#hobie brown was fucking perfect

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

ITSV is what I have called a perfect movie.

That being said, ATSV knocks it out of the fucking park. There could not have been a better sequel.

[kaybaeisgay]

no but really let’s talk about the dynamic between the older gen spideys vs young gen spideys for a moment, because it’s really got me fucked up.

miguel and all the older gen spideys seem so entirely accepting of all these “canon compliant” rules, because those rules absolutely validate the trauma that every one of them has gone through. the idea of “oh our pain had a reason, oh our heartbreak was for something after all” is a VERY powerful notion that—understandably—they welcome with open arms because they have already lived it.

but the younger gen spideys…. yes, most of them have bought into miguel’s logic for most of the movie, because of course you’re going to listen to the 1,000,000 adults all telling you the same thing when you’re fucking fifteen and desperate for any semblance of mentorship. and it sure does make a lot more sense when you yourself have also experienced a similar trauma to all the others.

but that’s exactly it, isn’t it? they’ve all experienced the same trauma—

that miles and pav have not.

so, no. actually, fuck your rules. and really, fuck your demands that i must suffer what you suffered just because you cannot accept me without it. and good on miles for saying it—good for all of the spideys who realized he was right—realized he was asking all the right questions instead of drawing all the wrong conclusions.

(yet. for all my anger i feel towards the older gen for pressuring him in that way….i also understand why they cling so desperately to these stupid “canon” rules. because, if miles can manage to resist it—if he or gwen or pav can escape what they never could—then suddenly, they have to ask the question of:

“what didn’t i do right?”

and

“was all that pain really for nothing?”

and accepting your life after having to ask those questions instantly becomes much more difficult.)

[bold-embrace]

Hobieee ♥️♥️

[whaliiwatching]

sparks fly

cleared the smoke for you

[clowningaroundmars]

my personal atsv hobie brown hc is that this boy can build a watch that enables the wearer to travel to any dimension they want to, made entirely out of cobbled up parts he "finds"

but anytime anyone brings up AI or algorithms or social media he pretends to be 100 years old

hobie: what's a bloody "snapchat"? fuckin 'ell those effects are nightmarish, mate

miles, exasperated: hobie, you BUILD TECH that astrophysicists in my dimension can't even replicate. how are filters on a phone trippin you up?

hobie: dunno, everyone's got their strengths n weaknesses, i 'spose... 🙄😒

[astrozure]

viva el anarcosindicalismo

[shivered-bones]

i personally don't think it's weird that hobie uses the union jack on his battle vest and the watch. like, yes, hobie can hate the government and be against british history while also embracing being british. he's poc, he's working class, he's celebrating britian for those groups of people who are victims to the system and do make up the majority of the population, and whose work the country was built on. they're the group of people you fight the government for. they're the people who have had no power to actually be a part of the problem, unlike the upper class. this is especially true for the younger generations.

hobie has a cockney accent, he uses slang, it's obviously an important part of his identity. he cares about injustice and what's the point of that if you don't care about the people it's being inflicted against?

[gildeddlily]

hobie brown is my new personality (this film was a fucking masterpiece)

not gonna spoiler anything cause I love people, gonna wait two or three days, but this is a fucking good way to open this year's pride month.

the animation was crazy, like two hours and twenty minutes of perfection. the characters, new and old, were perfect. the angsty-teen trope was portrayed perfectly, the difficulties from having an angsty teen as a son are portrayed perfectly. the romance is perfect. the tropes and plot are perfect. miguel is one of the most well-written character other than being yk handsome and totally woah. i want to eat hobie brown in every way someone can be eaten

[l13]

spiderverse twt links part 2

WARNINGS : NSFW, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, f!reader, the links are literally p#rn, proceed at your own risk

CHARACTERS: miguel o'hara, peter b parker, hobie brown, the spot, spider noir, webslinger

miguel

♡ miguel playing with your pussy as he sucks on your tits- getting you ready to take his cock, like the good girl you are<3

♡ this is for that one anon that sent me a hc about miguel getting pissed af if he caught you using one of your toys- ((I SAW IT AND IT WAS AMAZING I'VE WROTE SMTH BUT IT'S BEEN ON MY DRAFTS FOR LIKE A WEEK i can't seem to like it no matter how much i edit it but have this<333)) Miguel who then proceeds to snatch the toy from your grasp, muttering how you can't even come even with that. "S good right? Better than me?" "Noo, never- never better than you- oh please baby-" "That's fucking right."

bonus

♡ miguel punishing you when you arrive home after you talking shit all day- purposefully disagreeing on anything he says- even in mission briefs. makes sure to fuck you stupid just to remind you not to pull that shit again<3 "Acting like such a fucking bitch all day- fuck. Just needed my cock that bad, huh? Say it,"

peter

♡ peter whimpering pathetically once he starts cumming- moaning when you don't stop jerking his cock, and he's thrashing around, hips never stopping their little jumps as he whines prettily "I can't anymore- h please ffuckkkk, I ca-aan't," voice cracking as he sobs for you

♡ pussydrunk!peter that starts fucking you like an absolute madman, literally not able to stop thrusting inside of you even after he's cum two times already, his eyes are hazy, can barely focus on anything but he still grabs you by the hair to pull you against him almost harshly, panting hard as he somehow keeps fucking his cock back inside your drenched pussy

