: PROTECTOR.hobie Brown X Reader

: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader

summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!

“is it home-time already, darlin’?”

there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.

“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.

“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.

“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.

it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;

“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”

his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.

laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.

he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.

it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.

you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~

“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.

“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.

“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”

“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.

“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.

“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.

you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.

his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.

deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.

“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.

“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.

a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.

“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.

“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.

“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.

“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.

hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.

it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.

when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.

after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.

“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.

stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.

shit.

you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?

grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.

“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.

“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.

wait, above?

craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.

“spider-man?”

and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.

“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”

“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”

“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.

“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.

“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.

“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.

“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”

“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”

ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.

“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”

his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.

he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.

“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”

“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”

“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.

his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.

“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.

“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.

“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.

you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.

“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.

“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.

“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”

the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.

“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”

“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.

he always did hate consistency, anyway.

“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.

“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.

“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.

“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.

“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.

turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.

it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.

he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.

but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.

he was fucked. well and truly.

“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.

“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”

your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.

stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.

“what’s up?” you questioned.

“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.

you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.

“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”

it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.

“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.

“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.

untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.

“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”

and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?

shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.

insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.

“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.

gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.

“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.

“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.

“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”

he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.

“are you o—“

“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.

it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.

without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.

your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.

“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.

embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.

he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.

his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.

pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.

“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”

you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.

“like, a lot.”

he kissed you again. and again.

a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!

SUMMER 2023

- UNLEARN THE SHAME

- DANCING IN THE DARK (1984)

- TANK TOP (NO BRA)

- JACK OFF

- SERVE CUNT

- FIND HOLY IN THE MUNDANE

- IGNORE THE DREAD

- BUSH, HAPPY TRAILS, BODY HAIR

- BISEXUALITY

- SHOW YOURSELF GRACE

- BE GENTLE AND KIND

- LET GO OF THE PAST

kisses

Hobie brown x reader

You and your boyfriend love bothering Miguel, that's why you two always are making out infront of him.

a/n: a shorty drabble 'cuz hobie has me in a chokehold

"Miguel is so upset" you murmured in amusement to your lover, who had his arm around your waist as you two listened to Miguel "talk" to Miles. The boy had guts. You liked him and so did Hobbie.

Speaking of Hobie, as soon as Lyla began her explanation of the canonical events, your boyfriend began leaving wet kisses on your neck making you giggle.

"Hobie.. stop" you whispered but we both knew that meant "keep doing it", your boy smiled against your skin before placing his hand on your jaw and being able to join his lips against yours.

Being kissed by Hobie Brown was heavenly, your tongue touched his cold piercing making you shiver in his arms, you leaned your head to deepen the kiss and Hobie received your tongue gladly in his mouth.

As soon as Hobie started to almost eat your mouth you forgot where you were and with whom. However, when Hobie sucked on your tongue you couldn't help but moan, after that, their bubble burst.

" ay, no puede ser! Could you two not eat their faces to each other when I'm explaining something really important!.. It's rude" Miguel scolded you two, your cheeks heating up when Pav winked at you while Hobie just shrugged, wrapping his hand around your waist.

"Just pretend we're not here, mate" he murmured making you laugh.

⋆ “come home to me.”

in which hobie keeps his promise that he’ll always come back to you, no matter what.

fem!reader. slight nsfw, mdni. angst at the end. mentions of wounds.

being spider-man was a pain, never ending with little to no relief. hobie couldn’t exactly take a break from protecting london, and by extension the multiverse. but sometimes he just wanted to throw in the god forsaken towel that had been thrust upon him years ago.

since he can’t do that, he finds solace in you.

when he comes home late at night, bruised and bleeding, and you chide him for his recklessness. you have him stand while you sit on the countertop, or if hes too tired he’ll sit and you’ll stand.

you’ll press rubbing alcohol and triple antibiotic to his facial cuts. on the worst nights he doesn’t even protest. he’ll let his head fall forward to rest in the crook of your neck and just breathe you in.

