#spiderpunk fluff

[eternalfics]

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 🤨.

[murdrdocs]

I just thought this was funny because Hobie's british

He's just dying in the heat and his S/O (who deals with it a lot better) is just walking around in a light jacket

this is sooo silly tehe

there's a near record breaking heat permeating london today. you were quickly made aware of the fact as soon as you woke up, radio already turned on to a low volume, another motown hit disrupted by the man who'd excitedly announced the weather.

the thing you notice next is the loud whirring of the fan coming from somewhere in the apartment. you rub your eyes, let your senses come to for a second, and you realize that there's multiple fans going off around the flat, even though you know you and hobie only owned one floor fan when you went to bed last night.

as your eyes clear up, you notice a new box fan just a few feet away from you, leaning against the wall and aimed directly towards where you and hobie sleep.

you look over, noticing the emptiness of the bed, and then you pick up on the shower running. walking into the bathroom, you're expecting to feel heat waves penetrate your skin from the area, but you don't. in fact, there's no steam on the glass, no layer of fog reaching the ceiling.

you're already prepared to bet that hobie's taking a cold shower, and when you open the door and feel nothing warm, your suspicions are confirmed.

"running hot?" you ask him, smirk unable to be wiped from your face. hobie looks over his shoulder, blinking through the droplets of water that runs down his face, and he scowls.

your smirk only grows tenfold.

"fuck off..." he's saying, but his hands are reaching out for you and suddenly you're pulled under freezing cold water, squeals and squeaks doing nothing to deter hobie's tormenting.

the two of you spend most of the day inside, but hobie decides it's too hot to use the stove or oven so suddenly you're walking down the street towards the bodega on the corner, a pep in your step and a drag in hobie's.

he's using some pamphlet he took from a guy attempting to convert you both to christianity on the street to fan himself, dark eyes turned towards you judgmentally.

"how're you wearing that?" he asks and it takes you a second.

your eyes turn down, beginning to scan your worn-down chucks, to your denim shorts, to the little tee shirt you wear. all the while, you're not paying much attention to your surroundings, leaving hobie to place his free hand on your waist and guide you out of the way of passerbys.

it's not until you reach your thin jacket that you notice what he's talking about, mouth contorting to an 'O' shape.

you shrug, looking back up, glancing at him with a shit-eating grin on your face.

"'s not that hot. there's a little breeze."

[ichorai]

get better ; hobie brown.

track nine of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; hobie brown x spider!cottagecore!reader (gender neutral)

synopsis ; electric guitars and strawberries, leather jackets and quilted skirts, city spiders and cottage spiders. the two of you were perfect for each other.

words ; 5.5k

themes ; fluff, mild angst & action, established relationship (dating)

warnings / includes ; mentions of death, a nightmare/mild panic attack, reader is a mutant on top of being a spider (has the ability to conjure flowers), reader's universe is basically cottagecore universe, pav is there even tho he shouldn't be bcs i wanted to include him, hobie is an amazing bf and affectionately calls reader 'cheeky' :( and a little charles xavier mention bcs <3 the x-men are everything to me

main masterlist.

London was a cold, dreary place. You didn’t belong there, no, sticking out like a sore thumb from the cold, harsh corners of buildings that grazed the clouds and the damp, narrow streets. But you were there anyway, almost as often as you spent time in your own quaint universe, where York was nothing but homey cottages and endless green fields of flowers, strawberries, and farmer’s markets.

You were there for your boyfriend, who cared for the people of the city enough to criticize its leaders—a feat the large portion of the country couldn’t be bothered doing.

Today was a long day of protesting. Inhumane laws were being passed, the government was in shambles, and the PM was a fucking joke. You wanted to be there for him and show him support—it wasn’t your universe, sure, but it was important to you, anyway. Nobody deserved to live in fear of tomorrow.

The two of you made your way back up into Hobie’s dingy little apartment when the sky began to grey with gloomy clouds and cold rain dribbled down dirty rooftops. Hobie slammed the door behind him, the faded Sex Pistols poster loosely tacked on the back warbling with the sudden movement. In turn, you made a bee-line for his bed on the opposite side of the room—really, Hobie’s apartment was just a narrow rectangle, with a cramped bed in one corner, a beaten-up green sofa in another, and the kitchen furthest away from the door. There was another door by the other end that led to the bathroom with cracked mirrors. All the walls were covered with art, posters, random memorabilia, and stickers. 

It was a claustrophobe’s nightmare, but it was home to Hobie, which made it your home, as well.

You moaned with relief when you laid down on his thick comforter, shutting your eyes for a moment. Still leaning against the door, Hobie watched you eagle-spread over his bed with a small, amused smile. 

He could never get over how funny you looked, surrounded by dark colors and ripped clothes and filthy artwork, when you yourself were the exact opposite—all soft hues and gentle nature and sunshine. Hobie loved that about you. How you were unabashedly so lovely no matter where you were, or what you were doing.

“You falling asleep on me, Cheeky?” he asked, voice lilting with the affectionate pet name, languidly striding over to sit onto the mattress beside you. The bed creaked with protest under the additional weight.

“Mhm,” you hummed in reply, turning your head so you could offer him a tired grin. “Rain always gets me sleepy.”

The silver of his piercings glinted with what little light streamed through his window. “Take a nap, then, yeah? I’ll wake you up for dinner.” 

With your final murmur of thanks, Hobie dipped down to sweep the hair away from your face, placing a chaste kiss to your forehead, before standing back up to go fix himself a snack. 

Hours later, when you had only begun to twitch with the beginnings of a nightmare, Hobie had gently shaken you awake, beaming at the way your nose wrinkled and your heavy eyes fluttered open to meet his bright ones. 

“Rise and shine,” he greeted, smoothing out the creases of the shirt you were wearing. “Well, it’s not really shinin’ out there, innit? Rise and gloom.” 

A steaming cup of peppermint tea was pushed into your hands. You didn’t even have to taste it to know that he’d added just the right amount of sugar for you. “Thanks, Hobie,” you mumbled, craning your neck to kiss his cheek.

“Got you somethin’ from the chippie—it’s in the microwave whenever you want it.”

Still groggy, you loosely wound your arms around his neck to tug him into a warm embrace, careful not to spill any of the tea. Half of your body was slung over his legs, the other hanging off the bed. Without hesitation, Hobie’s long arms came around to pull you tighter against him, hugging you close. 

“Argh, you’re just too good to me,” you whispered, clutching him tight. “How much was the food?”

“Ah, ah,” he said, pulling away to click his tongue and shake his head. “Don’t worry about it. My shitty universe, my shitty quid.”

With an affectionate roll of your eyes, you pulled away from him. “Alright, well, next time we’re at my place, I’m treating you.”

“Would expect nothing less, Cheeky.”

The two of you shared the microwaved dinner from the chippie together, the large fries nearly burning your tongue and the fish drenched in far too much vinegar for your taste, but the two of you ate it happily regardless. 

After the food was cleaned out, you curled up into Hobie’s sofa—which smelled just like the mango perfume you had given to him for his birthday—and brandished the sewing kit you had kept here, hidden beneath the cushions. Your boyfriend took a seat beside you, his guitar situated over his lap and a dull pocket knife gripped in his hand. He took to engraving his initials against its side (and planned on engraving yours right next to it), as you pulled his leather vest closer, stitching one of the patches that had come loose back on. 

A comfortable silence stretched over the both of you, like a warm blanket draped over your shoulders. It was only broken by Hobie’s disjointed humming to a song you couldn’t recognize, and the soft pattering of rain outside. 

Once he was done with the ‘B’ of his last name, he peered over your shoulder, leaning down to press a kiss to the base of your neck. “How’s it coming?”

You turned with a sweet smile, one that made Hobie’s chest warm. To him, you were the literal embodiment of sunshine. “All fixed,” you chirped, nudging him slightly. “How’s the guitar?”

“Good as ever. D’you mind if I put your name next to mine?”

Your eyes shone. “Go ahead,” you replied, before reaching down to fish something out of your pocket. “Oh, I totally forgot—I embroidered this for you! Made it from my own synthesized silk ‘n everything.”

It was another patch, about half the size of his palm, depicting a bright red strawberry sitting against an equally vibrant yellow backdrop. A genuine smile flickered over Hobie’s countenance. 

“Oh, this is wicked, Y/N! Looks fuckin’ fab,” he exclaimed, leaning closer to inspect all the tiny details. Somehow, his beam grew wider. Hobie situated the patch over an empty spot on his vest. “Could you sew it here?”

You nodded whilst humming an affirmative. A rush of heat pulsed over your face when Hobie leaned down to kiss your cheek, pulling back with an obnoxious mwah. 

“You’re a talent, you know that? Thank you.”

It was a few minutes later when you showed him his vest—finally ready and decked out with a multitude of both new and fixed patches. In turn, he showed you your name etched right next to his. Overwhelmed by just how much you loved your boyfriend, every single bit of his punk, anarchist self, you threw yourself into his open arms, hugging him tight. A flower appeared behind his ear, and he pinched it between two fingers, pulling it away to inspect its small white petals and smooth green stem. With a hum, Hobie pushed it back onto his ear and returned your embrace.

A week later, you and Hobie were at another underground music concert, filled to the brim with punk rock enthusiasts and anarchists of the very same ilk as him. Seeing as he was the last gig to play, the night ended with an elongated guitar riff, and Hobie’s fist thrusting high up as the final notes crashed against the cheering crowd. It wasn’t long before he was hopping off the rickety stage, immediately greeted with your wide smile and more tiny flowers blooming within the moist cracks of the sidewalk by your feet. 

“You did amazing!” you exclaimed, bouncing on the heels of your feet excitedly. “Argh, I’m so proud of you! When you did that thing—with that guitar—and then you just—AH! I loved it, Hobie!”

Your boyfriend slung an arm over your shoulders, briefly pressing his nose against your hairline. “Thanks, Cheeky.” He glanced at the large box you were holding. “What’s all this now?”

“Merchandise,” you chirped with bright eyes. “Made it all myself back in my universe. Free of charge, of course. Everyone deserves to enjoy art without worrying about its price.”

Hobie swore he fell in love with you just a smidge more right then and there.

With nimble fingers, he plucked a bundle out of the box, unfurling it to reveal a dark black t-shirt with a messy crimson scrawl of ANARCHY! across the chest. To his fond delight, there was a little flower drawn just beneath the large text. A touch of him, and a touch of you.

