#Hobie Brown fic

[suuuupernovaaa]

Treat | Hobie Brown x f!Reader

Your innocent image is shattered when Hobie finds your hidden piercing.

Art credit.

Requested by @friedturtlewhispers. Essentially this, with a different piercing.

Mature. Smut. 18+.

The show hasn't been over for two minutes yet when I feel two strong hands on my waist, gripping tight and pulling me backwards. I nearly spill my drink on the already sticky floor of this underground bar as Hobie spins me around, and brings his lips crashing down on to mine.

"Oh!" I let out a muffled gasp of surprise, and feel Hobie's lips turn up into a smile as they still rest against mine. He pulls away, and takes my drink out of my hand. He brings it to his nose, and takes a sniff. "Gin?" He wrinkles his nose, and I open my mouth to defend my choice, but he's already downed it in one gulp.

"Let's get out of here," he says, grabbing my hand and pulling.

"Oh, okay - bye!" I say over my shoulder to the guy I was talking to at the bar - a big fan of the band, who stands with his jaw agape. I find it awkward to mention that I'm sort of, semi, casually but not really casually, dating a band member. It feels like bragging, probably because I'm so proud of it.

We're outside in the cool night air before I know it, and there's a ringing in my ears from the show.

"Did you like it?" Hobie asks as we turn right, heading towards my apartment.

"I always like it," I reply, squeezing his hand. "Why did we leave so fast?"

He leans over, smirking down at me. "I want to be alone with you."

--

As I flop back onto the couch, I hand Hobie the beer he requested. He takes it, and immediately leans forward, setting it on the coffee table. before even taking a drink.

Unable to help myself, I pick it up and place it on the coaster that was only inches away.

Hobie rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "You can't spend your whole life cleaning up after me."

I shrug. "Sure I can."

He bumps his shoulder into mine, and I lean back into him. Even though I enjoy spending the weekends out with Hobie, lingering in the bars after his shows until the wee hours, it feels so much more my speed to be back home before midnight, relaxed on the couch, just the two of us.

"This is nice," I say with a contented sigh. Hobie's feet are up on the coffee table, and my legs are crossed, one of my knees resting in his lap. He runs his fingers over my bare leg, starting on my shin and up over my knee. The lights are off, and the dull light of a horror film is the only thing lighting the room. I don't really like scary movies, but Hobie enjoys them as background noise.

I lay my head on his shoulder as his hand moves further up, brushing against the fabric of my skirt, and pausing for a moment as if to ask for permission.

We've been seeing each other for a while, enjoying each other's company and getting to know each other, but physically, it hasn't gone all that far. It almost has, a few times, but Hobie's always had some emergency to attend to.

I feel a little foolish... but I'd almost like to be able to call him my boyfriend before we go any further. I know we're adults, but the label means something to me, anyway.

When I don't protest, his fingers snake up under my skirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake. My breathing is coming more rapidly now, my heart pounding, and his fingers are almost at my panties now. I'm stiff as a board, tense, waiting for his next move.

"Before we... can I ask you something?" I say.

"Anything, love," he replies, but doesn't move his hand. He's tracing soft circles on my inner thigh, and it's hard to gather my thoughts. I remove my head from his shoulder so I can look at him.

His eyes are dark, his lips parted just slightly, and when I glance down, I see the bulge in his pants. I feel an ache in my lower stomach, and wetness between my thighs.

"Are you, or like, am I your..." The words are going as fast as they're coming, and my mouth is dry.

"You're my girl. My only girl. I'm yours." His words are assertive, sure, and his gaze is locked steadily on mine.

I grab his shirt, pulling him to me for a desperate kiss, so elated with his words and so beyond ready for him to do absolutely anything he wants to me.

Leaning back to lay on the couch, I pull him so that he's on top of me, he settles between my legs while his tongue explores my mouth.

His hand finds its way up my thigh again, and runs underneath the waistband of my underwear. His thumb dips down and brushes softly over my clit, and I gasp.

So does he.

"What's that?" he asks, and a blush settles over my cheeks. He sits up just a little, so he can look me in the eyes. "Is that a... piercing?"

I purse my lips a little and nod. "Yes."

"Fuck me, Y/N." He brings his mouth back to mine with twice the fervor of before, and pulls my panties to the side as he does, running two warm fingers over my clit, down to my entrance, and back. "I can't believe... you have that pierced. Oh, fuck, I'm so hard," he moans into my mouth, and I arch my back off the couch as he uses his fingers to trace circles around my piercing.

"Oh, Hobie," I moan, grasping his back. He sits up suddenly, removing his hand from me, and I collapse back onto the couch in a huff.

He takes his vest and shirt off, and then pulls my panties and skirt down over my legs. There isn't a moment to breath before his face is between my legs, and he takes my clit into his mouth, sucking and biting gently, then dragging his tongue down to my entrance to gather the wetness that is quickly forming there.

"Hobie!" I gasp, holding his shoulders tightly. He doesn't let up. He brings up two fingers, teasing at my entrance as he takes my clit back into his mouth, and pushes them gently inside me. "Oh, God," I moan, pressing down onto his fingers as they fuck me.

He's making the most delicious noises, humming and grunting and moaning as he works, showing me no mercy. I feel absolutely desperate with need, and every time he thrusts his fingers in, I grind down on them.

"Oh, god, oh, shit," I gasp as he brings me closer and closer to the edge. He rolls the piercing around his mouth with expert precision, working delicately and then biting down, keeping me always guessing, driving me to ecstasy.

He pulls away just for a moment to look up at me. "Cum for me," he demands, and when he brings his lips back to my swollen mound, I explode. I scream his name as I do, unashamedly loud in my orgasm, and he continues his assault, giving me wave after wave of pleasure, until I am absolutely exhausted.

He brings his head up to mine, and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"What the fuck, Y/N?" he says with a teasing smile, and kisses me firmly. "That's a hell of a surprise."

I grin shyly back at him. "That's the point."

"You're so... innocent. Your ears aren't even pierced! You almost never swear. You go to church, for christ sake!"

I roll my eyes. "Only on holidays with my parents."

"Still," he replies with a laugh. "What a fuckin' treat."

[bruisedboys]

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

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

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

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

“no,” you say weakly, guilty.

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

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

hobie grins. “c’mere, babe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hobie!” you gasp.

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

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

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

[eyesxxyou]

💿 hobie brown x fem!reader

❝ warnings ❞ just the tip, mention of a dick piercing, p in v sex

You said “just the tip” not thinking that it would do any harm. It was just the tip, all of 1.5 inches of 8 inches of solid cock. Hobie was pleading with you, his hand roaming and groping as you two lie on the couch, high out of your minds. He got horny when he was high and you…you got bold.

‘Just the tip’ was a test to see if Hobie could manage some self-control. Suddenly you were more exposed then you’ve ever been, lying on the couch with your tits out and cunt exposed to him while Hobie stroked himself to the sight. “Jus’ the tip.” He almost seemed to be reminding himself as he adjusted himself so his cock rested on top of your pussy.

He rocked his hips, dragging his length between your wet lips. Every thrust forward sent his cock dragging across your puffy little clit until you were rocking your hips in the opposite direction. Up and down, down and up, until you were both desperately humping each other between panting breaths.

Hobie slapped his fat cock against the flat of your pussy while your hips bucked against him. You were so fucking wet, the splatter of your wet pussy leaving his fingers and dick soaked. You were more than prepared to take just the tip, maybe even more if you wanted but you made it clear so he wouldn't go any further.

As he eased his pulsing cock into your aching cunt and groaned at your soft, wet walls of gummy flesh holding him as you rocked your hips and reminded him, “Just the tip.”

“Jus’ the tip.” He repeated something of a distant murmur, his eyes watching the way just the tip parted your soaked lips and begged always for just a little more. The piercing on the tip did wonders for his sensitivity, each push of his head in and out of your greedy walls making him shudder with pleasure and love and obsession.

You liked just the tip, liked watching Hobie struggle in the battle of keeping his promise and taking what he wants, what he needs. His thumb messily stroked at your clit while his free hand stroked the rest of his cock to the same rhythm. His nimble fingers worked at your pleasure incessantly and only found satisfaction in the way you moaned his name. “Hobie!”

It was almost embarrassing how nice it felt just barely going there. How nice the sound of your pussy letting him go with a little, creamy ‘pop’ sounded every tip he pulled out and how it welcomed him back when he pushed into you.

Just the tip meant him cumming more on your pussy than inside. He was sloppy about it, groaning on top of you like something of a feral animal while his seed covered your pussy. He was still pushing his head into you as he came, got the satisfaction of both worlds, watching his cum drip from place to place as he made a mess of you.

“Now let's go all the way."

[lotte-s-web]

Hobie who fucks you to his own songs, and sex isn’t all soft and lovely when kick-ass British-hardcore punk music plays in the background.

