#spiderpunk atsv

[beatificwrites]

HIDDEN WANTS ★

pairing: hobie brown x gn!spider!reader

content: gender-neutral reader, no use of y/n

premise: you and hobie are completely unaware of the undeniable tension between you two and the feelings you carry for one another

It was yet another ordinary day at the spider society which consisted of: small breakfast with your spidey friends, taking care of anomalies, possibly being lectured by miguel for being too reckless, lunch with spidey friends, and sometimes more anomalies to take care of afterwards or none at all.

You took out a box of frozen pizza from the fridge and got a plastic plate from the cupboard above it. You were in the food lounge, as everyone liked to call it—the place had no official name though, it was just a room where food was kept if you didn’t want cafeteria food. You threw the cold slices in the microwave and set it for 3 minutes.

You were preparing yours and Hobie’s lunch for the day. He never brings his own lunch and just steals from your plate, so recently you started bringing enough for the two of you to eat.

You sensed a presence behind you, trying to go unnoticed and instantly knew it was him.

“You know that I know you’re there, right?” you crossed your arms, and asked matter of factly.

“Yeh, just tryna see if your senses are back in check, dat’s all.” he teased.

He’s referring to last week when your senses seemed off because you didn’t notice the huge boulder being thrown your way. Hobie had to save you last minute and now he will never live it down, he loves annoying you.

You rolled your eyes and groaned, “just shut up already! It was one time, for crying out loud!”

He chuckled and moved up to stand beside you as you watched the pizza slices slowly spin behind the glass. He was awfully close, and that fact conjured a bit of nervousness with a hint excitement. You don’t exactly know why you always felt the latter whenever he was near, therefore you always write it off as being happy that a friend was in your company.

The aggressive beeping coming from the microwave pulled you out of your thoughts and you quickly took out the steaming slices, then handed the plate over to Hobie, knowing he would want the first bite. Your friendship has reached a point where one usually knows what the other wants.

Hobie smiled then gladly took that first bite while you shook your head jokingly. You both walked out of the lounge and through the halls filled with spideys all over the place. Hobie’s arm was now casually hanging over your shoulder as he chomped away at his slice with his other hand. You were now holding the plate and aimlessly leaning against him as you two made your way to the cafeteria where the rest of your friends were.

“Ew, dude, you smack so loud!” you remarked as jabbed him with your elbow.

“Literally chew like dis everyday, bruv. Besides, nothing compares to your obnoxious sippin’.” he replied with a sneer, before returning to his smacking.

“Oh, ha-ha, right like I’m the slob!” you said sarcastically.

You two finally reached your table and your friends—gwen, miles, and pavitr—merely watched as you both laughed with each other and sat down with Hobie’s arm still thrown over your shoulder, completely oblivious to how you both looked from an outside perspective.

“Uh…do they see themselves?” miles whispered.

“I don’t think they’re aware…” gwen whispered back.

“Are they not already together?!” pavitr whisper-yelled.

“Wassup, mandem.” Hobie greeted.

When you grabbed your slice, you looked up at your friends for the first time. “Why are you guys so being quiet?” you asked, confused.

Gwen acted as if her mouth was filled with food and Miles and Pavitr copied her immediately, even adding a few extra finger licks here and there. Gwen covered her mouth before saying, “we already started eating that’s why.”

“Mmh, yeah, I was really getting into this bacon sandwich right here! Right, Pav?” Miles asked with an awkward smile.

“Totally, man!” Pavitr replied, too enthusiastic.

“Okay…” you chucked at their weirdness, then followed up with, “So, how was your first mission, Miles?”

“Light-work, needed no help at all! I don’t know why Miguel was acting like I was gonna screw the whole thing up.” he responded with a shrug.

“Except that you did need help and couldn’t do it all alone on your first try…” Gwen chimed in.

“I hardly see how that’s relevant.” Miles clapped back.

You were trying to listen and eat at the same time, but Hobie’s head laying against your shoulder made the endeavor a little challenging. You were still eating, though his weight now on you was all you could focus on.

In Hobie’s mind, he appreciated the closeness and carelessness towards touch you guys carried in your relationship because he could lean against you or hold you close all he wanted without it seeming like he viewed you as more than a friend. It was a great way to mask his ever-growing crush on you, along with the occasional teasing flirts that he could play off as jokes.

“You got some sauce on your face, lad.” he commented before gently wiping off tomato sauce from the corner of your mouth with the side of his thumb. You stayed put as soon as you felt his touch on your face. You thanked him with a smile before resuming to your almost finished slice. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr just shook their heads at each other.

“You lot doin’ anythin’ tonight?” Hobie asked the group.

“Nope, I—Yeahhhh, gonna be super busy with my aunt Maya back at home!” Pavitr explained once Gwen slightly nudged him.

“Yeah, I gotta help my mom with…work…stuff! And gwen’s helping me!” Miles added.

“Alright, then...you free?” Hobie asked as he looked up at you.

“Um, yeah, got nothing planned for the rest of the day.”

“Another jam sesh at my place?”

“I’m down!” you exclaimed.

“Coo’, let’s go after dis!” he said before suddenly grabbing your pizza crust and stuffing it in his mouth.

“Hey! I wanted that!” you bemoaned.

“Too bad.” he said, almost inaudibly, with a smirk.

“You repay my kindness with still stealing my food?!”

“Deal with it.” he stated playfully.

You abruptly placed him in a headlock and he started to yelling “tap out, tap out” before swiftly pulling your arm over his head and going straight for a tickle attack. Once you felt the funny tingle on your neck you began to squirm around and laugh out loud. Hobie laughed to himself quietly at the escalation of events, but paused at the hearty sound of your laughter. You sounded sweet.

“At this point we’re 5th wheeling...” Miles sighed.

“Yeah, if we leave we’ll go unnoticed.” Gwen added.

Pavitr was mumbling to himself incessantly before finally shouting, “when are you two going to ask each other out?! You’re driving us all nuts!”

The whole table was now silent and a few spideys around the area looked over.

You and Hobie looked at one another, and simultaneously went, “huh??”

