#Older!Hobie Brown x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-kr8tor · 5 months ago

Note

This is the fancier potioneer I know! Congrats for the 1 year lovie 💕

May I request some cardamom with elder berries in a heart shaped bottle (and a hint of baby's breath)? Hobie and fem!Reader going back a couple years at their daughter's school party that happens to have an elegant mail at display for the high-school sweethearts 🥹 feel free to decide who sents who a letter! I can just imagine Billie and Ramona going giggles watching their parents fall in love all over again!

Potion coming right up just for you!!! Thank you for requesting bleaky! 🩷

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is mentioned taller than her though), CW food mentions, Dad au, twin au, Billie and Ramona au, Dad! Hobie, Mom! Reader, older! Hobie, FLUFF!

Katy's 1 year celebration 🎉

Excited screams and the smell of cotton candy greets you as you enter the twins' high school. You still can't believe that they're already in their freshman year when it felt like it was just yesterday you were teaching them how to tie their own shoes. Now they know that and more. You're incredibly proud of them as you weave through the crowd, seeing their familiar silhouette in their booth. Students and teachers passing by, holding snacks and treats from the nearby food stalls. A few parents are scattered here and there, they're probably here for the same reason as you, to support their kids.

Your smile gets wider and wider as you see their pink and red booth that is covered in glitter and hundreds of hearts. Sure enough, when you get close to the line, Billie and Ramona look at you simultaneously. Their grins identical, both inheriting their dad's adorable dimples that you adore so much.

“Mum!” Billie screeches, wildly waving at you. She's clad in a full blown cupid outfit, dressed in your old, or how she puts it ‘vintage’ white with pink accents leather jacket. The wide legged hot pink pants that she begged you to buy for her fits her perfectly, she even sewed pink hearts all around it to emphasize that she is cupid, and cupid is her. “Skip the line!” Beckoning you over, she acts as if she's shooting her pink spray painted toy bow and arrow at you.

“Don't shoot at mum!” Mona scolds her sister like she had actually aimed a real weapon at you. Instead of her sister fully dressed for the part, Mona's outfit isn't as loud. She had burrowed Hobie's old cherry red leather jacket, still clad in hundreds of pins, and spikes around the shoulders. You had bought her a top at the same time you bought Billie her pants, it has hearts embroidered on it, all in rainbow colours, fluffy and in 3d. Her eyes are in the same sparkly eyeshadow that Billie has, dusted with vibrant pink and ruby.

You walk over to their table, it's littered with pink scented papers and envelopes. There's a basket of candied roses nestled under Billie's arm with a few letters tied around the stem. The entire booth is chaotic, both familiar and unfamiliar faces are helping out in their mail booth. Mona is in the front counter while Billie stands on the side, beckoning people over to their booth.

“You made it!” Billie happily envelopes you in a hug, gogo boots thumping on the ground. She smells oddly like your perfume.

“I couldn't miss it, Bee!” You pat her back to release you, yet she still clings to you like she's ten years old even though she has gotten way taller than you and her own sister. “What time is the big dance number?”

“At one pm, mum.” Mona says, busy and occupied as she tends to customers.

“Not even a hug, Mon?”

She looks up at you briefly, puckering her lips and making kissing noises. Teenagers. “Sorry, mum, I'll hug you in a minute once Thena comes back.”

“Who's Thena?” You ask the still clinging Billie. “Shouldn't you help your sister?” You glance towards the frantic Mona, but she's composed, getting the rhythm of everything. She takes the cash, gives them the stationary, and then points them towards a more befuddled spectacled boy who looks like he's about to collapse from pressure.

Billie takes one look at Mona and then back towards the boy, then to you. “Nah, they've got it.” You furrow your brows at your daughter. “Trust me, when Mon mon’s in the zone nothin’ can stop her. She's a well oiled machine who has kicked me in the shin twice when I tried to help.”

“You were not helpin’!” Mona adds, “we're filled with messages! Go start deliverin’, Billie!”

“Oop,” Billie chuckles, “Full first name, I think she's mad mad.” She whispers to you. “I'm waiting for dad, Ramona!” Teasing, her sister gives her the stink eye. Billie in reply sticks her tongue out, to which Mona shakes her head at. “Where's dad anyway? I wanna show him my bow and arrow!”

“Parking, he's having a tough time finding a spot.” You answer, picking a stray eyelash off her sparkly cheek. “He'll be here, don't worry. And he has the camera fully charged so he doesn't miss a second of your dance.”

Billie giggles, Mona smiles at the conversation. “It's not just us dancin’, mum, it's the whole school. There will be a lot of people.” Billie thanks you with another squeeze as she hasn't left your side.

“Still, he has every milestone recorded since your birth, he's not gonna stop now.”

“Billie, the bloody letters!” Mona interrupts, huffing at Billie's groan of protest. “Now!” She flicks her eyes at you, “please?” The butterflies in her hair look like they're actually flying when she moves her head.

“Only because you asked nicely!” Billie pouts, “I’ll be right back, mum! Tell dad I went around, okay?”

“I will, go, have fun delivering letters!” You wave her off.

“Oh it's my favourite! It has always been my dream to be a delivery woman!” You laugh at her antics. “Oh and Mon don't forget the thing!” She saunters off, running after a student who probably has a letter in her name.

“I won't!” Mona yells back.

“What thing, baby?” You walk beside her, patting her aching shoulders.

“A letter,” she grins mischievously at you, there's a glint in her eyes that you've seen in Hobie's eyes. Sliding a pink paper and a gel pen over to you, she raises her brows playfully. “It's on the house, mum, special courtesy of the best daughters in the world.”

“The best of the best.” You smile, trying incredibly hard not to peck her temple or you might end up embarrassing her. She also smells like your perfume. “But first, do you want help? I don't know who Thena is, but it looks like she's still not here.”

“Please.” Mona sighs in relief, “I'll give you a bundle of chocolate roses.” She scooches over, giving you space.

“No need, I still have a ton left from your dad.”

The line thins as you help Mona, and in between customers, you've written a letter full of love for Hobie. Thena, who you now know is a sophomore finally arrives with help. She lets Mona actually enjoy the event just as when Hobie arrives huffing with a frown. The crowd parts for him like he owns the school, it's his saunter, you always tell him. He's in his normal punk garb, to the detest of some parents but the students seem to love his style, including you who still falls head over heels at the same leather clad man.

“Hi, dad.” Mona, more tired, plops on her dad's side after squeezing the life out of you. Her cheek is pressed on his side as he rubs soothingly up and down her arm.

“I know ‘m like a broken record, but what did I miss?”

You open your mouth to reply, already magnetized to his other side, his arm around your waist as the three of you walk around the event. But Billie's voice suddenly pops out of nowhere.

“Mon mon bein’ a girl boss!” She collides into the three of you, Hobie chuckles, patting her head. She ducks away though, “don't mess up my hair, dad!”

“I wasn't.” Hobie meets your eyes. “And to think I used to do her bloody hair.” The twins walk ahead of you, whispering to each other.

“Teenagers, Hobie, we've got teenagers now.”

He makes a face, pulling you closer, watching his girls giggle amongst themselves. “I know, I think we need another one to balance them out.”

“With your back, old man?” You pinch his side, grinning at him. He doesn't miss the innuendo filled comment.

Hobie leans his face close, pierced lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Who you callin' old, huh? This old man can still lift a bloody plane.”

“Sure, sure, So you keep telling me.”

He blows hot air in your ear, chuckling lowly as you gasp. “You wanna bet?”

“Later, old man.” You wink and you're already walking beside his girls, arm in arm, teasing him with a simple look.

—

You sit on the bleachers, lap full of snacks, buttered popcorn, corndogs and a couple of blue coloured drinks that you cannot fathom the flavour of. The seat is high up, overlooking the entire field where all the students wait on the sides. You'd be scared of the height but you're used to it now because of Hobie's impromptu dates on skyscrapers. Hobie slides over next to you, sweat clinging on his brow, arms clutching more friend food than anyone could even consume in one go.

“Are you sure your heart can handle all that?” You tease again, and he looks at you tenderly, eyes shining in the afternoon sun, reflecting the school flags waving above. After all these years, you still can't get over the fact that he looks at you like that, like you're his whole world.

“‘m a growing boy, love.” You hand him the camera from your purse, “and maybe ‘m preparin’ for tonight.”

“Nothing happens tonight, Hobs if you eat that whole blooming onion on your own.”

“You want some then?” He shakes the packaging.

“Of course I do.” You playfully scoff, taking the treat from Hobie as he laughs.

You two eat your fill, leaving some for the girls after the show, knowing that they'll be starving by then. One after the other, students from different grades take turns showing their own choreographed dances. Thankfully it's the girls' turn after the one you're currently watching.

“What's in this?” He asks, shaking the half empty blue drink.

“You're almost done with it and now you're just asking?” You say with your mouth full of cotton candy.

“Well, do you know?”

“It's blueberry.” You shrug.

He takes a sip, smacking his lips together. “Nah, I don't think so, lovie. I think it's all chemicals.”

You chuckle, knowing his next words. “Don't—”

“I think it's radioactive.” He fakes a gasp.

You still laugh wholeheartedly after the umpteenth time of him using the same joke.

“You laugh at radioactive material?” He says, mock disappointment.

“Well, I sleep with one every night, so…” there's a twinkle in your eyes.

“Fuckin' cheeky.” He grabs the back of your head, pushing you closer to him. “Y’know the girls got that from you.”

“And what did they get from you?”

“Except for my charms and handsome dimples? My brain.”

“Ah yes, of course—” before you could smooch him, the same boy from Billie and Mona's booth suddenly appears, his tall lanky frame blocking the sun, red hair brighter than Hobie's boots.

“What can I do for you, mate?” Hobie asks, and the poor boy practically shakes where he's standing.

“Y/N Brown?” He asks, already handing you a pink letter from his basket full of perfumed stationery.

“Yep, that's me. Thanks.” You look at the letter with confusion. “Looks like I've got a secret admirer.”

“Who?” Hobie acts, “and is he an adult so I can fight for your hand?”

“Shut up.” You laugh, opening the letter gingerly. Reading the affectionate words carefully.

“Hobie Brown?” The red haired boy asks again, Hobie looks up at him. “Mr. Hobie Brown.”

“No Mr. Brown ‘ere, bruv. But I'll take it.” His smile eases the boy, but he still skedaddles out of the bleachers. “He looked like he was about to piss himself. Does he know the girls, love?” He looks back at you with tears in your eyes. “Love?”

“H-how dare you write this love letter so well.” You sniff, he smiles. “This is so good! I-I haven't heard you call me cherry in so long, Hobie. And now that y-you wrote it….”

“Deep breaths, love.” He wipes your tears with his thumb, and a few people look at you weirdly. He doesn't mind, he can fight.

“You’re an asshole, I love you so fucking much.” You suddenly hug him, arms around his neck, face pressed on his skin. “You’re so right, the girls got your charm.”

Hobie holds you, knuckles running along your back. “And they got the rest from you.”

You lean back, tears still clinging in your lashes. “Don't read mine, it doesn't compare to yours.”

He shakes his head, staring at his love. “Even if you wrote it in wingdings I'll still read it.”

“It might as well be.”

“Too late, already reading it.”

“What—?” You look over your shoulder, and sure enough, he's reading it behind your back. “Ass.”

He blinks, eyes glimmering, clearing his throat. “Well, that's—”

“Shit? Horrible? Almost twenty years together and I still can't form coherent words when it comes to you?”

“No, I mean the last one is accurate, but,” he inhales. “‘m glad you chose me, love, and ‘m glad you kissed me back even after I kicked and broke your uni's doors open.”

“I kissed you back because I always hated those doors.” You joke, he laughs as he cradles your face in his hands. Those hands you've loved no matter how rough it gets. “And I always wanted to do that.” Not a joke, a full confession like you've said to him all those years ago.

Hobie tucks in the letter inside his jacket, right above his heart and you place yours just like he did, mirroring his movement. He gently pecks your lips, it's done immediately but not without love, it's full of it, filling your heart.

“I owe you a proper kiss when we get home and without a thousand people watching.”

“Okay, looking forward to it.” You nod, holding his warm palms.

“And without our girls screaming with their mates.”

You blink as Hobie gently moves your head towards a handful of girls bouncing for joy and yelling ‘otp.’ Whatever that means. Billie shakes Mona by her shoulders, you don't have enhanced eyesight just like your family but you can definitely see their eyes filled with happy tears.

“So this is their plan.” You say while Hobie loops his arm around your shoulders, head placed next to yours. “They are cheeky.”

“They got that from you.”

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ghoulishfrk · 1 year ago

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PAIRING — WARNINGS — WORD COUNT!

〘 Romantic Hobie x Miles Older Sister , Platonic Spiderverse cast x Miles Older Sister | Slight spoilers | ~ .7K words 〙

MASTERLIST !! PINNED POST 🎧💿

ੈ ✮ ˳ Lulus Notes :: Repost, set after ASTV

✩°｡ Tagging :: @punkologist , @neptunes1nterweb , @honeybleed

Miles older sister who takes care of him. She’s the one who knows when something is up and is the one always giving advice.

Miles older sister who had a hunch something was up with her lil brother but wasn’t sure what exactly until she caught him red handed. Him still on his suit in his room.

Miles older sister who had to take a minute to process that her little brother was fucking Spider-Man and understood why he didn’t tell her or their parents.

Miles older sister who becomes his girl behind the screen. She tells him whenever a villain is causing chaos and calls the cops to get the villain he apprehended.

Miles older sister who gets her brother out of suspicion and trouble with their parents, always having a convincing excuse.

“Mija, have you seen miles?”

“Oh, he went to the store to buy more ice cream cones since he ate mine.”

Miles older sister who never leaves her brother suffer by himself. Always hearing out whatever is bothering her brother and giving advice only an older sister could.

Miles older sister who gets caught up on the whole multiverse stuff by her little brother and learns of all the other spidermen her brother considers his friends.

Miles older sister who meets Peter B. Parker and Mayday and is immediately in love with her. She always counts on him to take care of Miles and is ok with babysitting Mayday.

Miles Older Sister who, when she meets Miguel, is not the friendliest. She’s not over how he treated her little brother and doesn’t hide it. She later on goes easier on him since she sees how he’s genuinely sorry and embarrassed by how he reacted.

Miles older sister who is a bit doubtful of Jess. She didn’t think someone who was a mother would’ve acted like she did towards a kid. She learns to trust her later on.

