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fishsticksloser · 1 year

Note

Can I request

Hobie x fem reader

The reader tries to keep Hobie a secret from her toxic family but Hobie ended up meeting them.

Thank you ❤️

Family Business

Hobie x fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, toxic family, angst, Hobit is a flirty bastard..., a bit of insecurity, Hobie tries to help you rebel cause that's what he does..., Mr. Hobart Brown is now a life coach...

A/N: I'm with you on this one, I wouldn't want him to meet some of my family. This became a lot longer than anticipated...

Sometimes it was a little exhausting keeping Hobie from your family. You tried not to be around your family at all, but sometimes it was unavoidable.

"Hey, Hobie?" You walk into the kitchen where Hobie was making lunch. You wring your hands anxiously. "My family is coming over so... Could you not be in the apartment tomorrow? I'm sorry its such late notice..."

"Oh?" He questions, turning to face you. "What's the occasion?" A wide grin pulling at his lip, eyes sparkling. He's never met your family, he finds himself intrigued by them though. Are they really that bad? "Sure. I'll find something to do." Hobie shrugs, it must be important if you're asking him to leave.

"They just decided they wanted to pop in. I just found out and they'll be here tomorrow afternoon." You sigh, a bit relieved that he was so understanding. "I'm really sorry."

"It's no big deal." Hobie reassures you with a smile. "Do they give you trouble or something?" He raises an eyebrow, concerned.

"Ah, well, yes..." You shrug lightly. "Mostly if they saw you, it'd be a whole thing." You make 'blow up' gestures.

"Oh, like a 'No Boys, Ever!' kina thing?" He asks, a bit of sarcasm in his tone. He chuckles a little, glancing down at you.

"No. No." You shake your head and frown slightly. "More of a 'why are you with this gorgeous man, you must be paying him' kinda thing and then it'll blow up, and..."

"Are you saying I'm too good looking for you?" Hobie queries, nudging your shoulder.

"You were a runway model, so yeah."

"Hey, I had to pay my rent somehow. They'll be up in your business about it, huh? I can handle that. No need for me to leave unless it'll make things harder for you."

"Believe me, once they see you and start asking questions, you'll wish you hadn't stayed."

"You can't be serious... They're not that shallow and superficial, are they?"

"Dead serious."

"Do you usually let them pressure you into doing things their way? Because if so, I think this is the perfect time for you to draw a hard line and not bend to their will. It could be good for you."

"I don't follow their rules anymore since I don't live with them, but if they knew that..."

"Would they disown you?"

"No. They'd keep me from seeing the family I actually do want to be around. If they knew about you, well... Are you prepared for them to accuse you of being in it for money? For only being here because I'm paying you?"

The words hit Hobie like a slap to the face, his eyes go wide as he absorbs what you've said. That's their first reaction? Why? What kind of family would ever consider saying something like that?

"So what... They think you're alone...? Single and celibate?"

"Uh... Yeah, yep." You confirm.

He's at a loss for words. This is... absurd. There are no words to describe how Hobie feels right now. How he feels about your parents, the situation you're in.

"You're family is f-" He starts, but quickly corrects himself. "Insane."

"Say it with your chest." Encouraging him to say whatever he wants.

He doesn't want to upset you, but this... this doesn't sit right with him. "Your parents are fucking crazy." He utters, glaring at the ceiling. His anger only seems to grow. "How could someone like you come from that? Who do they think they are controlling you? Dictating who you date, who you sleep with, if you can live your like freely? Have you ever thought about cutting them out of your life?"

"Pure luck?" You jest, trying to cheer him up with a joke to his first question. "I've thought about cutting them off, but that'll cut ties with family I do want to see."

Hobie snorts at your little joke, but he loses the small smile as you continued. "Still. You shouldn't have to do that. I mean, do you let them dictate the rest of your life? The way you look, they way you act, who you love?"

"Considering you're here... Absolutely not, but under no circumstances am I putting you in their line of fire." You answer quickly, shaking your head slightly.

"I can handle it." He replies with a shrug. He says that, but you know the thought of being in front of your family makes him uncomfortable. He was ready to do it for you though. That alone speaks volumes about how far he'd go to help you. "Your family can't keep getting away with controlling your life like this... What are you going to do? Just let them push you around for the rest of your life? Let them manipulate you into doing whatever they want?"

"What will pushing back accomplish? It'll cut me off from family."

"How is doing nothing better? You're just letting them walk all over you and control you like a puppet! Don't you want your life back?"

"It's not that simple."

"Life is never easy. Some people are luck, but others - like us- are born into difficult circumstances. But that doesn't mean we have to let the hardships stop us from living. Maybe it's not simple. Maybe it means making difficult decisions, taking a stand, or fighting for what we want. But we can do that - we have to."

🎸⋆⁺₊⋆♱🕷♱⋆⁺₊⋆🎸

It'd been a month or so since that night, but you'd blocked your parents on everything. Now you felt more comfortable sharing your personal life, and Hobie. You had fought like hell to get to this point, but you did it. It was one hell of a victory to win and you celebrated.

At first you took your freedom for granted, maybe you still do. No matter what, you knew there was no going back. You were free and planned to stay that way.

You wandered together beneath the hot London sun, through the concessions during a Spider-Man festival, you found it a bit humorous since the man behind the mask was holding your hand. Hobie's mood is contagious, you find yourself smiling as well. How could you not? Everything is so energetic, everyone is so excited and in good spirits, ready to have a good time.

"Do you ever feel weird about all this?" You ask as you weave through the throngs of people. "People throwing festivals and stuff in your honor but having no clue it's you?"

"Honestly?" He answers with a soft laugh. "Sometimes, yeah. I never really get used to it. People are obsessed with Spider-Man, so when they start acting like complete geeks over him, it makes me feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone or something. I'd never complain about it though." He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling your back against his chest as you stand in line. "Especially if it means seeing you smile like this..."

"Cheesy bastard..." You huff playfully, wrapping your hands around his forearms.

"Damn right I am." He cackles, pulling you closer. "Admit it! You love my lame puns and bad one-liners. You can't get enough of them!" He dips his head down and kisses you, lingering for a moment. He's not done flattering you though. "See? You're addicted to me..."

You laugh, opening your mouth to start denying everything. "Y/N?" You hear a familiar voice call and you freeze. Hobie pulls his head back, immediately picking up on your discomfort. He pulls you impossibly closer, searching for the source of your anxiety. He finally spots it. A stranger, well to him at least.

"Do you know her?" He whispers, still holding you close.

"That's my mom..." You mumble. You turn away from her, hoping she didn't see you.

"What do you think she wants?" He asks in a rushed whisper. "How do we deal with this?"

"I wish you could turn invisible..." You mutter, trying to think of something.

Before Hobie even has a chance to think of a response, your mom is right in front of you. "Y/N!" She cries, pulling you out of Hobie's grasp and into a big hug. "You're so skinny! You're not eating enough, that explains why we haven't heard from you in weeks!" Her eyes flicker over to Hobie as she lets go. "Who the hell are you?"

"This is Hobie... My... um..." You try, but Hobie doesn't like labels. There's no word to really describe your relationship.

Hobie immediately picks up on your issue, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. "We're together. An item..." He answers, a bit hesitant but firm.

"An item? You can't even tell me what your relationship actually is?" Your mom asks, smiling almost smugly. "So... She's paying you?"

"Paying me?" Hobie grits, looking at you before shooting your mother a glare. He's livid, grabbing your waist and pulling you back against him. He can't believe she'd say something so underhanded and insidious.

"Oh please." Your mother rolls her eyes. "Like you'd ever go for someone like my daughter without some sort of payment."

Hobie's anger nearly boils over; he's ready to get in your mother's face and start screaming. Instead, he takes a deep breath and speaks calmly, his voice dripping with sarcasm and spite. "What do you want from us, lady? An apology? An explanation? Because I'm not apologizing for loving your daughter and I don't owe you a damn thing."

"Loving my daughter?" Your mom laughs snidely. "Look at her. You could have anyone and you 'picked' her?"

Hobie's anger gives way to confusion as your mother's cruel words register. How could someone be so heartless? Who says something like that about their own child? As though you were some sort of object - an object that isn't worth any sort of love. "You have no idea what you're talking about so why don't you keep your mouth shut?"

"Excuse me?" Your mom glares daggers at Hobie.

"Did I stutter? Is your hearing okay?" Hobie snaps, his tone venomous. His jaw clenched with anger, he doesn't care what your mother thinks of him. He wants nothing more than to tear her apart, but he holds himself back. Refusing to stoop to her level.

Your mother huffs angrily and stomps away, you finally relax against Hobie's chest. "You didn't have to do that..."

"Yes, I did." He replies, frowning. He can still feel the residual anger and hatred radiating from him. "I'd do it a hundred times over if it meant protecting you. No one - and I mean no one - is going to talk to you that way while I'm alive. No one."

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his waist in a tight hug, hoping to relieve some of his anger. Hobie immediately accepts, pulling you closer. For a moment all he can do is hold you, breathing in the sweet smell of your hair. His grip tightens around you, his anger fading away. He rests his head against your head, eyes closing as he keep ahold of you.

"Did you mean what you said?" You mumble into his chest, your voice slightly muffled.

He goes still, pondering your question. "Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?" His voice is calm and soft. "It's the truth. I won't let anyone treat you that way." Hobie kisses the top of your head, his voice filled with determination.

"Not that." You laugh, shaking your head. "You said you 'wouldn't apologize for loving me...' Did you mean it?"

"Oh. That." He pauses for a moment. "Um... Yeah. I meant it."

"That's good." You nod thoughtfully. Hobie seems a bit anxious, waiting for you to reciprocate. "I love you too."

After a few seconds, a smile breaks out on his face. He leans down and presses his lips to yours - a gentle show of affection.

#{fish answers•°}#{jojo-munson•°}#sony spiderverse #beyond the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderverse #spiderpunk #hobie brown x reader #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie my beloved #atsv hobie #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman

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phoenixinthefiles · 8 months

Text

Genuine

I apologize it took me almost 2 months to write bcus I hate discussing feelings that much Warnings: v self indulgent like this some self-discovery type stuff

@vhstown (also lmk if you wanna be tagged or something)

Your book slipped from your lap as you laughed and failed to catch your breath.

Hobie, the source of your amusement, started at you stale faced. Unfortunately for him, this only made you laugh harder.

“Wait,” you gasped out, still trying to catch your breath.

He continued to sideye you as he spoke, “Yeah it’s hilarious, nearly drowned in the Thames, but as long as you’re amused.”

You managed to contain your giggles enough to get your breathing under control and you leaned on his shoulder looking up at him with your best innocent look.

“I’m so happy you didn’t die, darling,” you said, trying your best to copy his accent.

He rolled his eyes at your antics but you could see the small smile he was failing to hide.

You grinned mischievously and he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Hobie Brown, punk extraordinaire, trips into the River Thames mid performance; sounds like a headline. Oh wait…it is one.”

You cackled at your joke, but stopped when he pushed you and you nearly fell into a candle.

“Hobart Brown! I could’ve burned myself.”

“Thought you would’ve laughed it off since you find near-death experiences amusing.”

You snickered and shook your head, “You are so dramatic.”

“Nah, you’re just heartless.”

“Don’t you know how to swim?” you asked.

He glared at you instead of responding.

You gasped, “you don’t?”

He scoffed, “‘Course I do, but I was fifteen and pissed out my mind.”

“So you flailed around like little girl? sounds like a serious lack of survival instincts to me.”

He lunged for you and you reared back, putting your hands up in surrender.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry I’ll leave you alone.”

He narrowed his eyes at you but he sat back down.

You smirked and muttered, “for now.”

His head jerked back to you and you gave him another innocent look.

He just shook his head at you again.

You watched him for a moment before remembering what you were doing before you nearly laughed yourself to death.

You had rambled to Hobie a week ago about wanting to make a reading nook where you could sit with a blanket and read your favorite books.

After you complained about being bored earlier in the day, he invited you to hang out on his boat and the two of you spent about two hours finding all of his books and making a fort.

It was cramped, and the height of the stacked books made you slightly claustrophobic, but it was still cozy. And it’s not like you hated being close to Hobie.

The candles were his idea, even though you told him it was a fire hazard.

You found your book you dropped, and dusted it off before finding your spot to pick up where you left off.

You found your focus shifting from the book to the conversation you two just had.

Everyone has been embarrassed at least once in their life, It shouldn’t have surprised you like it did.

Hobie was human, humans get embarrassed.

But still…

“Can’t read your mind.”

Hobie’s voice interrupted your thoughts and he turned towards you.

“Hm?” You asked.

“You got a question. Can tell by the way the your looking,” He tilted his head and gave you a lazy smirk. “It’s easier to tell when people with smaller brains are gearing up for a question, their brain can’t really contain it.”

You roll your eyes. You did have a question, but the reason he knew that wasn’t because your brain is small.

Not everyone can be genius.

“Ok. Why are you living in a boat if you had such a mortifying experience with water? I mean personally, I wouldn’t-

You’re cut off by your own laughter as you leap up and dodge him as he lunges for you again.

You’re fast as you dart away, but his legs are longer and he’s much more agile. You almost knocked a candle over trying to get up.

Should’ve ignored his suggestion for those.

He catches up to when you run into the door leading out to deck, bumping your hip harshly into the frame.

He saves you before you can faceplant into the many plants and flowerpots he has cluttering the deck.

You groan as you try to catch your breath, trying in vain to rub out the sting in your hip.

Hobie doesn’t aid in your efforts at all. He digs his long fingers into your ribs as you laughed breathlessly and tried to dodge his fingers.

He doesn’t let up when you trip over your own feet trying to back away from him.

He smoothly slows down your fall, somehow managing to keep a good grip on you even though his fingers are constantly moving and you’re squirming like hell. Stupid guitarist hands.

Speaking of, the rhythm he’s strumming into your ribs is akin to the song he was playing earlier…

“Ok,” you gasp, “I give up I’m sorry!”

He doesn’t let up at all.

“Nahh, it’s a bit late for that, where’s all that energy from before huh?”

“It’s gone” you grit out, still tying, in vain, to squirm away.

“Hobie pleaseee,” you beg. Well it was more of a wheeze.

He continues spidering his fingers up and down your ribcage, pretending to give thought to your plea. “Don’t know if I can do that love, still haven’t heard a good apology.”

You whine and squirm a little more but eventually give in.

“Ok, ok I'll apologize," you gasp out and he leans back, finally.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sure the performance was amazing and the dive just amplified it. Y’know the unpredictable nature of punks and that?”

He snorts and stands to his feet, pulling you up to stand in front of him.