“Huh? What do you mean ‘huhhh?’ ! You guys are always so immersed in each other, you’re practically dating!!” Pavitr went on.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Pav. We’re just friends!” you defended.

“You two act like a couple and every-spider here can see that!” he explained further.

“Hey, lovebirds! I got a proposition for both of you.” Peter B. Parker appeared out of nowhere.

“See?!!!” Pav stressed.

“Oh.” Hobie just said.

“Well…that’s how we are with each other! Super close! There’s nothing going on here.”

“Yeah, what they said.” Hobie agreed.

“You two actually make a great power couple! You’re like the stereotypical punk-rock duo.” Gwen mid-joked.

───────── ☆

That was five hours ago, and now you two are in Hobie’s band room playing together. No real song was being played, but you and him liked to mess around and improvise new sounds. Him on guitar and you on drums. You twirl the sticks like a natural and change rhythms from time to time and Hobie’s fingers glide adeptly across his chords as he harmonizes with you.

This was one of your favorite pastimes because it’s how you and Hobie bonded at first; when you found out he played guitar you shared that you knew how to play drums and there was an instant connection.

He was already interested in you because of your unique fighting style even though you two shared about the same abilities. You thought his dope way of dressing and punk attitude was enough to reel you in, however music brought your spirits together and a beautiful friendship had blossomed as a result.

Beneath the teasing moments and oblivious public displays of affection, lay Hobie’s mind constantly debating whether or not he should casually admit he likes you, but his never ending fear of possibly ruining your friendship, if you reject him, ultimately wins the debate in the end and he shrugs his feelings off.

It’s moments like these, when you play together, that he takes the time to appreciate your company and steal a few glances at your face. Hobie would strike his chords and try to look at you without being noticed at first, but realized he could stare at you for longer because you would be deeply immersed in your playing. You were just so precious, he thought.

Unbeknownst to him, you did the same, though you struggled far more because you were forced to look down. Every chance you got, you’d instantly look up and take a second to revel in his coolness and cuteness while he played. You struggled more this time because your mind was tasked with a serious decision it needed to make.

“I think we should take a break. My hands are getting tired.” you stretched and cracked your fingers.

“Good idea.” he chugged the last bit of water left in his bottle, then chucked it into a bin.

He carefully laid his guitar against its stand and you placed down your sticks. He followed behind you out the room and into his small living space. You threw yourself onto his couch with a yawn and he did the same, then positioned himself so that his head was leaning on yours.

“You know, I thought a lot about what Gwen and Pav said eariler, and I actually do think we would make a great power couple. In a cool way, you know?“ you suggested with a light chuckle.

“I think we’d make a cute couple in general.” Hobie teased, half-jokingly.

“That too.” you immediately agreed.

Your confidence was through the roof all of the sudden and the urge to tell Hobie the truth about how you’ve felt for months was dying to acted upon. You knew the stakes were high, but you couldn’t deal with hiding your personal, inner thoughts any longer.

His eyes slightly widened, he was taken aback. “Wait, huh?”

“Well, yeah, now that I think about it…they were right. We do make a power couple because of our hero identities, we act like a couple, and it only helps that I like you too.” you confessed.

“You bein’ for real?” he turned to eye you and search for any hint of teasing.

“Gosh, yes, Hobie I really like you okay?! I want to be with all the time, swing around London with you always, watch our favorite movies, and make music! I don’t want to leave your side. You’re all I want.” you spilled out.

You watched Hobie nervously and fidgeted with your fingers as you waited for his mouth to form the anticipating words. You were honestly a little scared; the ‘idgaf’ attitude left as soon as it came and now you don’t actually know what he’ll respond with.

Hobie finally picked up his mouth and admitted, “I hate watching you go because I always want you to stay, love. I don’t like gettin’ all sentimental, howeva you make being vulnerable a whole lot easier. I want all of my time to be consumed by you and I would like everyone to know how much I care for you, so…I really like you too.”

Relief, bliss, and watery eyes were all jabbing you at once. You exhaled a breath you were unaware of holding, processed the fact that Hobie—your best friend—just admitted he liked you back, and his extremely sweet words were going to stupidly make you cry.

He gave you a warm smile, then brought you in for a tight hug. “Aww, don’t be such a sap.” he joked before stroking your back as you began to sniff.

“I was so worried you didn’t feel the same, Hob! I was preparing to say goodbye!” you lightly sniffed.

“I like you, alright? I love everythin’ about you. I love bein’ around you, listenin’ to your pointless rants, mockin’ you at every opportunity, but what I love most about you is your understanding of me. I appreciate you like no other and I want you to know that, even though I got a weird way of showin’ it.” he went on, running his hands above your undershirt.

“Gosh, you’re so sweet when you want to be, Hobie. You’re so cute for that.” you professed just seconds before taking advantage of your newfound confidence once more and pecking his lips.

Now, Hobie was physically taken aback and wasn’t sure where was appropriate for him to place his hands. You giggled at his dumbfounded state, him not knowing how to one up you this time. You kissed him again.

“For pete’s sake, you’re gonna turn me real soft!” he complained while laughing. “Give me another.”

“With pleasure!” you beamed, then kissed the rest of his face.

───────── ☆

© beatificwrites

[likedovesinthewindd]

Hi are you still taking requests I was wondering if u could do something like Hobie visiting his girlfriend(who is a nurse or doctor) at a free clinic in his universe after leaving HQ and they are just being a cute couple in love(maybe suggestive if u feel comfortable). Bonus points if the topic of kids come up(u know cuz of Mayday) and Y/N is like you’d be a good dad.

i am! and i love this sm so I'll give it my best

hobie brown x fem!reader

warning: mentions of needles and other medical terminology, a slight bit suggestive but nothing too crazy i promise.

wc: ±870

a/n: i love this gif omg😭

gif not mine, all credit to original creator.

Days at the clinic were busy most of the time, but you had been fortunate enough to have a fairly calm afternoon on your hands.

You were just getting ready to go home, getting all your things together, when you heard a knock on the door, before you heard the squeak of it being opened. You turned around to find Hobie standing in the doorframe, his tall figure slightly crouched and a smile on his pretty face.

