#punk!reader

[aventurineswife]

Rebel Hearts and Bruised Knuckle

Summary: In the neon-lit underbelly of Zaun, you and Vi cross paths in the pit fights—two fighters with too much history and too little self-preservation. What starts as a rivalry built on fists and bravado slowly morphs into something deeper, something neither of you are ready to admit. Between late-night confessions, bruised knuckles, and stolen kisses, you challenge Vi to fight for something more than survival. But in a city that takes more than it gives, love might just be the hardest battle yet.

Tags: Vi x Reader, Punk!Reader, Pit Fighting, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Baggage, Late Night Conversations, Kissing Under Neon Lights.

Warnings: Strong Language, Violence & Blood, Emotional Trauma, Mentions of Past Imprisonment, Bruises & Injuries, Smoking.

Thank you for beta-reading this @kaveriayyansolos115 🤭💖

The underbelly of Zaun had a pulse of its own—a thrumming, electric heartbeat fueled by neon lights, pounding basslines, and the sharp crack of fists meeting flesh. That was where you thrived.

A punk through and through, you wore your rebellion like a second skin—leather jacket scuffed from too many fights, chains clinking with every step, tattoos winding up your arms like battle scars. The people here knew you, respected you, maybe even feared you a little. But fear was just another form of admiration, wasn’t it?

And then there was Vi.

You’d heard whispers about her before you ever met her—Stillwater’s ghost, the pit-fighting legend, Vander’s lost girl. She carried her past like an anchor, wrapped in bruised knuckles and barely-contained fury.

The first time you saw her, she was knocking a guy twice her size out cold in the ring, her signature gauntlets absent but her fists just as devastating. She stood there, shoulders rising and falling with adrenaline, a grin splitting her face like she hadn’t just broken someone’s nose.

You leaned against a rusted railing, lighting a cigarette. “Not bad, Pink.”

She turned, eyes locking onto you—eyes sharp enough to cut. “That supposed to mean something?”

You exhaled smoke, smirking. “Means you can throw a punch. But can you take one?”

That’s how it started—an unspoken challenge, a rivalry laced with something deeper, something electric. You clashed in the pit, fists flying, bruises blooming like warpaint. She fought with the precision of someone who had everything to prove. You fought like you had nothing to lose.

It was a dangerous balance.

But the fights were just the surface. The real war happened in late-night walks through Zaun’s twisting alleys, where she asked about the anarchy symbols inked into your knuckles, and you traced the “VI” tattoo under her eye with your fingertips.

“You ever think about leaving this place?” she asked one night, voice rough from exhaustion, blood dried at the corner of her lip.

You shrugged. “Zaun’s in my bones. Running won’t change that.”

She hummed, staring out over the flickering city lights. “Yeah. I get that.”

There was a quiet understanding between you—two fighters, two lost souls, both too stubborn to break, too damaged to heal.

One night, after a particularly brutal match, you found her sitting on the edge of a rooftop, knuckles raw, shoulders slumped.

“You keep hitting walls like that, you’re gonna break before they do,” you muttered, sitting beside her.

She scoffed. “Ain’t the first time.”

You sighed, nudging her boot with yours. “Vi.”

She glanced at you, eyes dark, guarded. “What?”

You hesitated, then reached out, fingers ghosting over the cut on her cheek. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Just let you touch her, let you see her—past the bravado, past the scars.

“I’m not gonna tell you to stop fighting,” you said softly. “But maybe… fight for something that won’t kill you.”

She exhaled sharply, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “And what the fuck is that supposed to be?”

You smirked, leaning in just enough for your breath to brush her lips. “You tell me, Pink.”

And then, just like that, she kissed you—hard, desperate, like she was trying to pull the fight out of you and into her.

But you weren’t fighting this.

Not this time.

[cherryredstars]

Hi Cherry!! I love love loovveee your work and I was wondering if you could do another punk!reader x miguel one shot? I never really see any punk type readers and I would just love to have a reader that looks scary and punk/alternative ya know? Stuff like piercings, colored hair maybe, just stuff like that.

