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eyesxxyou · 2 months

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Req: perverted Hobie who's so SHAMELESS he literally does not gaf. Ofc all of this is consensual but also he really has no fear in his heart

Bro steals panties/boxers/thongs out of the dirty laundry and fucking SNIFFS em, jerks off into it and really wraps it around his dick. He'll call you up too, telling you how much he misses you and how your underweae just can't compare :( you just know when he gives it back it'll be all stained even if it's your fav pair :(

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

❝ contents ❞ underwear sniffing, masturbation with underwear, phone sex

Hobie found it ridiculously easy to get into your basket of dirty clothes. His nimble fingers pulling shirts from jeans, clothing from clothing, until he found just exactly what he was looking for.

He didn't discriminate. Briefs would work just as fine as panties and thongs would, anything that contained your scent on it. He would hold the cloth in his hands, fingers pulling apart the waistband that usually kept it secured to your hips, and find the part that held your pussy.

He’d shove his nose into it and sniff, letting out a long, shaky breath in the wake of his perversion. He’d get rock hard in an instant, just the smell of his favorite boy’s delicious cunt was enough to do it.

Hobie would get into your bed and let himself be surrounded by your scent, puffing his face into the crotch of your underwear once more to get a hit of the sweat, the tanginess of your essence. He’d moan as he sniffed and palmed himself through his pants, hands working his cock from out of their restraints just enough to let it rest against his abdomen. It would smear precum across his naval, let it pool just below his pierced belly button, the jewelry getting wet in the process.

Hobie would take the underwear after sufficiently suffocating himself in your delectable musk and wrap it around his length with his cock head pressed into the crotch where it was still wet from your juices leaving out from your sopping cunt.

His eyes flutter as he strokes himself. The fabric rubbing his in just the right places to make his back arch from the pillows of your bed. His hand tries to replicate the way you stroke him in yours, the way your fingers trace beneath the tip, the way you squeeze with just the right amount of pressure. He can still smell you, taste you on his tongue.

Then he gets such a sick idea. He rummages through his pocket and grabs his phone, fumbling about with it in one hand while the other continued to press your underwear onto his member. He was quick to dial your number and hold the phone to his ear, counting off the rings with a flick of his skillful fingers.

You picked up the phone with an enthusiastic, “Hey, Hobes!” The thrum of your voice makes him shudder, hand gripping his cock tighter, stroking harder. So blissfully unaware of the way he smeared pre into the thin fabric of your underwear, soiled them, the sacred beauty of them.

“How’s ya day goin’, dove?”

You, innocent, tell him in detail the ups and downs of your day and he loves every second of it. You know not the way he preys upon you, your sweet nativity. Every word fueling his building tightness in his lower belly.

Hobie bit his bottom lip, humming soft affirmations to assure you he was listening. But with each one you were more sure he wasn't.

You knew about his perversion. It was no secret that he liked to steal your underwear and do sick things with them. Sometimes he liked to do them in front of you. He loved the thrill of you watching, loved the way you’d take your soiled underwear with his cum soaked and sitting on the crotch, and put them on. You were just as sick as him.

“Do you have my underwear?” You’d ask with an air of patience. Finally, Hobie would let out a guttural moan, body rolling with the beginnings of a climax. He pressed the pussy area of the cloth into his cock, pressing so hard he might just tear a hole through.

He’d unload his cum into the crotch with something of a strangled cry while you cooed in his ear, whispering about how dirty he was for taking your briefs.

“It doesn't compare to you, luv. Not even close.”

taglist: @hobs-kiss, @hoe-bie

#{eye's inbox}#{👁️ inbox}#🐘 anon #across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #spiderman #hobie brown #spider punk #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x ftm!reader #hobie brown x transmasc!reader #atsv hobie smut #spiderpunk x male!reader #spiderpunk fic #spiderpunk smut

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havensins · 11 months

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Sub Hobie Brown x Dom reader

one we’re fucking hobie dumb and his eyes roll in the back of his head with his tongue out coming so hard

hobie would normally be so full of smart remarks or quips, so it would be fun to see how you could tease or fuck him until he had no coherent thought left in his pretty little head.

the way i picture it, hobie would be on his back with you between his thighs and fucking him within an inch of his life. his legs would be crossed behind your back, clasping at the ankle and forcing you to get impossibly deeper. one arm would be draped over your shoulder while the other would be gripping the sheets.

“y-you’re- oh, oh! fuck! pleasepleaseplease!” he’d sob, breathing harshly as his cock wept pitifully on his stomach. his brain would turn into fuckin’ mush bc he’s so sensitive and you’re so deep.

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gatorbites-imagines · 10 months

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Hobie x deadpool reader or spider reader

Hobie Brown x Deadpool male reader

Headcanons

I love Deadpool, who doesn’t love Deadpool? I tried to think of what Deadpool would be like in Hobies’ earth, and I just feel like he would kinda just be the same as always, except maybe with a metal aesthetic. And any chance to work my favorite music into stuff? I’m taking it.

You were Deadpool, and had been Deadpool for a long time. In the beginning it had just been your musician and artist name. Much of your music was different types of metal, with lyrics focused on judging the system and pointing fingers at its corruption.

Of course, a lot of people hated your music, but there was also those who loved it. One of them being Hobie Brown. Even before he became spiderman, hed always been a very righteous person with strong opinions about corruption and capitalism, so finding an artist who shared his views was great.

That was until you got a little too popular and stepped on the wrong people’s toes with your music and art. When you started pointing fingers at Osborn and his wild corruption, those against you grew more and more violent.

And at one of your biggest concerts to date, one that offered all the proceeds to those in need, you were assassinated right on stage. Theories would go around saying it was Osborn wanting to get rid of you, and telling everyone what would happen if they crossed him.

Panic consumed the arena after you were shot right on stage, and in the panic your body was whisked away. Deadpool became an icon in the anarchist circle, as one of the first to stand up against suppression and never back down no matter what.

Time would pass, Hobie would become Spiderman, and he would fight people like Osborn, even killing the guy with his guitar in the end.

But even after killing Osborn, the world was still in disarray, meaning a lot of work had to be done. So, when someone who went by Deadpool started popping up in stories and rumors, it caught people’s attention.

It was assumed you were just a fan, who wanted to use the legendary name of Deadpool to spread your message, or maybe the honor the original Deadpool. That was until people met you though.

You had the same clothes, only now wearing a mask. Your boots, your jacket, your spikes, and patches, even your guitar, you had it all. And on closer inspection, true fans could see it was the real thing.

You were almost like a ghost of the past, stories would go around that you were the angered spirit of the musician Deadpool, having crawled out of hell to wreak havoc on the upper class and tear out the roots of capitalism.

Hobie would want to meet you of course, you were like his hero and biggest inspiration. The first time you two would meet would be during a fight of some sort, and you’d chuck your guitar across the battlefield to nail a corrupt cop in the head before they could get a lucky shot at Hobie.

After that you two became close like two peas in a pod. Hobie would never treat you like you were someone above him, even though he had admired you for years, because he doesn’t believe in treating celebrities like gods.

Soon Deadpool and Spiderman being spotted together was a common sight, and so was seeing spiderman swing around with Deadpool in his arms or hanging on his back like a koala.

You never really take off your mask in the beginning, but when you do Hobie learns why you keep it on. You have a large scar taking up part of your head where the bullet had blown your head apart all that time ago.

You had apparently always been a mutant with a light healing factor, which had kept you alive, but you had been whisked away from Osborn researchers who wanted to use your healing factor. But in the end, they’d simply boosted your powers and you became pretty much unkillable.

This leads to you taking most of the hits during battle, since you can easily take it, anything you lose will just grow back. That doesn’t stop Hobie from worrying though, because seeing someone get their arm sliced off is pretty extreme.

Your first kiss is something you’d only have with a version of Deadpool. Hobie would be carrying your head after it’s been sliced off, and you would be asking him for a kiss and blowing him kisses from where hes carrying your head.

Now, anyone normal wouldn’t do what Hobie does, but Hobie doesn’t like to fit the mold. So, he would lift your severed but still living head and kiss you on the lips. Cue a make out until your body stumbles over and you can get your head back on.

You two never actually put a label to what you are, because that’s not the type of person you two are. But you two are pretty much dating now. You move into an apartment together, and sleep in the same bed at night, and kiss whenever you want.

Spiderman and Deadpool pretty much become icons in your community, for standing up towards oppression, and also being two hot guys who hold concerts after fights.

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marksbear · 11 months

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would you ever write for Hobie Brown ( Spider-Punk)?? hes SO cool and no one write for him 😭

if you can’t that’s totally okay, but if you do, maybe just relationship hcs??

ty papa bear <33

Yes of course I’ll write for him! You said it yourself he’s so fucking cool! And his piercings are so cool.

HOBIE BROWN “SPIDERPUNK” X MALE READER

-Any time he gets an idea for a new piercings he will you you first and see would you like it on him.

-Plays the guitar for you all the time.

-When it’s just you two he’s very handsy and cuddly, but when it’s in public he’s the complete opposite. But he will stay kinda close to you for you can feel comfort.

-Not a big fan of pda.

-If you know he’s spiderpunk he’ll put his mask on you randomly and kiss where your lips are.

-Big fan of concert dates and arcade dates.

-You two will find stray cats and take them back home and nurse them until their healthy.

-Your parents were worried about you dating him, but they quickly accepted him and welcomed him.

