#hobi drabble

[7ndipity]

My One and Only

Hobi x Reader

Summary: You decide to let Hobi eat you out for the first time. That’s is, pwp.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: +18 mdni, smut, oral(f.receiving), hair pulling, protected sex(pls be responsible), so many petnames, mentions of anxiety, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to @ygwa for this request! I hope this lives up to your expectations! Love you💜

Masterlist

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Hobi had been many of your firsts; first real boyfriend, first I love you, and that pattern had continued into the bedroom. He’d always made you feel so safe and cared for, guiding you through anything new experience that you came across together.

But one of the things you had yet to do let him do was go down on you. The first time he asked, you’d actually said no, anxiety suddenly flaring up and getting the best of you, but he’d been nothing understanding and reassuring, reminding you that your comfort was his top priority and that the two of you didn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to.

But that was the thing, you definitely wanted to, in truth, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since he brought it up, but sometimes your nerves just got the better of you, worried about doing the wrong thing, or not living up to yours or his expectations.

But tonight, after about a week or so, you’d gotten the courage to bring it back up to him, and couldn’t say that you regretted your decision, sat on his lap as you messily made out, arms looped around his neck as he gripped your hips, grinding you against him. He’d wanted to make sure you were turned on enough and ready for him, but after twenty minutes of kissing and teasing from him, you were bordering on desperate for more, painfully aware of the wetness pooling between your legs.

Hobi seemed to catch your shift in mood from the way you started to press harder against him, pulling back to look at you with hooded eyes.

“Are you ready?” He asked breathlessly.

“Mhm.” You nodded, ignoring the faint flutter of nerves that his words stirred.

“Hey,” He cupped your face gently. looking at you with so much adoration, you could cry. “Anytime that you start to feel uncomfortable, we can stop, okay? It’s no big deal.”

You nodded.

“You remember your words?”

“Red for stop, Yellow for slow down, Green for keep going.”

“Good girl.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, laying you back on the bed.

He took his time on his descent, kissing and nipping his way down your chest and tummy, running his hands along your thighs light enough to raise goosebumps as he removed your bottoms, guiding your legs to spread wider so he could settle comfortably between them on his stomach.

You peered down at him as he planted open mouthed kisses along each of your thighs, sucking a small spot on the delicate skin that you’d likely feel for several days.

“Hobi.” You whined, squirming in his hold.

“Oh, now you’re impatient, hmm?” He chuckled, catching your hands as you tried to cover your face in embarrassment.

“It’s alright, Sweetheart,” He said soothingly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll quit teasing, okay? Just relax.”

He released your hands in favor of holding onto your hips, placing a kiss just above where you needed him before licking a broad stripe through your wet folds, making you jolt at the sensation.

“Fuck, knew you’d taste good.” He groaned, dipping back in for another taste, lapping up your wetness hungrily.

It felt like nothing you’d ever experienced, his warm tongue moving with careful precision, dipping into your entrance before coming back up to circle your clit, making you let out a whine.

“H-Hobi.” You moaned.

“Hmm? What is it, Love?” He asked sweetly, glancing up at you. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah.” You sighed.

“You wanna try something?” He asked, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Okay.” You said, slightly nervous, but trusting him.

He leaned back in, laving over your clit with his tongue a few times before closing his lips around the soft bud and sucking, causing your back to arch off the bed as you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, pleasure shooting through you like lightning.

He pulled away with a wet noise, scanning your face attentively.

“Color?” He asked.

“G-Green.” You staggered.

He dove back in, repeating the action a few more times, turning you into a writhing mess, your hands finding his hair as you scrambled for something to hold onto, tugging hard enough to earn a low groan from him.

“Sorry.” You immediately released your hold, but he caught your hands again, placing them back on his head.

“Do it again.” He nearly growled, looking up at you with an expression that had your stomach and cunt clenching.

You gave another sharp tug, making his eyes fall shut as he hissed, diving back into your heat with renewed intensity, doubling the pace of his ministrations and sending you rushing head-long towards your release.

“H-hobi, I’m-” You couldn’t finish the sentence, but he understood.

“Let go Baby, make a mess on my face.” He said, feeling your muscles twitching around him as you got closer.

Your high hit you like a freight train, a choked cry leaving you as your thighs clamped down around Hobi’s head, blocking his breathing, but he couldn’t care less at that moment. He’s sole focus was on working you through your orgasm, catching every last drop of your release, not stopping till you slumped against the bed, flinching from sensitivity.

Grinning proudly, he climbed back up the bed, your essence shining on his mouth and chin.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, stroking your face.

“Mhm.” You hummed, too blissed out to think properly.

“Does that mean we can do that again sometime?” He asked with a grin.

“You can do that whenever you want.” You said, making him laugh.

“I’ll bear that in mind.” He kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. As you shifted closer, you became very aware of his hard cock pressed against your leg, stirring the heat in your lower belly again.

“Hobi.” You breathed against his lips. “Need you.”

“Already? Aren’t you tired?” He chuckled, but you shook your head, tugging him closer.

“Alright, my sweet baby.” He said, climbing off the bed to slip out his bottoms and grab a condom from the bedside drawer. You followed his movements closely, eyeing his bobbing cock with almost hungry eyes.

“You’re making me shy.” He giggled, catching your attention as he rolled the rubber down his length.

“Sorry.” You said, your cheeks heating up as you averted your eyes, feeling the mattress dip as he climbed back into the bed.

“I didn’t say you had to stop.“ He commented with a smirk, moving to hover over you as he kissed you softly. “Ready?”

“Very.” You replied, earning another chuckle from him that turned into a moan as he slipped inside you, filling you up slowly.

Your head fell back at the feeling of him stretching you out, leaving you throat exposed to Hobi to latch onto, kissing over the faint pink marks he’d left earlier as he waited for you to adjust to his length.

“Hobi.” You breathed after a moment.

“Move?”

“Please.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, pulling all the way out before plunging back into you, setting a pace that quickly turned you both into moaning messes. You wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him even deeper and helping him hit that spot that had your toes curling.

“Hobi,” You panted. “Please, ‘m close.”

“I am too, Baby, cum with me.” He groaned, slipping a hand down to circle your clit, immediately sending you over the edge, making your clench around him tightly as he pounded into you even faster.

“Fuck, that’s-, I’m cumming!” He groaned, burying his face in your neck as his hips faltered, thrusting into you once, twice more before stilling as his cocked pulsed inside you, spilling into the condom.

You ran your hands along his back as you both caught your breath, causing him to nearly doze off on top of you before pulling back to look at you dreamily.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, are you?” You asked, amused by his dazed expression.

“I’m great.” He grinned. “I could even go again, if you want?”

You laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re amazing.” He said, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Alright, we should get cleaned up. Wanna join me in the shower?”

“So long as it’s just a shower.” You gave him a look.

“I’ll behave.” He promised, pulling away and helping you up. “But I’m not responsible if you start something.”

You showered in relative silence, leaning into each other’s touch as you washed away the sweat and cum before toweling off and climbing back into bed together, feeling sleep threatening to overtake you as soon as you laid your head on his chest.

“I love you.” You mumbled drowsily.

