Spiderpunk X Reader - Blog Posts

The introduction

Gay people, rise up. It's Hobie time.

Warnings:

-swearing

-Miguel O' Hara

(This takes place around two and a half years before the main story, I'm working on organizing it into a masterlist rn)

You don't know exactly where you are.

That's getting more and more common these days, though, so you don't hold it against the very upset-seeming Latin man or the weird asshole hologram lady, and look forward to the small camera before you.

"I'm- I'm really sorry, what is it I'm supposed to be doing again?" Your hand finds the textured, plastic back of the chair, and you run a thumb over the grain to soak in the feeling. The man whose name you're already forgetting scowls, and he steps forward.

"Can you just- Lyla, can you do the thing?" He sounds annoyed. It makes you shrivel in on yourself, smile sheepishly as you pray that you'll make it out of today without having to deal with him any more than this.

"What thing?" Lyla, as you find out her name, seems to revel in that question, cocking out her hip in that too-big jacket and grinning as she responds.

"The information- explainy thing. You know what I mean." Lyla crossed her arms, and stuck her tongue out a little bit.

"Hah, you're talking about a different thing. You know, for someone with such thorough naming conventions-"

"I know! I understand, I get it, ay-" You've just been sitting there this entire exchange, borderline shaking as you try to understand what the fuck is going on here.

The screeching on a loud guitar makes you jump, and cover your ears. The frustrated man glances for a second, before nodding ever so slightly to Lyla, who seemingly makes a note somewhere.

"Sensory sensitivity, got it-" She speaks as you lower your hands, eyes wide and anxious like a feral cat trapped in a corner.

The big man seems to soften his posture a bit more, but he balls his hands into fists before stomping off in the direction of the guitar.

"Alright kid. Let me help you out a little here." She swoops through the air until she stands behind the camera, and gives you a seemingly more considerate smile.

You hear the shutter open.

"Introduce yourself." You don't think you pulled a face at that, but the way Lyla reacts, you simply must have. She sighs, but remains patient.

"Like your name-"

"My name??? No, no, no, no, no. I wanna do this my own way." She steps back, puts her hands up causally, before she seems to blip out of existence again, seemingly content to let you work this out on your own.

The camera is, in fact, scarier alone, but you swallow down that fear and start to talk.

"Uhhh- Hi. I'm- I- I- I-" Words seem to evade your idiot mouth as you look down the lens of the camera, before you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"Motherfffff-" You cut yourself off at the "f", remembering the single, beady eye scanning you, the piercing vertical eye of the moitor at it side that likely shows you there, too. So you correct yourself. "I shouldn't say that."

"Y- Ugh, goddammit. Webs, spider, you get the gist. Call me Orb-" Before you can finish your poorly-planned little clip, the door opens, but the cadence of the footsteps are different.

There's a stupidly lanky boy there, with a guitar on his back and adorned in spikes.

Twists stick out from his scalp, honeyed a nice yellowish at the ends, and he wears a lip ring and earrings, though they don't go up past the lobe very far.

He seems to be made of some sort of collage, infinitely shifting snippets of newspaper and color in his little backdrop as he changes color. Currently, he seems to be sticking to gray. It's neat, but you don't yet know how it works and that only sours your already confused mood further.

You frown a little, he seems to catch it.

"Oi, mate. Who're you?" Wow. He is stupid British. Some part of your brain lights up with that, chews on the way that voice rings through the space.

Not rich, from the slang, and he's clipped, so you guess somewhere South-East, judging by the jacket, near Camden.

The punk seems to squirm a bit, and he less confidently says "Wot the fuck's up with you? You're starin'"

You feel your cheeks heat with shame, but you speak up.

"Not staring, just… observing. It's different." He raises a brow, but lets you finish.

"I like your twists. Very… cool."

He pauses, before taking one of them into a gangly hand. You see the corner of his lip twitch up but you don't know why

"Thanks."

There's a moment of dead air, but you both ask the same question at once.

"Do you know why we're here?" "Do ya know why we're in this shithole?"

You meet his eyes. They're a nice brown, your brain supplies, but they would look much better in warmer lighting.

He starts to giggle. You think his laugh is funny, and chuckle too.