-listening to music together sharing headphones all the time. Even at school.

-He’s very smart so he will help you study for a test or help you with homework. You don’t even know how he’s passing all of his classes because most of the time he skips them to be in yours.

-The other Spider-Man’s we’re shocked and confused that he didn’t have a Mj or Gwen. In fact he had a Y/n. And he kinda bragged about you.

-Watching and judging music videos.

-Your the only person who he let’s touch his face and guitar.

-Even though he’s very nonchalant, he gets jealous easily, but doesn’t show it until you two are in private.

-Before you two were dating he was surprised and suspicious that you were talking to him since a lot of people tends to avoid him.

-If you were the complete opposite of him he’ll love you even more. He doesn’t mind if your softer than him and that you like more brighter colors.

-He tends to paint his nails so he asks you can he paint yours.

-Likes the idea of having matching piercings or even matching clothes.

-His personality is like a cat while yours is a dog. Opposites but very good for one another.

THE END

#hobie brown #Hobie brown x male reader #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x male reader #spiderpunk #Marvel x male reader #marvel x reader #x male reader #male reader #the bear club

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yandere-kokeshi · 9 months

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Yandere Miguel and Hobie with a gn darling who's always sleepy

Warnings: yandere behavior

A/N: I'm the person who takes naps all the fucking time so I wanted to write these cuties. Hope you enjoy <33

Miguel O’Hara:

At first, Miguel would be really worried. Why do you sleep so much? Do you have a condition he’s not told about? Is it possible you’re sick? Though, when learning this is you, he calms down a bit and tries to make your sleeping patterns closer to his.

He’s sleep-deprived. Once coming home, smelling home, and finding your sleeping body waiting for him – he smiles, before taking off his clothes and getting in beside you, cuddling you close to his chest as he peppers your face with many kisses.

Miguel on one hand is happy you don’t seek out anyone’s attention, making his possessiveness more prominent; he can hold you as long as he’d like. But, on the other side, is worried and frustrated at how ‘lazy’ you are.

This usually results in him yelling at you. But, his anger isn’t directed at you, more so at your unhealthy sleeping patterns. With this said, he likely will wake you up before leaving the house – often bringing you to HQ to sleep in his arms or keep you awake by ordering you to do simple things.

He’s constantly looking for you. Looking under every nook and cranny to make sure you’re sleeping comfortably. And if he needs to, he’ll carry you in his arms while he works; something he wouldn’t appreciate, but isn’t going to deny if someone asks.

Will definitely carry a blanket around and always has a bottle of water (or tea!) for you to drink when waking up. He kisses your forehead, asking if you slept well.

Hobie Brown:

Isn’t bothered or worried. Rather neutral about it. Though, Hobie does find it endearing – rather cute that you'll fall asleep anywhere, especially on the floor.

He loves to watch your sleeping position, smiling to himself at how lucky he is. But, that doesn’t stop his mischievous acts. You’ll wake up with multiple drawings on your face, specifically a mustache.

Jokingly calls you his ‘sleeping beauty’, that is, until it actually becomes your name.

Uses your sleepiness to keep you home more. Want to watch a movie together? Within 20 minutes, you’re falling asleep on his shoulder and Hobie ‘accidentally’ texts your friends to cancel your meetup. When waking, you don’t remember it sending that text? Maybe you were too tired! His suggestion is to always sleep more, it wouldn’t hurt, right?

Will gladly carry you if he sees you wobbling or yawning too much. He loves to hold you, so getting to carry you in a bridal style or piggyback ride is really fun. Plus, he likes to see if you’ll wake up if he decides to swing around whilst holding you.

Not one to carry a blanket around, but will offer you his jacket. Teases you to not drool on it, but in reality, he doesn’t mind it.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months

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Could you do Hobie Brown x Male!Reader that’s a spider person with glasses? And Hobie has never seen him without glasses so they squabble over it for a bit until Hobie ultimately wins. Only to be absolutely ENAMORED once seeing him. Also they’re boyfriends! :D

‘For the last time no, you know as well as the next guy that I can’t see shit without my glasses.’ You told your boyfriend for what felt like the fifth time that day because for whatever reasoning he had, Hobie had been asking to see you without your glasses on for a while now, you didn’t understand why that was nor why it’d matter how you looked without your glasses. It defiantly didn’t make matters any better when you would confront him about it, only for Hobie to surf his shoulders followed with an ‘is it illegal to not see my pretty partner’s face?’ To which you responded with, ‘but you see my face all the time regardless of whether or not I’m wearing my glasses. So why now the sudden intrigue?’

‘It’ll only be for a quick sec pretty boy, it’s not like I’m asking you to throw them away for good.’ Hobie tried to convince you as he leaned himself against the doorway of your bedroom, arms folded over his chest and his feet crossed at the ankles, even within his own home Hobie always managed to look effortlessly cool. You couldn’t help but scoff, ‘yeah right, coming from the person who makes an constant effort in keeping my glasses case clamped shut with his webs.’ You crossed your arms over your chest as you stared Hobie down. ‘Then when I asked for his help, all he tells me is to ‘wait for the webbing to dissolve.’

‘Sounds like my kind of guy. You should introduce us sometime.’ Hobie said with a coy smile and you couldn’t help but smile, deciding to play along, as you walked up to him until you were more then face to face, ‘I’m pretty sure he’d only prove to be a bigger pain in my ass with his constant pestering for me to take my glasses off.’ You finished as you innocently toyed with the pins on his vest, making no attempt in looking at him directly in the eye; feeling all warm and giddy in your chest when Hobie’s hand fell past your line of sight before dipping under your chin, pushing it up ever so gently so that you were looking into his deep brown eyes that sparkled with adoration.

‘Maybe the reason as to why he keeps pretending I’d because he wants to admire your pretty eyes up close without having to do so through your lenses.’ He says softly as his hands them began to trail to either side of your glasses, ready to take them off, ‘but he wanted to ask for your permission first because he never wants to put you in positions where you don’t get a say in things,’ you internally melted at how sweet and compassionate your boyfriend was in regards of making sure you were alright with what he was planning on doing, despite the fact that he didn’t need to because you trust him wholeheartedly, but the fact that Hobie still went out of his way to ensure your comfortability over anything else made your love for your boyfriend grow over a million times more.

‘So may I remove your glasses pretty boy?’ He asked.

‘You don’t have to ask because for you, my answer will always be yes.’ You told him as you watched him gingerly remove your glasses before sweetly putting them away within his vest pocket. ‘There you are.’ Hobie whispered as his hands claimed their place on your cheeks, thumbs gently stroking where the nose pads of your glasses resided before dragging them just under your eyes, ‘my pretty, pretty boy…’ he trailed off as he got lost in the forever that he always saw in your eyes but never to this magnitude, it almost took Hobie’s breath away. ‘God you’re so pretty that the word has lost all meaning because it doesn’t quite describe you, not anymore.’

‘Then what word would you use instead.’ You inquired, loving the obvious effect you had over your boyfriend as he continued to look deeply into your eyes as though searching for your soul through them; The moment felt intimate as you both found yourselves swimming within the infinite depths of each others eyes as the pitter patter of rain could be heard in the distance, providing an somber but calming ambience between the two of you. ‘Ethereal, beautiful, gorgeous, handsome, I could call you anything and everything but but none of them would ever come close to truly describing how you look to me right now.’

It was moments like these where you wish you could hide away your face when you felt the heat build up within your cheeks, but with how Hobie was holding your face, it was almost as though he knew you were going to become flustered by him at some point and wanted a front row seat to it all. ‘Since when did Hobie Brown become all poetic.’ You asked, trying to come across as casually as you could possibly be but you knew Hobie was keenly observant -especially when it came to you and your tell tell signs- as a smirk grew across his face and a chuckle ripped from his throat. ‘Ever since the moment you got me hooked onto those eyes of yours.’ He tells you as he presses his forehead against yours and whispered against your lips, ‘ for you, my pretty boy with the prettiest eyes, had my stolen heart within the palm of your hand.’

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eternalfics · 3 months

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hobie brown as your boyfriend !!

a/n: so.. I’m back andd you guys are so obsessed with saiki (I blame writers for not writing him 😒) andd I just wanted to try something new yk?? ANYWAY I LOVE HOBIE BROWN FR FR 😍😍 oh yeah and it was my birthday yesterday so yk 😘

summary: basically the caption ❤️

he likes pda, but he won’t go crazy on it. after all, what if you don’t like pda that much? or maybe you don’t like physical touch that much. you have to know boundaries at times.

pavitr already saw it coming, you can’t tell me otherwise. he smelt the obvious love in the air 😘

speaking of pavitr, you and him are best buddies fr. he’s tells you all the gossip, rumours spread? he’s telling you. he saw a little kid throwing a tantrum in a shop? he’s telling you. of course hobies gotta know too.

he would let you paint his nails too, I hc that he paints them black. but he would let you paint them any colour! especially if your a pink type of person, colours don’t have genders.

you would join his sleepovers with gwen! of course if she’s comfortable about it.

if you are a spider person, you guys like to piss off miguel together. when I mean “you guys” it’s mostly hobie but sometimes you like to tease him too, hobie encourages you too since miguel mostly scares people by yelling at them 😨

he plays his guitar around you and asks you a lot about what’s your favourite song or do you like the tune that he’s playing right now. he’ll especially learn your favourite songs and play it to you just to see your happy expression!

speaking about his guitar, he wouldn’t really let you touch it like he dosen’t to anyone else in the first weeks. but however, in the first few months he’ll let you touch as much as you want he’ll be cautious if your clumsy though 🤨.

