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#and that Hobie's got his back he's not alone in this!
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Have an angsty snippet of my Hobie Brown x Reader fanfiction lol
This is what I headcanon his backstory is something like
TW: Blood, grief, death, very minor fluff, Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day (not really a trigger but whatever), Hobie's lines are bolded btw
A/N I KNOW GREEN DAY DIDN'T EXIST IN HOBIE'S TIME BUT I LOVE THIS SONG SO LET ME HAVE MY FUN 😭
~2k words
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"Aww Hobes, what are you doing?"
A 9 year-old Hobie Brown looked up at his big brother, his stubby little fingers still attached the chords of the older boy's new guitar. "I'm just looking!" he replied with a cheeky grin, holding the guitar back when his brother tried to grab it.
"Oi, give it back you prick!" The boy laughed, trying to snatch it again. Hobie danced away giggling, holding the guitar over his head. "Come and get-HEY!" The older boy tackled Hobie to the floor and pried the guitar out of his hands, holding it back out of his reach. 
"ABEEE!!" Hobie whined, his arms folded tightly over his chest. "Give it back!"
"You stole it first!" Abe giggled, 
"You're a jerk!"
"Who taught you that word?" Abe asked, wagging his finger at his little brother teasingly. "You're too little to be using mean words like that."
Hobie groaned, turning away from his brother and huffing. After a moment, the older boy sighed and crouched down behind his brother. "Ya want me to show you a couple chords?"
Hobie's face lit up. "Yea!"
Ten minutes later, he was all bundled up in his brother's arms while  he showed him the different  strings. "Alright this one's A." Abe put three fingers on the guitar and strummed it. Hobie nodded along, the side of his head on his brother's chest.
"And this one's A7. This one's A minor, this one's B minor, and this one's B7"
"I can't remember all those!" Hobie groaned.
"Alright, alright!" his brother said with a laugh. "How about I play you a song instead?"
"Okay." Hobie pulled out of his brothers arms to sit back against the old, broken down couch, a smile on his face as he waited for his brother to begin.
The older boy smiled at his little brother, pulling his hair back before resetting the guitar in his lap, fingers pressed against the chords.
He began playing. It wasn't the original song, more of a quiet, sadder, solo version. Hobie closed his eyes with a grin, taking a deep breath in. Even if it wasn't the real deal, he loved listening to his brother sing. His warm voice, the sound of the strums...it made him feel safe.
I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me, and I walk alone~
His brother hummed to the music, tapping his foot to the ground to follow the beat. Hobie followed, moving his head side to side with every tap, his fingers fidgeting together as he smiled up at Abe.
I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I'm the only one, and I walk alone~
Abe was really all he had left. He used to have a lot of siblings, two sisters and one brother other than Abe. He was the youngest of the five and of course, the rowdiest. His parents had been pretty cool too, his dad worked at a radio station and his mom had been a stay-at-home mom.
I walk alone, I walk alone
I walk alone, I walk alone
His youngest sister had gone first. She was only a year older than Hobie, but she had been less than five pounds as a baby and always had problems with sickness and diseases. After the water had been contaminated by another one of Oscorp's toxic waste dumps...well she had been the first to go. Her and children from nearly every family in the neighborhood.
My shadow's the only one who walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then, I walk alone~
Then went his mother. She was so grief-stricken by his sister's death that she went into depression. She didn't eat, she didn't sleep, and eventually the water got to her too. They were buried only a few months apart.
I'm walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the borderline
Of the edge, and where I walk alone
His middle brother, three years older than him, went into a rage about the water. He was young, but old enough to do something about it. He went to the station and when they didn't do anything, he made a fuss. He wrote letters to the city board, protested in front of stations and then one day, they took him to jail. He was beat to death two days later, just a few hours before his bail was accepted.
Read between the lines
What's fucked up, and everything's alright
Check my vital signs
To know I'm still alive, and I walk alone
Eventually, the water was fixed. It became, not the cleanest, but better. Babies stopped dying. People were surviving. 
Then the riots started.
People were angry. Everyone hated the police, the officers that patrolled the streets everyday yet did nothing to stop everyday crime. Fights would break out, shots would be fired, and eventually his sister, his oldest sister, got caught in the crossfire.
Someone had stolen her school bag. She asked the police officer nearby if he'd seen who'd taken it. She'd had her hands in her pockets.
He thought she had a gun.
He shot her.
And then there were three.
I walk alone, I walk alone
I walk alone, I walk alone
His father didn't let anything stop him. After his sister's death, he started using his job to make a difference. He spoke out about Osborne on the radio every day. He rallied people together, he told them not to take what was going on in the community.
And then Osborne himself came after him.
He took down his radio station, burnt it to the ground, and threw his father into jail. The poor old man couldn't stand it. He'd lost his wife, most of his kids...the stress was too much. Within months, he'd died too.
It was just Hobie and his brother left.
Him and Abe against the world.
My shadow's the only one who walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then, I walk alone~
Abe did a lot to take care of him. He sold their old, rackety house for a tiny apartment. He worked odd jobs day and night, trying to provide for Hobie. Instead of taking the risk of sending him to school, Abe taught Hobie at home. Especially math and science, something both of the boys shared a love for.
They grew close. Hobie loved his older brother, more than anything in the world. He looked up to him.
He wanted to be like him.
So of course, when his brother started pasting up punk posters next to the couch, bringing home crazy-looking albums and sporting spiked jackets, Hobie couldn't help but want to follow in his footsteps. 
Even now, while he stared at his brother in such adoration, bundled up in blankets, half-asleep while Abe sang, he wanted to be like him. Tall, strong, always looking forward. A rock. A steady, strong, beautiful rock.
That's what he wanted to be.
I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I'm the only one, and I walk alone~
Abe finished, setting the guitar down with a sigh, gaze meeting his little brother's again. "How was that? I've improved, haven't I?"
Hobie practically jumped into his brother's arms to give him a hug. "Can you sing it again?" He asked tentatively, picking up the guitar.
"Aww, Hobes! I'm not doing that all again!" Abe said, shaking his head with a laugh. When he saw his brother's pleading expression though, he rolled his eyes. "Ugh. Fine. Ya little brat." He pushed Hobie off playfully before pulling up the guitar again and grinning a toothy grin.
_________________
10.5 years later
_________________
Hobie woke up with a gasp, sitting up straight. His face was wet, cheeks tearstained. What was that?
Abe...he'd completely forgotten about that memory. Hearing his favorite song for the first time. He held his chest tightly, taking deep, shaky breaths. Where was he?
Knocked out in an alleyway...he barely remembered what'd happened. The last thing he could remember was slamming into the wall, falling to the ground, and completely knocking out.
Except...something else had happened. It was only then when Hobie noticed his suit, which was newly black, with white lines. His jacket had disappeared, and the spikes that had used to be a part of it were attached to his suit instead. He pulled at his mask...but it wouldn't come off. It was stuck.
Shit.
He felt completely disoriented, that dream-no memory, had thrown him off. Of all the times he could've recalled that, it had to be now. Of all the times...