"Right, I guess we should get to know each-other if we're stuck here, yeah?" He's walking over now, asking that question like you know what you're doing.

"I'm Hobie. Hobie Brown." He doesn't offer a hand. You're grateful for that, this has all been too much already.

"I'm Orb-weaver." Your voice is flat enough to make him raise a brow, but he shrugs, seemingly fine with dismissing that as just how you are remarkably fast.

"All business, huh?"

"No. My name is just on a need-to-know basis right now." You answer, and he leans on the edge of your chair, smiling.

"What if I-"

"You don't need to know." His lips lose some of that smile, and, for a second, you flounder to fix that, at any cost. But you can't tell him your name.

"But… I appreciate your tenacity." It's a compliment, one of the rare ones that you give, and Hobie seems to register that, because the papers surrounding him shift again and he turns… pink. Huh.

"That sounds like a label, mate, I don't do those."

"What?"

The recording stops.

The conversation doesn't.

Why Hobie disappears

Not very long, just a little thing I wrote! Features/warnings:

Hobie is protrayed as very much being genderqueer in some way, shape or form, and is referred with he/they/she throughout the story + one instance of the reader calling him "girly" which Hobie explicitly enjoys and is implied to have talked about beforehand.

Reader is implied to also be genderqueer, and Hobie refers to them as "big man" once, they also stim when they get excited. Other than that, gender neutral reader and no warnings, just silly fluff!

It's widely understood that Hobie in himself is a wild sort of enigma. This is why no one really seems to question where he's going or why, what he plans to do. Hobie is just... Hobie, and he Hobies around until he leaves and presumably Hobies around some more wherever he trotted off to. Gwen and Pav wonder about this, because after every mission (or, at least, the few that Hobie bothers with), he just sort of magically slips off and reappears sometime later. It's Pav that suggests tracking him down, but Gwen would be a liar to say she's not also curious.

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

You sit on the floor, cross-legged with a punk at your side and a sewing machine in front of you. Tartan weave rubs against your fingers as you sew darts into the fabric, ensuring it would fit just a bit more snugly at the waist, because Hobie really liked that sort of thing in clothes. "Y'want a cinch, right? Nothin' too far off your usual?" Just in case, you double check. Hobie looks up from his guitar, and nods. You don't really note that he's smiling, and he knows you aren't, but the corners of his lips twitch up anyway. "Yeah. Thanks again, bruv, couldn't ever do that shit like you." There's something in his voice that makes you smile, nod a little firmer than normal. Hobie knows that. "Yeah, yeah, 'nuff with the flattery, I'm on it." Truth be told, this little symbiosis of Hobie giving you projects to work on and you giving him much better clothing in return has grown into something much more significant. Friendship. Even when you weren't working on anything, taking a rare break to clear your head, Hobie would let you sit near him (regardless of if you were in a talking mood or just wanted to be quiet for a few hours), sometimes talk about what he was doing, sometimes teach you a little tidbit about his universe's idea of how punk works. It was similar, for the most part, but you liked to learn new things anyway, so it never hurt. Your skilled fingers thread the machine before you as Hobie continues plucking at quiet chords with the guitar. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gwen and Pav felt like this search was endless. For at least an hour, they had found a grand total of nothing, like Hobie really had vanished into thin air. He wasn't at his place Gwen had checked, so he was probably somewhere at the Spider Society, but tracking down someone so rebellious that no one bothered to ask where he was going was proving to be ridiculously difficult. It takes another half hour to find one of the smaller rooms of the Spider Society, a little sort of craft-haven and quiet space. Pav cracks the door, and gasps a little. "Gwen, Gwen, look at this." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ When you take the now-fitted shirt off the machine (with a slight skirt you'd added made of scrap fabrics), you grin, and toss it to Hobie. "Try it on, fucker, should be perfect." Your confidence isn't misplaced, it seems, because when Hobie taps your shoulder to signal that it's good to turn back around, they're a fucking vision. Smudged eyeliner, torn pants, and the little suspenders, all the same, but with your work, cinching at the middle and showing off the wonderful lines of form, tracing down their hips until the skirt cuts off mid-thigh, Hobie looks so much more at home in it. "Fuck yeah!" Hobie smiles when you jump up and flap your hands a little, lets you circle them like a hungry shark as you rave about the new thing you'd tried, a different stitch or something. Hobie couldn't care less what you did. It was something you had made, and that was enough. "Beautiful, can't believe you're lookin' so good, girly." The tender, feminine nickname makes Hobie's chest thrum a little with satisfaction. She knows you know that she loves it when you do that, when you use other pronouns just to show her that you know and care for her preferences. "Thanks, big man. 'Preciate it." Now its your turn to grin, and wrap the punk up in a tight hug from behind, stupidly happy and content. Hobie is nonchalant. You are not. It works well. The lanky Brit smiles, and pats your hand around their waist. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Gwen and Pavitr had stood stock still as they watched this exchange. It was deeply shocking to them. Hobie, who was hanging out and being nice with some random, excitable spider that neither of them had met before. And this other spider seemingly knew things they didn't if Hobie's little smile was anything to go by. Gwen, however, softens. Hobie had his confidants, and she has hers. Maybe that's why she gently pulls Pav back, and smiles at him. "C'mon. Let's get lunch. Hobie's doing his own thing."