— SAMO 🎸🥀⁉️

samo babe youre trying to kill me this is the first thing i saw when i got home😭😭 youre so right tho i HAD to write a thing

💿✩ ❝record ❞ hobie brown x gn!reader ✩💿

₊˚⭑ warnings: penetrative sex, teasing, hobie records reader's voice, overstimulation (i think?)

God knows how long it’s been since his record started playing, but all you know is that he’s been wrecking you for more than 3 orgasms. You’re shaking, hands uselessly gripping at the sheets as if it’d tether your mind to your body, as if you could do anything against the unrelenting pace of his hips. Your cheeks are damp with overstimulated tears, your voice raspy from all the noise you’ve been making.

But noise doesn’t matter when his music is so loud, blasting from all angles of the room and drowning out even the loudest of your moans. It drowns out the loud clapping noise your bodies make as his hips meet your ass, over, and over and over again, following the ever-changing rhythm of each of his band’s songs. The combination of the aggressive music blasting in your ears and his length making space within your body making you dizzy with pleasure.

Hobie groans from behind you, his lean frame fucking into you from the back as he keeps his hand on your hips to pull you back against him with each thrust. His other hand is pushing down on your back, forcing you to arch for him, holding you down despite the way you writhe under him and making you take each thrust into you. 

His skin is covered in a light sheen of sweat, making his dark skin glisten in the dim lighting as if he was some god of the night. And with the way he was keeping you on the boundary between pain and pleasure tonight, it certainly felt like he was. 

He’s panting, groaning, and moaning above you, the rough and guttural sounds blending in with his song in a symphony that makes you clamp around him, your lust-addled mind soaking in his pleasure. His hips follow the aggressive beat of the drums, grating and angry guitar riffs pumping his veins with adrenaline and the energy to keep driving into you. His eyes zero on the way your greedy hole swallows in his cock as if it wasn’t enough, as if you hadn’t been complaining just a few minutes ago about it being too much. 

A new song plays, something even faster, even angrier. “Fuckin’ hell,” he grunts above you, stilling his pace to listen to the first few beats of this new song. The sudden stop gives you air to breathe, giving you time to gasp for air and thank whatever higher power there was for the much-needed break. Your face falls into his pillow, your body exhausted.

It’s just as sudden when he starts to move again, his hips pulling back and pushing back in, full force in one swift motion that makes you jolt, making you choke on your breath. The motion is repeated again, and again, and again in another swift rhythm that has you falling apart on his cock. It makes you whine into his pillow, trying to retreat from him in any way you could.

He clicks his tongue at that, disapproving, making his thrusts harder, making you moan louder. He removes his hand from your back to hold your cheeks in a firm grip, pulling your weakened body up flush against his chest. His mouth is right up in your ear as he continues his brutal pace, his fingers digging into the flesh on your hip and leaving purpling marks where they lay as he runs filth into your ear about how good he knows you sound. You can barely hear your own moans but his words ring loud and clear within the foggy state of pleasure he’s got you in.

“Wanna hear ya sing dove,” he groans into your ear, emphasizing each word with a thrust that hits right up against that gummy ridge that makes your eyes roll back and your mouth fall slack. He rests chin resting on the junction of your neck and shoulder, moaning into your skin as he starts to ramble in your ear. “Gonna— F–Fuck— gonna use i’ as yer audition tape, yeah? Mmmph— wanna show the band how fuckin’ pretty ya sound when y’re all fucked ou’ f’me.” 

You keen at the idea, getting his blood pumping hot through his body downwards to where he’s sheathed inside you, his grip on you tightening with every little noise that blends with his song. That’s when it hits him: an idea, a brilliant one. 

The hand on your hip moves away to scramble for something on the nightstand, your body trembling against his as he finds his tape recorder amidst the mess on the small table. He sets the device down underneath you and clicks a button, the cassette starting to roll just as he starts to move again, your whines and cries of pleasure all caught by his tape. You barely notice in your haze, too cockdrunk to even consider any resignations to the idea of you being recorded.

He hears your breath hitch at the idea of being recorded, your voice softly crying out his name in complaint. He chuckles, kisses your cheek then continues pumping up into you, murmuring into your ear, “who knows, hm? Migh’ even get ya on the next track li’ thi’.”

a/n: ik his accent here is shit guys MY BAD IM SORRY aghh its so hard to write it shfbdsh

๋࣭ ⭑ tag/s: @eyesxxyou, @s4mo-is-dead

[urdinosaurs]

for anybody wondering, when referencing the fanart of hobie concept art (mostly in rockstar!hobie fics with his band) this is what i mean:

(art credits: stillindigo on twitter)

these are the visuals i use and i know there are other writers who reference this too!!!

[wijuma]

"Good Girl" | Hobie Brown

"You don't want your dad to hear us, do you, honey?" - he whispered in a quick motion, covering her lips with his hand. - Be a good girl to me and come quietly - he purred straight into her ear, chewing them slightly, and then kissing her neck.

"You can't just barge in here and…"

"I can't? Well. . . I could stop at any time. Just say" - he whispered transferring the kisses to her clavicles and then to her chest.

Feeling the heat wave flooded her body, she let out a quiet moan.

"I'm not gonna ask you like last time. . . "- she muttered dissatisfied.

"No?" - he chuckled for a moment as he stopped touching her.

"No." - she said confidently.

"Are you sure?" - she felt his hands slowly slip under her shirt and then by the belt of her trousers and go down and down gently caress her skin. She felt the heat slowly spreading over her body, as if it was melting under the influence of his touch. - "Tell me to stop". - he purred a moment later, joining their lips together in an intense, wet kiss. - "Tell me to stop and I'll never touch you again." - his fingers slowly reached a piece of her underwear, slowly slipping underneath.

"Hobie. . ."- she moaned, chewing her lip and grabbing his hand to stop him, although she really didn't want him to stop.

"Nah, you have to ask first."

"Hobie" - she growled irritated.

"I know that's what you want, honey."

"No. . ."

"Your body says otherwise."- he giggled as he slowly slipped his fingers into her.

She screamed quietly, stubbing her nails into his forearm.

"Quietly, luv. . . "- he kissed her, moving his fingers faster and faster.

"I-I hate you so much" - she muttered, chewing her lip so as not to moan.

"Oh you don't look like you hate me" - he laughed quietly into her ear. - "I think you love me and what I do to you."

Her body bent into an arch, feeling a wave of intense orgasm flowing through her body.

"Or am i wrong?"

"Hobie. . . just f-fuck me already."

He giggled right into her ear.

"I didn't quite hear you honey"

"Fuck you"

"Nah. . . I heard something else earlier."

She was silent for a moment, breathing heavily and trying to calm her uneven breath.

"Please, Hobie. . .just fuck me already, okay? - she said with embarrassed expression on her face. - Are you satisfied now?

A rogue, broad smile affected his face as they heard her words. He put a wet kiss on her cheek.

"Good girl. . ."

With a quick, decisive move, he took his shirt off and she couldn’t help but just stare at his slightly muscular body.

"I love you so much Hobie" - she whispered into his lips before they started to kiss and make out in a slow, gentle way

Hobie felt his heart racing and his body feeling tingly. - "I love you too...so very much, luv." - He kissed her again in a slow, very passionate way, as he caressed her and started to move his hands up and down her body...and everywhere in between. He took it slow and moved his body in tune with her body as they kissed very passionately.

"Oh God, Hobie" - shs moaned quietly feeling her body getting warmer and more relaxed. 

"You really want it, don't you, my good girl?" - He continued to kiss her neck and move his body in coordination with hers. - "Shhh." - He caressed his girl's cheek with his free hand, while his other hands continued doing their thing. - "Just feel it...just feel...just relax." - He whispered in a low and soft tone. - "That's a good girl."

She was moaning quietly stabbing his back with her nails feeling his touch on her neck, she was very sensitive in this area and Hobie knew good about it.

"My my. I'm making you feel good, huh?"- he whispered into her ear.

"Feeling good for me?" - He started to nibble and bite at her neck very gently, slowly moving his mouth across her neck leaving marks on her skin. 

"So…so good" - she whispered with her eyes closed focusing on the pleasure he was giving to her - "Ahh…f-fuck"

"Is someone almost there?" - He spoke in her ear in a low tone, as he let his hands move all over and down her body. - "Someone's feeling it right now?" - His smirk grew into a cocky grin.

"I-I am…"- she gasped shaking a little bit feeling their body moving together in a slow, very intense way. - "Please..."

"Please, what?" - He asked, as he continued to kiss her neck and nibble slowly leading her to the edge, making her go insane - "Beg me for it." - He whispered into her ear and kissed her neck again. - "I want to hear you say it, my love."

"H-Hobie…" 

"Who's so desperate for it?" - he asked moving his mouth back up to hers, as he caressed her body and kissed her, feeling the heat building up in her body. - "Tell me" - He kissed her more and smiled in a low tone. - "I'm all ears, luv."

"Stop that" - she punched him playfully smirking quietly.

He just smirked back, as he let a hand go to her body. He then grabbed her and pulled her tighter, so they were right next to each other. He made sure she felt every part of him, before he moved his mouth back up to her ear.