Not waiting another second, Hobie slipped the shirt over his head, one of his piercings momentarily snagging against the collar. You were quick to shift the box onto one arm so you could help him safely tug the shirt down without ripping his earlobe into two. 

After murmuring his thanks, Hobie cupped his palms over his hands to yell, “Oi, you lot! Come ‘round here for free shirts! Made by the loveliest person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing!”

The two of you stayed at the venue until all your shirts were given away, and even then there were a few stragglers left, disappointed they hadn’t gotten anything.

“Come to Hobie’s next gig, I’ll bring some more things by then,” you reassured them with a kind smile. 

After another series of goodbyes, Hobie finally pulled you out of the dingy venue, his hand curled over your upper back and your arm wrapped around his hips. 

Hobie was a true artist. Everything he touched, he could turn into something of beauty, something raw and pure and breathtaking. When you had vocalized such thoughts to him, he smirked, loose and humored. 

“Don’t like labels,” he said, gaze fixed on his guitar and the uncapped marker he was using to draw just beneath the strings. “You sure you’re not biased?”

“Not at all,” you hummed in reply, leaning against him. The two of you were in your universe, laying spread over a checkered blanket on a vast field not too far from your little cottage. The grass was greener than what Hobie had back home, and the air was clearer and lighter than anything he’d ever breathed before. Somehow, the breeze that whistled between the two of you smelled of strawberries and peaches—or maybe that was your perfume. Hobie couldn’t get enough of it, either way. Your universe was beautiful—nearly as beautiful as you were. 

Whilst he was concentrating on his scribbled drawings, you were tinkering with one of your web shooters—a series of miniscule gadgets with brown fixings to wrap around your wrist. Once you clicked it back into place, you jutted it out to Hobie, the round capsules hovering only inches beneath his nose.

He laughed, gently pulling your hand away so he wouldn’t go cross-eyed. “You make these yourself?”

“Synthesized them with all natural ingredients. Took a lot of trial-and-error, but I think I’ve finally perfected the colored formula,” you said, pressing down with both your middle and index finger, showing him how the webs shot out so far he couldn’t even see where it disappeared within the swishing blades of grass.

Arching a brow, he echoed, “Colored formula?”

You grinned. “Take a look. I made them green! I think it’s much prettier than plain ol’ white,” you said.

“Green spider webs, huh? You really are something else,” he surmised with a half-chuckle, half-snort, a goofy smile to his lips. Your excitement was beginning to rub off on him, so he took your hands again, admiring your craftsmanship. “These are so fucking cool.”

“I could make you colored webs, too—whatever color you want!” You perked up with the idea, smiling brighter than the golden sun hanging sweetly in the soft pink sky (the skies were pink during the day in your universe, it was trippy as hell). Little flowers bloomed around you, a few appearing in the surrounding grass, some popping into his hair, others materializing on your flowing blouse.

Flustered, you reached over to pluck out the flowers in his hair, murmuring a quiet apology. 

“Nah, it’s cute,” he reassured you, shooting you a curious look. “So—does your universe have others that are also called ‘mutants’ or is it just you?”

“There’s not a lot of us,” you admitted. “It was scary, at first. I was completely… normal until I hit thirteen years old—all of a sudden, flowers started blooming everywhere and I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t control it and it only grew worse the more scared I got. A man named Charles Xavier took me under his wing at his school for gifted students—well, that’s just a code word for mutants—and he helped me train to control it. Obviously… not well enough—flowers still sprout when I feel strong emotions.”

Hobie’s nose wrinkled. “My fault. You like me a bit too much, Cheeky.”

With a playful shove, you huffed out a tinkering laugh. “Anyways, while I was at the school, there was a student with the ability to turn objects radioactive. Highly dangerous, and he could’ve been used as a weapon of war if in the wrong hands. One day, he was just fucking around and… he accidentally turned a spider radioactive. He didn’t tell anyone because he was scared he was going to get in trouble. Lo and behold, it got loose, and the next day, it bit me while I was out on a walk. So not only was I a mutant, I became a Spider, as well. I trained with my newfound powers every day in the Danger Room. I graduated top of nearly all my classes. And not too long after, Miguel came popping out of nowhere—the look on his face when flowers started appearing all over his suit was hilarious.” You chuckled lightly, leaning your head against Hobie’s shoulder. “Your powers are much cooler, though. I wish I had electric abilities.”

The marker in Hobie’s hand was quickly capped, and put to the side so he could raise it to stroke the back of your head. “Flower power is cool as fuck, what are you on about?”

You smiled. Another flower, a fragile pink thing, blossomed onto his lap. Hobie barked out a roguish laugh.

“I love you,” you hummed. 

“Love you back, Cheeky.”

Nueva York was the exact antithesis to your world. Everything was new and modern and cutting-edge, heavy on minimalism and plain white canvases of nothing. It lacked art and humanity and just… life, in general. You didn’t really enjoy coming to this universe—the only reason you did was to help out with anomalies whenever you were needed. Though you didn’t quite agree with Miguel’s canon theory (it was messy and evidently didn’t apply to every Spider), you had to agree that villains running amok in rogue universes was no good for anyone. You had personal experience with the matter when a glitching Mysterio came tumbling through a farmer’s market in your universe, baskets of fruit flying every which way and bouquets trampled beneath his descent. 

Today, however, you were called in because of your boyfriend. His hologram had appeared over your wrist, offering you a loose smile and a two-fingered salute.

“Hey, Hobie,” you greeted, pausing your baking and brushing errant strands of your hair away with flour-covered hands. “What’s going on?”

“I’m at HQ. Heading over to see Miguel. D’you mind coming, if you’re not too busy?”

“Oh, uh, sure,” you said, heading over to the wash basin to rinse off your hands. “Is everything okay?”

The hologram of Hobie hummed, warbling as you rushed to change out of your clothes and into your suit—a white top with beige and green accents, webbing into a spiral around an embroidered collection of flowers on your chest shaped into a spider. Your boyfriend lowered his voice to say, “The original is here.”

“Original?”

“The first anomaly.”

“Oh,” you said, eyes widening a fraction. Oh. 

Hobie pursed his lips. Though he was doing well to hide it, you could see the buried worry behind his dark irises. The both of you were well aware that Miguel wouldn’t take this lightly. “Yeah. You’ll be here?”

“I’ll be there. See you in a minute, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll be waiting by the Spider-burger place. Love ya, Cheeky.” With that, he flickered out of view. You blew out a breath, snagged a bag from your room, and pressed a few buttons on your watch. A glowing orange portal opened by your kitchen door. You stepped through, and a tunnel, an elevator, and a hall later, you found yourself at the heart of Spider Society.

Hundreds of Spidermen, Spiderwomen, and Arachnids alike were passing by, chattering aimlessly, or rushing to wrangle their anomalies to the Go-Home Machine. After weaving through the crowd, you made your way to the McSpiders booth, where they sold the most delicious burgers, but you didn’t think you had time for that today. 

Hobie was waiting at one of the tables, Pav glued to his side, and Gwen on the other. 

Your boyfriend waved, shooting you a wink just as Pavitr shot up, dashing forward to envelop you in a tight hug. 

“It’s been so long!” the younger Spider exclaimed. “How’ve you been? How are you?”

“I’m good, Pav,” you warmly replied, patting his back affectionately. Then, you waved to Gwen, who looked a little uncomfortable at the predicament she was in, but tried her best to push it down for a moment to say hello.

You gave her a warm embrace, squeezing tight, a nonverbal confirmation of telling her you were there for her. Knowing that she was technically universeless, both you and Hobie would often let her crash over at your respective places. In fact, she slept in one of your extra rooms so much it was practically hers by now, filled with plenty of her personal belongings. She was one of your closest friends, and seeing her so anxious did nothing but fill you with worry. 

Once you pulled away from your two friends, you gave Hobie a quick hug, kissing his cheek. Pav cooed obnoxiously whilst Gwen lightly joked for the two of you to get a room.

Hobie shoved at the blonde’s shoulder with scoff. “Come off it, we wouldn’t have the time anyway.” 

Finally, you turned your gaze to the last one in the group—Miles Morales. 

It was certainly strange to see him in the flesh, when he was such a popular topic of discussion amongst the verse-traveling Spiders. He was a gangly yet handsome boy, with a head of dark, curly hair, and large brown eyes. 

He offered you a nervous smile. “So, uh, you must be Y/N! I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I can say the same thing,” you replied, thinking back to all the times Gwen would lounge in your bed and tell you about her time helping Miles with Kingpin. “It’s nice to put a face to your name after all this time.”

“Yeah, yeah, same.” Awkward as ever, Miles let out something akin to a laugh. His eyes darted down when he noticed Hobie’s hand slipping over your midriff. “So! You’re Hobie’s partner, right? I thought he didn’t believe in consistency.”

You grinned when Hobie drummed his fingers along your hip, shrugging in a nonchalant manner. “If I was inconsistent all the time, that’d be me being consistent, no? Keep with the times, mate.”

Confused, Miles’ lips parted to ask another question but you shook your head. “Just don’t question it. God knows how many times I’ve stumped myself trying to figure him out.”

Hobie shot you an amused look. Before anyone could say anything else, Gwen swung onto her feet, shifting her weight in a fidgety manner. “We should probably get a move on, before Miguel gets mad.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. You guys mind filling me in with what happened on the way?”

And so the five of you set off, with Pav and Gwen taking turns on telling you what had transpired in Mumbhattan, with Hobie occasionally chiming in. Miles was far too enamored by all the other Spiders to really pay attention to what they were saying. 

Once you were all informed, you supplied a worried look in Miles’ direction. Stopping a canon event from happening… Miguel definitely wouldn’t be happy about that.

Sensing your eyes on him, Miles met your eyes. “Is there something on my face?” he asked. 

“Oh, no. Sorry. I was just distracted.” A flower popped on your shoulder, and another appeared in Miles’ hair. He pulled it out with a surprised raise of his brows.

“Huh. That’s new,” he said with a slightly curious smile. “So, you and Hobie! I guess I just didn’t expect him to be with someone so…”

You tilted your head. “So…?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “You guys look, like, complete opposites.”

Pavitr clapped his hands. “Well, opposites do attract!”

With half a smile pulling at one corner of his mouth, Hobie chimed, “We aren’t complete opposites. We both have a crippling hatred for capitalism and greedy billionaire corporations.”