♡ peter laying flush against your back, humping you, thrusting his cock inside you till he's crying with you- whimpering and moaning from the way your pretty pussy feels around his cock

hobie

♡ hobie definitely wakes you up in the middle of the night if he can't sleep- pulls your panties to the side and makes you ride him, watching with a hand behind his head as you bounce your ass on his cock- thrusting his hips up to meet the rolls of your hips as he sighs, "Fuck- think I'll be wakin' you up every God damn night, baby.." "Yeah do it- fuckin' make me cum-"

♡ hobie losing his FUCKING mind when he sees you hold your folds open for him- giving him the perfect view of his cock entering your pussy again and again-

♡ no bccc. NO BECAUSEEEEEEE. tell me why he'd do this. he'd def dry hump you till you're both moaning against each other's mouths before he'd fuck you, refusing to remove his underwear from before- saying he likes looking at them all stained with your juices as you bounce up and down his cock<3

spider noir

♡ tw!!!somno noir loving seeing you wear tights/stockings, and absolutely loses his mind when he sees you laying like that on the couch- skirt bundled up on the floor, you'd probably taken it off right before laying down, and fuck- it's so fucked up that he's doing this but he can't help himself as he takes his cock out, slapping it against your ass two-three times before he starts jerking it, slowly, "So pretty for me honey.. 'nd you don't even know it," "Fuck- sorry- I'm sorry- I can't stop, can't fuckin' stop-"

♡ noir letting you control the pace for once as he leans back, supporting his weight with his palms on the mattress as you bounce your ass on his cock vigorously- and he's grunting, muttering praises, until he gets greedy and grabs you by the hips to thrust inside you with a new-found passion, "Did so well for me, such a good girl- unh-" "I'll fuck you so well, don't you worry-" "Won't be able to fuckin' walk tomorrow, honey."

♡ feel like noir would be used to more 'old fashioned' shit so when he met you, he'd become 10x times more freaky- that includes cumming on your face 🤭 he'd be reluctant at first- "Why waste it? You're tellin' me you don't want it in your pussy, hm?" but then he actually does it one time and becomes OBSESSED, "God fucking- I'm gonna cum-" "Where d'you want it sweetie," "Yeah? Ffuck yes- gonna paint your pretty face with my cum-"

the spot

♡ we've established that spot is a certified pussy eater, even without a mouth he'd find a fucking way- he'd just push your cunt into his face hole, and lap at your pussy greedily- moaning as he did so

♡ tw!! pegging jonathon? OH MY GODDDDDDDD and he's moaning so good for you too<3

♡ spot unable to stop pushing his hips back into your hand as you finger one of his holes- the feeling bringing tears into his eyes as he cries out for you<33

♡ him nearly YELLING when he comes inside you- moaning loudly as he pumps you full of his cum<3

webslinger

♡ tw!! breeding kink "Legs up f'me darlin'.... just like that," thrusts into you relentlessly, head thrown back as he literally cannot handle how good your pussy feels around his cock, and he grunts as he pulls out, jerking his cock, his hand shaking, "Can't cum inside you huh, pretty? Can't get you pregnant- not yet-"

♡ him finally slipping and coming inside you- moaning with his eyes rolled back as he feels your cunt sucking him in- "Ah shit- m sorry darlin' I couldn't hold m'self back.."

♡ him pounding you from the back and then suddenly deciding that he wants to watch you ride him instead- (save a horse, ride a cowboy), absolutely looooves watching your face contort in pleasure, your tits bouncing as you guide yourself up and down his cock<3

[mcondance]

nail polish — hobie brown

you’ve never been the type to be able to make decisions. everything's always so confusing to you, picking between this and that is always so stressful. and that’s why you and your boyfriend are a perfect match— he’s always eager to help, so you always make him decide what color nails you should get.

you hear your phone go off as you pull into the parking lot of the nail shop, tense shoulders smoothing down at the notification you know is from hobie.

. . . until you see the contents of his text.

it’s a video, sent with the message “this color”. you just know you don't see what you think you see. no fuckin' way.

what the fuck.

you press play. the still image of your pussy wrapped around your boyfriend's dick starts. no fuckin' way.

slaps ring out through your car, playing from your speakers, mixing with hobie’s groans and your fucked-out whines. god, do you really sound like that?

it’s recorded from hobie’s angle, cutting off right where your arch starts. you watch as the video plays— watch yourself throw your ass back onto hobie’s dick, watch hobie’s slim hips meet your ass, watch the hand that's not holding his phone grip your waist, pulling you back onto him.

there's a milky white ring around the base of cock, and every time you push off you reveal that the rest of his cock is covered in it, is covered in you. hobie's grunts and your whines send you right back to the day he filmed this, and for a second you swear you're back there, heavy chest filled with breathes that seem impossible to take.

"spread it, baby, lemme see that shit," and you do, reaching back with both hands to display your messy cunt for him, documenting for yours and his eyes the way you so eagerly swallow him up. you spot the color on your nails. it's hobie's favorite, probably the reason he picked up his phone to record. "she take me so well, she love me, i swear."

you shift in your seat. what the fuck.

"you know she do," you hear yourself purr through a smile— damn, you sound good. hobie gives you a smack on your ass in response, not pulling his hand off just to grip and slap your reddened skin again. you hear yourself make a sound that falls between a whine and a giggle. falling forward from his slap, you watch the screen turn black as he catches you.