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hobiebrownbrowser · 9 months

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🔞 Hobie Brown x Submissive M!Reader🔞

Hobie had a thousand chances to call you his, when you had sex, when you would go out on a semi-date or something, But no, He decided to call you that annoying nickname.

'Princess' You couldn't get the name out of your head for the life of you, his sultry voice ringing in your thoughts every time he'd nip that small corner on your earlobe, or when he placed soft kisses along your neck.

He had a way with words that made you feel special, loved even, but he loved showing just as much as telling, Physical touch being an instant invitation once he'd had you to himself, His hands often roaming your body once you'd enter the door of your shared apartment.

"C'mon princess, lemme luv' u." You rolled your eyes, The muscles contracting in your jaw forming a smile. You could feel the cold brush of his lip piercing, Saliva getting caught in your throat as he planted a soft kiss on the nape of your neck.

You agreed, not trying to show just how eager you were for him. You felt his lips curl into a smirk, That single kiss becoming dozens once he'd found that sensitive spot on your neck.

He didn't care for the lights, sitting on the freshly cold bed that missed his presence, His fingertips pulling off his vest before placing his fingers on the rim of his tattered shirt, setting his focus on you.

You soon joined him, A shudder falling from your lips as his fingers pinched your sensitive buds, pulling off your pants with his one available hand.

You laid completely bare, feeling your dick throb as the cold air made a shiver crawl up your spine. You were already half-hard, your eagerness only growing once his boxers had dispersed from his body.

You held in your breath as his hands found their way towards your waist, his cold fingers caressing your thighs as he sets you on top of his lap. Your eyes lowered down towards his erection, A breath hitching from his throat once you took his cock into the palm of your hand.

His eyes shut closed, the slow movements of you hand catching every vein that was imprinted on his dick, your thumb rubbing his slit as he whispers your name.

"Your oozing already for me baby." A groan immersed from him, Your figure pushing past his legs as your mouth engulfed his cock down your throat. The vibrations of your moans making his hips buck upward, his hand immediately finding its way towards your cheek.

You'd taken his cock down your throat with such ease, Letting the tip of his cock repeatedly hit your uvula, devouring every inch of him. He buried his face into the pillows, the scent of his musk giving your brain a wake up call as you finally choked.

He abruptly pulled you off, A few strands of saliva separating from your lips, polishing his cock as you gasped for air, Your gaze not leaving his cock.

"Slow it' don' princess." You pushed his hand away, lounging on his leg. You took him back into your mouth, lapping up the pre-cum that was seeping from the very tip of his cock, edging him closer to ejaculation.

He got bored of the slow rhythm you progressed, His hands grasping on the sides of your hand before taking full control, telling you to focus on your breathing.

The heat that radiated from your mouth felt incredible, Earning a slight groan from him as the warmth in his lower region burns a coil within him.

"That's it, such a' gud boy, Fuck." He praised you with soothing words, Wiping away your strained cheeks as his cum seeps down your throat, your tongue brushing over that nerve system implanted on the base of his cock.

Your eyes fluttered closed, his cock pulsating with every lick you gave, you milked him dry, the bitter salty taste of his cum resting on the tip of your tongue as you swallows his seed.

He pushed you off him gently, A smirk plastered on his face even when he looked like a ruined mess. You gave him a smile, grabbing the lube from a nearby drawer and setting yourself onto his lap.

He took the small bottle from you, doing the honors of wanting to stretch your pretty little hole apart. You rolled your eyes, turning your body around until your back was facing him, resting your thighs on the sides of his knees.

His eyes focused on your hole that clenched around nothing, probing you with the tip of his finger in a teasing manner.

"Stop testing me." A hum left him as he coats his fingers with the clear substance, Your back arching slightly as you slowly felt him push a singular digit inside of you.

He firmly gripped your ass, pulling you back as he curled that same finger, adding a second, then a third as you slowly began to loosen up.

He lifted himself up on his knees, The pace of his fingers fastening with every sound that left your throat, wanting to hear more of those gorgeous sounds you made.

"Fuckin' hurry up." You could feel his eyes melting into the back of your skull, Your knuckles turning white as you grip tightly onto the bedsheets below you. You could feel your orgasm growing near, Your legs locked in place as he ushers you to cum.

It didn't take long for your orgasm to rise from the deepest pit in your abdomen, his curled fingertips hitting directly on your prostate, abusing that known spot inside of you until you could feel your legs turn into jello.

His fingers redeemed too much to handle, The squelching sound of the lube that resided inside of you becoming your breaking point, Your cum soaking the bed as it leaks out from the tip of your cock.

You staggered to catch a single breath, A moan cutting your thoughts short as he probed your anal with the tip of his dick, pushing himself inside of you until you'd forgotten how to breathe properly.

The feeling of his throbbing cock shot waves of pleasure through every part of your spine, Your words getting lost in the void as he snapped his hips forward, A firm hand resting on your back bone.

"That's it princess, t' all of me, just like dat." You couldn't protest, The rhythm you'd set being the embodiment of perfection as his cock hits all the right places, your mouth practically drooling as your tight walls contracted around him.

"Look up f' me baby." Your eyes obeyed his command, Seeing just how fucked out of it you were in the mirror that rested in front of you. Your eyes enrolled to the back of your head once he'd found that sweet spot you irked for him to reach.

The volume of your moans escalated, Your ass high in the sky as your upper half finally had given out on you, the sound of his hips slapping against the bare meat of your ass echoed in the room, His name doing the same thing as you sheepishly told him to go faster.

No shame could bypass the pleasure of his cock stretching you, His hand grasping onto your hips with a sweetened pace set, Occasionally going rougher if you'd begged without him asking.

It was torture how he had full control of your actions, snapping you back harshly just to give the slowest thrusts seconds later, always making sure to hit that sensitive spot within you.

Your bottom lip curled, your teeth sinking into the soft skin as you fluttered your eyes closed, A harsh smack emitting from your redden cheeks bringing you back from that heavenly state that called to you.

Your mouth hung wide as he leaned his body backwards, Your ass perfectly lined up with his pelvis, your tight hole engulfing his cock as if you were a filthy bitch in heat.

"Hobie!" He reassured you that you could take all of him, his words being abundant with pleasure as he grinds his hips, watching you squirm below him as his ballsack makes contact with your flushed ass.

You clenched around him, Your chest pressed up against the bed as he puts pressure onto your shoulder blades, locking your legs between his as he spreads them wider.

"Take a' deep breath f' me princess." You tiredly nod, A muffled scream interrupting every focus you had as he roughly ruts into you, the bed feeling as if it would break at any given moment from the way he plunged his cock deep into you.

His heavy breathing was making you see stars, A disgruntled sound replaying in your head as you feel his semen coat your insides, A second orgasm traversing through you as his thrusts became sloppy.

His movements came to a halt as you both stayed connected for a few minutes, the warmth of his own cum threatening to spill out. A hum caught your ears, Overstimulation building within you as he stands on his knees once again.

"Fuckin' ell baby." You could feel his seed oozing out of you, Your gaping hole being presented to him as he slowly pulls out, laying you softly down on the edge of the bed, too tired to even move away from you.

He caressed your plump ass, tracing the red that painted them until the silence in the room became overbearing.

"I'm up f' anotha' round."

Commission completed! ← Click here to see the commission!

Okay so, this is my very first Male reader on here and idk if I did good, so while I have a mental crisis, imma take my ass back to bed-

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ghxstmxchine · 2 months

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fem-aligned pls dni!!

✧.* Hobie loves makeup

He wears it whenever he wants, onstage and off, just loving how the thick layer of eyeliner looks around his heterochromic eyes and soft sheen of lipstick on his lips, shimmering under the lowlights and making them look all the more enticing

His fingers are constantly smudged with his eyeshadow as he packs it around his eye with careful precision despite never using brushes, leaving little fingerprints on your wrists and hips as he pulls you close, drawling sweetly to you "ain't ya gonna call me pretty, luv?", a dark smirk on his lips, the same dark shade as the ripest cherry

Eyeliner is his favorite, whether it's a rough ring drawn around his eye or the sharpest wing he could manage, accompanied by mascara on his heavy lashes. He likes how it makes him look, even more how it runs down his face, dark and messy streaks streaming down his cheeks as he kneels in front of you, cock stretching his pretty little mouth open

Those fingers stained with makeup digging into your thighs and hipbone, leaving behind faded dark marks as he holds on, tugging your hips forward to slide your cock deeper into his tight throat, gagging lightly as more tears spill over, dragging lines of mascara down his face

He loves the way his lipstick stains your skin, rubbing off as a messy ring around your cock as he bobs his head on your length, practically choking himself on you to slide your cock past the messy benchmark he'd made for himself. He digs his nimble fingers into your plush ass, your cock sliding further down his throat till he's kissing your pelvis, smearing black lipstick on your skin as his throat flutters around your cock And when your orgasm is quickly approaching he pulls off, thick strings of saliva connecting between his shiny lips and your cock covered in his spit, fist frantically stroking you to drive you over the edge. You cum on his face, milky white drops smearing alongside his makeup stained cheeks and Hobie reaches up, swiping a finger through your mess and smudging black lipstick down his chin before smiling up at you and sliding the cum coated finger in his mouth

He looks even prettier like this

#atsv x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk #spiderpunk x reader #hobie brown x male reader

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jokersaciid · 11 months

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hii, i was wondering if you write for Hobie Brown (spider-punk!!)? if you do, maybe just relationship hcs??

if not that totally okay!!