“Your apology was still rubbish, but you recovered in the end.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned into his chest, still panting like a dog.

He wraps his arms around you pulling you even closer, softie.

You finally regain control of your lungs and took a deep breath inhaling the scent of leather and scented smoke wafting off of Hobie, you probably smelled the same considering the candles.

He rested his chin on the top of your head and you knew he was probably still waiting on you to ask your question from earlier.

“I was surprised that you got embarrassed.” You muttered out, feeling a bit stupid as you did so.

He pulled back slightly and gave you a confused look. You sighed and pulled back further turning to lean against the very short railing wrapping around the deck. Yet another hazard, if he wasn’t careful he might fall off this boat.

“I know it’s kinda dumb, but I was surprised. I mean embarrassment kinda requires you to care what people think and you being you…” You trailed off.

He nodded and tilted his head back and forth a few times before responding, “I don’t care what they think, but feelings don’t really respond to logic.”

"No they certainly don't," you mumble.

You can't really describe the tightening in your chest and the pressure in your brain, and you don't really want to.

Unfortunately for you...

Hobie knocks his knuckles against your forehead, wordlessly communicating exactly what he emans.

You roll eyes and take another deep breath before you respond.

"You wear everything on your sleeve; everything about you screams-genuine. And sure you've got a lot of other things going on but you don't...hide. I just don't understand it I guess. Not everybody does that and-

"I don't hold a grudge against you for it."

You're not surprised at the interruption, more at the fact that he read you so well.

You grimace and look away to gather yourself before you speak again.

"I-I know that but sometimes I worry."

He hums and pulls your hands into his, fidgeting with the ring he made that rests on your middle finger.

You're grateful for the distraction and direct your eyes down to your connected hands as you continue.

"I don't wanna say the wrong thing, and you not even be able to get what I mean because I can't...show it."

You shrug and let your hands fall out of his, subconsciously closing yourself off while you try to breathe through the straining in your sternum.

He places his hands on your shoulder and gently rubs his hands up and down your arms. It's not that you need to be warmed up, but the action calms you down and breathing becomes much easier.

You look up at him and he gives you that stupid smirk of his.

The one that made you fall in love with him.

"I've known you for a while now doll; you think you're closed off and cold, but you're not. You're a lil' emotionally stunted-"

You roll your eyes, while his twinkle.

"But I don't fault you for it. What's the point in being the same anyway, weren't made for it y'know? You're plenty expressive; I can see it in your eyes, in your body language, in that little lip twist you do when you're trying to be nice."

He brings you closer to him, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other one the railing behind you.

"You've let me in, I'm not going anywhere."

You give him a small smile and he matches it before tilting your chin up and leaning down to give you a kiss.

You return it and your smile widens when you pull away.

It drops in the very next second when you hear thud from inside the boat and the distinct sound of fire scorching paper.

Your eyes widen and you push away from to run back inside.

You bump your hip on the door frame again but you ignore the pain and scramble to put out the fire that's singed your book.

Luckily, you caught it before it could really spread and only the corner of the book is burnt.

Hobie snorts from the doorway and you turn to glare at him.

"Well I've got a idea of what you're feeling now."

You huff and shake your head, " I told you it was a fire hazard."

He shrugs, "It was pretty. 'Sides you've got quick reflexes; you caught it in time."

You smirk and toss the book to the ground, better to not have anything in your hands when you run.

"Yeah I do, they're really quick. I definitely wouldn't have have tripped off a boat and forgot I knew how to swim."

As soon as you finish your sentence you take off, and damn him for being a giant because he's right on your heels.

i did it 😭😭😭✊🏾

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown fic #atsv hobie #spider punk #hobie brown #fromphoetou

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kairiscorner · 1 year

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hi hii, if it's possible can i have a hobie x reader qhere hobie is dating reader who is like, a cottagecore girl, more calm and peaceful from him, and she loves to crochet, cook, and pretty much like a mother to him

thank you very much!! don't forget to drink water

HELLO :DDD oh wait ,,, THAT'S SO CUTE????? omg i wanna do this justice, thank you for the prompt and reminder to drink water anon :> YOU TOO OK !!!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

hobie x cottagecore fem!reader

when people look at hobie brown, they get many mixed impressions of him. he comes off as a rebellious, stubborn, punk–and that's putting it lightly. he's a firecracker of a boy, always unpredictable, and incredibly consistent at being inconsistent. he lives his life as a bohemian, disregarding the homogenous flow of society and moving at his own pace, marching to the beat of his own drum. he has said before he doesn't believe in commitment–but his past self never finished that thought. he meant he didn't believe in commitment... until you entered his life and changed everything about him and influenced the way he saw many things in his life that he believed he was so sure of, and in the best damn way possible.

you were the only person in the entire spider society whom he never, ever found a problem or had a squabble with. he found faults and hypocrisies in many of the people he works with. he doesn't necessarily argue with just anyone he disagrees with or doesn't see eye-to-eye with, he just finds it difficult to want to do anything but finish a mission with them. but you were the sole exception. despite being very rough around the edges in the eyes of a vast majority of people--most of them being people who make mere assumptions of him based on how he presents himself--there's only one person who can bring a rare softness out of the guy, and that person is none other than your pleasant, tender, affectionate self.

hobie, despite how confident and daring he may appear, or how flashy he may be, becomes a complete and total sweetheart around you, his dearest. his intimidating aura reduces, or completely goes away, when you're around--brightening up his day with your oh-so amiable grin whenever you look up at the boy who towers over you, you becoming flustered in an instant as his dark brown eyes meet your one lovely, darling ones that just illuminate his world, no matter how dark it gets.

"why, you look stunning, my love." he compliments you as your outfit, a stark contrast from his punk and grungy attire, enraptures him entirely. he's fighting the need to want to pick you up, embrace you, and hold you in his arms--take you wherever you want, so long as you stay with him like this. you let a bashful grin show on your face as hobie eyes you up and down and chuckles at how absolutely adorable you're being right now. "oh, hobart..." you playfully chide him for flattering you as you're getting bashful and flustered in the face, and he's getting cockier and cockier with you by the second. "yes, my one and only, dearest?" he teasingly asks you as he places his hands on your cheeks.

he kneads the flesh of your cheeks as if you were a squishy toy, his favorite squishy toy you were, actually. he loves playing with you in his hands, you didn't mind, you loved it as much as he did. "people are gonna stare..." you said with a light giggle as hobie chuckled yet again. "let's give them a show, then." he says with a low voice, one that makes you melt like butter when it graces your ears. you giggled, yet again, and your bewitching giggling sends hobie off the edge, and he takes the plunge.

when you giggle or let out peals of laughter out of sheepishness, he finds himself wanting to move closer to you, bring himself to your level and show you a devious looking smirk of his and just... kiss you. if you had told him before you were comfortable with hobie kissing you without having to ask for your permission first, then honey, you are never gonna be left alone by this boy, i swear. he loves kissing you, he loves planting kisses on you, just his lips touching and roaming anywhere you're comfortable with him feeling over. he's whisper sweet, sweet nothings into your ear while you giggle and tell him to stop. "why should i? people have to know we're together, right? you said so, love." he reminds you. you playfully roll your eyes at him, but you didn't argue, you did in fact wish for your relationship together to be made public.

a lot of people were surprised at how you and hobie were together; of all people in the spider society, the most nurturing, innocent, and darling of them all was seeing the most badass, ruthless, turbulent member of them all--who was on the brink of being kicked out, that, or quitting, due to how hypocritical and closed-minded a lot of people there really were. you were drawn to hobie for many things; for his stubbornness, his will to fight, his confidence which always shone through, how uncharacteristically consistent he was at treating you like you weren't naive, that you weren't a child anymore, and that you were worthy of respect just like everyone here in the spider society.

hobie had honestly never thought you were immature for being so trusting and helpful, he never thought you were gullible for being the way you were. a lot of people had believed you were childish, what with you dressing up in more modest, pure, and... for lack of a better word, childlike to everyone else. they mocked you for it in subtle ways; commenting on how other girls your age dress a little more brave than how you dress, or how, it's cute, just... not something girls your age would consider as wardrobe options. and those comments made you feel a little ashamed of what you liked, but before you could even change yourself, one boy stood up for you. "i think you look gorgeous."

"your style's so unique, i've never seen anyone quite like you." he said with a flustered look on his face, which caused you to appear flustered, too. he smiled up at you, putting two fingers of his underneath your chin, smirking. "hey..." he said as he turned your head to face the tall, dark complexioned boy. he was a little intimidating at first, but his touch was so gentle, so comfortable, so... peaceful. he was a completely different person around you.

"keep doing what you do, yeah? don't let those hypocritical, single-minded idiots tell you what you should do or wear. i personally love your outfit, you look really, really... charming." he says with a bigger smirk. "aww, thank you." you said as you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. you scratched a little at your cheek, still grinning like a dork at hobie's compliments. "'course, besides, they're just jealous you look good in such lovely clothes they could never pull off." he said as he placed a hand on your shoulder. "see you 'round." he said as he pulled his hand away from your shoulder as he placed them in his vest pockets.

his hands felt so snug, so pleasant; his touch was the one thing that proved to you that the names, labels, and traits people claim he, the reckless spider punk, had. he was a friendly fellow, and though he appeared daunting to some at first, to you, he had spunk, he had moxie, he was so cool. as hobie walked away, you had the courage to tell him, in a meek albeit spirited voice, "and you're wondrous."

hobie stopped in his tracks when your melodic voice sang throughout the air around him, and he turned around, a deeper blush than before tinting his beautiful, darkened complexion. he grinned and chuckled. "aren't you just a sweetie? y'know, i'd... love to hang out with you, if you'd like. maybe... we could do something you like. i bet you're full of surprises." he offered, to which you beamed at. "i do know how to crochet... would you like me to teach you?" "oh yes, please, do." he said as he moved closer to you, and you saw his sweet, lovable smile that shone with a dear hint of dorkiness.

a/n: MMMMMMM MIGHT MAKE A PART 2 OF THIS IF Y'ALL WANT MORE, LIKE I HAD SO MANY IDEAS I WANTED TO SHARE BUT FELT LIKE THIS'D BE SUPER CUTE AS A BEGINNING !! also thank you to @masaidabest @nanvxs @nokkihy and @luvstarrstruck for critiquing my work, love ya boos :DD

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @maxoloqy @pixqlsin @k4tsu3 @ii01vq @fictarian @binibinileonara

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown my beloved #hobie brown atsv #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spidersona #atsv imagines

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fariesoiree · 2 months

Text

caution mdni 9k words religious subtext, oral, fem reader, college setting, pet names

miffy note this is the sequel to peppermint patty! there will be a third and possibly a .5 part following at a later time c: pls do not spam like my blog! reblogging is always appreciated. pls also consider sending in requests or sponsoring some of my other works via fics for gaza

you could just about die right now; you’re ready to, hoping the dull, faux hardwood tiles would peel apart from the years old glue and open to reveal an endless dark abyss to swallow you up. why? because standing right across from you is hobart brown.

the moment reminds you of a movie. you stand in the library, warm air blasting through the central heating and bringing about a thin layer of sweat across your skin. you should have known better but you only intended to stay for a moment before escaping back to the coolness of outside. the winter months have begun to roll in and your semester has progressed from lounging around with your friends to spending multiple nights up in the late hours, typing away incessantly at your keyboard.

you’ve already gotten one book tucked into your chest and browse the shelves for another. french tipped acrylics grasp around the spine of yet another book and you pull it out to flip through the aged, yellow-stained pages. now that the temperatures have dipped into the thirties, you depend on the layers to maintain your warmth — an oversized cable knit sweater layered over a white shirt, gray leggings on top of tights, pink leg warmers over white socks, and platform uggs. you’ve even got a scarf tied loosely around your neck. walking around campus, you feel just a little chill but it’s bearable. the moment you stepped into the threshold of the library, however, you were quick to remove your trench coat and hang it over your arm.

you’re deep into it too, still flipping the pages and mulling over adding the book to the ever-growing list of resources for your project, when a shadow begins to edge its way into your peripheral. it’s not necessarily a big deal, but you find yourself lifting your eyes anyway. it’s more out of habit than anything else. still, you both freeze in your tracks and stare at each other akin to two little fawns, surprised to see another just like them.

hobie freaking brown.

you haven’t seen him since . . . when? september? october? well now it’s nearing the end of your first semester and you have yet to cross paths which, by the way, is entirely intentional. you bolt every time you see him and hobie knows it. he’s witnessed the display of anxiety with his own two eyes.

“ . . ., hey ☆.” hobie speaks first, maintaining a cautious distance. he clearly intends to walk down your aisle with the way his feet are positioned but he has yet to move, looping his hand around the strap of his bag. he feels just as awkward as you do, although confused because he’s been left in the dark. sure, hobie figured that the dynamic would change but if he knew you’d flat out ignore his existence, he would have denied you the experience entirely.

you suck in a breath and glance down the opposite direction. you’re already formulating a possible escape route but every possible plan your little brain comes up with is more embarrassing than the last. he’s already acknowledged you. you have to speak to him; that’s just proper manners. “h - um . . . wow, hi hobie. we haven’t talked in a minute. how are you?”

the corners of his mouth twitch and pull at the silver lip rings. he sniffs and shifts his weight. this is bullshit and he’d tell you but you’d probably disintegrate on the spot. there’s no point in beating around the bush if you’ve both ran into each other. this must be a sign, divine intervention. “fine,” is what he settles on, short and curt to prevent himself from pushing the sweet, small town girl too far and into a panic.