"What a nice suprise, thought you were still at HQ," you said, zipping your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder. "Just got back, thought I'd check in on my favorite nurse," he said with a smirk and you rolled your eyes playfully. "I'm serious," he said when he saw this, "missed my girl."

You gave him a warm smile, trying not to show how much his words made your stomach flutter with butterflies. "You caught me at the perfect time, just got off," you said as you made your way to him, wrapping your arms around and sighing when you felt his long ones wrap around you. "Let's get you home, love," he said and you hummed.

Most of your colleagues knew about you and Hobie, seeing as he always came around the clinic to visit you on your breaks. At first they had been noticeably shocked at the pairing, but it quickly dissipated after every visit.

On your walk home, he had asked you to tell him about his day. He always asked you to tell him about your day; every day. He loved hearing the way you'd describe every task you'd completed and anything weird you had witnessed, your voice alone enough to make him feel like a smitten schoolboy. He quite frankly didn't care if you had the most boring day imaginable either, he just loved hearing your voice.

"I had to give a little girl a shot today. Poor thing was terrified of needles, like petrified. I ended up having to sing her favorite song with her just to distract her," you said as the two of you took the flight of stairs that led to your shared apartment. "That probably scared her even more," he said jokingly and you poked him in the ribs with your housekey, before jabbing it into your apartment door. "Asshole," you muttered, your smile betraying your angry facade.

"Y'know I'm jus' joking," he said his height allowing him to place a kiss on the top of your head as you struggled with the door. "Don't let that damn piercing get stuck in my hair again, please," you warned as you finally got the door open. "Yes ma'am," he said laughing into your hair, removing his lips reluctantly and following you into the apartment.

You quickly whipped up something for the two of you to eat, while he cleaned the bedroom that the two of you had neglected this morning, both too busy getting ready for the day. When you finally finished, the two of you made your way to the couch, equally hungry and tired.

You ate quietly as comfortably as the soft music coming from Hobie's old CD player filled the room with a calm atmosphere. You found yourself thinking about your day once again, and before you even had time to register it, the question had left your lips.

"Would you ever want kids, bee?"

The question threw him a bit off guard. He seized his chewing, quietly placing his spoon back into his bowl and turning to you.

"Are you...?" he tried and your eyes widened. "No! Lord, no I'm not, I'm just curious," you said, placing your own bowl on the small coffee table. "Where's this comin' from?" he asked and you shrugged. "I just thought about the little girl at the clinic, then I thought about little May and how much she likes you. I just think you'd be a cool dad."

Hobie's eyebrows rose in intrigue at your admission, followed by a smile. "Well, I know you'd be an amazing mommy," he said playfully and you couldn't help giggling. After a moment he spoke up again. "Is this your way of telling me you want a baby?" he asked. You shrugged again. "Maybe, not right now obviously, but one day. I was serious when I said you'd be a good father." He smiled, noticing the way his heart clenched at your sincerity. If he ever did decide to have children, he'd gladly share that with you.

"Maybe one day," he said and you smiled, taking both your dirty dishes to the sink; a task left for tomorrow morning. "I'm gonna take a shower, I need to get out of these clothes," you said making your way back to the couch, in search of your phone. "That's a damn shame, you always look so sexy in your blue uniform," Hobie said and you laughed.

He swiftly pulled you into his lap and you yelped at the sudden movement. "Maybe we could get started on that baby," he said playfully and you swatted his chest. "You're fucking crazy," you exclaimed, making him break into a fit of laughter.

"Was worth the try."

[aestetet]

he's just so.... owo <3333

[spaceagerabbit]

hobie brown is absolutely the type of person to say “yeah, bein’ so gorgeous’ll do that to you” whenever you yawn

[drizzlingcups]

goofy goober

[destructionray]

Hobie Brown/Spiderpunk Relationship HC's

spider-punk relationship hc's?? This is the first time I've shared my work so sorry if it's bad i genuinely don't know how to write stuff </3 also i tried to keep the reader gender-neutral but i might be a little biased because im transmasc (fuck fem!readers i actually hate yall/j) i also tried to keep it spoiler-free

1.3k words

warnings: none (okay maybe a tiny bit of curse words)

ALWAYS sharing earbuds. there's not a single time this man will let you sit next to him without listening to some of his jams

I KNOW THIS MAN GIVES A GOOD CUDDLE!!

hes usually the type to only give half-hugs, having just an arm around your shoulder or waist when you're just chilling

but when you ask for a real hug?? It'll literally be the most comforting thing.

pulling you in to his chest and wrapping his arms around you tightly, one hand around your shoulder and the other on your back, pressing his body up against yours tightly

and he kisses the top of ur head!!

BUT hes a little pissed that he has to take off his jacket every time because of how spiky it is

he can't count the amount of times you've tried to rest your head on his shoulder but ended up getting poked by the spikes on his jacket.

he LOVES hugging you from behind

he's not super touchy, but when he's around a lot of people he'll always be touching you in some way.

having his hand in your back pocket, having a hand on your hip, holding eachothers pinkies

i swear he has a a thing for hips or waists/j

ESPECIALLY touchy in front of authorities, he'll make out with you in front of them just to piss them off.

the hand placement when he kisses yoy oh my godddd

either a hand on your cheek and/or around your waist, or when you're making out he has his hand on the back of your head, pushing you closer to him

neck kisses <3333

there's almost no way you could be taller than him, my guy is 6'3 AND wears platforms.

prepare to be used as an armrest for him.

you like his piercings? He'll do one for you.

that man has never paid for a single piercing in his LIFE.

insisted on doing piercings for you, especially if you had never had any done before.

he'll do stick n pokes for you aswell if you're interested in getting a tattoo.

if you're an artist, he'll let you do some on him aswell.

BEGGED you to get matching tattoos and/or piercings

he's so cute, how could you say no?

calls you "love" ALL THE TIME. You're not entirely sure if it's because he loves you or if it's just a weird thing brits do

your dates are mostly going to strange or abandoned places and hanging/having a picnic/listening to music/mildly illegal stuff, or sneaking into a movie theater to watch stuff without paying.

if you're a Spider-person too, you guys definetily have had a romantic moment on top of skyscraper before.

if you're afraid of heights, he'll hold you in his arms the entire time he takes you to a place high up. he'll never let you go

he noticed that you miss him a lot, so made you your own watch to travel to his dimension or the Spider-society at any time

he totally has a ton of pictures with you in his room, printed by some cheap shitty polariod camera

When he gets injured, he immideately resorts to you instead of going to a hospital or proper medic

He doesn't like seeing you get worried about him, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't love the extra attention and care you gave him, and the time you spend together patching him up.