I LOVE YOU THANK YOU!!!!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gnPunk!reader

Warnings: Piercings, Fluff

A/N: Hi, love!! I hope you enjoy!!

Unedited

More Punk!reader

You can sense him laughing at you.

You squint your eyes open, relieving them from their scrunched up state. Miguel's lips are thinned as he tries to contain his laughter, the hold he has on your hand loose. You glare at him, and his eyes twinkle at you as you lay on the piercing table. You are so going to twist his nuts after this is over.

"This isn't funny." You hiss at him, turning your head away to not look at your body piercer as they prepare their equipment.

Miguel finally lets his chuckle out, rubbing his thumb soothingly against the back of your hand.

"It's just..." He starts off, a smile breaking on his face. "I've never seen you so scared before."

You huff, rolling your eyes. "Just because I'm scary, doesn't mean I don't get nervous every now and then."

Miguel's smile softens as he shakes his head, squeezing your hand tight. "I know. But I would think you would be used to this by now since you have so many piercings already."

Your mouth puckers to the side, humming in reluctant understanding and turning towards him slightly. "Yeah, but they still hurt."

Miguel hums back, smiling again when you freeze up as your piercer turns to you. You look at Miguel with wide eyes for a second before they turn back into glares.

"You better not let go of my hand Miguel O'Hara, or else I will make you cry like you've never cried before." You threaten.

Miguel nods obediently, tightening his hold on your hand as you move to lay straight and close your eyes. Your piercer chuckles at the banter, pressing down on the area that you want pierced to make sure there aren't any irregularities since the last time they checked a few minutes ago. Miguel sees the uneven rise and fall of your chest as you wait in anticipation, eyes scrunched tight.

"Promise, I'll even kiss it better when we're done." He reassures you.

You both silently agree to ignore the fact your voice was slightly pitchy the entire time you threatened him.

------------------------------------------

"Does it really take that long to read instructions?"

You're growing impatient, sitting crossed legged on a chair in the kitchen. You're wearing your go-to hair dying shirt, unwashable bleach stains and hair coloring marking the area around the collar and shoulders. All of the necessary tools to redye your hair sit on the counter closest to the two of you. Miguel is wearing the included gloves in the hair box kit you picked up from the store, the material straining as they're just able to fit his large hands. In his gloved hands are the hair dye box and the large pamphlet of instructions. By now, you would already have half of your head done, but Miguel insisted on helping you since he did promise at the bar that one night.

He's ready both the instructions on the box and in the pamphlet three times. In both English and Spanish. You cross your arms as you raise your brow at him, glaring at him.

"I've done this millions of times already, Miguel. But those fucking things down. I'll walk you through it." You groan.

Miguel ignored you, eyes squinting as he holds the paper closer to his face as he rereads. He's even got his fucking glasses out.

"Yeah, but I've never done this before. I don't want to damage your hair or something." Miguel argues as he flips the paper over to read the back, eyes skimming the paper in confusion until he realizes he's actually reading French.

"I don't know if you can tell but," You pause picking at a lock of your split-ended hair. "My hair's already fucked up. You literally can't fuck it up any more than it already is."

Miguel sighs as he puts the directions and paper back on the counter, finally beginning to mix the products together in the bowl included. He shakes his head as he does so, walking over to you so you can see if he's mixing it right. You smile at the sight of his concentrated face, tilting your head up when he's built up the courage to start applying it to your hair. You shiver slightly at the initial coldness, closing your eyes so it doesn't get into your eyes. Miguel is gentle as he applies the product and parts your hair to make sure it's spread evenly. Every now and then he stops to ask you for advice when he gets to a tricky patch of hair or is confused on how to part something.

But eventually, talking double the time it would if you did it yourself, Miguel steps away from you. Your eyes open slowly, seeing the look of pride on his face as he examines his work. You smile at the sight, reminding him to set a timer so you know when to wash your hair. While you wait, you help him clean up, making sure to look in the mirror to see if Miguel missed anywhere beforehand.