“I love you too, my sweetheart,” His whispered reply was the last thing you heard before falling asleep in his arms. “My one and only.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan

[oddinary4bts]

Ella! Congrats on your milestone, you deserve it!

Can I request this one from the fluff list, with Hobi please?

23. “I fell for you without even knowing it and, jesus, does it hurt that you can’t see it.”

Thank you!! I really enjoyed writing this drabble, gosh I miss Hobi so much :')

Two Hundred and Nineteen Days | jhs

☆pairing: Hoseok x reader

☆rating: 13+

☆genre: slices of life!au, fluff, a tiny little bit of angst (don't ask me how it happened, angst sneaks up on me all the time)

☆warnings: a little bit of alcohol, entirely unedited

☆word count: 2.2k

☆a/n: I had an out of body experience writing this fic. I chose a random number (219) of days... only to realize the 219th day of the year is my birthday. I was shaken for a good ten minutes lmao. I hope you enjoy reading!

☆other fluff prompts can be found here!

☆☆☆☆☆

                You’ve known Jeong Hoseok for five hundred and forty-one days. It took you thirty-four days to realize he had become your closest friend at work, and since then it’s been five hundred and seven days of you and him meeting at the coffee machine every day to gossip about your other coworkers.

He’s your favourite coworker. Every day since you’ve started working at this company, you’ve sat at the desk across from him. Every day, he’s offered you a bright smile and wished you a good morning. Every day, he’s eaten lunch with you, talking about how he used to dance when he was a kid and how his mother would dress him all formal with a little red bow tie.

And two hundred and nineteen days ago, at last New Year’s Eve party, Hoseok held your hands because they were freezing while you stood outside watching the fireworks.

Two hundred and nineteen days. You think you should have understood your feelings for him since then, but you’ve been blind to it. That early March afternoon when he said his mother wanted him to go on a blind date and you’ve felt your heart breaking in your chest at the perspective of him going, you weren’t able to explain your reaction to him. You blamed it on your throat hurting, and he bought cough medicine for you that he brought at work the next day.

In late May, when you ended up being stood up by your other coworkers for your usual end of the month lunch, you think you almost realized. But when he mentioned his last date had ended well, you furrowed your brows and then asked him about it.

Halfway through the month of July, when he told you that he believed he’d be single forever, with that bright smile of his that always makes flowers grow on the soil of your heart, you whispered that you didn’t believe it. When he asked you to repeat, you said, “Don’t we all feel this way”.

Today is the 7th of August. You’re out on the annual camping trip of the company – not an actual trip, just a day on the countryside, next to a small lake where you swam in the early afternoon. And today you feel like you’ve been blind. Because he’s been in your life for five hundred and forty-one days, and you’re only now realizing that maybe, the way your heart flutters every time you see him is not because he’s a dear friend. Though you reckon the flutters started after New Year Eve only, so maybe you've only been blind for two hundred and nineteen days.

You’ve been drinking a little. Just a few glasses of rosé wine throughout the day, and you’ve watched him drink a couple of beers. Brought him one when he finished his last one without him even asking. It had your hands clammy with anxiety, but he didn’t say anything, just thanked you as you sat back next to him.

The sun has set now, and you’re lounging by the fireside. Some of your coworkers already left, and only the closest ones to you are still here. None of them know what you’ve realized today, and you’re quick to notice how Ryunjin sits close to Hoseok. How she speaks to him in ushered tones, and you think maybe, after all, your eyes opened two hundred and nineteen days too late.

He looks your way once, and when your gazes catch your heart stops in your chest. He smiles, infinitely soft, infinitely kind, and your cheeks burn. You’re lucky the firelight hides it, and you take a sip from your cup to distract you.

When Ryunjin puts her hand on his arm, telling him they should go look at the stars on the lake, you feel your heart drop so low in your chest it physically aches. To your surprise, Hoseok invites everyone, and everyone gets up to go.

It’s you that he falls into step with, even though Ryunjin is just a step in front of him.

“You’ve been silent,” Hoseok says, gently. “Where’s my gossip partner?”

You choke on a chuckle, and then worry at your bottom lip. “Sorry. I… I’ve been feeling weird.”

“Do you need to go?” Ryunjin asks, kindly, because even though you don’t like how she’s been around Hoseok, Ryunjin is nice. “I think Youngseo and Chaeryeon were talking about leaving.”

The two girls in question are up ahead, and they don’t hear Ryunjin. But you feel like she’s trying to get rid of you, and it hurts, just a little.

“I can drive you,” Hoseok suggests, and you almost stumble on your feet.

Because is it really a good idea to be encased in Hoseok’s car for the hour that the drive back is? You highly doubt so, yet you can’t find it in you to refuse. Not when Ryunjin mentions she thought Hoseok was driving her back, and Hoseok says she can always catch the ride with Youngseo and Chaeryeon.

You’re twenty minutes into the drive home, spent in an awkward silence, by the time Hoseok asks, “Are you okay?”

You can’t really tell him the truth, right?

“Yeah, I actually feel better,” you lie.

“I’m glad,” he says gently, and then you’re encased in another ten minutes of silence, only interrupted by him humming to the music on the radio. Until you realize you shouldn’t have said you’re better, because he says, “Is it just me or is Ryunjin into me?”

You freeze, and then turn to glance at his profile. “Is she? I don’t think I noticed.”

Another lie, and he obviously doesn’t catch it.

“She kept talking to me today,” he continues, and he sounds genuinely … happy.

Needless to say, it breaks your heart.

“Did she?”

“Yeah,” he says. He glances at you once, before chuckling. “That’s why I wanted to go. I’m so awkward, what would I have done for an hour with her in my car? I would have just made a fool of myself.”

All you can think to ask is, “Do you like her?”

It has no business sounding as aggressive as it does, and this time Hoseok catches up to it.

“I don’t know… Why?”

You nibble at your lower lip, anxiety flooding your entire being. “Just wondering.”

“Mmh,” he lets out, and then the atmosphere shifts.

It shifts into even more awkwardness, into Hoseok sending you weird glances that you ignore as you look out the window on the passenger side, watching the streetlights as they grow more common when you near the city.

Hoseok doesn’t hum for the rest of the way, doesn’t tap his finger on the wheel in time with the beat of the song. And when he parks his car in the office's parking lot, not turning the engine off right away, he turns to look at you.

“Why are you weird about this?”

You freeze with your hand on the doorknob. “I’m not weird.”

“You’ve been weird since I mentioned Ryunjin,” he insists.

“I haven’t.”

He throws you a no-bullshit look, one eyebrow cocked. “You usually always gossip with me and now you just haven’t said anything.”

You scoff, shooting him a quick look before finding solace in the world outside of the window again. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”             

“Your opinion?” Hoseok suggests, shrugging his shoulders. “You know Ryunjin, maybe she told you something?”

“So, you do like her?”

He’s growing frustrated. That much you can tell as he runs a hand through his hair and makes a vague move that looks like ‘how am I supposed to know’.

“Maybe? She’s attractive and she’s nice, I’d be stupid to miss the opportunity.”

“Right,” is all your able to answer.           