Miles older sister who meets the other spider kids closer to Miles age and immediately approves of them. She’s even willing to make sure they don’t get in trouble with their families.

Miles older sister who becomes an older sister to Pavitr, Gwen, and Peni. She listens to them and gives them advice like she does with Miles. She’d go insane if anything or anyone hurt her kids.

Miles older sister who meets Gwen and immediately likes her. She gives her advice on wooing her brother and getting the approval of their parents.

“Miles loves drawing so you can never go wrong with giving him stuff like drawing books and markers. Oh, and you should call our parents by our last name. Mom hates when kids call her Rio.”

“Wait, seriously? Why didn’t Miles tell me?”

“Cuz he was probably too whipped to tell you lmao”

Miles older sister who, when she meets Hobie, clicks with him in a different way than when she meet the others.

Miles older sister who gets flirted by Hobie and responds with flirting back, only to get caught by Miles and seeing his hilarious reaction.

“Seriously? My sister?!”

“Aye, calm down Peter Pan.”

“C’mon man! Why it gotta be my sister?”

“Miles relájate nene.”

“What do you mean relax?! If i hadn’t come in you probably would’ve been eating each others faces!”

“PFFT-“

Miles older sister who sneaks in Hobie through her window, having to shush him so her parents don’t hear them and have her father storming in.

Miles older sister who gets caught by Rio one day, with her and Hobie having been sitting on her bed talking about random things.

Miles older sister who has to introduce Hobie to her parents. Rio and Jeff are apprehensive at first, Hobies punk appearance not being what they expected for their daughters boyfriend.

Miles older sister who’s glad Hobie gets along with her mom and tries to be civil with her father and tries not to get into politics or fights with them.

“So, Hobie, what do you do for a living?”

“Kick fascists ass and play in my band.”

Just Miles having a nice and caring older sister <3

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punkeropercyjackson · 3 months ago

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'The Greek Big Three Kids are punks and the Roman Big Three Kids are preps'So close!!You actually know nothing about punk culture or poc!Percy is afrosolarpunk and the martyr turned revolutionary Luke thought he was,Thalia is a Sista Grrrl and ace4ace t4t sapphic dating Reyna,Nico and Hazel are afrogoths and Nico is also cpunk because he has chronic pain and fatigue which Percy harrasses Poseidon for meds and mobility aids for and Hazel is canonically punk in the same way Percy is because she's as much of professional instigator and misfit and anarchist as he is and 'girly girl equals normie' is far more pick meish than anything Piper's ever done,Frank is literally a nerd who's seen as a loser but grew into A Cool Dude™️ in hardcore dork flavor by standing up for and fighting for what's right and Jason's a freak of nature who broke out of a militaristic upbringing as his arc!They're ALL punks in one way or another and autistic and trans too and Percy is the Team Parent once again canonically as the ultimate Pjo punk😳What year is it,leave that defanged Hazel and oreo Percy shit in 2014

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iamred-iamyellow · 3 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Suburban Legends

♥ masterlist | request rules | based on this request

♥ pairing: fernando alonso x wife!reader

♥ synopsis: for your husband's birthday you decided to gather the help of the grid in order to create the perfect surprise party.

♥ smau + written - fc: amanda seyfried and girls on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing, mentions of liquoir, and some suggestive-ish jokes !!!

♥ a/n: here's a fernando fic for his birthday! (even though it's already passed by now) tysm to the anon that requested this! I will also be toying with the way I format my fics because much like hobie brown I don't believe in consistency lol. if you want more fernando x wife!reader fics @theyluvkarolina put out one earlier this week and you should go show her some love <3

-Belgium 2024-

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton, nicorosberg, and 1,183,502 more

yn.alonso belgique with nando and our girls <3

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user1 why is her ten year old more aesthetic than me

user7 fanciest family ever

user3 wish I was there

user6 nando looks SO fine

user8 what about Y/N SHE LOOKS GORGEOUS

user10 I cant believe nando's birthday is this week

jensonbutton he's so old

user5 @/jensonbutton you're older than him but go off 😭

user2 my favorite DILFS

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

Your husband Fernando never made his birthday a big deal, but when your daughters begged you to throw him a surprise party, you just had to agree. It was adorable how much they cared about his special day and you knew he'd appreciate it.

Usually his birthday consisted of a stressful race, but since it fell on a Monday this year, it was the perfect opportunity to get everyone together.

This was why you were with Lance. You weren't really "alone" with him either. Not even ten minutes after the picture was posted Nando had dropped off your kids to take them to the beach.

You watched as the girls walked along in the sand, picking up any seashells they found.

"We have everything right? Balloons? Venue? Everyone RSVP'd?" you fidgeted with your bracelet.

"Yes, Y/n we have everything," Lance responded.

"Good. I just want this to be perfect."

"It will be," he smiled.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by lancestroll, fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri, and 972,743 more

yn.alonso brunch & beach with the girls favorite uncle @/lancestroll

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lewishamilton I thought I was the favorite uncle?

fernandoalo_oficial you wish

user1 am I the only one who thinks y/n and Lance are kind of flirty?

user6 yes you are the only one.

nicorosberg the twins have gotten so big

yourusername I know 🥹

user21 wait I'm new to f1. I didn't know Fernando had kids???

user8 @/user21 yea him and y/n have three :) all daughters, making him an unbeatable girl dad. The twins Mariana (the brunette one) and Sofia (the blonde one) are ten and their one year old is named Isabella <3

user3 no bc its so cute that the twins have each of their parents hair colors

user7 lance's job is beach

user12 he is SO Ken

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

Nando couldn't help but notice the way your phone vibrated on the dinner table. This has been going on for a few weeks now. People calling you at odd times, your phone blowing up with texts, randomly going out with the grid...

He knows you would never cheat on him, but he still found it strange that you'd never mentioned anything about this to him. Up until now, you told him everything.

“Who is it?” Fernando asked, taking a bite of his meal.

Mariana and Sofia looked at each other with their eyes wide, not even trying to hide the fact they were in on your little secret.

”What’s this,” Nando gestured to the two girls with his fork. “What are you three up to?” he raised a brow.

”Nothing, mi amor. Let’s just finish eating, yeah?”

“Are you sure? This isn’t something I should be worried about? Sabes que puedes contarme cualquier cosa, ¿verdad?” - (you know you can tell me anything, right?)

“Si, I know. It’s nothing to be worried about. I promise.” you reassured him.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by yn.alonso, lancestroll, astonmartinf1 and 648,942 more

fernandoalo_oficial p5 today

comments are limited

lancestroll we didn’t get the best team result overall but congrats on p5. let’s keep pushing

astonmartinf1 points 💪

yn.alonso proud of you ❤️

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Fernando's Birthday-

The day started off as it usually did. The twins were up super early to jump in the bed with you and cuddle up beside Nando, wishing him a happy birthday.

He always spoiled you and today was the day to return the favor. You made him and the girls breakfast in bed before taking them out sight seeing in Brussels.

"We have one more stop," you said to Fernando who was in the passengers seat.

You pulled up to the venue and led your family through the door. You were holding Isabella as the twins giggled the whole way inside.

"Surprise!!!" everyone yelled as the lights went on.

The room was filled with gold, white, and green balloons and a heart shaped cake was sitting in the middle of a long table.

Fernando smiled and turned towards you, "Mi amor what is this?"

"Your birthday party," you smiled back as his arm snaked around your waist. "It was the twins idea."

”I love you so much,” he said, kissing your temple and ruffling his the twins hair. He held his arms out to hold Isabella.

"Lets drink," Lando held up a bottle of alcohol making everyone cheer.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, aussiegrit, jensonbutton, and 1,592,484 more

yn.alonso happy birthday to the love of my life @/fernandoalo_oficial. you are the most incredible driver, husband, and father and these last fifteen years with you have been an absolute blessing. eres mi todo, mi amor. feliz cumpleaños - (you are my everything, my love. happy birthday) ❤️

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fernandoalo_oficial te amo mucho. gracias cariño ❤️

♡ by yourusername

lancestroll I'm not crying you're crying

carlossainz55 happy birthday cabrón

lewishamilton happy birthday fernando

user7 guys 🥹

user1 this is the cutest thing I've ever seen

astonmartinf1 happy birthday to our fav

♡ by fernandoalo_oficial

user8 THEY LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😭

user2 if my relationship isn't like there's I don't want it

aussiegrit happy birthday mate

♡ by fernandoalo_oficial

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fabled-fiction · 1 year ago

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Maybe a Hobie Brown x Mabel-Pines-Type!Reader? Older obviously, with just like, her personality and fashion sense? A Chaotic Sunshine meets Chaotic Rebel type thing.

If not interested, just ignore. But I look forward to whatever you write!

Starstruck (Hobie Brown x Fem!Sunshine!Reader)

Summary: You’re Jess Drew’s gal in the chair (in training), and when you have to make a quick trip the spider society you happen to catch a certain punk’s eye.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: MINOR SPIDERMAN ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS, use of (Y/N)

A/N: I hope this meets your expectations!! I had alot of fun writing this!

EARTH-1618

KINGS, NEW YORK CITY

Your desk was more glitter than wood at this point.

It was hard to tell where the stickers stopped and where the wood of your desk started.

Especially now, as you squeezed glue on top of whatever artpiece you were currently working on. An array of different paint tubes and what looked like glitter bombs were spread about your work area, dangerously close to what looked like very expensive monitors and pcs. Though it was kind of hard to tell based on all the string worms and star stickers pasted on any surface that wasn’t a screen.

The project, which could only be identified as an oversized button pin upon closer inspection, was coming together nicely. Atleast in your eyes.

It read “BEST SPIDER” with a cute doddle of a spider surrounded by loads of blue, yellow, and red glitter. Currently you were putting your finishing touches on it by attaching color coordinated ribbons to the bottom ruffles.

The craftsmanship alone of it was indeed impressive, you just needed to look past the blinding reflectiveness of it.

It was for your mentor, Spiderwoman.

Who had taken you under her wing for the past two years, “training” you to be the best. Well, best in the sense of “gal in the chair”. At first it didn't make a whole lot of sense to you, but neither did the world you were thrown into. She apparently saw something in you from all the way across the multiverse.

The rest was history.

“(Y-)..(Y/N)...(Y/N)!”

The glue bottle currently in your hands spun in the air, a chaotically beautiful cascade of glue spewing in the air and (thankfully) somehow none of it landed on you. Slowly turning your head, you gave a small wave as you saw said mentor on the screen staring down at you.

“Jess! Hey…did you..did you try calling my watch?”

“What do you think?”

Spinning your chair across the room, you snatched your multiversal watch and flicked the screen on.

You did in fact have about five missed calls from her. You could feel her iced stare from across the room, hell from across dimensions.

“But it was getting in the way of my creative liberties!”

“I don’t care! As the second half of a spider person you need to be available 24/7! Your future spider will need to be able to rely on you.”

Slipping the watch onto your wrist, you shot yourself back over to your desk and smiled widely at her. She knew that whatever scolding she gave you would only have about a few moments effect. Sure the message would stick but she always had that nagging feeling in the back of her mind of how long it truly stuck.

“Well, You have me on the horn now! What's up? Who do I need to aid with my technological wonders? My sleuthing skills? I'm ready to Sherlock it up!”

After a few more long blank faced seconds, Jess reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“We actually need you here. Our resident Spider who usually deals with all of our technological deals is having some connectivity issues.”

Your heart stopped for a moment, but only for a moment before you were shooting out of your seat and whooping. Jumping around your room, you threw your fist in the air before a sudden realization dawned upon you mid air.

It was almost comical how you seemed to pause mid jump.

“Oh my god…I have to change. I can't show up to Spider Society looking like this!”

“(Y/N) there's no time! Grab your bag and get here now.”

Standing in shock, you huffed as you watched your computer screen clip off.

She was crazy if she thought you weren’t at least gonna put on some body glitter.

“Jess said to meet her here…do you think she got lost?”

Hobie shrugged, shoving his hands into his vest pockets. His fingers found themselves fiddling with whatever computer chip or part he had nabbed as he leaned against what could be considered a front desk.

“You know ‘er best. She usually punctual?”

Gwen looked up from her watch with an exasperated look. That told Hobie all he needed to know as he leaned his head back with a sigh.

“Listen! I've never met her in person! She’s one of Jess’s other trainees! I just know she's not a spider, and that despite having worked with Jess for two plus years she's never stepped foot in Spider Society!”

“She’s a chair?”

Pinching her nose, Gwen nodded. “Yea. A pretty good one too. She is a bit…eccentric though. And loud…I think she blew my eardrum out one time. I had tinnitus for like a week...”

“So she’s got some vocals on ‘er aye?”

“Thats all you picked up on? C’mon Hobie help me look for anyone who looks lost we’re supposed to chaperon h-”

Usually the portals that opened here were the usual semi-chaotic reality altering ones. But for some reason the one that just opened in front of them was nothing of the sort. No..this one opened with a loud tear; Everything and everyone in the vicinity was enveloped in a neon pink hue.

It was hard to tell who came stumbling out of the portal, as Hobie feared that if he moved his hand he would temporarily blind himself. But as the portal closed, and everything returned to its normal color palette, he finally dared to move his hand.

Maybe he shouldn’t have moved his hand.

Cause he was only met with a very different, blinding sight.

You had just fully stood from what he could only assume was a clumsy entrance. You wore what could only be described as almost every color of the rainbow but someone you pulled it off. There was absolutely no way you could move silently, as you were adorned in a plethora of kandi bracelets, pastel chains and pins. Your hair was adorned in a multitude of clips that matched the ones on your bag.

Was your smile an accessory too? Hobie was sure it was, cause it was blinding him just as much as the body glitter that was spread over your legs and arms were.

His hand slowly reached up to clutch the chest of his jacket, in hopes that it would remind his heart to beat.

It wasn’t until Gwen had elbowed him in the side (hard enough to bruise might he add) that he remembered to breathe.

“Don’t stare, it's rude.”

He didn’t want to look away.

“Hi! Im Gwen…Stacy! We’ve talked a few times over coms?”

You smiled even wider as you grabbed Gwen’s hand and shook it rather violently (or enthusiastically it could have been confused for either). When she removed her hands from your drip it was left brighter than before for only a moment.

“Hi! Its nice to finally put a non-masked face to the name! Im (Y/N). And you are?”

Your sneakers squeaked as you took a sharp turn to face Hobie fully.

“Im Hobie Brown. Quiet the entrance you made.”

He holds his hand out, and is relieved when you shake it for just as long as you did Gwen’s. He watches as it glowed then returned to its normal saturation.