“that’s good. the semester’s about to end. how are your classes?” gosh, now you’re making small talk. it’s out of your control now. you’ve fallen into your default and there’s not a single thing you can do about it but smile with some form of anguish across your face. you’ve long forgotten about the book in your hands. there’s no chance you can slide it back onto the team wood shelves. it has to come back to your apartment style dorm with you.

hobie’s lip twitch again. this is painful. he assumes it’s the same on both sides but he knows enough about you to know that you’re not going to take the first step, even if you haven’t seen each other in weeks — those three seconds when you’re dashing around the corner in a blur don’t count. “fine. look, i should probably go unless you have something to say to me . . .?”

his question is met with a small shake of your head. you clutch your books tighter to your chest and will your attention not to wander too far, not to drink in his appearance and dwell on the feelings of grief for your friendship. your very first friend, the one who accepted you with open arms. maybe with too open arms. “yeah. i should go to. it was nice seeing you.”

hobie merely hums and turns in his heel. he leaves through the opposite direction, abandoning whatever task he came to fulfill. it remains unchecked in his mental todo list and he disappears from your vision, leaving you standing in the aisle alone. a chill makes its way down your spine. your entire body shudders with something vigorous and yet, you’re not cold.

spotting vivienne in the common space of your dorm is kind of a rare occurrence. it’s not like she’s never in home or refuses to speak to you. she just spends a lot of time behind the privacy of the heavy wooden door of her room with her boyfriend. other times, she’s on the other side of campus, strewn across his bed and empty mindedly staring at his tv screen in an attempt to seem interested in whatever show he’s trying to get her into.

however, this week the two are arguing and your red-headed friend makes it obvious with her questions. vivienne is laid across one end of the couch, twirling a strand between her fingertips, turned pale compared to the previous summer tan in the hotter months. “who’s that guy i saw you with the other day? he’s kinda cute and i think i’m getting annoyed with matthew.”

you don’t bother to look in her direction. it’s a risky thing to do when the named banned from your inner monologue makes a not-so-subtle frown appear on your face. if anything, you take it an as opportunity to lift the book in your hand closer to your face. you’re beginning to regret not reading in your room and shaming the impulsiveness that made you crave a change of environment. “i don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“yes you do!” vivienne is more interested in your bold face lie now that you’ve said it, scooting closer to your body curled up into the arm of the touch. “i know you do because i’ve seen you with him before, a long time ago. if he’s yours, just say that.”

“he’s not mine, viv. i don’t really know him like that, not anymore. we used to be friends and now we aren’t.” you say with a sigh. you attempt to deter her curiosity by lifting the book higher and making a big show out of flipping the page. you should have known, though, that it would be futile. all you’ve done is open up a can of worms as to why you aren’t friends anymore.

“oh my god, girl. you have to tell me what happened.” from the surface of your gorgeous and fresh white pages, four fingers go to bend along the edge and force it downwards until your face is visible. by now, vivienne is all up close and staring at you expectantly. her hair, dyed a very deep shade of red — one that reminds you of red velvet cake — is swaying so close every time she shifts her weight, you swear you can get whiffs of the coconut scented shampoo. fortunately, and possibly unfortunately, for vivienne’s genes, her hair lays bone straight so there’s no stray ends flying up your nose, no matter how thick the density is.

you sigh again, wracking your brain for a possible out. within the past few months of living with her, you’ve gotten to know and occasionally love all her quirks. at times, her stubbornness can be seen through a positive light but now . . . now she’s just bringing up old memories you couldn’t possibly tell her. as if you’d let such lewd descriptions fall from your lips. just the though of the sinful actions make your face hot with embarrassment and instilled guilt, especially when you factored in all the nights you spent with your hand down your cotton panties, rehashing those same thoughts. you think vivienne would laugh if she knew all this. after all, she is free spirited. “we just fell off one day. things got awkward because we have different backgrounds so we don’t really talk anymore. that’s all.”

vivienne’s eyes narrow, brown and larger than usual — probably because of the contacts she sometimes puts in. you can tell she doesn’t believe you when her head nods slowly and she drawls a slow “mhm . . .” it’s questionable why she doesn’t push you further until you’re forced to messily tell her the truth. “well, then it can’t be helped.” she frees you from her curiosity, scooting away to resume lazing about without a care in the world. “you never know though. maybe you’ll reconnect before the semester ends. winter is like the prime time for romance. it’s so cold and everyone always want to cuddle.”

at this, your nose scrunched and you almost snort your disagreement. as if, you think to yourself, as if there’d ever be a single moment in the near or distant future where hobie is romancing you, no matter the season. besides, winter break approaching only meant your return home and return to the church, volunteering to aid in the annual christmas play. “what about you and matt? you’ll probably be back together before you go home.”

“fuck matt. he’s a piece of shit and when he realizes he’s wrong, i’m not taking him back.” her response is followed by a huff of breath out of her nose. whether she’s waiting for you to ask her more, to send her an open invitation to continue your rant, or not, you don’t know.

all you know is her language is distasteful and you make no move to do so, filling the silence with a page flip of your book. what a silly thing to think, especially when you know she’s lying and will always take him back. if this is what relationships are, you sure don’t want one.

there is a problem, a big one. the moment you stir with consciousness, there’s something awfully uncomfortable in the air around you. even under your thick winter comforter, you can feel the sudden . . . cold, the chill that should be unnatural indoors. a shiver runs down your spine before you’re throwing the blanket off your body. “oh my gosh,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around your exposed shoulders.

you feet find solace in the furry slippers resting on the floor and you rise to support your weight on your own. your nose starts running rather quickly and you sniff, all while shuffling across your room to the singular window occupying the wall decorated in little print outs, polaroids, and other various wall decorations. your fingers wrap around the thin cord to draw the blinds upwards.

tick. tick. tick. there’s snow hitting your windowpane.

“oh my gosh!”

it’s almost simultaneous, the knocks against your door. you can only assume it’s your roommate but you get your answer anyway because she walks in, phone in hand and eyes widened in surprise.

“☆, you won’t believe the email they just sent out. the power went out and it’s going to be out until at least tomorrow. we’re gonna have no heat until they fix that shit. it’s the fucking storm. they’re saying we should try and go home early and they’re going to try and make accommodations.”

you don’t have it in you to internally reprimand her vernacular because all your brain capacity has gone into processing her sudden and rapid-fire news. it’s no surprise that there was a winter storm budding a few states over. news has been buzzing with predictions on how much snow will fall, how white the streets will turn when covered in such a thick, cold blanket. “what? when are they going to make accommodations? it’s freezing cold and i’m not staying here all . . .,” your attention falls onto your phone resting on your desk.

you originally assumed it was early morning and the sun is soon to rise over the horizon in all its bright glory but the lack of birds chirping and hidden in the branches draws another reason for concern. you reach over and tap your screen until it illuminates the room and you’re astonished, all over again. it seems today, or rather tonight, is handing you all sorts of misfortunes. “it’s only two in the morning? i’m not sleeping here all night. it’s freezing.”

when your eyes find vivienne again, she’s leaning against your doorway and shaking her head. her thoughts have already whirred through the same shock you’ve experienced. believe it or mot, that temporary bump in the road with her man had already passed and she spent the last few minutes texting him back and forth. it was sheer luck that she was awake enough to catch the email as it was sent and rushed to inform you, likewise worried about the safety of remaining here for a few hours. “i’m mot either. i’m planning on going across camp, probably gonna sleep in matthew’s room tonight.”

this is awfully unfair. not the fact your roommate has already acquired an alternative shelter for the night, but because not only have you ran into someone you hadn’t intended to ever, you have no one to run to in times like these. your extrovert friend, the one who invites you places and out of your comfort zone has herself to think about. you feel too guilty asking for her assistance in pestering her other friends and your acquaintances. “i don’t know what i’m going to do. i don’t really feel comfortable asking anyone i know to spend the night. i mean, the only person i really hung out with like that . . .”

“call him.” vivienne says rather quickly. she almost cuts you off with her urgency, even going as far as walking across your room and pushing your phone into your hand. “just call him, girl. you need somewhere safe to stay tonight and i’m not letting you stay here. worst case scenario, he says no and i take you with me.”

her gesture, while nice and admittedly pushing you in the right direction, makes you shift uncomfortably. call hobie and ask to spend the night after everything that’s happened? or rather, everything that hasn’t happened. “i — i don’t know. i don’t think he’s pick up, much less let me stay over. maybe i’ll just use an extra blanket. it could be manageable.”

“absolutely not. why wouldn’t he answer?” vivienne is forcing your phone closer to you, as if having it in proximity with your chest will somehow magically unlock it and dial that number you’ve been avoiding for an unnamed time. you’ve even considered deleting it, believing you’d never use it ever again.

“because we haven’t spoken in forever. he’s not going to answer. knowing him, he’s going to watch it ring and then text me. or not. i don’t know, he’s unpredictable.” your arm, with the hand boy currently forced to wrap around the thick phone case decorated in vivid swirls of color, wraps around your stomach to bring about a sense of security. a part of you is focused on the chill that settings in your bones and you regret slipping into a pair of shorts to sleep in.

vivienne barely misses a beat. if anything, she only takes half a second to mull over your words and suck in a breath. you can almost hear the thoughts jumbling in her head. “okay . . . okay. then, we’ll stop by and try to convince him in person. if that doesn’t work, then we’ll just have to do plan b.”

it sounds reasonable. it would have been an effective plan had it been under different circumstances. for one, every building requires a keycard to get one, one that’s programmed for that specific building. neither of your key fobs would cause the electronic lock to slide away and allow you access inside. secondly, who’s to say hobie will even be awake? that he’ll come to the door and open it? that he’ll push aside whatever internal turmoil and allow you to stay the night, especially after the heat of your last real interaction.

you purse your lips, preparing to share all your points with her but vivienne doesn’t want to hear it, and rightfully so. both of your health is at risk here and it’s better to try than throw all consideration out the window. there’s already a ton of reasonable explanations that oppose her position but you don’t really have a chance to communicate that. vivi has already made her way to her closet and pulled out a bag, large enough to hold your necessities had you sleep elsewhere. you’re too non confrontational to say otherwise and sigh.

this night is full of surprises, it seems. it’s like the universe curated this entire situation and left no space for any mishaps against her original design. not only was there someone who just happened to be walking out of the building you were headed into — where he’s going in this weather, you have no idea — but hobie was indeed awake and did in fact open the door.

it’s probable he’s already eyed you through the peephole because the wooden door is pulled at its hinges and he wordlessly leans against the doorway. hobie is dressed for bed, despite posing lively, arms crossed on his chest and an eyebrow raised in peaked interest. he’s waiting on you to say something, you know this, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

he looks so comfortable, standing there in plush jack skellington pajamas pants and a loose fitted shirt. there’s a logo blown up across the front. you can only assume it’s a band you don’t recognize. he’s not dressed up, but by a long shot. there’s even a few piercings missing and the usual jeweled accessories you see him with have been removed and put back in their rightful spot. still, you’re speechless and clutching the straps of your tote bag, securely looped around your shoulder.

it’s not the way he looks but him as a concept, an essence. it’s what he stands and the fear that you’ve been fighting to continually ignore. it’s the religious guilt for such a heavy sin you’ve never imagined you’d commit. he is tempting, a hologram of lucifer himself, a craving a lust that you cannot afford to get involved with. it will ruin your purity. or rather, your sanity.

you shouldn’t be here.

“what do we have here?” hobie’s voice acts like a harsh wind in the fog of your brain, pushing it all to the back of your mind and forcing you to refocus to the situation, at hand. “couple of strays, huh?” he’s smiling at the both of you but you know he’s talking to you. he’s looking at you, staring right into your soul to draw out the reason for your sudden appearance. “hi vivienne. ‘s nice to see you again.”

“we’ve met before?” she speaks with such ease to him, you’re jealous. she’s unaffected, obviously. it’s a wonder if she can even feel the growing tension the longer you stand here and stare at him.

“mm, once or twice,” his lips upturn in a soft smile, accompanied by the crown of his head dipping towards his shoulder, left and right. “i don't expect you to remember me. it was only in passing.”

it gets quiet all over again and you know it’s because everyone is waiting. you’re the one who needs to ask because you’re the one who needs to stay. it’s so easy to ask and yet, so hard at the same time. so difficult to look hobie in the eyes and say can i sleep here tonight?

and yet, you do rather hesitantly. “um, i know that we are friends right now but i . . . our building has no heat and it’s really cold and it’s going to start snowing. i didn’t want to ask you but vivi said — anyway that’s not important. i just can’t stay there because it’s freezing and i’m not going home for a few more days. plus, they sent out an email saying that we shouldn’t sleep there so . . . i mean, you can totally say no. i’ll just follow vivi to her —”

“jesus fucking christ,” hobie cuts off your rant with. click of his tongue. it’s unclear whether his tone is annoyed because he speaks so slowly, shifting his weight until he’s standing and supporting himself fully. “you could have texted me all’at.”

you think, just for a moment, he’s going to step inside and slam the door in your face when he retreats behind the invisible boundary of his door. but no, he’s simply making room for you, motioning for you to walk through the door and entire his space.

“i got her. have a good night, vivienne.”

you think it’s more shocking being behind the door and in hobie’s threshold than it was trying to ask him to welcome you in. you only take a few steps until you’re standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. it’s exactly as you remembered, posters decorating the wall until only slivers of plaster are visible between the margins. there’s a tapestry hung up over the top of his bed. that’s new, along with the large mirror leaning against his closet door.

it’s cluttered, full of antique records and hobie’s personal artwork. he hangs his belts up on hooked command strips, studded and catching the purple lights from the led. it smells like bergamot, mist scented with essential oils spewing out the humidifiers on hobie’s desk. his large monitored pc is on and playing chainsaw man at such a soft volume, you almost miss it.