He watches your profile, bores hole into it, and then he turns off the engine and the doors immediately unlock. You quickly open the door and step out because frankly you need air, need to get away. Because you were stupid, not to realize before. You were stupid to not understand what those flutters in your heart were, were stupid to not understand that you didn’t like to think about him going on dates because you were falling in love with him. Had probably fallen in love with him two hundred and nineteen days ago, as he had held your freezing hands through the New Year.

He follows you out of the car. “Y/n, come on,” he says, jogging to where you’re powerwalking towards your car. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t know,” you say, scoffing. In a fit of rage, you add, “Actually I do.”

You stop, turning to look at him. His eyes are a little wide, a little scared, and his usual bright smile is miles away from his features.

“What’s wrong then?” he presses, voice small.

“I fell for you without even knowing it and, jesus, does it hurt that you can’t see it.”

Hoseok goes very still. You don’t think he’s even breathing, as you stare at each other. The silence stretches, and he doesn’t even blink. He does become blurry though, as tears slowly fill your eyes.

And when you realize that he’s not going to say anything, you turn around, shame draped on your shoulders, trickling down into your very stature as you take a first step away. And then a second, and a third one, and you think maybe tomorrow, on this two hundred and twentieth day of the year, what happened today will just be a nightmare.

It materializes into reality as one tear slips on your cheek, and you wipe it with the back of your hand angrily.

That’s when he says your name. So softly, like the flutter of an infant’s lids as they sleep. You’re not even sure you heard it – you feel it more than anything. It wraps around your heart, heals the slow unravelling.

He stops you, with one gentle hand wrapped around your wrist. His fingers are warm, light, and when he tugs to make you turn, you give in. Mostly because he has startled the tears away, and you look up at him, thinking he’s never looked at you with that much of a serious look on his face.

He murmurs your name again, and it settles in your soul, building a home for him there.

When he kisses you, supple lips meeting your awaiting mouth, you sigh, and let him pull you in. He cups your cheek with one hand, ever so gently as if he thinks you’re the most precious porcelain, and his other hand holds your waist. You rest yours on his chest, feeling the rapid tap-tap-tap of his heart under your fingertips. His organ traces a melody into your palm, strong and steady. When he pulls away from the kiss to look down at you, you think he’s shining, brightly, blindingly so. He is the sun, and maybe you’re the Earth. Maybe you’ll grow and nurture life under his warm rays.

At least that’s how you feel when he pulls you into another kiss, this one languid, slow and passionate. When his tongue teases your mouth, you meet it with your own, and immediately you know his taste will intoxicate you, in the best ways that it can.

After a long and small eternity, Hoseok pulls away again, and he offers you a sweet smile. “I fell for you so long ago,” he admits. “But you never…” he trails off, shakes his head slightly. “I never thought it was reciprocated.”

One of your hands reaches up, and you shakily trace his jaw with the tip of a finger. His skin is soft, like a rose petal, yet infinitely warmer. “I think I was oblivious to it. Until today…”

“Can I take you out on a date?” he asks, a little suddenly.

You smile. “Where do you want to take me?”

He shines even more at the sight of your smile, at the fondness tracing words of affection in your eyes. “There’s this place I go to dance sometimes. It’s bright, and they also have arcade games. It’s my favourite place, and I always thought you’d love it there.”

Your heart fills with warmth, flutters with tenderness. “I’m sure I will.”

And of course you do. Because it’s a little piece of him, and you’re realizing every day that you love every single piece of him. The good and the bad. It might have taken you two hundred and nineteen days to realize it, but you’re in love with the very tapestry of his soul, with every single thread that makes him.

A hundred and forty-six days later, Hoseok holds your freezing hands into the New Year, and this time he kisses you as the first fireworks explode into the cold night air, shining colours on you. They match the explosions in your heart that every swipe of his tongue brings to you, and you reckon that, in the six hundred and eighty-seven days of you knowing him, Hoseok has always made your heart shine.

And you know now that there are a thousand, a million more days in front of you, and that you’ll shine for him through all of them, like he shines for you.

[corollaservant]

There’s just something about lanky men. (18+)

You know, the type of man who’s scrawny, awkward and with a small ribcage (not from working out, genetics, you cuss). The one who doesn't put emphasis on his clothing, wearing whichever clean tshirt he can find, a pile of dirty clothes accumulating in his bedroom. The one who has water bottles, take out bags, cigarettes or weed papers and a nasty sink in his apartment. The one who has messy hair, tired eyes and cannot socialize for the life of him. The one who scratches his head, looks down awkwardly as he crosses his legs and sits weirdly on a chair. The type to never initiate a first move, friendship.. let’s not even talk about sex. There’s something about these men, you wouldn't call it a fetish, no, you don’t judge people by body types, that’s weird. It’s just that you notice a pattern here. Cause everytime you find these traits, you kind of guess their personality too. And maybe sometimes..you’re wrong.

They’re the same ones that will bend you in half, once they get the slightest hint you might be into them. The type to inexplicably know how to work their fingers in your little cunt, hell, you’d think they were pros in another life, the mastery in pace, roughness and multitasking is crazy here. These guys have you wet your panties like you can’t. By yourself. Alone. They kiss you while they’re at it too, don’t think they can’t do both. They kiss softly, open mouthed but desperately at the same time, kind of like they don’t want you to be able to breathe anymore. And… you can’t, but they don’t stop until you push their shoulders back, breathing through your nose isn't enough.

They’re the type to stay silent when you suck them off, concentrated and focused on your performance. They might bite their lips and hum softly, you’d think they don’t even like it even when you’re gagging down their whole length (palm included, as they’re large and girthy). Your throat aches and you haven’t even stopped the act and here they are silent and unappreciative, you might think. Well, you’re wrong. They appreciate it more than they let on. Do you know what it took for them to master this composure? Endless nights of jerking off just to the sight of your pretty pussy, cumming and cumming until they could build up some endurance. Mind you, they are talented but lack in the sexual experience department. Porn doesn’t get them off, they think it’s performative and staged, can’t get hard watching some poor woman fake moan and look at the camera, they think it’s embarrassing. No, instead they can easily picture you, with your legs spread and your pretty cunt glistening — anticipating their touch. Be it their skilled, slender fingers, their drooling mouth (yes, they drool inside) or their throbbing cock, they can’t get enough of your widened eyes and parted mouth and you can't stop silently begging just for a touch. And they cum, they aren’t too loud even when alone so imagine how much they try to stifle their moans when with you. You may have started deepthroating them, but their cock jerked the moment you ran your tongue down their shaft once, didn’t you notice it? They take it, you didn’t. They are close to cumming, they bite their tongue and can feel the metallic taste of blood their sinking teeth left, shit, they wouldn’t be able to taste you properly later on; they think and cuss instead of thinking the trouble they'll have swallowing down food. 

They quietly push you off, they really want to cum but these men are selfless. They don’t want to put anyone's pleasure above yours so they throw you on the bed. That’s where you were wrong too. You see them, a skeleton in clothes and think ‘’damn, this guy really is a loser’’..well, if he is, then he certainly is a strong one, these dudes have muscles you can’t even see and the rage that fuels them, makes up for it. They want to lick up a strip from your hole trickling down your left thigh, shit, they're so tempted, they might come on the mattress for all they care but their cock throbs when you ask them to fuck you instead.. if that's what you want, who are they to say no?