“Yeaaaa. Apparently my Earth is like WAY brighter than most. I would’ve brought sunglasses if I had known that would happen. Anyways…can you show me to the computer lab..hub…wherever this Spider-Byte normally operates?”

Gwen had taken it upon herself to lead the charge, and include a quick run over tour of whatever facility you all happened to pass on the way to the lab.

Everything was so bright, but what amazed you more were the amount of Spider people that were just casually walking about. Either they were coming back from patrol, returning from break or coming for the first time.

You were sure your neck was gonna hurt or have a permanent crook in it from how much you were whipping your head around and turning to take everything in. You weren’t sure when the next time you would be here would be, so you wanted to take it all in.

“And here is where all the computer magic happens! You uh…know what you’ve gotta do from here right?” Gwen awkwardly raised her hands as if to present the lab.

“Yup! Im TECHNICALLY supposed to monitor your guys software and stuff and blah blah blah but I actually connected with Layla on the way here-who is super sweet by the way-and Im actually just gonna fix Spider-Byte’s connectivity issues here so she can get back to it. Y’know since she’s more knowledgeable with everything here. I would probably just mess something up.”

Despite the fact that you spoke about a mile a minute, and it was obvious Gwen was struggling to keep up, Hobie hung onto every word.

You moved like you had been here before despite this being your first time even stepping foot on the premises. You just moved with this sense of self confidence that had the aura of the room commanded by your presence alone. If you hadn’t told them your Earth just naturally saturated Hobie would have just assumed your essence was just too potent that it leaked off you and onto whatever you touched.

You were leagues above him when it came to the coolness factor.

Watching as you moved around the consoles via spinny chair (when did that get there?), each screen popped up and immediately began to run code. Hobie liked to pride himself on being a tech wiz, but this was levels beyond what he knew how to do. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from you.

But as he watched your hands, he noticed…were you TAKING code off the computers too?

Oh, that just brought a smile to his face.

As Gwen wandered over to the other side of the console to watch the miles of code run across the screen, Hobie took the opportunity to have a moment with you on the opposite side of the room.

Right when you went to shoot across him (and might he add it was almost like you had spider like reflexes with how you moved around on this thing), his hand went to grab the back of your chair.

Pulling the chair back, he watched as you rubber banded back into the seat and stood straight up. He leaned over your shoulder to look at the screen in front of you both. His hand reached over to tap a few keys and pull up the results onto just this screen.

Ignoring how his spider senses were shooting down his spine at an all time high with how close he was to you, he looked at you with a smirk.

“Did you just ‘alf inch some of our code?”

“Im sorry?”

Leaning in closer, he pulled the thumb drive out of only this terminal and held it up. Your cheeks turned a dark red in realization to being caught, and you crossed your arm as you started at him.

“You know wha’ I said”

Turning quickly, you pulled ANOTHER flash drive out from your pocket and stuck it into the port. The downloading resumed, and much to Hobie’s surprise you stood and snatched the thumb drive from him.

“First of all, I am part of the ‘’our’’ and second of all…it's none of your business.”

Suddenly multiple of the screens, well practically all of the screens in the room flashed green. With a pat of his shoulder, you rolled over to every computer and pulled out each flashdrive. Hobie counted…12!

He covered his mouth, trying to keep his cool disposition as he watched you quickly shove each one in your bag. You little grifter you…he would definitely have to find out what Earth you were from…

With the push of a button, you turned to them with a smile as you placed your hands on your hips.

“Alrighty! My work here is done…wait..,”

Turning around, you pressed the enter key on the computer behind you only to whip right back around smile as all the screens returned to normal.

You had been here all but twenty minutes and you managed to do solve all of their problems and then some.

“Now Im done! Gwen, you have my contact coordinate. Call me if you need me at all.”

Your eyes raked over Hobie, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest as he watched you carefully. The hair on your arms stood when he had leaned over you earlier. You could tell from his punk aesthetic and impressive hair that he was definitely anarchy incarnate…

He intrigued you. You were sure the data files you had picked up from the archives would barely answer every question you had about him.

You would have to push off your paper mache project for tonight…

“It was nice meeting you Hobie! Hope we can meet again sometime. Im like, basically free all the time…Later!”

Signing off with a peace sign, your neon portal opened again and closed in an instant as you fell into it.

“See what I mean, eccentric.”

“I thought she was pretty cool.”

Walking over to where you just stood, Hobie ran his fingers over where you had last touched hoping to catch some of the light leftover.

It was then he noticed you had left behind one of your thumb drives. It was definitely yours, a bright neon yellow covered in white glitter that fell off as he picked it up. His other hand came down to pick up the tag on the string connected to it.

‘Oops! Guess I left behind this VERY important thumb drive. Mind returning it to me? I like really need it for super duper important chair stuff…Earth 1618, Kings, New York City things y'know.

– (Y/N)’

#hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk #x reader #across the spiderverse #oneshot #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #marvel x reader

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cherryredstars · 7 months ago

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hello cherry! i hope you are having a wonderful new year because i know i am.

little info, this is the same slut who requested overstimulated hobie brown. i read it, gorgeous. literally screenshotted it because of how good it was. i need more of it and i am willing to fight with a spear and a shield for it.

so you know like, 70s/80s are when female domination finally was at it's peak? yes so i would like to request a very dominant and MEAN (maybe even older/more experienced though honestly thats up to you) reader. make her mean its hot. not that being rude is hot, but i like women just as much as i like xy beings and i like my women kinda fucked up

thank you🙏

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Slight Degradation, Choking, Penetrative Sex, Facesitting, Face Slapping, Hair Pulling, Sub!Hobie

Summary: Power to the woman.

A/N: So glad you loved it! Hope you enjoy this one too!!

Word Count: 1.8K (Not Edited)

The sound of his head hitting the wall is muffled by his moan.

His hands grab desperately to your sides, his eyes rolling back when you suck hard at his lip piercing, the sting of pain going straight to his cock. Your hands are fisted around the lapels of his leather jacket, pushing him harder against the wall. Your hand falls away from his jacket, going further down until you roughly cup his bulge. He groans, his head leaning back as your mouth starts trailing kisses against his neck. Smudges of dark red lipstick stain his skin, being accompanied by hickeys as you bite and suck on him. His hips buck into hand as you return to kissing his lips. For a second, he tries to gain control, pushing back on you and fighting your tongue with his.

Your brows furrow, your other hand leaving his jacket and wrapping the front of his neck. You use your entire weight to push back on him, your hand squeezing his neck enough to make breathing slightly harder. He whimpers when he’s forced back against the wall, quickly losing the battle between your tongues. Your tongue invades his mouth triumphantly, exploring his mouth before pulling away. His lips try to follow yours, but the hand around his neck prevents him from getting far. You tsk at him, shaking your head. You press your lower body against his, grinding your front to his bulge. He hisses, his hold on your hips tightening.

“That wasn’t very nice of you, Hobie.” You sneer, squeezing his neck tighter before letting go. Hobie coughs slightly, his chest heaving as his breathing comes easy. “A pathetic attempt on your part.”

Hobie smirks slightly, tilting his head to the side. “What can I say, love? Y’make me weak.”

Your hand slaps his cheek, his head moving to the slide before you quickly grab his chin and force his face down to yours. You have a disgusted look on your face, and Hobie resists the urge to whine. “Don’t smart mouth me, little boy. Get on the bed.”

He can feel his cock twitch in his pants, his eyes going hazy as he looks down at you. You scoff, pushing away from him. Hobie quickly shrugs off his jacket, grabbing his white beater from behind his neck and pulling it over his head. He throws it to the floor, looking down as his hands rushes to undo the button and pull them down his legs. His underwear goes with the pants, leaving him fully naked as he rushes to the bed. He throws himself onto it, leaning on his elbows as he sits at the edge. You’ve stripped too, leaving yourself in your bra. The rest of your body is bare, exposed to him. Hobie groans as he looks at your body, biting his lip as you straddle his lap.

His hands fall to your thighs, squeezing them. Your hand goes to the nape of his neck, massaging the base of his head before your hand grabs a fist-full of his wicks. He winces as you pull his head back, forcing him to look up at you. You tilt your head to the side, your other hand coming up to trace the shape of his jaw. He gulps as your thumb presses into his chin, your face leaning down towards his ear. You blow warm air against his neck, causing his body to shiver.

“Do you want to make me feel good, Hobie?” You whisper into his ear, your voice dripping with sexual appeal. Hobie tries to nod, wincing again when he remembers his hair in your hands.

“Yes,” he mumbles, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs.

You smile, licking the shell of his ear before pulling away. Your hands leave his hair and chin, moving to his chest. You push him, making him fall back to his elbows. Your hands fall to either side of his head, your nose almost bumping into his. Hobie’s breath hitches, eyes dropping to your lips before moving back to your eyes. You raise an eyebrow at him, tilting your head again.

“Good, then be a good little boy and lay on your back at the top of the bed.” You demand, pushing yourself up until you’re kneeling on the bed.

Hobie is quick to follow your directions, pushing himself backwards and laying his head back on the pillows. You follow him once he’s laid flat on the bed, his eyes glued to your form. Your knees land on either side of his head. Hobie can’t decide where to look, his breath elevated as he looks between your face and your sweet pussy. You smirk, your hand landing on his head to keep his gaze on your cunt. Your other hand slides down your body, two of your fingers spreading your pussy lips apart so he can see the slick dripping from your entrance. Hobie groans at the sight, licking his lips as his mouth goes dry.

Your hand joins your other on Hobie’s head, tilting it back. You slowly lower yourself, your thighs bouncing the second you’re fully seated on his face. Hobie’s eyes go to your face, half-lidded as his hands come to your thighs.

“Suck.” You demand, grinding your hips down onto his face.

He groans as his mouth opens and latches onto your clit, sucking and licking at it. You moan softly, your eyes closing in bliss. You tighten your hold on his hair, a vibration running throughout your body as he moans against your cunt. Your hips buck, his nose rubbing against your clit messily. His breath comes out in sharp exhales from his nose, warming your mound before being smothered with your cunt. His eyes are hazy, hands tightening on your thighs as he laps at your pussy. Wet clicks sound under you, the echoes of his tongue lolling being amplified by the walls.

“More,” you sigh out, slapping one hand against the wall, the other keeping his head in place as you grind down on his face, “C’mon, Hobie. Tongue fuck me.”

Hobie’s eyes squeeze shut, mumbling against your pussy lips. You moan out when his tongue prods at your entrance, slipping in and licking at your throbbing walls. You curse under your breath, bouncing down on his face slightly to push his tongue in and out of you. The small sounds of skin slapping against skin masks Hobie’s whines, his hands coming up to your hips to glue your cunt to his face. You can tell his tongue is starting to ache by how sloppy it is when he flicks over your clit and tries to find your hole again. Feeling nice, you bring your hand to your clit, pinching at the bud until it triggers your orgasm.

Hobie laps it up greedily, swallowing it down as he shakes his head to collect every drop. You hiss, getting off his face as your thighs twitch. Hobie pants under you, the lower part of his face shiny with your slick. His tongue peaks from his lips, licking up whatever he can. Even in his dazed state, he forces his eyes to follow you as you go further down his body. He pushes himself up on his elbows just in time to watch you extend your hand, squeezing hard around his tip. He whines, hips jolting as he falls onto his back again.

You chuckle, letting go of him as you go to straddle his lap. Your hands are planted on his chest, keeping you balanced as you lift your hips. You tease your cunt over his tip, making him breath out shakily. Your hand slides up his chest, slipping around his neck, effectively distracting him before you slam your hips down on his cock. He cries out as his tip hits your cervix, his back arching off the bed before your hand pushes his chest down flat to the bed. One of his hands wraps around the wrist of your hand around his neck as you begin to squeeze, simultaneously lifting your hips and sinking back down on him. He whines at you, eyes rolling to the back of his head as your walls suction around his throbbing cock.

You scoff, lightening your hold around his neck. “I just started fucking you and you’ve already gone stupid.”

“You’re. Acting. Like. A. Virgin.” You grit out, punctuating each word with a hard slam of your hips. Hobie only turns his head to the side, breathing heavily as his cock twitches inside of you.

You laugh meanly, letting go of his neck. You force his head back to the position it was in before, slapping his cheek before grabbing his neck again. You glare down at him, your hips never slowing as you begin to cut off his air flow. His head is getting fuzzy from the lack of oxygen and from the pleasure coursing through his body, whimpering weakly as he ruts his hips into you.

“I didn’t tell you to look away.” You scold. “Keep your eyes on me until you cum.”

He nods the best he can, his hands grabbing at your waist and squeezing the skin to help him fuck up into you. You moan, rewarding him by lightening your grip on his neck. He sucks in air greedily, gasping and choking on his moans. You can feel your orgasm fast approaching, making your hips just barely lift as you chase the pleasure. Hobie can feel your walls clench around his cock, causing him to moan and whisper pleas for you to cum around his cock. It sets you off, crying out as you slam your hips down on his one last time before your body twitches with your orgasm. Hobie hisses as he empties soon after, lazily fucking up into you to help the both of your ride out your orgasms.

You breathe heavily, your eyes closing as your hand falls away from Hobie’s neck. You slowly push yourself off of him, landing beside him on the bed. His head is already turned towards you, a fucked-out look still on his face. You smile at him, turning on your side so you lean on your elbow. Your finger traces his jawline, your thumb dragging down his bottom lip. You give his cheek two quick pats before you push yourself off the bed.

You grab your panties and pants, pulling them on before grabbing your own tank top and throwing Hobie’s leather jacket over it. You walk to the cracked mirror hanging on Hobie’s wall. You ruffle up your hair, swiping your thumb against the smudge of lipstick near the bottom of your lip as you see Hobie sit up on bed. You turn when you’ve fixed yourself up, walking back to him. You grab him by the chin, pulling him into a deep kiss. He moans against your lips, following after you as you pull away. You push him back onto the bed, walking away and to his door. You turn one last time towards him, giving him a moving wave.

“Guess you weren’t that much of a loser after all.”

I’d let reader top me.

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lazypanartist · 1 year ago

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HIIIII!! <333

I would like to request a Hobie Brown x Spider woman reader that is hard to track down because she likes to go into different universes to cause chaos and every time she ends up in a fight with an anomaly and it ends really bad sometimes because she’s reckless? I LOVE YOUR WORK BTW YOURE SO TALENTED

Tysm!!

Hobie x Reckless! Spider-Woman Reader

Probably bastardized his accent but whatever, mention of injury

-----

It was par for the course, really.