Shows his love instead of telling you

Only says "i love you" in special moments (which sometimes could just be spending time cuddling & relaxing together after a bad day)

Literally all over you when he's tired or after a day of being Spider-Punk

Has 100% yelled at or completely ignored Miguel for calling him on a mission while he's with you.

You play an instrument? He'll practice with you every single day.

If you don't have any motivation to, he'll be your motivation. He loves hearing you play.

If you were interested in playing guitar, he totally sat for hours and teached you chords.

Holding your hand to make it press down on the strings, and saying "good job" or other little praises whenever you got it right.

You're interested in playing drums? He asked Gwen to come over and practice with you, and he was you two's hypeman.

He loves seeing you get along well with his best friends.

If you tell him your favorite song(s), he secretly learns it on his guitar until he's perfected it and then plays it for you.

Your reactions are always so amusing to him, and he loves it.

Makes you playlists with both his and your favorite songs so you can listen to them together

Spotify playlists? Nope, he dowloaded all the music (probably illegally) and burned them on CD's.

He gave you a portable CD player so you could listen to his playlists at any time.

At his gigs, he always makes sure you're as close to the stage as possible so he can keep an eye on you

You're always invited to his shows, no matter what, and he'll always play better and show off more when he sees you in the crowd

Brings you backstage just to give you a kiss between songs

most likely wrote you a few songs (or more cough cough)

Gave you one of his studded bracelets and said it looks good on you, even if it totally clashes with your style.

He loves seeing you wear it, and it's like you're being constantly reminded of him whenever you wear it.

Ever try his stuff on? It's yours now.

Clothes? no doubt. Jewlery? Yours. Literally anything else? You can have it.

He even gives you guitar picks from his shows, even if you have no use for them

He'll totally nick some of your sweaters or accessories once in a while though.

On the topic of gifts, he always steals small things he sees you looking at for a suspiciously long time in store

He's like a crow, always stealing shiny things (jewlery)

Yeah, he's definetily a bit of a kleptomaniac.

His criminal record must be insane just bc of his stealing habit

He totally makes you custom pins or patches with your favorite bands logos

Hes a very "DIY" kind of guy

He doesn't wanna spend money on things that are overpriced simply because it's popular, so a lot of the gifts he gives you are handmade

VERY skilled at making things though

That man does EVERYTHING.

Crochet, sewing, knitting, drawing, painting, handicraft, sculpting, you name it.

He's also surprisingly good at cooking/baking. (But sadly he doesn't believe in expiration dates/j)

MATCHING NAILS!!!

he usually colors his nails in with black sharpie, but he'll 100% let you paint his nails with actual nail polish

Pulling up at your place when he's drunk isn't an uncommon occurence.

He's a very affectionate drunk.

Especially if he's tired.

He'll tell you how much he loves you, joke around, and always has at least one arm slung around your shoulder

Never uses the front door to your house/apartment.

Always climbing through your windows, because he insists it's easier than knocking on a door.

Plus, if you still live with your parents, it'll make sneaking in at night WAY easier.

He doesn't believe in marriage. Says it's a way for the government to control your relationship and a waste of money

He loves stuff like promise rings though

His accent is so thick, so you're like a translator for him whenever someone doesn't understand him/j

Not related to Hobie, but Pavitr ships you two HARD. He NEVER let you hear the end of it when he first saw you guys kiss.

Pav's always making stupid cute and petty little remarks about your relationship, but he finds you two absolutely adorable.

feel free to give advice or anything in the comments because i genuinely dont know if this is good or nah,,

[liyawritesss]

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

Sign Up For My Taglist Here!

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.

[dizscreams]

hi! could you write a hobie x gn!reader where reader is his civilian s/o and he's taking care of then after they got caught up in some fight he was having with a villian?

CARETAKER

— Hobie Brown ★

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X GN!READER

A/N: this is the cutest thing ever because I stand by that hobie would be a great caretaker ☹️🫶

Hobie watched as you fell to the concrete ground with a yell. You weren’t supposed to be here and you weren’t supposed to get hurt. Hobie told you to stay inside but you were too stubborn to listen to him.

You saw him take a beating and rushed out to help him which only led to you getting hurt. Hobie finished off his fight with the villain and quickly alerted police to capture the criminal before he rushed over to you. “Y/n?,” he shook you slightly, “Please tell me you’re alright.” After a moment of unbearable silence you coughed and nodded your head. Hobie let out a breath of relief and picked you up before swinging to your apartment. He climbed through the window with you still in his arms. It was moments like this he was grateful for his strength.

He led you both to the bathroom before putting you back in the ground. “Here, sit,” he said tapping the sink countertop. You climbed on it with a wince and watched as Hobie quickly got the first aid supplies.

He looked like a nervous wreck.

You put your head against the wall and listened to Hobie’s almost inaudible mutters from the other room about how ‘he told you to stay put’ and that ‘you’re too stubborn.’ Which you thought was slightly hypocritical coming from him but you didn’t say anything.

You could only imagine how scared he probably was. And you knew how he always wanted to keep you as far away from his job as possible. He came back in the bathroom with the Medkit supplies and wasted no time in getting to work. He got disinfectant on a rag and lifted up your shirt. “It may sting,” he warned softly.

He watched you nod and he began to slowly wipe at the blood that was on your gash. Luckily it wasn’t too deep. You observed how his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and you listened to his low humming that took over the comfortable silence.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “I just wanted to help you.” He looked up at you for a moment and shook his head as he wiped more of the blood off. “I know. T’s alright I was just worried about you is all.” You winced when he put a little too much pressure and he apologized.