Their lanky chest presses against you, you can feel the pressure from their protruding bones on your skin, as they sigh, their sticky slit coming in contact with your also wet (soaked) entrance. They might just sigh but their brain is fighting a hard battle right now, to not cum just by the friction and the mess of fluids. Once you beg repeatedly (‘’please—baby, please!’’) and they can’t take it anymore, they awkwardly push the length past your folds, it slams in you violently as their sternum clashes onto you. You moan, it feels heavenly, a remarkable girth that stuffs you to the brim. They don't bottom out yet, you think fuck it, there's more? Oh sure, there is. They will shyly push more in, inch after inch, these men are NOT talkative but will make sure you are ok for good measure, wouldn't want you fainting or in pain due to their stupid cock. Little do they know, you want more and fast, but that's ok, whatever you order, they deliver. You can't tell, if they do it with skill or instinct but the thrusts are calculated and timed and they bring you close to an intense orgasm, they know it — they are observers, noticing the type and volume of moans that exit your mouth each time, that is why a slender pad of their finger is brought against your clit. They know how to hover and tilt their hips inside you simultaneously as they tease you. ‘’B–baby, oh my god.. please’’ you mewl, you shut your eyes and they’re close too. You just squeeze too damn much, whether you know it or not (they never tell you that they'd sell their soul to feel like this every day). Soon enough you're cumming, screaming loudly, only.. it's real with you, your body can’t lie and so can’t your eyes, glossy and ready to spill teardrops. These men will not be vocal (or at least they'll try not to be) but this is their breaking point, it's too much — you're too much and they finally whimper, not loud but just enough for you to hear as they let a big load inside you. They’re a deprived and awkward mess, that doesn't believe you would even bat them an eye, when you met them. Well, maybe it's their time to re-evaluate you.

—

(wrote this with surprise surprise.. Shiggy in mind but it suits others too)

L, Mello my man, black hair Dabi, Aizawa, Fyodor, Aku, literally anyone from Nana cast, who’s not a child and please! let me add Hobie Brown.

[keisobe]

── ⋆˙⟡♡ 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 (𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚)

from spider-man : across the spiderverse (spoiler free!!)

characters. miles morales. miguel o’hara. hobie brown & peter b. parker. + pavitr prabhakar

notes. i quickly wrote this because spiderverse has consumed a lot of my attention (cue the tiktok edits i’ve saved of hobie and miguel). anyways hope i did the characterization accurate enough and hope it was fun to read ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) + not completely proofread

𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 ❤︎

he’s painfully awkward when it comes to hugging. his limbs don’t know where to wrap around, so they keep flaring everywhere until you end up locking him into one solid hug.

miles is also very respectful of your boundaries, he would do that weird hover hand thing over your waist that would look very off in photos (his hand literally 3 inches away from your shoulder, but a good photo overall).

but when he’s close to you, he would pull you into a protective and warm embrace— especially if he has been worried sick about you. that’s until he pulls away and let’s out a chuckle accompanied with a light scratch on the back of his neck to ease his worries.

“umm… wait— lemme just…”

miles’ arms were bending awkwardly and moving in lightning speed, a nervous smile plastered onto his conflicted features— twitching brows and all.

you huffed at his failed attempt to simply embrace you, so you forcefully hooked your arms around his neck and brought him closer, feeling the softness of his cheek against your forehead and the pacing heartbeat you didn’t know he had.

“it’s fine, it’s just me silly.” you teased into his ear, prompting miles to chuckle at his own awkwardness and to wrap his strong arms around your waist.

“right, it’s you.” he whispered more to himself, leaning down to reach your height and to cutely rest his head in the nape of your neck. “just you.”

𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 ❤︎

hasn’t been held in so long. he says that he doesn’t do hugs, will probably go into flight-and-fight mode if you even asked for a small embrace. if you’re lucky though, he’ll leave you with a deadly glare and an annoyed huff.

but in the heat of the moment, in the moments of needed comfort, he will be there to give you an embrace. although, his hugs are tight, to the point you have a hard time breathing. it’ll take him a moment to notice that you’re literally breathless and will cough a lousy sorry as compensation for squeezing you to death (but he actually feels bad).

what nobody knows (maybe expect you) is that he prefers hugs that can display his strength. lifting you off from the ground with ease makes him smirk to himself. surprise hugs from the back also avoids the awkwardness of confronting actual romantic contact (it’s also more fun for him).

“what now?” miguel folds his arms impatiently as he watches you dumbly spread your arms out, a determined glint in your eyes.

no response, you simply spread your arms wider. miguel huffs an annoyed laugh and awkwardly comes up to you to embrace you, with a tightness that made you choke for air. then he suddenly lifts you from the floor, making you latch tightly around his neck.

miguel sighs deeply, the irritation that emitted from him suddenly became comfortably warm.

“did you need this hug?” you managed to breathe out, threading your fingers through the loose brown hair in the back of his neck.

“yeah, i really needed it.” miguel mumbles out in embarrassment, tightening his muscular arms around your waist— prompting a weak yet satisfied wheeze from your lips.

𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 ❤︎

he’s chill with hugs, but he’s very friendly about it. likes to latch an arm on his mates and such— but an immediate sweet embrace you won’t really get (he’s good at reading people, so if you’re vibes are off, he ain’t moving an inch).

he generally prefers to give side hugs, nothing too personal and definitely fits his overall demeanor. match that up with a firm compliment and a friendly pat on the shoulder. but if he’s close to you, he’ll be there patiently with open arms.

then he’s analyzing you closely as you embrace him, listening closely for a change in your heartbeat or any small noise that escapes your mouth. he subtly smells you too and will not forget your scent (will use the same detergent as you right after the embrace). there’s a moment of silence and it’s perfectly comfortable.

“c’mere.” hobie faintly whispers with an expanded arm, his expression unusually soft.

immediately you ran to receive an embrace from his slim body, a wet sniffle muffled into his webbed suit as tears began to pour from your eyes. hobie hovers a calloused hand over your back, thinking for a moment, until he decides that it was fine to do so. he pats the small of your back comfortably, murmuring a song he wrote to soothe your sadness.

“thank you hobie.” you hiccuped, leaning onto his chest. hobie simply nodded, playing with the ends of your hair with a painted finger.

“yea...” he mumbled, noticing that the tears that stained your cheeks before faded and your breathing steadied. “no probs.”

𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛. 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 ❤︎

he’s painfully awkward too. pull him into an embrace, he will let out an uncomfortable chuckle as he carefully pries you off his body. peter makes it obvious he wants his space, rightfully so.

actually, head pats is something he prefers to give. it’s comforting for him to be able to teasingly mess your hair to get a whine from you, or feel the texture of your hair under his palms. also, he’s an old man (will feel extremely insulted if you say his comforting technique is equivalent to that of an elderly folk).

but if he’s close with you or there is a moment when an embrace is desperately needed, he wouldn’t hesitate to pull you into a deep embrace. due to his new plushness to his body and rarity of his soft affection, peter’s embraces feel warm and inviting. sorry though, it’ll only last a few seconds until he’s pulling away immediately (will give up if you pull him back into the embrace tho).