"i got you, baby. lemme turn this shit off."

the video ends. you're left staring at yourself in black reflection of your phone. snapping out of it, you exit the video, shaking your head and huffing out a shaky breath.

"what the fuck hobie" you text back.

"what" "you asked me what color"

"whatever. i'll text u after 🙄" "we looked good in that video tho 😭😭"

"yeah we did. now go get them nails done."

[autumn-hiraeth]

I don’t know if your requests are open right now, if they’re not, you can totally ignore this.

but I would literally sell my soul to get a hobie brown choking fem reader smut. I am so down bad for this man’s hands bro. there so lanky and long and sfgajakg. and like he calls her princess 😭😭😭.

i’ve read literally every Hobe Brow fic you’ve written and there all SO GOOD!!

hey, anon! 🍂 i know it took me ages, so i hope you like it!

Hobie Brown x reader

Headcanons- NFSW!

Hobie's hands are just right.

They are lanky and long, his fingers always reaching spots that you can't reach with yours.

Hobie loves to squirl his fingers inside you, giving love at your sweet spot as the same time he rubs your clit with the perfect pace to make you moan and whimper.

But today, Hobie wants to try something new in the bedroom.

He presses his naked body against yours meanwhile his tongue is ravaging your mouth, he loves giving you sloppy kisses.

The imagen of your swollen lips and covered by his saliva, it drives him crazy and gets him harder.

So after smooching up a storm with his girl, hobie hurries up to unbotton your jeans, take off your top and removes your lacy underwear.

" ah...hobie" you let out a whimper when he latches in your nipple, cupping your breast as his wet and warm tongue swirls over your nipple.

Hobie smirks and unzips his jeans, pulling down it along with his boxer.

" mph...ah..." his fat and hard cock hits your stomach, his mouth is still sucking your tit so you stroke him lazily and his hips jerks.

" f-fuck, luv" hobie finally stops worshiping your breasts and his tongue licks your collarbone.

You rub his leaking tip against your thumb and his hand grips harder in your hips, his mouth is over your neck, nibbling and kissing.

" you're so good...luv.." hobie moans, loving how your hand strokes his shaft harder.

Hobie rubs your nipple and finally he guides his throbbing cock against your entrance, making you whimper, when he rubs himself against your wet fold and then he pushes his fat tip inside you slowly.

" oh..fuck...you're so tight,princess" his hips bucks against yours, you are taking all of him and feels so good, he is big and feels so fucking good inside you, so deep.

His lanzy hands guides your hips to ride him harder, your tits bouncing in front of his face. You're driving him crazy, the way you are moaning his name, the way you are clenching around him.....God...he is losing his mind.

" be a good girl f'me" he grunts and suddenly his hand wraps around your neck.

This is new.

Hobie is choking you while you are a mess of whimpers and moans, riding him hard and fast.

Your eyes are rolling back, your head tilting back and he loves the sight.

" you like it uh? You are whore for my cock and now for my hands, right ?" He whispers against your ear, the pressure on your neck is so delicious.

You are close and he knows it.

" c'mon princess, cream over me" the flesh is meeting in every thrust, making a filthy sound, the bed is rocking against the wall; everything feels so good and right when hobie is fucking your brains out.

And finally, he spills out inside you, painting your walls with his warm seed.

" ah...yes...yes..oh god...hobie!" you scream his name in a bliss when he makes you come too.

His hand is still on your neck, but now he is not applying pressure, his lanky fingers rub your neck and kisses the spot to ease the feeling after choking you for a while.

" you're good, princess?" hobie mumbles against your skin and you nod.

Hobie smirks and gives you a chaste kiss on your lips

" good, cuz i have not done with you yet'

[whaliiwatching]

the shore was kissed by sea and mist… tenderly

—

big inspired by this post <3

[cherryredstars]

well well well..

walks inside in a cartoonish manner and pushes glasses up

let me say i FLEW to the app when i saw the hobie notif. delicious.

an extreme edging hobie brown fic? 😊 like MANY times?? as many as you think he could take?? him passing out after nutting too hard when he is finally allowed?? i need that man crying and twitching 👍

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Handjobs, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Edging, Passing Out

Summary: This is why he doesn’t believe in it. 

Word Count: 1.8K (Not Edited)

This was supposed to be fun. 

You said it was going to be fun. Different, but fun. And Hobie, he likes different. He likes fun. He likes you. So of course he agreed. He always agreed to things of that sort, besides the times he didn't agree to those types of things because that’s being consistent and Hobie doesn’t believe in consistency (unless it’s you because that’s the only good kind of consistency). You know, Hobie always got himself into all types of trouble. It’s made him a quick thinker, a really good problem solver. There was very little that he couldn’t save himself from. 

He couldn’t save himself from this one. 

You looked like one bloody seducer, on your knees before him with that look on your fucking face. So innocent and pure and mischievous and rebellious. Everything and anything and nothing all at once. Perfect, absolutely perfect and mind boggling. 

And everything felt so good. Too good and too much and too little and in need of more. More and more and more. And you gave it to him. In the right doses, or too little, or too much, or too far inbetween, or too close together. Did he mention it was too much? Because it was, it was a lot. But it was a good a lot, but it was also a bad a lot, but a good bad a lot. If you know you know, but if you don’t you’re definitely doing something wrong. 