“you can have the bed. i’ll make something work.” he takes a seat at his desk without sparing you a glance. much like the other night, your view of him is obscured. all you can really see is his fingers working together on what you perceive to be him crocheting, something that could have been surprising if you didn’t know he’s a jack of all trades.

you look over at his bed, blankets messily wrinkled and tossed aside. unlike your own, it lacks an excess of decoration pillows and stuffed animals. that’s not the part that seems daunting, though. it’s his bed in his room. “thank you, hobie. i really appreciate it.”

you’ve already hung your bed over the blocky stalk forming the makeshift headboard when he hums a response. hobie’s bed is lifted much higher than yours, obviously because he towers over you. it makes sense that his bed needs to offset the the affects of his height but for you, it’s an inconvenience. you don’t remember it being this tall before your fallout. you tilt your head and assess your possible solutions. a chair could be helpful but he’s sitting on it. there doesn’t seem to be a ladder in the room, probably because he doesn’t need it. “do you mind helping me . . . one more time? i won’t speak to you anymore, after that.”

hobie rolls back his shoulders, pulling at the muscles in his neck until they pop under the stretch. there’s a sigh that falls from his lips before he turns around and stands. “yeah, sure. can’t get on the bed?” he isn’t expecting an answer though because the moment you’re in his eyesight, staring at the navy blue duvet and clutching the light fabric between your fingers, it’s pretty clear what the problem is.

the distance is closed between both your bodies in a short span of a few seconds. it’s after that time where his hands circle around your waist with a firm grip. any other girl wouldn’t feel such a warm heat creeping up the back of their neck. you’re the only one on the planet probably, with all your inexperience, that oddly feels shy when he lifts you into the air and onto the bed with so much as a grunt.

you settle and shift until you’ve almost scurried into the back corner to evade any possible tension that could arise from the proximity. when you’re glancing back over your shoulder with your lips pulled into a strained line, hobie has his head cocked to the side and a gaze that lingers on yours.

he could question you now, he’s sure. he could nip this avoidance thing in the bud and get it over with. this could all be over today but . . . there’s just something in the way. it’s not like he isn’t confrontational or would rather protect your feelings but he can only imagine how this must feel for you. knowing that your friendship cannot go back to the way it was before after blurring the lines. a large part of him regrets ignoring his mental clarity and decided to go through with it anyway. he knew it would end up like this, sort of. you would lose all grasp you have on reality as you know it and send yourself spiraling into uncertainty. “ . . . y’know i’m not gonna bite you or something, right? you just need somewhere to sleep so you’re here. that’s it.”

as usual, hobie is the far more rational one in this situation. his demeanor reminds you of something lackluster, brushing off the situation at hand as if it’s nothing, as if what happened didn’t and he hadn’t had his fingers deep in your cunt a few months prior. “no i know. it’s just . . . with our history . . .”

his shoulders rise and drop in a shrug. the muscles on his shoulders, broad and somewhat stocky, tense and pull around his neck. the skin wrinkles before it settles back in its originally position. “clearly you don’t want to talk about it so we aren’t going to talk about it.”

similarly to your last visit, hobie takes a seat in his desk chair. he replaced the sturdy wooden one with his own and turns the seat until it’s facing your direction. hobie’s legs spread wide and comfortably; he slouches, rounding his back and slouching further down in the chair. he’s only eyeing you for just a moment before proceeding to turn his attention back to his show.

you mull his words over in his head, tossing them around your brain and deciding how they taste in your mouth as it all gets processed. the simple way to end things would be to nod and lay down but there’s an upset in your heart, a disturbance that makes you stomach turn with nausea. “well, what is there to talk about? we . . . did what we did. that’s all there is to it, right?”

his interest is suddenly peaked away, curiosity reaching an all time high while he swivels his chair around in your direction again. it’s astonishing that you, so shy and so quiet, had stepped up to plate and given him the opening he needed. hobie, in all honesty, has been waiting for this. he’s been stewing on his emotions and thinking over what he really wanted out of this for weeks. he missed you, the girl he rescued from having such a horrid experience at a party. “yeah, that would be it if you didn’t scatter like a fuckin’ bug under an overturned rock every time you see me.”

“hobie,” you can’t help but chastise him, falling back into your old habits. you’re even curled up in his bed and have nestled beneath the sheets, now warming from your trapped body heat.

“i’d apologize but i’m not really sorry. you avoided me for weeks. you’re deadass lucky that i let you stay here tonight because technically, we aren’t cool anymore.” he’s gotten his arms crossed over his chest now, a brow raised to challenge you to press his concept of your less-than-friendship. “i’m always gonna look out for you, bug, but i’m feeling kind of betrayed right now.”

you tuck your bottom lip in between the space of your teeth and knaw on the brown skin, pulling at the dead and dry spots that lift with any contact of your tongue. an apology flows out of you quickly but you mean it, despite the predispositioned guilt you get at the drop of a hat. “i’m sorry, hobie. it wasn’t my intention. i just didn’t know what to do. i still don’t know what to do. i’ve never done — that — before and you were such a good friend. it scared me.” you can’t help but lock in your attention on a little red string, dangling off the side of hobie’s pillowcase.

you don’t see the way he tilts his head and prolongs his gaze. it’s hard to tell what you’re thinking, at times. you’re not everyone else, and certainly not in a quirky way. to hobie, you’re far more delicate, far more likely to apologize for any and everything. you’re not well adapted, he thinks. the world could swallow you up hole at any given point and he can’t help but feel pity. or is it empathy? “i know. it is partially my fault. i should have stuck to what i said. it’s normal for a dynamic to change when you fuck someone. i can’t expect you to know that so yeah, i forgive you. we’re fine.”

still, there’s some deep settled guilt inside you, locked away and unable to be opened. weeks worth of unresolved questions and answers left up tn your interpretation. it makes you frown so hard, the lines could be etched into your otherwise smooth skin. “no, it’s not you. i’m just, i dunno? different, i guess. i’m not normal but i wish i was because then this wouldn’t be such a big thing. no one else cares like i do.”

“but that’s okay. you shouldn’t feel guilty because you feel differently than anyone else. it’s fine, ☆. it’s okay. it was a mutual decision. it just won’t be a decision we make again.” his shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. it could seem dismissive is if was anyone but hobie, the one person who would do all he could to ease your worries. “i know you. i know who you are and how you think and what you’re like. it’s okay, really. we’re cool, yeah? just go to sleep and relax. ‘m not mad, really.”

you sniff and curl up into the corner of the bed. you tug the soft sheets up to your chin and tuck it under. the fabric brushes across your nerves in a way that’s soothing, comforting like a warm hug. you look at hobie, really look at him. you look at him like he’s altering your world view, pulling away layers and layers of complex ideas, thoughts, and opinions. his brain isn’t like yours. it’s filled with never ending patience and coolness, sewn together with the raw emotions of life’s worst moments. he’s forgiven you, without a second thought, for running away and ignoring him for weeks. are you friends again?

“okay,” you mumble and wiggle around until the mattress contorts to the shape of your form. you lick your lips and continue to stare at him like he’s altered your entire philosophy. it’s strange that the guilt is still present, although oddly enough its strange how it’s not as potent. it doesn’t feel as debilitating; you don’t feel like you’re suffocating under the harsh scrutiny of your lord and savior. instead, and only for a second, you consider the possibility that you’re staring at the most gracious in the flesh. the thought makes you scoff and shake your head at yourself, briefly alarmed that you’d even consider such a thing. “goodnight then, hobes.”

you don’t know what time it is when your eyes flutter open and peer into the darkness. you don’t remember falling asleep. in fact, the last thing you do remember is rolling over and staring at the wall, pacing your breathing until it followed a slow regime to lull you into unconscious. you don’t remember feeling tired and drifting off into sleep. the one thing you do remember, however, is hobie waking you up to ask if he could sleep next to you.

as usual, he was entirely respectful about it and left a pillow in between your bodies, working as the barrier to protect everyone’s personal space. you don’t fault him too much, anyway. the floors are too hard to willingly spend the rest of the night on comfortably, especially in your own room.

you head lulls to the side until you’re face to face with what you think is hobie. your eyes are slow to adjust to the lack of lighting but his breath is audible, soft and fanning over the pillow barrier between you. with the more time the passes, the clearer his distance facial

features become, although still muddied by darkness. your brain is able to connect the dots and visualize his peaceful expression in the gaps the darkness provides.

he looks so . . . sweet. so pretty and even if no one can hear your thoughts, you’re still embarrassed to think it. he’s the prince of darkness, inviting you to brush gentle fingertips across his cheek. it’s not something you get a chance to think about, almost in a trance with hazy eyes. it makes him stir, eyeballs swirling beneath closed lids. your touch breaks him from his sleep, placidly. one moment, his chest rise and falls with each inhale and exhale. the next, he’s peering back at you with half closed lids and registering the surroundings he’s found himself in. “hm?”

it’s as if his voice, a soft hum, brings you out of your trance as if he’s snapped his fingers in front of your face. you yank your hand back with intent regret and humiliation. he caught you. “oh, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to wake you.”

“mm,” his voice comes out gravely and still obviously under the influence of sleep. the back of his hand brushes against his eyes, knuckles digging into the corner. “did you poke me or somethin’?”

you don’t respond to his question. instead, you curl your lips into themselves as if leaving it hanging in the air would stall enough for him to forget. lucky enough, his ebbing exhaustion did half of the work for you. hobie doesn’t ask again, nor does he press for me. he’s too busy trying to understand the situation as a yawn escapes his lips.

his attention eventually settles on you once more. he doesn’t think you realize how close you are, leaning over the boundary to get a clear view of his face and a clear feel, too. there’s something in hobie that wants him to tease and poke and prod at you. he refrains though, only because it’s far too late in the night to become that active. it’s too quiet to start pestering you; the moment is too personal.

you both spend a minute with silent eye contact, prolonged and oddly intimate. it’s as if you have a conversation without even speaking a word, looking into the soul of the other. it renders you speechless. not a single word comes to mind when you’re laying close enough to see what seems to be an outline of an eyelash clinging onto his cheek.

“this isn’t — we can’t do this.” hobie sighs under his breath with a shake of his head. he rolls onto his back. his palm comes to weigh heavy on his head, tugging downward.

even you know what the problem is, unable to feign innocents and ask what he means. there’s tension; it’s palpable. of course it is when you’re so close to each other in such a small space. this setup would have been better had hobie slept on the floor but his aching bones would plead victim in the following morning.

you don’t know what to do, though. a piece of you wants you to throw whatever inhibitions you hold out the window. it’s become a pattern now. once the moon rises and you become in close proximity with your personal ultimate sin, everything you know becomes useless. your beliefs are casted into the back of your mind and you become ready to do whatever he asks. it’s not like the last time had no effect on you whatsoever. if anything, it opened your eyes to a world previously unknown.

you didn’t know fingers could feel that good before, much less it still worked if you did it yourself. nonetheless, it didn’t compare to hobie’s masterful experience. it’s been something you’ve often reminisced on often, so much so that you’ve considered praying for it again. you know better but you can’t help yourself, losing what will you had.

“why not? we talked about it so it’s okay, now.” you know you’re lying through your teeth when you say it, yet you’re persistent. you’re already laser focused on the possibility of just a little excitement in your otherwise dull, rule following life. another night of hobie’s fingers down your pants and holding you on the tip of your toes.

he shakes his head again, just as insistent not to do this as you are to do this. “y’know that’s not how this works. we can’t. you can’t. we know how this will end. you’ll get shy and ignore me again. i don’t think we should head down that path.”

your expression is concealed by the veil of darkness but the bed still dips when you sit up and redistribute your weight. you sit mermaid style, knees bent and supporting your new position with a hand pressed against the rather soft surface. this is a new side of you that not even you could have prepared yourself for. it’s a desperate side, a needy side that clicked into place so suddenly once put in such an ideal situation. “i won’t. we’ve already done it once and now i know what it’s like so it’s fine. technically, i’m way more experienced.”

it’s not that hobie doesn’t want to. he’d be happy to, excited to even. however, just like the last time, it’s him who has to be the one with restraint. it’s him with the power and charm to bend you as he pleases but hobie’s had enough experience to know that in the end, it’s possible that neither of you will be speaking shortly after this. does he really want to ruin a potential friendship right after reconnecting? “this is ridiculous. you said the same thing before. you said it would be fine and it wasn’t fine. i don’t want to do all that again.”

“i won’t. i promise i won’t. we don’t even have to do . . . the real thing. think of it as a teaching opportunity. would you rather i do it with someone i know has my best interests at heart or literally anyone else.” the words are leaving your lips before you can even think about it. they even taste absurd on your tongue, dripping in a viscous nectar, sweet and honey-like; it’s a precious rarity bestowed upon earth from the heavens.

“you’re going to drive me crazy.” hobie drawls lowly. there’s a moment where the possibility hangs high in the air — will he or will he not? his hand finds your arm and brushes the tips of his fingers along your skin. he can feel the goosebumps that prickle in his wake and it’s just not, if not more enticing. the right decision is to deny you; it’s obvious. yet, he just can’t. he can’t do it.

you, in all your needy innocence and purity, seated at the tips of his fingers and hanging on to every last word. you put too much trust in him. he knows you have this image of him you’ve conjured up. sure, you can trust him to protect you with his life and keep you somewhat sheltered to the bad things in life but in the end, hobie is hobie. he’s a man with a deep dark fantasy of ruining the perfect girl, turning her away from her views and forcing her to become drunk in him. when you’re sitting here tempting him with that sweet voice of yours, it all seems easier for his moral compass to become more and more misaligned.

“fuck it, whatever. come here.” regardless of his debilitating ethics, his guiding hand that comes to cup your cheek and draw you nearer is just as gentle as you remember. it’s a touch that you’ve worked hard to bring back to the surface during those particularly lonely nights; you don’t even realize just how quickly you’re leaning into it and becoming passive in his presence.

half your body is over his, a hand pressed into his chest. it’s a little awkward, the way you’re dangling off his side but all your focus is on the rhythmic dance your lips do together. it doesn’t last long anyway because hobie does all the adjusting for you, rolling onto his side and forcing you on yours. his thumb caressing your cheek, drawing small circles and gliding down the expanse of your face until he reaches his goal destination, holding your chin in his grasp.

he’s still setting the pace when his other hand hooks beneath the bend of your knee and pulls it over his waist. the fuzz of his pants pills the fabric of your leggings but it acts like a magnetic force that inclines you to get even closer. “what am i to do with you?” his words feel hot against your skin, melting his question into your nerves and leaving a permanent sensitivity to his touch.

your novicity is glaringly obvious when you’re already withering at the feeling of his lips against your neck, grazing down and across, covering as much of the open space as he could. his kisses are oddly sweet; they’re wet, leaving behind a thin gleaming layer of spit, but lacking any graze of his teeth. he’s still lapping at your skin when his hands have discarded their precious place and found a new solace, burning hot against your bare skin under your shirt. “you want me to this, you want me to do that. can’t even handle the consequences of your actions.”

your lips begins to tremble with such fervor, you’re forced to tuck it between your teeth. you don’t remember being this humiliated last time, or maybe you were. it’s hard to tell because your thoughts are quick to become hazy when his fingers find the fabric of your bra.

hobie, for one, wasn’t expecting it. the flash of confusion across his face goes unnoticed when he’s settled in the crook of your neck and he doesn’t spend too much time dwelling on it, either, in fear it’ll break the moment. knowing you, you were probably too “good” to take it off, as if keeping it on was a sign of respect. or perhaps, it just seemed like the right thing to do in the presence of a man.

“that’s not true,” you say with only the slightest trevor in your voice. you can feel the clasp to your bra snapping apart. it hangs loose at your arms now and allows enough space for hobie to resume his conquest, slipping his hands underneath.

he chuckles when you gasp, so airy, right next to his ear. he pulls himself out the corner of your neck to look at you, to memorize each tweak of your lips and your eyes open wide and needy. he’s merely grabbed at your breasts, catching your hardened nipples between the webs of his fingers. “no? but you’re lyin’, bug. and you know what, lying is bad.” his chuckle turns into a grin, one that seems especially wicked when he’s rolling them between his fingers.

your open mouthed sigh gets lost behind your shirt tugged over your head with hobie’s assistance. “i’m not lying,” you insist but the guilt of your fib eats you away, nonetheless. you’re still pouting when you’ve pulled your arms out of your bra straps and leaving it to be discarded somewhere in the bed.