“there, there kiddo…” peter softly pats your head, poorly attempting to cool your temper.

“not working peter.”

peter sighs in defeat as he slowly retracted his hand, thinking of a solution to cheer you up. without a second thought, he quickly pulled you into an embrace with efficient strength— the softness of his stomach contrasted the hardness of his chest. immediately you light up, nuzzling into his warm arms as he playfully swayed your body side-to-side.

“better?” he chuckled at your dazed expression, maybe hugging wasn’t so bad.

“yeah…” you could hear the slow patters of his heartbeat as he tightened the protective hold around your waist.

MOCHIFILM © 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

[hobies-gf]

imagine hobie really liking how he towers over you. loves the way you have to crane your neck just to meet him eye to eye. loves the way you have to look up at him.

he’s obsessed actually, cuz even though the both of you are sitting on the couch sharing a joint, you still have to look up at him. it triggers something inside him he isnt familiar with but he wouldnt mind playing around with it.

he can usually keep it under wraps, especially since the both of you are just friends but this day he really couldnt keep it in.

youre there sitting in front of him, looking at him with those big eyes, a small please? leaving your lips as you beg for another hit and he loses it. he corners you on the couch, his hands on either side of your head and hes incredibly hunched over just to meet you eye to eye and it turns him on.

“y’don’t know whatcha do to me huh sweetheart?” his voice is low and quiet, and you feel his breath fanning your cheek, and all you can do is shake your head curiously.

next thing you know it Hobie has you in a mating press and hes fucking into you almost desperately, relishing in the way his one hand can cover your whole chest, pressing down just to feel his big cock all the way up your little tummy.

“Fuck doll, look at you so fucking tiny” “takin’ this cock so well” “thought you said it wouldn’ fit huh?” “fuckin’ take it all f’me yeah?”

[bruisedboys]

looking after hobie brown with a split lip and an almost black eye and he won’t stop touching you. it’s extremely distracting and you’d tell him so but you’d hate to see the look on his face when you admit he’s flustering you. so you let him be and scrub at the stream of blood trailing from his lip to his chin. you shuffle up his lap (yeah, you’re in his lap, and what about it? he was the one who put you here. he hadn’t given you much of a choice. insisted it was easier to reach and pulled you into him before you could protest) to get a better angle and his fingers press harder into your hips, his grip on you tightening as he tugs you up his lap, somewhat helpfully. you try to ignore the way it makes you feel. the way you’re now practically chest to chest and he can probably hear your heartbeat, it’s so damn loud.

and then, the very tips of his fingers dip underneath the hem of your shirt and brush your warm skin, and you decide you just can’t take it anymore.

“hobie,” you chide, soft and entirely too flustered.

“what?” he says back, dripping with ignorance, and you’d think he was genuinely clueless if you didn’t know him so well. he pushes his hand further up your back, his rough calloused fingers practically burning a mark on your already hot skin.

“quit it”, you say, though you don’t sound very convincing at all.

“quit what, babe?” hobie presses his palm to the small of your back, forcing you ever so closer. you gasp, pressed up against him, your hands braced on his shoulders, but he only smirks knowingly. “m’only helping you out.”

[strwberrybils]

hiiiii can i pls request something where the reader accidentally sends hobie her lingerie pics? or her bikini pics? look at claudia tihan’s instagram pics for what i’m saying. thank you <33

OOPS, WRONG PERSON! | h. brown.

“no…doesn’t look right.” you sucked your teeth with a frown, picking apart the images you just took of yourself, clicking delete hastily with a sigh. you wanted to like the photo, but the way you were posing wasn’t really to your liking, and you were trying hard to feel confident in the brand new lingerie you had just bought.

you had went out with your girlfriends, browsing throughout the mall as you blew your recent paycheck on clothes and makeup, your knowledge of the repercussions being ignored as you swiftly swiped your card for whatever items your heart desired. it was ecstasy to you, buying things that you actually liked, and you were really starting to crack out of your comfort zone when you found a beautiful lingerie set from victoria’s secret. it was accented with pretty white trimmings, little pink ribbons on the top, the panties silky and comfortable. you purchased the set with no regrets, walking out of that mall with a dirty smile wiped on your face.

posing in front of the mirror now was your biggest challenge. every way your body turned didn’t seem to look right to you, and your frustration started to grow inside of you until an idea sparked in your head.

you dropped to your calves and sat back onto your thighs, hips twisting to the left slightly as you flipped your hair to the side, pouted into the mirror and clicking the photo button.

the picture came out adorable, so you decided to press send to one of your girlfriends so they could see how it looked on you, and that’s when your eyes widened.

sent to my brit boyfriend 🤍.

you gasped, rapidly clicking the message in an attempt to delete it.

you and your lovely boyfriend had only been together a month. it wasn’t that you weren’t comfortable with him seeing you like this, but it was all so soon, and it wasn’t even on purpose. but it was too late, your frantic tapping was deemed useless when you saw that he had read the message, and now he was typing.

he quickly typed back, and your eyes gleamed with embarrassment as you texted him.

my brit boyfriend 🤍; Love, did you mean to send that to me?

you: i’m so sorry hobie….i didn’t mean to send you that, i was trying to send it to one of my girlfriends. you can ignore it.

my brit boyfriend 🤍; You want me to ignore it? I’ll delete it if you didn’t want me to see it, it’s no problem darlin

you: no no, you can keep it if you like it…i don’t mind…i just didn’t mean to send it ugh this is embarrassing

my brit boyfriend 🤍; You look gorgeous..wasn’t gonna say nothin because I didn’t know if you wanted me to, but you look good as shit

you: ☺️ are you serious?? i just bought it & and i didn’t know if it looked nice…

my brit boyfriend 🤍; Thinkin’ it’ll look better on the floor but that’s jus my opinion

you: HOBIE.

my brit boyfriend 🤍; You asked for my opinion and I gave it to ya love, is there a problem?

you: no problem handsome… come over?

my brit boyfriend 🤍; On my way.

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

Sitting on HOBIE BROWN's lap, facing him, while he’s pawing your hips. The force behind them shifting you marginally back and forth. An invisible pull exists between the two of you, a magnetism you can’t deny. Your dampened panties gliding over the raise in his jeans.

“Can feel your heartbeat.” he informs you, a little too pridefully for your tastes. Dark eyes glancing from your seat on his crotch to meet your own gaze. It’s as if he’s gloating his power over you, his surreal physical affect on you.

It didn’t occur to you that your heartbeat is something he’d care to listen in on— didn’t realize it’s within his capabilities. Does that mean he’s heard how it pounds in your chest every time he looks at you? “What? Like, with your spider sense?” Now that he mentions it, your entire body feels the rippling affect of your blood pumping, rushing to where your bodies connect. Nerves combusting at the sight of him sizing you up.

Hobie’s taunting and maddening smile widens, biting down onto his glinting silver piercing to stifle his own excitement. He shakes his head. “Nope.”

[liseytopia]

i know the spider-verse hype is over but hear me out ..

another visit at your boyfriend's apartment meant another cleaning day for you and him, which obviously resulted in a helpless, whining hobie on the bed.