When you do wash your hair, the results turn out amazing. The color is vibrant and just how you imagined, and Miguel fawns over how amazing the new color looks on you. He even offers to take pictures of you for your Instagram, and you smile as you pull him into the frame, snapping a picture of you with your newly dyed hair and Miguel's excited face resting on your shoulder. When your friends and family start commenting and asking about who your new hairdresser was, you can't help but laugh.

Sorry, they're only reserved for me.

[averagemoxxiestan]

Punk!Reader core

[thewriterg]

🕷️your face

miles morales x b!punk!reader x mace morales

drowning, falling into you | chapter one | 2.0k In no shape or form did you see yourself in or wanting to go to Visions academy but you didn’t have much of a choice did you welcome the change with open arms? Hell no you happened to be angry at the world actually and you made sure to make it just about everyone’s problem

[sunflowerxthoughts]

lil idea/blurb? for the Freddie boy-

If theres a new kid at school he does a welcoming prank but this new kid he's kinda of scared of because they're really grungy punk, (think liberty spikes, died hair, dark makeup, bunch of patched holes) and because George/ Lee tried to do a prank on them but like they anticipated it and reversed it or something like that lol. and like over time he just kinda like sees what they're all about n stuff and starts to fall for them.

sorry its kinda long ish but i don't see a whole ton of punk rep in the wizzarding world community :/ Hope the rest of your day/night is good!

YES YES YES

Freddie is both scared and interested by you. He’s seen you around, George and Lee can’t shut up about you, and against what people might have thought, you are sorted into Ravenclaw.

He’s tried to think of a prank but none of them seem to be enough. Either too much or not good. But he is so enthralled by you. The way you mastered a spell to change the colors in your hair, the piercings, the boots you get constatly reprimanded for. It makes his mind go blank.

“Do I have something in my face?”

“Huh?”

“You are staring, …”

“Fred. Fred Weasley. I thought you knew me?”

“I do. I just wanted to humble you a little.”

Fred thought he had died and gone to heaven. A girl who matches his dark sense of humor.

“Go out me?”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Listen I uh, I really like your vibe thing you have going on and and I think we’ll really get on. Please?”

“Seven.”

“What?”

“Tomorrow. Pick me up at 7, Weasley. Don’t fuck it up.”

[lucigooseart]

matthew lillard & his legacy <3

-

a ray of sunshine and a constant inspiration.

[sukisprettyface]

should i make incorrect quotes for atsv

[fabled-fiction]

Hiiii!! Can I request a hobie brown x fem reader where the hobie swings by the readers room and just cuddles with her because he’s tired from patrol and the reader loves it because he only has a soft spot for her! And it’s just very fluffy!

Open Window (Hobie Brown x Reader)

Summary: Hobie didn't realize how strung out he was until a certain someone crosses his mind.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: MINOR SPIDERMAN ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS

A/N: I tried writing in a fem reader and then realized as I was writing I neglected that. I tried going back it but it felt forced, I hope this still suffices!

It felt like he never slept.

When could he afford too? It seemed like every step forward he took in taking down Osborn and his regime, they took three. Every running start he had they moved the finish line.

It was exhausting to be honest.

And now on top of his own problems on his earth, this stupid watch wouldn’t stop beeping with anomalies that needed taking down and tethering back to their Earths.

Hobie could feel the bags forming under his already painted ones.

His head had been reeling recently. Jumping back to his Earth after coming from the Spider Society was never easy no matter how much radioactivity was coursing through his hardened veins. He had a theory that despite having the wristband that helped him jump back and forth, he needed one for his head. The shift in perspective, and what could be perceived as art styles of the different Earths were making his vision hazy. 

Perching himself onto the top of a billboard, Hobie hit the side of his head with the edge of palm. Maybe if he hit his head hard enough or in the right spot he could knock the buzzing in his brain out long enough for him to make sense of where he was. 

On occasion it almost felt like he was back in that stupid spider tower, or another unfamiliar Earth.

Shaking his head, he took a glance about the neon lit streets of his Earth.

Wait, he recognized this street…no wait. No yea he recognized where this street lead to. 