Spider-Punk Headcanons.

hobie brown x black!male reader.

warnings : swearing ,, mentions of fighting ,, horrible british slang bc im not british<3.

since he's quite rebellious ( and spiderman ) he definitely takes you to underground illegal concerts of his own as he knows he can protect you from danger.

tries to teach you how to play guitar whenever he can,, you're definitely no good at it but you enjoy his enthusiasm.

everyday you see him you're placing new pins on his jacket or stickers on his sneakers.

he wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of someone who tried to mess with you,, especially in a crowd of people.

has pretty foul language,, however tries his best to tone it down once he realized you didn't enjoy it.

" what a fucking wanker he is. "

" hobie.. "

" right, right.. i'm sorry, toots. he just really pis— upsets me. "

always stands up for you and you do the same.

the moment someone calls him names or berates his actions you're immediately there defending his name while he watches you with adoration and pride.

people call him a bit wacky,, and he is— but he's yours and that's all you care about.

he doesn't mind letting you wear the pants in the relationship if you desire.

probably holds your hand when he having a sweet moment, however when he's rambling,, walking down the street or escorting you to school or work,, his arm is wrapped around your shoulders.

keeps you significantly close to him subconsciously.

if you're not british he tries to copy your accent the best he can.

you in turn copy his accent as well,, it's easier than you thought.

he visits you at home in extra ways,, never knocking on your front door but swinging outside your window until you notice.

kisses you upside down every chance he gets.

allows you to wear his suit sometimes but never lets you wash it.

" your drier is stupid, it'll shrink my suit and i can't fight when my bollocks are being squeezed all to hell. "

since you're both black,, he's very helpful when it comes to wash day.

no matter your hair type,, hobie always has a way to detangle your hair in the most non painful way ever.

he doesn't exact do retwists but he does allow you to help him maintain his hair and keep his wicks (??) healthy.

haircare within its self is a date between you two.

is always nagging you about using cantu because he saw you pick it up one time at a hair shop.

almost had a heart attack when he learned you didn't know how to do your own hair.

from then on he's swung by every two weeks to help you maintain whatever hair style you got that month.

to conclude- he loves you very much and would probably become a villain if he lost you :D

#hobie brown #spiderpunk x male reader #x male reader #male reader #spiderpunk headcanons #x m!reader #spiderverse x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman #spiderverse #x black reader #x black male reader #nate writes (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

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frankieburieshisdead · 11 months

Text

✮ Hobie Brown x male!ballerina reader ✮

You and Hobie started going out about 6 months ago. You met at a black-empowerment student group on your campus years before you had started seeing each other, and you remembered him starkly because he was the only person in the room who had brought up any kind of black queer issue, to which he was quickly shut down. He never returned to the group, and you always thought he was so much cooler than you for that. Being the only dark face in a line of pinky white dancers every day meant that you couldn't give up the small community of black people you had amongst the students. Even if it meant nodding along with arguments like 'gay black folks give us a bad name.' Hobie would never do that. Hobie would have said something. Its part of the reason he swore to never return to organized liberation movements. "If the movement cant be translated to a mentality, its not worth your time my love," he had told you, and you had just smiled, because you knew you would never be as brave and he was. It was one of the reasons you fell in love with him.

He brought you flowers on your first date. They were haphazardly picked and thrown about, clearly hand picked from someones garden he had pilchered, wrapped in an old newspaper. You loved them more than anything anyone had ever given you. You still kept them pressed in between a stack of books you kept at your hostel.

He came to every single one of your shows. Even the ones he couldn't afford, at fancy recital halls that made you feel out of place, he would find a way to sneak into the audience. One time, he even managed to get a job as a lighting guy a month before your biggest performance of the year so that he would be there. You still tease him about it.

The first time you went to one of his shows, you stuck out like a sore thumb. It was right after rehearsals, so you were still in your pink leotard and sheer brown leggings. Angry boys with spiked clothing kept on bumping up around you as the crowd bobbed up and down with the loud music. You couldn't find Hobie anywhere, and you didn't know why you did what you did, but when a particularly hard shove landed you on your hands and knees, scraped up from the grain of the cement floor, you called out for your boyfriend. "Hobie!" You shouted, almost certain he wouldn't hear as the crowd around you swallowed up the noise. Only he did hear, and not a moment later he was behind you, wrapping his long lanky arms around your waist as he pulled you back onto your feet. "You alright sweetheart?" He whispered just loud enough for you to hear. "Just got a bit overwhelmed. Sorry Hobes." You replied. He shook his head fondly at you, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. "Come with me?"

You spent the rest of the concert in the sound box above the stage, wrapped up in Hobie's big flannel jacket as you cheered on the lovely man you were beginning to fall in love with.

When he told you about the mask, about his other life as a webslining vigilante, you found that you weren't even surprised. Of course, your anti-cop, pro-punk politics boyfriend was Spiderman. It was the first time you had seen him look nervous, so you took his face in your hands and pressed his forehead agaisnt your own. "You're the bravest person I know. I am so proud of you," you whisper against his lips. And then, because it had to be said "don't you ever let yourself get hurt." He kissed you gently and promised.

He broke that promise less than a week later. You were warming up in your room before your first class, far earlier than anyone else was awake, which was why the loud banging on your door startled you so much. Never in a million years did you expect a bloody and battered Hobie Brown to fall into your room. He wouldn't let you call the police. Wouldn't even let you call an ambulance. You would never forget the rasping noise he made as he lay on your floor, blood soaking through your carpet.

You didn't speak to him for weeks after it happened. You were able to bribe some of the medical students from the STEM section of the campus to stitch up your clumsy boyfriend who had fell down the stairs. Apparently, it wasn't even that deep of a wound, just happened to nick a part of the body that blead a lot or something like that. You still woke up shaking when you thought about it.

Hobie does everything to get you to forgive him. He leaves flowers inside your ballet locker everyday, steals new lace for your shoes from the silk shop he knows you lone but can never afford. He apologizes again and again, but you can't look at him without seeing the gasping expression on his face as you thought you were watching him die. It's not until he does the one thing you thought he would never do, the one place where Hobie Brown swore he would never show his face again.

He was at the next black empowerment meeting you attended. You couldn't help the visible shock fall onto your face. "Just for the record, I don't like it here." He stated plain and clear before the meeting had even started. "I think you lot are a bunch of bootlicking, regressive posers who wouldn't know what respectability politics looked if they smacked you in the face." Hobie brought his gaze to his shoes, black locs falling over his eyes. "But I fucked up. I really scared someone I care about, and I dont know how to make it right. He's one of the bravest people I know, and I am so lucky that in some capacity, he chose me." Hobie looked up, directly at you now, "I love you sweetheart. I'm sorry, I should have never put you in that position. Let me make it up to you. However I can baby, let me make it up to you."

You stopped going to meetings. Hobie introduced you to a group of black ballet dancers who he had met when a theater had accidentally double booked his band, and suddenly your community was started to look a lot bigger than the arts campus. He promised you that he would always go to the hospital when he was hurt like that, even if it meant supporting a system of bourgeois control over public health that contributed to the futile distribution of wealth under capitalism. You didn't quite catch that last part. He kept his promise. He made it up to you.

END

#hobie brown #spider punk #hobie brown x oc #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk x reader #hobie brown x y/n #fanfic #hobie brown x male reader #sfw little post #drabble

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eyesxxyou · 1 month

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❝ sunshine pt.2 ❞ (hobie brown x male!reader)

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. hobie x male!reader. reader pretends to hate dislike hobie. gay longing. denial of feelings. a little internalized homophobia. leg humping. handjob thru underwear. lots of kissing. hobie being a lil shut. weeks of avoiding hobie become moot when you and him find yourselves alone in a bathroom together.

wc: 3.6k

You wish you hated Hobie Brown.

It would be so easy, wouldn't it? He kissed you, did unspeakable things to you in that closet. And you let him. You enjoyed even, you relished in the way his mouth felt, his lithe fingers sinking into your flesh. the way he cooed in your ear. It would be easy to write him off completely, hate him for the rest of your life, his smug face, his hooded eyes that gaze into yours and hold secrets only known between you, him, and God.

But you don't hate him. You can't. You hate yourself more than anything. You should have never indulged him, never let him put a single finger on you. Because now, when you lie in bed at night and close your eyes, all you can see is him on his knees, feel your cock sliding down the pocket of his throat while he looks up at you through his lashes with those dark eyes of his. You can't get it up any other way. Women don't do it for you anymore.

The moment the two of you left the closet you told everyone to leave. You picked up Hobie’s clothes and shoved them into his arms before sending him out the door with the rest of them. You never once looked him in the eye.

Your friends asked Hobie what had happened inside the hour you spent together and Hobie, being quite the convincing liar, simply shrugged as if he had no idea what had set you off. “Nothin’. Think ‘e migh’ be claustrophobic.” But he knew. You both would always know, no matter how hard you attempted to scrub it from your mind. He’d keep it a secret if you did. He might start shit from time to time but he wasn’t into outing people. He’d keep the secret for you if you didn't want it.