But you weren’t doing it wrong. Your hands and mouth and fucking tight ass walls were doing it right. And usually that isn’t a problem, but today it is. It’s a problem because it’s Hobie’s problem and you’re making it his problem. Because when you said it was going to be fun, you meant it as going to be fun for you. Not Hobie, you. Because your idea of fun is making men suffer and reducing them to whimpering messes, which Hobie would usually salute you for on any other occasion. But he can’t because, well he can’t think very clearly anymore and he’s the man you’ve decided to make suffer. So there is very little to salute at the moment. 

You’re moving your hand in a way he can’t stand because it feels so good and gets him close too soon and what’s the fun in something ending prematurely? Your hands are soft, tugging on him roughly as your other hand cups his tip and rubs rapid circles around it. It has his hips bucking, curses spilling from his mouth. His hand is behind your head, his own thrown back as he pleads for you to stop and to keep going. He can’t really decide what he wants from you at the moment. 

You’re fucking laughing at him though, cooing and asking him if he’s alright. If he wasn’t getting the best handjob of his life he would shoot something snarky and flirtatious back at you, but he is currently getting the best handjob of his life so you’ll have to wait. Well, he was getting the best handjob of his life. He isn’t anymore because you’ve decided to be a fucking menace and pull your hands away right before he was going to get his bloody release. It has his whole body, mostly his cock, twitching in denial. His hips are still bucking up, humping the air and trying to prolong the quickly vanishing stimulation from your hands. He’s panting heavily, chest heaving and he groans. 

Do you have to be so damn consistent? This is why he hates consistency. Consistency ain’t no fun for no one. Especially for Hobie, which is why he doesn’t believe in it. But it’s a bloody shame that you believe in consistency. Because you’re using consistency against him and it’s getting in the way of his orgasms. And, you don’t fuck with a man and his orgasms. But he’s not going to say that out loud because he’s sure it sounds egotistical or narcissistic or whatever the fuck. He doesn’t know at the moment, his brain is too busy short circuiting. Come back later. But back to consistency. Did he mention he hates it? Because he does, but you don’t. You just love consistency and edging him for no good reason besides it being ‘fun’.

“Love, you’re being consistent.” Hobie mumbles in between pants. “We don’t like consistency.”

You hum in disagreement, shutting him up with your mouth. On his cock. On his sensitive cock that has not had a release in the past 3 hours. He would have came around seven, wait no its eight, times by now if it weren’t for your desire to torture him. But maybe that’s okay. Can’t think again, your mouth feels too good soothing that ache in his cock. Making up your mind is overrated anyways.

You’re letting out exaggerated sounds around his cock, sending vibrations up his length. It causes him to whine, both of his hands falling to your head. He guides your movements, fucking into your mouth. You quickly pull away, saliva flowing down your chin. You remove his hands away from your head, getting rid of any control he has over your movements. It causes him to whine out again, huffing like a spoiled child. He’ll behave if you want him too. He just needs you to start sucking him off again, and maybe to make him come, but he definitely needs to feel your mouth around him again. He presses his hips up towards your face, offering his cock back to you with whimpers and slurred pleading. 

You smile up at him as you begin jerking him off again, slipping him back into your mouth. You bob your head rapidly, lashes fluttering everytime you bring him to the back of your throat. He hisses when you gag around him, your throat contracting around his tip. He’s so close to exploding again, his hands bunching up his sheets to use as leverage so he can thrust into your mouth. You keep your head still, letting him fuck into you. He whines, moaning and grunting. This is it, this has to be it. You’re gonna let him come this time. You’re going to let him fill up your mouth. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yesyesyesyesyesyesyes,” he babbles to himself, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. His face scrunches up, eyes watering behind his lids from the pleasure. His mouth drops wide open as he moans, preparing to succumb to the feelings of release. 

He doesn’t get it though. You pull back again and his eyes snap open. He lets himself fall to his back on the bed, tears spilling from his eyes at your betrayal. His body is twitching again, jumping from the sensitivity he feels. This isn’t fun at all.

Your face comes to view, hovering over his. You’ve wiped the spit off your face, but Hobie turns away from you. You coo gently at him, turning his face back towards you and giving him sweet kisses along his cheeks in apology. He can only whine under you, his hands grabbing at your ass desperately. His cock is in need of attention, veins protruding from the skin and glossy from spit and precum. 

You distract him from the pain with a sloppy kiss, both of you moaning into it. He pulls away with a loud groan, heading falling back as you sink onto him. You’re warm and tight, walls molding to the shape of his cock. His dick is a twitching mess, jumping inside of you in excitement. You let out a mix of moans and giggles, feeling precum leaving his tip in preparation. Your hands fall to his chest in support, rotating your hips experimentally. 

Hobie’s grip tightens, his accent growing thick as he babbles. He begs for more, tears still flowing from his eyes as he tries to move your hips faster. You comply, moving one of your hands to his thigh, leaning back as you buck your hips. He’s surprised he hasn’t finished already, eyes rolling back as he curses. Your moans mix with his loud whimpers, beginning to bounce. Hobie writhes on the bed, twisting his body and moving his hips desperately. He moans in displeasure when you slow down, practically motionless besides the slow and small circling of your hips. 