"Beg me for it, love." - Hobie continued to whisper to her. His tone was firm and confident, as he felt her move even closer to the edge, just dying to let it all go for him. She moaned even louder,  almost screamed feeling all of him and his body.

"I-I beg you Hobie, just…please let me get there…p-please"

"I think someone is close to the edge..." - Hobie let out a small chuckle and a small smile, as he started to caress her body up and down and kissed her more passionately, nibble on her neck. - "I think someone is feeling good and close to let it all go..." - Hobie felt her body move in a way, so he moved his hands back down and continued to kiss her neck passionately, making her feel good all over. - "Come on, tell me. Who is close to the edge?"

"M-me…I-I am" - she gasped feeling she was almost there.

"You're so close, luv " - He kissed her neck and her body more. - "So close to feeling all of that and finally letting it go. You're so close, aren't you?" - Hobie continued to tease her even more and nibble on her neck and caress her body, as if he was trying to push her over the edge of bliss. - "So close." - He made his moves even harder and faster. - "Oh God... you’re so wet." - he purred next to her ear - 'Get there for me, luv."

She felt an intense heat wave coming through her body knowing she just got there she moaned loudly once again and stabbing her nails into his back all blushing and trying got catch her breath.

"There you are, luv." - Hobie moved his mouth back over to hers and kissed her passionately one last time. He kept his hand on her back on her and kissed her deeply. His hands caressed her body, all over. - "There you go, baby...you did it". - He smiled at her and then whispered to her. - "You...my...good...girl."

Afterwards, he lay down next to her, covering their naked, still humming bodies, hugging her and stroking her head.

"Will you play something for me on your guitar?" - she murmured quietly still with her eyes closed hugging him tightly. 

"You don't have to ask me twice, luv" - he smirked giving her a forehead kiss. - "But first where is me reward?" - he asked with a cocky grin on his face. 

"Aren’t you tired yet?"

"With you? Never" - he smirked while she was helping her to get on top of him. 

"Beg me first" - she said with a cheeky expression on her face knowing she was the one in control now.

"You naughy girl, using my tricks against me." - He smirked shaking his head with disbelief. - He knew she wouldn’t let go right now. She was good in this game, after all he teached her this by himself. After a moment of silence he sighed still smilling - "Please, make it so so good." 

[risingoftime]

A NIGHT TO REMEMBER ⟡ HOBIE BROWN

Hobie hadn’t realized that he butt-dialled your number while fantasizing about how it would feel to fuck you. In the midst of it all, he realizes that he might have an audience.

a/n: cause i can’t get him out of my head₊˚ෆˎˊ˗ 18+

part i | part ii

Hobie’s life had been in a constant state of unrest. If he wasn't fulfilling his duties as Spiderman, he was practicing and performing with his band Spider-Slayers. It had been a late night, and the only thing that brought him to peace was you. He found himself thinking about you more than he would like to admit. He had tried his best to keep his distance, knowing all too well what happens when people get entangled with him. But Hobie couldn't stop envisioning your sultry voice and soft lips. He wondered how your perfect frame would look bent over, pussy exposed all for him. Hobie was curious about how you would sound while getting fucked, if you moaned or whimpered when cumming and if he could make you do both. Shifting in his bed, Hobie became increasingly aware of his growing erection.

His dick throbbed at the thought of you and was already hard in his boxers. Hobie had never felt a desire as strong as he had for you. His hand releases his boner from the constricting fabric, already sensitive with need. Hobie wrapped his hand around his dick, pumping himself vigorously at the thought of fucking you. His precum acts as a lubricant while he imagines how your pussy would feel taking him in. Oh, the things that he would do. Hobie’s hips made languid movements, keeping pace with each thrust into his hand.

“Oh fucking hell, you feel so good.” His lips remained parted, letting out a breathy moan. Hobie visualized his cock deep inside you, your pussy taking it all too well and milking every last drop of Hobie’s cum. “Just like that,” he gasped. His toes began to curl from the image of your eyes rolling back and begging him not to stop. You're so beautiful it pains him to slow his palms from bobbing up and down his thick length.

Hobie’s hips begin to stutter, and his core tightens as he grows closer to orgasm. His free hand grips the sheets as Hobie’s body tenses at the tingling feeling that erupts. Opening his eyes slightly, Hobie watches as his dick jerks with each cum shot, soiling his boxers and rubbing the creamy white liquid against his skin. The noises from the friction between his hand and dick make wet slapping sounds. Hobie’s breath hitched as his body trembled at the mercy of the thought of cumming inside of you.

Once he could get ahold of himself, he washed his hands and cleaned the mess he had made. Hobie hadn’t realized how slowly time has passed when fantasizing about you. Looking around his room briefly, he could not locate his phone. He heard a lewd voice coming out from the sheets on his bed. Throwing the fabric around, Hobie found his phone had called your number by mistake. Your heavy sighs and whimpers ricochet through the phone speakers like a sweet melody to Hobie. It was evident what you were doing on the other side of the call. His dick was already pulsating and hardening. Unable to remain quiet for long, Hobie cleared his throat.

“Hello, love.”

navigation | masterlist

[inklore]

put on a show

premise: you like people watching you turn into a pitiful mess of need and desire, and hobie likes being the cause and effect of it.

pairing: hobie brown x (f)reader

word count: 2.3k

contents: established relationship, they’re both camstars, badly written british talk probably, unprotected p in v, coming inside, dirty talk, light choking, hobie has tongue and nipple rings because i said so, oh and tattoos, praise.

note: finally putting this out into the world instead of in my head, enjoy, eat it up, and thank my bby sil for sending in this request that made my brain short circuit.

You had seen Hobie first. 

Or rather, that’s the story he insists be told when your friends ask how you two met.

That it was you who was bored after your own stream one night and scrolled through the lives and found him. Stumbled upon him by luck, and your tongue heavy and dry in your mouth when you saw his tattooed chest, body leaning back against a deep purple sofa. The sheer-ish look of the velvet made his body look ethereal with him perched on it—knees spread as his fist lazily stroked himself. 

As if it were nothing. As if the piercings on his face and nipples, his thick hair, and the black studded collar around his neck didn’t make him look like a fallen angel. Like the users commenting on how hot he looked or how beautiful his cock was, it meant nothing over the comments of people cracking jokes with him and making the corner of his lips pull up in a smirk as he held a teasing conversation with them. 

A conversation you would have with a friend. Fully clothed. Maybe around a slice of pizza.

Not completely nude with your hand around your cock. 

And maybe that’s when you first fell in love with him. 

When you stayed for his quick quips and banter with his fans rather than watching him get off.

Of course, until you actually watched him get off. 

Watched the way his bottom lip hung open, brows furrowed, heels digging into the cushions of the couch as his hips bucked up into his fist. As his breath and words became heavier, more incoherent, and harder to understand with his accent, the closer he got. The harder he fucked up into his hand. 

The noise he made when he came, spurts of his come decorating his tattooed skin, was all you needed to see to know Hobie had pushed his way to the top of your—possible—favorite things to get off to list; your fingers typing out the only word you could think of into the chat: beautiful. 

“Looks like we've gotta celebrity in the room with us.” He smirked while reading your username. Thanking his tippers before giving everyone a salute and signing off. 

His words indicated that Hobie had seen you first.

That the story you tell is missing the prelude of it where Hobie tells them how he’d watched your streams before you’d ever watched his. Something he keeps between the two of you when he’s between your legs murmuring against your thighs about how he loved watching the men in your chat section be at your mercy from even a flash of your pretty pussy. 

And while you remember vividly the first time your eyes set on Hobie, it’s harder for you to fully comprehend how the two of you got here. 

Together. 

Streaming together. 

A couple. 

Who fucks for all to see on the internet. 

Strangers begging Hobie to leave his teeth marks in the globes of your ass, and within those same seconds, others are begging you to edge him with your mouth until he’s a swearing, groaning mess. 

You’d never tell your friends the nitty gritty details of it all. A simple “yeah, I found his stream first and the rest is history” is better than “yeah, I found his stream first and now he fucks me into the mattress of our shared bed and turns my ass towards the camera to show everyone his come dripping from my pussy”. 

So you keep it simple if anyone asks.

And give the rest away to strangers. 

To people who want both you and Hobie equally. 

Who send in tip after tip that one would think is the reason the two of you do this. Why you keep coming back and giving them what they want. 

You’d asked Hobie once why he likes to stream, among his other decently paid jobs—modeling, gigs with his band—that he could be doing steadily rather than this. He had told you that some scout manager for some big modeling agency tried to sign him after a show he did. Talked a big game about money and getting him in the clothes of real designers, the ones that mattered, only to end the conversation by saying how ‘his body, his rules’ only worked when you were with an agency that mattered. 

So Hobie, being Hobie, proved him wrong. 

Stuck it to every fake body positive agency out there by putting himself—his full self—on display on the internet, only for sales of the upcoming designers he was modeling for to be trending worldwide before the clock struck midnight. 