You smiled to yourself at how loving and caring Hobie could be when he wanted to be. “You’re a cute nurse.” He gave you a playful scoff, “Always gotta tease me huh?” You giggled and watched how his somewhat stoic expression turned to a soft one with a gentle smile on his lips.

Hobie grabbed a large bandage and carefully put it on you. “There you go,” he patted your back, “All done.” He gave you a featherlight kiss to the bandage and then kissed your lips. You pulled away and hugged him. “Thank you, Hobs.”

“Of course, love. Just take it easy, yeah? Get some rest.” “Ohh giving me orders now, doc?” He shook his head as he rolled his eyes and gently lifted you up off of the counter making sure not to hurt you.

[rkrq]

Unfinished Spiderpunk drawing.

It had become too messy so I abandoned it. Maybe the messiness makes it a true punk drawing...

[strawhatkia]

sundress season.

INCLUDES ! 1610!miles and hobie brown x black!fem!reader

GENRE ! fluff

SYNOPSIS ! they see you in a sundress for the first time

WARNINGS ! character and reader are not together...yet!,

WORD COUNT ! 0.6k

A/N ! the way this was suppose to be the whole spider crew plus miguel and i got tired not even half way through....this just gon be a lil tester but this is getting deleted and revamped later !

reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍

MAIN MASTERLIST | SPIDER VERSE MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

— ☾⋆⁺₊🌻🖌✧ SPIDER-MILES !

i cannot fathom to you how flustered this boy gets on a regular day when y'all really not doing anything. the boy already really likes how you look in your regular uniform or just casual street clothes so when rio and jeff invite you over for the carne asada/cookout and you popped in a sundress of all things, he kinda doesn't know how to act.

oh, and his parents find it absolutely hilarious. this is really the time where him being jeff's son and aaron's nephew really shines through. he's awkward about it and can't seem to get through any of his sentences.

he really likes the way it fits you and the color compliments you well but he has such a hard time for like a good 30 minutes. eventually, aaron comes to save him and gives him a tip of going to get some drinks for the both of you and take you somewhere private to talk.

not to mention, his whole family thinks you two are too cute for words and takes every chance to mention how much of a good couple you two make. once you come back over to get something to eat, you are bombarded by multiple family members. miles is definitely nervously laughing to get through the embarrassment of all them making the most outlandish comments and gave up after the 4th tia said how lucky he is to have you.

— ☾⋆⁺₊🎸🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 ✧ HOBIE BROWN !

this is literally the world's boldest man ever, he truly don't give a fuck whose watching. you were actually in the middle of a block party when you were called to debrief about a mission. not to be bothered to put on your suit (especially since peter b. walks around in a pink robe of all things), you step through the portal in your sundress and sandals.

certainly not the first time hq has seen you out of uniform but the sundress has you grabbing compliments left and right from all the spider people present (even miguel, which was surprising). it would be hobie to see you last though. he was originally talking to pav who was rambling on about his recent date with gayatri again when he catches a glimpse of you pass by to go into the meeting room with miguel and jessica.

now in my eyes, hobie immediately tunes out of pav's conversation at once to focus all of his attention on you and makes the split decision to follow you in there. it's not like jessica will care enough to kick him out and he does not care what miguel has to say. quite frankly, the man only sees you at the moment and that doesn't even catch up to him until he's right in front of you.

then in the thickest accent possible, he flirts endlessly throughout the entire meeting. the man has no sense of personal space around his friends and it's only ten times worse with you. hanging off your shoulders, wrapping his long arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder while hugging from behind. you do your best to acknowledge, because ignoring him will not work and only make it worse, but to also get through the meeting.

it's easy to chalk it up as hobie being a physical person but there's only so much to explain the way he feels up on the material of the dress, making comments that make you feel like you're blushing and distract from whatever miguel was saying before he gave up and just told you to come in later. without hobie.

leaving the meeting was easier than staying in it but now you gotta deal with a very cocky spiderman that is doing his absolute best to talk you into coming back to his dimension. (pav is watching from a distance with a bag of popcorn, squealing over how many of his friends are having romance novel moments)

©STRAWHATKIA ━ all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to starsoir. please refrain from copying, stealing, profiting off my works, or using my works for asmr related work. i don’t allow my works to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍

wanna read more ??

check back later !

taglist: @mypimpademia @cosmiles @megurulvr @dreampurpledreams

[likedovesinthewindd]

btw I love your works anyways wouldn’t it be so cute if Hobie Brown/spiderpunk was with like a coquette girly (bonus points if she lies to a cop for him like ‘officer he would never do that’ omg i prob sound like a pickme😭) and like shes so lana del rey but hes so punk rocker😫😫

no bc i see your vision!! im a real sucker for the opposites attract concept like c'mon you can't tell me he wouldn't love a pretty gf by his side, doting on her like crazy!!

hobie brown x fem coquette!reader

❀ hobie's literally just so entranced by you. like he thinks you're just the prettiest girl he's ever laid his eyes on.

❀ you might seem soft and unconfrontational, but best believe you'll go to war for your man. if that means lying to cops for him you'll gladly do it. "what do mean he stole it? he's never stolen anything in his life now go away thank you:)"

❀ he calls you "princess" or "pretty girl" because you're just so beautiful to him like he has heart eyes every time he sees you.

❀ everyone's kinda shocked about your relationship bc the two of you look kinda crazy together. like it's this 6'3 punk guy with piercings and crazy clothes and next to him is this girl with the most dainty clothes, everything ironed and styled to perfection and not a hair out of place. he doesn't give two shits that people are staring though, and neither do you.

❀ he loves styling your hair in all these beautiful styles. He'd have you sit by your vanity in the mornings and he'd work his magic and just create the prettiest styles for you. Like look at how cool his hair is, you can't tell me he doesn't know about hair maintenance and styling. Like he can definitely braid like a champ. few examples below⤸

like he can work magic with your hair i just know it. and he finishes it off with the prettiest accessories like ribbons and bows because he knows you love accessorizing.

❀ he's always giving you little gifts. sometimes even home made things which absolutely melt your heart.

❀ best believe you're at every band performance. you stick out like a sore thumb but you don't care; you're their biggest suppoter after all.