He missed his brother. When he reached his hand up to feel his mask, he felt it was wet. He'd been crying. But he'd also been knocked out.
What the hell?
It had to be the Venom. It was talking to him again...changing him. He couldn't let it take over again. He had to stay strong. Not just for himself, but for you.
He had to be strong.
Just like Abe had been.
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Full Fanfiction being written here:
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fiepige · 9 months
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Don't even get me started on the way Miles and Hobie exchange looks when Hobie just said "Good" to being told by Jess that he wasn't helping.
That right there is a look of solidarity, Hobie's last way of telling Miles, I'm on your side, you're not in this alone. Which is what gives Miles the courage he needed to stand his ground towards Miguel!
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Just look at the way Hobie's smiling and looking at Miles when he's finally standing his ground and calling Miguel out!
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It only lasts a few seconds but it's just so important to me! Hobie truly had Miles' back the entire way!
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couldntsave · 10 months
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thinking abt gwen and hobie and what his community means and meant to her, how cool she thinks he is, how kind, how fucking smart. she ADORES hobie, dude. she thinks he's the coolest ever. he's her best friend, right alongside miles. she'd do just about anything he asked and considers him the best person she knows
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xbellaxcarolinax · 10 months
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imagine Miguel and trying to stay quiet but he’s hell bent on getting you to make noise for him so he starts working HARDER and biting you to get you to moan for him — 🥵🥵🥵
Hope you like <3
NSFW under the cut
...
You wanted to scream, your throat tight with pressure.
You fought to keep it together, slapping a hand over your mouth while you obediently bounced on Miguel’s cock. This position was always a mission, your thighs spread a little too wide to accommodate him, his large cock reaching parts deep within you that you didn't know were possible. 
He had a bruising hold on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he guided you at the speed he wanted. 
“Too quiet,” he grunted in protest, eyes trained on your face, “you know I hate it when you’re quiet.” 
“Y-you know damn well why I’m quiet.” You argued weakly, your hands flying to grip his shoulders tightly, nails biting into his tanned skin. You tossed your head back at a particularly intense thrust, chest heaving and pussy throbbing with need and arousal. 
Miguel made a noise of disapproval at your words, brows furrowed as he concentrated, his hand now roaming to grasp one of your tits.
“Don’t care.” Of course, he didn’t.
You were in one of the restrooms at HQ, shoved into a stall that barely held enough space for the width of Miguel’s broad shoulders, let alone the both of you for a quick fuck session. It was a tight fit, even when he sat on the lid of the toilet, forcing you over his lap with a simple tug of your waist.
Not the most convenient place to be in a compromising position. 
“Y-you should,” you whimpered, biting your lip at the delicious stretch of him, “a-anyone could walk in and hear.”
“Don’t care,” he repeated roughly, his red eyes observing the way you were creaming over his cock, “wanna hear you.” He grabbed you by the nape suddenly, pressing you against him so that he had complete access to your pretty neck.
He began to nose at the skin, inhaling the scent of your floral perfume mixed with the sweat of the current activity, before sucking a bruise. You moaned as he nibbled at your neck, gently at first, tugging and licking before he got the mark to his desired shade. The area bloomed with color, bright red, and angry.
“That’s it,” he cooed, grinning against your neck when more whimpers fell from your lips, “let me hear you." You choked out a moan, biting your lip as he continued to spear you in all the right ways, his hands gripping the bottom of your thighs to easily lift you up, only to slam you back down again. 
You arms snaked around his sweat slicked shoulders, your fingers gripping his hair as you cried out—finally—your achy cunt coating you both in your slick.
"Fuck," you cried, your eyes glazing over with tears, his cock hitting the perfect spot, "M-miguel!"
He hummed, licking a stripe down your neck before sinking his fangs into you, piercing through your skin at a superficial level, but he knew it'd be enough.
You came with a loud moan, gushing all over his cock, your juices running down his length and over his thighs. He didn't stop bouncing you on his cock, chasing his own pleasure. Your slick pussy pulsated over him, the wetness helping to glide easily in and out of you. 
"Fuck," he groaned, licking the metallic taste off your neck as he came deep inside, shoving his hips tightly against yours, "goddamn."
You dropped your forehead on his shoulder, catching your breath. Your hips ached from the position and you knew you'd be feeling the ache of your muscles and cunt for a few days.
Miguel removed his hold from under your thighs, wrapping his arms around your waist. He felt your rapid heart beat on his chest and smiled, nuzzling his face in your hair. 
"Oi!" Hobie's distinct voice echoed into the restroom, "you both done havin' a shag?" You went rigid in Miguel's arms, shrinking against his chest in pure mortification.
"Fuck off, Hobie," Miguel growled, slamming a fist against the wall of the stall to make a point. 
"Just tryin' to wash my hands boss." he chuckled, his boots squeaking under the linoleum floors.  The faucet goes off for a moment, then the paper towel dispenser before Hobie leaves. "Clean up after yourselves, yeah?"
You groaned when you heard the bathroom door swing closed, keeping yourself tight against Miguel as if he’d shield you from the embarrassment. His cock was nestled comfortably inside you, some of his seed slipping out as it softened. 
“I hate you,” you said with no bite, your words muffled by his skin. You heard him breathe deeply before he pressed a kiss over your hair.
“I hate you, too.” He said affectionately.
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jupipedia · 8 months
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neither here nor there ! — h. brown. ↳ " face down, ass up, that's the way i like getting fucked ! " ↳ content warning : nsfw ( minors do not interact. ), unprotected s*x, marking, pet names ( lovie, sweetheart, etc. ), overst*mulation, multiple org*sms, forced org*sms ( ? ), cre*mpie, slight or*l ( fem. receiving. ), c*m eating, not proof read lol, etc. ↳ dedicated to: @starsoir !
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you'd love to pretend that you don't know how you got where you were, but you knew exactly how you ended up in this position; face down with your ass in the air as hobie brown fucked you mindlessly.
you were dressed in one of the most revealing dresses ever made and had one goal in mind : fuck hobie brown.
you were more than the average groupie, having actually listened and enjoyed his band before you even thought of fucking him. your desire was sparked when you attended one of his gigs on a whim, wanting to listen to good music as you got a drink at your local bar. at one point, you made your way to the front of the crowd, careful not to spill your drink on anyone as you slipped through the dense ocean of bodies. once you reached the front, hobie brown stood in all his anarchist glory, shredding away on his electric guitar and quickly sparking your interest.
since then, you've made it a mission to be the hottest girl to ever touch the same sheets as the man. you kept up to date on his pop up shows, his appearances, and the new music his band would release every now and then.
tonight, you finally captured his attention when you stood at the front of the crowd, all dolled up and singing the lyrics to his songs. your dress left little to the imagination and piqued his interest once the two of you made eye contact as you continued to lip sync along to the word, smiling sultrily as you gazed up at him.
his set was barely finished as he removed his guitar from torso, jumped into the crowd, and made his way to the door with your wrist latched in his hold, loose enough for you to pull away if you weren't interested. he could barely keep his hands off of you as he pulled you into the back of the car, his driver raising the partition once his hands began to lower to the swell of your ass. his fingers wandered close to your heat, only to stop at your panty line, affectively teasing you as the two of engaged in a fighting kiss. his kiss was hard, having no care for the lack of air in his lung as he continued to pull you closer to him. your tongue pushed against his, marveling at the cold metal ball in the center of his appendage.
the car was not parked when hobie pulled you out of it, fixing your tousled hair before pulling you through the lobby of the hotel and into the elevator. the doors hadn't closed and his lips were already back on you, hot kisses being pressed into the crook of your neck.
his eagerness took you aback, surprised that such a simple act of knowing his lyrics was enough to rile him up so much. you knew the skimpy outfit had to play a grander part in things as he tugged on it slightly, almost as if he was holding himself back from ripping off of you right in the elevator.