“mhm,” he hums, now eyeing your tits on display for him and begging to be sucked. it’s the only natural that he does as his urges want him to, cupping the bottom and flattening his tongue over your areola. by now, he’s rolled you onto your back and flicking his thumb over the other that’s been left otherwise untouched.

you cradle his hand between your hands, dragging your fingers along the coarse locs and into his scalp. you’re barely aware of what you’re doing, caught up in your nerves tingling beneath your skin. the sense is heightened when his teeth clamp down on the hardened bud and pulls. the pain is immediate and your back arches in response. however, the pleasure that follows is unexpected and sits just below the surface, piquing your curiosity and wanting him to do it again.

“poor thing. i really don’t know what to do with you,” hobie kisses your cleavage. he eyes you from his position below your head while his hands continue to explore your body, finding the soft flesh of your hips and massaging them. “everything’s too much for you. you’re not ready for the real thing. you can’t handle a cock yet, even if you’re begging for it.”

his demeanor is slow to change. you could have sworn hobie spent the last few minutes doting on you. there wasn’t a moment you considered his words had a harsher inclination. perhaps it had but you were too past relishing in the feeling of his attention. it was like watching someone transform into someone else, metamorphosis into a darker version of himself

you can’t help but acknowledge the shame that begins to flood over you at his words. they make you feel small, as if you’re not in control of your own body. you were bound to respond like this; it’s just your destiny. you will always gravitate towards hobie like a moth to a flame.

“stop it. don’t say things like that.” it’s not much to say but it’s all you can manage, cheeks rapidly heating up with an intense heat. your hands ever-so-sweet fall from the entanglement in his scalp and take their designated space on his shoulders.

“don’t say things like that?” hobie speaks with a lift in his voice, replicating the pitch of voice you decided to use with hands on your hips to roll you onto your back. you miss the way his eyebrow raises in the dark and the tug of his lips turn upwards. “what do you mean don’t say things like that? am i not supposed to say the word ‘cock’ when i suck on your sweet pussy?”

you crane your neck higher and higher the lower hobie slides his way down your body. you unintentionally tighten, drawing your muscles together. your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet each other. there’s almost a split second where the words are just ready to spill out of your lips. it would be yet another chastise, another moment where you mention your disdain for such vocabulary. you never get to it because hobie beats you to it. he interrupts you with a sly grin and a tongue sliding across the fabric of your pants. the material deepens into a darker shade of the light blue when his saliva sinks within and catches your clit.

it’s over your clothes and yet it feels so good, unlike anything before. not like before, when hobie had you strewn across your desk. although, this new adaptation is a bit more dull. his hands maintain his strong hold, although there isn’t much current need. there’s no attempt to pull away from you. you’re not at all wiggling about but instead, opening your legs wider to entice him a little more.

you gain a small squeeze from your actions and a chuckle that follows shortly after. hobie’s wordless response is enough, at least for him. he attaches his lips even more, circling around your clothed clit and sucking it through your clothes. his tastebuds are full of boring cotton but his sense of smell is delighted, inhaling you in your purest form with the intention of imprinting this memory in his head.

you whine and mewl and keen, voicing your somewhat opposition to your current position. it felt good, really, having his nose brush against your jeweled pearl biden behind the hilt of a hood. the most drunken part of you, intoxicated off the high of lust, nearly convinces you to lift a shaking hand in hobie’s direction with the intention of pulling your damp panties away from your skin.

it doesn’t get really far. if anything, the moment the elastic waistband brushes against the pads of your fingertips, the fabric is just out of reach again. your hand becomes trapped within hobie’s grip and rests against the sides of your thigh. he fixed you with a glare, or rather the gleam in his light-catching eyes do.

“don’t be a terror,” he mumbles while turning his head towards the soft flesh of your inner thigh. his mouth meet the skin is a soft kiss, teeth just barely grazing behind pillowed lips. “tell me what you want, hm? can’t be ruining the poor angel’s purity.”

before he’s able to finish his sentence, you’re already pouting at the ramifications of your impromptu decision. how dare he suggest you’re better off filling your mouth such dirty words when he could so easily go in what direction you’re clearly steering him towards. “you’re being mean,” you can’t help but fuss and have already begun to tug towards freedom.

your attempt gets you nowhere but in a tighter grip and less than subtle smirk. he doesn’t attempt to hide what malicious intent he may hold. “what do you mean, duck? i’m spoiling you. just tell me what you want.” the way he says it is so condescending, as if it’s absolutely not a big deal and you’re working yourself up. his large brown eyes feign an innocent expression when he hooks a finger on your panties to pull then to the side. “just ask me for it. isn’t that what you want?”

you watch through the darkness as hobie cranes himself just a little further. your pussy is already yearning for him, glittering with cream and revealed to him as a tempting dessert with tart icing. he opens his mouth, letting his tongue dripping in saliva just dangle over your wet cunt. “just ask me. ask me to eat this pussy ‘til you cum. say it.”

a thin line of spit drips from his tongue and gets lost in the whipped mess that is your arousal. it disappears in the milky slick that clings to your folds and you can whimper as though you can feel it searing your nerves.

how did you end up here? you’re trapped in a dance with the devil, fighting between your innate desires and the knowledge ingrained in you. your mouth has already gone dry from hanging open with no words to leave them. your heart pounds within your chest, thrumming behind your ribcage and making the situation all too real.

“ask me, dove. ‘pretty please eat my pussy’. that’s all you gotta do f’me.” his words are are vulgar as his grin, a perfect imitation of an archangel. his eyes fall towards your pearled clit, pulling the hood upwards with his thumb. it’s a soft touch but just as effective in revealing such sensitive skin to him. he can’t help but burble at the sight and lets his tongue dangle over your clit again. another droplet falls in place and you keen, just was before.

“you want it so bad. i know you do. just look at the mess you made. say it. tell me you want it and i’ll give it to you. i’ll give you whatever you want. just have to ask me for it first.” he’s nearly begging for it, begging for you to lose your inhibitions and use him. or let him use you, whichever comes first. “tell me you want it. tell hobie you want it.”

it’s dizzying, almost. you can’t catch up, much less catch your breath. you’re not even sure why you’re winded. it’s not as though you’ve done anything and yet, every breath you take seems to dissipate before it reaches your lungs. this is cruel. it has to be a form of punishment. illegal even, to force such words into your mouth. still, there’s some sort of morbid thrill that comes from it, like this opportunity is a flame in the dark, flickering and taunting you with its warmth. “i – i want you to eat my . . . pussy.”

it’s much slower than you anticipate, the onslaught feeling of his lips circling around your clit and suckling on your watery essence. regardless, the feeling is all the same and results in your legs attempting to clamp shut around his head. it’s a knee jerk reaction that earns you a muffled grumble and two large hands placed firmly on the backs of your thigh. the hold is advantageous in pushing them away from his ears and towards yours.

it’s a simple impulse and yet, it sends fresh adrenaline pumping through your veins. your newly freed hand buries itself in the coarse mix of hair atop hobie’s head. he’s just as receptive to your touch as you are to his, murmuring vibrations against your skin in a deepened hum. it does a number on your sensitive cunt, sending you back to be pressed into the less than comforting mattress. you’ve gathered fist-fulls of hobie’s hair. the feeling grounds you, just enough to keep your sanity from floating away into the pillowy clouds of your imagination.

you can hear his lips wrapped up in your wet walls just as much as you can feel his tongue prodding your insides. he somehow manages to find every cavernous corner within an inch of reach, swallowing each drop of arousal you have to offer. you cry and whine a shaky mixture of “hobie” and “please” over and over again. the words drip from your mouth like a mantra, a lewd prayer that only he can fulfill.

it doesn’t compare to the first time he’s done this, not at all. gentle hands have turned into harsh clutches, fingers digging into your skin. there is less reassurance this time, no soft words exchanged between the two of you past your muted murmurs and his occasional drag of air when his lips leave you. the strangest part of it all is that you’re gushing, far more than you were when he took his sweet time with you.

perhaps this is what you needed all along. this is what you really wanted. a twisted side of you really wanted this. behind the good girl facade, what you really want is a silver-tongued devil to bring you to the precipice of your existence. it just happens to be a mere coincidence that the brink is a blinding orgasm that steals your breath and sends your lurching.

you could say your body began to fight against it, warning you with a tingling sensation that began in the pit of your tummy. it radiates throughout your limbs from there, causing your toes to curl and your hands to circle into tighter fists. you release your hold on hobie’s hair and trade it for the sheets instead. the fabric becomes wrapped and disheveled between your fingertips. you could have warned him, putting a little more effort into getting some lucid words out, but the moment you open your mouth, it’s all incoherent jumble.

hobie doesn’t seem to mind your wordless state. in fact, he gains a sort of ego boost from it by pulling away, ruining your orgasm into a vapid release, all while watching your needy hole wink at him in dissatisfaction. “greedy, greedy girl. what did i say? tell me what you want, hm?” it’s as if you’re not there, merely an extension of your pretty cunt all on display for him. he lays eye-level with it, fascinated by the infinite watery slurry seeping out.

hobie likes to think you were begging for it when he languidly slaps a hot palm on your pussy. he even has a smile across his face and remedies the slight pain by rubbing his hand across your folds. your previous cum provides a glow he’s never seen before. a sweet dewiness handpicked from handspun gold and liquefied into a nectar just for you. “i’ll give you anything, treacle. anything. just ask me for it, would you?”

in hobie’s head, in his depraved mind, this is for him as it is for you. maybe the real reason he was so hesitant to go down this road is because he knew what it would have meant. this very moment signifies the beginning of the end, the moment where every dark and carnivorous desire takes hold and he follows through with what he really wants . . . what hobie really wants.

to let darkness consume and devour you whole, snuffling out your halo until you’re standing in the abyss, illuminated by a single flame. him.

#•°. *࿐. *. ⋆ ▻ 𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙡𝙪 #hobie x black!reader #hobie brown #hobie smut #astv hobie #x black fem reader #x black reader #x reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n

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liyawritesss · 1 year

Text

ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ

Characters: Spider-Verse!Hobart “Hobie” Brown [Spider-Punk] x Black!Fem!College!Reader

Type: Drabble

Word Count: 1.4k

Synopsis: Hobie’s got a habit of letting himself into your dorm room. Thankfully, you’ve got your own suite, and tonight isn’t any different.

Warnings: cursing, very very horrible british accent & slang I apologize in advance/please teach me better, brief nudity (he’s taking a shower chill you horndogs), I perceive Hobie to be around 18-19.

A/N: Was listening to a 90’s playlist while writing this so yeah there’s a couple of 90’s songs references in here.

Song Suggestions: “comfortable” by H.E.R., “So Into You” by Tamia, “Brown Skin Lady” by Black Star, “I Wanna Be Down” by Brandy, “Be Happy” by Mary J. Blige

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @venusdraco @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22 @movie-enthusiast22 @famedrs-blog @honeybleed @briology @pnkweb

Hobie can see the pretty lavender color seeping from your window about a block out from your dorm building. It’s the color you use to signify that your window is open for him to come through, and he has to admit, in times like these, he’s glad that the both of you decided on the bright, pastel-like hue that shines from your LED strip lights.

To say the hero was tired as an understatement. His body was screaming for rest; has been for the past week. But one can’t rest in the face of oppression, and Hobie Brown never turned down any action that would cause unease and unrest for the elitist politicians of his society - and neither did Spider-Punk.

Said action was the reason why Hobie hadn’t gotten proper rest or taken care of himself like he knew you’d want him to in the past week. He normally didn’t care for the repercussions his actions would have on himself, always telling himself that it was a risk well worth since it brung him and his people closer and closer to the freedom they desired, no matter how small the steps were.

However, upon meeting you, and subsequently falling for you, and subsequently taking on the label as your partner, he’d come to understand that you just wouldn’t have any of that. Although begrudgingly at first, Hobie began to take your advice and constant nagging on taking care of himself better, but now it had gotten to the point where he simply couldn’t do those mundane tasks of self care without you. Even sleeping became hard without you, or at least, something that reminded him of your presence.

Hence why he was swinging from building to building to reach your dorm hall, because while Hobie wasn’t in the right mind to admit it to himself, he was in need of your love and care, and only you could ease him in the way he needed.

He hangs off the wall as he gazes into your single suite dorm, the muffled melody of Mary J. Blige’s “Be Happy” reverberating through his body. You’re doing a little dance in your desk chair, pretty hair wrapped up in a headscarf, the maroon hoodie you had on swamping your upper body. You had a writing utensil in hand, and with the books opened on your desk, it appeared like you were doing assignments for class. Hobie smiles to himself under his mask, wondering how he ended up with such a smart and intellectual person like yourself.

He has no problem raising up the window and slipping inside, his practiced movements quiet and agile as he pads across your hardwood floors. He pulls the mask from his head, freeing his face and wicks from the stretchy material, taking a deep breath. Your room smells like home, traces of lavender sage trailing in the air, and he can feel the headache that had been plaguing him for the longest finally begin to subside.

Hobie begins to search through your drawers, trying to find the stash of clothes you insisted on him keeping at your place since the first few times he’d crashed there. In the midst of doing so, he feels a pair of arms trail around his midsection, and not long after, your voice floats to his ears.

“I love how you never look in the bottom drawer,” you say with a teasing lilt in your voice, “y’know, where your clothes have always been.”

“Hello to you, too, pretty.”

Hobie allows himself to be shooed off to the shower, as you tell him you’ll worry about getting his clothes and some food together, He can’t resist the lopsided grin that spreads across his lips as he follows your orders. The hot water against his sore muscles and stinging scratches and other injuries feels like heaven, and when he emerges from the bathroom, he smells like it, too. The lavender body wash is his favorite out of your collection, and he chuckles when he sees you’ve got two tall bottles of it stored under your bathroom rink, almost anticipating that he’d use it anyway. He loves how well you know him.

Hobie dresses in the gray sweatpants you left out for him, opting to remain shirtless for the comfort of it. Definitely not to see your flustered face as you walk back in your room to him sitting on the edge of your bed, ready to be taken care of.

When you walk back in, the song on your speaker switches to the easy one-two step tempo of Brandy’s “I Wanna Be Down”, a container of food in one hand and a first aid kit in the other. “Tell me where the knicks are.” You say, setting the food down on your nightstand, and Hobie proceeds to show you the various scratches and bruises on his body that desire your gentle touch and attention.

They’re not so bad, which is surprising considering how wild and reckless Hobie usually is, so you figure some ointment and muscle cream for the soreness will help for the night. Calloused hands hold the container of food that you’ve so graciously warmed up for him, and as he eats, you encourage him to talk about his day.

“Bloody prick wouldn’t shut up,” he grunts after a few bites of food, and you assume the ‘prick’ he’s referring to is one of the members of the local government that, for lack of better words, did not have the support of the younger generation when it came to his reign in office, “wan’ed to knock his head off his shoulders so bad. King dick arsehole.”