Of course, it was too good to be true. He lolls his head to the side, a pathetic and pleading look in his eyes. It makes you smile condescendingly, your hand falling to his cheek. He leans into the touch, but he has a scrunched up look on his face. 

“What is it, darling? You look sad,” You pout teasingly to him and he whines back a muffled ‘please’. You tilt your head in false confusion, blinking nicely down at him. 

Hobie bucks his hips up, almost throwing you off if it weren’t for your hands planted on his body, “Please, just- fuck- please just move.”

Your smile grows bigger, slowly building back to the rapid pace you set before. Hobie moans out in content, his hands grabbing you everywhere he can reach. He’s a desperate mess, thanking you in slurred words and begging you not to stop. Your thighs are beginning to burn with how forcefully they hit his skin, your own orgasm fast approaching. You decide you’ve tortured him enough, giving the last of your energy to get you off. You finish quickly, staining him in your release. It triggers his own, a loud and guttural yell leaving him as he fills you. It’s hot and warm and never-ending. You fall forward, burying your face into his neck as you cry out. It drips out of you as more and more replaces it, coating his cock in white. It feels like hours when he finally stops spilling into you, leaving you a panting mess. Hobie’s hold on you slackens, and the rapid heaving of his chest begins to die down. 

It takes you a bit longer to catch your breath, kissing Hobie’s neck as it finally calms, “Holy fuck, there was so much.”

You giggle to yourself, waiting for Hobie to join along. Your brows furrow when he remains silent. You slowly pull away from his skin, calling his name questionably. You’re left in shock when you see his calm face, eyes shut as he sleeps. You laugh in disbelief, gently slapping his face to wake him up. His eyes are foggy and scrunched when he opens them, moaning weakly at you. 

‘Hobie, babe, you gotta stay up. We need to clean up.” Hobie shakes his head stubbornly, wrapping his arms around you to pull you back down on him. You can feel his breath slowing down as he falls back into sleep.

“You’re a bloody fucking menace.”

[eyesxxyou]

Fun & Games

☆🕷️。・hobie brown x blackcat!reader

rating. m

word count. 3.3k

synopsis. you and Hobie have long been playing the game of cat and spider. you chase, you fight, you fuck, you fight again, and you two love your games. but it's truly all fun and games until you manage to get your hands on an interdimensional device.

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🐾warning: p in v sex, unprotected sex don't do that children, possessive!hobie, public sex, y/n is a real hoe and I love her for that, odd love hate relationship, clit slapping, Gwen's here very briefly, wall sex, bondage, mentions of injury, just me being horny so it's kinda horribly written, lemme know if I missed anything

"She's gotta be somewhere." Gwen sat perched on a ledge, the eyes of her mask wide and alert for any sign of the anomaly. In other words, you. You had somehow managed to get your hands on a interdimensional device of Miguel's making and have been hopping all around the multiverse causing mayhem. "You sure you have no idea where she's at? She's from your dimension after all, not to mention-"

The thing is, the devices don't show exact locations. They just tell you what dimension others are in. Leaving Gwen and Hobie hopping about right after you to put you back where you belong.

It was Hobie's fault after all. Being the Black Cat of his dimension meant you were good at sleight of hand. A single run in with you and next thing he knows his device is gone, his cock is hard, and he misses you so fucking much.

"Yeah, yeah, i's my fault or whateva." He spoke over the communicator, his eyes scanning across the streets for just a peek of that brilliant white hair of yours. "I'll keep an eye out, jus' stay where you are and don't underestimate 'er. She'll put you on ya arse before ya know it." He's gone toe to toe with you plenty of times to know that you're rather skilled in combat. And for reasons he'd also know that you're flexible.

He cut off his device, the one Miguel reluctantly gave him after laying into him over his incompetence. "You're gonna deal with this mess you've made!" He almost crushed the device in his hand from gripping it so hard as he pushed it into Hobie's chest. "You get her back to where she belongs then you're out. You're done."

Hobie honestly couldn't give less of a damn about being booted from the society. Taking orders and being a part of a team was really cramping his style. Preferred it when it was just him and his own dimension's problems.

He hopped between buildings in this dimension looking for any marker of you. Your cloud-like hair done always in wild, untamed curls that somehow manage to sit perfect around your face. You wore black leather, nice sharp spikes, claws you made yourself that left their scar against his chest as well as down his back.

Hobie liked how complicated your relationship is. How you constantly kept him on his toes, remained so inconsistent that he never got bored. One second you were on your knees, his cock weighing heavy on your pretty tongue, just narrowly missing the angel bite piercings you had with fangs in, and the next, you were trying to claw his eyes out of his face. You were batshit fucking insane and he was absolutely in love with you though, he'd never admit that.

He hoped he found you before Gwen did— it's been just a little under a month and he's been feening for you, spending his lonely nights when he doesn't have a million wounds and a few broken bones to tend to with his hand wrapped firmly around his cock and your name wetting his lips with prayer. He's fucking pussy-whipped, desperate, absolutely nuts for you.

And when he finds you (which he always does somehow), you're hopping across a rooftop and sliding down a gutter into a nearby alleyway. He follows you stealthily, lingering in the shadows as he rounds the corner and drops into the shady alley. But he finds you aren't there. He pauses, talks a moment to let his instincts take the lead.