"leng ting you are," he mumbled against your skin, kitten licking over the small bruises he created from him nipping at your skin.
"i try," your words are barely heard as you suddenly become breathless. this is the first time you'd really spoken, other than him ensuring that you wanted to spend the night with him. you'd been to preoccupied with each other's lips that you hadn't much time to ask any questions, let alone exchange compliments.
"you do a lot more than try, lovie. didn't know i had fans as beautiful as you. or as devout. 's cute watching my lyrics fall from your pretty lips," he replied, returning to task of marking every inch of your skin, hands grasping your ass in a bruising hold as he pulled you closer to him.
"what can i say, they're good lyrics," you mutter, words coming out breathless as he sucked on the spot just below your ear.
the elevator doors opened and he wasted no time pulling you in the direction of his room, wanting nothing but to have his way with you. he reached his room, opening the door and pulling you in. you'd barely finished removing your heels when he propped you up against the door, fingers making quick work of your dress and thong.
which led you to your current position, face pushed deep into the blankets as your ass was propped up in the air as hobie fucked your into cunt. his strokes were deep and forceful as you jerked forward each time he entered you. his veined cock scraped the walls of your tight pussy, evoking whines and moans from you and, surprisingly, hobie.
you imagined that he'd be a grunter or groaner but you were even happier to find out that he was a whiner. they weren't high pitched by any means but the whiny lilt in his remark heightened your already overspilling arousal. in your previous position, his mouth had been next to your ear, allowing you to hear the praise loud and clear. while this current position put a bit of distance between the two of you, you were still able to make out his whines when they weren't drowned out by your own noises.
"f-feel so good around my cock. so fucking good," he grunts out, angling his body differently, causing the head of his cock to bump against your cervix. you blindly reached back and pushed futilely at his pelvis, running from his deep strokes. "don't tell me it's too much for you, sweetheart."
"so deep! too deep," you mewled, still pushing him away without result. the pleasure was beyond overwhelming. your mind clouded as you continued to take the pleasure, too lost in it to speak or breathe properly. his cologne and natural musk lingered through the air, suffocating you in his presence.
your legs soon begin to mimic the twitch of your cunt as your orgasm began to build. your eyes welled with tears at the euphoric pressure filling your stomach.
"go on and cum for me, yeah?" hobie draped himself over your frame, whispering softly in your ear. the return of his aroused whines so close to your ear did nothing but push you closer to the edge, leaving you teetering on the edge of a release.
hobie's hand slid down your abdomen, using his fore and middle finger to draw circles on your clit and effectively bringing you to an earth shattering release. you cry out his name, tone doused in pleasure as you threw your head back to rest upon his shoulder. he continued to pump into you, prolonging your high. almost as if your orgasm was a catalyst, hobie's hips jerked and he stilled, pouring his cum into you warm pussy.
as your orgasm subsided, hobie wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you up to rest against his chest before restarting his ministrations. you were overstimulated as you tried to escape his grasp, hoping for a quick break before continuing.
"you thought we were finished? nah, i could go all night with you," he said, holding you firm against his torso as he buried himself snug into your core. you dug your nails into his forearm, attempting to ground yourself as you melted due to the immense pleasure.
this position only allowed hobie to move minimally, but he sat snug against your cervix, each thrust pushing against it in a pleasurable way. he drew shallow gasps from you as you tried to steady your breathing. one of his hands groped at your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers causing you to tighten around him. he chuckled into your neck as he fucked his seed back into you, relishing in the hot feeling of your vice.
"gonna give me another one, yeah. hmm, pretty girl?" he teased, pinching your nipple and quicken the pace of his finger on your clit. he smirked at the release of your pitchy moans before going back to kiss on your neck.
"'m gonna cum. please! gonna cum!" you wailed, withering in his hold as you began to release. you felt his nod and your entire body shook from the intensity of your orgasm. hobie whispered sweet nothings in your ear before he allowed himself to drown in his own pleasure.
"fuck, you feel so good. hmm. fuck, had my eyes on you since you stepped to the front of the crowd. leng ting singing all m'lyrics. nearly came in my jeans," he admitted in between whines. his grip tightened on you as his moans reached a crescendo and his seed spilled into you.
his hold on you loosened but didn't drop completely as he came down from his high. his breath tickled your ear as he tried to calm himself, savoring the warmth of your walls. he released you and you fell onto your chest, ass still propped in the air as he shifted to the foot of the bed.
"hobie, please," you begged, wanting nothing but rest as he inserted his head between your thighs and lapped at your core, determined to eat your mixed essence from your used cunt.
"jus' cleaning you, pretty," he mumbled, mouth full and tongue busy. your hands made their way to his wicks as his tongue dove into your pussy. the wet muscle scooped his cum out of your entrance, rubbing perfectly against your walls. you felt a foreign pressure rise and you tugged lightly at the man's head, wanting to remove him from your core before you came.
"hobie, s'too much," you whined with no avail as he sucked on your clit, changing his mission from eating your cum to making you release once again.
this release was a bit different as short streams of liquid shot from your pussy and into his welcoming mouth. he hummed as he slurped into your cunt, ignoring your attempts at pushing his head away until he decided he was finished.
he left his position and crawled up toward the pillows, pulling you into his chest as he laid back.
"we can talk in morning, yeah? wanna get to know you a bit," he muttered, exhaustion prevalent in his tone as his spoke with eyes closed. you couldn't reply as you slipped into a sleeping state.
mission accomplished.
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© jupipedia. do not repost, plagiarized, or falsely claim my work. likes, comments, and reblogs are welcome!
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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months
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Hello! I loved your last hobie fic btw it was really good!!
Imagine that in hobies universe you died but when he travels to miles universe he sees you alive 😭 and then the reader introduces themselves to him the same way they did in his universe
Keep feeding us with these ATSV fics 😈😈
Have a great day!!!
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Thank you for enjoying my Hobie Brown stuff anon cuz he’s been invading my mind recently. I hope to god this is okay for ya. 🦦
Hobie remembered first meeting you as though it were yesterday, you were within an alleyway vandalising the walls with your spray paint, he happened to be passing by when one of your masterpieces caught his eye; it was of him…well him as Spider-Man clocking a cartoonish Osborne -appropriately adorned with devil horns and a tail- in the head with his eyes crossed out in red spray paint as though he were dead.