It made your reason for streaming a little less proactive. 

“You like it when people watch you make a total mess out of ya self don’t you, love?” He asks, his accent thick and deeper when you have his cock in your mouth like this. With your back splayed across the bed, your head hangs from the edge as Hobie uses your throat. As his hips create a pattern of thrusting slowly, then hard. The slow strokes move the underside of his dick against your tongue in a languid way that makes you moan around him as you savor its weight. The hard strokes burn your throat and make tears stream down into your hairline as spit and precome mix at the sides of your mouth and chin. 

All you can do is nod around him. Eyes blurry and doe like as you look up at him from upside down. See the lopsided grin he’s giving you. See his stomach muscles tighten and move each time he hits deeper in your throat than the last, your throat constricting around him, unwilling to take him any further until he repeats the stroke and it grows accustomed to him being there, welcoming him with a whimper and your hips canting down against the bedspread. 

And he was right. 

You loved people watching you look totally consumed. Fucked out and raw with pleasure and need. 

It was your favorite part of it all—before Hobie.

Watching the chat come alive with praises and degradations, from how you fucked yourself into exhaustion and delirium with a vibrator or the slow grind you would do against your pillow that always turned you into a whimpering mess. 

You wanted people to see you in that weakened state. To be in awe of how badly you wanted to come or be fucked. 

And Hobie loved watching you almost as much as he loved being the one to make you enter that state of delirium with just a swipe of his thumb across your bottom lip or a bite of your nipples. He loved doing the little things that would work you up to the point of your pretty eyes begging him for more—to be rougher, to go faster. 

It’s why the two of you made the perfect team. 

The perfect show. 

He loved someone who was addicted to what he had to give, and you loved everyone watching you take whatever he was willing to give you. 

And you both loved how heady the sight of each other's pleasure made you. How good Hobie looked with his head back between his shoulders, a hard swallow making his throat bob, groans slipping from his wet lips as you sucked on the tip of his cock as he pulled it out of your throat. Your tongue laced with the taste of his precome. 

Hobie's eyes light up as he runs his thumb along your wet bottom lip, leaving a trail of your mixed saliva down your chin and up to your neck, where his fingers splay across the column of it. His rings warm against your heated skin. The involuntary intake of breath your lungs make when he adds the slightest bit of pressure makes his cock twitch. 

Makes him want to fuck your throat with his hands right here so he can feel himself, feel how you fight back your body's survival need to struggle with something being that deep past your tongue. How you ignore it and do the opposite by moaning around him. 

You look messy, dazed, and all his.

As much as he craves to paint your tongue with his come tonight, with one sidelong glance at the screen, he can see that your fans want to see his come somewhere else. Somewhere that’s already wet and making you squirm when he reaches over your body and cups your pussy against his palm. 

Two fingers slip past your lips, making you mewl and squirm as your thighs clamp around his wrist. Your clit swollen and sensitive from his earlier abuse of it; his mouth attached to your pussy, the metal in his mouth aids in the friction of your hips to get him to where you were greedy to have him, and the metal nicking your clit in just the right way to make your back bow. 

“Should we show’em how soaked this pretty pussy is?” He hums against your chest as his pierced tongue runs along the mounds of your boobs before rolling against a nipple. Your body contorting against him; a whine the only answer you can give. Hobie grins against your skin, “thought so.” 

The embarrassment someone might feel to be now on their knees, chest to the bed, ass in the air, and Hobie’s fingers running through their wetness, has long since left your body. Embarrassment didn’t belong in this line of work or in your relationship with him. The two of you were like open books read and reread, pages torn out and dogged eared. He knew your dark parts just as well as you knew his light parts. 

So with the squelch of his fingers fucking into you, your entire bottom half facing the camera and giving everyone the perfect view and show of your arousal, of just how wet you had gotten from Hobie down your throat, makes you moan into the bed. Makes you beg him to fuck you. 

“Has she earned it, do ya think? Should we fuck this desperate pussy?” Hobie laughs at something, something you can’t see or even be jealous of not seeing because you’re too busy pushing back on his fingers. Too busy looking just as desperate as he describes. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” You feel his lips press against one of your cheeks before his teeth bite into the muscle, making you squeal. 

And with one quick movement, you're pulled in the other direction, your ass flush against his pelvis as he thrusts into you. 

The noise you make sounds more like a wounded animal meeting its end than something graphically sexy. But you know they’re eating it up. That Hobie loves it. If the way he starts out at a hardened pace is any indication of the matter. His fingers and rings dig into your hips as he fucks you; he doesn’t even have to pull your hips to him because your body is doing the work for him. Pushing back on him. Meeting him halfway and making his cock drive harder and deeper into your pussy. 

“Sounds so fuckin pretty, doesn’she?” Hobie leans over your ass and presses a few kisses to your spine before reaching up to grip your shoulder. One of his legs bent up at the knee, giving him more leverage as he pounds into you. “She feels fuckin’ amazing, mates.” He groans, “god. The way she grips my cock like her pussy is tryna pull me in further, and further,” his thrusts accentuate his words as his hips snap harder and at a new angle now. Making you sob into the bed. Your fingers are messing up the fabric of Hobie’s comforter. “Such a greedy pussy.” An airy laugh falls against your skin as his mouth bites at your shoulder.

Making your stomach flutter and your body hang at that precipice. 

It only takes a few more strokes and his thumb against your clit and you’re coming. Crying out as your body finally crashes down from that pleasurable high. That need finally being sedated and brought to a place of calming satisfaction. Like a wound being licked clean. Taken care of by the one thing, the one person, who could make the ache bearable. 

“Good girl,” Hobie grunts into your ear. “S’fuckin good,” he says in that deep octave that makes your body swoon. Makes those sparks of arousal hang on longer and longer as he continues to fuck you. As his hips snap and fingers pull you back onto his cock until he’s coming undone. Until curses are mixed with your name and he’s praising you and your pretty pussy for taking him.

And when he turns you around again, your ass back in view of your fans—the people you’re sure are going crazy in the chat right now. Their praises, their jealousy, and their tips all ping ponging through the chat. 

God she’s such a good little slut isn’t she

Fuck you filled her up nice 

Make her choke on it next time 

$100 pounds if you eat it out of her mate 

Ya’ll are amazing!

Your body shudders when you feel Hobie’s fingers run through your sensitive lips, the squelch of his pointer and index pushing into you—the smallest hisses breathed out from your lungs from the sting of your swollen hole—gathering the remnants of his come on his fingers.

“Look at the camera, love.” Hobie says softly, soothes a hand at the back of your neck to give your head a more comfortable position as you move yourself, but keep your ass in the air. He doesn’t even have to tell you to open your mouth for him; no need for silent orders. You just do it. Happily. His fingers press down onto your tongue as you wrap your lips around them and suck off his come.

[fl3shm4id3n]

Hobie brown x reader who likes to wear pastel and has a very much princess aesthetic, and all the other spiders are trying to spy on them to see if there dating

ₜₕₑ ₚᵣᵢₙcₑₛₛ ₐₙd ₜₕₑ ₚᵤₙₖ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰, 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ ᴘᴜɴᴋ/ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ x ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: couple stuff, nosy friends.

Masterlist

You were a spider woman, not just any spider woman, but the only spider woman in your universe. The thing about you was you were basically a pastel rainbow. You were pale pinks, blues, yellows, purples and every other light color, you also wore a small tiara while wearing your pastel colored suit. You stood out a lot when it came to the Spider Society Head quarters.

That's how you and Hobie met, you had just been recruited, he liked your style, he thought that it really fit you and your personality. Then you both began to date shortly. You and Hobie were basically a good due. Not only that but your group of friends began to suspect that you and Hobie were more than friends. Hobie was nice, but he was way to nice when it came to you, he was smitten by you.

One day when there was no work, you and Hobie were in the lobby, just talking to one another and whatever, not really being courteous about displaying some kind of PDA, well all you did was just hold hands and talk. What you didn't notice was the small trio watching you three from afar.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Miles asked while watching you. "I have no idea, maybe they're discussing about something important?" Gwen added. They watched as you took your tiara from your head and placed it on Hobie's head. "Look! They're totally a couple" Pavitr, added while both Miles and Gwen looked at him. "How would you know?" Miles asked his friend. "Because she doesn't let any one touch her tiara, I asked if I could try it on once and she said no" Pavitr explained, then they went back to looking at you and Hobie.

This time you were just giggling at what Hobie had said while the trio still watched you both. "Do you think that they know?" you asked while giggling, you've noticed the trio were watching you after a couple minutes. "Eh, so what if they know? I think it's time that they know that me and you are a thing." He said, while looking at your tiara in his hands, looking at the three heart shaped tiara. It wasn't a real priceless tiara but you treated it at such, it was a gift from your aunt before she passed away, no one touched it but you and now your boyfriend Hobie, who you trusted with your crown.