Hobie rolled his eyes as Miguel pinched between his own, the older man sighing quietly.

"Your girlfriend. Again."

Hobie shrugged, but deep down there was a slight fear gnawing at his stomach."

"You know she's probably hurt."

"'Course." He shrugged again. "'S what she does. Rushes in, pokes 'er nose where it prbably shouldn't be, gets inna couple'a fights."

"Gets hurt." Miguel emphasized.

"Sir," Lyla popped up on Miguel's device, interrupting his train of thought. Hobie glanced towards her, heart soaring at the implication.

"I've tracked her signature. Straight to an anomaly."

"Of course." Miguel sighed deeply from his nose before shaking his head.

He was always so thankful for Lyla, her being able to find you when nobody else could predict your next move. It was endearing to him, but her help was probably one of the only things keeping you from dying.

"Hobie."

"On it."

He didn't think it should be possible, this innate sense of anomaly seeking. Then again..

Not much was impossible. There was always a reality where things worked a little differently.

When he popped out of his portal, he only had a moment to reach out and grab your arm as you flew past. He relished in the quiet "oomf" you let out into his chest.

It meant you were alive.

"Hey, babe." You mumbled up at him.

"Hey. Miguel told me where to find you."

"Oof." You lifted your head, nodding towards a flickering structure. "Ock anomaly. Tossed me pretty good."

"I could tell." He touched down on a building, setting you gently on your feet. He watched you brush off momentarily before your eyes were fixed back on the building.

"You're not going back in."

When you gave him an incredulous look he merely smiled, bumping his shoulder to yours.

"Not alone."

The smile you gave him could fuel him for days, he thought, following you back into your firefight.

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year ago

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Hobie brown x male!spiderman!reader where they’re “boyfriends” (more like best friends with benefits type thing) from different dimensions and haven’t seen each other in a while due to reader being kind of busy with SM stuff but one day reader shows up to hobies dimension in search of comfort because a canon event caused his older brother to die! Loving your hobie fics btw your whole blog is just good asf😭🫶💞

Here ya go! I hope you like it and I thank you for your kind words, they really mean a lot as I haven’t been feeling that great as of late, so this really made my day.

You felt as though you couldn’t breath, like the breath has been ripped straight out of your lungs, leaving you to struggle in finding fresh, unpolluted air to take in, to revitalise your lungs from the damage they’ve received; But you weren’t going to get that if you were to stay here.

Your head and heart were murky with every emotion imaginable trying to overtake each other as your primary feeling whilst your body was screaming at you to run, to leave, to get away because he was already dead before he even hit the ground; reminding you that you could mourn the dead later but as of right now you needed to get to the place you felt safest. But you weren’t going to get that if you were to stay here.

So without putting in much thought into anything anymore with your mind so far from reality and your emotions in a state of self destructive chaos, your change of scenery wasn’t brought into question until you heard the familiar sound of a guitar playing before it immediately stopped, only for it to be replaced by the sound of curious footsteps that grew in volume with they’re impending closeness. You knew those footsteps by heart and the type of shoes that made them but knew the male who wore those platforms like the back of your hand; Hobie’s warmth brought you a comfort that couldn’t be recreated nor imitated because even if it was even remotely the slightest bit off, you body naturally rejected it and would indiscreetly crave for the real thing.

For nothing could bring you more comfort, more sense of mind then being in Hobie’s arms.

‘Y/n?’ Even at the sound of his voice had your guarded walls crumbling.

‘Hobie, please tell me that’s you and not some sick trick of the mind.’ You whimpered, clutching the vest that he had left in your dimension between tightly clenched fists, while remaining adamant on keeping your back to him until you were for certain that he was in the room, talking to you, almost as though you were reassuring that deep seeded doubt that he was alive and okay.

In a couple of strides Hobie had his front pressed against your back as his arms cocooned you tightly in a method of preventing you moving away from his hold. ‘Does this feel like me?’ He asked softly, his heart hurting as he watched you instinctively huddled further into his chest until practically all of you was submerged against him. Just as your tears had begun to fall down your cheeks and creating wet patches against his shirt that you were adamant on clinging so desperately to. ‘Oh pretty boy.’ Hobie utters as he tightened his hold on you, allowing you to weep freely without judgment as all he wanted for you to do in that moment was to let it all out in whatever way you found best; whether it was to scream, cry, punch, or otherwise, Hobie would rather you be vocal about you pain rather then subduing it for a later date.

‘My brother died Hobie,’ you wept. ‘he died and I couldn’t save him, I wasn’t fast enough to reach him, I wasn’t strong enough to catch him as he fell, I wasn’t able enough to change anything.’ You gripped his shirt even tighter as you clenched your eyes shut as the imagery of the prior events proceeded to mock you of your biggest failure as Spider-Man as you added in a near inaudible whisper. ‘I don’t deserve to be Spider-Man. He’s meant to save people, not lead them to their deaths.’ Hobie knew that you didn’t meant for him to hear any of the last part but he very much did and felt that it was within his due diligence to remind you of how utterly bullshit that statement was because he’s making damn sure you don’t quit being what you so clearly love.

‘I want you to listen and listen good because I want what I say to you to stick with you so that when you get like this again, you’ll remember your worth and what you’ve always been fighting for; hope.’ Hobie began. ‘You were meant to be Spider-Man as much as I or any other Spider-Person in existence. Miguel’s bullshit has made you think that your value is based on the pain and the suffering we’ve endured and how there’s nothing we can do to combat it once it comes for us again, and again, and again. Forcing you to your knees in grief and sorrow but you want to know what you should do when that happens?’

‘What?’ You asked, removing your face from his chest to look him into his deep eyes with bleary eyes, practically melting into his touch when his hands moved to cup your face, rubbing his thumbs across your cheeks free of tear streaks. ‘Get back up.’ Hobie tells you. ‘Get back up because the fight ain’t over and it’ll never be over if you decide to give up now.’ He then sighs as he presses his head against yours in order to get closer to you. ‘Look I know it’s hard to keep going when they’re no longer here to root for us, to be there for us when we lick our wounds but it’ll only ever feel like that because you actively choose to stop remembering them, to stop honouring their memory within your heart, stop remembering their love and stop seeing them in everything they’ve touched, that’s when you know true loneliness. But your brother is still here,’ Hobie then brought one of your hands and pressed it against your chest to where your heart lied.

‘He’s right here and he will always be here, I will always be here for you in the moments you seemed to have lost your fighting spirit, to loose the willpower to keep going because I’ll happily carry you on my back until you do because that’s what we do, not only as Spider-Men but humans also. It’s practically in our nature.’ Just as Hobie was about to pull his hand off of yours, you were quick to grasp his hand and pulled it back towards you but only to place it over your heart, pressing you own hand atop of his to keep him there. There was a lot you wanted to tell Hobie that could wait until you were in a much better situation but even then you still had a lump in your throat that hindered your ability to speak your mind freely; which never usually happens when you’re with Hobie and it seemed as though he had caught onto this as well as he smiled reassuringly. ‘It’s okay, take your time.’

‘Will you stay with me? Just for a little while longer.’ You finally asked, racked with nervousness and anxiety as you fiddled with his fingers for his response. Hobie’s smile widens as he closed his eyes, brushing his nose against yours all the while making sure to keep you close in his embrace. ‘I’ll stay even long after you’re done needing me because I will always be standing in your corner, pretty boy.’

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hyperfix-wip · 22 days ago

Text

Octobie Wildcard: Double Interrogation

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Detective! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Detective! Reader

Summary: Hobie reluctantly accepts going into a police interview but bites off more than he could chew once he realizes his ex will be interviewing him.

Word count: 4.8k

Author's Note: I MADE IT IN TIME FOR WEEK 3!!! I'd like to thank @pinksugarscrub for beta reading an earlier draft of it! Event by @the-kr8tor and banners by @mushroom-graphics-allotment . This prompt is based on a DND campaign from Dimension 20’s Unsleeping City: https://youtu.be/Ukt_uoeh_YY?si=laDicS-fMXIMazGB

Tags: Ex!Hobie, Older!Hobie, Ex!Reader, Older!Reader, Detective!Reader, American!Reader, Explicit Language, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

As far as Hobie can remember, this is probably the first time he’s been inside a police station without being charged for something.

He sits back against the backrest of the metal chair in the interrogation room, tipping the chair back and balancing it on its back legs while his long, gangly legs rest on the dark wooden table. It was a surprise for Hobie when his friend Gwen begged him to go into a police interview in her stead for a freak criminal attack at a wedding in Manhattan, resulting in a few civilian casualties and the capture of some obscure criminal duo he can’t seem to remember at the moment. She knows damn well about how he feels about those blue pigs– especially with his history with the corrupt law system back home– but any inkling of refusal died on his tongue the moment she mentioned that the interview was going to be with her dad of all people. Seeing Gwen’s desperation to keep her identity a secret as she trembles in front of him, Hobie could only sigh and reluctantly agree.

Damn, he’s getting soft.

A quiet groan rumbles in his chest as he rolls his head back to look up at the ceiling. The room itself is dim, with only a couple of barred windows filtering sunlight inside and a small light hanging in the middle of the ceiling. The dingy fan quickly spins around, making the silver plastic pull chain swaying back and forth with soft clinks echoing in the room. His spider senses tingle in a low hum against his skin as another bored groan rumbles up from his throat. His eyes glance over to the one-way glass, his brows furrowing from his spider senses not picking up any bodies on the other side of the window, before brushing it off and glancing back up at the ceiling.

Thought there were supposed to be a group of them watching over these kinds of interviews, Hobie thinks to himself as his hand reaches up to the hem of his mask and pulls it up halfway. He absently tugs on his lip ring with his front teeth while he scratches his chin, his scruff brushing against his calloused fingers. He’s tempted to push himself off the uncomfortable chair and get the hell out of this room, but the hairs of his arms barely stand up before the heavy metal door finally opens. A uniformed young woman with a police badge walks into the room with a tray of small chocolate biscuits and a paper cup with the tea bag string hanging off the lip.

“Sorry about this,” the young officer shyly sets the plate and cup down on the table in front of him. “I know you were supposed to meet with Captain Stacy and the rest of the Criminal Investigations Unit, but there was an emergency hostage situation at Upper Manhattan, and… well, I’m sure you and the rest of the Spider Gang are already aware of it and are already taking care of it with them.”

Her eyes then widen as she nervously smiles at him, “but we do appreciate you coming here to cooperate with one of our other cases! I just hope this isn’t a waste of your time being here instead of with your team.”

A small scoff slips through Hobie’s lips as he grabs the warm paper cup, his nose subtly crinkling from the familiar smell of Lipton tea wafting into his nostrils before he politely takes a sip. “S’alright, love,” Hobie reassures her with a wave of his hand. “I’m sure all of the other Spiders are handling it without me.”

Although being over there would probably be a lot more interesting, Hobie thought to himself before grabbing a chocolate biscuit and taking a bite of it. The bittersweet chocolate and hazelnut flavor floods his mouth before he reluctantly washes it down with the hot flavored water (he refuses to call that tea). “Should I come back at a later time if the captain–” Hobie internally grimaces from the polite term– “is unavailable?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry!” the young woman smiles at him sheepishly. “One of the detectives from the CIU will still be able to interview you. She just needs to gather all of the files Captain Stacy left her before he and the rest of the unit left.”

The young woman then starts to head towards the door, “I’ll check up on her, so hang tight.”

As the young woman leaves the room, the polite smile ghosting Hobie’s face instantly disappears before a bored frown takes over. He lifts his arm to check on his Web-Watch, already scanning through the updates from the other Spiders and their missions, including the hostage situation mentioned earlier. His eyes soften as he sees a small photo of Mayday and Peni hanging over a ledge with some Jamaican patties in their hands while Gwen, Miles and Pavitr swing into what seems like the Alchemax building.

A small snort slips through his nose as a small smile curls up on his lips. Even after working with them for almost ten years, he still can’t help but remember all of them as the bright-eyed young Spiders. Even Mayday, who he met with Peter when she was only a year old, has grown up into the fiery little spitfire that he knew she would become, helping out behind the scenes with the rest of the younger Spiders while the veterans handle the more dangerous missions.

Fuck, Hobie’s getting old.

Hobie shakes his head and tugs his mask back down as he continues to scroll through all of the updates, his eyes quickly spotting an exasperated Captain Stacy and a bewildered Captain Morales-Davis of the Emergency Service Unit, before a private message from Gwen pops up. His brows furrow as he taps onto the message on the screen while more messages pop up.

Gwen: Just saw my dad at Alchemax

Gwen: Almost all of CIU actually

Gwen: Well…except one

Gwen: Sorry, Hobs 😭

Wait, what?

Before Hobie can respond to the messages, his skin crawls underneath his spandex and his heart almost drops to his stomach from the familiar tingle in the back of his head, that tingle sending an overwhelming, bittersweet wave of emotions he was not prepared for. He instantly jumps up from his seat and knocks the metal chair over, the chair clattering against the linoleum flooring, but the heavy metal door opens before he could pry the bars off one of the windows.

His eyes quickly dart at the young officer standing underneath the doorway with some papers in her arms, and right behind her is you.

You, one of the youngest detectives of the Criminal Investigations Unit in the New York Police Department. The rookie detective who helped the newly-formed Spider-Gang at the time figure out and crack down the notorious Sinister Six at the height of their power. The detective in the running to be promoted to Sergeant despite your age. One of the few people who personally knows all of the Spider-Gang’s identities.

And his ex-girlfriend.

Hobie quietly mutters an “ah fuck” under his breath before he reluctantly picks the metal chair back up and flops back down on the seat, resigned to the awkward conversation awaiting him. At the same time, you stare at him with a stoic face while slowly walking into the interrogation room, setting an old-school recorder down on the table across from him while the young officer sets the files down in front of you. You quietly thank her as you take your seat across from Hobie, and she nods back at you before glancing over at Hobie again. With a slight blush on her cheeks, she turns away and scurries out of the room, closing the metal door behind her.

An awkward silence instantly looms inside the interrogation room as you adjust the recorder and straighten out the stack of paperwork, your eyes staying downcast and on the items in front of you while you ignore Hobie’s tensely apprehensive figure. His skin crawls and tingles at the sight of you in spite of his dread of seeing you again after the tumultuous breakup before your transfer to the CIU. After that you mainly kept in contact with the rest of the Spider-Gang throughout your career, seeking their cooperation when there were metahuman cases that you deemed too dangerous for the NYPD alone, and made no contact with him for five years until today.