It got a good chuckle out of him that was for sure and from that alone he knew he had to know you more on a personal level. ‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ He asked aloud, making you jolt, you were pretty sure you had chosen a spot where you weren’t going to get caught by the authorities or those that’d grass you up for expressing how you truly felt about Osborne and all those just like him. You shrugged, looking up at your finished product before looking back over at Hobie, ‘dunno yet,’ you told him truthfully, ‘my working titles are either anarchy incarnate or death to capitalism.’
Hobie hummed in approval, but he thought you could do better, ‘how about anarchy is the death of capitalism?’ He suggested and he couldn’t never forget the light in your eyes upon hearing his working title, that in the midst of your excitement you had grabbed him by the arm, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it, you’re a genius man!’ You cried before realising what you did and immediately removed your hand from his arm, ‘sorry about that.’ Hobie dismissed your apology by slinging an arm over your shoulder. ‘Nah, don’t give me that shit, you shouldn’t have to apologise for being yourself for that’s what they want you to do.’
‘I don’t think I ever got your name.’ You said. ‘Hobie. Hobie brown and may I get to know the name of the amazing artist behind this.’ Hobie gestured to the spray painting. ‘Y/n l/n.’ You replied. ‘Well y/n, I think we’re going to get along quite well.’ And you did.
So when your untimely death happened, Hobie felt as though he were Achilles having lost his Patroclus. He cradled your body into his arms even long after you had said your final words, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’ and much longer after it had already gone cold. You had told him that you were heading out to go spray paint with some people you’ve met and the worst soon came when despite knowing that you didn’t have to, you still went out of your way to act as a distraction so that the rest may escape; which resulted in the way that it did.He knew he should’ve gone with you that day because then maybe you would still be alive and taking the piss out of him for worrying about you but he didn’t, so you weren’t.
Ever since then Hobie had made it his goal to keep fighting for not only his chase but yours as well in your memory. He made you a memorial in the exact same place where you first met, always paying it a visit whenever he felt as though he needed you with him, which has lead him to start talking to your spray pairings as though they were actually you. There was without a shadow of a doubt that you were quite possibly one of the greatest artists to have ever lived, alongside with being an avid inspiration to many to the youths who felt as though they had no way of expressing themselves when feeling slighted by the society they were born in. Hell you even inspired him! So much so that there were a multitude of songs he would perform that depicted a individual with stardust in their eyes, a rebellious fire in their heart and a insatiably need to insight the themes of anarchy within anything they touched.
After your death Hobie kept a good portion of your things; such as your spray cans that would never get used, your clothes that still clung onto the very last essence of you much like he did and even kept the picture you took together after helping you finish a project you had been wanting to pursue for a long while; and who would’ve thought that it would be him, not as Spider-Man, just good old Hobie Brown with the message, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’
So when he caught himself walking down a alleyway much like he did long ago but this time in a completely new place, he felt as though he was being hit with a wave of de ja vu when his ears picked up on the familiar hissing sound of a spray can. It was like he was back there again and if his memory serves him right, he knew what was to come next the moment he, Gwen and Miles made it into a clearing where they were greeted with the sight of someone’s back as they were deeply engrossed with their own handy work. ‘You’re going to love them Hobie, they’re like super cool and awesome.’ Gwen told him but her words went in one ear and out the next as he stared up at the spray painting of Miles as Spider-Man mid swing; it was beautiful without a doubt but they style in which it was drawn was all too familiar.
‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ Hobie had said without realising it until you jolted before turning to look directly at him, regaining your composure, ‘dunno yet.’ You shrugged and your voice sounded like an echo to the past for Hobie who so desperately wanted to pinch himself in that moment. ‘my working titles are either a bright new era or rising above all expectations.’ Hobie didn’t say anything for he knew he was going to say something that would only scare you away, just because you were another version of his y/n didn’t mean you shared the same memories; to you, he was just another spider-man from another reality, he wasn’t your Hobie despite how he wish he was but he knew he couldn’t put that on you.
He also couldn’t blame you for being alive while his version of you was dead. It wouldn’t be fair on you for being blamed for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with and it wouldn’t be fair on him either, as despite how many times he made himself believe that he has accepted your death, his heart would remind him that he truly hadn’t. You were such a pivotal part of his life that he couldn’t seem to let go of. ‘Hmm, both titles sound cool but I think we can do better.’ Miles pipped up, breaking Hobie out of his headspace that was running rampant with all the best memories you shared together. ‘How about…the bright new era of rising above all expectations?’ Hobie interjected.
You made a face at the suggestion before a wide smile spread across your face as you lost yourself in your excitement and grabbed ahold of his arm like you did when your first met, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it! You’re a genius dude, thank you.’ But before you could remove your hand from his arm, Hobie grasped your hand and held it firmly. ‘I don’t believe I told you my name, it’s Hobie by the way.’ Your excused his actions as an exchange of formal greeting and grasped onto his hand with the same about of force. ‘Nice to meet you Hobie, I’m y/n.’
‘I know’ is what Hobie desperately wanted to say but kept it all contained under a strained smile.
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mcondance · 10 months
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hobie 🕷️🎸: 1 video
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the video's dark. looks like it was shot somewhere that definitely reeks. but with your brightness all the way up, what's going on in the video.. is crystal fucking clear.
"i tried to wait, swear i did love, but i couldn't. couldn't stop thinkin' about you, and your pretty cunt." he’s not shy. even needy, he’s cocky and unashamed of what he’s doing. he’s got his hand wrapped around his cock, spider suit unzipped and pants unbuttoned, only hanging onto his waist because of his studded belt. his slim frame looks beautiful.
he's jerking himself off in a busted back alley, camera propped up on a window sill. his pretty tip is already leaking pre-cum, lithe fingers coming up to swipe it down, to make the slide easier.
"got hard thinkin' about you, had to dip off n' take care of it." he flashes a wicked smile, throwing his head back, exposing his neck. his hips cant into his fist, fucking the little circle he makes knowing he wishes he was fucking you instead.
"god, 'm just a fuckin' perv, ain i? pants pulled down in an alley, fuckin' my fist for you?" he chuckles, bringing his eyes down to gaze at the camera, and then down at his cock.
"shit, wish it was you, doll." he speeds up, moaning shakily. "'s not wet enough, need your pretty pussy," he groans. his hand leaves his cock, coming up to his mouth, and he spits, trying the best he can to simulate the wet warmth of your cunt. he looks so gorgeous, with his pretty dick with it’s pretty upward curve held tight in his hand.
he starts his pace again, fucking his fist with visions of you on your knees doing it for him instead flying through his mind, the sound of his own hand moving against his dick loud and unmistakable. he’s desperate, whiney, broken moans falling from his lips. he looks so good, happy trail just barely visible. his taut stomach flexes with his every thrust, the expanse of pretty brown skin looking beautiful even with the darkness of the video.
lips parted and slick with spit, dick hard and leaking for you, he looks the image of a god. your god. and yet, he’s pleading to you, begging for salvation that he knows he won’t receive until he gets back home. his fist’ll have to do for now.
and it does, as long as he keeps you in the forefront of his mind. and he does.