I. Need. More.

hobie’s the type to laugh into you while he eats it good NIGHT.

he’s just all giggles while you whine and grip at the sheets, humming against your clit and shaking his head side to side while he licks at you just to hear your pretty sobs of his name HNNNGH!!

mumbling little “yeah?”s and “mhm..”s into you while you deliriously cry out how good it feels, how close you are, and when you finally do cum he laughs.

he’s not laughing at you no, he’d never make fun of you for the pleasure he’s bringing you, he’s not a hypocrite— it’s a laugh of victory. a moan that morphs into a deep and long and nearly devilish chuckle as he drinks up whatever you give him, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you, murmuring praises against your folds as he licks you clean into overstimulation. (he kisses your clit when he’s done, he may rebel against the societal role of a man but he’s still a gentleman.)

he just gets so happy while pleasing you he can’t control himself <3

Hobie x Squirter!Reader

Reader be making a mess but she can’t help it :,(, it’s Hobies fault yk! she gets embarrassed about it everytime and always apologizes in the midst of her 🌰

Until Hobie just rams her until the bed is completelyyyyy soaked and Reader is dehydrated because… he doesn’t care 🥱

:3

Squirting

Hobie Brown x fem!reader

Warning/s: smut, p in v, I don't know just unholy shit

You were a moaning mess as Hobie was pounding into you, his dick reaching your cervix everytime he did so. Your moans got louder as you clenched around him, letting him know you were close.

Your problem was that you were a huge squirter. Of course, you and Hobie had sex before, and the first few times you squirted he just thought he made you feel really good, then later on both of you were too fucked out to notice you were squirting your juice all over him. But you were embarassed, leaving the bed always drenched in your cum, along with Hobie's face.

He thrusted into you one last time, his hips stuttering has he pulled out to cum on your thighs, only to be met with the sight of you struggling beneath him. He then noticed he had accidentally edged you, making you whine. He chuckled "'m sorry doll, thought you were cumming already" he started rubbing your clit with his thumb while inserting his middle and ring finger into you, making you moan out loudly. Fuck, he was going to see you squirt all over him just because of his fingers.

Your face was flushed as you bucked your hips, finally getting your release with your face scrunched up. And there it was, your cum completely soaking the bed sheets underneath you, along with Hobies hand. You whimpered, mumbling out apologies non stoppingly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"

"What're you sorry for?" Hobie interrupted you, feigning innocence. He knew damn well.

"For making a mess" you mumbled shyly, but as you looked up at him you were met with the sight of a smirk plastered across his face. Before you could question anything, his face lowered down to your thighs, his eyes not leaving yours as he licked a stripe off of your cunt. You moaned, clenching your thighs around him.

"You think a bit o' a mess 's gonna stop me from fuckin' you?"

You blushed, nodding slightly.

He grinned "guess I gotta prove my girl wrong" and his dick was back into you instantly. You gripped the sheets tightly, your mouth falling open as he didn't give you any time to adjust, literally just fucking your soul out. It didn't take long to make you cum, he noticed on the way you had started rambling, but he could only understand his name and a few plea's.