“That we do,” you agreed, beaming warmly at him. Suddenly, you perked up, remembering what you had brought with you. “Oh, I almost forgot! Pav, Gwen—I made you tote bags a while ago and haven’t gotten the chance to give it to you guys. They’re all made from ethically sourced materials, of course. Sorry, Miles, I would’ve made you one if I’d known I was going to meet you today.”

“It’s no problem. There’ll be a next time, right?” he said, watching as you handed the rolled up bags to an excited Pav, bouncing on the balls of his feet with a litany of thank you so much, this is amazing on his tongue, and a hesitant Gwen, smiling despite being so strung-up to face Miguel. 

“Right… A next time…” you echoed, unsure if there’d even be a next time if Miguel had his way with things.

Everything was going wrong. 

Miguel went too far, as he often did in his tunnel-visioned haze for order, and trapped Miles in a laser cage, intending to keep him in Nueva York while his father died back in his home universe. A sick feeling curdled within the pits of your stomach—none of this felt right to you. Peter and Gwen were yelling at Miguel, their words washing over you in a blur, like the crashing and the retreat of a wave against an unsuspecting shore. 

You watched helplessly as Miles turned around, betrayal lacing heavily across his crestfallen features, staring at the people he had once considered his friends. For half a second, Miles caught your gaze. Anxious flowers—various shades of violet and scarlet—blossomed by your feet. To your side, your boyfriend held both his hands up, gaze fixed on Miles.

“Palms,” he silently mouthed. 

Heeding his advice, Miles pressed both his palms against the barrier.

And three beats of a heart later, he had broken free. A blast of energy pushed everybody back a few feet, and you could hear Hobie’s faint laughter echo right beside your ear. You couldn’t help but smile along with him. 

Someone had to look out for the little guy, right?

Apparently, Miguel had other ideas. He wasn’t a rational man. No, he was a perfectionist to the core, needing everything to go according to his plan, his theory, his ideology. When the stakes were this high, who was to say no to him? And now, he had somehow convinced nearly the entire population of the Spider Society to chase after a fifteen year old.

Then what? Lock him up? Force him away from his home and wait out his father’s death?

No. It wasn’t right. None of it was.

As pandemonium broke out during the chase after Miles, Hobie gave you a glance. “Just for the record, I quit,” he announced. It wasn’t directed at you, per se, but it was important to him that you knew of his stance. That he wouldn’t sit around and idly twiddle his thumbs at this bullshit. 

A portal opened behind him, bathing his dark skin in a bright clementine glow. He unclasped his watch and let it fall to the ground. “You coming, Cheeky?”

“I’ll meet you at your place,” you reassured him. An unspoken trust me hung heavy between you. A white little wildflower appeared in his hair, but Hobie didn’t move to pluck it away. Instead, he ducked his head to press a lasting kiss onto your forehead. You shot him a fond grin before leaning forward to peck his cheek in return, and hurriedly rushed off to go help Miles, canary-hued flowers floating behind you with every swing.

It was by pure chance that you happened upon Miles and Peter, the latter begging for him to hold his baby, which he most definitely shouldn’t have brought along to a chase. You hid behind a large metal pipe, waiting for Miles to leave Peter. It wasn’t long before Miles was running away again, believing his mentor had betrayed him once again, and you were quick to follow after him. Green webs shot out from the fixings on your wrist, and you caught up to the younger Spider in no time.

“Miles!” you exclaimed.

“Please, just let me go back home!” he yelled, stress and panic coiled around his words as he rounded around cars and signs.

Guilt settled around your lungs in a constricting manner. You’d lend him your watch to get home, but with a quick glance behind you, noting the several dozens of Spiders hot on your tail, you realized that there was no way that he’d make it there in time without them following after. There had to be another way.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” you replied, trying your best to convey that you were on his side. “Trust me, I’m with you on this! If not for you becoming Spider-Man, there’d be no Spider Society, and I would’ve never met Hobie. Of course I’d try to help you, Miles! Listen to me—there’s a bullet train that goes to the moon here—if you draw all the Spiders away from HQ, then you can use the Go-Home machine to get back to your universe!”

Miles shot you an initially dubious glance, which soon melded into one of cautious appreciation. “Where?”

“A couple miles that way! You won’t miss it—it’s a huge glass tube going up to space.” You nodded in the direction he was to be headed. “Good luck, Miles. I’m rooting for you!”

With a shout of his gratitude and a slight smile, Miles swung away from you. 

It’s a shame that this was goodbye. Both you and Hobie were really starting to grow on him.

It was raining again, as it almost always was in gloomy London. You were in bed with Hobie, having passed out after letting him know about how you helped Miles, and listening to him tell you about the watch he made for Gwen, knowing she’d most likely need it later down the line if things didn’t work out. He was taking up most of the space on the bed, one arm behind his head on the pillow and the other curved beneath the small of your waist, fingers splayed out over your stomach. Chests rising and falling in synchronized tandem, you were curled up onto your side so that your spine brushed against his side with each breath.

Nightmares weren’t a common thing for you, but when they did slink into your unconscious mind, they were always terrifyingly realistic, and always of the same event. Your canon event. 

Tonight was no different. 

Soft pink skies. Swinging through the trees after something—someone. Prowler. 

The forest gave way to steep mountains. Steep stones and ice and cliffs. The pink above you bled into a menacing shade of purple.

Nets of webbing shooting from your wrists. Desperation. Pleads on your tongue, but you didn’t quite know what you were saying. 

The villain tripped over the webbing, rolling down a mountainside that tapered off into a sheer drop. You darted forward, shooting out a web to catch the Prowler.

But it was too late. 

They tipped over the edge, stray pebbles tumbling down in their wake. If the Prowler screamed, you couldn’t hear it over the thrumming blood in your ears. 

It took over a minute for their body to hit the ground with a sickening thud. 

Horror stained your insides black. You weren’t quick enough. You failed.

You made your way down the mountain, wide eyes fixed on the motionless body. You crept forward, checking for a pulse. Dead. 

Gingerly, you peeled the mask away from their face. The hazy face of your best friend stared back up at you, beaten and bloody. 

Your fault, your fault, your fault—

You woke up with a gut-wrenching sob, jolting up with a broken wail. Hobie had startled from his slumber at the sudden commotion, quick to prop himself up on an elbow, his hand shooting out to properly wrap around you.

Comforting words were murmured into your hair. You only cried harder, gently pushing the blankets away from you, feeling overwhelmingly hot and crowded. It took you another moment to realize that you were hyperventilating, large flowers popping up everywhere around the two of you. 

“Breathe,” you could hear your boyfriend say, tracing slow circles along your lower back. “That’s it, love. You got this.”

After a few minutes, your breaths had slowed down, and the tears stopped flowing. You sniffled quietly, turning to Hobie with an apology on the tip of your tongue.

“Don’t apologize,” he said, seeming to know exactly what was on your mind. “You alright?”

“Nightmare,” you whispered in return, voice hoarse with disuse and thirst. “My canon event. It’s my fault Prowler died. My best friend.”

Another circle along your spine. “You wanna talk about it?”

Your eyes, puffy and red-rimmed, blinked back more cresting tears. You nodded, croaking out the tragic story of you and your best friend—the Spider and the Prowler. Hobie listened intently, humming soothingly into your skin. 

Once you were finished, he adamantly shook his head. “You can’t blame yourself for that. It’s not your fault.”

But it is, you wanted to say. You swallowed the words, deciding instead to remain quiet and simply lean further into his touch. 

“I love you,” he said, voice low and soothing. “You hear me, Cheeky?”

“I hear you. Thank you for… for always being there for me. You’re the punkest punk that’s ever punked.” 

A hum rumbled from his throat. “I’ll always be here for you. I trust you’ll do the same for me. We’re all broken, but… it’s a good thing we Spiders got sticky webs to keep us together, yeah?” A pause before Hobie backtracked, “That didn’t come out the way I intended it to but you get my point.”

You wrinkled your nose in amusement. “Yeah. I’m glad we found each other in all this chaos, Hobbes.”

“Mmh. Nothing better than a bit of chaos, innit?”

The two of you sat in silence for a bit longer, simply soaking in each other’s comforting presence. When you arched your neck to press a lasting kiss along the underside of Hobie’s jaw, you could feel his face shift with a fond smile. Before he could reciprocate the gesture, a tangerine glow shone from outside the window, warbling with the rain, but still a stark juxtaposition to the macabre grey of the city.

Both you and Hobie peered out of the window, limbs still tangled. 

Outside was Gwen, her cowl pulled over her uneven strands of blonde-pink hair, hexagonal portal rings shifting behind her. Her features were solemn and grim as she locked eyes with the both of you. You and Hobie glanced at each other. Small pink flowers started to bloom along the windowsill, much to your chagrin.

With not another second of hesitation, the two of you leapt out of bed, hastily yanking on your suits and swinging out of the window to join Gwen.

To join her in saving Miles Morales, and, ultimately, the multiverse.

[spid3rpunksimp]

May I request hobie x fem reader where they are friends but the reader is extremely affectionate to hobie? Could you make it where they soon end up dating? feel free to ignore and take care of yourself! Thanks 🙃

Now this is something I can do!

Masterlist

Hobie x fem! reader

Loving your friend

Being friends with Hobie was a crazy ride. And you loved it. He was all over the place and was always in for crazy things, being the "non-labeled" anarchist he is. And you loved it.

As you sat in your bed, staring at the ceiling, you couldn't get your mind from making you squeal and kick your feet. Thoughts of hugging, cuddling, kissing, and just possibly dating at some point filling your mind where nothing else could possibly come into your mind.

You decided it would just be best to go up to the roof of the apartment building you lived at and get some fresh air instead of sitting in your stuffy studio apartment.

As you pulled your phone off the charger and put on your jacket, you walked out the door of your room and began your journey to the roof. Walking down the halls, up the stairs, to the roof, and sitting on the edge of the building. Something you do often. It never really scared you, if anything, it made you think about the reasons why you aren't as depressed as you were a couple months back. But as you thought about it, you realized the main reason, was Hobie.