“‘m close already,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on where his cock disappears into his hand and comes out on the other side, swiping his thumb over his pretty brown tip. “shit, you’d make me cum so hard, know you would. jerk me so good i’d be shootin’ blanks.” he can’t help but laugh again, breathless and wanting.
“cum with me, yeah? know you’ve been touchin’ yourself to this— fuck, wish it was me instead. should be me, with my hands all over you.” his thrusts pick up, his hand speeds up too.
“‘m g’na cum, please cum with me, love, don’t w’na cum alone,” he whines, deep and sincere. “fuckfuckfuck,” he spills into his hand, moaning loud, throwing his head back again. he rambles mixed together letters of your name and wishes that you were here, that you were the one making him bust.
he comes down with a heaving chest, hand still stroking slowly at his cock. laughs start to rack through him, his eyes focusing back on his camera. wiping his hand off on a tattered piece of fabric with a blissed out look on his face, he pulls his suit back up and fixes his pants.
“hope you liked it, love,” is all he says before he ends the video, pretty face frozen on your phone screen.
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bruisedboys · 11 months
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hobie brown loves to make you flustered!! like it’s his favourite thing!!! seeing you get all hot in the cheeks when he makes some flirty comment. y’look ravishing today, love in his thick accent. cue you stumbling through a thank you and desperately avoiding looking him in the eye. that’s the other thing!!! he will look you straight in the eye when he’s talking to you. it’s totally intimidating and a little (a lot) attractive. it tells you he’s paying attention to you and isn’t distracted by anything or anyone else. he wants to listen to you and talk to you. he wants to hear what you’ve got to say.
also!!! he’s not really a pda guy I feel like. mostly because he doesn’t want to embarrass you in front of other people but also, it just doesn’t appeal to him? he doesn’t see the point in showing everyone you’re his, they should already know by now, anyway. he likes to save the intimate stuff for when it’s just you and him, y’know? so when you’re alone boyyy does he get handsy …
you’re at the kitchen counter eating cereal in the morning and he comes up behind you out of nowhere (his spider powers mean he’s very quiet on his feet when he wants to be) and just scoops you into a hug, his arms locking around your waist. you drop your spoon into your bowl in surprise and milk splashes everywhere. you scold him and try to get up for a paper towel but he’s got an iron grip and does not want to let go. he ignored your struggling, burying his face in your neck with a muttered, s’no use crying over spilt milk, babe in his raspy I-just-woke-up voice. you’re watching a movie on the couch and he’s got his arm around your waist, his hand under your shirt and squeezing at the flesh of your hip. or on your thigh, rubbing circles into your jeans. he’s kissing you and both of his big hands are cupping your jaw, tilting you upwards for a better angle, because he’s so tall that even if you’re tall too he still towers over you.
(also I cannot stop thinking about how big his hands are. how he’d always have one on your waist or hip or the small of your back. how he’d squeeze your hip when he wants your attention or how he cups your face with his abnormally large hand when he pulls you in for a kiss.)
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dizscreams · 11 months
Note
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT81ra4ov/
Hii! I've been binge reading most of ur fics, especially ur Hobie Brown ones :)) I was wondering if you could pls write one based off this tiktok, idk I feel like he'd give the most comforting hugs 😭 maybe the readers having a bad day and Hobie has to put up with it for the most part and she realizes how bad she's acting up and feels awful about it
STOP THIS TREND IS SO SWEET :(
MY BABY !
— Hobie Brown ★
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PAIRING: Hobie Brown x GN!Reader
A/N: this helped me w my motivation hdjshfh
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“Hey love, you alright?” Your boyfriend, who was sitting on your bed, greeted you as you entered your bedroom. You looked upset and angry as you flopped down on the bed. “ ‘M fine, Hobie,” you grumbled your reply as you put your face into your pillow.
“You don’t look fine.” He put his hand on your back and rubbed soothing circles on it before you swatted his hand away. “I’m fine,” you told him sternly, “I just want to take a nap.”
“You want me to take one with ya?”
“No, I want to be alone.”
You said the last part quite harshly and Hobie raised an eyebrow. He got up off of the bed and left the room muttering a ‘fine then’. He went into the living room and slumped down on the couch. Hobie bounced his foot up and down as he searched for something to watch on the TV.
He didn’t want to leave you alone, he wanted to comfort you. The fact that you didn’t want him around you hurt, but he also understood you just needed to calm down a bit. So, for half of the afternoon he sat on the couch while on his phone and half watching the tv.
That didn’t stop him from looking at your bedroom door and quietly going in the room to check on you every now and then, though. At one point you had finally come out of the room but you barely even looked at Hobie and when he tried to make conversation you brushed him off.
“Hungry?” He asked as he watched you rummage through the refrigerator.
“Yep.”
Hobie stood up and walked towards you. “Want me to make you somethin?” He asked, stretching.
“I’m fine, Hobie.” You slammed the refrigerator door and went back into your room. Hobie tilted his head back and let out a sigh as he walked back to the couch and sat on it. He wanted to know what was the matter with you but he didn’t want to risk making you even more mad.
The only reason he was being patient was because he knew you. He knew you’d come around.. eventually! He debated going back to his own dimension a couple thousand times while he was waiting but he didn’t want to leave you.
Eventually ended up being in the evening when Hobie was about to doze off on the couch.
You on the other hand couldn’t sleep. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the way you had treated your boyfriend. So, you slowly got up and opened your bedroom door to take a peak into the living room. You saw him sprawled out on the couch looking half awake.
You left the bedroom completely and walked over to the couch. “Hobie,” you asked quietly as you slightly shook him, “You awake?” He opened his eyes all the way and nodded, “Yeah, ‘M awake doll.” You smiled softly and sat at the end of the couch. “I’m sorry I’ve been a dick today.” You gave him a sad look and he gave you a small smile in return. “C’mere,” he said as he shifted his position to sit back against the couch instead of laying across it. You made your way over to him and sat right next to him, leaning into his side.
You put your head on his shoulder and he put his arms around your middle. “I’m sorry, Hobie.” He chuckled, “t’s alright, love. Promise.” You shook your head, “It’s not.” You hugged him tighter and his smile only grew. “It is.”
You littered small kisses across his jaw and neck. “I really am sorry, baby. You’re too good to me,” you said against his skin. He shook his head and kissed the top of yours. “You wanna talk about why you’ve been in a mood all day?”
You smiled. and ranted to him while he traced shapes along your back.
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miguel-ohara-wifey · 9 months
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Spiderverse men when they’re sexually frustrated
Rating: 18+
Peter B Parker
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-He’s the best at hiding it, he gets quieter. And when he does speak his on brand dry deflections get notably bitchier. Before you porn was how he got off. It was a means to an end, there wasn’t anything sexy he found. He just needed a release then he’d go about his day.
-But you, you are sexy. With you it’s a delicious spiral of physical and emotional intimacy only you two shared. And when he wanted more he needed more.