It just took a second, a small tingle, the hairs on the back of his neck standing but he hardly had any time to react before you were on his back with your claws pressed against his throat. "Ya missed me?" You whispered in his ear with the touch of a smile in your voice.

Hobie moved quickly, pushing the both of you back until your back slammed against the jagged brick wall and your grip loosened just enough for him to pry himself out of your clawed hold. He webbed you up with your hands trapped above your head. Your goggles were already pushed up into your wild hair and your cat-like eyes gleamed at him. "I'd say you do."

Hobie reached up and pulled off his mask. “Nice to see ya too, Y/N. We can have our reunion once ya back where ya belong.”

“Never took you as the type to join a committee of interdimensional spider fascist.” You scoff, wriggling your wrist against the binding of his webs but you know all too well how strong they actually are. Many times have you been caught in his web, bent in all sorts of positions. He’s always been your favorite toy.

“No’ by choice. You did me a fava’ actually, they gave me the boot ‘cause of you.” He came close, his tall, lean stature looming over you as he removed the watch from your wrist and deactivated it. Hobie looked down at you, looking into your sultry eyes that told him you just wanted to sit on his dick then make your grand escape. You’re always dressed in leather, your shorts so tight and small it leaves hardly anything to the imagination. You were wearing those torn up, distressed tights he loved so much and that he’s definitely torn his own fair share of holes in.

“Don’t you want to know why I went to the places I did?”

“There’s a reason?” He thought it was just you fucking around, trying to cause as much mayhem as possible, begin a nice little collection of diamonds stolen from different dimensions. Your motivations were always a bit hard to decipher.

You leaned in as close as you could in the position you were stuck in and whispered to him, “All the dimensions I went to had a version of you in them. I wanted to see which one was my favorite.” It was a confession of sin just between the two of you in this dark little alleyway he had you stuck in. “Would you like me to tell you about the other yous I’ve met?” You took his stoic silence as answer enough.

“There was one with the prettiest eyes. One blue and one brown. I got to look in them while I rode his pretty face. He made me cum so hard.” Your voice was so heavy with the memory of it but you didn’t linger. “And the other one, nice, long locs. He fucked me so good my legs were shaking. Oh- and the other one made me squirt for the first time-”

Your descriptions sparked something primal in Hobie, something carnal and possessive. A part of him was aroused at the thought of your pretty little cunt he was absolutely addicted to getting ran through by different versions of himself. Maybe you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you, why else would you do something like this?

“You a lil’ whore, ya know tha’, kitty?” His hands were already at the waist of your shorts, undoing the makeshift button you had made after he broke the original one a while ago. His lips were on yours, licking and biting feverishly in attempt to get a taste of you. “Guess I gotta remind you who you belong to.” He needed to tame your pretty little pussy, domesticate it, make it purr for him.

“I don’t belong to anyone, you know that.” You murmur against his lips, shifting your hips to make it easier for him to get your shorts out of the way. He pulled them down to your knees just above your boots and shifted away from you to duck under and slot his way between your nylon-clad thighs. He trailed kisses up the length of your body as he made his way back up, shoving your torn shirt up so his lips could feel your heated skin. “I’d beg to diffa, luv. I think you know ya slutty pussy belongs to me because why else would you hop aroun’ the multiverse just to hook up wit’ me ova and ova again?” He forced your shirt up over your tits, leaving you nice and exposed, unable to do anything about it even if you wanted.

“I’ve just gotta show you tha’ the original is always the bes’.” He had no time to take his time, to worship every inch, every curve, every dimple. He wanted his cock in you, he wanted to fuck you hard, fast, and deep. He wanted to destroy that pride of yours and force you to admit that he will always be your favorite.

He knows that's just how you like it. Rough, quick, and almost animalistic with a hint of risk. You can't get off without it. 

He tears a new hole in your tights right that the crotch and finds that your panties are already soaked, the vague outline of your plump pussy pressing against the fabric that clings to you like a second skin. He gets so hard at just the sight of it, so hard it becomes painful. "I's been a long fuckin' time." Hobie breathed out under his breath. "Ma favorite girl missed me I can see." He pressed the bulge of his cock against your wet, desperate cunt.

Your muscles tense and shudder uncontrollably as your lips attempt to contain a horrid little whimper. You weren't usually so sensitive, Hobie could feel your thighs clamping at his hips in an attempt to close your legs. His fingers slid past your panties and pulled them to the side just to find that your pussy was already pink and swollen, abused and misused by all the cocks you've already taken. You were so damn sensitive, your bud throbbing and engorged.

Hobie couldn't help but let out a chuckle, a smirk framing the scoff he let out. "A fuckin' slut, I tell you. You've already been so damn ran through." He slapped your pussy nice and firm and your whole body jolted with the pain and pleasure it caused and you cried out a little too loud.

"Migh' wanna be quiet. Ya don't wan' someone coming down and seeing your poor cut gettin' abused." His fingers slid between your slick folds, every part of you tender to the touch, every movement leaving your body trembling. It's pathetic how quickly he can have you and squeaking, whining, crying mess. A street cat tame by those long, slender fingers of his as he plays in your mess, a reminder of all the other hims you've had. You had been out on a conquest and somehow it's ending with you getting conquered.