You then stopped for a moment and thought of something. "I got an idea" you said, getting Hobie's attention. "What you got in mind?" he asked, then you leaned over and kissed his lips, this caught him off guard but he kissed you back. Then you heard a bunch of yelling and phrases such as 'I told you so!' or just 'OHHH'. You pulled away and giggled by how the trio was jumping around and making a scene around each other. "Now they're know for sure" Hobie said while looking over at your friends.

[webdollzz]

hear me OUT. hobie brown mutual marking/branding smut@?11!1?1? pic this:

basically whole premise is reader writing "[names property]" on hobie after they've had sex as a silly wake up prank and taking a pic of herself writing it on him, while unbeknownst her hobie's WIDE awake

So he turns the tables and just fucks her dumb again and writes "[hobies property]" right above her pussy and takes a pic so they're even

sorry this idea is so random i just HAD to get this out my system!!

a/n🌟anon, I love you. here's ur fic + the tallys you added! ur ideas are GORGEOUS. this is quite hobie hand focused ngl...n i kinda don't like this??

warnings!: fem!reader x dom!hobie choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, slight mocking, slight mean hobie but gets soft at the end. use of y/n once                                                 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

his grip on your sweaty body loosened, a sign that he had fallen asleep after sex. he always did — he was out like a light everytime. you didn't mind, you enjoyed the sleepy cuddles. but you weren't that tired this time. you were still led ontop of him, puffing small amounts of air from your lips as your eyes drifted to the sharpie he used to sign autographs, immediately smiling at your little idea. you snatch up the sharpie, gently sliding down his body and writing 'y/n's property' along his hip bone with a cheesy grin.

with the remainder of your smudged lipstick, you kiss right next to the writing for affect. you giggle, grabbing your phone, pushing his boxers band down to make sure the writing was clear. You snap a picture of it, staring at it for a couple seconds before moving your phone away. you let out a yelp of surprise when you see hobie staring right at you, a very unimpressed and unamused look on his face.

"Fuckin' hell! I thought you were asleep." You gasped, your hands on his lower abdomen now as you sat on his lap.

"Yeah, can fuckin' see tha'. The bloody 'ell do y'think you're doin'?" He grumbled, sitting up and gripping your hips, sliding you closer to him, your breath hitching as your panty-clad cunt brushed against his already rehardening cock.

"was jus' having some fun." You shrugged. he rolled his eyes, placing his hand on the back of your head to brace you as he flipped the both of you over, your back now hitting the mattress as he flipped your positions, glaring at you from above. he pulled down your panties once again, making you shiver.

"we just finished." You grunted, your lips parting softly as he ran a finger through your folds, gathering your slick from previous rounds.

"so? should've thought 'bout that before you started tha' shi." He huffed, grabbing your hips and yanking you towards him, placing his head between your thighs. he kissed up them, nibbling softly on occasion, smirking at your impatient whimpers. he dug his fingers into your skin to make you stop squirming.

"hob — quit it." You whined, your legs attempting to close around his head to stop him but he forced them open.

"naw." He licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, making you jolt with a moan. he smirks, putting your legs over his shoulder. in no time he started devouring you like you were his very last meal, like you didn't finish fucking approximately half an hour ago. he was insatiable. give him a ten minute break and this man can go another couple rounds. you shudder around him as he eats your cunt like he never will again.

"yeah? you like that, doll?" he murmured against your pussy, making you mewl with a nod.

"mhm! don't stop, please." you begged, your hands finding their way to his wicks, tugging him closer to your cunt. he hummed lowly, sucking on your clit as his free hand that wasn't holding your down snaked between you two, his middle and ring finger prodding at your entrance before sinking in and immediately curling to your sweet spot. you gasp shakily, whining as you tug harder on his hair.

"Hobie! fuck, m'gonna cum." you cried, the overstimulation from earlier on still lingering, making the build up painfully good.

"c'mon ma, cum f'me. you got it." he cooed, pulling away to let his fingers to the rest of the work, leaning down to drink up your cries in a messy kiss you can barely reciprocate. as you gush around his fingers, he didn't slow his movements, prolonging your orgasm until you push his hand away, muttering a "t'much.." he kisses down your neck, humming softly.

"open up, good girl." he grunted, making you suck your own slick off his fingers, your tongue lazily swirling around the digits, making him groan and his cock throb. whilst you sucked on is fingers, his other hand pulled away from your hips to grab the marker. he put it between his teeth to bite the cap off, spitting out onto the bed next to you. you frown, wondering what he was doing, but before you could pull away to ask his slender fingers pushed deeper and made you gag and grab his wrist. he grinned cockily at your gag before leaning down to your inner thigh to draw one simple line. a rally, if you will. he pulled his fingers away from your lips, nodding towards the black line on your thigh.

"think we should keep addin' onto i'?" he rhetorically asked, his answer already being yes. his large hands grabbing your hips, flipping you over with ease and pulling your ass into the air. you yelp, your hands flying back to grab his arm. he tuts, shaking his head.

"c'mon, baby. be a good sport." he mocked with a shit eating grin, pushing your head further into the mattress. "hobie..s'not fair." you whined, but pushed your hips back to grind your ass against his dick anyway.

"aww, it's not fair?" he repeated as he reached down into his joggers to pull out his dick, pumping it a few times before lining it up with your entrance. you meet him half way, pushing back until you're buried to the hilt. you both let out a moan, before hobie slid his hand to the middle of your back and pushed down to deepen your arch. his other hand remained on your hip, gripping the flesh there hard enough to bruise.

"go on, then. fuck ya'self on my dick like a good girl." he urged, watching how you rocked your hips back and forth slowly, nearly moaning at the sight of him sliding in and out of you, your slick coating his dick. "oh god, feels s'good, hob." you mewled, nails digging into the sheets so hard they might as well rip them apart.

he hummed knowingly, both hands now holding your hips. he took over, not liking the slow ass pace you set. his thrusts were deep and rough, each one making a small ah! ah! ah! sound spill from your lips and into the fluffy pillow.

"fuck, such a slut fo' me, hm? yeah, you like having your lil' cunt pounded everyday." he said between his teeth. it was hardly a question anymore. you did.

"mhm! mhm! fuck, faster, please." you cried into the pillow, your already pre-smudged mascara wiping off onto the white pillow case. he went faster, one hand sliding up your body and wrapping around your neck. he yanked your body up to meet his chest, still thrusting unforgivingly into you as his veiny hand gripped your neck firmly.

"faster? fo'real? can't ever ge' enough, can ya?" He teased, his breath brushing your ear as he hovered by your neck, just being able to see your fucked out face through the corner of his eye. strained whines and whimpers fell from you, the hand on your neck making your head spin so good.

"I asked ya' a question." He scoffed, slowing his thrusts. you shake your head, your hand flying back to try and make him resume. he loosens his grip on your throat so you can speak.

"no! can't get enough. m'sorry, please. don't stop. don't stop." you panted, voice sounding like you're on the verge of sobbing as your nails dug into him to try and make him continue. he smirked, realising how pathetic he makes you. it was adorable to him, gave him an ego boost the man definitely did not need.

"since ya' begged so nicely, doll." he mumbled, giving you a quick kiss on the side of your head before his hand slid from your neck to your hair, gripping it tightly to force you down again. you moaned, your arms attempting to force yourself upwards but he wiped them out with his free hand before it went to your hip. he resumed pounding into you, the sound of skin meeting skin, your moans and mewls, and his breathy groans filling your small bedroom.

your orgasm was building quickly, his hand tugging at your hair, his tip practically hitting your cervix and bruising it — it was all too much. "h-hob! m'gonn-" you barely got the words out before your orgasm crashed over you, making your entire body tremble and a loud cry fall from your puffy lips. you coated his dick with your release, and he released your hair.

"good girl, tha'sss it. jus' like that." He praised, leaning down to kiss your shoulder as he grabs the pen he tossed aside earlier, marking your inner thigh once more. that makes two tallys. "can ya give me one more, ma?" He whispered, kissing your back and shoulder. you whined breathily, shaking your head a little before he pulled out and flipped you over.

he reached over to your bedside table, tapping your jaw gently as he raises the glass full of water to your lips. "open. take a drink, doll." He whispered softly, his free hand tucking your hair behind your ear. you smiled gently, putting your lips to the glass and letting him raise it slightly so you could take a couple sips of the water, the coldness easing your dry mouth and sore throat. he smiled softly, putting the glass back down on the side table.

"good girl. such a good girl, hm?" He muttered, kissing your lips softly a few times, and it almost made you not notice the way his hands went to grab your thighs. almost.

"he-hey! what're you doin'?" you mumbled, looking up at him with fluttering eyes. "well, you're a good girl, righ'? a good girl can give me one more." he cooed, pushing your legs to your chest, admiring the way your cunt drooled for him. you huffed, but nodded nonetheless.

"mhph. one more." you warned, but your tone failed you as it turned to a whine half way through as his dick prodded at your entrance.

"yeah, just one more, baby." He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your calf before sinking himself into you with a groan from him, a mewl from you. his thrusts were slow but deep, making you feel every inch of him sliding in and out of you.