You know better. You know yourself. If you were alone with him, something like that would happen again and you wouldn't know what to do with yourself.

So you avoided Hobie like the plague after that night. Every invitation to hang out was promptly turned down with an excuse that was only a thinly veiled lie, obvious to no one except for Hobie who knew better than to accept that you were sick 3 weeks in a row.

It was understandable. He had made you question everything you had known about yourself all within a matter of an hour. Why would you want to be around him? You feared him and everything he symbolized to you.

“It’s Hobie, isn't it?” Your friend, Riri, sighed. She had come in person to get you out of the house. There was no pretending to be sick, no feigning exhaustion. She came and she called you out so accurately you feared that Hobie might have told her what had happened in the closet. Your chest squeezed and you lost your breath, terrified that she may know.

You scoffed, anxiety swelling within your chest as you pretend to roll the question off your shoulders. “Hobie? Why would I care about Hobie?”

“Everyone knows you can't stand him. And you haven't been the same since we stuck y’all in the closet. Did he say somethin’ to you?” You looked into her eyes for any semblance of your secret and found nothing. You wished you could tell her, your shame, your pleasure, the absolute heaven you felt being in that closet with Hobie. You’d just embarrass yourself.

“No, that's ridiculous. I find him just as endlessly irritating as I always have.” You reach up, tug at your hair softly, and shift your gaze. You were telling on yourself. Fuck, if you didn't agree now, she’d definitely know that there was something up with you and Hobie. “I’ll go, it’s whatever. Just let me get ready.” Your voice was quick, snappy, you were definitely acting suspicious. But you hoped you conceding to going would distract her enough to forget.

It did. Your friends weren't the most aware bunch.

That's how you ended up here, standing in the midst of a true punk party. There was a mosh pit in the front, people inches away from getting punched in the face, starting an all-out brawl. Most were drunk or high off shitty beer and even shittier drugs.

Hobie was on stage performing. You heard his voice before you saw him, the way it echoed in your ears and left you delirious. Riri dragged you into the crowd, just far away from the mosh pit to not get trampled over, and you saw him. His dark skin glistening in a thin layer of sweat, fingers meticulously strumming at his guitar, lips pressed against the mesh of the microphone as if he were attempting to kiss it like he kissed you.

He wore a plaid skirt, his muscle shirt was just cropped enough to reveal the scant of his abdomen and the hair on his slender naval. You saw him and all you could think about was how you wanted to touch him. You wanted his black-painted lips on your neck, wanted to bury your fingers in the new growth of his hair, wanted your cock in his mouth once again and maybe to put his in yours.

The thoughts terrified you but what frightened you even more was that when you came to, Hobie was looking at you. Smug, careless, beautiful, like he knew just what you were thinking about and he was thinking the very same thing.

Face hot and embarrassed over being caught, you averted your gaze. You turned on your heels and swiftly left Riri to make your way to the bar. You needed a drink, or five, so that maybe your nausea could be attributed to something worthwhile. But no matter how far from the stage you found yourself, Hobie’s voice was still in your ear, teasing your senses, tempting your body. You felt hot and parched.

“Give me the strongest you have.” You asked the bartender and pressed your face into your hands.

Hobie played three of his songs before his time was over, the entire time you watched from the corner of your eye. Watched the way he swayed, jumped, wrecked the stage, a force to be reckoned with. You watched him and his bandmates, your friends, walk backstage and felt relief. You wouldn’t have to hear his voice everywhere you went. You hadn’t considered that meant that they would all gravitate over to you to have a chat over where you’ve been for nearly a month now.

They came over with Riri, the unknowing traitor, Hobie standing taller than everyone else in the back. They hugged you one by one, slapped your back, kissed your cheeks, told you they were happy you finally agreed to hang. You would have loved to see them if Hobie hadn’t tossed his arm over your shoulder and pulled you into him.

He smelled like musk and faint, fragrant cologne, your nose pressed to the side of his chest. You look up from where you sat on your barstool only to find him already smiling broadly down at you. “Well, well, look who decided to grace us with they presence. Miss me, sunshine?” He was so smug, so proud. If only you could kiss that look from his stupid face and leave him breathless for once instead of the other way around.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him, shrugging his arm from your shoulders. “Don’t get so full of yourself.” You downed the rest of your drink and requested another one. Hobie came, sat on the stool beside you, and told the barkeep to add all your drinks to his tab.

“Ya been avoidin’ me, sunshine?” Hobie only really seemed interested in talking to you. The others chatted aimlessly amongst themselves. They didn’t seem to notice the way Hobie’s eyes glazed over you, the way his smile seemed a little different when it was directed at you. They also didn’t notice the way he placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing soft circles into your flesh, the way his digits fingered the rips at your jeans.

“Whyever would I be avoiding you, Hobie?” You grabbed his hand to stop his gentle assault on your thigh and he took the opportunity to lace his fingers in with yours.

“I don’ know. Why are you avoidin’ me?” His hand was hot and rough with callouses. If only he’d touch you a little more. Slide his hand up your arm, brush over your neck. You could feel your body growing warmer by the moment. You couldn’t be trusted with him, couldn’t trust yourself for that matter.

You tore your hand from his. “You know exactly why. I hate it when people play dumb.”

“Jus’ add i’ to the long list of all the reasons ya hate me.”

Oh, if only it were so easy to hate. You’d hate him till the day he died. You’d hate him beyond the grave. You’d hate him until the world combusted into flames and everyone burned with it. But it wasn’t so easy. It was actually quite hard to hate someone you longed so carnally for. If you could rid yourself of him for good, you would in a heartbeat.

Hobie ordered himself a nice large glass of beer and leaned in. “Was i’ so bad, what we did? Ya seemed to enjoy i’ in the moment.”

Your eyes grew wide, glancing about to ensure your friends hadn’t heard him.

Hobie scoffed. “Please, too loud in here. They all wrapped up in ‘emselves to pay attention t’us. Look here, sunshine.” He reached out and gently grasped your chin to make you look at him. His touch was like fire all throughout your body. Looking him in the eyes lit something in the pit of your stomach. "Ya look good t'nigh'."

His drink came and he took a sip of the froth at the top while looking at you, his gaze all affectionate and tender. The way one lover would look at another. He didn’t even have to touch you to get you riled up because you both knew him looking at you through his lashes like that was just the way he looked at you when he kissed the tip of your cock.

You needed air. It was suddenly so stuffy where you were, you felt like you were suffocating. The ache of your cock made your jeans tighten. You felt nauseous.

You must have looked crazy standing so abruptly. Your friends attempted to call your name as you pushed your way through them and searched wildly for the nearest exit. The best you could find was a bathroom sign. That would have to work.

The bathroom was grimy and covered in graffiti. Your boots suck to the floor when you walked and you’re sure you could see a leftover powdery substance on the side of the sink. You turned on the water and cupped your hands beneath it to gather some and splash it on your face.

Nothing between you and Hobie had to change. If he would simply stop provoking you, you could ignore everything else. The way your eyes lingered on his exposed body, the way his lingered on yours, the memory of your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking till he came on your tummy, the way you came in his mouth and he drank it all up.

You pressed your hand against the bulge in your jeans and moaned softly at the pressure. Then there was a knock at the door, startling you out of your momentary pleasure and reminding you that you were indeed in a public restroom.

“Oi, sunshine! Ya alrigh”?” Hobie. He just simply couldn’t let you have a moment of reprieve. Readjusting yourself in your pants so it's not so noticeable, you opened the door only to be met with Hobie leaning against the frame. He looked at you, questioning, before inviting himself right in. “Le’s talk.”

“Talk? You wanna talk?” You slammed the door shut and locked the door behind the two of you out of instinct. “We have nothing to talk about, Hobie. Absolutely nothing.” Your demeanor was cold, your lip curled. It all belied how much you needed him to stop looking at you that way. With heavy eyes and a touch of a smirk on his lips.

Hobie quirked a pierced brow at you. “Who’s playin’ dumb now? Ya tink I ‘aven’t noticed how you’ve been actin’? Yer meaner than usual.” He approached you. Slowly. He looked at you, watched to stand your ground. “God, yer down bad, aren’cha?”

Your face was hot, cock hard in your pants. You said not a word. Let him get close, really close, leaning into you while staring into your eyes.

“It's okay, though. I like ya mean.”

You grabbed him by the shirt, hands tight in the fabric as you turned him around and pushed him against the wall. “You think this is fucking funny, huh?” You shook him a little, pressed his thin body to the door, your eyes aflame with passion and anger. Hobie just looked at you, smiling, with his hands up as if to surrender to you, his eyes heavy with seduction.

You hated that look, so cocky and proud, fucking gorgeous.

You were rough when you kissed him. You knew you couldn't be trusted with yourself or with him. You knew it would all lead to this. And God if it didn't feel good. His lips were so soft, sweet, a little salty from his sweat. You held his shirt a little tighter, pulled him a little closer and his hands settled on your hips.

You let him slide his tongue into your mouth, let him slide his hands up and down the length of your body, slide beneath your shirt. His thumbs looked into your pants and tucked his knee between your legs to press against the growing bulge in your pants.

Just like that, he took control of you. You melted into him, licked into his mouth as you moaned, rutting yourself against his knee. You were desperate, panting, needy. You showed all your cards just as they were dealt and now you had nothing but an empty hand and a hard cock.