You looked down to the city below you, so much going on, at such a late time. Everything felt unreal as the cold winter air nipped at your nose as you took in a big, icy breath before letting it out. Sometimes you felt so at ease, you didn't even think of Hobie, but you were just so obsessed with him to the point where you barely got a break from him being on your mind. Closing your eyes, you felt the peace of being there, in the moment, hit you. The joy of having a friend who cared about you made the edges of your lips rise up.

however, you were interrupted briefly after by the sound of your phone going off, you didn't know who it was from this late. You looked at your phone and noticed the time first thing.

2:45 am

The next thing you noticed was who texted you, your eyes sparkling as soon as you read the name.

Hobie brown ❤️:New message.

Opening your phone you read the text message with a wide smile across your face, replying faster than you wanted to.

Hobie: Hey. U up?

You: , can't get sleep anymore it seems lmao

Hobie: Wanna come over? I got those cookies you like so much.

You: Hell yea! Be over in 10

You gave off a big smile while creating a fist near your face and pulling your arm back in victory. You got up and started walking down the steps, but this time all the way outside where you put a pep in your step as you began to walk over to Hobie's flat.

As you started your 8 minute walk to Hobie's place, you didn't know it, but he was watching you. The building right across from the one you were sitting at the top of had a great hiding spot, and he knew you were up the whole time. As Hobie swung a web over in the direction of where his flat was he couldn't help but smile under the mask. The happiness he saw on your face whenever he invited you over made him overwhelmed with a warm, fuzzy feeling. A feeling he didn't feel often. At least when he wasn't around you.

Knocking on his door you struck a pose, Knowing when he opened the door, he was expecting you to do that. You struck a new pose every time you came over. He pretended like he didn't know it was coming, but he always knew it was coming. And boy did he love it.

When he opened the door he let out a laugh as you stood there, making a jokingly stupid pose, holding up two peace signs as you stood up straight and gave him a side hug, how you usually greeted him. He let you in but not before feeling nervous, he never usually found being around a nerve racking thing. But tonight, yup, he got the nerves on.

As you walked in you went straight to the pantry, looking for the cookies he promised you. Obviously he put them in a basket, a basket of things for you. He always kept snacks in a basket so that you didn't eat all of his food that he had to spend all that time either shopping for or stealing.

Hobie turned around and walked over to the coach, slightly man spreading as his legs extended needing room to stretch out so he could be more comfortable. "Oi, bitch. Why do ya look so out of breath, did you just get back from a workout of some shit?" you said to Hobie as he looked over to you, as he tried to figure out what he could convince you with that he was doing. "I- uhh. I had to clean a bit, rushin' ya know." he responded calmly, and you believed it. You went to sit on the couch next to him (with you cookies) as he looked for a good TV channel to watch.

After finding a good channel you two sat on the couch together for hours. Eventually the sun threatened the dark, navy blue sky with its presence as Hobie looked over to your sleeping form as you began to wake up. Your eyes fluttering open. "How'd ya sleep?" he said to you as you yawned and stretched, the blanket he put over you last night falling off. "Alright" you said as you looked over to him, you swore you had hearts for eyes. Even in the morning this dude looked damn gorgeous in front of you.

"I was wondering," you were cut off in your train of thought by Hobie scratching the back of his neck, still looking at you, his beginning of a question making you perk up. "I was wondering if I could take ya out, 8 pm maybe, ya know." he said leaning back into the coach.

You looked over at him wide eyed. There ain't no way he just said that. You blinked twice. Was this real. I mean he seemed normal. Oh shit...this is real. You stuttered a bit, taken back by how he just put it out there, "Uhh- well- wow umm."

"If you don't want to you don't gatta." he said as he looked you in the eyes, you swear he had a little disappointment in there as well. "No. What I mean to say is yes, Hobie. That sounds brill."

*8:00 pm*

The two of you walked down the street, going to his destination. He brought you to a tea shop, he did say you didn't have to dress up, and you saw why. You were actually quite happy with the first date choice. The two of you sat there and talked for hours and the random things you could think of. Both of you couldn't take your eyes off of one another. Every second ticked by as words flew out of your mouths as you drank you tea. Laughter and smiles all around the room as people thought of how cute the two of you were, non stop talking apparently not bothering them as bad as you thought it would both people in Britain.

After the tea, the two of you went on a walk. Where? Who the hell knows, you sure didn't, but you didn't care. You two were having fun. You ding-dong ditched people, and tapped on people's windows. You walked around and acted drunk and you could swear you could fly right then and there.

"Alrighty, you're acting like you're all boozed-up." Hobie said with a chuckle as you walked to the door of your studio apartment. "Hobie, thank you for tonight." you said as you looked up at him after unlocking and slightly opening the door. "No problem, love. Next week, ya free."

You looked up at him and gave a gentle smile. You pushed yourself up on your tippie toes and kissed him on the check. "Yea', I'm free." you said as you walked into your apartment, closing the door behind you.

As Hobie walked out of the apartment complex, he thought about what you just did. And as he gave a toothy grin, placing his hands in his pockets and walking back to his place. He knew, you where the person he thinks he might make an exception to him "no-labels" rule.

I hope this is okay, I honestly didn't know what to write it just sounded too cute. I'm so sorry if it isn't what you were wanting or expecting.

Thank you for the request.

[cyberg4n]

✧ 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐊

paring: hobie brown x gn!reader

warnings: nothing rlly, just fluff and cheesy romance lol

a/n: made this for my friend so it might be a litttleee bad

summary: hobie sneaks into your room, waking you up from your sleep.

you flip around in your sheets, shielding yourself from the cold air escaping into your bedroom from the slightly open window. you bury your head into the pillow, dozing off into a deep sleep. as you roll around, a loud thud is heard from your rooftop — then follows a series of footsteps coming down towards the stairs outside your apartment. the window opens wider with a quiet squeak while a pair of boots hits the floor. you cover your head with the blanket. hobie chuckles, making an effort to walk over to you quietly, and slowly. he sits on the edge of your bed making sure to remove his jacket and shoes.

“hey,” he whispers as he leans into you. you don’t budge. his large hand travels to your arm, shaking you slightly. “love,” he whispers out again. you whine in protest. he laughs, sliding his hand down to your back. you turn your head, squinting into the darkness. “hobie?” you mumble. “mhm.” he says with a grin. “didn’t know you were goin’ to be asleep.” you shrug as you turn your whole body to face him. you scoot over to the wall, patting the empty spot next to you softly. he snickers as he settles himself next to you. he plants kisses from your forehead, then to your nose, your cheek, quickly to your lips, and all the way to your neck. you giggle at the sensation, pushing his shoulders away from you, teasingly. “i missed you,” he mutters as he hugs your waist. “really?” he looks down at you, jokingly furrowing his brows with a large frown. “yes, of course i missed you.”

you kiss him on the lips, “i missed you more.” he shakes his head. “i doubt that.” you roll your eyes, you take a moment to pull him closer, hugging him tightly. you listen to the faint heartbeat in his chest. his hand comes up to stroke the back of your neck. he leans down to kiss you again. you rub your eyes, yawing quietly. “i got no sleep last night,” he tilts his head, “mm, why’s that?” you look back up at him, “because your god awful band kept me awake aaallll niighhttt.” you mumbled, dragging out the last words. he laughs, “please, you love my band.” you hum in response. although you had been dating hobie for a while, you still had the same nervous knot in your stomach everytime he entered a room. the longer you looked into his eyes, the faster your face seemed to heat up. you turn away, hiding your smile into his shoulder. “what?” he chuckles. you shake your head, just laying in his arms quietly.

the peaceful ambience from the streets of london rattled against your open window, filling the room with the much needed noise. “you know, this is nice,” he said, his voice soft in the quiet room. you turned to him, meeting his gaze. “yea,” you replied, feeling a blush start to creep across your cheeks. “i’m glad we're doing this,” he said, looking at you with a small smile. you giggle awkwardly, “doing what, laying in the same bed?” he laughs sarcastically in response to your question. “no, no, i meant i’m glad we’re together like this. it’s…” he stops for a minute to think about his words. “…intimate,” you raise an eyebrow. “intimate?” you repeat back. “yeah, you know — i mean we’re cuddling, just yapping our ass off about how much we love each other.”

you both stare at each other for a moment, neither of you able to look away. “i’m the luckiest guy in the universe,” he said, breaking the silence. you beamed, feeling your heart beat in your chest, your hands resting on the back of his neck. “i can see you sweating.” he whispers. you scoff, “stop it, you’re ruining the mood.” he grins, leaning down in one swift movement, his parted lips found yours, and you melted into the kiss. you both laid there, absorbing each others presence, warm bodies pressed up against one another. his large hands roam around your body, softly squeezing at your waist. you wrap your arms around his shoulders in an attempt to get even closer. the space between you had disappeared — and only the faint noises of sighs escaped your mouths. when you finally pulled away, you both lay across each other, breathing heavily. “see what i mean? you’re too good for me.” he gives you a sly grin.

you couldn't help but return his smile. “yea, okay,” you replied, feeling content and love struck. your relationship with hobie seemed to have strengthened after the kiss you two had shared. you both curled up together, hobie holding you tightly as you drifted off back to sleep.

please do not copy or repost my writings to any other sites !

[aureliaporter]

nurse for the night

summary: hobie's gotten into some bad fights before, but today he decides to crash at yours.

a/n: yes i know my first piece was hobie and yes i do love hobie very much and yes i know this may seem a little bit rushed so i am very sorry for that

cw: lowercase intentional, calls reader "mother hen", mentions of injuries, pain, stitches, blood, holding a pillow over a mouth

WHEN YOU GOT the knock on your window, you didn't really know what to expect.

of course hobie had dropped by before, whether to say hi or to invite you swinging with him. but never this late. so when you peered out the window and saw him waiting, you couldn't help but frown.

"is everything alright?" were the first words out of your mouth as he slipped in through your now-opened window. he gave you a teasing grin that looked more like a grimace, and chuckled softly.

"you're a real mother hen, ain't ya? can't a guy stop by just to say hi?" he asked, sounding halfway amused. you narrowed your eyes when you saw him clutching his side, reaching out to brush your fingers across his arm before looking back at him with an accusing frown.

"you overdid it again, didn't you? got in one too many fights, and now you're hurt," you said, fingers closing around his wrist as you tugged him to sit on your bed. "stay," you said, opening your closet to look for your first aid kit.

"'m not no dog of yours," he grumbled, staying put either way. "i just needa couple of your bandages, 'nd i'll be off. no stress."

you rolled your eyes, shutting your closet door with your foot as you made your way back to the bed. "sure. take off the shirt, let's see how bad it is," you said, ignoring the teasing look he sent you.