❀ he let's you wear his clothes. he just loves seeing you in your pretty pink sundress, mary-janes with frilly socks, and then topped of with his battle jacket. (it's also so that everyone could see you were his girl 🤭)

❀ you don't have as many piercings as him (he's still been trying to convince you to get more) but the two of you do have matching dermals. yours on your lower back and his by his collarbones. He has two simple ones and yours are two pretty pink diamonds.

[muggamanga]

— 🕷 ˖ ˚ 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

꒰ ## ꒱ ❝ I was this cool this whole time. ❞

[firewalkzwit]

briefly a runway model // hobie brown x reader (one-shot)

i wrote another one bc i felt like i went scarce on the elaboration on the last one, plus i had this idea on my head for days and i wanted to write it down

"It's 1970's in London, the rise in the punk scene motivated YN to make an artistic statement in the shape of clothes. Once set up a scandalous boutique, who would model the even more scandalous attire?"

inspired by vivienne westwood <33

word count: 2.6k

AO3

Heinous industry it was indeed. Trying to open a boutique that catered to making a statement and shaking the UK awake was not easy when it was plagued with thieves and ordinary people who treated her work as simple fetish garments to use in the privacy of their homes. Her designs were an expression, a statement, and meant to be paraded flagrantly. To some her work was simply shock material, but that was part of the point. The only way a society opressed into taboos and public condemn to the embrace of humanity could possibly open its mind was through provoquing them in their streets, TVs and radios. And that was what she aimed for the very moment her boutique opened it's small doors. 

Located in an important avenue, and paying a considerable fortune for the rent of what used to be a dump, YN turned a ratty and neglected old shop into her boutique. Planning to make it big and waking the UK up from it's coma, she counted with the support of local friends in the alternative and punk scene who would model her clothes in the streets. Accompanied by a wave of lowlives with no future who knew only destruction, who were welcome too. The immense groups of new generation youth who were segregated from forming part of anything had found a home in the punk movement. 

Many borrowed her clothes in and out of the shop, but she knew who everyone was, and who was returning what and when was a hard thing to keep up with. This didn't mean that there weren't those who tried to borrow permanently, looking around while they'd sneak items into their bags or coats. It's a tiring situation, and eventually one has to deal with things the easy way. No help of the authorities of course, as not only would they not have a care in the world about helping those who were trying to bring them down, but they wanted no help of fascists either. She'd deal with theives with a wooden baseball bat that sat behind the counter at the wait of serving justice. 

It was one of those days, and she'd been having her eye on him for a while. She was no saint, a 'borrower' herself, but responding to her morals she'd never take from artists or small businesses, only from those who had built their wealth and fortune slaving others away. This had taught her to identify certain ways of moving and gestures, even the way their eyes shifted around in an alert demeanor. The way they took strangely long on a specific rack and then they'd move on to the next taking way less time. Their arms fidgetting in their place or their hands contorting in their pockets almost frantically. Once again she'd witness it, bonding what was humorous to the excruciating nuisance of having to deal with another naughty customer. 

"Put that back." Her hand was already hugging the base of the bat and leaned on the counter, her gaze was pierced on the jumpy individual, who's eyes shifted towards her in an abrupt turn of his head, immediately given away by his own guilt when he felt addressed by a phrase that didn't carry his name. 

"Put what?" He retorted as he lifted his hands, his arms pressed tightly against his torso. She got up and lifted her weapon, resting it on her shoulder as she approached to block the door. The other few people in the shop stood quietly as they watched them, yet not quite alarmed as it was a standard procedure. The other end of her bat rested on his chest, sliding towards his armpits as her eyebrows arched. "Lift your arms." His hands dropped down as his head followed in a soft nervous laugh. "Alright, my bad. But YN said I could borrow these." From his flanks and under his leather jacket dropped two white tees from the same section, just as she'd guessed. "I don't recall letting you borrow anything." Her head tilted in disbelief as she stared in a twisted frown, she'd seen him around, she knew who he hung around with.

"Ay' I'm just fucking around with you, I was gonna return these." She crouched to pick the attire from the floor as she kept her piercing gaze on him. "You were gonna' wear and return two of the same?" He kept shaking his head and laughing, playing off the threat before him. "Me mates and I were gonna try those, but I was gonna give them back I mean it. You're YN then?" He extended his arm to offer a handshake, wiggling his long fingers as he offered a grin. "Give me a good reason to not beat you up right here." She once again adopted a threatning stance, stepping forward to point at him with her bat again. They both exchanged a long few seconds of staring as he thought of something to come up with. 

"I could wear your clothes to me show, I'm playing in the pub a few blocks down from here tonight, we sing what you put in those shirts." He extended his arm further, to which she scoffed before walking back to the counter, putting down her bat and shirts. She raised her gaze to look at the thief; tall and long, really long arms, with a thin and also elongated torso. Everything in his body was long and slender, even his hair which he wore in wicks that complimented his looks. He had a face hard to forget, prominent cheekbones and plump lips, with short thin eyebrows and a bunch of piercings. The longer she looked at him, the more she came to realize he was quite a handsome bloke. "Alright, I suppose you could, pet. You making any money off of those?" He scoffed at her question as he shook his head once again. "Fuck no, I will soon though." His hands made their way to his pockets as he walked towards the counter where she was rested on. "Look I can't afford this stuff right now, I'll just give it back after the show, promise I'll get you some new people around." He rested his body on the opposite side of the counter, making her back up as he offered her a charming grin.

And so he did, and from a distance inside the pub she witnessed the scandal he was putting on as a show, with her designs on. To be fair, his presence on stage was impressive and quite striking, accompanied by loud music and polemical lyrics. If he and his band did make it big, he'd be an ambassador of a new wave of fashion designed to provoke the minds of the morally imprisoned. So she conceded him use of her attire in exchange for exposure and scandal, the gig was her show and he was on the catwalk.

The state the clothes returned in was often dreadful, but that was part of her brand. Those who had not a cent to their names often would spend the little they had on decent clothes just for the sake of keeping a job or maintaining a sense of humanity. In a world were individual value had been derived to the things people own, stripping them from their humanity and further turning into assets, ragged clothes with strong messages were often a factory of funny looks and criticism; noise. 