Pulling the edge of his suit wristband back, he pulled up the time on his watch.

4:32:02am

Hobie knew exactly what he needed to rejuvenate, to put the rock back in his roll. 

Standing from his perch, he felt his bones begin to ache as they realized where they were about to be. Pulling his mask back over his head, he was about to flip when his watch started to buzz.

The holographic face of Gwen popped up.

“Hey! Hobie, Im glad I caught you. You got a seco-”

“Sorry Gwendy, can’t talk right now.”

“Wait! I n-”

He couldn't swing fast enough.

There was a warm purple light coming from your window, leaking through your curtains like a holy light.

He’d have to lecture you about leaving your window unlocked for anyone to crawl into later, it didn't matter that you were on the 14th story of your building. But as of right now, as he peeled your window open he saw it as a blessing as he tumbled head first into your room.

Hobie hadn’t realized how long it had been since he had seen you.His spider work had always been number one, taking down the rising regime of fascism in his city. Even the Spider society jobs have seen more of him than his own bed. It almost felt like he was more Spiderman than Hobie Brown, his heroism taking priority over everything else.

Well, almost everything else.

But now as he stumbled about, throwing his sneakers and guitar in the corner of your room the only thing on his mind was you. More specifically crawling into your bed that seemed to always be WAY more comfortable than his.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed you.

Hobie was so preoccupied with getting out of his Spidersuit that was growing increasingly more annoying by the second, he hadn’t even realized you were now leaning against your doorframe.

Sometimes you thought he played up these so called spider senses. There was no way he let you sneak up on him as many times as you have.

“Where..I know you ‘ave it somewhere in ‘ere.” He mumbled to himself, digging through your drawers with little regard to your neatly folded clothes there were already in there. 

Placing your cup of water on your nightstand, you perched on the edge of your bed and watched as your once clean-ish room transformed to match the thought process of the sleep deprived Spider in front of you.

You knew what he was looking for, Hobie had a tendency to leave shirts in your room whenever he stayed over. He said it was for convenience, it made it easier to switch from Spiderman to Hobie Brown. You couldn’t count the amount of times on your fingers when you had done laundry and realized nothing in the basket was yours. He almost had a full drawer in your dresser.

“Try the very bottom drawer.” You yawn, a few joints popping as you stretched out whatever you could stretch out.

Hobie turned his head to look at you for only a moment, and you hadnt even realized that he had discarded his mask somewhere into the clothed chaos that was hurricane Hobie.

Falling back onto your bed, you let out another big yawn as you made yourself situated. You could hear Hobie shuffling about your room, making himself more than at home as he slammed the window shut. A very loud click of your window lock followed by a thunk of a thwip made you chuckle.

“You seriously need to considah lockin’ your window. Could’a been an unsightly fella.” He muttered as he reached to fully close your curtains.

“Well I know who to call if I see one of these so called unsightly fellas.”

There was a grumble that came closer to your bed, and what you swore you was the gulping down of YOUR glass of water followed by the creak of your mattress.

It was like a second nature to the both of you even though you hadn’t physically seen eachother in what felt like months (in reality it was only a week but you too were too clingy to admit to each other it had felt longer). Molding into one another was easy for you too.

Hobie’s arm easily found its way over your waist, pulling you as close to him as he physically could. The minute he had his head resting on your chest he swore he could feel the color coming back to him. Feeling your hand run over his wicks, and eventually come to rest on the nape of his neck made him break into a hazy smile.

But then his stupid watch started buzzing. Didn’t he take it off?

He tried ignoring it for a moment, hoping whoever was calling him would get the message.

When you had started to pull away was when he had enough. 

Ripping the watch off his wrist, he threw it across the room and webbed it to a random wall. Before you could even protest that he had yet again left webbing that would take months to come off, he wrapped his arms around you and flipped around so that you were laying ontop of him. His arms basically locked around you, and solidified that you two would not be moving for the rest of the night.

He needed this, and he could tell based off the way that you melted into him that you needed this as well.

“Hobie shouldn’t you have answered that?”