And he's going to have a very long talk with Gwen after he’s done with this damn interview.

With everything set up to your liking, you let out a reluctant sigh of your own before finally looking up at him.

“You can take the mask off,” you finally break the silence as you massage the bridge of your nose. “Nobody else is here to watch over this, and I already disabled all the cameras in the room. Per request by Ghost Spider, of course.”

Hobie furrows his brows at your cool, formal demeanor, as if you don’t go out for lunch with Gwen during your rare days off– not that he needed to know that– but he shrugs it off. True to your word, his spider senses only sense you in the room and no one else on the other side of the one-way glass, and with a grudging sigh, his hand reaches up to the hem of his spike-mohawked mask before slowly peeling it off his face. His newly twisted dreads flutter down to his shoulders, and his silver piercings glint against the lights as his piercing dark eyes land on yours again. His eyes briefly soften at the obvious dark circles under your eyes and the slight gauntness of your cheeks before hardening to a bored stare again.

You stare at him back with your own impassive look in your eyes before speaking again. “Thank you. Now, per protocol, I will ask for your permission to record this interview–”

“Is that really necessary?” Hobie interrupts you, his annoyance slowly peeking through as he clenches his jaw and furrows his brows again.

Your eyes sharpen with an unamused narrow as you sit back against your seat and cross your arms against your chest. With a click of his tongue and a scoff, he looks away from you and waves his hand, signaling you to continue.

“...as I was saying,” you resume with a hint of irritation in your voice, “do I have your consent to record this interview?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Hobie mutters under his breath, and you ignore the slight twitch in your eye before continuing.

“Alright then,” you manage to keep most of your irritation out of your voice as you press the play button on the recorder with a click. “This is Detective Y/N L/N of the New York Police Department 21st Precinct Criminal Investigations Unit. I am currently interviewing a member of the vigilante group Spider-Gang, Spider-Punk–”

“Spider-Man.”

“No, I’m not calling you that–”

“Spider-Man.”

“There’s like five Spider-Men in the group. I am not confusing Captain Stacy with which Spider-Man I’m talking to when he reviews this tape–”

“Spider. Man.”

You let out an exasperated groan and massage your temples as a small headache ebbs out from his stubbornness. Breathing in a deep breath before slowly exhaling until your lungs briefly deplete, you stare at Hobie with a deadpan before relenting with a roll of your eyes.

“Correction, the member is Spider-Man–” you narrow your eyes at him with an annoyed look as he gives back a mocking smirk before reverting back to his guarded nonchalance, “ –also known as Mr. Brown as provided by Ghost Spider–”

Hobie instantly sits up on the metal chair with a loud scrape, staring at you with disbelief as you instantly stop the recording with a scowl of your own.

“Have you lost the bloody plot?! The hell are you doing giving my last name–”

“Hey– Gwen was the one who gave the damn list of aliases for you guys. I don’t know why the hell you were just written as Mr. Brown, but that’s what she picked for you!”

“Goddamnit–” Hobie clenches his fists in the air with a frustrated inhale, briefly lamenting why none of the Spiders know how to lie properly, before heaving out another sigh. “Y’know what, whatever. Fine. I don’t– just– just keep going.”

As Hobie drops back down on his seat with a disgruntled huff, you roll your eyes with a slow angry exhale before you press play on the recorder again. “As stated before, Spider-Man, also known as Mr. Brown, is in interview room 138 with me today for the metahuman criminal attack at a wedding in Central Park. As requested by Ghost Spider, the interviewee will be referred to by an alias to protect their civilian identities if there is an unforeseeable future where any tapes involving the vigilante group fall into the wrong hands.”

You clear your throat before looking up at him with a professional, impassive deadpan. “Now, Mr. Brown, thank you for coming into this interview–”

“You seriously gon’ call me Mr. Brown,” Hobie scoffs under his breath as he crosses his arms against his chest, and your eye twitches again as you glare at him across the table.

“Are we really doing this now?”

“Oh my god– no, I just– this thing is just–”

“I’m at work, okay–”

“Yeah, I get that, but Mr. Brown is just fucking stu–”

“So the thing here with me, ‘bie, is that I’m at work right now. Okay?”

Hobie clicks his tongue and looks away from you again, ignoring the small flutter from hearing your slip of the tongue with that stupid pet name. Meanwhile your eyes harden and sharpen at him as you stare daggers at him, one of your hands balling up into a fist as you take another breath to calm down before you continue on with the interview.

“So, Mr. Brown,” you emphasize with as much irritation in your voice as you can without breaking your professional demeanor while glancing at the papers, “Based on my understanding with one of the written interviews with Spider-Byte at the crime scene, you were one of the first respondents who arrived at the scene to stop the attack of…”

You glance at the paper again and raise an eyebrow, your eyebrows furrowing in slight disbelief of the next words coming out of your mouth.

“...Styx and Stone.”

“May break my bones,” Hobie mutters under his breath as he glances at you with a bored look again before straightening up on his seat. “Yeah, I was one of the first respondents to arrive at the scene, along with another vigilante who was there before me.”

In a petty impulse, a strained smirk curls up on his face. “Black Cat, who I have personally worked very intimately with along with the rest of the Spider-Gang–”

CLICK!

“Fuck you!”

“No, fuck you–”

“Fuck you–”

“No, fuck you–”

“Go fuck yourself–”

“A’ight, I don’ actually want to do this–” Hobie growls out as he holds his hands up in a frustrated surrender, but you were still fuming across from him.

“I always knew there was something going on between you two–”

“No, there was nothing–” Hobie sputters out as he slams his hands against the table and pushes himself up from the table and glares at you– “there is NOTHING between me and Felicia–”

“Felicia?!” You bark back as you follow suit, slamming your own hands against the wooden table and pushing yourself up. “Oh, so you two are on first name bases now, since you two are so intimately acquainted–”

“Oh my fucking god–”

“You’re such a piece of shit, you fucking dog–”

“No, don’t even start this shit!” Hobie’s voice grows louder and rumbles against the walls.

“Oh, please–” you scoff as an overwhelming surge of adrenaline grows and lumps up in the back of your throat– “so you’re telling me you were faithful, protector of New York City–”

“I AM FAITHFUL!” Hobie screams out in anger and anguish, his hands balling up into fists as he slams one of them against the table, “I WAS FAITHFUL! I WOULD HAVE CONTINUED TO BE FAITHFUL–”

Both of you scoff and look away from each other as you both slowly lower yourselves onto your seats again, the brief fire of the familiar, bitter back-to-back from the end of your relationship now extinguishing into a slow, quiet simmer. After a long moment of awkward silence, Hobie lets out a defeated sigh.

“...’s not actually like that,” he quietly admits as he slowly slumps down on the metal chair, the hard edges digging into his flesh. “I just…”

Your eyes flick back to him, his figure almost shrinking under your scrutiny before Hobie finally looks at you with an unreadable expression.

“I…I’m just miffed, alright?” he adds on with a slight sulk. “She was there to try to nab some expensive necklace the bride had ‘cuz the groom was from some rich family, so it was just a coincidence for her to be there during the attack…”

Hobie squirms under your hawk-like gaze, oblivious to your eyes softening slightly the longer you look at him. “I don’t– I don’t why I said it like that, it was honestly just business as usual…”

You stay quiet as he trails off, the raw hurt and resentment still lingering in your chest, before you look back down at the papers with a tired sigh of your own. “Business. Right.”

You absently worry your bottom lip with your front teeth, which Hobie’s eyes briefly linger onto before flicking away, before you glance back up to him and press the play button on the recorder again. “So, what? Was that attack from Styx and Stone just a coincidence or something, or are they connected to like a bigger organization like the Sinister Six–”

“No, no,” Hobie instantly shakes his head as he runs his fingers along his dreads, “it’s a fucking coincidence. The gang and I made sure to look into them ‘n everythin’. Think one of them had some personal connection with the bride’s side or sumthin’.”

You let out a low acknowledging hum as you flip through some of the papers. “Hm, yeah, I think one of my colleagues got that written down, but I don’t think they got the full details.”

Your fingers continue to leaf through the paperwork, your eyes downcast to avoid looking at him now. “Did you or any other member find out what the connection was, or if you heard any other conspiracy of another attack from the duo or a key witness at the scene?”

Hobie’s face drops to a pensive frown as his hand reaches up to scratch the scruff of his chin. “According to Stone, I think, his partner used to work for the bride’s father’s research company, and the father laid him off and cut the funding of his lab work or sumthin’. Tryin’ t’ r’member what that company’s called. Sumthin’ Chemical–”

“No, the name is fucking pretentious,” you mutter under your breath as you grab one of the papers and bring it closer to yourself. “Symbi-Ottic Chemical.”

“Yeah, that,” Hobie nods along with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Apparently they had some scandal involving some animal-testing that they had to sweep under the rug. Pinned the blame on the scientist one of the duo, and he wanted some revenge ‘n shit. Petty shit.”

You give another hum of tepid acknowledgement as you grab the rest of the papers on the table and shuffle them, your face reverting back to that impassive deadpan before you stop the recording again. Hobie raises his pierced eyebrow in confusion before you prop your elbows on the table and lean forward.

“This is strictly off the record,” you sigh with reluctance, your fingers fidgeting slightly against each other, “I just came across this information, so not even Captain Stacy and the rest of my team know about this, but…”

Hobie slowly leans forward against the table, waiting for you to continue. You hesitate from his gradual closeness before you glance away and brush it off.

“Symbi-Ottic Chemical is a branching company of Alchemax.”

Hobie’s eyes widen as you continue. “And knowing that Alchemax was a merger between Oscorp and another chemical company, I am merely speculating that the attack at Central Park and Alchemax might be more connected to each other than we both initially thought…”

You shrug while setting the stack of papers down on the table. “I don’t know. I’m just… I doubt this can actually be related to the Sinister Six since Osborn is gone, and I don’t have any conclusive evidence or anything like that, but…I’m trusting you guys could look into that hunch for me, okay?...”

Still reeling from that small revelation, Hobie quietly nods as he grabs his mask from the table. Your eyes glance over at the spiked mask before you shake your head and look away with a huff of disbelief.

“My life’s a fucking comic book.”

“Okay, seriously–”

Hobie stares at you in disbelief while you glare back at him, “No, because this whole–” you gesture to his spider suit in frustration– “costume getup, supervillain attacks and conspiracies, and the whole secret identity - slash - double-life bullshit is getting ridiculous!”

Hobie groans as he rubs his face against his hands before looking back at you with a tired stare. “Y/N, you’re still in law enforcement. You’re still taking care of normal crime shit, not just the metahuman cases–”

“Oh, oh– so I should just get used to stopping some purse snatcher that may or may not have some fucking superpower that could–”

You quickly cut yourself off and hold your hands up in the air, the headache from before gradually throbbing as you take another breather. “I…probably… go through, like, six cups of coffee a night just to go through all the paperwork for these metahuman cases–”

“That is so bad for you, Cherry,” Hobie interjects with a flash of concern in his eyes, not noticing his slip of the tongue, “you could at least call me or something if you’re struggling with that–”

“Oh, what, so you can do your fucking–” you wiggle your fingers in agitation– “spidey hands?!”

Hobie groans into his hands again, his fingers pressing against his eyeballs in frustration as tension builds up in his shoulders. His hands slowly drag down to look at you with a haggard stare. “Look, I- I don’t want to argue with you about this…”

“I joined the forces so I can help people, Hobie,” you cross your arms against your chest as your eyes grow glassy, ignoring the burning sensation rising up in your chest. “I didn’t sign up to deal with the politics between humans and metahumans and the cleanup of the aftermath–”

Hobie swallows down the bile burning the back of his throat as you look away with a sniffle, refusing to look vulnerable in front of him before you look back with a tired look.

“...when Peter and Miles were trying to stop The Sandman from rampaging last week, one of my colleagues and I got hit by a sand attack,” you grumble with a slight flush on your cheeks. “Do you realize how unpleasant it is to get sand out from between your ass cheeks and other crevices in your body after a fucking week?”

Hobie lets out a small huff of laughter in spite of himself before clearing his throat to stifle the rest of the laughter. “I-I can only imagine…”

He continues to look at you, his eyes traveling along your face and body as you sit in front of him. Your dark circles are more prominent to him now, your shoulders tense and in a proper need of a massage, your cuticles picked to hell– god, you picked up your skin picking habit again– and the dimmed light in your eyes. His heart painfully lurches at the sight as his face drops to a pensive frown.

“Look, Y/N, what the hell do you want me to say?” Hobie whispers to you, struggling to keep his voice even. “I’m sorry? I’m sorry that we met? I’m sorry that I fell in love with you? That you fell in love with me? That we got together and I trusted you with my secret and everybody elses’?”

His breath hitches as he continues, the back of his eyes burning while his eyes start to get glassy too. “I’m sorry that when you graduated from the police academy and joined the forces, you got caught up in one of Green Goblin’s attacks and almost died in your first year? I’m sorry that I was stubborn and kept trying to push you to quit when you didn’t want to? I’m sorry that I broke up with you when you kept refusing? That I basically dragged you into this whole thing where you have to be a fucking mediator between the gang and those blue pigs now. That you’ve been talking to Gwen and Miles while avoiding me this whole time for five years even though I gave you a bloody fucking Web-Watch to contact me–”

He quickly looks away to the ceiling, refusing to let the tears in his eyes roll down his cheeks, before he lets out a shaky exhale and looks at you again. His chest aches again at the sight of you shaken up, your own eyes welling up as your face pinches up to fight off your own tears.

“What do you want me to say?” his voice comes out in a defeated, broken whisper. “And please, please, don’t call me Spider-Punk, Spider-Man, and especially Mr. Brown…”

A stray tear rolls off your cheek at his quiet plea, hesitation and longing briefly flickering in your eyes, and you turn your head away to wipe the tear streak off with a sniffle before clicking the play button on the recorder again.

“...Mr. Brown, thank you for your time.”

A sharp sting stabs at Hobie’s chest at your answer, but he reluctantly nods before languidly standing up from his seat and slides his mask back on. “Yeah, sure. I’ll…I’ll give you a ring or have someone else in the gang to, if we find out anything more about your case.”

You nod with a solemn frown as you slowly stand up and shuffle the papers before stopping the recorder one last time. With a heavy heart Hobie starts to walk towards the door, his heavy combat boots echoing against the walls as his body itches to finally leave the stifling interrogation room.

His hand wraps around the cold metal door handle, but before he can pull it open, his ears pick up soft footsteps behind him.