"babe, it's not even that hard. you just have to throw some shirts in a washing machine and press a few buttons," you laughed, shaking your head as you stared at hobie from the doorway of his bedroom after you'd designated him a small task to start. he was lying face down on his bed, groaning.

without lifting his head from the mattress adorned with misplaced and rumpled blankets and pillows, he replied, "still don' wanna."

hobie was never one for keeping his place clean. he was great at nearly everything else—he had surprisingly good hygiene, a charming personality and a pretty face, but cleaning.. wasn't his specialty. he wasn't trying to live like a slump, but sometimes he couldn't help it. fighting crime and dismantling systems of oppression didn't leave a whole lot of time or energy for something as minimal as cleaning a room—or at least, according to his protests.

you sighed, swiveling around to his in-unit mini laundry room, picking up a laundry basket, and walking back into hobie's bedroom. you began throwing various clothes lying about the room into the basket.

apparently he heard you cleaning up after him, and finally rotated his head off the bed, studying you picking up his clothes. "you don't have to do all 'tis," he murmured as you slowly deconstructed the pile of clothing.

"yeah, but you won't, so i will," you replied firmly, not making eye contact.

"awww, c'mon, love.. you don't gotta be like that," he drawled, rolling off the edge of the bed and standing up toward you. he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, the tall boy's head on top of yours. your stomach fluttered at the contact, his arms acting as a restraint to keep you from moving. it was obvious he had some sort of plan with this.

you whined in defeat, "hobie.."

"hm? what's that?" you heard him hum against your head, trying to act innocent. the rumble of his deep voice was sending vibrations throughout your body. "'m just tryna help."

"shut up, no you aren't," you grumbled, though your attempts at sounding annoyed only failed when you accidentally let a giggle slip out.

hobie hummed again. "see, i knew ya loved me," he smiled as he dragged you a couple feet back down to his bed. you collapsed on top of him on the mattress, the laundry basket and pile of clothes both long forgotten on floor.

you wrapped your arms up around his neck once he sat up, scooting back against the wall with you in his lap. he leaned forward to kiss you, his large hands holding you in place by your waist. you returned the kiss gently and slowly, resting your head down on his shoulder when you were finished.

"i take it we ain't cleanin' today?" he questioned, a smile persistent on his lips as he gazed down at your body lazily attached to his.

you shook your head in response, your eyes closed and your face still buried in his neck. that was all the indication he needed to know you were convinced. hobie would live in that messy apartment for as long as he could.

⊹₊⟡⋆

[pinksugarscrub]

Love Language

Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Just imagine Hobie who’s love language seems to be actions/gifts and a r with words of affirmation?

Word count: 182

Warning(s): none

~

Pet names aren’t really something Hobie thinks of on a daily basis. The most common endearment he’ll use is love and he feels that’s enough to fully convey how he feels about you. Even that took a bit of time.

It’s not like Hobie doesn’t absolutely adore you. It’s just that he’s always lived by the idea that actions speak louder than words. Though now that your relationship is blossoming he’s finding it hard not to feel overwhelmed.

Yeah he knew you were a bit of a chatterbox but how many more times are you going to shower him in kisses while telling him he’s the epitome of gorgeous? His heart can’t take much more!

“Lovie-” Hobie mumbles. Cheeks hot as he feels your lips press again and again to his cheek.

“Yeah?” You answer innocently. Moving your face away to admire him with that soft look you can never seem to hide. Miles is apparently always on the verge of hurling everytime he sees you. Honestly, you think he’s just jealous.

“Hold on- have I ever told you how pretty you look?”

Hobie groans as his face grows darker.

[purplifield]

‘S too big!!

You say when all he got in was first two inches. He chuckles looking at your fucked out face: lips fallen apart, eyes dazed and unfocused, cheeks flushed.

“Oh you can definitely take it, ya lil slut” he teases in your ear. Your wrists are above your head, held down by his one hand. So you can’t do anything than arch your back, while his other hands roams around your body.

You let out such loud whimper, when you feel him slide in further. Your head gets fizzy. “Slow down, please” only to understand, he was slow, you just had to handle it. He seemed to stop, and it have you hope “You’re all in?”

“Just a lil more, my girl” you open your eyes, only to see his expression change out of nowhere “I can make it faster” He chuckles.

You fail to say something, all you can do is scream out his name, since he thought it would be a good idea to just snap his hips forward and push rest of cock in your pussy.

“It’s too big it’s too big!” He mocked “and you took it all in”

Schlatt; Hobie Brown; earth8 Miles Morales; George Not Found; Sapnap; Foolish gamers; Bakugou… and your irl crush;)

[keisobe]

✮. ⋆ 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 (𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧) ⋮ slightly suggestive. not-so-accurate accent for hobie. not completely proofread.

hobie tended to be touchy, not in a bad way though. that’s how he displayed his affection after all, his loyalty. whether it be draping his slender arms over the shoulders of pav and miles, or even giving a playful nudges towards gwen whenever miguel gave his weekly lectures about absolute order and his canonical philosophy (total “control freak”, hobie adds).

his physical affection ends with him coming up behind you and caressing a spindly finger over your hips. his lip piercing grazing the back of your neck— cold yet familiar.

“finally foun’ you darlin’.”

or when you’re itching for his warm touch, you simply rest your hands and head onto his knees as you sit prettily onto the carpeted floor— completely halting his tapping leg and eyeing you with curiosity.

“wha’ is it lovely?” his voice sounded silky and it rumbled deep into his chest, like a purr.

the only response you give him is simply tracing a light touch onto his open palm, following the crevices of his rough skin. hobie only smiles, he knew you too well.

“did you miss my touch tha’ badly?”

he slowly reached over towards your cheek, playfully patting the plushness of your skin, making you whine. hobie chuckles at your neediness before brushing a handful of your soft cheeks— a hushed curse slipping through his lips as he witnessed an unholy sight.

you, on your knees, leaning into his touch, your eyes never leaving his. it was driving him crazy, to the point his palms started to tingle.

what really drives him nuts is when you teasingly deny his touches. hobie has been used to you begging for his touch, his affection, but denying his advances catches him by surprise.

“wait wha…?” his words are slurred in confusion when you swatted his lingering hand away from your waist, not even sparing him a glance.

“not today love, gotta catch some anomalies.” you adjusted the watch firmly onto your wrist, pressing colored buttons that projected your target— reeking havoc as it sprinted around a dimension that’s foreign to them.

hobie kept his cool as he spun in front of you. “not even a lil’ kiss?”

a hexagon portal ejected from the settings of your spider watch, illuminating orange light onto your features that made hobie ache for you even more.

“not even a little kiss.” you stuck your tongue with a sly smile, walking into the portal with a sway to your hips. “but i’ll see you at dinner!”

before hobie can even reply, your body was engulfed by the closing portal— leaving him utterly speechless and edged in the bleak darkness. he shakes his head with a crooked smile, tucking his tingling palms into the pockets of his leather vest as he strutted back into his own dimension.

though hobie hated to admit it, his touchiness was also his biggest weakness.