You laugh at his choice of words, and it's the best sound he’s heard all week.

He’s done eating faster than what he anticipated and with the food in his system, his body begins to feel more heavy, the exhaustion beginning to seep deep into his bones and become visible on his face. Your heart swells at the sight, his lidded eyes and slight head-nodding to your music more than enough to tell you just how tired Hobie was.

You take the empty container and place it on your dresser, taking Hobie’s head into your hand and pressing gentle kisses against his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids, his lips. He all but relishes in the feeling, each peck of your lips leaving a burst of comfort in his wake, and it causes him to nearly melt in your hold. His large hands make their way up your biker shorts, riding up your thighs into the crevice of where your pelvis and thighs met, and under your hoodie to feel the warmth of your bare skin. You stand in between his legs here, though Hobie decides that this isn’t close enough, and reaches to the back of your thighs to pull you onto his lap.

It quickly becomes addicting, the feeling of your lips on his face and your skin under his hands. It’s not long until you’re laying on your back and Hobie is settled between your legs, his head tucked into the crevice of your neck, his upper body resting almost completely on top of your own. One large hand rests on the curve of your ass, the other is under your hoodie, resting on the side of your ribcage, thumb subtly swiping under the curve of your breast.

Your touch brings him just as much comfort as just the simple skin-to-skin contact he enacts on his own. One hand roams the surface of his back, tracing figures into the dark skin littered with even darker blemishes and scars. The other rests at the nape of his neck, holding him close as you continue your kissing assault on the punk-alt boy. Hobie sighs into your neck when he hears you begin to hum the tune of the new song playing. Even though you’re barely above a whisper, he hears you clearly and the wave of comfort that floods his form is indescribable.

It doesn’t take long before his breaths start to even out, and the weight of his body begins to sink into your own. Pressing one final kiss into the crown of his head as “Brown Skin Lady” begins to fade down into a low hum, thanks to you turning down the volume through your phone. With Hobie fast asleep, it leaves you no choice but to your own slumber. It’s not like you can go back to your homework, after all.

#black reader #black tumblr #black spiderman #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman beyond the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman btsv #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv x black!reader #spider punk #spiderpunk atsv #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown x black!reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk x black!reader

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partnerlesspansexual · 1 year

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Hobie Brown bf headcanons (❁´◡`❁)🧷🖤🎸 Use of Y/N: none Warnings: none Genre: Fluff 🌸 (BTW, happy October everyone 🎃)

• Taller or shorter S/O: I feel like Hobie is the type of guy that couldn't care less about the height of his S/O. You could be as tall as lady D or as short as Napoleon; but as long as you can carry him around like the princess he is, he doesn't mind 👑❤️ • Preferred gender: Doesn't have one 😊 In my opinion, Hobie is more attracted to personality than physical appearance. He likes hes, shes, theys, thems, everyone! If you have a good vibe and hate the government, he's all over you, babes • His love language: Hobie's love languages are definitely gift giving and physical affection. Like, you could just be sat on the sofa doing whatever, and he'll just come in and climb onto you like an infant; and you'll be like "ummm, excuse m-" and he'll just shush you with his fingers. And then you'll just stay there. Forever. And as for gift giving, he'll just come back from his daily spooderman activities with a bunch of random bullshit he found, dump it on the desk that you're currently working at and say "You're welcome 😌" as if he's just given you the key to the universe • Pet names (for him): pretty boy, handsome, hot stuff, baby boy, gremlin lord, etc. • Pet names (for you): sugar-tits, thicko, babes, ducks, love/lovey, sweetie, dumbass, etc. • Tickling: You need to understand something. If you initiate a tickle fight with Hobart Brown, it is no longer a tickle fight; it's a tickle WAR. And he has no mercy, he'll go for your tummy, your sides, your feet, your EVERYTHING. And when you've had enough he'll just scream "DO YOU YIELD?! DO YOU YIELD?!" • Sharing food: NO, absoloutely not. Look, he loves you, but if you so much as put a finger near his precious fish and chips, you will pay the price. He'll smack your hands away like a fly and scold you like an angry mother "get your grubby mits off my food, cheeky bugger". And then five minute later he'll crumble and give you a piece cuz he just loves u that much ❤️ • His favourite couple activity: He likes the simple things in life. Going down to the pub for a drink with his baby is all he needs to keep him happy. He has to keep his eye on you at every moment, because you have the tendency to wander off; like, he'll turn around for 1 second to order your drinks and he'll turn round and you're just GONE, and he's stood there like "This bitch 😒" but in a loving way ❤️. Or just chilling at home listening to his records with his head in your lap as you play with his hair. • Pets: This man would deadass just bring home any animal he finds on the street. Like, you'll come home after a long day at work, go to the bathroom to take a shit and you just open the door to see Hobie in the bath tub with a whole possum like "😶..... I can explain"

(Why does the world keep torturing me with beautiful men that don't exist? WHY? 🥲)

#hobie brown x reader #atsv #atsv hobie #x male reader #x female reader #x gn reader #across the spiderverse #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown headcanons

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scarthefangirl · 1 year

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Giving to the poor

Hobie brown x G/N!reader

Request: hobie with a ballerina reader who is also a HUGE bookworm-dont ask me where the idea came from because idk either lol- I kinda just wanted to see how that would maybe look?

Warnings: none? Mentions of theft

Story type: Headcannons

A/N: Not my best but please read my other fics!!

Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN

You and Hobie don't have a ton in common

You are graceful, very sweet, and a little more awkward

Hobie is a little more- bold and rough

But you two couldn't be a better pair

He loves your smooth and sophisticated fighting style, thanks to your ballet

He thinks its hot how you almost make fighting into a dance, and can whoop anyone in heartbeat

You encourage him constantly to take up ballet, insisting that it'll do him good

"Football players do it! It helps balance and control, and you'd look fine in a leotard." You always plead

"I don't need help, I'm doin' just fine love. But I certainly would look good," He always says

In secret he'd probably watch ballet tutorials to see if its for him, to make you happy

He is FLOORED when he finds out how often you have to replace ballet slippers

"Every 6 months? That has to be so expensive!"

Just wait till he hears that you also have pointe shoes that get replaced every few months...

He will start to time out when you buy shoes and buy them for you

He listens to you rant about your terrible dance teacher and fellow ballerinas for as long as you want, nodding in agreement about how horrible they are

He'll do yoga with you (although he's not very bendy) to keep you flexible and let you laugh at how bad he is

As for your reading addiction, Hobie finds it adorable

The way you gasp and yell at your books as you read, your facial expressions that convey the emotion of the chapters, your particularity for how books should be handled, everything

He isn't the biggest reader but if you hype up a book he'll definitely check it out

You guys bond over ones you both like

"I like hunger games. We need more katniss's in the world to stick it to the man!" He says after finishing the series

Dystopian books make him mad and go on lectures about how the real government is just as bad and deteriorating and loves the wah you'll go off with him and agree and listen

Sometimes he loses you around headquarters and looks EVERYWHERE for you

Loses trust in everyone

"Have you seen them? Come on, think would ya? Yes you have, I know you have!"

Only to find you in an empty room either reading or practicing your ballet

Either way, he leans on the door frame and admire you until you notice him

"If you're gonna sneak away darlin' you could at least tell me, I worry." He scolds but smiles and sits next to you.

Hobie LOVES making people uncomfortable

He'll admire you fighting and just yell out how hot you are or how turned on he is, not caring who hears

He'll make out with you in front of anyone, anytime.

On a different note, when you obsessively buy books he wants to stop you but he can't because you look so cute with the way your face lights up at each cover

"I've been wanting this one!" Or, "I have this one but this is a different cover!"

He isn't all for traditional gender roles but he will pay for your stuff, just because he loves you. He lets you pay for him sometimes if you offer

He sometimes sneaks a book out, stealing it just because he hates the way you insist on following rules

"Here, I took this one for ya," he says

"Hobart Brown!" You scold but can't help being happy for the book

"What? I'm stealing from the rich," he gestures to the book store. "And giving to the poor," he ends, gesturing at you.

He gives to 'the poor' a lot

If you ever talk about a book to him that you want, it randomly appears on you bookshelf

Sorry for the abrupt ending lmao

Tags: // @liliummz // @themarvelprince // @misselsbells06 // @american-sataness // @cr0ssoverf4n4tic // @depressednoob // @cerene-ciderr // @leighanne03 // @inluvwithfictionalwomen // @singhfae // @mythixmagic // @itsyourboymicheal // @Ravensinthedaylight // @dai-tsukki-desu // @url0calw3irdo // @daisydark //

Join my taglist!

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #atsv spoilers #atsv #across the spiderverse #hobie atsv #hobart brown #hobart brown x reader #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown drawing #miles morales #pavitr prabhakar #spider gwen #marvel imagine #marvel

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minimoxha · 1 year

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I see the light

Summary: After his wife and daughter died he thought he lost everything. However, you for some reason, you'd didn't disappear. So, Miguel locked you up. He had to find some way to protect you so you couldn't be taken from him like Gabriella. What better way to do that then keep you in his dimension where he could get to you in case of anything

Warnings: Cussing, Nothing really

Chapter masterlist

The first place Hobart brown took y/n was to paris france, in universe 3202. It was a peaceful spider-man with its spider woman being the loudest thing in there. He’d been to paris before, among a bunch of other places in his travels to find actually cool things. Paris was something on everyone’s wishlist, it was bound to be on yours. The both of you stood in an alleyway after teleporting. Y/n looking around in awe and touching anything she could get her hands on while Hobie attempted to hide his spidersuit.

“Where are we Hobie?” She asks, walking in circles, touching everything. It was almost line she was a toddler who had never been able to let her mind run wild. It was cute.

“This ‘ere’s called Paris, Mate” (bare with me i’m imagining this is how they talk bare with me here now). “We gonna do some things you might like before we go see the fireworks” Hobie responds, walking out the alleyway with her in tow, not realizing the looks people gave. However, there was still a problem with the whole plan.

“You never told me what you want as payment!” She said, making the man hault in his tracks.

“Tell yer dad to get off my ass for a bit, Yeah? That’s what my payment is.” Hobie continued to walk, putting his hands in his pocket and changing his posture to something that really wasn’t good for his back. Y/n didn’t care though , she was too busy looking at the scenery and the people.

She did stare for too long which made people give her weird looks back. Or maybe it was the fact that what she was wearing was a bit over the top. A cute purple dress with flowers, her favorite dress. Miguel had bought it for her one day. It could’ve been because she was wearing fat cow slippers that mooed every time she stepped. “You look like a tourist, try to look like you at least live here” Hobbie laughed before walking into a macaroon shop. Y/n followed intently. The smell of the maroons hit her immediately and she immediately felt her stomach drop. “Y’a hungry?” She nodded. Hobbie walked to the counter and ordered two ice creams macaroon sandwiches and then took the girl to sit down T the table.

With The first bite, she was taken by surprise. Her dad had never made these things for her, she didn’t even realize these things existed. Would it be to much to say this was the best thing she has ever tasted in her now eighteen years of living? Hobbie saw her from across the table, smiling as she enjoyed the four macrons she had. They were extremely pricy and he’d never just pay for random’l shit like that that he didn’t need. He had never donr that until now. He couldn’t resist seeing her smile again.

When they left the cafe, he was now listening to her ramble about the food. Yeah, it was a little annoying but he was glad he could give her his first experience. His heart started beating at the the thought of her getting a bunch of other experiences before tonight. “We can go see the eiffel tower next and then we can go to another dimension, would you have fun with that? Y/nnie?” He asked.

She felt herself get giddy at the nickname he gave her. She had never felt this way when she was called nicknames by her dad so why did she feel this way with him? She also realized how when he spoke, her pulse sped up and how handsome he looked. Was this a crush? When the ones she’d see on tv and they would have amazing pilot build up before they get married and fall in love. The thought of having a romance like they did in business propanol or Att woo made her so cheerful inside. Their relationships were so cute, something she dreamed of happening when she was finally let down from her castle. Was Hobie the one?

—

“Jessica, you need to go send someone to investigate the whereabouts of this anomaly. He’s been through five universes. We need five of the teens on the universes.” Miguel said to jessica who gave a nod and went to go call all the teenagers to go on missions. Miguel was determined to get whatever anomaly was this powerful and before they would rip themselves through this one and hurt everyone inside.

The anomaly was leaving every single universe they touched in shambles, there was no telling which one they’d get next.

—-

Hobbie looked at the alert on his watch, and choose to ignore it and continue to show the girl around the Eiffel tower. Whatever they wanted wasn’t that important.

Taglist:

@discowizard88 @fairycorequeen @onyxstarhigh06

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cherryrainn · 1 year

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☽ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰

— rebel rhythms

hobart brown cuddle headcanons

hobie is a cuddler through and through. he loves the physical closeness and the feeling of being wrapped up in your arms. cuddling is one of his favorite ways to relax and unwind after a long day.

when cuddling, hobie likes to have his head on your chest, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. it brings him a sense of comfort and reminds him that he's safe and loved in your embrace.

he's a big fan of cuddling while playing his guitar. you'll often find yourselves snuggled up on the couch or bed, with hobie strumming soothing melodies while you run your fingers through his hair or rest your head on his shoulder.

hobie's cuddles are filled with a sense of rebelliousness and adventure. he may wrap his arms around you tightly, pulling you close as if protecting you from the world. it's an embrace that says, "we're in this together"

he enjoys cuddling in unconventional places. whether it's perched on a rooftop, hanging out on a fire escape, or sitting on a graffitied wall, hobie finds joy in sharing intimate moments with you in unexpected locations

hobie loves to whisper lyrics in your ear while you cuddle. his voice is raspy and filled with passion, adding an extra layer of intensity and excitement to your moments together.

sometimes, he'll surprise you with impromptu dance sessions while cuddling. he'll sway to the rhythm of his music or pull you up for a fun dance.

hobie is a big fan of cuddling under a patchwork quilt or a cozy punk-themed blanket. he enjoys the feeling of being wrapped up together, surrounded by warmth and the sense of homemade comfort.

his cuddles are often filled with laughter and playfulness. he might tickle you lightly or engage in a friendly pillow fight, all while keeping you in his arms and maintaining the sense of connection and affection.

hobie's cuddles can also be a source of solace during difficult times. he's a great listener and is always there to provide support and reassurance. his embrace becomes a safe space where you can open up and share your deepest fears and worries.

hobie loves sharing his favorite playlists or discovering music together while cuddling. it becomes a bonding experience, where you can explore and appreciate the rebellious spirit of punk music in the comfort of each other's arms.

he enjoys giving surprise forehead kisses or pecks on the cheek while cuddling. it's a small gesture that carries a lot of affection and shows his love for you.

hobie's cuddles often extend to lazy mornings in bed. he's a fan of long cuddling sessions, where the two of you can simply enjoy each other's presence, exchanging soft whispers and gentle touches as the sun streams through the windows.

hobie finds comfort in the scent of your hair or the warmth of your skin while cuddling. it's a sensory experience that helps him feel grounded and connected to you on a deeper level.

he believes in the power of cuddling as a form of resistance. in a world that can be harsh and unforgiving, hobie sees cuddling as a way to reclaim tenderness, love, and intimacy as acts of defiance.