"oh? won't ya take me out to dinner first?" he said, tugging his shirt up and off. you were momentarily distracted by his form, your cheeks warming, before you saw the trickles of blood along his skin and snapped out of it.

"i'll get you your dinner after i'm certain you won't bleed out," you said simply, popping open the first aid kit and stretching out your arms, then grabbing an antiseptic wipe. "say your prayers; this is gonna hurt."

his eyes widened slightly at the wipe in your hands, and you swore you saw him gulp. "y-yeah, as if," he said, casting his glance to the side. "do your worst."

you bit your lip to stifle a chuckle, leaning forward to touch the wipe to his injured skin. immediately he was tensing, a pained groan escaping his lips and an arm shooting up to catch your wrist.

"w-wait," he gasped, trembling slightly. your eyes widened. he must've been in a lot more pain than he'd let on to be reacting this way.

"breathe, hobes," you said, switching the antiseptic to your other hand. "you can scream into my pillow if you need to, but just breathe. i'll be done soon."

he nodded, releasing your wrist in a jerking motion and grabbing your pillow to hold to his mouth. as you continued cleaning his wounds, you could feel his muscles, taut like a wire, beneath the touch of the wipe.

it was merely for a few minutes, but to hobie it felt like hours. and then you were cleaning the blood off with a wet tissue and then bandaging his wounds. the deeper gash on his side would need stitches, that was for sure, but you knew your hands would shake too much.

"you've done so well, hobes," you murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek. he was all bandaged up now, a cotton pad and a bandaid over the large gash - you would either tackle it tomorrow or get him to the hospital. "good job. you wanna eat?" you offered, tugging the pillow off his face.

he looked almost delirious - from pain or lack of oxygen from how hard he held the pillow to his face, you'd never know.

"mhm.." he hummed, blinking up at you. he raised an arm to you, tugging at your shirt. "thanks, (y/n)," he mumbled. so he's still coherent, thank god.

"let's get you that dinner then? i can do a quick sandwich, if you want."

he nodded, sitting up tiredly and leaning against you, long arms wrapped around you and preventing you from getting up. "yes, please.. sounds good."

you hummed, patting his back. "c'mon, then."

this feels so rushed and i am so very sorry but i just didn't know where else to go with this 😭 doing my best i promise

hope you enjoyed a tiny bit!! have a great night!! <3

[turquoizxe]

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Hobart “Hobie” Brown x Spider!Fem!Reader 

Author’s Note: I am back in my hometown! And I will do my best to release the remaining installations within the next week or so! So great to see you all again, and here is the third installment of ‘Just For You’. Please keep in mind that if you are apart of the ‘Mature’ audience (16+), this is considered the final part of ‘Just For You’, as the last two installments include adult themes. You’ll spend all your time with Hobie in this installment since I integrated so much plot into the series, I hope you enjoy :))

With Love,

— Turquoizxe.

Installation (3/5) : ‘Chuffed’

‘Just For You’ Masterlist for previous/future installations

Rating ― Mature (17+)

➝ After that night, you gave your situation a deep thought, but knowing Hobie best, he knew how to win you over. What better way to make up for lost time other than spending an entire day together?

���𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ― Fluff overload, college student and Spiderwoman duties!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ― Some serious topics (mentions of death, reader opens up about her time in HQ *’friend’s name remains anonymous so you can insert a friend of your own), angst, small use of foul language, suggestive comments, finals week (uni students iykyk), kissing (nothing too spicy)

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 — 3.8k

Chuffed; pleased or happy

Deciphering your feelings was such a hard thing to do when it came to romance. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve felt this way about anybody, or if you have at all. Hobie Brown has always been such a stoic individual, but that seemed to fade away the more time he spent with you — and he welcomed it with open arms.

You adored one another, there was no doubts about it. After confessing, he didn’t give you a reason to doubt that, but there was a bigger problem that lingered when he confessed to you. He wasn’t from your world, and you weren’t sure how it would work. And as much as you wanted him around, you weren’t sure if it would be in a way that either of you wanted.

And here he is, staying at your place for the night after you trespassed into the University’s lab. Just moments earlier, sharing a rather heated moment before you realized you had to keep composure about yourself before you made that decision. Whether you think it was possible to be with him, and as much as you desired it — you weren’t sure if reality would prevail. 

You had changed into pajamas, an obnoxiously oversized shirt, with shorts underneath, sitting on the couch as you awaited for his return. You already had your television set to your series you watched together, snacks waiting to be consumed on the coffee table in front of you. Hobie went back to his Earth to grab some of his belongings for the overnight stay, casually using his watch to transport back into your living room.

Hobie called your name for the third time, waving his hand in front of you to catch your attention, not realizing that you were lost in your thoughts.

“Oi, didn’ lose you did I?” The tall punk chuckled, taking a seat next to you, and his clothes also changed into something more comfortable. He grabbed the bucket of popcorn once you had pressed the play button. Shyly, you took a seat closer to him, he softly smiled down at you, but you weren’t able to see if due to your eyes being glued to the screen in front of you both. Don’t get it twisted, you were very happy that he was here with you. Only, considering the circumstances and the fact that you confessed to him just moments ago, you almost forgot how to behave normally. The atmosphere had visibly changed, and these new feelings that he was now fully aware of made it even more awkward. Mostly, for you.

Hobie has wanted you for a while now, but he always looked to you for confirmation. He didn’t want to scare you away. He could tell you wanted to come closer, but you seemed too anxious.

You looked down to where his hand was traveling— sneaking closer to where your back rested, and you looked up at him, his eyes searching for your permission. You wanted this so bad, but there were so many conflicts you weren’t sure of. Hobie was more than determined to rid of those in any way possible, starting small. You gave a small nod, but he tilted his head, signalling for verbal confirmation.

“Go..ahead.”

He smirked, gently wrapping his arm around you, and took it upon your self to cuddle closer into his side, letting your fears go away. You had thought about this for the past month; how could you work this out when you’re literally from two different planets?

But if he can teleport into your apartment at any given time, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad to manage.

For the next hour, you had watched your series in such a comfortable silence, and you could (unfortunately) count the times on your fingers how often you and Hobie shared your time together with no interruptions. Though, you still felt that small part of your brain, eagerly waiting for his monitor to beep or vibrate annoyingly as if he didn’t mute the device in front of you.

The man you dare to call your boyfriend is in the Spiderverse, saving the world, and you slightly felt bad for wanting to be selfish for once and spend time with him. The world could be ending at this very moment, but you wouldn’t feel bad if you died spending time with your—

Boyfriend? Would he even call you his girlfriend? He’s never been big on labels, and to no surprise, you are the opposite. Putting labels puts your mind at ease, knowing that you have confirmation of what you see and what you feel.

“You don’ have t’be so scared, [Name].”

You hadn’t realized how fidgety you happen to get when you get too intimate with your thoughts. You had long forgotten the plot of the episode that was playing on your screen, softly biting your lip. You could feel his eyes on you, so you looked up. His orbs were glossed over with love, his hand caressing your hips to soothe you. He leaned over to the coffee table, grabbing the remote to pause the show. You watched his every move, setting the snacks aside. He moved, his front facing yours. 

He could tell you had a lot on your mind, and if you were going to be together, he always wants to make sure that his girl is heard. 

“Let’s chat, yeah?”

“About what,” you scoffed, beginning to look away again, until you feel his hand softly guide your face to look back at him. You sighed, knowing that there wasn’t any way to escape this. 

“What if...we don’t work?”

“I’m willin’ to take that chance w’you,” he quips, his hand placing over yours, giving it a soft squeeze to loosen your doubts, but you didn’t mean it in the way that he thinks.

“No Hobie ― we’re from two different worlds, you don’t think this is disrupting a canon somehow,” your voice is barely above a whisper, softly chuckling at what you thought was a weak attempt at a joke, but Hobie could see you shaking. 

“Oh, come out of it.” He pulls you toward him like you’re weightless, gasping at his sudden movement. He held you, your legs resting on either side of him. You don’t remember being this close to him outside of his lips attached to you. 

“If searchin’ outside of my world mean’ I ge’to meet a peng ting like you, then that’s my canon,” he exclaims, arms wrapped so tightly around you, as if he was scared to let you go. You felt his lips on you once more, softly whimpering as he suckled on your collarbone, traveling to your cheeks, the metal on his lips cooling your skin as Hobie plants a soft kiss on your nose. You couldn’t help but giggle at the gesture. 

“You’re my girl, yeah?”

Oh, how you’ve longed to hear those words, nearly melting into his embrace once they spilled from his lips. You felt a smile spread across your face, and a smirk from him followed, his hands caressing your hips, awaiting for your the answer that he was confident in. 

“As long as you’re my guy.”

Before you knew it, the asscrack of dawn made its appearance. The sun shined shamelessly from your window, nearly blinding you the moment you opened your eyes, quickly closing them back shut, turning in the opposite direction, feeling a warmth wash over you. 

You didn’t think he’d still be here, Hobie’s arm hung over your waist, his fingertips softly grazing the skin under your shirt. He felt your movements, taking the opportunity to kiss tenderly along your neck. Your hand grabbed to where his were placed in your shirt, tempted to stay in bed when you knew you both had things to do. 

“Mornin’,” he cooed, pulling you closer, continuing to smother you in kisses. You groaned in response, prying his hands off you, and sitting up on the bed. 

“We gotta get up Hobs.” His back was turned to you when you looked back, and scoffed at you being responsible. Saturday mornings were your favorite, no classes, little to no responsibilities. If finals weren’t 48 hours away, you would’ve happily stayed in bed with your boyfriend. You superhero duties and other distractions left your notes unattended on your work desk.

You had tidied up your room a bit, not necessarily dirty, but not clean either―  disheveled to say the least. Hobie used his arm as leverage, admiring you and he continued to lay in bed, watching you pick up the remaining clothing and tossing them into a hamper near your bedroom door. You glanced at him from time to time while you made your room look presentable, taking note that he was enamored with your ass. He was so glad you didn’t wear many clothes to bed. 

You exit your bedroom to start freshening up for the day, your lover groaning and questioning why you couldn’t stay in bed for another hour at his expense. You were tempted beyond words to stay in for a while longer, but you needed to study. And you needed to keep those scholarships. 