MOCHIFILM © 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

[messylustt]

dazed but not by the blood — hobie brown. longer name. cleaning hobie’s wounds and he can’t stop touching you.

he would have climbed through your window, his face littered with small cuts, a more prominent indent running through his eyebrow. you wouldn’t hear him at first, your head nodding along to the beat of a song, blasting through your headphones. breathing a fraction heavy, hobie would notice you, legs up and bent to your body, in a wooden chair. your fingers would tap away at your computer as you softly hummed.

he would step closer, a small side smile edging his lips as he leaned closer to your covered ear. moving your headphones aside he’d whisper. “i hope that’s not that monkey band you’re listening to.” your eyes would widen as your heart would drop to your stomach in fright, swiftly spinning in the chair to face a smug looking hobie.

but your words of scolding would die off upon seeing his facial injuries. your hand would reach out, gently touching a cut making him slightly wince. “hold on.” you’d whisper, getting up off your chair as you rushed to a cupboard, retrieving a small first aid kit. you tilt your head behind you, gesturing to the couch, as you take out alcohol wipes and plasters. hobie would understand, jumping slightly down onto the couch, as his legs spread comfortably.

his head would rest back, as he’d shut his eyes for a moment. but when you’d shift closer, kneeling in front of hobie and gently grabbing his face, his eye would open. at first he’d stare at your face, taking note of all the little details he’d always thought suited you so well. you wouldn’t notice his gaze at first, focusing on a cut by his cheek as you’d dab and wipe, teeth biting down on your bottom lip. at this hobie’s gaze would dart down, his eyes taking note of the redder colour you created by your bite.

when you’d tilt your head, hobie’s gaze would follow. catching sight of your tied up hair, strands falling out randomly. “ya hair looks nice tonigh’, babe.” he’d teasingly smile, his hand subtly reaching up to touch a loose lock. you shake your head, thinking his teasing is the truth. but he meant it. you did look really good, pretty in a way that made hobie’s finger tap at his leg.

“real pretty.” you were used to his almost ‘flirty’ words. he’d always acted like this. you had thought that it’s just his personality, when in actual fact every word he had said was every bit true, to the point that his hand — right now — started to shift from rubbing your hair between the pads of his slightly calloused fingers, all the way to your neck.

he’d just lightly tap your skin, feeling your pulse beating. in all honesty you hoped he couldn’t feel it quicken. you began to shift to the deeper cut on his eyebrow. “you know, you could make this into a feature.” you say, trying to distract your mind from hobie’s wandering fingers. they had begun to draw patterns along your bare collarbone, making a small shiver run up your spine.

“hobie?”

“yeah, luv?” but his tone sounds distant, his gaze focused on the top of your chest, your skin now beginning to litter with goosebumps. you gulp, finally moving to the last cut — one that dragged down his lip. you had to shuffle closer. and as you did, hobie’s thighs widened, leaving you room to kneel between his legs.

your hand held his chin, directing his face how you needed as you dabbed his cut lip. “stop smiling. I can’t touch you up when you do that.” you say. but then you feel two large hands languidly slip around your waist, making it unintentionally arch. his cold rings dragged across your skin, making your breathing hitch. hobie noticed the sound, now purposefully slipping his hands under your shirt to slowly rub along your lower back.

“hobie.” you say, a slight warning to your tone. what was he doing? “shh, keep working.” he said. he leant further back, partially bringing you with him, as you had to lean a fraction over his body to reach his cut lip. “i don’t have to help.” you muttered, seeing hobie’s amused expression.

his hands had moved so that they slid inside your back jeans pockets. he wasn’t moving, having found the position — with you nearly draped over him — rather comfortable. “hobie.” you feel like you’ve said his name too many times, but it’s hard for you to touch him up like this. he tilted his head. “mm…so…pretty.”

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[cyberstrm]

spiderpeople + how affectionate they are

cws: none!

spider punk is allegedly 17ish so i included him,, age him up if you need to !! didn't include miles, gwen and pavitr because 15/16 is too young for my comfort

HOBIE is privately super affectionate. likes to leave you lil post-it note notes and doodles. sends sappy texts. makes you playlists and writes songs about you. writes your name on his guitar and probably somewhere on his suit. keeps everything you give him. not a huge pda guy because he's too busy being punk, but a huge softy and cuddler when you're alone. more of an actions>words guy. probable height different makes kisses so much more fun.

MIGUEL is bad at being affectionate and getting attached at first. he learns quickly that it's something you need, and gets better at it. very gentle with you, doesn't want to hurt you. loves to pin you against a wall and kiss you. uses his size to his advantage; loves to carry you. loves to hold you, to protect you, to make you feel safe. whispers soft nothings to you to make you feel as loved as you truly are.

PETER B is the most affectionate man ever. sends sappy good morning texts. brings you breakfast in bed. takes care of you. big into PDA, hand holding, kissing, all of that. buys you flowers. plays with your hair. lets you decide what to watch on tv. biggest big spoon. house husband who helps out with the chores. big into forehead kisses and a hand at your lower back. takes you out to dinner. never forgets a special occasion.

[yumeaoka-chan]

Accusations! False accusations!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Reader/ Spider Punk x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: fluff, confused Hobie, offended Hobie, loser! Hobie, lovesick hobie, confused Miles, confused R (everyone's confused, but it's okay), title from that Rick Ross meme, R is AFAB, no physical description of R, cursing, sparse use of y/n (just once)

Summary: Hobie learns he has a whole reputation that he doesn't even recall gaining. 

A/N: A little drabble based off the ask that 😅 anon sent to @the-kr8tor . Loser! Hobie is my new religion😇💕💕

Furrowing his eyebrows and moving his cup from his lips, Hobie gazes at the younger Spider with growing concern. He scratches behind his ear, fingers fiddling with his piercings. He'd heard that wrong, right? Surely he had, because there was no way Miles had really come over for advice on girls. When the younger had asked to come over to his dimension yesterday, he'd thought that he just wanted to hang out. Maybe jam to some music while they ordered a pizza or something. Not… this.

“Stop looking at me like I'm crazy”, Miles huffs as he leans back against his chair, frowning at the confused look on the elder's face. ”I came to you for advice because you're the only one of us who's been around.”

“Wha’ are you talkin’ ‘bout? Been ‘round where?” The younger chuckles and shakes his head, as if Hobie has just told him some funny joke.

“Bro, stop playin’. I already know everything.” Hobie blinks at him, eyebrow raised in question. Or confusion. Definitely confusion. Miles narrows his eyes and waves his hand in the air.

“Come on, man. You know what I mean.” Hobie just stares at him, clearly waiting for an explanation. He has not the faintest idea about what the younger Spider is talking about.

“You know! How you've messed around with every type of girl before you settled down with Y/N! You've been around, man, so you must know how to get a girl's attention.”

“...HUH?!” Hobie's jaw drops open in shock of Miles' words, eyebrows raised so high that they practically reach his hairline. Because, why would the younger think that of him? Hobie just gapes at him in astonishment, little noises of disbelief leaving his lips as he tries to come to terms with the conception of him that Miles has in his head.

“Um… You alright, man? Hello…?”, Miles mumbles as he waves a hand across the punk's stunned face. Shaking his head, Hobie places his hands on his chest as though he'd been offended.