“Hobie…”

You slowly approach behind him, your eyes lingering on the planes of his back, even with the layers of his spandex suit and leather vest covering his towering figure. Memories briefly flicker in your mind, one of a younger, much happier Hobie wrapping his arms around you, peppering kisses against your face until you burst out laughing with him. Ones of him holding onto you as he swings through New York with his web-shooters, both of you flying against the sunset and over the cityscape with adrenaline running through your veins. Ones of the quiet nights in your little crappy one-bedroom apartment where you both fall asleep in each others’ arms after he comes home from patrol, safe and sound and with you–

You swallow down the lump in your throat before you quietly speak again.

“...please be safe.”

For me, you end your last words in your thoughts, not finding the courage to say it out loud after seeing him for the first time in five years.

Hobie stands frozen in front of you, his back still facing you, making you stare at that spider emblem on his vest, his symbol for his role as Spider-Man.

Before you can take it back, he suddenly turns around and pulls his mask halfway up before pulling you closer to him, pressing his lips against your forehead goodbye. He just as quickly pulls away from you and lets go of you before yanking his mask down and slipping out of the interrogation room, leaving you standing there alone stunned and flustered.

Meanwhile, Hobie rushes out of the police station with a flick of the wrist and a web shooting out of his shooter before he swings off and escapes to the city, his mind racing and his heart thrumming against his ribcage. Depending how the rest of the day goes, he’s either going to be dealing with more silence or an angry/flustered call from a soon-to-be sergeant.

#hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie brown x reader #hobie october event #hobie x y/n #octobie #octobie'24 #octobie wildcard #octobie fanfic #across the spiderverse #spider punk #the kr8tor

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honestsycrets · 1 year ago

Text

exclusive | [miguel o'hara x reader, hobie brown x reader]

❛ pairing | fuck buddies: miguel o'hara x reader, hobie brown x reader (background pairing)

❛ type | one-shot, explicit

❛ summary | miguel learns his fuck buddy is fucking Hobie and feels some type of way about it.

❛ tags | heavy jealousy, somnophilia, fuck buddies, multiple partners, undisclosed sexual relationship, dubious consent: aggression/revenge, sloppy seconds, f!reader, lying by omission, spanish is not translated, an attempt at MLE, break ups, eating kitty, bit angsty, older hobie in this piece, break-ups.

❛ reqs fulfilled | Hey! I saw your requests were open and I wanted to know if you'd be down with writing something about Miguel x Reader who has been whining for his cock all day, crying and trying to run from it when he finally gives it to her? & where reader loves him but he doesn't, only for him to eventually fall in love but its too late because she's moved on, or vice versa

❛ sy's notes | here's for the anon that requested i release it. hope you like it, lil buddy.

Miguel wakes early in the morning.

Lyla usually woke him up with a Hey Miguel, Miguel, You have a meeting Miguel-- something teasing and aggravating all at once. That morning his room was so silent that he could nearly feel the heaving and dropping of a second heartbeat. His vision strains as his eyes take focus on the pitch-black room. He takes up the bulk of the bed with his large frame while the pillows are strewn over the floor. Your complaints of-- You never come to find me, you always ignore me. He quickly remembers what happened last night. Your legs were intertwined in his, scaling him like he was another bed in of himself.

"Lyla, what time is it?" he asks, massaging the crook in his neck. The world is quiet in his room. Out there, he knew there would be one problem after another. As soon as he peeled himself from the comfort of your warm embrace. Your legs intertwined in his, keeping him in the warmth of his bed, a spider's web of its own. He hates that he doesn't want to leave. Not yet, anyway. He knows he's in deep.

"About--" she pauses, "Nine o'clock?"

"¿Las nueve?" he shouts, pushing himself up on his thick forearms. "Damn it, Lyla!"

"I would've woken you up sooooner," she draws out in a long tease. "If you weren't too busy pounding your novía until three in the morning."

"She's not my girlfriend," not yet, he bit out, unpeeling your warm legs from his core. A brush more and he would have another type of problem to deal with that morning. As nice as it would have been to lay back down and wait until sleep released its tight grip on you, he had obligations.

"Yeah," she scoffs. "Okay, Miguel."

Lyla knew what he wanted. He wanted this. You-- to help make him forget the past and the future. To forget all the awful things that haunted him day to day. You could do that. He feels your sleepy eyes on him as he turns to sit up in his bed. Your heavy eyelids are cloaked with the ache for sleep. Or half-lidded in fervor for another round. He isn't sure which, yet.

"Te quiero, Miggy," he knows it isn't love you're talking about. Early in the morning, you need sex. He knows how insatiable you are even without your hands slinking around his muscular thigh, inching their way where they had no business going. He cups your hand and pushes away from his softness, knowing he has no time to spare getting worked up. Distracted. It's time to work.

"Manaña. Go back to sleep, I have things to do."

"Tomorrow? I'm not a tomorrow kinda girl, Miggy. " You're that kind of woman-- needy, achy, you need more from him. No matter how much he gave you with attentiveness and care, he could never give you enough. Your words are clear as you turn away, pouting. Miguel throws a look over his shoulder. "You're the only one who treats me like this."

There's the fit. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, shoving it out of his face as he gathers his bearings. You're slack against his back, lips curling into a pout at his suggestion that you'd simply have to wait for more attention.

"No empieces," he throws back. "I spent the night with you two nights in a row."

"To get off. Hobie's right about you. You'd never go to a show'a mine."

If there were ever an interloper in your relationship. It was, and would forever be, Hobie Brown. The displeasure on your face gently pulls at his heart. He's never been to one of your shows before. He's never even asked. It never seemed important to you until now.

He could do that.

"Where and when," his stomach roiled with something he'd distantly call anxiety. There was a truth to what Hobie said, he couldn't be a good boyfriend and take care of spider society all alone. He'd sure as hell try. If you thought Hobie was better, so be it. Miguel wrinkled his nose, concern lining his bushy eyebrows as he stood up, hands on his hips.

"Oh Miggy, that's just what I wanted. It's tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow, then."

Isn't that what he said earlier?

"Hobie!"

It doesn’t matter where it is, your eyes always seem to find Hobie. Ideally, Miguel would like your eyes to always find him. You spent the night in his arms yesterday and the night before that. Perhaps that was why you missed the spider punk. So when he walked into the meeting early that morning and dropped like a rock on the elevated platform you sat on, he wasn’t altogether surprised that you turned around to look at Hobie.

He was, however, surprised to see your hand slink along his plaid thigh, tugging on his lax suspenders. You're late, he heard you whisper. Yeah, what you going to do about it? Hobie reached out, letting his fingertips ghost lines up your arms. Miguel barks out your name, your fingers snapping back as if a spider bit them. They might.

“Oh my days, bruv, we gonna talk about this?” Hobie ripped off his mask, dropping it lazily by your hip. You swept it up and set it on your thighs. He suckled along the roof of his mouth, pulling his lip piercing in and out with a deliberate, slow hiss. “Or you busy watching my side ting?”

"Hobie," you willed him down. Your eyes catch and hold. "Shhh."

“Mans right pussywhipped,” Hobie balked out a laugh, bouncing at that awful word. His jaw tightened at the distinct sound of Hobie’s hands slapping your shoulder. Hobie is in a mood today. He wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t being picked on. “Look at him, is he serious? You mad, man?”

Hobie!

“I’m not.”

“I like the sound of that,” he could hear you whisper into Hobie’s ear, his senses more queued into small whispers than anyone else in the room. You rolled the word along your tongue. "Pussy whipped. You next?"

It was like he wasn’t even there. As if every moment you spent together was irrelevant. The days that the tips of your fingers grazed his shoulder blades, sweeping across his tight muscles. He remembered how it felt, your careful kisses on his neck after a long day, the drag of your nails across his muscular back as you took him so well on the desk he lectured at.

“You bugging? You know that's not happening. You ovulatin' today?”

Miguel prompts your name. You sit upright, his perfect good girl, a whole other person when you weren’t around Hobie. His brow creases and lines of worry and disappointment coalesce into a look that invites you to behave. You were listening now with a blow of a kiss at him as though that would deter him from finding out.

Miguel doesn’t like it when Hobie takes the piss out of him.

He especially doesn’t like that Hobie seems to know the intimate details about your body, like your cycle. That near the end of the month, every month, your sex drive ran wild. He thought it was a myth. None of the other women he had in his bed acted this way. You, however, were insatiable. If he didn’t know better… He flicked his fingers across amber screens, doing something he never did because he had no reason not to trust you. He skimmed your file.

Hobie was a consistent fixture in your life. Always at his damn concerts, clapping wildly at his old runway shows, drinking at the pub. You were an outlier dolled up in soft white, sparkling glitter makeup and darling strawberry blush next to a group of grungy anarchists and foul punks. On any given day, you might hold his head in your lap as your fingers coursed through his wicks. On special days, you buy new jewelry to change out the old. Every weekend, you like to sit on his lap in the pub of the week.

The others were negligible. He could excuse them. Hobie was something more. All it took was one offensive recording of sitting on Hobie’s lap in a seedy bar for his mind to turn red hot.

Despite being populated with many patrons, it didn’t stop you two from fucking in the bar after one of Hobie's loud shows. Others did the same exact shit. The ringing strumming, the shouting, fighting. It wasn't a scene he could see you at.

"Right there, papi, Hobie, there," your hips ground down, sultry moans puffing against his spiked choker while Hobie’s urged you up and down his cock, groping and slapping your ass around his dick. Your pink ballerina flats willing the movement by using the footrest to help guide your motion.

"Good, innit?" You didn't just like it, he realized, you loved it. Your huffy moans, the stares from strangers, the way Hobie commanded the scene. The bartender even threw Hobie a beer. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was Hobie's arrogance that no one was a threat or arrogance that no one would protest, but it pissed him off the same. He fucked you like it was nothing-- like fucking you in front of a host of sleazy men wasn’t a risk in and of itself.

He was too informal with you. He didn't treasure what he had. It was not the same, not like him. He heard your gentle footsteps in the lab. He shifted his weight between his feet, turning to see you hop up the platform. You fluttered your lashes angelically at him. Mi rey, you trilled. Your king. As though he hadn’t just watched you get railed by Hobie only days ago.

It was a fucking trap. A trap he was buying into, drinking you in. You looked pretty without your suit, clothed in a white, fluttery dress that barely kissed your thighs and nothing more. Like a fly to a spider web, he found himself gaping with his lips slightly apart. He brought his hand to his slight mouth, wiping away all inkling of his interest. You pout.

Miguel snapped back to his monitor. It was your scent lingering in the air, hypnotizing his dumb ass, your body eager and ready for him to pound full of his cum. Why else would you be in his lab? When you were strung out on his bed, properly bred, and leaking his cum, he was happy. He was happy with the tremors that wracked through your pathetic legs, that you were finally quiet for once in your damn--

“Oh? What's that?”

Miguel’s attention snapped to your figure, sliding along the edge of his desk, moving his hand without fear. You replaced it on your upper thigh, driving it between your legs. Horny again. His blown pupils followed the motion of your hand. He cursed his body for growing warm at the sight and smell of you. He hardening up as if his body had learned what to expect in the many days of experience fucking you. Most would have reconsidered what they were doing to him. Not you. You had no fear of men. You wanted him. Were you that insatiable?

“Hobie n' me?” you shimmied your shoulders with a knowing grin. The screen paused on a wet, sloppy kiss, Hobie's teeth nipping your lower lip. He was a biter. How had he missed his bites on your neck? Your soft, perfumed hand cradled Miguel's cheek, peppered in stubble. Your lips shifted up, tracing his sharp cheekbones. “Aw. I missed you too, Miggy. I always miss you. You're my big man.”

Yours. He might as well have been yours because you sure as damn weren't his. You led him on your little fingers with words like honey. A soothing honey that threatened to suffocate him in the weight of the words. If he listened long enough, he might fall in. Guilting him about his lack of time for you, Hobie Brown, the relationship you had, the kisses you exchanged, the sex-- the lies you omitted.

Miguel glides the clip away, bringing another to inspect. You remember it-- the day Hobie found out you fucked Miguel after a few hours of reconnaissance went south. You hadn't meant to piss him off. You only meant to take care of your needs. Needs that included sex. He was a means to an end, a brute that could fill what you needed. That much was becoming real clear, real fast.

"It go that bad? He got you in a fit," Hobie says. He can't help but notice you wringing out your suit, flinging it in your half-filled hamper by your bra, standing in nothing but a pair of soiled panties. Bruto, murmured under your breath-- a brute. He was. Hobie flickered his fingers off his guitar, a stray note irritating your hypersensitive ears. You cupped your ears in protest. "Oi, why are you airing me?"

"I'm not ignoring you. I just--" you bit the words, warm dread filling your chest with the next lie you told. You twirled your hands one over another. "I have a sore throat."

"A sore throat."

He wasn't buying that either.

"It's minor. Just a-- tú sabes, a little thing," you turned your hand over, whirling your bra drawer open with enough force to rip it out. Another growl rolled free from your lips, picking a powdery pink set and shoving it promptly back in. The drawer sat off-kilter. Hobie flipped his guitar over his shoulder and met you halfway, his hand warm on your mid back. It should have been comforting. Something in his eyes, even now, felt off. He recovered before you could answer.

"You fucked that man? Are you mad or what, wifey?"

You couldn't help feeling like you cheated on Hobie.

He stood upright, ripping himself away from your body, and brought his hand to his face to focus his thoughts. He had been fucking you for months-- and for months, he missed it. Miguel searched your eyes for a hint of shame or embarrassment. You had none, not even a lick. You were a kid in a panadería. Not only could you have Hobie, with his slender figure and exhibitionist qualities, but Miguel too-- with his big dick and need for love at the end of a long day’s work.

You played him.

His breath hitched as you turned around, shifting your hips back on his. It was enough. He had enough. His hand slammed over the rim, locking you in place against his muscular body. There was nowhere to run, even if you wanted to. You were happy to be there. Miguel wasn’t. His fingers trembled violently, forming a fist. You knew he wouldn't hit you. For all his rumble and roar, Miguel couldn't hurt you nearly as much as you could hurt him.

“You’re fucking Hobie,” he breathed into your ear.

“Mmm.”

A slight, noncommittal noise slipped out from your lips. It was not a denial, but not an agreement either. Irritation rippled across his skin with every damn swish of your round hips against his, shifting weight from one ball of your foot to the other. His body was alight with your soft body drawing trying to draw his pleasure to the surface. You were trying to distract him. Miguel wasn't about to let you.