He could deal with the consequences later, right now he was exactly where he needed to be.

“Nah.”

[claw-deen]

with a black cat variant s/o (genderneutral!reader):

miles would be like “no! stealing is wrong! 😤 but they look so cool while doing it tho 😩” his mind would be so confused, because yeah you're stealing, but only from rich people and he heard rumors about black cat helping people on the streets. one day he used his invisibility power to spy on you during one of your heist, he could have stopped you a hundred times that day, but he didn't. he might have developed the tiniest crush on you.

gwen thinks that you're the coolest person alive. yeah stealing is wrong, but she honestly doesn't care at all lol. as long as you're not hurting anyone you can rob as many rich people as you want she won't stop you. sometimes you meet on rooftops at night and often end up teaming up with her to defeat some bad guys, then you watch the sunrise together while chatting about your lives.

pavitr is suspicious of you at first, he understands that you're not a threat to the people he protects but he doesn't treat you like an ally either. he kept his distance from you until the day you saved his life; now he trusts you entirely and he likes to do his night shifts in your company. he knows you won't like it but he's very worried about you and your illegal activity, he'd rather have you doing vigilante work with him.

hobie is a big fan. he heard about you as someone who stole the rich to give to the poor and he was like “slay.” he's the one who came to you during one of your heists and asked you to team up with him. now you, pavitr and hobie want to rob museums to return all the stolen objects to their people. hobie admires you a lot, like gwen, he thinks you're the coolest person he ever met and coming from him, that means a lot.

GUYS I CAN ALREADY SEE THE ENEMIES TO LOVERS FICS COMING IN miguel wants to see you as nothing more than another enemy, he really wants to, but it's such a difficult task when you're helping people with the money of your robberies and you're looking so good while doing it too. he tried to stop you on multiple occasions, but every time he was about to put an end to your crimes something in his mind made him fail. for now you two will keep playing that cat and mouse game, well, cat and spider game, but one day you'll have to kiss him on the mouth, that'll calm him down.

[rintoshis-archived]

reupload

thinkin' about hobie's lip piercings against your cunt, his tongue piercing tickling your entrance, and the cold metal hitting your skin. the makeshift spiky belt restraint to hold your hands together while he eats you out on the couch:( his coarse hair just tickles your inner thighs while burying his head in your wet pussy.

he just won't stop, he's been at it for so long already. his spiky bracelets puncture your skin from holding your shaky thighs apart from closing. ''quit movin' this what you wanted, didn't cha?'' the vibrations of his lip only made your body quiver.

the way your eyes water for him didn't help the boner in his tight black pants. you had him thrusting against the couch for pleasure:( he might as well cum in his pants from your moans and whimpers u give him:(

[spidcrhunni]

sleepover

hobie brown/reader

summary: you let your boyfriend stay over for the night after he’s been away on patrols for a while.

tags: sleepovers, cuddles, fluff, sweet! hobie, sleepy! hobie, sharing a bed, reader knows he’s spider-punk btw, he’s so cute i want to bite him (affectionately), short fic!

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [spidcrhunni!!] ࿐ྂ

hobie yawns, his eyelids closing lazily; staying shut for a few seconds before finally opening again. “if you’re tired you can go to bed.” you tell him, scrolling through social media’s idly on your phone. “nah, i promised you i would stay up with you.” your boyfriend mumbles, trying to occupy himself with something on his own phone before getting bored and turning it off. “go to sleep, bart. you need it.” you let your spare hand rub his back. hobie presses his face to your collarbone. “wanna stay up with you. i haven’t seen you in ages.” hobie whines, voice vibrating against your shirt. “that’s because you’re a busy guy now, you have stuff to do; and i couldn’t be more proud. you don’t have to exhaust yourself. i’m fine like this.”