“I need to do well on my exams, Hobie. Our little adventure last night didn’t necessarily include me actually having time to study,” you huff out. The hours were beginning to weigh in on you again, having so much, yet so little time until you had to take a painfully long exam that determined the rest of your academic career. You felt so sure, but now that the walls are closing in, you feel the doubt creep its way in. Hobie sees the worry on your face when you come back into your room, and glances over at your poorly scribbled notes from last night where you were also looking. 

He arose from the comfort of your bed, walking towards you as he placed his hands around your hips. 

“I know how importan’ this is f’you, if you wan’, I can stay and help you study?”

Honestly, he could care less about you studying, he just wanted to spend more time with you. You could drop out right now and the man wouldn’t even bat an eye. But he knew where your heart lies, and your education was always first, he knew that almost better than anyone else [your parents]. His heart nearly melted at the twinkle in your eyes when he brought up the idea. That is until you brought up the Spot situation.

“I thought you’d be off at HQ by now?”

“I couldn’ give a rats ass what they do righ’ now, bu’ I promise they have everythin’ covered, love.”

Hobie’s overwhelming stature hovered over you as he placed his arms around you, and lifting you from the ground, your face now leveled with his.

“Let’s spend the day togetha’. Jus’ you and me.” 

Never in a million years did you think that you would be granted to spend an entire day with your favorite person. Even as extreme as his beliefs when it comes to the education system, he was willing to spend an entire day to help you study for your exams. If that wasn’t true love, then you weren’t sure of anything else. 

Hobie cooked you breakfast that morning, your favorite. Showering you with kisses when you began to get ready for the day, and packing your supplies. You knew for a fact that studying at home was not an option. You have tried, but there are way too many distractions in the comfort of your own home. Your television, your bed, your switch, your bed, literally anything else, your bed. You always made sure to study in your campus library, but not without grabbing your morning drink at the coffee shop before heading over. Being organized was a big part of your life, and it would fall apart if your agenda was not in your backpack at all times. 

Hobie, being himself, made it his mission to make sure that you didn’t have to rely on transportation, masked up and ready to go, eager to carry you like a backpack, but you insisted on walking like you usually do (*you did not want to make national news that a college student was dating a Spiderman from another universe). He didn’t mind the decision much, he liked hearing how organized you were, and what you had planned for today. 

You thanked the gods above that you somehow found a study room in your library, rarely being able to snag one, no matter what time of the day it was. You had set out your belongings so precisely, Hobie could tell within a heartbeat that you were serious about this. He could almost feel your determination when a stack of cards were in front of his face. 

“After I review these lectures, I need you to recite every definition to me, and I have to state the term correctly,” you explain, powering your laptop, a concerning amount of tabs open the moment you log in. Just for a moment, he regretted offering to help you study.

“All 150 of them.”

Scratch that, he’d be overjoyed if you dropped out right now.

You spent what felt like an eternity reviewing presentation and lectures. And Hobie made it his mission to make sure you took breaks every hour, with hints of teasing here and there. He was astounded that your brain wasn’t fried from all the information you were forced to retain for a piece of paper that likely only had 30 questions on it. Oh, his innocent mind, you wanted nothing more than to go back to the comforts of your bed, with your boyfriend peppering you with kisses. Once it was time for you to review the terms, you were sure that Hobie was more stressed than you as he read the definitions out loud to you. You were anxious as he read them out to you, but you are determined to pass your finals. And Hobie believed you could. 

Moments eerily passed by as he read out sentences to you, you responding with your terms that were placed out on a separate sheet. Some you answered confidently, and others, not so much. Otherwise, your ‘correct’ pile was significantly higher than the ‘incorrect’. You just had to be confident in what you knew, and there was no shame in that. 

You nervously counted the ones you got correct, and calculating the accuracy while doing so. 

“What do you need to pass, dove?”

“75.”

You placed the final cards aside, grinning at your final score, jumping up and down with such a joy you haven’t felt in a long time.

“90!” You exclaimed, jumping in Hobie’s arms, earning a chuckle from him, a kiss on the cheek, and more words of affirtmation, he knew that you could do it. But he wanted you to believe that more than anything. 

After that review, you spent a little more time reviewing your incorrect answers before calling it a day for studying. You had agreed to let Hobie sling you back home to avoid the afternoon traffic, which gave you the idea to do some patrolling while he’s still here. You could probably knock out more crime in half the time with him here. You weren’t as on edge about this if you were both in your Spidersuits, and no one would have any ideas of your identity. 

So, you fought off bad guys with your boyfriend, and you couldn’t remember the last time patrol was a fun experience for you. Tripping shoplifters with webbed traps, flying across town, civilians in awe of you and the other fellow that followed closely behind. You were more than sure that news outlets would ask about your relationship, the possibility of another Spiderman, and you also knew that Miguel was likely watching, pissed that Hobie was in another world making himself known, and boy did the proud punk love the thought of it. 

You swung back to the top of your apartment after patrol, looking at the evening sky above you as the day began to slowly come to a close. Your feet dangled from the edge of the building, that deep feeling in the pit of your stomach growing stronger as Hobie held you close, deepening the kiss. Yes, you did in fact finish patrolling a little early so you two could makeout. The law enforcement were rather relieved that you both disappeared, as Hobie’s appearance awed  hundreds of paparazzi’s and fans to follow you around on your patrol adventures, making traffic even more aggravating. 

Hobie tugged on your lip, pratically begging for your permission, tongue making an effort to latch onto yours. It’s torture the way you tease him, but he also thought that maybe there was another catch here. Your passionate moment came to a halt after Hobie’s watch let out a chime, a feeling of dread flashing across your face, your boyfriend finding amusement in your pain.

“I fuckin’ love it when you get mad.”

You knew you couldn’t get too comfortable with his company. He sat up and chuckled, checking on whatever notification was sent. You propped up on your elbows, watching closely at his movements, but he never got up.

“No worries. We’ve still got time to kill.”

Your eyes were still glued to his watch, Hobie’s eyes following yours before opening his mouth. 

“You never told me about your time in HQ.”

“I don’t think there’s any need to,” you quip, arising dramatically, and dropping from the building to web back into your bedroom, the tall Brit following right behind you, sensing the dramatic change in the mood. This wasn’t an easy topic for you, after the intervention with Miles, he had an idea that you time in the Spiderverse wasn’t the best, but he didn’t want you to hide from him. 

You stood behind your kitchen counter, staring at him intensely, awaiting for a smart ass remark from him that never came. 

“After what I told Miles, I thought you wouldn’t bring it up.”

“No one likes talking about their canon, but I thought that we could get past thi―“

“No, Hobie,” you were quick to cut off, becoming aggravated, but still speaking softly, trying to remain neutral. You didn’t like speaking about your canon. 

You look away, determined to not let him see your small smile before beginning to speak again. If he knows everything else, why keep this a secret.

“I was in the Spiderverse HQ for a year.”

Hobie lets out a whistle, quickly understanding why this situation possibly weighed heavier on you. The man couldn’t give less of a fuck about HQ, only joining to look out for Gwen, and kept to himself if it wasn’t her, Pav, or other bandmates he was hanging with.

“I had a friend from my childhood...and I cared about them alot,” you started, feeling the tears already start to spill from your face as you reminiscence on the memories you shared together in the Spiderverse.

“When I joined the Spiderverse, I had been sent on a mission, where I found them in another world, where they were a Spiderperson and I was not. We got close really fast.” 

“On of our missions, their canon event happened, and lost both of their parents in an accident.”

“One night, we snuck into Miguel’s lab and went to figure out how to travel to another dimension where their parents were alive.” You felt shivers travel down your spine, the more you began to explain to him, Hobie already aiding to you as you hid in his arms, softly sobbing, but willing to continue.

“The moment they were caught playing the role of their other self, they wanted to find a way to get out, but it was too late.” At this point, you were sobbing uncontrollably, Hobie finding your last few words unintelligible as you tried to ecth them out through your dry throat.

“I couldn’t get them out of the Universe in time, and in return, their original Universe also fell apart, and they went missing in mine. Miguel found out, and kicked me out of the league.”

Hobie quite literally had no response that was appropriate for the situation that occured. So he did what he did best, he held you close, whispering soft coos and telling you not to worry. It shocked you when Miguel disclosed to Miles that he also tried your method at one point, which is why he was so taken aback by your actions. 

“You have such a big heart, [Name], you couldn’ have known the outcome.”

“But I did!” you exclaim, pulling away from him. You expressed how the entire situation gave you a queasy feeling, but because it was your friend, and you wanted them to have their family back. You saw how much it tore them apart, and you ignored your gut. Not a day goes by where you don’t blame yourself that you lost your bestfriend. 

You were somewhat indifferent that you told Hobie your big secret, the day was so perfect; why did he have to ruin it by asking that fucking question.

“I know tha’ was rough to tell me, but I’m here for you, and anythin’ you may need.”

Hobie walked back up to your figure, begrudgingly staring down at your feet once more, feeling his fingers intertwine with yours, and making you look up at him like he always does. 

For what felt like an eternity, the burdens and chains that held onto you were released. If there’s one thing Hobie knew how to do, it was to wash away your doubts. You were almost sure that he was in every right to call you a maniac for what happened to your best friend. You felt his arms wrap around you tenderly once more, embracing his stature with open arms.

Your moment, as always, was cut with a beep from his watch, but the emergency chime was going off. You knew for sure that Hobie had to leave you, you whined, squeezing him for more comfort. Hobie sighed softly, apologizing, but he had to go. For what it’s worth, you were glad you got to spend an entire day with him. 

He opened a portal, looking back before stepping forward.

“Since I spen’ an entire day in your world, why not come in mine?”

You almost felt your heart explode into pieces. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bittersweet end to your day together. 

“We’re performin’ after your finals week, I’ll come pick you up― I already have a seaprate section f’you.” Hobie loved the smile that plastered on your lips the more he kept talking. He’d would absolutely ignore the call if it wasn’t an emergency.

“For me, huh?”

“Jus’ for you.”

As always, please leave comments below on the series and if you’re enjoying it so far, god I’ve missed writing so much, all love to Sony and Hobie for breaking me out of my hiatus. 

For the mature audience, I really hope you enjoyed my series, and don’t hesitate to leave any comments, and even requests if you have any!

For my adult audience; let the horniness begin

TAGLIST!