"Answer me," he bucked his slender hips into yours, forcing you to catch yourself on the desk. You groaned. He had half the mind to fuck you right there, break in your pussy and leave you drooling over his desk. That would be easy. That was what you wanted.

"It's just sex."

“Are you dating him?”

“We don't do labels,” you said.

Miguel wracked your head back by your hair. A strangled moan slipped free from your lips, pleasure rushing to your cunt. You liked it. There were important details he had to know. Like-- if you used protection, or if you were safe when you weren't with him, or how you rid Hobie in raunchy pubs, and if you made out with Hobie until it was time to sleep. You know, important details.

“I do. I don’t share my women.”

“Yours? Fucking a woman ain’t keeping her, Miguel. You never asked me out on a date, put a ring on my finger, nada. It’s sex. Don't pretend like it's anything more."

"Is that all we are?"

"I've been fucking Hobie for months, Miguel. You want me to drop him-- for you? You don't even have time for me in the mornings."

His hand uncurled from your scalp, shoving you into the desk. He leaped off the platform, trudging somewhere, anywhere away from your body. He feared what he might do next if he kept hearing Hobie's damn name on your lips.

He could have done it-- let you have Hobie if you wanted Hobie so badly.

But it bothered him. Of all the women he could have had, he picked you. You were the only one he let grab him, shove him into hallways, suck him off under his desk, and be thankful for the strands of cum painting your nose and cheeks. You were the only one who slept with him at night.

Did Hobie need you the same way? Did he want you the same way Miguel did-- when he was inside of you, clambering over your body like a hungry beast, making you lay there and take him as he laid his brutal thrusts into your pussy. The way he battered your cunt, filled it up with his seed. Watched you heave heavy breaths-- because you were his to fuck and fill. The prospect of filling you up with his cum while Hobie was doing the same thing… ticked him off.

You were his, a territory that Hobie had no business entering. You had none allowing him to. Hobie didn’t claim ownership of anybody or anything at any time. It went against all he stood for. Miguel was inexorable. He wasn’t so bothered about the details. So long as the result was to his satisfaction.

“She’s at home, Miguel,” Lyla squeaked.

“Alone?”

“If you mean with Hobie,” she popped over his shoulder, sitting as if on a cloud in her fluffy jacket. His eyes rolled. “Then yes, he's there.”

"Show me."

"Nah, nah, nah, he's gassing you. How that man not know about us?"

You sat on your kitchen table, plopped with a hunk of pizza between your fingertips from the pizzeria below your house. Hobie's boots were thrown beside your mini-skirt. His chew was lazy and long. You sighed through it. You nipped the last bits of crust and grease off your fingertips.

"No sé. We never been a secret," you wiped off the rest of the grease between your thighs, ignoring the thought of your very first time with Hobie. But it was persistent, tickling the back of your mind, raging havoc on your unsettled heart.

White was your favorite shade. It was light, airy, like the sky. The sensation of falling through tufts of clouds. But it also made the consistent British rainstorms all the more irksome. The way water dribbled down your wet suit, your nipples perked as you rushed into his flat begging for something else to wear, Hobie's laughter dying out into that deep, low hum. His band shirt was ruined with the sticky stains of his cum.

"You thinking about it again?" Hobie read the way your eyes glazed over in an instant. His feet thumped onto the floor, swiveling in his chair and parting your legs. He leaned forward, his hands on either side of your tiny miniskirt. Your eyes tracked his gloved fingers peeking underneath your skirt. Not to pull down your thin panties, but caress small, consoling circles. "Yeah. You are. We just fucked. You're insatiable, wifey. You wet already? Want me again?"

"Hobie," you breathed. "What if he don't come tomorrow?"

"Then he don't," Hobie outstretched his finger, rubbing your soft chin to look up. "You don't need that wasteman."

"I got you?" you slid your fingers down to his slender palm, gliding over the tops of his knuckles. Hobie's lip pulled into a one-sided smirk, nodding to the side.

"Yeah, you got me."

By the time Hobie left, all thoughts of Miguel were non-existent. Mostly, because Hobie fucked you into exhaustion. You were out cold, strewn among fluffy sheets that wreaked of his musk of cigarettes and the sandalwood oil Pavitr gifted him. Hobie’s scent was here, there, everywhere it shouldn’t be as Miguel slunk into your slightly parted window.

Most offensively, Hobie’s cum was dripping out of your cunt. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. If you wanted him so badly all day, you easily replaced him with Hobie’s dick. He climbed the foot of the bed, watching your face twitch, almost trying to wake up from your sex-fueled haze.

“Mmm,” the small, ineffectual noise caused him to drift his eyes across your silky legs to your lips. There was a gentle pleasure in watching you sleep. He had seen it many times when he crept in the shadows when you were most beautiful. When you were half asleep, your hands draped among fluffy pillows. To be the first sight in the morning, and if possible, the last thing you thought of at night.

If he weren’t so angry with you, you would have been a vision for his sore eyes. His fingertips swerved up and down your inner thigh, curling around until he found your vulva, still swollen and wet from sex with Hobie. Miguel urged his thumb over your swollen clit, zig-zagging along to separate your folds.

As he suspected-- you had fucked him. Miguel urged the cum out of your system with a squeeze of your folds, rolling his fingers along the outer lips. His dilated eyes flickered up, catching a soft sigh in your chest. His fingers breached your wetness, easing the cum free from your body with small sweeps of his fingers.

“Mmm?” you breathed. His fingers slipped away, dragging your hips to his waiting mouth. Caked in the allure of sleep, your moan went without a response. Miguel’s pink tongue separated your folds, small mincing suckles coursing from your entrance to weave around your folds, deliberately avoiding your waiting clitoris.

"Who's it?" The pressure caused your lids to spread apart, lifting your hand from the lush silk pillow under your head to the top of his head. His tongue languidly coursed back down, poking at your entrance. The coziness of your sleep faded away. You dropped a hand to the top of his head to run through his thick dark brown hair, his sharp eyes flicking up to meet yours. Miguel could definitely have been a dream, but he wasn't.

“Miggy… I missed you,” you complained, reaching for the soft pink strawberry he won you once upon a time at a carnival. You had to beg, and beg, and blow his cock under his desk to get him to go. You looked so damn cute. Innocent. You were neither. “You should have come earlier--”

“To see you fuck Hobie?” he blew warm air against your cunt. Your hips shuttered against his face, thighs knocking his sharp cheekbones.

"You're still mad at me." This time, shame surely caught in your chest, a tremor of mean pleasure was minced with the pain of letting Miguel down. He knew it did. You wouldn't look him in the eye again but gripped the comforting strawberry a little harder.

“Considering you fucked him after we spoke, it’ll stay that way.” Miguel rose his hand to caress the outside folds as he worked, slurping the inner ones between his lips. You winced when his wet finger slid inside your hole. It squished obscenely, hungry and wet for his touch after such a tiresome day of longing.

“It’s-- it’s still sensitive.”

“I don’t care. You lied to me.” A brief glance at any watch would reveal that you’d barely slept at all. Miguel wouldn’t let you have rest, not if he could hold you accountable for your games with his heart and dick. His lush lips closed over your clit, flickering and sucking sloppily, drawing shocks of pleasure down your spine. You dug the heel of your palm into the sheets, struggling to slide out from under him. It was too much to wake up to after a fuck with Hobie who, from his files, apparently just loved to edge you.

"No, you don't. Come here." Miguel lurched his arm around your waist, dragging you back onto his face. Ah! Your hand shot to his forearm, battling out with his upper body strength to push him off. You couldn’t. Miguel was too strong. He was going to make you cum.

Pressure welled up in your stomach, forming a blinding burst of pleasure that threatened to let go. You knew it was coming. You knew there was nothing you could do about it but let him force another orgasm out of your cunt, twirling his fingers against your sensitive bundle of nerves. In place of a sweet, soothing orgasm, hard pleasure ripped down your spine. It nearly hurt, forced out by his flicking tongue. Your legs tremored around his head, cupping him in place until you couldn’t give him any more of your sweet love.

“Miguel, Miguel please--” Warm tears pricked your cheeks, sliding down to your jaw. He kept his eye on you. Your skin was warm, mind dizzy, wracked with his complaints. “I didn't mean to lie to you. I promise. You-- you never asked.”

“Shut up,” Miguel forced your hips off his face with a sharp shove. Your hips bounced on the bed, a broken cry slipping from your lips at his abuse. He came for one thing, one thing only, and fuck more foreplay. Somedays he had the temperament for it. Today, with your daring admission that you had been fucking Hobie, he had none. "I don't want more pretty lies."

"They aren't lies," you bit out, scrambling underneath him, legs tightening shut. You just needed a moment to explain-- and if holding sex back would do it, you'd try. Miguel pulled himself free of his suit and pulled you back into place. Overstimulated tears pricked your eyes, "Miggy please-- Not yet--"

He looked down at you, eyes unfeeling, unreceptive to your pleas. His cock bobbed over the top of your vulva, thick and hard, dribbling with anticipation to replace Hobie’s cum with his. You bit hard on your lower lip, sucking your tongue over the loose cuts. “If you would have asked--”

“Since you’re so insatiable, you’re going to take this dick next,” Miguel gave a few lax jerks at the base, lining up his cock with your tense entrance. He felt you clench your walls, some piteous attempt to keep him out, to allow you to explain.

“I'm still sensitive, Miggy, please. Slow down, you're too big--”

“Think about this next time you fuck that punk.”

Despite your protests, Miguel pushed the head of his cock into your entrance. A moan wracked free from your lips. He knew it was your favorite part, the way he split you wide on his cock, pulling your walls apart. He bottomed out balls deep in your cunt, finally looking so full-- so full of Miguel after a long, arduous day of teasing him for just this. Your hand came to your stomach, buried so deep you swore you could feel him in your guts. Your lashes fluttered, recognizing that this Miguel-- this Miguel wasn’t the man you knew. Not the one who was cold out there, patient in your bedroom. Something snapped. You cracked him.

“¡Ay!” you exclaimed, then clamped your mouth shut. He wasn't going to accept any complaints. Miguel’s hands clasped over your lower ribs, the slide of tears down your soft cheeks biting your skin raw. “Miggy, Miggy.”

“After all that teasing today, you can’t take my dick?”

“You’re too-- you’re too thick.”

“Tragedy, you’ll have to take me anyway,” he mocked, sliding his forearm underneath your head to keep you stable. Your skin prickled, wanting to believe the closeness he forced was as much for you as him. Your hands came to his chest, bundling up his suit between your fingertips. You needed something to anchor to. Your legs bobbed around his hips as he drew his smooth thrusts into you. Long, punctuated sweeps of his cock filled the deepest parts of your body over and over, stretching your sweet cunt full of him. “What? Am I not enough?”

“No, you are! I just, I love him--” your legs pathetically clung to his hips, trying to force Miguel’s full, sweeping thrusts to slow. Between the two men, you would be sore the next morning. Love him-- the words earned an intensity of his thrusts that you could only try to slow down by squeezing your walls around him. All this time he thought it was him, his inability to bend to your every need when you wanted it done. Your whines drifted off, melding into sweet, gentle moans of approval with every deep swipe of his hips knocking into your cervix. Wet, sloppy kisses marked your neck-- and if you weren't mistaken, the soft tickle of his own tears. The sensation of his liquid need, the hiss of his breath, bounced against your neck. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re going to be.” His other hand jammed between your legs, flicking at your already pulsing clit once again. It hurt how badly you needed it. You pulsed over his dick, a flurry of frantic perdóname slipping free from your lips over and over, a disc stuck on repeat. Miguel’s moans ripped through the room, the desire for air a secondary thought. You never heard him so loud, so enraged, even earlier today.

You came, wet and sweet over his swollen dick, for the second time since he showed up. A fourth since Hobie was here. You couldn't breathe, pinned between his chest and the bed. Your thighs tremored piteously around him, searing with pleasurable heat. You accepted his last frantic thrusts, marked by a sharp grunt. His wet cum spilled into you, hips snapping to your core to ensure you took every last bit of his seed. You buried your head between pillows and his fist under your neck, tightening and loosening. Your head was thumping, sweat cloaking his suit. When Miguel was finally spent, he pulled free, gloops of cum slipping free along with him. He threw you a look, recording the memory of your ruined body in his mind.

“Miguel--” you reached out. Or tried to. He jerked to the edge of your fluffy bed, his hands wrangling sweat out of his long hair.

“Let's stop seeing each other."

Seconds passed before you could articulate the right words, watching his chest rise and fall with the tension. He fit himself back into his suit, throwing a glance over his muscular shoulders when you cried his name. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Only…

“I… I didn’t know you would care.”

He steeled himself to your words from the gentle touch of your fingers on his elbow, trying to reason with him to lay in bed. He wouldn’t. Not this time. You crawled over, trying again. Realistically, you held little hope that he'd let you touch him. Not if he was banishing you from his life. Optimistically, all he could do was throw you off again. You considered yourself lucky that he allowed your arms to slide about his waist and press your breasts against his rising and falling back.

“I did.” But he acted as though he didn't. The words felt small as if they didn't fit in your mouth. He cared. Miguel ran his hand down, then up his head again, exhaling a wilting breath. "Mira… let me go," he sighed, loathing the words on his tongue. He wasn't enough. He knew he wasn't. "I'm in the way."

"In the way? Miguel, you're never in my way."

You couldn't be this dull. Miguel loosened your hands around his waist, glancing toward Hobie's miscellaneous shoes at the foot of your bed. Your intermingled jewelry in ceramic little pots. Maybe he did see it. Maybe he wanted to ignore it, to convince you he was enough. Maybe he was the one that appeared every time you two were alone, not the other way around. And maybe he was the interloper.

"In Hobie's way. You can’t believe that he isn’t jealous.”

“Hobie doesn’t get jealous.”

“You're blind. Everyone gets jealous,” he scoffed. “Even him.”

“Even you?”

That shuts him up. You watched as he pushed himself off the bed, stretching out his neck and heading out your bedroom window. This time, you wouldn’t follow him to the lab, slink into his bed. This time, you knew he wouldn’t come back. It was better, this way, your lives playing out apart from one another. Some lives can't be pieced back together once their web breaks.

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julia4today · 7 months ago

Note

can you do like hobie x reader but miguel is readers father and he finds out that reader is dating hobie

yes. for this though we will have to kind of work around gabriella. we’ll just say she exists and is your older sister || i’m not really sure what ages i should use so i’ll leave that ambiguous.

——

mahogany fluff —- oneshot

(hobie x spanish speaking!reader) —— fem prns

avoidance. a skill you need to learn if you are going to sneak around and evade your parent. especially if that parent is 6’9 and 110% muscle.