“I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout'cha.” Hobie panted into your mouth, hands pawing at you. Your kiss was sloppy, filled with swapped saliva and sticky tongue. “Missed ya. Looks like ya missed me too.” He chuckled softly as you licked his bottom lip, sighing with pleasure when he pressed his knee harder into you.

You should stop this. You should be stopping yourself. But you simply couldn't control yourself and you didn't know if that said more about you or about him. You were insatiable. You were angry. You were horny out of your mind.

Hobie let you suck on his lip and tongue, chuckling the whole time. It made you stop, your hands tightening up in his shirt. “Is something funny?” You pushed him against the wall harder, your body pressed against his, your aching cock against his knee. You tried to play tough, your face firming up, but Hobie already witnessed how desperately you've been wanting him this entire time.

Hobie sighed softly, looking at you, smiling broadly. “Nah, nah, ‘m laughin’ ‘cause ya definitely like me, sunshine. Just as much as I like you.” He leaned in, pressed his lips to yours, and kissed you softly. Lips latching, tongue licking, teeth nipping, you didn't resist him as much as you thought you would. You hadn't imagined for it to feel so good the second time around.

“Lemme help ya out, sunshine.” Hobie pressed his knee harder into your crotch and you crumbled, panting into his mouth with your eyes squeezed shut. One of your hands unballed itself from his shirt and found itself settled against the apple of his throat, pressing and squeezing while you humped his leg into oblivion.

The friction was delicious. The pressing and grinding with his tongue down your throat left you a little delirious. You were lightheaded and feared you might faint if he kept holding your waist like he was, moving your hips for you, pressing you harder.

“Keep goin’, pretty boy. Ya got i'.” Hobie crooned into your mouth as your lips fiended for another kiss, a lick, something, anything to satiate the burning in your chest, the fire all over. His fingers sunk into the meat of your thighs with his soft grip that meant to gently coax you towards your climax.

How embarrassing. To cum in your jeans just from humping a leg. But God, if this didn't feel good, if Hobie wasn't doing you so right. You pushed him harder against the wall, squeezed his throat a little tighter as you ground yourself into him.

Your free hand slid down his front and beneath his skirt to feel the bulge of his erection through his underwear. You weighed him in the palm of your hand, clumsy massaging and fondling. You didn't know how to handle him. Attempting to conjure up the way you touched him the last time you two felt each other, you rubbed him, felt the wet patch where precum leaked and soaked into the fabric of his underwear and stroked his tip.

Hobie shuddered, one that rattled through his entire body. He gripped you harder, bruising your hips and thighs and he drove you further into his knee and left you shivering. You squeezed him in your palm and he moaned.

It was pathetic how easy it was to forget how much you wanted to hate him. Your brain was foggy with pleasure and need. Your hands groped at each other with a fiendish desire. Hobie nipped at your bottom lip. “Fuck, jus’ like tha’.”

You were so close. Your lips broke apart from his with a string of saliva connecting the two of you. Your head felt back, exposing the supple flesh of your throat which Hobie greedily attacked with lips and teeth and tongue. “Gonna cum f’me? Hmm, sunshine? Go ‘head ‘n make a mess f’me.”

You whined, your body rocking back and forth with the waves of your orgasm. You hadn't cum in your pants since you were a teen and never before because of another man. You felt as though you should be humiliated but you were so wrapped up in Hobie's sweet scent and the way he moaned into your neck as you pressed your hand into him and felt his cock twitch in your hold.

You rubbed him harder, faster, determined to get him to come undone the way he had your world falling apart. Hobie chuckled against your throat. “Tryna get me t’cum, pretty boy?” His lips peppered kisses to your lovely throat. You nodded, your hand stroking his throat with your thumb. “Give it to me, please.” Oh how the mighty fall.

Hobie faltered a bit when you squeezed his balls in your hand, whining into you like a puppy. “Beg.” He sighed softly against your neck. “Beg fo i'.”

"Please, please. Shit, Hobie, give it to me " Overstimulated, his knee still pressed into the wet spot in your sticky jeans, your hips still rutting into the mess you’ve made of yourself, you jerked him off through his underwear, stroking it rapid, blundering twists of your wrist. Hobie liked how inexperienced you seemed, he found it amusing how hard you tried to please him.

You knew he was just on the edge of an orgasm by the way his moan lowered an octave. He sang for you like he sang on stage, your own private show. His hands gripped you with an impossible strength, tongue lavishing over your throat. He nosed at the curve of your jaw and moaned into your ear as he came in your hand, leaking out into the cotton of his underwear.

You were left panting, stroking at each other in tender touches. You were uncharacteristically affectionate, desperate for it. You needed his hands, his lips, his soft chuckles, his pretty smile. God, you were losing it.

“Fuck-” You pulled away from Hobie, your entire body coiling away from him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” It all came back to you like a tsunami. How did you let this happen? Again no less. What in the world were you thinking? What the hell has he done to you?

“Sunshine, calm down. It's okay.” Hobie reached out for you but you almost fell over trying to get away from him. Your hands gripped the sink for stability and in hopes to ground yourself in reality. “No, no, it’s not okay, Hobie! We need to stop this.”

“Whatever we have goin’ on between us-”

“There's nothing going on between us,” you insisted. “There should be nothing going on between us.” Hobie scoffed at you, crossing his arms over his chest. “Would’ja get ova y’self? We didn' make each other cum by accident. This keeps happenin’ fo’ a reason. We like each other.” He motioned between the two of you, his eyes softening.

“I can't do this, Hobie. I can't give you what you want.” You rushed past him and escaped out of the bathroom door before Hobie had a chance to catch you. It was a mistake to come out. You should have left the moment Hobie touched you.

It was just your luck to run into Riri on the way out the door. You bumped into her just as you neared the exit. She had whipped around, ready to let you have it until she saw that it was you and worse, when she saw the tears streaming down your face. As if this night couldn't get even more embarrassing.

You said nothing to her. You simply pushed past her and left the bar with her calling after you. Hobie approached behind her, watching you leave with sulken shoulders and smudged makeup.

“Shit.”

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

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prismuffin · 11 months

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Hello!!! I hope you're doing well:) I was wondering if I could rq a fic (or headcanons, which ever you prefer :)) of a m!reader with any male character from ATSV getting a good mark on an exam,(Manifesting yk?)

Thank you for your time:)

(also apologies if there are any writing errors, Tumbkr's being a but and blocking my text box)

LMFAO you’re good on the writing errors! Usually I get to these sooner but my morning yesterday was weird. Anyways I think that-

If you ran up to Miles with your test, screaming about how you got a good grade he’d be just as hype as you. You both get weird looks in the hallway but it doesn’t matter. He jokingly gets extremely hype, grabbing your shoulder and screaming “no way! It all worked out fine just like I said it would! Whattt!” And you punched him in the shoulder. He’d laugh with you before calming down and seriously congratulating you while saying that he knew you’d do well.

You ran up to Hobie, him turning before you even reached him, jolting in shock as you practically crash into him. Your smile was large on your face as you waved the paper in front of his face. “Calm down a bit so I can see it yeah?” He’d say while taking the paper from your hands and reading it carefully. A smile would then branch out on his face as his eyes returned back to your practically vibrating form. “Alrighttt that’s what I’m talking about,” he’d high five you energetically before wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Told you everything would work out didn’t I?” You chuckled, rolling your eyes affectionately as you took the paper back.

———

Directory

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gatorbites-imagines · 9 months

Note

Was wondering if I could maybe do a hobbie brown request?

I was thinking of something like M!reader being an alternate universe version of Miguel's child who, rather than dying himself, had to watch his dad die, basically becoming a smaller version of Miguel but with some key differences (ie like having difficulties with controlling his powers when he’s emotional or having authority issues) and Hobbie seems to take a liking towards him?

Hobie Brown x O’Hara male reader

Headcanons

Theres really not enough hobie gifs,,,,

I literally got a spidersona whose Miguel’s son lmaooo, not movie Miguel, but like, the Miguel from a different earth. So, the reader is based off of him in this :3c

You would have joined the spider society after an abnormality appeared in your world. Everyone had expected to meet another version of Miguel, since it was set in Nueva York. But instead, they got you.

You were younger, angrier, had less control of your powers, and had little to no respect for authority. And though it pained you deeply to see Miguel, he didn’t have a similar reaction, since he had a daughter and not a son.

Others started to avoid you since you had a tendency to snap at others and your powers made it even harder for you to get close to anyone. Like your dad, you kept to yourself and let yourself stew in your misery.

The first time you met Hobie was during on of your common arguments with Miguel. You two were way too alike, meaning you two butted heads, a lot. You each had your own way of doing things and didn’t like change. Maybe it was the O’Hara in your blood, but you never backed down.

It became a common sight to see the two of you hissing and snapping at each other, you because Miguel looked exactly like the dad who had abandoned you, and Miguel because you were like a reflection of himself and all the things he hated about himself.

After another one of your explosive arguments, you stomped out of Miguel’s “office”, but before you could get fat Hobie fall down from the ceiling and started walking beside you, giving you some compliment about how you never seemed to back down against authority.

In the beginning Hobie had annoyed you a lot, you had tried to chase him off like you had everyone else, but Hobie didn’t seem to act like everyone else.

He had a feeling that you chased off anyone who might like you because you feel you don’t deserve it, and after a long time of needling and prodding, you two became closer. At this time, you were both developing feelings, but you didn’t accept you liked someone, and Hobie felt no need to rush it.