Eventually, he stopped returning her clothes, and as he started to gain popularity, she began to manufacture for him. "Call it a gift to the cause." She'd say, as he'd reluctantly model different leather jackets and obscene tees. He'd sit and slide off the counter like a slime, spinning around the racks and kicking boxes out of boredom. "You like our music right?" He'd ask suddenly, being given little to no attention as all her focus was in manually printing her designs on a ripped white tee. "Yeah sure, it's loud, it's noisy. It's what we need to shake the UK awake from it's deep sleep." She stated as she shook the pink tint off her hands. 

"I know, I mean if you actually like it." Hobie sat across the rudimentary table that was hidden from the accesible part of the boutique through a velvet tartan curtain. "Oh well if you're asking about the sound of it, it's not particularly something I musically enjoy. I suppose you don't either, that's not the point of it." As she spoke she never stopped to look at him, he on the other hand leaned on the table, trying to decipher the meaning behind the borderline offensive prints on the shirts. 

"Well what do you like?" She looked up to him, who was already staring at her inquisitively. She'd respond the usual greats; Bowie, New York Dolls, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd... To some he'd laugh at, others he'd agree, picking some inspiration figures from the bunch. "You can sing I suppose." She assumed as she got up, walking up to his guitar rested on the counter. He followed behind her, puzzled. "No, I can't sing, why?" She sat herself on the counter with his guitar on hand, pushing it against his chest as she leaned slightly backwards. 

"Improv' me Moonage Daydream, supposing you can do that. I need some music." She offered him a provoking grin, to which he responded with a nasal laugh, possitioning his guitar to play acoustic and by nothing but his memory to guide him. As she acclimated to the resembling melody of her favorite song with her eyes closed, she jumped down from her counter and returned to her table behind the curtain, beginning to sing the lyrics as he tried to follow her voice from the distance. What went on for a prolongued minute was interrupted by her abrupt reappearance from behind the curtain, holding on to the fabric as she slightly swung from side to side. "Come on Hobes, don't leave me hanging." She approximated to him, wet paint brush in hand. Shyly he eventually followed her tune, and they sang along poorly yet amused as she held out the wooden microphone to both of them, cheeks practically grazing eachother as they exchanged looks from the corner of their eyes, herself gifting him an ocasional grin. 

The song ended, and they were left in awkward silence and enough physical proximity to feel the warmth that oozed from their bodies. Their heads, parallel to one another would turn enough for their faces to properly see each other, maintaining a quiet stare as they waited for a move, or a word to come out of the other. "If we're gonna' shag, it's not gonna' be right here is it?" He asked to break the silence, to which she rolled her eyes and sighed, breaking the barely perceptible contact of their arms against eachother. "Don't worry sugar, we won't be shagging anywhere." 

Since then, Hobie had adopted the habit of making insinuations of the sort to pester her while she worked, or when she bothered him dressing him for hours like a customized doll. She'd brush them off swiftly, used to the predictable resorts of men. While he was doing it to get a kick out of it, his offers stood serious if she'd ever care to see them that way. He'd always put his generosity on display in the shape of asking everyday, but rejection wouldn't stop his persistence, as either reactions served him pleasurable. "I could play you Moonage Daydream again, sing together and all..." Hobie shrugged as her hands traced up his torso, studying the fit of a tee cut short enough to reveal part of his lower abdomen and tightly draw the silhouette of his shoulders. "Someday Hobes, we could." 

She lived in a compact apartment in a building cramped against other structures, cursed with thin walls through which trespassed the audible lives of neighbors below, on top and beside her. She eventually learnt to tolerate it, but it implied some limitations to the peace of silence to play some good music and enjoy nothing but the sound of it, or even sing to hear nothing but your own voice without the supporting vocals of neighbors. Hobie on the other hand, lived on the damp peace of an isolated little canal boat. Unique and as quiet as it gets. She'd been to his place before, and taking the liberty of leaving her print in the shape of designs of her own. He didn't mind, on the contrary he'd always say his palace needed decoration. 

It was one particular night where she visited where his usual demeanor was enhanced by the use of whatever substance he'd acquire in and out of the pubs where he played. Nothing she hadn't seen before or to be worried about, but never had she been left alone with him under the influence. He was rambling about his gigs and his thoughts on the press, as she was seated on the cold mattress where he slept. The hardness of the foam against the wooden floor sent a frigid wave up her body, not paying attention to his directionless monologue. "Before I forget, I learnt to proper play Moonage Daydream if you wanna' listen." She looked up at him after his sentence, giving him a smile of invitation that signaled him to sit beside her and play. And so he did. Before he began, he jammed in what could only be translated as a guitar ramble. His fingers clumsily pressing on the strings as he thought it through. It was before he even began to play that she let a giggle escape from between her lips forming a smile, she'd think he even looked somewhat cute in his attempts at playing a song for her. His head immediately broke the focus to look up at her, staring for a long second before speaking with a grin.

"Why'd I always think you had nasty teeth? You have really nice teeth." He spoke in what she could only describe as a sad attempt in flirting. "Teeth? You could talk about my eyes, or my face, my tits even, and you choose my teeth?" Hobie laughed as she maintained her smile, softly laughing together. "You're real witty I'll give you that compliment." She'd expect him to look back down at his guitar like he usually would after shooting her a flirty comment, but this time he did not look away, his tilted head remained unfazed and so did his gaze. She tried to briefly look away, to break the tension of the prolongued staring, yet she'd immediatly look back at him to see if he was still looking, which he was. "Suppose a shag is out of the question." He stated in what was indeed, a question rather than an affirmation. She'd usually say nothing, or find in her the humor to retort something to brush him off, but this time she didn't. As hard as she tried to mouth something, or as much as she tried to contain the urge of saying something, she couldn't come up with anything better to say.

"Fuck it." 

Hobie briefly expressed his shock in the shape of arched eyebrows and a grin, but he spared no time or left no room for mind-changing, putting his guitar aside before jumping on her. His kisses were as clumsy and uncoordinated as he played guitar, but she loved that of him. This time it was him who got to strip her and slide his hands all over her body, opposed to the usual role where she'd have him stand in nothing but his underwear as she groped and stretched whatever clothes she'd put on him. His hands couldn't decide whether they wanted to grab her breasts or her ass, and his lewd kisses became more intense by the second, as she'd lay down and he'd top her anxious to finally nail down on what he'd been joking about for months. 