You reached your orgasm quickly, squirting all over his cock this time. He grunted "good girl, good fuckin' girl" and his praise immediately sent you over your edge again, surprising the both of you. However, Hobie was proud of his work. He made sure to tease you alot about it later. He didn't stop pounding into you, but his dick was covered in your juice, making his thrusts sloppy while your cum dripped down from the both of you.

Hobie pulled out one orgasm after another from you, sometimes using his mouth to make you cum, or his fingers, his dick, he also made you grind on his thigh twice, only for his thigh to end up as drenched as ever. You had started feeling overstimulated a long time ago, but this didn't stop Hobie and you were fully convinced he did, in fact, love making you squirt, even if everything ended up messy afterwards, which included the both of you.

You were bouncing on his cock, whining and biting into his shoulder as tears spilled out of your eyes. "H-hobie.. n..no more, please" you whimpered, your pussy fucked raw and puffy. He chuckled, "you can do one more sweetheart, 'tll be the last, yeah?"

Your eyes fought to stay awake, however you nodded, you couldn't say no to him. "So obedient" he mumbled, helping you to ride him. Your moans had turned into broken whimpers as your orgasm arrived once again. You felt his dick twitch in you and you immediately knew he was close too. He gripped you harder, slowly picking you up so his dick wasn't in you anymore, until he slammed you down, earning a loud scream from you and a moan from him. He did this a few more times, but soon you two were panting and with one more last big thrust he came deep into you, while you drenched his lap.

Your exhausted body went limp on him and you were able to hear his chuckles as he kissed your face. "Luv"

You hummed in response and he gripped your chin with his hand, making you look down to the bed which was fully wet, then to the cum on his lap which was dripping down to the sheets.

"Fuck"

---

Bonus

Your body was hugging Hobie's, your legs around his waist and your head in his chest while he held your thighs. Naked, along with you, he picked you up, walking to the kitchen right after you two had the time of your lifes. As he had arrived to the kitchen, he had dragged a towel with him, placing it on the counter with you on top of it. He felt sorry for you after you had pleaded him to just take a towel, you didn't want to cause any more mess.

He stood between your legs, filling a glass with water "drink"

He placed the glass against your lips, and as you didn't gulp it down he spoke up "drink, luv, don't want my whore to faint just because of how many times I could make her squirt"

You blushed, squirming slightly and taking a sip out of the glass.

"Good girl"

Masterlist

Hobie x afab!reader (smut)

Imagine..

Hobie is fucking you from behind, the tip of his cock reaching parts you didn't even know existed. You're lying on your stomach, your legs and arms widely spread, letting Hobie fully take control. He notices the way you get all sloppy, the way you're fucked out, your eyelids fluttering close. Your moans are muffled by the pillow your face is in.

He takes a handful of your hair, pulling you back so your face is no longer squashed into a pillow. He takes pride in making you all cockdrunk for him. "Already so fucked out and I didn't even make you cum yet" he speaks, sucking on your sweet spot on your neck. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull. He notices the way your moans slowly fade into broken words. You try to talk, but the words aren't forming as everything you say turns into pathetic whimpers.

"What is it sweetheart? Talk t'me" you can basically feel his wide grin. You collect all of your last energy to finally give him your wish. "H-ha.. nghh— harder!" He almost halts for a moment. "Wha'? Baby you're almost fallin' apart beneath me, I'm afraid you'll pass out if I do any more" he chuckles, but as he hears your unaudible protests he gives in, fucking you at a gut wrenching pace. Your knuckles turn white as you grip into the sheets while Hobies hand is still gripping into your hair to force you to look up.

"Not with me luv" he grumbles as he takes both of your hands and pulls them together with one of his hands. His huge palm is able to hold both of your wrists together. His hips start to stutter as he feels himself coming closer to his high, along with you — and no longer after you're squirting on his cock while he pulls out to cum all over your pussy, moaning at the sight of his and your juice mixing together.

His fingers come down to your cunt to collect the juice, but you're squirming away from him. "Ts too much!"

""Ts too much!" He mocks as he laughs. "Calm down, I'm not doin' any more, sweetheart." and his softer side comes back as he kisses all over you, taking you in his arms to get you cleaned up as he praises you.

Masterlist