As you became good friends, your image at hq became lighter, as having a friend seemingly was what you needed. Someone who’d talk you down when you fell back too much on your anger and spidery biology, and someone who’d listen when you needed to talk, and Hobie was a great listener.

Hobie ends up learning about your situation. You father was Miguel O’Hara, your earths version of him, and he was spiderman. He had you with your mother, and when you were young he left and never returned. Apparently, he believed that abandoning you would save you, or he felt he didn’t deserve a family.

When he left you had been old enough to know he abandoned you, and seeing spiderman on tv screens and on the internet only made you and your mother feel worse.

And then one day Spiderman died. Not long after that your mother got remarried and you started developing your powers. They had stayed dormant until you reached a certain age, and your mother and her husband had reacted horribly to this.

They turned horribly abusive, and you had to run away when you were a teen. One thing led to another, and Miguel’s brother Gabriel helped you onto your feet. He hadn’t known you existed until then.

Together he taught how to control your powers, he had helped you become spiderman, and then he died. He was your uncle ben you could say, but you held his words close to your heart to become a better spiderman, even though your powers became too much sometimes.

Talking about your issues ended up helping you a lot, and even though you do rage sometimes, its much less now, and you start to get closer to the other spiderpeople around your age.

At some point, when you and Hobie are hanging out in your dimension, sitting on a rooftop and eating something you got from a food truck, Hobie turns to you.

You both have your masks pushed up, or rather Hobie has his pushed up, and yours is a hologram and has just disappeared from the bottom of your face.

Before you can react, Hobie has leaned over and kissed you. You don’t even get to return the kiss before he’s pulled away and returned to his food, acting as casual as ever. Its only when you shake him demanding an answer that he tells you that he likes you.

Thanks to all the growth you’ve done as a person you are able to admit that you like him too, and another kiss is shared between the two of you. And after that, you two became a thing.

Hobie was never one for labels, but hed accept the label of being your boyfriend. He happily told anyone who asked, almost bragging that he was able to get you to agree to date him, which always leads to you rolling your eyes at him but smiling, just a little.

Miguel almost has a heart attack when he learns you and Hobie are dating, because after all this time hes started to see you in a familial light, and you have started to see him in a similar way. He will never be your original dad, and you will never be his daughter, but that’s okay.

Hobie is very proud of you for making such great progress, so he takes you out on a date. He isn’t one for big expensive dates, so it would be something like swinging around his city together, or cuddling in his apartment as you watch a movie.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to join the spider society as you thought it was.

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memory-and-sky · 5 months

Note

hobie x male reader """""""""dating"""""""" hcs?

okay this is something i can work on and get done relatively quickly. THANK YOU FOR THIS ANON! to everyone who’s sent in asks for fics, they are being worked on, i swear🙏 hope you like this though!

word count: i dunno, it’s a good chunk of headcanons

containing: explicit mention of homophobia, brief description of injury via fighting, small small small sexual reference, hobie brown x m!reader, could be cis or trans but i wrote this with cis males in mind

the rest of the headcanons are under the cut!

“dating” headcanons

hobie brown x male!reader

since Hobie lives in the 70s in Britain, gay rights weren’t really…. y’know, the best.

for your safety and his, the most he’d do in public is holding your hand. and even that was a big sign of rebellion. holding hands with a person of the same sex? how scandalous!

anyway, while holding your hand, he’d love to put both your hands in his pocket, especially if you run cold (like me :P).

he’d totally be the type to rub his thumb slowly on your palm, too.

Hobie knows a lot of people, especially in the queer and punk scenes. he gets invited to a lot of house parties, and feels safer to put your relationship on display more then, but he’s definitely not over the top with it.

a simple arm over the shoulder, around your waist, or a hand in the back pocket of your jeans, though he doesn’t need PDA to show your relationship off.

“Have ya seen this new patch on the ol’ battle jacket? Or this pin? Yeah, my lovely boyfriend made ‘em fo’ me. Gorgeous, innit?” [speaking to a random friend]

“Have ya had the pleasure of meetin’ my boyfriend yet?”

“I thought you said you hated labels…?”

“Mmh, (y/n)’s influential like tha’. Clearly ya haven’t met ‘em.” He’d say, undoubtedly with a smirk plastered on his face.

i really don’t think Hobie would get particularly jealous over you.

of course he loves you with all his little gay heart, but he doesn’t feel insecure or get upset at you or anything if you talk (or flirt) with another guy (as long as you communicate). if anyone is flirting with you and you seem really disinterested, he’ll totally intervene.

maybe hold you in a way that makes it clear you’re together, or explicitly tell the dude that you’re not interested.

but he doesn’t like treating you like an object he ‘owns’ at all, it’s why he’s pretty hesitant to slap the ‘boyfriend’ label down on your relationship right away.

and the 70s were a sexual revolution! revolting against gender norms and relationship norms, stuff like that.

if anybody ever dared ask you two ‘so who’s the man and the woman in the relationship?’ or ‘who’s the top and who’s the bottom?’ Hobie would be dreadfully disgusted and educate them immediately.

speaking of sexual revolution and whatnot, Hobie would be down for polyamory if you were.

you two have a very good line of communication, and if you wanted to open your relationship and communicated that to him, he’d be fine with it.

you’re so great, he gets how other guys might fall in love with you, too.

Hobie would give the best gifts, try and change my mind. whether it’s for your anniversary, birthday, or just a random gift, they’re always handmade.

maybe he’ll make you a piece of clothing like a shirt, hand-pick a bouquet for you, or even customizing/fixing one of your old clothing pieces with a bit of added Hobie flair.

Even small things, like a charm, pin, or patch have so much love put into them because he loves you!

touching on my first point again, homophobia was very present outside of the queer/punk scene, even in some aspects of the punk community he didn’t feel welcome at all.

usually, he’d tell people where to shove their opinion, but sometimes he’d feel completely unsafe to be himself around anyone.

yeah, he’s spider-man, but he’s also a very young adult. he could fight people, and he definitely used to, but he hated coming home to you being worried sick about all the horrible bruises, cuts, and scrapes on him.

back to the lighthearted stuff, he’s definitely the type of guy to cook for you.

doesn’t matter what meal it is, he’s gonna make it for you if he has the chance to. and he actually makes good food, despite living in Britain his whole life.

if you’ve got issues with trying new foods, his place will always be stocked full with your safe foods no matter what.

you’ll eat together, and he’ll gaze dreamily at you, wondering how he ever got so lucky to land such a stellar guy like you.

this man loves coming home after a long day, popping in a VCR for a movie of some sort (TV could be in your bedroom or living room, doesn’t matter), and just cuddling with you.

he doesn’t mind being either the big spoon or little spoon, but tends to like being big spoon cause he likes holding you close to him so much.

he’s very scrawny, but doesn’t mean he won’t love you all the same, and hold you tight.

one more thing, Hobie loves you above all else. he’ll protect you and fight for you anytime you need. when it comes to his partners, he does not play around!!

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yandere-kokeshi · 9 months

Text

— Phone addiction

Pairing: yandere hobie x female reader

Warnings: yandere behavior, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation, sex toys, DOM! Hobie, and that's it. Lmk if I missed any.

NOT CHECKED FOR MISTAKES.

You've long since learned you're a phone addict. Even Hobie said so.

Usually, it's not a problem. But, sometimes it can be — especially now when it's 2am, on a Thursday night, away from your boyfriend due to a mission.

It's not that Hobie doesn't want to be around you. He does. He's just currently busy with Miguel - when he's here, he likes to cuddle against you, wrap his arms around you as the tips of his fingers trace shapes and words into your delicate skin like ink in tattoos.

Though, you couldn't help be on your phone. It helped distracted you. Especially with the throb between your legs. A sign of you missing him.

You were about to head off for the night, already plugging in your phone when you received a message from him.

Hobie: U up, dollface?

You eagerly replied, to which, he sent a innocent smile face before two images were attached to the message. At first, your finger hovered over the blurred images; wondering if it was cliché photos of him doing trouble at the office.

But when you clicked it, the surprise of his cock glistening in the bathroom dimmed lightning — outlining his precum and underlining veins, you couldn't help but let out a whimper.

The second photo was almost the same, but the image was slightly more blurred; his smirk and attractive wink gave you goosebumps down to your very core.

Before you could double tap to zoom in, a small buzz came through again. But instead of a photo, it was a video — 30 seconds long.

Gulping, you couldn't help but press it; watching how the video started out very blurry, his groans echoing through the quartz tiles in the semi-small bathroom before showing his face; his lip piercing shining in the light.

Before you know it, his luscious cock is back in view, his Jacob ladder being highlighted. His phone was set up behind the wall of sorts as his fingers grazed over his tip, smearing the precum — his eyes making direct eye contact with the screen before his hand starts to move up and down at a slow, teasing pace.

“Need ya' so much. God, it's hell away from you. Imagine how full you'd be if I was there.”

Your eyes were wide. Mouth going dry as you felt your throb become more unbearable. You were only 12 seconds in and you couldn't breathe.

Suddenly, at the top of your screen, your phone began to ring as Hobie's name began to ring; the familiar tune of his ringtone barely being able to play as you clicked the green button.

“hello?” you breathed into the phone, fumbling with the hem of your underwear as you wait for his voice.

“Eager, are we?”

Your eyes closed.

He chuckles at your silence. “Did ya' like it?” His voice drops at the question.