————

your origin story with hobie is one that’s messy at best. especially considering the obvious blockade that was your father. him being overprotective and also hobie’s boss are two things that one never wants paired together. yet, love is one thing that can overcome. — i’m just kidding, there wasn’t a powerful we love each other moment, mostly just a lot of laughing.

it was mid july and your father was just as engrossed with work as always. you wanted to spend time together, have fun. he said he would love to but honestly you didnt think it would happen. you began to go to headquarters yourself and drag him from work. like, literally drag him.

this obviously garnered lots of attention, for one, who is this girl yelling at boss? a certain spider also happened to catch wind of the girl. he would join the crowd, laughing, cheering mildly aswell.

“dijiste que vendrías a cenar conmigo y con gabi . ¿y dónde te encuentro? ¡no en la cena! ¡hicimos empanadas, imbécil!”

“¡lo siento, mi princesa! i promise i didn’t mean to miss dinner.”

“yeah well you did, no empanadas for you. we’ll feed them to chester instead.” you say, turning around and walking away. leaving miguel to bask in the shame. you giggled at the thought of your dog getting more empanadas than your own father.

while miguel was busy being questioned about the strange girl who just walked up in here, hobie walks off to go talk to her.

“man you are an ace! that was barmy. who are you?” hobie leads with a compliment, genuinely impressed and a little refreshed at your presence, how not scared you were to yell at miguel. “a new spider recruit?”

you stop, rolling your eyes a little, still fuming at your dad. turning to greet the voice your mood immediately switches. his smooth accent and his sharp features should’ve made you a puddle right there. “n-no i’m not a spider recruit. i’m that pendejo’s daughter.”

“na shot,”

“don’t get your knickers in a twist,” you say mildly mocking his thick cockney.

“how d’you know?”

“i watch a lot television.” a laugh coming from both of you meld together.

“i’m just amazed at how you stood to the boss like tha’,”

“it’s a lot easier when the boss comes home and watches the soaps with you. what’s your name mysterious spider who’s following me home?”

“hobie, hobie brown. you’re a cheeky one, can’t believe you come from ‘im.”

“no, i’m y/n.” he laughs at your stupid joke, making your face heat up.

“i’d be chuffed to hang out with you sometime y/n. maybe visit my earth?”

“papá no me deja ir a diferentes tierras,” you shrug. “says it’s too dangerous.”

hobie nods, pretending he knows what’s you said. “atleast let me get to know you. ya like ackee?”

“mhm,” you say, a little suspicious but also mildly intrigued.

“‘ow bout tomorrow you come ‘ere n i’ll take you to some real jamaican food.”

“alright hobie, i’ll play.” you giggle and continue to your car.

he smiles waving. knowing what he’s getting himself into.

————

sorry no part 2! i’m really sorry to those who are disappointed by this :(

#hobie brown #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader

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eyesxxyou · 9 months ago

Note

(rq, ftm!reader) maybe something w all the diff variants of hobie? them all spoiling you, being all touchy and needy, maybe something about how much they need this, how in their universe you're still in the friendzone

-🕸

💿 ꩜ ❝ favor ❞ hobie brown x ftm trans!reader ꩜ 💿

❝ contents ❞ dilf!Hobie, loser!Hobie, mean!Hobie, kissing, palming, sharing between them, dry humping, implied foursome

Hands. So many hands. Pulling at your clothes, grappling at your flesh. Fingers press and knead supple skin to bruise under the weight of their desire. Lips pass you around like a joint, each maintaining the same shape you almost thought you were kissing the same person. You were kissing the same person technically. There were just so many of him.

Hobies, all spawning from universes slightly different than the next. Their lips all tasted the same but it was no difficult feat differentiating one from the other based on how they loved you. Despite their hands, fiending for a feel, a sliver, a taste of you, they take turns with you.

You’re passed between the 3 of them, so similar yet so different it leaves you delirious.

The first one is visibly older than the rest of them by about 10 years, settled nicely in his early to mid 30s. Hobie was handsome, aged like fine wine. Smile lines etched into his dark skin by the sands of time, a few stray hairs slowly turning more gray by the day. He lived a happy life, presumably with a child. You wondered if in his universe, they were yours; that child.

He kissed you deeply, like he missed you, like it’s been so long. His hand settled against your neck, between the peppered kisses of the others against your tender pulse points. Thumb stroking against the rhythmic beat of your pulse.

This Hobie held an air of maturity around him, a responsibility that the other have yet to understand. His tongue lapped at the seam of your lips and with each stroke he coaxed your lips apart. “Are ya ‘kay wit’ this?” The sweet baritone of his voice hummed against your lips, hand holding your waist to keep your body flushed with his. You nodded, sighing just enough to let him slip his tongue into your mouth and explore steadily cautiously.

He took his time exploring you. Lavishing in every shiver and moan you offered up to him like a sacrifice to a god. “It's okay,” he cooed into your mouth, “yer such a good boy f’me. ‘m gonna pass ya off but I’ll be righ’ here if ya need me.”

He offered you up to the next Hobie and you cried softly at the feeling of his lips leaving yours but just as quickly as his lips parted, another pair found yours, identical to his.

His hands were far more timid, his kisses less experienced than those that preceded him. It was almost cute how hard he tried to kiss you with some semblance of authority. It was an act and you knew it. It was easy to overpower him, your tongue dragged over his bottom one, teeth nipping til he moaned.

This Hobie almost trembled under your touch, stammering over his few words. “Fuck, yer— God…” he let out in baded breaths “Yer so-” he choked. “Pretty.” He panted into your mouth, hands squeezing softly at the pudge of your body. Your hands guided his from place to place, letting him find purchase on your ass where he kneaded the flesh almost respectfully.

“He doesn't know how to handle you.” Another Hobie whispered in your ear, his hands grasping your waist and pulling you out of the weak grasp of one Hobie and into the next.

This one, this one was aggressive, demanding. His hands grasped so hard that you were sure there’d be bruises in their shape later on. Despite all their holding, caressing, grabbing, and pulling. Hands sliding under your shirt, brushing over your swollen, perky nipples. This one held you the tightest.

His hand held a firm place around your tender throat, squeezing until you felt you could hardly draw air into your lungs. You liked his roughness, the way he bit your lip and drew just the smallest bit of blood until your kiss held the smallest twing of a metallic aftertaste.

This Hobie was the possessive type, his eyes flickered to the others and his lips curled into a snarl at them. He had look in his golden gaze, feral, mean, unyielding. Not in the mood to share. His tongue parted your lips forcefully, stroking your tongue and pressing it back to give himself full access to your hot, wet mouth. His hand reached between your thighs and cupped your sweet cunt in his large palm, claiming it as his.

“The tings I’d do t’ya if I had ya alone.” He murmured.

“Don't hog ‘im. He’s ours too.” The second Hobie whined, his hands tugging at you to pull you back into his arms. His lips were against the side of your throat, the thick of his clothed cock pressed against the round of your ass.

“We agreed to share.” The older Hobie commented. He grabbed your chin gently and turned your pretty little head towards him. His eyes were softer than the other two, wiser as well.

“Ya don' know how much we need this, luv. Yer doin’ is a favor. Be a good boy f’me and le’ is ‘ave our way wit’cha, yeah?”

You found yourself nodding, a choked whimper escaping your lips as the last Hobie, the mean one grasped your face, nimble yet strong fingers turning your face to kiss you while the quiet Hobie kept thrusting his hips into you, whining all the while into the nape of your neck.

You told yourself you were doing them a favor.

taglist: @hobs-kiss, @hoe-bie

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #spiderman #hobie brown #spider punk #hobie brown x ftm!reader #hobie brown x transmasc!reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x male reader #spiderpunk x male!reader #spiderpunk fic #spiderpunk smut #atsv hobie smut

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punkeropercyjackson · 4 months ago

Text

Hot Topic Percy jokes will never not send me.Hot Topic?????HE'S PUNK,BLUD!!!!He gets his drips from thrift stores and diy's!!And is also poor lmao,he can't afford anything from there and he likes it that way because fuck capitalism!He went punk for the culture and history,not to impress people😭Y'all can forget Nico and Hazel too and ESPECIALLY Thalia,Percy's raising them kids so he won't let them near that shit and Hot Topic's more basic than any 2000s Barbie shit.No Sk*ter Boy Percy,face the supremacy of crustpunk and solarpunk combo Percy,tradgoth Nico,pastel goth Hazel and Sista Grrrl Thalia and afropunk Big Three Kids.Let's throw chronic pain and fatigue Nico and indie horror game protagonist-coded Hazel in.Dilf Percy also,he just has that vibe

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axeoverblade · 1 year ago

Note

Could you do headcanons about Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, and Hobie having a tall and scary/intimidating s/o who is actually a big sweetheart? How they meet, first impressions, and dating stuff?? If that’s too much, no prob, alter it however you need to! :)

B. F. G

ATSV! squad x gn! reader

Synopsis! Never judge a book by its cover

MASTERLIST

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none!

Word count: unavailable

Authors comment: BONUS:GWEN, super cute lol hope this is what you wanted enjoy <3

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ

1610 MILES

Bro is scared of nothing (think Simba from look king “I laugh in the face of danger”)

So when he sees you out on patrol, it throws him off that he became so on guard

You’re making the hairs on the back of his neck stand

Would never tell you this but at first you were gonna be a bad guy

So when you helped a lil kid cross the street and paid for them to get ice cream, he was a wee bit confused

Tailed you for a long time on different days, and always saw you doing good things .

So at first he develops a lil identity crush, not a romantic crush on you

Like he thinks it’s cool that you have this presence about you and it’s completely different from how you actually are

He meets you as spider man before as himself

You actually helped him, not a lot but enough where you interacted with him for a bit and he thanked you for helping

You just stopped a guy from stealing an older woman’s purse by tripping the thief and returning the purse

Miles saw it as you could be the next spider man

Suddenly you keep seeing spiderman all the time (totally by accident and not because he learned your routine)

Talk to him so often you develop nicknames for each other.

Been months since you’ve known him and he like is obsessed with you, full on in love and everything

So he decides to reveal who he is

Obv you accept him, give him a hug saying you won’t tell anyone

So now you guys hang out as friends

Casually flirts with you all the time (he’s trying so hard to make u like him even though u alr do)

Makes u meet his parents

miles forgot your looks don’t match your personality

HIS PARENTS ARE SO ON GUARD

His dad gave you that look

The one that screams “ stay away from my child and take your thuggish activities out this house” when you first walked in

kinda made you sad cause you thought they didn’t like you and you haven’t even talked to him yet

After they get to know you through the night his parents legit love you

Say how much of a good influence you must be on Miles and tell Miles to be more like you

Tell you to come by anytime

(They could easily tell miles likes you and vise versa but don’t say anything)

So Miles finally works up the balls to confess

Happy moments and a kiss

Overall good day

When your walking hand in hand down the sidewalk and keep getting weird stares because of the high contrast in your auras it confuses people

but then you and Miles both smile and its the same super big bright smile, people get why you’re together

HOBIE BROWN

When he first saw you, standing as tall as him in the store with that “I’ll kill you if you come near me” energy he thought you would be an issue honestly

Thought you were cool but def though you were gonna try and fight anyone near you or something

He wasn’t in his suit cause he was washing it and was lowkey upset you caught him when he was just going to the store to restock his snacks instead of out on duty

But he was excited for what ever you were gonna do when you passed him because he wanted to fight today

“Accidentally” bumps into you to see how you respond

But when you smile at him sweetly, apologize, and keep it moving, bro is confused

Walks right back up to you and starts talking to you

Digs the inconsistency between your personality and your looks

Also digs just your looks

He thinks you're super attractive

Was quick to get with you, he knew he wanted you after that first convo at the store

You guys click so well aesthetically cause even though your brooding walking around and he looks all chill (and mischievous) like nothing can bother him, the way you two are holding hands with your thumb rubbing the back of each others palms is a dead give away you two are on the same page

Sometimes he sees you and is just like “you don’t match”

He never explains what he means by it but says it’s a good thing

Wasn’t scared at all to tell you he was spiderman

You two def go on swinging dates where he just takes you everywhere

Overall fun and happy times

PAVITR PRABHAKAR

He was a little nervous when he first saw you

Not because of your energy but because he thought you didn’t like him

Like you looked like if anyone approached you, you would rip their head off

So maybe he was a wee bit scared of how you looked

But he knew better than to judge appearances. Bro is so intuitive that he doesn’t need a meesily appearance to tell him who you are on the inside

So he walks up to you and says hi

The big smile that graces your face makes him smile big too

Happy he followed his intuition to just approach you

At first you two are just good friends

Anytime you two are in public you get weird looks

Like what’s this jolly looking fellow doing with you

Then you laugh at his antics all happily and they get it

You actually confessed first

As “intuitive” as he was he didn’t notice your feelings

Doesn’t take him by surprise though

Oh my gosh he is so happy and pda-ing in public and everyone is like are you sure you two are supposed to be together

But then your face lights up with this look of joy every time you look at him and people have no choice but to mind their business

It’s a good thing opposites attract, even though personality wise you two are very similar

Really happy he approached you despite his fear otherwise he would’ve never met the love of his life

BONUS! GWEN STACY

Gwen thought you were cool at first

Your height is what would’ve intimidated her not your aura

Like she isn’t scared or anything, just a little bit more on guard around you

she first met you at one of the band get together cause you were one of the band members friends

She didn’t want to judge on appearance though so she tries her best to keep her opinion about you to a minimum until she actually talked to you

Happy she did

saw you get up and get waters for everyone because “we should stay hydrated”

Thought it was cute how sweet you were

She approaches you and you two become friends quick

You two meet up regularly outside of band meets

Wouldn’t tell you that she found you super attractive (and vise versa)

Like not even looks, just you as a whole

Gives her scary dog privileges honestly

Likes yes she can one hundred percent defend herself and is more than capable

But no one even looks her way anymore when your with her

Made her happy to be left alone in the streets now

So you actually have to confess first

Sweetest confession ever got her flowers

She ofc says yes cause she had a crush on you too

You bake together all the time, even if one of you are good or bad; or both are good or bad at baking, you two are having fun

Meeting her dad was a given

At first he could’ve sworn you were a murderer

wasn’t feeling you at all

Then he had a convo with you and was like “oh okay I get it”

He loves how sweet you are and hopes you rub off on his daughter cause “she isn’t nice enough to him”

Happy relationship :)

©axeoverblade

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