-His pants would get tighter just being in the same room as you, his eyes would fall to his favorite parts of you to grab onto during the act. He’d press his touch to linger longer on your skin. Peter would tenderly dry hump you when you’d let him get that close. Sending every wordless signal in the book that he wants you, he needs you.
-If that doesn’t send the message, he’ll cheekily say hes got something to show you in your bedroom. Tenderly leashing his grip onto your hend as he leads you. Once that doors closed. He kisses you with a fervent hunger.
-Violently rubbing his fingers against your skin, aggressively hammering his hips into yours. Eating away at your lips, and in between gasps he’d say.
“Jesus baby, you gonna tease me without even trying?…do you have any idea what this body does to me…?”
Miguel O’Hara
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-This man isn’t the least bit subtle, it would just take him a while to realize. He’s not a man who lets his guard down easily. Even when he’s in a committed physical and emotional relationship. His baggage often intersects between every milestone of your relationship.
-However when the itch in his mind and dick isn’t scratched for enough. He acts, he gets grabby. Massaging the flush of your ass and even getting hold of your pussy. He doesn’t need to ask when his fingers do all the talking for him.
-If you playfully deny him, he’ll get even angrier. Lashing out more at the spider society members, refusing to eat or drink. Zeroing in on his work praying the audio cues of his holographic computers can drown out the scream of sexual fantasies his head is playing. How desperately he needs you more than sleep and air.
-When you do finally let him hit, foreplay is the name of the game. He just needs to satiate the surface level lust of his fangs tasting the flesh of your throat. Your whimpering and cries for his cock when you denied him earlier.
-Its his payback time as what you done to him he does back ten fold. Denying you his length exploring your insides. Even to the point of you crying, he’d laugh as he humps you with the same fervor he preforms during sex.
“What happened?…thought you didn’t want this…thought my cock rearranging your insides as my tongue takes control of your mouth wasn’t what you needed? Beg for it more and I’ll consider it…”
Hobie Brown
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-Hobies in tune with himself, he knows the burning sensations weaved into his muscles for your touch is cause you two haven’t had much alone time lately. Even if you’re casual, he could go out and fuck someone else whose down. It wouldn’t be the same.
-Like his hands tightened around his cock, crafting friction with his violently shifting grip. His length has a mind of its own, it belongs to you and only you.
-He doesn’t sexually initiate usually, he lets you take the lead in the bedroom department. It’s not all about him and he takes no risks in potentially coercing you into sex. So weeks could pass when nothing happens between you too. And he’s trying to jerk himself off every other night.
-But when you finally go down on your knees, trying to undo his jean zipper. Is when he can finally relent. Tenderly combing his hand into your hair, massaging your scalp as you choke on his cock. He has to resist not giving out right when he feels your tongue on his foreskin.
-Your blowjobs are a thing of art, he creates new rips in his sheets by the violence of his fingernails digging into the fabric. Cause of how good the inside of your mouth feels around him.
“Christ love, Jesus Christ….you’re too good…fuck too good.”
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love-bitesx · 11 months
Text
: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader
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summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!
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“is it home-time already, darlin’?”
there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.
“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.
“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.
“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.
it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;
“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”
his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.
laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.
he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.
it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.
you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~
“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.
“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.
“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”
“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.
“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.
“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.
you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.
his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.
deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.
“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.
“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.
a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.
“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.
“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.
“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.
“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.
hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.
it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.
when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.
after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.
“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.
stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.
shit.
you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?
grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.
“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.
“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.
wait, above?
craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.
“spider-man?”
and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.
“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”
“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”
“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.
“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.
“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.
“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.
“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”
“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”
ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.
“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”
his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.
he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.
“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”
“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”
“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.
his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.
“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.
“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.
“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.
“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.
you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.
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“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.
“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.
“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”
the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.
“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”
“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.
he always did hate consistency, anyway.
“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.
“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.
“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.
“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.
“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.
turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.
it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.
he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.
but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.
he was fucked. well and truly.
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“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.
“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”
your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.
stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.
“what’s up?” you questioned.
“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.
you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.
“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”
it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.
“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.
“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.
untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.
“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”
and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?
shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.
insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.
“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.
gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.
“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.
“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.
“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”
he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.
“are you o—“
“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.
it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.
without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.
your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.
“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.
embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.
he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.
his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.
pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.
“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”
you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.
“like, a lot.”
he kissed you again. and again.
a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!
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angelltheninth · 10 months
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hello❤️ can I request a hobie brown x fem! reader soft make out sesh (no nsfw kinda wholesome and cute). not too spicy but reader gives him a hickey. maybe sub hobie pls.
bonus if it’s their first make out session 🥰
I love soft Hobie! And it will be the first make out session, just cause you used the cute emojis.
Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, making out, grinding, hickies, sitting on Hobie's lap
Word count: 0.5k
Ao3
A/N: I love cocky Hobie but I like him flustered too.
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"Comfortable?" You barely understood Hobie's question as you sat in his lap, his eyes briefly dropping down to see how well you fit there. Or maybe it was to avoid looking at you directly before he felt your lips on his full ones, soft as always, hungry for him in a way you never were before. He responded in kind, a small gasp fleeing from our lips when you felt his cold piercing pressing against your tongue.
The kiss deepened without either of you even noticing, it felt natural to be like this, with his hands tickling up and down your back, drawing noises from you as expertly as he did from his guitar. "You're shaking Hobie." You noted, immediately causing him to drop his hands to your hips, the wonderful sensations vanishing all at once.
As his face grew hotter under your curious gaze so did the tension grow thicker between you two, the need to eliminate this air between you two entirely mixed with equal amounts of anxiety in his chest. You could feel his heart pounding through his shirt, "No I ain't. That's... excitement."
"I know you when you're excited Hobie, it feels very different." You smiled as you ground your hips into his, "Nope. No excitement." But at least you got a hearty laugh out of him.
"Don't know why I'm so nervous. I swear I'm usually much smoother then this. You got my head spinning in every direction babe, so many songs blasting at once you know, its hard to focus on just one." So many feelings, things he wants to do any say to you, how choose one, which order should he go in? Does it even matter? He's made out before, in clubs, in alleyways, with many people too, he shouldn't feel like a nervous wreck now.
You took his hand off your hips, feeling his many rings against your skin before you bashfully put it on your chest. Hobie's mouth and eyes opened wide, "Not what you think, focus." He tried very hard to do so and clear his mind. Focus on... your heartbeat, your heart which beat a million miles an hour under his hand. "I'm nervous too. We can be a nervous mess together."
"Well they say everything always better when you're not doing it alone." He wiggled his eyebrows, a playful smirk now wide on his face. "Can we try this again? I promise you'll be the one shaking after this one." Trying to fake confidante usually came easily to him, this time Hobie was struggling hard, his eyes darting around the room, the posters, your flustered face which surely mirrored his, your lips drawing ever closer. His heartbeat rang loud in his ears before it was drowned out by the sounds of your moans, and his own joining soon after.
What do you do when you don't like a song? You play a better, louder one, and this was certainly preferable to both of you, the pleased each of you made as your lips settled into a rhythm.