because at the core of it all, it’s you that keeps him going. you that gives him purpose.

on other nights, the nights where death reaches too close and he feels the sharp promise of dark eternity, he finds you in his bed. he’ll sink into you slowly, drawing both of your orgasms out until his body shakes with overwhelming emotions and sensations. he’ll have you mewling and whining under him as he sets a slow pace, thrusting deep inside of you so that you feel him pressed against your cervix.

on those nights he needs to be the closest he can get to you, the most connected you can be. he needs to hear his name from your mouth as reassurance. it’s grounding, making love to you. and you realize that, holding him round the shoulders and moaning against his skin.

and after, he’ll hold you close, tucking you away under his chin and close to his chest. sometimes he watches the window in the bedroom, daring fate to test his will to protect you.

he’ll whisper expressions of gratitude into your ear, no matter how you protest. because he is thankful for you, for your patience and empathy. your kindness. because truthfully, he doesn’t know how he would handle it if the roles were reversed.

when he told you his secret identity, his spider-persona, you had barely bat an eye.

all that you asked was one thing.

“promise that you’ll always come home to me. i don’t care how, be it broken and bleeding or perfectly fine. just come home.”

and he had promised, pressing a kiss to your temple and holding you close.

you were his home, no matter what happened. and he would always come back to you.

until one night, when a tall man in a blue and red spider-suit stepped through a portal. he removed his mask, revealing a grave expression, and your mouth opened to ask.

“where’s hobie?”

want to check out more of my work? click here!

“I’m not sure which is worse: intense feeling, or the absence of it.”

— Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

high sex with hobie plssss

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

thank you for the req anon!

hobie x gn!reader smut

masterlist ミ☆

took me a minute to find my footing with this but quickly found inspiration from the song 'Slow Motion' by Duckwrth. I know it ain't punk but- who cares? Inspo is inspo like, do you want the smut or not?? /j /lh

1.1k words :: gn!reader :: estab relationship :: an’ ofc some drug use lol :: kinda proof read :: sub!hobie

!! minors/ageless blogs, I ask that you do not interact as I check my notes daily and will block you from my blog entirely if I see you, thank you.

smut below the cut, you have been warned ་ ༌ ༶

ミ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

You were laying on your bed with your partner, shoulder to shoulder passing a joint back and forth. The open window to your bedroom blew in cool August air that prickled goosebumps on your exposed skin.

With every drag you felt your anxieties ease, humming as you let yourself sink further into the mattress, eyes closing in contentment. You feel the bed creak a little as Hobie readjusts himself.

“I can feel you staring at me,” you muse. Eyes still shut, you hear Hobie clear his throat before taking another hit of the spliff, you twitch slightly at the soft crackle it makes.

“M’not,” he says, sitting up so he could blow the weed smoke into your face, making you both giggle.

You swat at him, loosely aiming for his chest, “prick.”

He doesn’t reply.

Opening your eyes you turn to look at him. Despite the low light of your room, you’re able to make out how he gazes down at you with a look that you came to recognise as pure adoration- and a glint of something else.

“been missing you so much lately m’love,” he mutters, causing your chest to fizz at the rasp in his voice.

You missed him too, summer meant that he was busy performing at gigs across London. His schedule was already so packed protecting the city as spiderman, so with the added onslaught of performances meant that he could only spare you the occasional text. He hadn’t felt the warm familiarity of your arms for a month.

“yeah?” you grin, cheekily.

Pushing away an ache in your chest from the weight of his stare, you nimbly remove the blunt from his fingers before sitting up and reaching over to stub it out on the ashtray that sat on your bedside table.

You move to sit closer to him, hand cupping his cheek you rub your thumb over his bottom lip softly, “I missed you too Hobie”

He exhales deeply, half-lidded and leaning into your touch. Your mouth curves into a smirk when you realise he’s staring at your lips. You can’t help but lick them instinctively.

“yeah? how much did you miss me sweet’art?” He murmurs, head evidently spinning.