It was easy for him to glide his fingers into your heat, the pad of his thumb drawing circles on your poor clit while he used his other hand to grab your chin and force you to look him in the eyes. "Can you feel tha'?' Your cunt was swallowing his digits down to the knuckle and squeezing. "Nice lil' kitty is purrin' fo' me. Think I migh' make 'er a house cat."

"Go fuck yourself." You manage to choke out between the strangled moans of your throat. Hobie chuckled and kissed you, nice and hard with his tongue against yours and his fingers playing your pussy like a fiddle. God, he was so good at what he did, knew just where your sweet spot was to have you crumbling in his hold. 

He pulled back a little, both of your lips wet with saliva, and nipped at your bottom lip. His fingers pumped in and out of your trembling pussy that wept for him, your slick dripping from his knuckles. You writhed against your restraints, claws sawing at his webbing to little avail. And you knew his fingers were nothing compared to that gorgeous cock of his that fit in you so snuggly and touched places that, before him, you hadn’t even known existed.

But his fingers were so good, able to caress your walls in ways his length couldn’t. His thumb rubbed your clit ferociously, sending spiked balls of pleasure to every muscle in your body. You spasmed, back arching off the walls, eyes rolling, vision blurry. “S-stop fuckin’ with me.” You manage to spit out at him in a shaking gasp.

“But fuckin’ wit’ ya is my favorite part.” Hobie slipped his fingers from your messy hole and took it upon himself to get a taste. “Plus, i’s no’ like you show me any mercy when ya in one of ya moods. I’ve gotta point to prove here.” His hands began to undo his belt with rushed persistence.

“And what point is that?” You watch him pull himself out, the length of his cock pressed against your pelvis. Prettiest you’ve ever seen, nice and long with subtle veins and dark brown tip beading with pearls of precum that weep from his tip and roll down the underside of his shaft.

Hobie maneuvered (more like manhandled) your fame so that your legs were up over his shoulders. He spat on his fingers, used it as lube to spread down his length. “Tha’ you ‘n I both know you can’t replace me with some off brand version.”

“Oh, I’d argue they were very on brand. All had that pretty face of yours. That prettier cock.” Your words faltered a bit as he pushed into you without so much as a warning, jealousy getting the better of him. His fingers grip your thighs, body pressing you into the wall while his hips rutted against you. He fucked you like an animal, his teeth gritting, his cock brutalizing your used up cunt. And the position allowed him to sink so deep you felt him in your gut, in your throat, in your very head. He fucked the air out of your lungs but that didn’t stop your cries of pleasure.

And as pretty as they were, Hobie didn’t need the two of you being stumbled upon. He placed his palm over your mouth, kept you placid and quiet white he fucked you with intention. He was gonna claim your pussy, paint it white, make it his, let you know that no matter how hard you try the two of you will always find yourself dancing to this same song. You’d fight, you’d fuck, you’d fight again, you’d fuck again. Sometimes you were allies, sometimes you were enemies, but at all times you were lovers.

He spanked your swollen clit while he fucked you in such a brutal nature. There was no sympathy for you, no mercy, no kindness offered. Just carnality unmatched by any of your other affairs. It might be the spider venom bound to his DNA making him this way. Hobie– normal Hobie, rational Hobie– was not a jealous person, especially not towards someone who, in all cases, did not belong to him.

The emotions of it were conflicting. The mixture of jealousy and arousal at the thought of you with another version of himself because in all the ways that made him who he was on paper was, he was with you every single time. Genetically, generally, the vague outline of himself. But the experiences were different, slightly tweaked in a way, and in the way that matters you had fucked entirely different people. And that was the fun of it. What would be the point of sleeping with the same person over and over again if not for the slight differences every time.

Hobie wondered if they made you feel this way, your back arching so dramatically off the wall, your eyes going cross with pleasure as your moans are contained behind his palm. The two of you had so much shared history that even if they were better, it still wouldn't compare. He knew you like he knew many things, on a level balanced by emotion and technicality.

The two of you were never meant to be anything more than this, a quick, filthy fuck in the back alley of some random place and yet you both were sure you were soulmates in some sick twisted way. You'd both go around in these pointless circles having the most fun with never making the effort to define yourselves or restrict yourselves to something that wasn't completely and entirely you.

Your toes curled in your boots as you felt the brutality of an orgasm coming your way. It built within you, clawing to get out like you clawed through the webs. It seized you like being strangled, curled around your body, left you warm and fuzzy and delirious.

"Look a' me, luv. Look a' me with those pretty eyes of yours." The way he fixed your face forward, made you look him in the eyes. "Nice lil' pussy gonna make me cum." Your walls spasmed, hugged him, squeezed around his length, molding to every curve, every vein. If only his hand weren't over your mouth, you'd kiss his pretty lips and tell him to shut the fuck up and just fuck you, just lose himself in you.

And oh, was he losing himself. An orgasm quickly approaching on the horizon. Hobie pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes low and sultry as he removed his hand from your mouth and gripped your thighs once more. "Fuck-" Hobie gasps and shudders, his abdomen tightening with the beginnings to a climax.

"Go ahead, pretty boy. You said you have a point to prove, right? Go ahead and prove it." You watched in breathless pants as he takes his pleasure in you, comes undone for you, his fingertips pressing bruises into your supple skin. "You're my favorite, my pretty boy." You confess to him. In all versions, you were simply looking for him, something you didn't find, no matter how eerily similar they all were.