"oh — oh — oh!" you moaned each time he hit that sweet spot inside you, your nails clawing marks into his back. "tha's it, ma. you got it. jus' relaaaxx." he drawed, kissing your nose softly before looking down to where you're connected.

"look a' her...takin' me so well, pretty." he praised, feeling you clench around him. your moans were breathy, your eyes fluttering closed as you gripped onto him.

"m'so close, m'god." you whined quietly, your back arching slightly. "s'okay, baby. you got it, cum f'me." he whispered, kissing your calf again softly, the coldness of his lip piercing a stark contrast to your hot skin.

you let out a high pitched, long moan as your legs shook against his hold as you came around his dick once more. your orgasm triggered his, making him groan softly as he filled you to the brim, softly pulling out a few moments later and muttering an apology when you wince. he laid your legs softly back onto the bed, kissing your body a few times as he tucked himself back into his boxers.

you were half asleep at this point, all fucked out and tired. he took the pen once more, gently writing 'hobie's property' right above your cunt. he grabbed his phone, snapping a quick picture of his n yours cum spilling out of your used cunt and the markings, grinning to himself. he then tucked his phone away, standing up to go to the bathroom and wet a flannel. he came back, carefully cleaning you up so he didn't disturb you, avoiding the now slightly smudged tally marks and his marking, before tossing the flannel to the side. he put your panties back on, grabbing one of his shirts from your floor and muttering a quiet — "cmon, help me out." as he slid it over your head, your arms going into the sleeve before you went back limp.

he curled up next to you, tucking you into him and kissing your head.

"i love you, sweetheart."

"love you more." you mumbled before falling into a deep sleep.

© WEBDOLLZZ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[suuuupernovaaa]

Clean | Hobie Brown x f!Reader

You got yourself into a little bit of a fight, and Hobie has to patch you up.

Mature. 18+. Mention of blood.

The cloth meets your tender skin, and you hiss and try to pull your hand away.

"Hobie, that hurts," you say through gritted teeth. "What is on that?"

Holding your hand tightly to your chest, as if to protect it from him, you look up to see an exasperated expression on his face.

"Stuff to clean it. Give me that back." He grabs your hand a little gruffly, and puts the cloth back on. When the sting subsides, it does feel nice and cool.

"Someone out to teach you how to throw a proper punch," Hobie says, dabbing the cloth gently, moving it up your arm to where your other scrapes are. None of them are terribly deep, except a slight gash on your thigh from, you think, falling onto some broken glass.

"I know how," you reply quietly. He moves to your other arm, and you feel the stinging again. "It wasn't much punching, anyway. It was like... clawing and shoving. It was chaotic."

He gives you your hands back, and looks down at your legs, noticing the cut on your thigh. He lets a whistle out from between his teeth, and stands up. He rinses out the cloth he's been using, and grabs a new one from his kitchen drawer. He puts more 'stuff' on it, and returns to you, sitting down.

"This is gonna hurt." He scoots close, so that your legs are between his, and without another warning, presses the cloth to your cut.

"Oh crap!" you shout, and you're annoyed when Hobie starts chuckling.

"Oh crap!" he mimics in a high-pitched voice, meant to resemble yours. He places a large bandage on your leg, and a couple others on cuts that look a little nastier on your arms, and then sits back. "Think you'll survive," he comments. "Now, you need to tell me why you were in a fight. Looked like a couple of cats in a bag when I arrived."

You turn away, looking from where you sit at his kitchen table over to the TV, which is showing the news. Hobie always has the news on, even though he hates it and everything they ever talk about.

"It just, escalated. She was a fan, I guess, of the band. And she asked if I knew you, and I said yes. And she said... some not nice things. She was just drunk."

You're his whore, then? Do you think I could get in on some of that? I'm sure he's not very picky. I mean, look at you.

You can feel the way she grabbed at your stomach, pinching it. It felt like something scripted out of a bad teen movie, except it was really happening, and she just wouldn't stop.

"What did she say?" Hobie asks. When you look back at him, he's leaned forward, eyes narrowed, lips pursed.

"It doesn't really matter. It's over."

"It matters to me."

You shake your head and wave your hand in the air, as if to dismiss the conversation. "Really, Hobie. It was just, I don't want to relive it."

He reaches out and places a warm hand on your bruised knee. "Tell me."

You roll your eyes and sigh. "She said like, I must be, uh, sleeping with you and your standards must be low because... I'm like, fat, or whatever."

Hobie sits up, his back straight as a board, his eyebrows raised and his jaw a little slack. "And you beat the shit out of her?"

You draw your line into a straight mouth and nod. "Sort of. I mean, I can't fight but, she was bleeding and crying at the end of it. I was bleeding too but, I wasn't crying."

He nods, as if in approval. "Why does she think we're sleeping together?" he asked. "She's seen you, at a show or something?"

"I didn't get a whole backstory, Hobie. I guess so."

"Hm." He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Must've noticed how I look at you. Everyone has. 'Cept you."

How Hobie looks at you? You try to think of what he could be referring to. Sometimes when he's on stage, he finds you in the crowd and smiles. But, you're good friends, so that doesn't seem all that exciting to you - does it seem that way to everyone else?

"How do you look at me?"

"Like I'd like to fuck you, Y/N. Like the shape of your body is all I can think about, and it really doesn't fucking matter what anyone else thinks about it. It fucking keeps me up at night."

It feels like you've been slapped in the chest, and all the air has left your lungs. Your mouth is instantly dry, and your legs feel weak.

Hobie is so dry, so even-toned, it's hard to tell if he's joking or not - but would that be a funny joke right now? Hobie is a lot of things, but he's not insensitive, and he certainly wouldn't try to hurt you on purpose.

"It does?" you ask finally.

He leans forward again, bringing his face just a few inches from yours. "I want you, Y/N. I thought I'd made it obvious, but now I see, I didn't."

You lick your bottom lip, and Hobie glances down at your mouth.

"Can I kiss you?" you ask, and a soft moan escapes his mouth, as if asking for permission turns him on. You feel his fingertips on your cheek, running upwards, until he cups your face in his hand.

You should close your eyes, you think, but the sight of him coming towards you is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. His soft brown eyes, his full lips, his sharp cheek bones, his glistening piercings; you want to remember every sharp edge and round corner.

He pauses, just before your lips meet and whispers, "Anything you want to do to me, you can."

[vhstown]

love our a.m.

— hobie brown x gn!reader

summary: Hobie hates mornings, but the ones with you aren't so bad.

warnings: hobie pov, fluff, alarm clock murder 😱 /j semi-edited

word count: 0.8k

a/n: wrote at midnight in like 2 seconds 🙏 p shabby but it's ok a little ooc hurt nobody thank you qiuwey for title idea ly

BRRIIIIII— Smash!

It didn't even get past the first ring. That was the third alarm clock Hobie had broken so far. If was almost a skill by now; he didn't even have to open his eyes. In fact, it was too bright to open his eyes. Everything was too much in the morning. Too bright, too loud, too cold. Why was it so bloody cold?

You. Or the lack of you, for that matter. The lack of you — and the back of you facing him. He stopped himself from moving you when he noticing the gentle rise and fall of your breath — that faint exhale he could listen to forever. Well, maybe not forever, given the way his arm was now cautiously hovering over your sleeping form.

Hobie inched just a little forward, peering over, his face tensed. You were asleep, alright. He couldn't tell if the expression on your face was a smile or a frown. For a moment, Hobie debated getting up and rotating his entire bed to stop you facing the wall, but his strength was only used for destroying appliances this early in the morning, it seemed.

With a sigh that had much more frustration than he'd like, the punk fell back against his pillow. He wasn't being needy, or anything, was he? Sure, he hadn't seen you in a while, and he hadn't held you in a while, but he could wait until you woke up at the very least — right? Hobie tried checking the clock, but it had already suffered fate of his fist. Truthfully, he hadn't slept a wink. Hobie thought about you often enough, sure, but you were all that had filled his mind last night — and arms. He surpressed another grumble. Not needy, of course — maybe a little cold.

You looked so warm — and comfortable. It'd be a crime to wake you up (not that he was much more lawful around you, but he didn't want to anyway.) The fact that his short-lived scrap with the alarm clock didn't alert you was a mystery. The wretched thing was from you, Hobie recalled: brand new from that little junk shop near the docks, now as good as a drumkit without sticks. There was probably a spring he'd dislocated somewhere on the floor for him to step on later. Another reason to hate mornings.

His pillow was starting to feel uncomfy. And the mattress. And all of his clothes. It was freezing now, as well. The blanket was too far, and was also probably too itchy, of course.

He relented, but not entirely. It was far more uncomfortable for him to try and keep his weight off of you, arm moving over your side and bent an awkward angle. If he wasn't so needy, this would be enough. No, this was enough, obviously... Hobie wished he had a second alarm clock to punch right now.

A sudden twitch of movement from you — and Hobie nearly punched himself. He held his breath, the muscles in his arm straining as you moved under him. He debated letting go (though he wasn't holding on much in the first place), before you were still. Hobie let out a quiet exhale.