[drizzlingcups]

I drew him using laso-tooled silhouettes instead of lines teehee hoblart kicking me down the art burrow

[lampylamperson]

Pt 1. Of my spiderverse Halloween costume ideas,and @gh0stsp1d3r I decided on Steven universe instead of sonic.

Anyways please like and reblog if ya see thing I’m trying my hardest and I just grinded so hard on this artwork

[liyawritesss]

ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...

Characters: Hobart “Hobie” Brown [Spider-Punk] x black!earthy!GN!reader

Type: headcanons

Synopsis: What’s it like to be favored by everyone’s favorite punk-alt spider, in either a platonic or romantic setting?

Warnings: cursing, very very horrible british accent & slang I apologize in advance/please teach me better

A/N: I specifically had an earthy!reader in mind but I think that it can somewhat be applied to most other aesthetics as well. It was just a reason for me to write a farmers market date type thing because it's so cute to me. Hobie is around 18-19 in this!!

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

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You meet Hobie at a community farmers market, one that you frequented often because of the closeness to your home and the bartering style of trade that was used in place of currency. You had a service of your own that you provided to the community, and exchanged the things you made, grew, or produced, or the knowledge you had in exchange for the things that you needed such as food, clothes, utensils, etc.

Hobie’s crew was a new sight to see in the last couple of trips you’d taken to the market, their presence striking yet welcomed by the community there. Thick black boots and spikes adorned their bodies, slightly rattled clothes giving them an edge, but none of them were hostile, and in fact, many of his crew - including Hobie himself - engaged in the bartering and trade system themselves

The two of you seemed to be from completely different worlds, but with the same mindset, beliefs, and values in defying the construct, it wasn’t long before eventually the two of you engaged with each other as well.

On his electric guitar you noticed a couple of missing strings, and the remaining ones seemed to be on their last legs anyway. You had a friend who specialized in string instruments, and offered to get him a new set of strings if he taught you how to play. Contrary to what you initially thought, he accepted

So a week later, you both met at the market again, you with the promised strings and a basket of baked goods and other produce you were bartering away, and so began your friendship with the punk-alt man.

Hobie and his crew called you their ‘wildflower’ because of the earth tones you dressed in and how you were so fascinated with flowers that sometimes you’d pin them to your clothes or your hair. It was cute to them, him specifically, and it was an interesting sight to see a spot of green and brown amidst the sea of black and red.

You’d go to his shows sometimes, teasing him about putting the strings you got him to good use, and he definitely shows up and shows out because of it.

If its a late night, and you took a raincheck on one of his underground shows, he’ll find himself at your place and crash, leaving little to no room for argument. Hobie spends the night so often he has clothes tucked in his own little chest in your room. 

You don’t live in town, however, opting to live in the countryside in a tiny cottage left to you by your family, so you always wondered if he actually made the trek to your place or did he find someone to drop him off. He doesn’t tell you about his other identity just yet, though, so you’re stuck trying to figure out his riddles on the subject.

After a while of knowing each other he’ll give in to your constant begging of performing a wick maintenance on him. He never saw a point in ‘maintenance’ on his head, he liked it the way it was, but you were obviously fed up with how careless he was with his hair and figured it couldn’t hurt to indulge you. Though he cant deny that he knocks right out after the first wash, the way your fingers were massaging his scalp had him a bit too relaxed.

Neither of you are sure when the line between friendship and relationship began to blur. You just know that at some point he began to have physical contact with you more, growing more protective of you. You’d sleep in the same bed, finding comfort on top of his lanky yet warm body as Hobie’s arm drapes around your waist in his sleep. You start cooking for him, taking extra care in the presentation of it, even though all he’ll do is wolf it down the second he smells it.

Hobie never says anything, and with his constant reminders of hating labels and hating consistency as they were all forms of oppression by the establishment, neither did you. Yet you could never deny the tug on your heart that pulled you towards him whenever he was around, nor could you ignore the shift in his eyes whenever they landed on you.

It takes time for Hobie to come around to the idea of having these strong affections for someone. He never used the term ‘love’ as it pertains to relationships with people due to his past, and the knowledge that anyone you ‘love’ could leave you at any given notice. He was much better at showing rather than telling, but even that was hard for him for a while. So when he found his heart swelling and his chest growing tight and it becoming harder to breathe around you when he was harboring his feelings in secret, it scared him a little bit. Cuz how was someone like you even attracted to someone like him?

It is ultimately up to you to have a sit down with Hobie and address the air that surrounds the both of you - that whatever yall started off as has changed, and that you want it to be a good change, but Hobie has to acknowledge it to, and acknowledge you and how you feel. And as said before, it’s scary for Hobie, because he’s never had a need to label what he felt for anyone, but when it came to you, what he felt was so strong and intense that he felt like he had to.

So he tells you, he tells you everything that night - about his feelings, about his fears, even about him being Spider-Punk. And he’s expecting you to be apprehensive and change your mind about being with him, and what that truly means for people like the both of you. But you dont push him away, you don’t tell him to fuck off, and Hobie isn’t sure if he should be relieved or even more scared about that

All he knows is that he wakes up the next day to you cooking breakfast, like you normally did when he slept over, but this time, it feels different; solid, secure, warm. It feels like home, and that's something Hobie hasn’t had in a long time.

He moves with more purpose now, a lot of his intentions directed to you and the betterment of his bond with you. With his crew and out in public, he won’t hesitate to call you his person - he won’t use the term boyfriend or girlfriend, but partner or person is more reflective of the bond he wishes to enhance with you. 

Overall, loving Hobie Brown is an immense task. He’s loud and wild and everywhere sometimes; he’s also thoughtful, considerate, and gentle other times. You gotta teach him how to love in some areas, teach him what it means to be loved, and overall: patience and understanding is key with a man like Hobie - he’s got a lot going on, but if you’re willing to be down with someone like him, he won’t hesitate to make it worth your while.