hobie frowns, letting his ear rest on your chest. “nah. i can stay up-“ a yawn cuts him off. “a while longer..” he finishes his sentence, you laugh softly. “go to sleep.” you tell him, ignoring how his hair tickled your neck and jaw. hobie groans in protest, yet can’t find any words to respond with as he yawns again. your hand slowly stops massaging his back, resting idly as you focus on your phone. eventually, hobie shuffles, moving from where he was lay on top of you to settle beside you instead; lanky arms curling around you. rolling over, you hug him back, letting him bury his face into your chest once more as well as use your arm as a pillow. “how’s your week been?” hobie asks, blinking lazily up at you. “good! i passed that chem test.” you respond, humouring his loving gaze with a small kiss to his forehead. “good. i knew you could do it.”

you hum softly, a smile on your lips. “how’s your week been?” you reply, listening as he groans. “boring..! nothin’s happening on patrols anymore. i want a thrill!” he sighs, arms squeezing you a bit tighter as he adds on a quick: “and i missed you.” you laugh softly, rubbing his back gently. “i missed you too.” you reply, putting your phone down. “m’glad.” hobie mutters, eyes finally closing as he struggles to keep them open due to his exhaustion. you chuckle. “goodnight, bart.” you tell him, gently kissing his lips. “night, babe.” he mumbles, voice quiet.

[averagemoxxiestan]

More punk!reader with Bill and Pete please

Sir yes sir!! (I LOVE TAKING REQUESTSSS‼️‼️)

HEADCANONS AND SMALL THINGS

I have this amazing headcanon where Pete loves anyone with an alternative style to the norm, I just think he’s that type of guy, and when he saw you with all your piercings, wild and brightly colored hair, and spikes, he immediately knew that he needed to befriend you.

Pete absolutely loves hanging out with you! He loves how erratic your personality is and your rules.. some of them.. (you know punk rules.)

Pete may or may not have gotten a bit obsessed with you and gain feelings, of course he has internalized homophobia (as they all do) and thinks everything is platonic because he’s not a fag and never will be (LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER)

Bill on the other hand! He doesn’t like you, you both were friends when you were younger but he hated that you didn’t play the way he wanted, so he broke your friendship off. But you don’t care, you will always bother him and tease him!

Pete wants Bill to let you join the club but Bill is stern about his decision and doesn’t let Punk!Reader in and Pete just thinks Bill is a little bitch.

You continuously flirt with Pete and he honestly sometimes flirts back but also makes fun of you for it but it doesn’t really bother you because you love expressing yourself (Punk Rule: Be yourself)

You and Bill made out before under some circumstances.

You put Pete in his place a lot when he says something you don’t agree with and that makes him question his own and his family’s moral views sometimes.

You don’t really care about Pete’s interest in gore, you sometimes join him in watching his snuff films but it doesn’t really do anything for you and both you and Pete judge the films

(Non-summer time) you and Bill have almost all classes together and you bother him any chance you get. Like taking a pencil and scribbling on his paper, you tipping Bill off of his chair, you smacking him across the head, and many more.

You and Bill got into a fight when you called him out on his bullshit and he got super pissed when he found a bite mark on his shoulder when he was back home

You are tall and Pete wants to climb you like a tree

Okay that’s all! Can’t really think of anything else

K bye :3

(Sorry I took so long, I was getting sidetracked a lot)

[x-blue-spring-x]

Reincarnated Sukuna who vowed to take a different path this time, but ended up falling into the bad boy vibe trap because it lures him like a moth to the flame. Suits him too.

Reincarnated Sukuna with his vibrant pink hair, symmetrical nose rings and vivid black tattoos, so utterly unafraid of standing out, but still hoping to find a place for himself all the same.

Reincarnated Sukuna who loves music above all else, plays it obnoxiously loudly through his headphones at every opportunity, plasters the walls of his apartment with his favourite album covers, ripped jeans and band tees that fit him like a glove.

Reincarnated Sukuna who isn’t necessarily the kind of man you want to introduce to your parents, coarse and dry humoured, acerbic wit accompanying his punk exterior. It would be enough to make your mother faint.

Reincarnated Sukuna who spends hours wandering around at night absorbing the city, watching the sun sink low between tower blocks while he craves the wide open spaces of the countryside.