@clear-your-mind-and-dream​ | @m00nglad3-mp3 | @imthesadsad | @kezibear | @naiomiirayn | @a-little-pebbl | @read4funz | @iwanttohitmyself| @tears0fstars| @greatstudentbird| @thatmaladaptivedaydreamer| @darkphantommagazine​| @vickyzangels| @cupcakekiss| @roseluxxx| @von-studios| @xoxobabe

[murdrdocs]

god ur so right walk of shame from hobie’s boat.,.. ur terrible at stepping off the boat onto the ground and wobble and almost fall and u swear u can hear his boat neighbours giggling at u a little (in a good way)

stop omg gn!

most of what you're wearing isn't what you arrived in. hobie's shirt, his boxers, and your shoes from last night which are ten times more uncomfortable now than they were just 12 hours ago, when you were tipsy and incredibly horny for the hot guy with wicks laughing with a few friends.

he's behind you, reflecting the smell that's somehow cemented itself into your skin even though you were only there for a few hours. you're sure your previous outfit, wherever it may be in the house boat, will reek of hobie brown when (if, truly) it's recovered.

"i'll give you a ring?" he's asking you, but you're so dizzy from the slight rock of the boat and the hangover and the insanely impractical shoes, so you're too busy focusing on making it to the dock that you say, "huh", before you truly hear him, the repeat of the phrase becoming clear in your head.

"yeah. i'd like that." you say over your shoulder, sure that your foot will reach the dock and not the small gap between. but your depth perception is a little off as it turns out and your foot connects with air, leading to you tripping a little, a small squeal leaving your lips until your foot finds the dock.

you try to play it off, clearing your throat and walking off of the boat and back onto land with a confident pep in your step. but you hear hobie snickering behind you, and then if that isn't bad, a posh voice comes off to your right.

"dear, it happens all the time, you wouldn't believe it." and when you look over, you see an older lady, sitting on her version of the porch, drinking out of a mug. she smiles politely, sending a wave with her wrinkled hand, one you shyly return.

as you walk away, you hear hobie's enthusiastic greeting ("morning, margaret" even though it’s 2 in the afternoon) and the low chatter of the two making plans is what soundtracks your walk towards the road, in search of a cab back home.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼

Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??

First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣

Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…

Part 2

You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.

‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.

He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.

For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.

‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’

‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.

‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.

‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’

He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.

‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.

‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.

Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’

Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.

‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.

As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.

[eternalslover]

STOP THIS WAS SO CUTE

Arachnid Anxiety

You're Spider-Woman, and you've been tasked with babysitting Mayday. Maybe you have a bit of stress that you need to vent about, and Hobie comes along quite conveniently for that purpose.

Genre: Fluff, reader having anxiety, Hobie giving her advice, very cute, reader is a Jessica Drew variant, perhaps mutual pining if you squint, takes place during the movie but before Miles arrives to the Society, terrible british slang attempts (sorry Hobie :'))

Word Count: 2.4k

Babies are hard to wrangle when they’re crawling up walls.

Of course, Peter B. Parker said that he needs a nap, just this once, and he needs someone to watch over Mayday while he sneaks away into the sleeping pods in the Spider-Society-System. Sometimes he and MJ don’t get sleep for days at a time, so you get it.

But Mayday is so curious, and you find yourself having to pull her prying hands away before she inadvertently tampers with things around Miguel’s labs and causes either a mass outage or a explosion or Miguel’s wrath. You understand why Peter is a little exhausted.

She’s a very cute baby, though, and you can’t help but coo at her as she clambers off the wall into your arms. 

“Who’s a good Spidey? Who’s gonna be the best of us?” You shake her up and down and she giggles, wrapping her arms around you. 

You instinctively flinch, feeling your Spider-Sense go off.

“Large statement to make. But I see where you’re coming from.” Spider-Punk comes up from behind you, and you turn to him. “She’s definitely punk.”

“Hey, don’t go claiming someone else’s kid as one of your own.” You joke, and Hobie scowls as he pulls off his mask.

“Don’t believe in claims. Or labels, for that matter.” He scratches his hair, looking effortless as he ever does, and you roll your eyes. “She is… who she is. Forgive me for using a descriptive word, Spider-Woman.”

“I get it.” You hold Mayday as she squeals at the sight of Hobie, and she motions in an uppy-uppy motion. She wants to be held by him, but he ignores her.

You never quite know how to feel about Hobie Brown. The Amazing Spider-Punk is revolutionary, known for being better than just his words– he holds himself to the very essence of anarchy. He practices what he preaches.

But you can’t quite get a read on the guy. You don’t know if he’s pulling your leg– or taking the piss as he would say– when he gives his bouts of advice while somehow simply being amazing through it all. He somehow knows what to say but he also isn’t the most comforting, and that in itself makes you drawn to him. He just happens to be kind of rough around the edges, and it’s because of that you know he truly means what he says. 

No sugar-coating, ever.

But you hate yourself, because you’ve somehow managed to fall for him. 

It’s not uncommon for Spideys to fall for each other. Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy. But you know this is the one time it just wouldn’t end well for you.

You can already hear Hobie’s comments if he ever found out. He’d probably rebuke you even though you’d never try anything. Tell you he doesn’t feel that way and you’re delusional for potentially thinking that he would ever tie himself down. Spiders are meant to be swinging free and all that.

Even worse, he just happens to be beautiful. You’re positive that if Hobie wasn’t so anti-everything he would have stuck with being a runway model. His face is molded in a distinctive way that has you trying to catch his glance, even if he only looks at you with nonchalance, completely unbothered, not a hint of chemistry in his eyes.

It is with great displeasure that you find yourself wanting his bored attention anyways.

And so you’ve been swallowing your crush for the greater part of a year now. You’re sure it will pass like all things do.

Pavitr, as much as you love him, has told you many times about the “chemistry” between you and Hobie– and you have told him every time to fuck off. Not in an actual harsh way, because again you can’t help but love the guy, but because you don’t need false hope.

You’re just Spider-Woman. Another red-and-yellow suited variant of Jessica Drew, you might as well just be another Peter Parker. You know that’s not how you’re supposed to think of yourself, but it’s just how it is. Canon events brought you here, and according to Miguel, it’s not something you chose– you just happened to be there at the right time and place. You’re no Jess, who comes in on her motorcycle, raging heat and excitement on her toes– you are one of the many, instead of being exceptional like the few.

You’re not like Hobie, who is as far as you know, one of a kind.

“What’s on your mind, Spider-Woman?” Hobie asks as he picks through random tech on the desk in Miguel’s lab, taking what he feels is useful for whatever it is he does with the stuff. He’s never used your name, because he doesn’t know it.

You and a few other Spider-People have chosen to stay anonymous, for different reasons, and only Miguel and Margo know who you really are. Hobie has told you before that that’s pretty cool– he only chose to give up his name because it was easier to get along with people that way. Hobie knows there’s power in people.

“Just babysitting. Obviously.” You motion to Mayday, who takes this moment to thwip out a web and swing away from you– but you’re faster and you grab her back into your arms, and she pouts.

“Nah, nah. I mean that sour expression upon your lovely little visage, imbecile.” He pokes your masked cheek, and you find yourself blushing but pulling away from him. Hobie is like that– overly familiar and no real sense of space because he doesn’t care.

“It’s not lovely.” You retort, fully convinced of it because he has never seen your face, only your incredulous expression through the eyes of your mask. 

You think that Hobie is again being sarcastic about your unknown appearance, and because his back is facing yours as he searches through random shelves now, you don’t catch how his face frowns at your response.

“Disagreements about your anonymous-but-surely beautiful face aside– not that looks matter, mind you– you’re clearly miffed about something.” Hobie turns and crosses his arms, and it’s with a little embarrassment and comfort that you want his advice. Even if it’s kind of to do with him.

“Well, I guess, uh… lately I’ve just been feeling kind of down. Like what’s the point of all this?” You bite your lip, knowing Hobie’s feelings on nihilism. “I don’t mean like nothing in life matters, Hobie. I mean more that I don’t matt– I don’t… anyways, I feel useless. I don’t have anything special about me, I don’t really bring anything to the Spider-Society that wasn’t already brought.”

"Whoa whoa whoa. Nah, lady, you've got your priorities all twisted." Hobie pulls your arms, bringing you kind of closer to him, and rests his hands on your shoulders, making you listen. "This inner hatred stuff– that sick urge to feel shame and then blast it inside of yourself, all that repression, yeah? It's a crock of shit."

"Huh?" You and Mayday both peer up at him. You behind your mask, and she with her crocheted one. 

Hobie picks up Mayday, finally giving into her wishes to be held by him, and she immediately giggles. There’s a subtle smile on his face that warms him to you a little.

"It might feel good in the moment. It might even feel revolutionary." Hobie scowls, and scratches his jaw. "It's worthless. Notice, Spider, I didn't call you worthless. The very action is garbage, a visceral thing that brings no productive value– that's what they want you to feel."

"Ah, because then I'll never fight against the establishment, right, Hobie? I'll be too busy fighting myself." You say mockingly, taking on a fake-pretentious-Cockney accent, mimicking him, but Hobie gives you a chill look and nods.

"Now you're getting it."

"Aw." You slump and slouch and sit on the counter full of gadgets and gizmos next to him. "I know you're right, but… don't you ever get people getting mad at you?"

"You've lost me."

"Like… being so responsible." You roll your eyes as Hobie snickers and whispers the spider-mantra you all know so well. "Or just living by your own ideology so… efficiently. It's almost like a slap in the face to the rest of us Spiders. We don’t know how to cope, and here comes along Spider-Punk with all his personal assurance that even if things aren't alright, he'll make it alright for himself."

"Oi, trust me, it wasn't all that easy." Hobie sniffs and sits down next to you, holding Mayday close and then letting her go as she crawls onto the wall in front of you. "You really think I haven't had a bad day? I haven’t had my moments of self doubt, huh?”

“Uh… well. When you put it like that, it does sound kind of crazy.” You admit, and nudge him with your shoulder. “I didn’t mean any harm, Hobie. I just feel so… inadequate.”

“Just stop.” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, and you feel that yet again, he’s somewhat unreadable. “Don’t think those things. You’re not inadequate.”

“But I–”

“Stop.” He grasps your hands, and squeezes them tightly in his own, and you wonder if Hobie has ever looked this seriously at you, his eyes soft yet firm with affection.

You’re in trouble, you think. Your heart is pounding and you’re really glad he can’t see your face.