“W-Why would you think that?! Who told you that”, he questions, voice cracking and growing a bit higher in pitch with how flabbergasted he was. Miles blinks at the man before letting out an awkward chuckle, raising up a hand in a placating manner.

“What's with the surprised look? Everyone at the Society says you used to be a player.”

“I was not! ‘M very much a mess! I have no game!” And it's the truth. Hobie has always been unsuccessful in romance ever since he first discovered that he could have romantic feelings for others, way back in secondary school when he was a year eight. Any time he did harbor feelings for someone, he'd always become a stuttering mess who could only talk to his crush in the form of song lyrics. Not even good songs, at that. It's safe to say that he was the weird kid that absolutely nobody wanted to have him have a crush on them. As if him having a crush meant he was giving them cooties. Kids could be so mean.

“If you have no game, then how did you bag your girlfriend?” Miles asks curiously, munching on his fries while he watches Hobie nervously fiddle with the ring on his finger. It matched the one that you wore, silver glinting in the light. Hobie scoffs and shakes his head.

“Beats me. ‘M just a sad sod who told her fun facts about her favorite singer when we first met. I guess she liked how I was sweatin’ bullets or somethin’, cause ‘ere I am.” That makes the younger of the two pause, eyebrows twisting up and eyes squinting slightly like he can't believe what he just heard. Which Hobie finds odd because it's nothing but the truth.

The day you two met, Hobie had bumped into you on the street. It wasn't his first time seeing you walk down this particular street, but it had been his first time ever accidently making you fall on your ass with your Walkman clattering onto the pavement. The cassette tape had fell out and when Hobie went to help you up and pick up your stuff, he'd seen the artist you were listening to. And, of course, with him being the music loving nerd he was, he couldn't help the facts from spilling from his trembling lips. Sweat beading at his forehead and warmth rushing to the tips of his ears at the sweet smile you'd bestowed him with. And when you slipped your number into his clammy palm, he'd swore his knees went weak. He had very much been and still was a goner when it came to you.

“So… What you're telling me is that you have absolutely zero advice for getting a girl's attention?”

“None whatsoever. Can't believe some bloke actually thought I get girls… Lovie's the only one f'me.”

The sound of the door to the houseboat opening makes him whip his head over, heart beating wildly in his chest at the sight of you. With a sigh, you place your grocery bags down on the counter before letting out a small yelp at suddenly being pulled into a tight embrace. A chuckle leaves your lips as you pat Hobie's back, warmth blossoming in your chest as he rains kisses on your face.

“I was only gone for a little bit, Hobes. Are you that happy to see me?” You hum as you lean back to peer up at him, melting at the adoration shining in his pretty brown eyes. He gives you that dopey, lopsided grin that you love so much before brushing his lips against yours in a featherlight kiss.

“Course I am. ‘M always happy to see you, lovie”, he mumbles softly against your lips, ears flushing just a bit. Always so whipped for you and only you. You smile as you lean in to kiss him again, only to break away at the sound of Miles chuckling. You raise an eyebrow at him as you peer over Hobie's shoulder, not expecting the young Spider to be here.

“Hey, Miles. How have you been?” You greet him as you pull away from your boyfriend's embrace, the punk pouting at the lack of attention. He wraps his arms around you from behind and rests his chin on your shoulder.

“I've been doing good. Just came over to talk a bit with Hobie”, the younger says as he gets up from his chair, a hint of mirth in his eyes as he looks on at how Hobie clings to you. “The rumors really were wrong, then.”

“Rumors? What rumors?” You turn your head to look at Hobie for an explanation, but he just shakes his head.

“Stupid stuff, sweetheart. Don't worry ‘bout it.” Clicking your tongue at his words, you look over to Miles. The kid shrugs and stuffs his hands in his hoodie, claiming that he has to go back home to finish up some homework. After seeing Miles off, you turn to face Hobie, his arms still wrapped around you. His eyes sparkle as he gazes down at you, like you hung the very stars or was the cause of a sunny day. Placing another sweet kiss on his lips, you smile at the feeling of him practically turning to mush against you. It wasn't like you couldn't get the full story about the rumors from your boyfriend later. For now, you were content to give him all the smooches he deserved.

[bruisedboys]

thinking about hobie brown catching you staring at him … and then just being an absolute menace about it …..

he’s doing something so ordinary, just sitting on the couch, long legs spread in front of him (he manspreads all the time change my mind!!), watching some band play on tv while his fingers tap out the rhythm of the song on his thighs. you’re sitting across the room, supposedly watching tv too, but hobie can feel your eyes on him like two laser beams burning into the side of his head. he keeps his face neutral so you don’t know you’ve been caught until he pipes up,

“do I got somethin’ on my face, doll?” without pulling his eyes away from the tv.

he can sense your embarrassment from all the way across the room. from the corner of his eye he sees you whip your head round to face the tv as if you weren’t just ogling at him shamelessly. he guesses if he was to touch your face right now you’d be hot as a furnace.

“no,” you say weakly, guilty.

hobie laughs, a low teasing chuckle that he knows makes you flustered beyond measure. “really? ‘cos you’re lookin’ at me like’ve grown two heads.”

you stay silent and hobie finally pulls his eyes away from the tv to look at you. he’s rewarded with a very shy-looking you, sitting there with your hands all muddled in your lap and your eyes zeroed in on a patch of floorboard.

hobie grins. “c’mere, babe.”

you look up at him (finally), confused. “what?”

hobie knows you heard him just fine but says it again anyway. “c’mere,” he prompts, patting his thigh. “wanna talk to ya.”

you obey, maybe because you’re really bad at saying no to him. and anyway, hobie can’t talk, he never says no to you, either. you get up and cross the room sheepishly, stopping much too far away from his knees for his liking.

“closer,” he murmurs, lifting his torso off the couch cushions to reach forwards and take you by the hips, pulling you closer so you’re standing in between his legs.

hobie keeps his hands on your hips while you stare at a rip in his jeans and don’t say a word. hobie doesn’t mind. at least now you’re close enough he can see your pretty face clearly.

he sits up straight, almost eye height with you now, even though you’re standing and he’s sitting. he removes his hands from your hips in favour of your face, palms cupping your cheeks. he drags his thumbs under your eyes, your skin soft under his guitar-induced callouses.

“you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, cos you are, and he wants you to know he’d stare at you for hours if he thought you could take the attention.

you make an embarrassed sort of noise that makes hobie laugh. you’re adorable. he needs you closer immediately.

without giving you any warning he hooks one hand underneath your thigh and pulls. you fall not so gracefully into his lap, your weight pressed against him, almost chest to chest. you squeal at the sudden change in position. hobie just smiles, satisfied.

“hobie!” you gasp.

hobie ignores your scolding, if you can even call it that.

“that’s better,” he says, using one ringed finger to trace your jaw. he ends at your chin and hooks his finger under it to get you to look him in the eye. you’ve visibly melted under his touch, your body lax on top of his, eyelids fluttering, and it’s so lovely hobie almost regrets what he says next. “now, you wanna tell me why you were starin’ so hard, love?”

you groan and drop your forehead to his shoulder, hands gripping his waist for dear life as if that will save you from his teasing. it won’t. but hobie knows you don’t really mind it as much as you let on.