You roll your eyes at how he still manages to be so smug whilst melting so easily in your grasp. You decide to humour your lover- just this once.

You lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth, grazing your lips across his jawline before you leave a chaste kiss at his neck, revelling at the low gasp Hobie makes at the contact.

“c’mere,” he groans.

He snakes his arms around your waist, a hand at the small of your back as he pulls you closer to him. You kneel with your legs on either side of him, gaining as much height as possible whilst you pepper soft kisses across his face.

Pulling back, you hold the back of Hobie’s head, looking down at him fondly, skin hot to the touch. His full lips are slightly agape, warm breath fanning your face as he looks up at you with a knowing smirk.

You bite your lip, grinning down at him. You wouldn’t give him what he wanted so easily.

“y’gonna make me ask for it aren’t you?” he chuckles lowly, his large hands moving down to grope the back of your thighs gently, “such a tease, love.”

“But you’re so pretty when you beg, Bee,” you hum. Rolling his eyes at the nickname, he quickly tries to steal a kiss but you move your head out of the way before he can.

Hobie’s bottom lip protrudes, pouting jokingly.

Tutting, you lean in and kiss behind his ear, properly sinking down to sit in his lap. You sigh at how his clothed hips buck up into yours impatiently, gripping your waist.

You grind your hips into him causing his breath to hitch, you feel him hardening beneath you. He slurs your name,

“Want you kiss me,” he breathes, “need yo-“ you cut him off, kissing him languidly. That was all you needed to hear.

Tilting your head to accommodate his nose, Hobie moans into your lips. His brows knitting together as you push him to lay back into the mattress, he savours the sweet sounds that escape you- desperate to coax more out of you.

A hand travels up to the nape of your neck, tensing as you pull away for air. The sight of you hovering over him with hooded eyes, licking away the trail of spit shared between your puffed lips almost making him whimper beneath you. To say he was hard would be an understatement.

“you’re so pretty,” you both say after a moment.

Laughing warmly, you put your face in the crook of his neck before slumping on top of him- unable to stable yourself. You feel him chuckle under you, holding your hips.

You then yelp when he flips the pair of you over before you catch your breath. His forearm rests at the side of your head as his free hand begins to hike up your shirt. You gasp, twitching at the feeling of his cold hands and the metal of his rings.

He leans close to your ear, “can I show you how much I’ve missed you my love?” he murmurs. It was your turn for your head to spin.

Speechless, you nod, letting him remove your top.

Kissing your neck he nips at your jugular causing you to moan softly.

“Hobie,” you sigh.

“Show me where y’want me to touch you, help ‘Bee’ make y’feel good, yeah?” he grins, teasing.

Placing your hand atop his, you guide him to your collarbone, slowly dragging his hands over your exposed chest. He handles you like you were made of porcelain. Biting your lip as his ring delicately snags at your taut nipple, you see him smirk when you stop at your lower abdomen.

“Here,” you breathe, feeling your heart skip when he nods, biting his lip and rubbing circles into your hipbone.

He leans in once more to kiss you deeply before trailing wet kisses down where you had shown him.

He drags his tongue greedily over your nipple, back arching as he pulls on it gently between his teeth before you slump back into the mattress with a huff as he continues his ministrations down your stomach.

He giggles at you.

You roll your eyes in return.

“Dick.”

“I’m getting to it,” he quips as he unbuttons your trousers hastily. You silently curse yourself at the way your crotch pulsated at his joke, helping him discard your jeans.

You glance down to see how Hobie’s dick strained against his own as he sat up to pull his shirt off, admiring the way the soft glow of the moon outlined every contour of his gorgeous form.

Hobie kisses his teeth and throws his shirt at your head.

“It’s rude to stare, bug,” he chuckles at the expression you shoot him when you throw the shirt to the side.

You were going to kill him.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Can you tell I like leaving shit open ended? My toxic trait- I have no remorse. Not my best work but like- I think I ate? A crumb, perhaps.

Thanks again to anon for requesting this! Thank you so much for your patience doll, hope it was worth the wait.