“Did I like it? Oh...” you take a short breath. “You knew exactly what you were doin', huh?”

While saying that, you let your fingers travel down — cupping your breasts in your hands, tugging at your harden nipples before sliding your fingers inside the hem of your panties, circling your clit enough to bite your lip. It hadn't been as second before you'd slip a finger inside you, not enough friction that Hobie's fingers would do.

“You' playin' with yourself, ain't' ya?”

You smiled. He could feel it if he wanted too.

“Maybe I am,” you admit. Your face feels like it's on fire and you move the phone a bit– you pull your finger halfway out of you before diving back in, the wet sounds being obvious even through the phone. Hobie makes a groan, a whistle through his teeth – but he manages to keep his tone teasing as he says:

“Is that what I think?” he clicks his tongue, almost in a mockingly disappointment way, “Ya' so naughty, luv'”

“What are you doing now?” you ask, and he laughs. You hear the noise of something slick and wet. The image of him pumping his erect cock flew into your brain — making you swallow the obvious moan trapped in your throat. You miss his piercings.

“I think you can guess, doll. You're smart enough, ain't ya'?” he ends with a light laugh.

“D'you miss me that much?” you ask, sliding a second finger inside yourself, relishing the feel of the slick stretch and your tight walls.

“More words than I can say,” he breathes. “I'd fuckin' kill to have ya' right now. My hands don't feel the same as yours.”

“My fingers certainly don't reach as far as yours,” you admit, breathlessly. By the fact you're so aroused, you know he must be able to hear your fingers sliding out of you.

“Get yur' toy,” he demands. His voice dropped a semitone; low, and commanding. Usually, he's fine with whatever. But, as of right now, you can tell he misses you. So dearly.

Especially since he loved being in control at the moment. “Ya' know, the big pink one? The one I made for your—”

You let out a small squeal, pulling your fingers out with a slick pop!

You fumbled out of bed, getting on your knees, and opened your bottom drawer as quickly as possible — eyeing all the big collection of sex toys you've collected all the months together. But, you grabbed the one he so liked, especially the one he specifically built from scratch; the one he could control from his phone.

“I've got it,” you breathed. You got back into a comfy place on your bed, sliding your underwear and shirt off before hearing Hobie make a pleased hum in the back of his throat.

“Get it all nice and wet like a good girl,” he comments. Even though he can't see you, the squirts of your spit turned him on even more — imagining the way you're opening your mouth, gently licking it as if it's his own cock.

You make a conscious effort not to quiet your noises but instead make it extra sloppy; make sure he misses you deeply.

It's a messy blow job, that's for sure, but all Hobie has is the audio of the phone call and his imagination of you drooling around the toy are much sexier than him fucking you in alleyway.

Judging from Hobie's reaction — the groaning on the other end, the ragged sighs, and curses slightly cut out — your efforts are not in vain.

“Good job, princess,” he says as if he can see you when you manage to deep-throat the whole thing. “Think it's wet enough, tell me how you're f-eeling, hm?”

His light stuttering is endearing. You can imagine how he looks: him stroking his cock, balancing his weight as his thumb glides over his slit, swirling his pre-cum over his tip.

“I'm so wet-” you whimper through the phone, “I'm gonna die if I don't get this toy inside of me soon—”

“fuck,” he interrupts. “Wish it was me, doll.”

“Me too,” you admit as well. “But, this toy will do; especially since you're the one controlling it—”

“—I'll fuck ya' till you can't walk when I'm back home, gorgeous. I promise.”

There's a steely undercurrent to Hobie's words that do not leave you doubting at any second. “—bring the toy to my cunt.”

You follow his instructions, suddenly feeling it start to vibrate at its first setting — making you shiver at the sensations of the wet tip as it leaves a trail of your own saliva.

“Touch ya' tits, if I was there - I'd kiss and bite them until they're aching and sore. Give em' a pinch, dollface—”

The hand that's not currently holding the toy placed your phone on the bed, making sure it's on speakerphone before listening to his instructions — the sound of his low voice giving you orders and commands seems to intensify the ache of threshold as you pinch your nipples, almost as hard as they hurt. As you squeeze the fat and heavy weight of your breasts, you wish it was his; his fingertips and big fingers teasing you, his tongue going over your areolas, the feeling of his tongue piercing has you rolling your eyes.

His hands are naturally rough, always sliding down to the underside of your breast before gripping your tits like instruments – you whisper aloud as you skim your sensitive skin, your nipples already sore points as Hobie says;

“The toy, sweetheart. Rub it through my cunt for me, need to hear how wet ya' are.”

It does, indeed, make an indecent noise as the dildo parts your slick folds. You're drenched.

“Shit‐” he groans. “You're dripping, ain't ya?”

You mhmed to his comment, before moaning out; choking out as the smooth head vibrates over your swollen clit. Fuck, you wanted it inside you so bad. He hasn't told you to put it in — you listen, obediently.

“Wish you were here, Hobie—”

“—Me too.” He reassures you. “Need ya' hands on me, need your pretty pussy. Need you to squeeze around me and let me fuck you till oblivion.” as he speaks, you can hear a growl erupting from his throat – you imagine his hand getting faster on his cock.

Your thighs started trembling. Your wetness dribbling down the mess of your thighs.

“Hobie—” You whine, again, his words not helping the aching flame in your lower stomach and need for release. “Need the cock inside me, need it—”

“Shhh,” he breathes, “Put it in. Imagine it's me filling your pretty pussy up.”

All you can do is muster a whine and a nod you know he'll never see. You almost feel too greedy about pressing it in all one swoop — but you obey. Like a good girl. You feel the wider flare of the head open you up, easing it in while enjoying the lust filled burning.

It feels better than your fingers — it hits you deeper, wider, fuller. The muscles of your thighs contract as your put your feet on the bed, keeping your legs parted but enough too close for closure on comfort.

“is it in?” he asks before you whimper and mumble a small yes. “How does it feel?”

“Not as g-ood as y-you.”

You win a chuckle before he earns a yelp from you — the vibrations curling up to the third level.

“Oh, I know. But it's the best thing we have, yes? You full? It good? You're winning the battle of making one of us cum first.”

You moaned out, your head tilting back a bit before cursing out.

“you'll make it up for me. I know you will. Like a good girl. Why don't you fuck yourself on it? I wanna hear you come, doll. I know you can.”

You don't need to be told twice. You pull the toy out, biting your lip as you immediately thrust it back in, establishing a rhythm that goes along with its speed. Hobie, on the other side, takes his time. He teases you – stopping the speed, then climbing it back up before turning it off together. Making you fuck yourself with it. He has you at his mercy, making you beg him for it to be faster and faster — until tears come down.

You let out noises of you fucking yourself on the fake cock echo throughout the empty-ish room. The curved spot of the dildo hits you just right with every desperate flex and thrust of your wrists.

Though, Hobie heard you gasping, moaning out his name — and in return, you heard him along. You hear his hands on his shaft, whispering your name in turn, along with filthy things about how tight you always are for him and how you're the best, his good girl, and how he's gonna fuck you into next week when he sees you. He needs your cunt around his cock right fuckin' now.

You couldn't control yourself. The hand that wasn't controlling the toy went down to the puffy lips of your sex, playing with your clit as you fuck yourself with the dildo.

Circling the bundle of nerves, beginning to rub in earnest, needing direct stimulation. The pad of your finger wasn't rough enough. Wasn't large or calloused like Hobie's. But in tandem with the shaft of buildup plunging inside of your walls, you couldn't help but moan out loud.

“Hobie!” You pant, turning your head so that your cheek is pressed against the pillow. “M' close! I'm so close—”

“fuck,” he cursed, making you hear the slick noises get faster, almost impossibly so. “Shit, fuck. I want you to cum for me, luv'. Lemme hear yur' pretty voice.”

Your eyes fluttered closed, moaning more as the toy got faster, its speed turning its 5th gear; your all-time favorite.

A vision of Hobie flashes into your mind: his dark, clouded hair slightly slicked back with sweat, his shoulders tensed and so broad, his eyes glittering so dangerously as his teeth dig into his plump bottom lip. You recall the sound of his deep voice telling you to cum.

The twirling tornado of the heat inside you seems to all converge on a single point between your thighs. The ache in both of your wrists seems to dissipate entirely as the point explodes into a thousand pieces; a tsunami swallowing you whole as it crashes a peaceful shore.

You wail out Hobie's name, cresting the giant wave of pleasure as he grunts out your own; his white essence landing all over his stomach and the wall in front of him.

You lay there with the toy still buried in, now at its lowest setting – still going inside at your already-sensitive walls; making you ride out all the trembling aftershocks. Your leg seizes up but quickly drops to the mattress.

Breathing was hard. The aftershocks of pleasure were making you all double-vision. You're simply laying there, a boneless, useless mess who couldn't catch a break.

Hobie's breathing is stuttered, and you can't help but feel thrills going through at the knowledge that you always get to be the one with Hobie's cool composure. Your fingers ache, a good ache beneath the sheets.

“Still with me, baby?” Hobie's voice comes after the two of you spend a few minutes simply breathing deep and satisfying noises with each other. “I'll be home as soon as I can. Can't wait to see ya'”

“Me too,” you murmur, barely able to finish the sentence without huffing in defeat. Though, a smile on your face creeps on your face – leaking through the phone.

“Send me a picture, luv. Get yur' beauty sleep, see you tomorrow.”

—

My Masterlist :)

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