Reincarnated Sukuna who feeds the birds on his fire escape every morning, finding pleasure in their sweet songs before the sound of traffic humming on the streets below him starts up. Who scowls at anyone who disturbs him.

Reincarnated Sukuna who makes friends with a stray tom cat, one with chunks missing from its ears and half a tail. Occasionally they can be seen moving through the streets together, Sukuna has even been known to offer the cat an earphone to listen to Slayer.

Reincarnated Sukuna who finds his feline friend injured one day, limping on a paw that looks painful, meowing loudly.

Reincarnated Sukuna who ends up in the vet office you work at, shooting you a devilish grin across the counter as he asks who your favourite band is.

Reincarnated Sukuna who, despite his tough exterior, thanks you for fixing up his kitty with a reasonably sweet smile.

Reincarnated Sukuna who rocks up at your door hours after closing time, insisting that he educates you on the very best of metal, black roses in one hand and the cat purring under one arm.

You don’t question the guy with red eyes about how he found your address.

[sillysowa]

As a big boob girlie you know I had to take y’all up on this offer!

TITTY LOVER HOBIE HCS!

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

Hobie cannot contain himself around your boobs…like he’s literally in love with them.

Always copping little squeezes when you’re naked around him, coming up behind you and cupping them with his large hands.

You honestly don’t even have to be nude, he will still come up behind you, kiss you on your neck and stay there while reaching his hands up under your shirt just to feel them.

He is all about the no bra’s movement—like constantly telling you how you don’t need one. If you wear them because they make you more comfortable than he can respect it but if you wear them and you don’t like wearing them, Hobie’s gonna be your #1 hype-man about going braless,

“Y’know what babe, I say free the nip. Tits ain’t never hurt anyone.” He quips in the doorway as you get ready, contemplating if your outfit would be better without a bra.

lf they get sore at any point in your cycle, Hobie is more than happy to help ease the pain with a little massage!

Thoroughly enjoys sleeping with his head under your shirt, trapped in between your boobs. He says,

‘It’s a crucial part of a good nights rest!’

If you have small boobs, Hobie loves massaging them. He adores how small they look in his hands and how sexy you look when you’re shirtless under him.

‘You have the prettiest tits i’ve ever seen love, just can’t get enough.’ He’d whisper while kissing all over your chest.

If you have big boobs, he loves seeing the way they bounce when you fuck. His eyes are just entirely transfixed on the way they move,

‘Fuck yeah, love. Love the way your tits move f’me baby.’ He’d groan while cupping your boobs and lightly slapping one.

Hobie never forgets your boobs during foreplay. He always takes his sweet time kissing and sucking them, creating patterns of hickeys in his wake. You will never have sex without Hobie showing love to your boobs, which he says are,

‘the best rack i’ve ever laid my eyes on.’

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara

[nectardaddy]

PUNK TACTICS . . .  ino takuma

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| “never felt better, write me love letters”

TEXTS between you and your roommate ino who you swear is a fucking loser. CWs: language, suggestive. notes: I think he'd listen to a mix of hip-hop and punk so don't come for me about some artists not being “punk” it's not that deep 

A/N: probably ooc but idc, part 2

[neo-nomatrix]

Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you

Hobie Brown x reader

word count: 969

find the mini series here

tags: @maxjesty @marshallowy @sh-tposter2021 @ilovebhna @ladyagagaslefttoe

synopsis: Hobie is still a slightly infuriating neighbor, but there’s something about that jacket and guitar that are all too familiar.

a/n: DRUNK CONFESSIONS!! Part two of this fic. I wasn’t going to write another part to it but i caved 😔

You stood him up. You fucking stood him up. Hobie spent the entire show looking out into the crowd, ignoring the blinding stage lights, to try and find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He asked so nicely too! Despite his nonchalant attitude it took him so long to build up the courage to ask you out. He had dinner reservations planned, which he has obviously never done, looked up places to get a Mr.Whippy and even found a small secluded area where he could play his guitar for you.