It was a second later that your fingers curled around his. Then you squeezed his hand. Hobie's eyes flew open; his breath was trapped in his chest again.

"Hey..." He wasn't sure if he was just whispering to himself. "...You awake?"

Another squeeze to his fingers. Hobie sucked in his stomach. The expression on your face looked more like a grin. He had been, what one may call...

"You little—" Fooled.

Hobie couldn't finish his sentence before you turned to bury yourself in his chest, arms slotting between his to wrap him in a hug.

"Little what?" Your voice vibrated against his chest, still somewhat sleepy but awake enough to prove your guilt; you'd been awake all this time. All he could do was pull you more against him, closing his eyes in defeat. "Thought so."

Hobie sighed, soaking in your warmth as his body curled around you. He was like a bug to a radiator; the strange accuracy of that thought made him frown. He wasn't as small as a bug, but he could be as small as he wanted around you. Maybe one morning you'd hold him, but was more than enough, for now. He opened his eyes again when you shifted, yours narrowed by a faint smile.

"Morning," you whispered. The word didn't sound so bad coming out of your mouth.

Hobie leaned down to kiss your lips, if only for a moment, before pulling you back into his chest.

"G'mornin'..." he mumbled, yawning and closing his eyes again.

It was warm, comfortable. The sunlight had mellowed and the only sound was of your breathing, soft and even. Hobie hated mornings, but this one wasn't all that bad — not with you in it.

He decided he'd apologise about the alarm clock later.

🕸️🔭🎸

oho thank you for reading ^^ im trying to write more often but i have exams like... every week now so 💔 tis life but i hope u enjoyed

reblogs & feedback appreciated as always <3 find the rest of my atsv stuff here!

[eyesxxyou]

💿 hobie brown x fem!reader

❝ warnings ❞ size kink, fingering, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), light slapping, pussy slapping

We need to realistically talk about how large Hobie is. Yes, he's skinny but he’s also 6’5” and we all know that skinny dudes have the biggest dicks. He’s a grower for sure.

We need to talk about how much you struggle to take him every single time, how he takes his time playing with your pussy and stretching you open so it doesn't hurt. His fingers are long and slender and reach places you couldn't reach on your own. His tongue teases yours, fingers sometimes coming out to stroke your clit before slipping back in to curl against your soft ridge. “Open up f’me, doll. Be good.”

And when he finally gets the monster out, he strokes it between the wet lips of your pussy, slapping it against your soaked cunt, teasing his tip against your entrance until you’re weeping and begging him to put it in.

You always struggle to take him as stated before. The fat head of his cock pushing into your tight cunt until you cry. He keeps going even though you push your hand to his hip to slow him down. God, your pussy is so tight and wet and soft. He can't stop himself from taking what he needs, pushing into you until he manages to fit all of it into your tiny hole.

“I’s okay, you can take i’.” He stuffs his massive length into you until you’re creaming on it, already cumming with just a few thrusts. Your body tries to run but he holds you still, holds you down, makes you take more.

“Nice lil’ pussy.” He murmurs, as he fucks you sideways, your pussy leaving a creamy ring of your cum at the base of his cock. You can barely take it. Your poor pussy is all swollen and puffy from his abuse. His fingers sloppily rubbing your clit until you cum again.

Sometimes he pulls out completely, takes his time to stroke his cock against your aching pussy while your thighs tremble. He thrusts all the way back in with one stroke of his hips and then all the way back out. Your legs shake some more. His hands grip your thighs, rubbing gentle circles into the muscle to help the shaking stop. “Take ya time, lovie.”

He fucks you from the back and grips your jaw. His body towers over you, forces your back to arch, fucks into you like no tomorrow. Hobie makes you see stars, makes you go cross-eyed. You can't formulate words, can't grasp a single coherent thoughts in that dumb little mind of yours. Hobie holds your hands behind your back and your face falls into the sheets. He chuckles, smiling. "Gotcha goin' dumb, don't I? Stay wit' me love." He reaches and lightly slaps your cheek to ground you.

And when he finally cums, he cums so much, so much that it leaks out if you in messy, white globs. He spreads it with the length of his cock, slapping his length against your ruined pussy while you struggle to catch your breath.

"did so well f'me, dove. Took my cock like a fuckin' champ, ya did."

He always rewards you after taking him, knowing how difficult it can be sometimes. He gets down on his knees before you and takes his time cleaning you up with his tongue. Hobie's lips kiss your clit and his tongue laps at your leaking cunt. He eats you until your legs clamp around his head and your hands work to push him away from overstimulated. It's torture of the best kind.

Hobie's so fucking big, it's insane.

[lotte-s-web]

happy pride month i wrote smth

🔉✩ ❝talk to me❞ hobie brown x gn!reader ✩🔉

₊˚⭑ warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it kids), slight humiliation kink, praise kink (?)

hobie loves it when you talk to him during sex.

he finds it relaxing, especially after a long day of patrolling. he needs to hear your voice to unwind, to calm down. it helps him sleep better at night, he swears.

he especially loves asking you about the little mundane things of your life like how your day went, what you had for dinner– stuff like that. it reminds him of simpler times, of the times when he wasn’t a Spiderperson and still considered normal.

so when he swings into your window after rounds all over the city, he scans the place for your silhouette, pulling his mask off to better clear his vision. the moment he spots you, he kisses you before you can get a word in, taking the lead in guiding you to the bed whilst peeling off your layers and his.

he gets you to lay down on your stomach for him, fucking you nice and slow from the back. your hands grasp at the pillow placed beneath your head, he gives you that, but you’d be daft to think that he’d let you hide that voice of yours. he’s got one hand on your waist pulling you back to meet his thrusts and another one holding your face up by your cheeks to refrain you from hiding your face in the cushions and muffling yourself.

“D’ya hear me, luv?” he asks, teasing. his full lips are curled up into a fond smirk as they graze the shell of your ear. he watches your grip on the pillow tighten and knows you’re losing it. his fingers tap at your cheek to bring you back to him which earns him a weak whine from you; it makes him chuckle. “C’mon now, stay wit’ me. Keep talkin’ f’me, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you mumble back, nodding as he kisses your temple and hums in approval. you gulp, your breath shaking as you try to recall what you were rambling about. gosh, what was it again..? “A-and so, a-as I was ordering..nngh– she.. she scoffed and—”

“Tha’s it,” he says, groaning as he starts pumping his hips into you again. It pushes you forward and makes you interrupt your speech with a moan, his tip nudging up against that soft ridge inside you that just makes you blank with pleasure. “Keep goin’,” he pants, grunting as you clamp around him at the reinforcement, “y’r doin’ so well..”

you whine at the praise and try to continue the string of words that were so rudely interrupted by his cock. “And.. a-and—” but try as you might, he still has you babbling out your thoughts instead of just saying them. the way he was fucking you had your head spinning, mind clouded with so much pleasure it felt like you couldn’t focus on anything other than the way he was filling you up so delightfully.

and as much as he loves hearing you try to stay grounded for him and keep talking about your day, he can’t bring himself to be upset when you start to cry at him that he felt so good, too good even, losing yourself and trailing off. he might not admit it but he loves it when it becomes so obvious your mind is so torn between talking and soaking in the pleasure that he can’t just help but up the intensity for you, going a little faster, a little harder— just to drive you a tad bit more insane.

nights like these always end with you caving and going off-topic, no matter how much you try not to let your train of thought derail. it always ends with you forgetting where your thoughts were leading you and begging him to go faster, rougher, ‘cause the slow pace just felt like torture. and it always ends with him complying, rewarding you for your efforts and being so good, fucking you till your eyes roll back and your voice peaks at the height of your pleasure as you cum so messily for him.

he soaks in the sound of your voice and spills inside of you with a loud groan, leaning down to press kisses to the back of your neck as he lays a-top you as you both calm down.

it’s safe to say you’re both sleeping better tonight.

a/n: this was a brainfart idea i had earlier last morning when i woke up that i just jotted down in my notes so theres a reason its messy pls dont flame me 🙏🙏 happy to be back and booming

๋࣭ ⭑ tag/s: @eyesxxyou

[gowonminajxx]

pre show prep: frozen hands

hobie brown + fem!reader thoughts

CWs :: smut (fingering), desperate hobie, small plot, british people. not proof read or edited

hobie brown had concerts every now and then, and when he did, he obviously needed some sort of warm up or practice before playing in front of a public crowd.

his fingers would strum the guitar at least an hour or two before the concert, trying to warm up to his senses and feelings he had when was on stage.

hobie found himself stranded in thoughts, getting distracted while he played by the most random things. the light from outside the practice warehouse being extremely blinding, a bird chirping, or anything that alerted some sort of sense.

he had to do something. his fingers felt a little frozen, almost as if they couldn’t play at their full speed. they felt rusty when they clashed against his guitar.

hobie had thought of a pros and cons list to every option other than practicing before a show, and he was pretty stumped. his eyes would gaze around almost as if he was searching, looking for more ideas.

but there was one solution. with multiple benefits.

you were his girlfriend, someone who he’d drag along to his shows every time he had one. you’d stand in the crowd, bopping along to the music and watching your love perform in front of all these people.

this time, he called you up a little earlier in the day, sending his location over as fast as possible as his frozen fingers tapped up against the screen.

you agreed, heading over. he talked about this like it was an emergency, so there was a lot more rush in your step.

as soon as you arrived, he motioned you quickly to a small closet in the back. it was dark, extremely small, and it looked like it could only fit two people. which was perfect for hobie in this situation.

he urgently pulled down your pants after unzipping them, almost ripping open your panties beneath with his wide fingers. you could barely get any words out as he cut you off with his sudden physical actions.

you stumbled upon your words as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, tongue swirling around as he prepped. hobie’s eyes glanced towards your already wet clit, but paid no mind as he slid in two digits.

his fingers were long and thick (like another body part of his), and hit you in all the right ways. he stood up straight, leaning over you a little as he stared into your shiny eyes.

he chuckled. “sorry for not tellin’ you, but i need some way to warm up before the show.” his thick fingers delved deeper, pushing into your pussy as you whimpered below him vulnerably and desperately.