#spider punk #hobart brown #hobie brown #y/n #reader insert #x reader #fluff #cuddles #spiderverse #spiderman #into the spider verse #across the universe #cuddling #cuddle headcanons

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spid3rpunksimp · 1 year

Text

Hobie brown x Spider! gn! reader

Since y'all liked the first one so much, here's the second.

Masterlist

Please don't leave me.

part 1

A/N:This one's prob gonna be fluffy cause I couldn't handle it if it wasn't, I probably would cry

Warnings:Blood, Angst, fluff, A LOT of crying, pain, idk what else

Everything was silent.

Almost peacful.

Almost

Everything was black. Nothing was around me. Everything was so quiet, but I couldn't see anyone. I wanted to cry but I couldn't. I wanted Hobie but I couldn't find him. I felt...nothing.

How could I have left him like that how could I ha-

You were brought back to reality with the feeling of your face, it was a slight stinging. You saw a simple light that you knew was Hobie. He was the only destination you wanted right now.

You ran towards it but it felt like quicksand, every time you took a step you fell deeper and deeper in. You felt tired again, you felt cold. You wanted to lay down.

"Y/N please...please."

Suddenly your eyes began to open as you looked at Hobie, holding you in his arms as the rest of the crew swung down. As soon as Gwen and Paveir saw you they put their hands over their mouths. Jess got a little closer to you before doing the same. You looked horrible. You had scratches all over your face. Pain washed over you again as you felt tears running down your face again. "Y/N stay with me okay, we're gonna get you to the hospital, everything' is gonna be ok-"

You cut Hobie off by placing your hand on his check, his mask still over his face. You placed your hand over the bottom side of his face and pulled the mask up, your mask was torn in every was imaginable, your face on full display, showing all your tears. As you pulled the mask off of Hobie's face you saw the broken look over his face as he examined your body. The body he would hold every night as you two would fall asleep together only for you to be back in your universe the next morning before he even woke up. The body he would make love with. The body he would kiss. It was dying right in front of him. The love of his life...was dying right in front of him.

"H-hobart.." you said in a wispier, your voice horse as Miguel attempted to figure out a way to get you out of here without causing more harm to your spine. You placed a hand on the side of Hobie's face, his warm tears hitting your hand, continuing to run out of his eyes as he felt your usually warm hands become colder and colder by the minute.

"Hobs...promise me something." you began before Hobie's eyes widened, denial hitting him like an asteroid. "NO, no no no your gonna be alright, love. Your gonna make it out of this and we're gonna go home and we're gonna go right back to loving each other like always, your gonna be al-"

You placed your bloody finger over his lips as you flung one arm over your stomach, looking down at the sting you saw the blood, everywhere. You looked back to Hobie and removed your finger from his lips, leaving blood on his lips as you began to speak again. "Promise me...promise you'll find another person. Promise me you'll live your amazing life and play your guitar and every time you d-drink tea, promise me you'll think of me."

"NO! Love, you're gonna be alright. You're gonna make it out of this, okay." Hobie said, tears pouring out of his eyes as he watched two lines go down your bloody face, tears pouring out of either side. "Love, we both know that's not true." you said as you gave Hobie a smile. Everyone was watching Hobie breaking, Miguel frantically trying to get more spider people over there, his watch glitching like crazy. Hobie cried as he leaned over you, holding you tighter and tighter. "Please don't go..." Hobie said, broken sobs coming out of his voice as he said it. You looked over to see Gwen and Jess crying, Paveir holding on by a thread. "I l-love you, Hobie brown." you said as you fell into the sleepiness that was holding you captive, the last words coming out in a shudder.

Everything was quite again

You felt guilty

You wanted to cry but you couldn't

It hurt so bad

You wanted Hobie but you couldn't

It hurt

. . .

So bad

. . .

You heard the sound of beeps.

Beep, beep, beep

You felt something warm holding your hard

He was crying.

He was in pain

You felt as your eyes fluttered open, the bright light blinding you for a moment as you adjusted to the light. The world around you getting more and more noticeable. Looking to the side, you felt a jerk as Hobie's brow, tear filled eyes looked up to you.

You put your hands over your mouth as you looked at Hobie, without skipping a beat he was soon hugging you tightly, not caring what stitches he would reopen. And you didn't care either. He was right, you were gonna make it out of this. "I thought I-" your raspy voice was cut off by a broken sob.

"Shhhh, don't talk, love." Hobie said as he placed a hand on the side of your head, pecking your lips once more.

"The doctors said your gonna make it, you've been out for a week, they say you should be mostly healed cause your body was healing while you were sleeping, that's why you were out for so long. Oh fuck I'm so god damn happy your alive!" he said as he kissed you once more.

You began to pull him into the bed, him not caring at all about what you were wanting, he would do it if it meant being close with you. "Sleep with me." you said looking at him through happy tear filled eyes as each of you laid down, holding one another tightly.

As you fell into dreamland next to each other, Jessica came by to see if Hobie was doing alright, only to see the two of you smiling, sleeping next to one another once again. Snapping a picture of the two of you, she sent it to Miguel say in it 'She's awake, and alive. You have to admit messing with this canon event was worth it.'

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

I LOVE THE ENDING SO MUCH!

If you guys weren't satisfied with the ending tell me and I'll think about writing an alternative ending.

Part 3 for after you're healed?

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wifey-ohara · 1 year

Text

Blood and fire, they burn the same way

Part1

Angsty miguel &teen spider!reader

Notes: mentioned characters death, nothing major, sad, mentiones of threats of violence, this one is just dull really, i should really add to it ,hobie is here!,not proof read

tag list:@mvlanchqly

4:00 am

You woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and well rested, it's been years since you had that kind of good sleep, is this what revenge feels like? Now you understand why villains hold grudges so bad

With a small smirk, you got up and got ready for your day, you didn't have anything to do today, so a day in the lab it is then, your mood got better at the decision you made.

Then it fell back down

There he was, right where you left him, leaning on the wall eyes so puffy you doubted he could open them

Pathetic

With a small huff you entered the kitchen making yourself a drink, hoping that your day wouldn't be ruined

You were almost done when you heared him a take a sharp breath,

It took a moment for him to move, standing up and walking towards you, blocking your exit,, too much for hoping you think

"Good morning " his voice was hourse, raw, painful, how much did he cry

"morning" you replied standing in front of him drink in your hand, waiting for him to move

"..H-how did you sleep?" he asked, almost shy

"good, thanks for asking" you answered

With a slight flinch he backed up, giving you room to move and go to your lab

Miguel wantched you leave and then with a click, you were gone

He wondered how hard is it gonna be, if it isn't impossible

So now, sitting in the couch his brain trying to process what happened to him in those last few days

He killed his wife and daughter because he was selfish, destroying a universe in the process

He missed his actual wife's death when she waiting for him to return, he didn't get to say goodbye, he doesn't know if he deserve to do so

And you, with you cold eyes and colder replies, pouring acid into his wounds, he deserves it, he knows he does, but he wants to do right by you, try and fix whatever shattered glass left between you two, and it seems that it'll cut him every step of the way, and he doesn't mind one bit, as long as you don't wish him dead, that's all he wants, not forgiveness, not a relationship, not love, only a middle ground, to live with you without feeling the heavy air around

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the lab door open

"thanks Ben, I'll read it and take care of it" you said getting out, a screen showing that you're on a call with ben, another saving a report

"thanks dude! I'm sorry i didnt do it last night, i was so tired i fell asleep so quick!" the voice from the screen said

"don't worry about it I'll see you next time" you said hanging up..

Then a normal door opening and closing again,, the one to your room this time

He sighed, leaning back on the couch, staring at the ceiling above him

What wouldn't he give for forgiveness?

And then the door knocked...

He stood up to open it, and was shocked to find..

"hobart?"

In all his punky glory, with his wide and wild hair, shiny piercings, hobart brown was at his door step

He was smirking a cocky smile, one that fell the moment he laid eyes on the taller man, soon turning into a frown as he looked miguel up and down

Miguel was still confused..

Hobie recovered quick though, pushing past him and into the house, yelling "Ayo, smartass, where you at? You're never late!" into the house, it didn't surprise miguel that much, what did surprise him was you, coming out of your room, a playful frown on your face "I can get too occupied in a project from time to time" fixing you outfit

He stood there in the middle of the living room watching you walking around, collecting your, phone, wallet and anything else someone would need for an outing, hobie behind you talking about something or the other, he didn't really care

He knows he shouldn't ask, that he has no right to do so, but the words leave his mouth, forced.

"where are you going?"

You paused midway through your quick search for your stuff, looking at him, hobie also quieted down behind you, you know it a big deal when that happens

Hobie Brown was your closest friend,(he might say that someone earns such label when you have a bunch of friends, and then choose who you let in or not, which you don't, but you'll roll your eyes every time at it anyway) knows about your fathers, rather nostalgic trip he had for 12 years, only he and lyla do, he found out when came to loot in on your snacks and found you crying, rare, yes, but possible, he asked you what was wrong and you told him, what was a talk about your mother turned into your life story, he listened the whole time, only commenting after, he had alot of choice words, still does but you convinced him out of going to the universe your father was in and beating the crap out of him both for cheating and abandoning you

So now, the fact that he didn't have a "talk" with him is impressive, what's more so, is that he didn't answer miguel at the moment

Is he being funny?

No way he thinks that i must answer

Did he hit his head, is he insane?

Taking a breath, you look in his eyes, red irises, red and puffy "out." you said, continuing your tour around your house, then heading to the door where miguel stood, going past him and leaving, you could swear if you had a knife you could cut the tension he caused, as if he ever caused anything else to you

"be safe" he said

"as if they needed to hear that from you" hobie scoffed, slowly reaching his limits

"Come on we're gonna be late" you said, already out the door

sorry for not posting, just can't seem to write lately,but i promise to get them doe eventually!

#miguel o'hara x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #hobie spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara #platonic #miguel o’hara x platonic reader #platonic reader #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara

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the-kr8tor · 13 days

Note

KATY I ORDERED A BIG BAT PLUSHIE AND IM GOING TO PIERCE IT AND NAME IT HOBAT. Daily Hobie HC! Artsy Hobie time >:) (Non-spiderpunk au) There's no doubt whenever the house is too quiet, you're bound to find your love, Hobart Larry Brown, painting somewhere and ruining his posture even further. Whenever he's painting, you love to drag the beanbag and get comfy behind him with a book or your own sketchbook, plus a cup of chai or some other drink, depending on your mood. When Hobie paints, he gets invested, especially if he's painting you. He finds that you're his muse, an easy way to get out of artists block. He doesn't even need for you to sit, simply just grabbing a photo of you and using it as reference. Besides, he sees you every single day, so there's no way he hasn't memorized how gorgeous you are. It's storming outside, giving the warm, toasty inside of the boathouse the perfect comfy atmosphere to simply just relax in each other's presence. You find that your beanbag had already been placed behind Hobie to watch him, as well as a hot cup of hot chocolate beside it, even his plaid blanket splayed over for you. Hobie's already occupied, humming to himself as he dips his paintbrush into a cup of paint he had, making calculated strokes on the canvas. His lips curve into a smile as he hears you get comfy in the bean bag, seeing out of the corner of his eye how you drape his blanket over yourself with the mug in your hands. You watch Hobie for a few hours, even falling asleep at one point, to which Hobie paused his work and shifted your body slightly so you wouldn't get any sore spots when you woke up. With your eyes fluttering open, you manage to catch the crackles coming from his bones as Hobie stands up and stretches himself. Lifting your head up, the sound of the beans shifting catches his attention, making him look around at you with a smile at your tired face. Despite your tired protests for him to take a break, Hobie reassures you that he'll be fine. However, the moment he feels your hands on his shoulders, Hobie melts. The moment he sat back on his chair, you got up, your hands automatically going to his shoulder, kneading out the forming knots as he leans back into you, eyes closed in bliss. It only takes a few minutes of that to convince him to take a break and come to the couch, where he lays on your lap, snuggling his face into your middle with his arms wrapped around your hips. As you knead away the knots, engaging in simple banter and just asking what he'd want to eat, since he hasn't done that, you can feel Hobie kneading at your lower back like a cat making biscuits, in perfect timing to you massaging his shoulders. After some quickly made food and water, Hobie returns back to his painting, feeling more refreshed as he follows his reference, which you somehow hadn't seen. He hears you return to the beanbag, watching him with a smile. When he's done, you couldn't believe it. He had painted the first date you both had with each other, adding little heart effects coming off the two of you, as well as even adding some random sketches of you and him in his chibi artstyle. To finish it off, as you stare with your eyes analyzing every detail of the painting, Hobie pulls you into a hug, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. He dipped his fingers in the reddish pink paint he mixed up for hearts, smearing it against your cheek in a messy heart shape, before winking at you with the word 'perfect' falling from his lips. No doubt, the moment you try to do the same is the moment where things begin to get a little messy, with Hobie trying to dodge your advances while you laugh and pull him in. -🐦‍⬛

OMFG WISNJWKSNNWS PLS SHOW IT TO ME AND MY LIFE IS FULFILLED (only if you want too)

Daily Hobie HC ‼️‼️‼️

WAKE UP NEW ARTIST HOBIE INCOMING

Ah yes hobart larry brown and i have the same shrimp posture

A BEANBAG! I miss those dearly!

I love how hobie barely needs references when it comes to you 😍😍 (other artists hate him for being that cool 😎)

It's stormy, and they're in a houseboat while they relax on beanbag chairs with their hot cocoa--- say no more I'm already jealous I want what they have

🥰🥰🥰😍 oh I'm in love with this one , 🐦‍⬛ anon i can totally see me and hobie being in this relaxing environment! I got the ooeygooey fluffy feeling!