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konigenblobbity · 10 months
Text
Flirty and Teasing
Hobie x Spidey!F!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, non-established relationship, flirting, teasing
Summary: Hobie always gets a laugh at making you blush, with his teasing gestures or flirtatious words. You get the laugh this time as you get him speechless.
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Hobie always loves flirting and teasing you, enjoying the way your face turns red and you avoid eye contact with him. At times even whispering his flirty thoughts in your ear when the others were around. Chuckling as you get all shy and the others begin to ask what’s going on. Watching you try to brush them off while you’re clearly falling apart makes him feel pride.
He was always like this, even before you two got close. Over time he learned more about how to get under your skin, you never being able to retort back with any smart remarks. That was… until today.
You were walking down the halls of HQ, heading towards a meeting Miguel called. As Hobie spots you, he takes of his mask and then approaches you, he smirks before jokingly bumping your hip with his own. “Oi, what are you doin here?” You just smile, peeling off your mask, and say “Got a meeting with Miguel” rolling your eyes playfully.
“No way mate! Me too!” He says and wraps an arm around your shoulder, at his words you smile wide. “Really?” Your tone was excited, as much as he teased you, you loved being around Hobie and never liked the idea of going to a meeting with Miguel alone.
He then chuckles and shakes his head “Nah love I’m takin the piss. I just came in to hand over an anomaly” he places a hand on your head, softly ruffling your hair. You frown and swat away his hand, you look away from him, pouting your lips. All your excitement having left you by those words.
He chuckles and leans his head forward, trying to get a good look at your expression. He unwraps his arm from your neck and gently grabs your chin to turn your head. “Awww… love.” He spoke in a teasing tone, tilting his head to the side while giving you an exaggerated frown.
“Don’t get all pouty, makes me want to kiss those lips” he glances down at them and bites his own. He then gazed back up into your eyes, slightly narrowing his own. Waiting for you to turn red as usual, waiting for you to break his gaze and swat away his hand.
He’s caught by surprise when you grip at the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer against you. The smirk that grows on your face makes his eyes widen. “Yeah? Do it then.” You spoke with confidence, lowering your tone and then looking him up and down, as if ‘sizing him up’. “Kiss me” Those words made him blush… not at all expecting such a bold response.
When he’s silent you chuckle, grabbing his hand on your chin and moving it back to his side. You then smirk and walk off, putting your mask back on and leaving him in his shocked daze. It’s only when you’re a few meters away that he finally shakes his head, breaking from his frozen state and then yells after you.
“Be careful love! Next time I’ll take you up on that offer!”
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arachnoia · 9 months
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fan favorite | miguel o'hara
in which your little side hobby is being a cam girl, except things get messy when you’re your boss’s fan favorite
pairing- miguel o’hara x fem! reader
tags- nsfw, masterbating, size kink?, afab reader, idk how to make tags ! (perspective also changes from reader and miguel !)
———
“Ohh…Fuck I’m close,” You muttered, playing with your clit as you fingered it more and massaged your tits to the camera.
“Papí, please~” You bit your lip, moaning as much as you could satisfy your viewers. You glanced at the chat and flashed a quick smirk while adjusting your mask that only covered your eyes and nose bridge.
¡M2099 te envio 500 dólares! — “Eres tan bélla, mi hermosa”
You pushed your breasts together and stared at the camera seductively, biting your lip grabbing the nearest sex toy, and teasing your clit with it. “Mmmm fuck…”
Miguel bit his lip as he leaned back in his chair, extending the window to the live stream. He was in his office back in HQ trying to finish some work until he got the notification that you were streaming so he jumped on.
After a random night of feeling sex-deprived, he started searching for different things to jerk of to. Then he found you and he can’t help it. He’s addicted.
He’s addicted to the way you moan ever so breathlessly.
He’s addicted to the way you mutter sweet nothings quietly while almost reaching your high.
He’s even addicted to the way you stare at the camera as if you’re actually staring right at him, begging him to stuff his fat, fucking, hard cock down your tight little pussy. And don’t even get him started on the little spider tattoo you have on the right side of your ribcage.
He liked to think that you got it in honor of Spiderman because he’s Spiderman. The thought of that alone made him want to cum already.
He looked at your arched position and closed in on your soaked pussy, all swollen and red due to you abusing your clit in pleasure.
“Oh fuck, mami…” He started to pump his cock with the same speed you were flicking your clit, almost moaning in unison.
How he would love to have your pretty pink lips around his cock, sucking like your life depended on it.
How he would even live to bend you over and fuck you like the little slut you are for him, marveling over your plump ass.
How he would love to have your tiny hands scratching down his back for balance as he fucks you, small and breathlessly whimpering below him.
Just as he was going to cum, you let out an almost pornographic moan and licked your fingers clean as you winked at the camera.
“I’ll see you next time, hermosos. Besos~!”
He stared at you in awe as you shut off the live stream, still fantasizing about you.
It happened too quick and he was sent back to reality once the office was quiet. He looked down and frowned.
He was still hard.
———
Once you switched off the camera and made sure it was off, you groaned in annoyance, “So fucking annoying.”
You took down the backdrop from your living room, adjusted the curtains and laid down on your bed. You glanced at your watch and Spider suit hanging from your closet and covered your eyes. You felt kind of grateful that the apartment complex allowed you to make the walls soundproof. Ever since moving to Earth -928 and refusing to work for a huge corporation, you have needed the money. You went over to shower and put on some sweats.
You threw yourself on your mattress and grabbed your favorite plush. You started turning on your computer to watch your favorite show, feeling like you were finally alone in your thoughts.
That is until your watch started beeping.
You grabbed your blanket and frantically put your hair in a low ponytail, grabbing your watch to see what happened.
Lyla popped out and waved, “Hi Y/N!”
You couldn’t help but frown at her presence. She’s great but now was obviously not the time to call, “Yes, Lyla?”
“Miguel wanted me to remind you that you’re going to be with Jess and Hobie tomorrow. And don’t be late! Anyways bye!”
You nervously waved, “Bye..?”
You rolled your eyes. Of course, Miguel would bother you this late at night to bitch at you. It was annoying and you honestly didn’t care what he was going to tell you. You were going to try to be early.
———
“Y/L/N! You’re late!”
You winced at Miguel’s stern voice. You woke up late by accident and tried to sneak into his office where you were met with Hobie and Jessica who waved at you.
“Hi, Miguel!” You chirped, waving cheerfully. You wanted to die.
“Morning, Y/N,” Jess smiled.
You went over to her and hugged her gently, “How are they?”
“Well they kicked so far and-“
“Can you not? We have a mission to go on.”
You frowned at Miguel who sneered at you. In all honesty, he’s good-looking and you’d definitely fuck if he gave you the chance. You can see why some girls would like him, but that doesn’t stop him from being a dick.
He always would target you due to your carefree demeanor in contrast to his strict composure.
“Who spat on his breakfast?” Hobie frowned. He sat on top of a huge metal piece that was scattered throughout the space and was playing with a nearby cord.
“I expect every single one of you to follow my lead. Especially a certain someone, Y/L/N.” He narrowed his eyes toward you, which made you glare back.