“good method, innit?” his pierced eyebrow raised, gleaming in the dim flickering light of the closet. he smirked smugly as he stuck in one other finger with no preparation.

his fingers were now sliding in quickly, and it seemed like this was the best kind of practice for him. his fingers warm and slick inside of your clit, being drenched in your liquids even before you orgasmed.

he landed a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back, focusing more on his practice down there. his eyes narrowed to look down, a grin almost raising on his face as he wiped it away. the way you whimpered for his movements and because of his movements just made him want even more.

as soon as you orgasmed, you’d beg him to head to the venue to go play his show so he wouldn’t be late, but he shut you up with his fingers working even harder.

sliding in and out with wet noises, his thick fingers delved inside you as you moaned, the sounds filling up the closet. hobie grinned as he placed his hand on your back so you wouldn’t crush into the shelves behind you.

he licked the liquids off his fingers as soon as you finished, before pulling your panties and bottoms back up, making you wear the drenched panties underneath your clothing.

and you noticed how he played more intricately at his shows, his fingers moving at a quicker pace with new songs he just learned.

and you wonder why.

[chaussetteblanche]

"I can't do this anymore,"

pairing : hobie brown x reader summary : you can't put up with being in a relationship with hobie anymore, angst word count : 1.5k warnings : 18+ mentions of smut note : i try to make the reader as neutral as possible so that anyone can read and identify to them ! if you see anything that isn't neutral (gender, skin colour, etc.) please don't hesitate to tell me :)

When you’d first started seeing Hobie, you’d been warned by himself and some of his friends of his… particular tendencies. But you’d thought nothing of it. So what if he liked to get away from time to time? You understood, sometimes the world was too loud even for you. So what if he ghosted people for days on end at some moments? He liked his peace. So what if he would show up at your place battered and bruised? The protests you attended weren’t always peaceful either. You truly hadn’t thought you would mind it. Not one bit.

But then you’d had a breakdown one night. You’d wanted nothing more than his comforting arms around you, his soothing voice telling you that everything was going to be alright. And he had been nowhere to be found. He had vanished off the face of the Earth. And then another time, you got accepted into all the colleges you’d applied for. You were absolutely ecstatic and had rung him up immediately to tell him the good news. Once again, it was as if he wasn’t even on the same planet as you. He'd begged you to come to this one specific show and had been so excited about it, but when you had showed up, he had been nowhere to be seen. You had spent the entire evening alone. The show had been amazing, of course, but it was never the same without Hobie. You had sent him a text one evening, wanting to see if he wanted to grab a bite together the next day and he’d only answered five days later.

Even when he'd shown up at your doorstep and didn't give you time to greet him before he was on you, pushing your body flush against the wall as his hands roamed you, you didn't question it. Not even did you ask about it when he fucked you from behind, shoving his cock into your dripping hole like there was no tomorrow, his eyes glued to the spot where you met, white rings coating his dick. Or when he ate you out like a starved man trying to quench something deep inside him, making you sing and arch your back in the most beautiful way, you'd never asked. Even when he’d crashed through your window one evening, almost ripping your curtains out of the wall and staining your hardwood floor with blood, you had never brought it up again. You’d patched him up the best you could, gave him something to eat, drink, and a place to stay the night, just like you had done all the previous times. The next morning, when you’d started asking questions, he’d told you not to worry about it. About him. But that was easier said than done.

You had been willing to put up with it. Everything. No labels? Sure, of course, no problem. You understood, they were oppressing and made you expect something from the other person. You shared pretty much the same view on society and how it all could be saved, so the rest wasn’t that complicated. That drawer you couldn’t open whatever the reason? No problem, everybody was entitled to some kind of privacy. The music? You weren’t the biggest fan, but that had never been a problem, you were open to new things.

But when everything started to have an impact on you, your well-being, and your mental health, that was where you drew the line. You’d come too far to let yourself be ruined by anybody, even if that person was Hobie Brown. You loved and respected yourself too much to let yourself be destroyed by him. And that was when you knew it had to end. Whatever it had been. It wasn’t fair to you, or to him.

When he’d tapped at the window one evening, you had been slow to open it. He’d crawled inside your room and promptly sat down on the floor, resting against the wall. “Hey, luv,” His voice, although soothing as it always had been, made you tense up. “Are you hurt?” You kneeled next to him and gently took hold of his chin, lifting his face and angling to the side, looking for any kind of injury. He met you with a curious gaze, sensing something was off immediately. He knew you too well. He leaned forward to give you a kiss but you turned your head to the side, making his lips meet your cheek instead. He frowned but didn't comment. “Just a scratch,” he answered, lifting his shirt up to reveal three impressive wounds which almost looked like claw marks. You cussed under your breath and hurried over to the bathroom to pull out a first-aid kit. You dropped to your knees next to him, like you'd done so many times before that you'd become accustomed to the bruises, and started pulling out all the things you would need to treat his wound.

"How did this happen?" you asked quietly as you sprayed some disinfectant on the scratches. He looked past your head, at the poster you had on your wall. Your breathing was shallow. He didn't like when you got worried about him. He preferred your shallow breathing in other situations. "Some pig with really long nails, I guess. I don't remember all of it, honestly, t'all went really fast," You said nothing, your lips pressed together tightly. You knew damn well the wounds he came back with weren't from pigs. Of course, they were violent and sometimes lethal, and you hated them for it, but they didn't leave wounds like this. This wasn't anything human, you were sure of it. "You alright, my love?" Hobie asked after a second. You were concentrated on placing a few butterfly stitches and took a few seconds to answer.

"I can't do this anymore, Hobie," you sighed, sitting back on your ankles. He immediately sat up straighter, worried eyes looking over your face before landing on his wounds. "Oh, I can take it from 'ere, luv, you've already done so well-" "I mean us, Hobes, I can't do this," you motioned between him and you," anymore." He seemed to forget all about his injury and got on his knees, taking hold of your hands. "What do you mean by that?" he asked calmly. You hated how collected he could stay in a moment like this.

"I mean you're clearly lying to me about something. Something big, too. And you can have your reasons, I respect that, but I can't put up with it anymore, it- it's not fair to me." You cursed your voice for trembling. Your insides felt like they were on fire and you wanted nothing more than to cry in his arms. But you couldn't. You had to stay strong. "Why do you think I'm lying to you about something?" "Are you serious?" you scoffed, ripping your hands away from his and standing up. He inhaled sharply, wincing. "You show up at my window battered and bruised, saying it was pigs! You know damn well if they had actually gotten their bloody hands on you, you wouldn't be here to tell the story, and I wouldn't be here, patching you up and keeping my questions to myself, I'd be out in the street marching and screaming your name!" You were pacing around your room now, unable to keep still with the turmoil of emotions inside you. His heavy gaze followed your every movement. Your eyes burned with tears. "So, I don't know what it is, if you're a criminal or a bloody superhero, or if you get some kind of kick out of getting your ass beat, and I don't care, I just can't stand being in the dark!"

Hobie pushed himself to his feet with the help of your windowsill. He wobbled and you steadied him by reflex before pulling away, as if his touch had burned you. You ignored the hurt look on his face and the deep crease in his brows. "And- and even when you're here, with me, I feel like you're not here entirely... Like you're just- out of reach or something. And I can't take it anymore, Hobie. This whole thing, it's too much. I deserve an explanation. Or I deserve better."

You'd never seen that look on his face before. He looked like he was about to be sick. He ran a hand over his face and let out a deep sigh, sitting back down. "You're right, I'm being unfair to you. I was worried about that at first, but you took it like a champ, so I never thought about it again." "Thought about what again?" you pressed, your throat tight. "About what I was making you go through by being with me."

You took a shaky breath, feeling the pit in your stomach growing by the second. "Hobie, is there anything you'd like to tell me?" "Yeah, I think there is."