The worst part is how it made him feel. He genuinely liked you and it hurt him to think you didn’t feel the same when he thought you did. So what was his solution? Go out with his mates to a pub until 3 am to drink his feelings. Hobie was a bold drunk, bolder than he usually is. He’s also a sloppy drunk, tripping when he walks and slurring his speech like it’s all one word.

You’re peacefully sleeping in your bed with your spiderman eye mask cuddling with your Spider-Punk plushie. It’s not a random occurrence to hear Hobie stomping his boots late at night but it was different today. You heard his boot buckles dragging across the floor and a loud bang against your door. Not necessarily a knock, more of a body slumped against the wood.

“Love! You in there?!” You hear him yell.

You try your hardest to ignore him but as he keeps yelling and pounding against the wood you start to feel sorry for everyone else on your floor. You force yourself out of bed and towards the front door. As you reluctantly open it a drunken Hobie falls into your flat.

“Hobie get your arse up,” you roll your very tired eyes.

He surprisingly agrees and makes his way to your bed.

Great, you think

He tosses his guitar to your couch and gets into your bed like it’s his. Conveniently throwing the spider-punk plush off the bed. He cuddles up with your blanket and closes his eyes. You cannot let him fall asleep.

“Hobie! Hello? That is my bed. Get out!” You yell at him.

“Why’d you do it?” He whispers.

“What,” you ask, still annoyed.

“You stood me up. I asked you to come to my show and you didn’t. Why,” he asked less of a question and more of a statement.

You sigh, of course you knew that was tonight. In all honesty you don’t quite know why you didn’t go. You weren’t doing anything special and it probably would’ve been nice. But you were scared. Scared of what? You also didn’t know that, you just were.

“I… I don’t know,” you admit.

“Really hurt me, Love. I wanted to see you and take you out on a nice date,” he looked away from you.

Your heart shattered. You knew Hobie liked you but not to that extent. You thought he was just playing around with you and didn’t mean anything by it.

“I’m really sorry, Hobie. We should go out some other time, okay? My treat,” you promise.

“Nah, don’t think i’ll have the time,” He says, clearly less sad than he was a few moments ago.

“Oh yeah? Busy with what? Trying to tear down the government from the inside?” You laugh.

“Of course not, that’s for the first saturday of every month. I’ll be busy being Spiderman,” he says, cuddling closer to your blanket.

You stop immediately. Your mind goes blank, the world around you stops. You’re suddenly much more awake than you have ever been. Hobie is… no you can’t even say it. The man you’ve hated ever since you had moved in was the person you loved more than anything else? That can’t be right, he’s having a laugh. That’s gotta be it.

“I don’t believe in comedy,” you remember him saying.

Fuck. He’s not joking, is he?

“What?” you manage to get out.

“I’ll be busy, being spiderman and all. Yknow who that is right? Don’t know if you noticed but he’s- i mean I’m kinda all over your room,” he lets out a drunk giggle.

He pulls out his mask from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to you.

“See?”

You grab it in disbelief. You run your hand over the spandex in awe. Spiderman is right in front of you, you realize.

Oh. My. God. SPIDERMAN IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

You just can’t believe the man you’ve idolized for years was in your bed. YOUR BED.

Hobie takes the blanket off of him, lifting up his shirt to reveal his suit. Blue and fucking red material.

“I don’t believe in the labels though. It’s stupid,” He says in the most Hobie way possible.

“You’re a superhero,” you say, still a little shocked.

“No. No, don't say that. I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologising, narcissistic autocrat,” He says. God even drunk he’s still a smart ass.

“So you still wanna go out?” He asks.

“What? I just found out you’re fucking Spiderman and that’s what you’re asking me? If I want to go out with you?” You respond.

“I mean what else is there to say? I already know you love me,” he nods to the spiderman memorabilia.

Even in this state he still leaves you speechless.

“Well- yeah I guess. We can go out,” you say slowly.

“Cool,” he nods.

He lifts up the blanket and scoots over, inviting you into your bed with him. You roll your eyes and get in with him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.

“I knew you wanted to snog me from the start,” he laughs.

Hobie is still pretty infuriating, but that is slowly becoming one of your favorite things about him.