Hobie murmurs something incoherent under his breath as he cums. He's swift with pulling out, just in time to spill his hot semen all over your heat. He claimed you like he always wanted to, with the way his hands left bruises in your skin, with the way his trembling cock spread his cum all over you, how his lips claimed yours in a moment of passion.

"You can stop pretendin' to be trapped now." Hobie murmured against your lips, pulling away and running his thumb across your kiss-swollen bottom lip before making himself decent. You had long sawed your way through his webs, they never last that long. You let your arms drop. "Finally, they were startin' to hurt." 

Hobie removes himself from your body, letting you take the time to get yourself together. "How much time do I have this time?" It was back to business as usual, not that either of you minded. You both enjoyed your games.

"A minute before I call my partna. Two before I start chasin' you myself." He always gave you a bit of a head start, maybe out of some soft spot he had for you. Sometimes he caught you, sometimes he didn't, it was all up to chance.

You pull your goggles out of you disheveled hair and fix them over your eyes. You lean into him, close enough that he thought you might kiss him. "I'll try not to break your nose this time, lovely." You peck his lips as a distraction as you slip your hand into the pocket of his vest and attempt to steal your stolen watch back.

Hobie's already thinking one step ahead of you. His hand grasps your wrist. "No' tha' generous. An' you've got 'bout 40 seconds lef'. Better get goin'." He's dealt with your bullshit more times than he can count. He knows what goes on in that pretty head of yourself, how you're always scheming, even against him— especially against him."

You scoff then chuckle. "Fine— c'ya 'round, Bee." You turn and rush off, grasping a gutter to leap up on the rooftop and run off.

You both love your fun and games.

[risingoftime]

A NIGHT TO REMEMBER ⟡ HOBIE BROWN

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

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

part i | part ii

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, love.”

navigation | masterlist

[love-bitesx]

was booking myself a new tattoo and this is all i could think of ! this is just brainrot ramble

: ̗̀➛ hobie brown x gn!reader - giving him tattoos (and yourself)

thinking about giving hobie sweet little tattoos with a makeshift stick and poke set up. he'd come home drunk one night, slurring his words and holding you close to him, ranting about how he wants you to give him a tattoo (and something about not wanting to pay big corporations for a real tattoo gun). even if you’re not creative, he just wants to be able to look at his skin and see evidence of you, always. you refuse him at the time, telling him he's too drunk and he'll regret it. but when it's the next day, and he's stone cold sober, you walk in on him hunched over the kitchen table, making a little stick and poke creation.

so, it’s late at night, he’s sprawled out across your bed like it was his, his head and shoulders pressed into the headboard, eyes trained on you. straddling his lap, you held his arm up to the lamp, tongue stuck out in concentration. hobie winced everytime the needle met his skin, his free hand gripping at your thigh to outlet the pain. when you're done, and he's all cleaned up, he's lit up with pride, constantly checking his arm in different lights to see your design. "it's perfect, darlin'," he mutters, his lips pressed to your forehead.

he’d very rarely ever wear sleeves again after that, always having your design on show to remind him of you when he’s away. not that he needed it, you always had a comfortable seat in the front of his mind. he’d show it off to his friends, though, all the time.

"oi, pav!" he'd call out to his friend, drawing his attention over to his exposed skin.

"you got a tattoo!" pav would exclaim, hopping over and inspecting it closely.

“my partner did it,” he couldn’t mask the grin from fuzzing his cheeks, “fuckin' sick, right?”

his heart wasn't even prepared for what he'd come home to that night. when he'd climb in through your window, shedding his spider-apparel and kicking his boots off by your dresser, he'd notice your sleeping form. smiling to himself, picking up the sheets and climbing into the empty space, careful not to startle you – not that it would, you were more used to waking up beside him than alone.

his hands wouldn't be able to stop themselves from touching you, needing to feel your skin beneath his fingertips, and beaming at the sleepy sound of his name leaving your lips. when his hands find your hip, however, you jump and groan in pain. he'd pull you to him.

"'the fuck 'appened?" he'd whisper, careful not to touch the area again, but be confused at your reaction.

"tattoo," is all he could catch, through your tired, and possibly pained, groans.

"you what?" he'd mutter, and lift the covers back, hiking up your his t-shirt to expose a tiny black design, sitting on the skin above your hip bone.

etched into you was a tiny spider, hand drawn and adorned with little spikes, similar to his persona. he'd be so taken aback, he wouldn't even know what to say.

"'s'this for me, sweetheart?" his fingers would very lightly ghost the dark outlines, honing into your body's reaction to it, steering clear of the painful areas. he's close to you, very close, and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest.

"mhmm," you moan, your brain finally pulling itself from slumber, warm in the smell of him, tangling your arms around his neck, "all for you."

"fuckin' ell," he breathed before kissing you with such a passion you'd never felt from him before. he was drowning in you, head buzzed at the thought of something of him being on your skin forever, and you on his. heart pouring, he reached for you in every way he could.

he'd be obsessed with both of the tattoos, strongly encouraging you to never ever wear anything high-waisted again, so long as he steered away from sleeves. pride and happiness overtook him when he'd see you with other people, in public or with friends, and see the black ink peek through your clothes, knowing that it was for him, and nobody else.

he just loved you a lot, and he adores the permanent reminders.