walks past you, sitting down on the couch. “Thank you. It’s not much, but for me it’s a very nice space where I can just unwind and be myself. I’m here every night actually.”

He pats his lap inconspicuously. “Do you want to sit? It’ll be better than standing and talking.” He grins at you, looking around for any spaces that you’d be comfortable going to, trying his best to be a gentleman. Despite the plenty of space on the couch he decided to sit on, you still opt to sit as close to him as possible, and put your drink on the table.

“I’ll roll for us this time, can I get sum more of that tree tho?” You ask sweetly, draping your legs over his lap, and grabbing the rolling tray he’d abandoned on his coffee table.

He chuckles a little and grins when you sit on his lap. “I was wondering when this was coming. Yeah go ahead, just try not to make a mess." He sits back a little, trying to give you as much room as he can while you sit on him and roll.

The way he’s sitting and tilts his head back has you practically drooling. The way his piercings sit on his face, the gaze that seems to bore into you, the plump lips you want to kiss again and again. You start rolling a little quicker, before he catches you starting you notice him open his eyes from the relaxed position you are on the couch. Eventually you’re wrapping up, and Hobie finds himself looking at you, taking in every single one of your features in the moment. You seem to be taking your time and he lets you work, just staring until he hears the sound of you wrapping up and looks back. 

“You got it rolled up already?”

You almost reply, but you instead make a show out of the finishing touches, licking your lips while peering up at Hobie, licking the paper to seal it up while looking between those big brown eyes and his full dark lips. 

Hobie watches you and enjoys the whole show being put on, smirking when you look up and makes eye contact with him, his eyes twinkling with some unknown emotion. 

“Looks good to me darling. You ready to smoke it?” He asks grinning, and reaches for it.

You pull the joint back from his prying hands. “I believe I deserve some compensation for my services first Punk.”

Hobie snorts when you pull the joint away, and settles on putting a hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it as you both sit on the couch. He waits for you to pass him the joint, “I guess I can’t argue with that. What do you want?”