Again, if he didn’t target you, you’d wanna fuck.
———
“What the fuck?”
You could see why you needed exactly four to handle the anomaly.
As everyone started to attack the anomaly, you started to swing at him full force, using some of your previous fighting experience to knock him down. It wasn’t until it hit back, throwing you across and heading your direction, and threw a sharp piece of metal, cutting the side of your ribcage. You yelled out in pain before you could even start attacking more.
“I fucking hate this,” you groaned and ripped the hole in your suit bigger, exposing your bloodied side a bit more by an inch to let the cut air out.
You felt bad just staying there until Hobie and Miguel apprehended the anomaly while Jess put it in a force shield.
“So incompetent…” Miguel rolled his eyes as he looked at you, “Can I? Or are you going to be a little bitch and-“
“Shut the fuck up.”
You glared at him, who smiled smugly. He was a cocky piece of shit sometimes.
He studied your injured figure, furrowing his eyebrows and squinting at your side to look at it further. He looked like the personification of confusion due to the look on his face.
“Go ahead, O’Hara,” you laid on your other side for him to see.
“Okay…” His usually stern voice had a bit of a crack and you felt like laughing a bit before he cleared his throat, “Lyla, scan her.”
Lyla popped out as her usually cheery self, “Hi Miguel! Hi Y/N! Ooo that does not look good-“
“Lyla.”
“Mkay!”
She let the orange-yellow holographic screen go through you, showing your results in a small screen. “Okay. Considering you just got off a mission, your heart rate is a bit high but get that cut checked.”
“Yeah, sure sure- SHIT!”
You felt completely off guard when you felt Miguel carry you. “It’s not like I could have you fail to walk too. Pendeja.”
Lyla giggled and smiled, “So-”
“Bye, Lyla.”
She rolled her eyes and saluted, disappearing a second later.
You rolled his eyes, peering over at Jess and Hobie who laughed at you. It was fucking embarrassing to be carried by your own boss who thinks you’re incompetent.
“Where are we going?” You breathed out. And before you knew it, you were at the infirmary at HQ, the area completely bare of people. You gasped as he immediately placed you on a cold metal table.
“Where do you think?”
You could slap the smug look off his face. You frowned and looked away. It didn’t help that he loves to make eye contact so every time you talked, you had to look into his ruby red eyes, which killed you inside.
“Take off your suit.”
You whipped your head in his direction and had your mouth agape, “What the fuck did you-“
“Oh shut up. It’s not in that way, I just want to see your cut. Plus it’s probably nothing I haven’t already seen before.”
You didn’t know what to say. His words were glazed with arrogance and it intimidated you more than usual.
You obliged and started stripping off your suit before laying back down. You felt slightly embarrassed since you were practically naked, only left in your bra and panties and it was in front of your boss.
He scanned your body, eyes staying on your ribcage, and pursed his lips. He had a pensive look on his face as he looked at you and sighed, “I’m going to clean your cut.”
Okay.
“Alright…”
You felt tense, literally could be able to cut the tension with a knife, “No mames, you need to be more careful,”
“Yeah, I guess…”
“Can’t have my hermosa hurt.”
You felt your blood run cold, peeking over to look at him and his smug face, “What?”
His face made you feel unsure of what he said. Maybe you misheard. Maybe you were delirious due to the injury. It wasn’t that bad but you did lose some blood.
“What did you just say?”
“Oh, nothing…”
You sighed a bit, shivers going down your spine as his fingertips brushed on your skin, cringing at the sting of the alcohol that was rubbing against your wound.
“Stings?”
“Yeah.”
His fingers danced around a particular spot, caressing it gently, “You have a nice tattoo here.”
“Mhm. Thank you.”
———
To say Miguel was baffled was an understatement.
You couldn’t be?
The annoying Spider he trains? Be the seductive streamer he watched every day?
That couldn’t be.
The tattoo looked almost too similar. It looked almost identical to the one she had. If it was you, he wouldn’t know how to feel.
Even though he targets you, he couldn’t help but feel a bit fond of you. You’re incredibly talented and flexible but you just have to argue back with him.
Your eyes were similar yes, but the thought was eating him up inside. He had to find out.
He can’t recall what he thought when he swung over to your quarters a few blocks away from headquarters in downtown Nueva York, and caught you playing with yourself behind closed doors. Moaning the exact way his favorite streamer would.
Such a whiny submissive voice.
He wanted to open the door, yes, but it would be too sudden. Too…
“Miguel?”
Your voice sounded tired, as if you were barely running a fucking marathon. He could hear your accelerated heartbeat, your small breaths while you spoke. And it made him want to go absolutely feral.
“Yes? Hi.”
He sounded shy, which was in complete contrast to his aggressive attitude.
“Why are you here?”
The entire apartment was dark, only being shined by moonlight from your wide windows overlooking Nueva York.
“Your cut…Is it fine?”
“Yeah…”
You looked up at him, nervously biting your lip, “Why are you here?”
He pursed his lips and ran his fingers through his hair, “I wanted to see how you were. Y’know, so I can know if you can perform well tomorrow…and later in the night.”
It wasn’t until he looked down that and saw you, still gripping the sex toy you had previously used on yourself.
He started walking closer to you slightly, “What do you have there?”
You appeared to get flustered and backed away from him.
“N-Nothing.”
He reached for your arm to see the pink dildo, his eyebrows raising and a smile playing at his lips to your flushed face.
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
The way he looked at you made you even more aroused. Your wistful expression made him hard as you helplessly gazed at him, your features accentuated beautifully by the moonlight.
With that, he kissed you, surprised by you dropping the dildo and kissing him passionately. He caressed your ass while doing so and lifted you up, carrying you to your bedroom.
He laid you on the bed, taking off your clothes and getting rid of his suit at a press of a button. Your expression was full of surprise and that stroked his ego immensely. He began caressing your breasts whilst kissing at your neck, leading down to your stomach and upper thighs. You threw your head back, clawing at his back as he started to flick his tongue against your clit.
“F-Fuck…Miguel!”
He felt you squirm in pleasure as he kept thrusting his tongue, his fangs teasing your folds. He couldn’t help but smile at your aroused nature.
As soon as you were going to cum already, you screamed, scratching at his shoulders, “Please…Miguel!”
He stood up, licking his fingers and smiling, “Eres tan dulce.”
Your eyes went to his his hard cock erected. The view made you whine and bite your lip, “You’re so big! Miguel, what if you don’t fit…”
“Don’t worry, mami. I’ll fit…”
This is what he wanted. And you looked so beautiful.
“Eres tan bélla, mi hermosa…”
And before he was going to thrust into you, finally diving into your wet, tight pussy, he woke up in a cold sweat. He looked over to his bedstand clock, marking it 2:34 in the morning.
He shifted around his sheets and felt his dick hard.
“Fuck…”
.
.
masterlist — part two
sol's notes- this was also just a drabble! thank you guys so much on everything and requests are open!!
tags - @ashanomly @obi-mom-kenobi @tojisbabygworl @toaffes
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