Get you a man who will paint your first date together just from memory alone 🥹🥹😍

PAINT FIGHT!! if they have any pets then they'll be covered in paint too HAHAHHAHA

#ask answered #chatting with lovelies #hobie thoughts #hobie headcanons #daily hobie hc!!#🫶🫶🫶#🐦‍⬛ anon #hobie fluff

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kairiscorner · 1 year

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HI PO :DD IM THE ANON WHO ASKED FOR THE KUYA HOBIE STORY FROM S COUPLE WEEKS AGO HAHA

ANYWAYS

Do you mind if you write like a Hobie Brown x Reader where it’s like that one scene in Howls Moving Castle where the readers like getting harassed by police officers and he just comes in out of nowhere as Spider Punk sayin “There you are sweetheart, sorry i’m late.”

THIS HAS BEEN MARINATING IN MY MIND FOR WEEKS DHJFHFJF

ANYWAYS TY I LOVE UR WORK AS ALWAYS KAIRI 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽 IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY

BCEIBFUIRBVIRBIV THAT MAKES ME HAPPY KNOWING I MAKE YOU SO HAPPY <:DD AND OMG I WAS ACTUALLY THINKING OF THAT BEFORE TOO???????? BEJIBFEIBIFRBVIRIV YESYESYES I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS !!!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

that's my dear. – hobie brown x gn!reader

petrified and unsure of what to do, the two police officers who called your attention as they eyed you up and down with mischievous and devilish gleams in their eyes had approached you ever so slowly, making you step back even further away from them as they kept nearing you the more you backed away. they started their little one-sided 'banter' with you through questions of where you were going, or what a 'pretty little doll' like you was doing by themselves, walking down this dim, creepy alleyway all alone. you answered them in a small voice at first, since you were a bit intimidated and scared of them for being so close to you and smiling so... eagerly as they looked you up and down.

they chuckled to themselves as they called you a 'cute little mouse' for sounding like you were squeaking out your answers. they kept commenting on how adorable you looked, asking you if you had any partner or someone that wouldn't be too pleased to find out a couple of cops you happened upon were just merely teasing you, but the way you saw it, they went above and beyond the border of 'teasing, they were harassing you. they were disgusting, they kept creeping closer towards you as you tried to back off and run in the opposite direction; whispers of pleading you to stay in a baby-like voice and chuckles from the police officers filled your ears as you felt your breath hitching in your chest. you felt a massive weight on your shoulders and back and your voice faltering as you kept muttering under your breath in a begging plea to 'please... leave me alone...'

"well, i'm awfully late, now aren't i, dearest?"

the voice that called out to you was smooth and languid, it was relaxed, nonchalant, even; it was also extremely... familiar. you shuddered a bit as you felt their hand on your shoulder, and the warmth you felt from their touch soothed you in a way. you looked up, and they faced you as they cast their gaze lower and smirked at you. "hobart...!" you silently murmured his name as he chuckled and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close towards his chest, causing your heart to beat quickly and throb as a heat filled your cheeks and caused a burning sensation in your throat as you yearned to thank him for coming, but he didn't want you to thank him yet.

hobie looked at the officers with a raised eyebrow as the two began to slowly back away, seeing how intimate he was with you, they figured they'd be in a world of trouble if you told him just how disrespectful and creepy these two were being towards you. they tried to act all friendly around hobie, say they were merely joking around with you and that 'you weren't hurt at all by what happened', that they were merely admiring how beautiful you were, but hobie could see through their lies and leaned towards them; he practically hovered over them as he eyed them down, being so tall and all, he was just so frightening to them.

"sure y'were... anyway, there you were, sweetheart. sorry i'm late, but let's make haste now, love, can't let our dinner table for two wait, can we?" he told you with a cheeky grin as you clung on to his chest, with hobie webbing the officers' feet together while they were too busy looking up at his eyes in fear. the two bumbling cops tried to head back to their car but ended up stumbling over each other and knocking their heads down on the hard pavement below.

you flinched at the sound, but hobie held your shoulders with both of his hands and reassured you, all would be fine now. he put on his mask and looked at you through his painted-like lenses, his hand extended towards you. "how 'bout i take you away from here, love, get you away from these lousy idiots?" he offered you with a comforting tone as you ended up taking his hand. "please, take me away, hobart..." you pleaded with him as you let go of his hand and wrapped your arms around his neck, signaling hobie to finally do what he's dreamed of doing with you this whole time.

as he swung off into the distance, with the two of you in mid-air, he smiled and chuckled at your calmer than expected reaction and held you closer to his chest. "you're a natural, dear." he complimented you, which made you flustered a bit and show a hint of a smile on your face. hobie's hands were so soft and comforting, they were nothing like the other men who've held you, it was merely in his hands that you felt what true affection and adoration really was like, even if it wasn't worded out... you could tell, he loved you so, so very much.

he dropped you off at your room by your home, sneaking you in through the window and hanging around for a short while to make sure there was nothing else that was about to harm you. he pulled his mask off his head and showed you his wide, brilliant grin and charming, chestnut brown eyes as you looked at him with a bashful grin and a flustered face from how intimate the impromptu 'adventurous' swinging-around-town date ended up being. you approached him by the window to see him off, and you placed both hands of yours on either sides of his face--and as you gazed at his eyes that were filled with pure devotion towards you... you pulled him in close for a quick, but tender and passionate, kiss.

as hobie pulled away, he smirked at you and couldn't keep his eyes off you, off every single part of you that was too perfect to not adore. "that's my dearest... and i promise you, that table for two dinner date, i'll make it come true, if you'll have me." he said with a slight wink at you, which made your heart skip a beat as you smiled even wider at him as he muttered a 'love you', pulled his mask back down, and swung off into the distance.

to be loved by a boy named hobie brown... it was a feeling more ethereal and cathartic, and enchanting, than the love of any other person you ever knew in your life; and dare you say, you had hoped for that table for two dinner date to become a reality tonight. nothing wrong with hoping, no?

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @arachnoia @solecitoszn @conitagray

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fariesoiree · 10 months

Text

minors mdni

hobie is just so needy today.

it really is his fault but it’s driving you up the wall. he’s the one who insisted on tagging along with you but now he wants to complain. you’re not giving him enough attention, you’re not shopping fast enough, you’re not leaving soon enough. it’s all because of that damn chocolate.

you’re an innocent bystander in all this, for once. he’s the one who discovered it and the one who bought it. originally, he did try to attempt you to try it with him but you flat out refused.

you’re too busy, having to work long hours for the next few days. the last thing you want is some mysterious aphrodisiac running through your system.

hobie has all the time in the world, though. because he doesn’t work a conventional job he figured he’d be the perfect subject. especially after you told him just how doubtful you were.

there is just dozens of products claiming to do the same, both cheaper and expensive. to you, aphrodisiacs are just another scam for the touch starved. never did you think the king of physical affection himself would introduce it into your relationship.

that was a mere few hours ago. now, he’s tugging at your sweater. he will not let you go for more than five seconds without him feeling you up. every time you find yourself stopping to flip through the clothing rack, hobie’s hands are wandering over your body.

“stop it,” you push his hands away from your body for the umpteenth time. this time, they’ve wandered underneath your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin.

the last time you gave him the benefit of the doubt, he’d nearly unclipped your bra.

from an outside perspective, hobie is doting on you with his arms wrapped around you and his head resting on your shoulders. only you know how he squeezes at your tummy and laps the skin on your neck.

“hobart,” you sneer. you’re tempted to push him away from you completely.

that gets him. he hesitates, but only for a second. the shock of his government name leaving your lips doesn’t stop him for long. he’s too far gone, too deep in thinking with his dick. “call me that again and i’ll shove my whole dick in you right now.”

“try it. i’ll kill you, then myself.” you push a hanger on, passing up another skirt. you’re doing your best to make the most of what you have. this is supposed to be a relaxing little treat to yourself for all your hard work. instead, you’re fighting to keep hobie away from you.

you’re only successful for two more seconds before he’s back at it, trying to undress you in public. he tells you he can’t help it. you just look too good and smell too sweet. he’s intoxicated off the strawberry poundcake perfume you’re wearing and the way your ass looks in your jeans.

he pushes against you. groaning into your ear when he fits so snugly against you. the chocolate really has him on fire. just hearing your voice has precum leaking. he’s already addicted to you without it. with it, he’s convinced he’s ready to have baby now. “come on, ☆. let’s just go home. i’ll bring you back tomorrow.”

“baby, i can’t. i work tomorrow.” you untangle your limbs. in the end, you decide it’s better to be separate. he can’t control himself and you can’t control him.

it’s to no avail. just as quickly as you find yourself finally free from his grip, he’s pulling you back into his chest. “okay. then the next day.” he digs his nose into your scalp. the smell of your black vanilla shampoo turns him nearly animalistic

meanwhile, you’re suffocating in his loose black crop top. you wouldn’t care if the corset underneath wasn’t squishing your face. “still can’t. i have class.” you have to lift your head, much to his dismay.

one look at you changes that. it’s a fair trade, he rationalizes with a hungry stare. “okay? then skip it or some shit. i don’t care.” his hands dip down rather quickly. he gropes and grabs, despite your quiet shriek.

“get offa’ me.” you all but shove him, head whipping around to check if anyone saw. you’re lucky the mall is deserted so early in the morning on a weekday. the run of the mill teenagers are busy in class. “i swear to god if you do that again i’ll grind you into dust.” you point a finger at him but you’re sure you don’t look threatening at all.

he reaches for you again, scowling when you narrowly dodge him. “promise?” hobie quips with an annoying raise of his brow. his voice drops to a whisper when he finally catches you and tugs you close. “you can’t even suck me off in the dressing room?”

your face is burning with a fire you’ve never felt before. where he got the confidence to say such words, you have no idea. in public, at that! “are you actually serious?” you pinch the tips of your ears. sure enough, they’re warm with humiliation. does he have no shame?”

oh he’s serious all right. he’s so serious he drags you off to the dressing rooms himself. thanks to his lifelong experience in breaking laws and the learned creeping that comes with living a double life, he slips right by the employees with no problems.

he’s careless, bumping all against the walls, in a rush to lock the door behind you. you’ve never seen him this eager before. sure, during your usual times he’s excited. but right now, he’s nearly cumming before you’re doing anything.

“you’re sure you wanna do this? you really wanna? right here?” you’re quieter than usual, feeling as if it’s required while you’re sneaking around.

“the more you ask me, the longer this will take.” even the way he requests for you to shut up isn’t the same. there is no threat backing up his words, even when he closes the space between you.

you’re curious. some chocolate had your usually composed boyfriend like this? you’re not going to lie to yourself and pretend his change in behavior doesn’t make you feel some type of way.

usually it’s you shaking with need and making a mess everywhere. never have you had this much power in your relationship. if you weren’t on a time crunch and in the privacy of your home, you would have definitely taken your time with him. “you’re the one who needs me. i’ll change my mind.”

“please don’t play with me, right now. i ate the whole fucking square and i swear to – if you don’t do something, i’ll suck it myself.” he’s so frantic to remove the layers of silver belts, it takes him nearly twice as long. you aid him, taking pity. it’s you so many times on that end of the stick. even though you’ve never eaten an aphrodisiac, having hobie as your boyfriend is enough.

you giggle when hobie shuffles toward you, pants hanging loosely. he doesn’t share your sentiment. apparently, nothing about this is funny. he doesn’t argue back. just pops his dick in your face.

your wrap your fingers around the base and already, he’s groaning. for once he has to brace himself against you, hands resting in your shoulders.

“y’know you have to be quiet right?” you glance up at him. you test his reactions with slow jerks of your wrist. you don’t really need to when he’s already this worked up but it’s nice to the one causing the soft sighs.

his breath fans over your face and warms your cheeks. between his glistening shaft and his tightly wounded face, you don’t know where to look. “don’t let this, fuck. don’t let this go to your head.”

it’s far too late for that but you don’t tell him. you just smile to yourself instead and swirl your tongue around his tip. you’re teasing, he knows, but he honestly doesn’t care. his senses are heightened so much this feels like enough.

jokes on him, hobie is unprepared when you do begin to swallow him. he shocks himself when he gasps and pushes your head away. it’s so uncharacteristic of him that even he is embarrassed about it. “shit, baby. could have said something first.” he feels pathetic avoiding your gaze and even more so he meets his own in the mirror.

you shake your head, tongue darting out to lick the slightly salty remnants off your lips. “you don’t get to annoy me all day and push me away.” it would be unfair if you didn’t enjoy this, right? it’s only right after all he’s put you through. you owe it to him to leave him shaking.

he’s just about to chastise you and defend his honor when you’re right where you started. this time, however, you’re forcing yourself to take as much as you can.

hobie is constantly bumping against your throat with the way you’re bobbing your head. tears prickle your eyes and occasionally you gag but it’s all worth it. all when his hand is flying to cover his mouth and the other one has a grip on your hair.

contrary to popular belief, he isn’t forcing your head down but pulling your head away. he’s far more sensitive than he thought, too sensitive for his own good.

his hand is barely sufficient to keep his cries to a minimum, alternating between telling you to stop and to keep going.

your nails dig into his skin, being your main defense from being yanked off. you only stop to come up for air. your thumb circles around his tip with enough pressure to have him shuddering. your breath fans over his skin when you press wet kisses along his shaft.

“baby,” hobie speaks with his clenched in a fist, knuckles in his mouth. it serves as a warning. his brain is too far incapacitated to form sentences.

“if you’re gonna cum, do it in my mouth.” you mumble, words ghosting over him. it’s embarrassing enough to be giving him a blowjob in the mall dressing room. the last thing you want is cum stains littering your top.

it only takes his dick being enveloped in the warmth of your mouth for him to be shooting out thick ropes. hobie whines, using the hold he has on your hair to pull you off.

you wait until his eyes are on you to make a show out of swallowing his load, mouth opening to display the disappearing evidence.

it’s probably a mistake on your part when you physically see the hunger return in his face with a vengeance.

“fuck that was hot. let’s go home and do it again.”

your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. “what?” you don’t understand how he can already be thinking of another round when he was just griping about his sensitivity. “but what about me? i want to stay.” you watch him scramble to redress himself, accessories and all. your eyebrows knit together because there is no way some chocolate can do this.

“i’ll bring you back tomorrow,” he insists, pulling you to your feet. whatever secrecy you still have is thrown out the window when he pushes the door open with enough force to have it ricocheting off the wall.

“but i can’t. i have work, remember?” you cup the back of your head as he leads you through the store, right to the exit. you didn’t have time to fix your hair. he’s been so inconsiderate, it’s not fair.

“okay then we’ll go the next day.”

“ ‘bie, i have class – ” you really have to look at what they put in this stuff.

“then fuckin’ skip it. i don’t care.”

#ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙#my very best attempt at sub bie #hope you like it :3 #astv hobie #hobie brown #hobie smut #hobie x black!reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #x black fem reader #x black reader #x reader

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