“I don’t think you know how important you are.” He utters so quietly, in that very deep voice that has you leaning in to hear him better. “You’re not nothing, Spider-Woman. You’ve done a lot of good for your Earth-257, I’m sure, and that makes you something special. Like the rest of us– you’re kind of irreplaceable, right?”

“I guess.”

“Not ‘I guess.’” Hobie punches the side of your arm and you pretend to say ow, laughing a little. “If you didn’t exist, we’d all be poorer for it. Peter couldn’t ask you to chill with his baby, and I couldn’t be here talking your ear off.”

“But I’m not– I don’t really compare to her, you know?” You say without thinking, and then immediately squint at your own stupidity. 

“Who’s her?” Hobie is wary of how your expression is shifting. “Stacy?”

“Uh, no.” You inhale, exhale, and then decide it’s time to get it over with. “Jess.”

“Jess? Jessica Drew, huh?” Hobie smirks a little. “You don’t want to be adopted by her, do you?”

“More complicated than Gwen’s weird fantasy.” You shift on your spot on the counter, and pull off your mask after a minute of tribulations. “I’m… also Jessica Drew.”

You feel incredibly shy as Hobie takes in your face, wary of his every move as you feel yourself sweating, and he grasps your face gently, peering into your eyes and taking a look at your features, as if he’s really trying to remember them.  

“Huh.”

“What is it?” You say a little too defensively, and he shrugs. 

“You do have a lovely visage, you silly little sod. Even if it’s completely different from Jess’ face.” He laughs as you shove him away, covering your face in your hands. “No, don’t do that.”

He’s tracing your jaw, and he murmurs. “Maybe you could use a few piercings… a tat or two… ever thought about it?”

“No.” You shut your eyes. “I’m not cool like you.”

“Oh, shut it.” He leans in imperceptibly closer, and you blink, eyes open. Maybe Pavitr had a point that Hobie and you have something, because there’s not really another explanation for that look in his eyes. “You’re plenty cool, Jessica Drew. It was just a shit suggestion of mine.”

You think Hobart “Hobie” Brown is sweeter than you previously thought. You have half a mind to tell him about your feelings.

You and Hobie both look up, Spider-Senses tingling, and sure enough, Mayday is cooing from the ceiling– she leaps into your already waiting arms. She giggles at your expression.

Oh well, you think. There’ll be some other time to work up the courage to tell him.

Hobie half-smirks at her. “Way to interrupt us, Mayday.”

She looks at him all confused, tilting her head in a “huh?” motion, and you feel the same way, not entirely sure what Hobie meant by that and not willing to assume either.

He answers you by pulling your face in a sudden, swift motion, connecting his lips to yours, and in between the two of you, Mayday shrieks and laughs. She crawls off to the side of you, no longer smothered between your torsos.

Hobie is weirdly insistent– you feel like he’s been wanting to do this for a while, maybe longer than the length of your conversation (you don’t know if this is just a funny little fling for him, but you’re fairly sure it isn’t) and he’s a lot taller and lankier than you, so he really has to tower over you to reach your mouth better. He’s grasping your jaw and neck and the back of your head with a lot of intensity– you feel wildly dizzy when he pulls away.

“Uh.” Peter B. Parker is standing in front of you both, mouth wide open, and you look back at Hobie and he grins rather coolly, not really giving a damn. It’s enough to make you snort. “Wait, who are you?”

“Oh. Spider-Woman from Earth 257.” You remember Peter has never seen your face, either. “Jessica Drew?”

“Right, right.” Peter raises his hands in a whoop-de-doo motion, like he should’ve known that. “Nice to know what you look like behind the mask. Not nice to know that you’ve been avoiding your babysitting duties. Why are you two fooling around like prepubescent children? What happened to responsibility?”

“Ahhhhh, please, Peter. Live a little.” Hobie stands up, his full length of height drawing him to about the same height as Peter if not an inch taller. He picks up Mayday and hands her off to him. “Let’s not act as if you and MJ weren’t shacking up in the sleeping pods last week, yeah? Does Miguel need to know about how irresponsible you were?”

You think he’s kidding, but Peter pales and you clap your hands over your mouth, trying not to laugh. Miguel would absolutely throw a fit if he found that out.

“Uh…” Peter swallows. “At least that’s not an interdimensional tragedy-in-the-making like you two.”

“There’s no rules against that, I don’t think.” Hobie shrugs. “And if there are, fuck them. Miguel doesn’t know it all.”

“He really is punk to the very end.” Peter groans and leaves out to the hallway with Mayday. 

Hobie flashes a smile at you as he sits back down, ruffling your hair.

[spid3rpunksimp]

Hobie brown x Spider! gn! reader

Since y'all liked the first one so much, here's the second.

Masterlist

Please don't leave me.

part 1

A/N:This one's prob gonna be fluffy cause I couldn't handle it if it wasn't, I probably would cry

Warnings:Blood, Angst, fluff, A LOT of crying, pain, idk what else

Everything was silent.

Almost peacful.

Almost

Everything was black. Nothing was around me. Everything was so quiet, but I couldn't see anyone. I wanted to cry but I couldn't. I wanted Hobie but I couldn't find him. I felt...nothing.

How could I have left him like that how could I ha-

You were brought back to reality with the feeling of your face, it was a slight stinging. You saw a simple light that you knew was Hobie. He was the only destination you wanted right now.

You ran towards it but it felt like quicksand, every time you took a step you fell deeper and deeper in. You felt tired again, you felt cold. You wanted to lay down.

"Y/N please...please."

Suddenly your eyes began to open as you looked at Hobie, holding you in his arms as the rest of the crew swung down. As soon as Gwen and Paveir saw you they put their hands over their mouths. Jess got a little closer to you before doing the same. You looked horrible. You had scratches all over your face. Pain washed over you again as you felt tears running down your face again. "Y/N stay with me okay, we're gonna get you to the hospital, everything' is gonna be ok-"

You cut Hobie off by placing your hand on his check, his mask still over his face. You placed your hand over the bottom side of his face and pulled the mask up, your mask was torn in every was imaginable, your face on full display, showing all your tears. As you pulled the mask off of Hobie's face you saw the broken look over his face as he examined your body. The body he would hold every night as you two would fall asleep together only for you to be back in your universe the next morning before he even woke up. The body he would make love with. The body he would kiss. It was dying right in front of him. The love of his life...was dying right in front of him.

"H-hobart.." you said in a wispier, your voice horse as Miguel attempted to figure out a way to get you out of here without causing more harm to your spine. You placed a hand on the side of Hobie's face, his warm tears hitting your hand, continuing to run out of his eyes as he felt your usually warm hands become colder and colder by the minute.

"Hobs...promise me something." you began before Hobie's eyes widened, denial hitting him like an asteroid. "NO, no no no your gonna be alright, love. Your gonna make it out of this and we're gonna go home and we're gonna go right back to loving each other like always, your gonna be al-"

You placed your bloody finger over his lips as you flung one arm over your stomach, looking down at the sting you saw the blood, everywhere. You looked back to Hobie and removed your finger from his lips, leaving blood on his lips as you began to speak again. "Promise me...promise you'll find another person. Promise me you'll live your amazing life and play your guitar and every time you d-drink tea, promise me you'll think of me."

"NO! Love, you're gonna be alright. You're gonna make it out of this, okay." Hobie said, tears pouring out of his eyes as he watched two lines go down your bloody face, tears pouring out of either side. "Love, we both know that's not true." you said as you gave Hobie a smile. Everyone was watching Hobie breaking, Miguel frantically trying to get more spider people over there, his watch glitching like crazy. Hobie cried as he leaned over you, holding you tighter and tighter. "Please don't go..." Hobie said, broken sobs coming out of his voice as he said it. You looked over to see Gwen and Jess crying, Paveir holding on by a thread. "I l-love you, Hobie brown." you said as you fell into the sleepiness that was holding you captive, the last words coming out in a shudder.

Everything was quite again

You felt guilty

You wanted to cry but you couldn't

It hurt so bad

You wanted Hobie but you couldn't

It hurt

. . .

So bad

. . .

. . .

You heard the sound of beeps.

Beep, beep, beep

You felt something warm holding your hard

He was crying.

He was in pain

You felt as your eyes fluttered open, the bright light blinding you for a moment as you adjusted to the light. The world around you getting more and more noticeable. Looking to the side, you felt a jerk as Hobie's brow, tear filled eyes looked up to you.

You put your hands over your mouth as you looked at Hobie, without skipping a beat he was soon hugging you tightly, not caring what stitches he would reopen. And you didn't care either. He was right, you were gonna make it out of this. "I thought I-" your raspy voice was cut off by a broken sob.

"Shhhh, don't talk, love." Hobie said as he placed a hand on the side of your head, pecking your lips once more.

"The doctors said your gonna make it, you've been out for a week, they say you should be mostly healed cause your body was healing while you were sleeping, that's why you were out for so long. Oh fuck I'm so god damn happy your alive!" he said as he kissed you once more.

You began to pull him into the bed, him not caring at all about what you were wanting, he would do it if it meant being close with you. "Sleep with me." you said looking at him through happy tear filled eyes as each of you laid down, holding one another tightly.

As you fell into dreamland next to each other, Jessica came by to see if Hobie was doing alright, only to see the two of you smiling, sleeping next to one another once again. Snapping a picture of the two of you, she sent it to Miguel say in it 'She's awake, and alive. You have to admit messing with this canon event was worth it.'

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

I LOVE THE ENDING SO MUCH!

If you guys weren't satisfied with the ending tell me and I'll think about writing an alternative ending.

Part 3 for after you're healed?

[keisobe]

all i can just think of are fluffy hobie headcanons w reader who has glasses 🗣️🗣️🗣️ like they would be making out and hobie would be complaining about reader's glasses just keeps knocking on his face (definitely did not think of this because i wear glasses)

— okay as a fellow glasses wearer, i loved this idea sooo much (// ^ ^ //) ♥︎

hobie thinks your glasses are adorable. he has these moments when he’s admiring you and noticing the tiniest details. his favorite one is when your glasses slowly slip to the tip of your nose and you huff in annoyance— pushing them back up. hobie thought it was funny, but he came to find himself adjusting them for you.

with delicate fingers, hobie pushes up your glasses by the hinges until they perfectly frame your face— softly brushing a knuckle over your cheek as a way to ease your irritation.

“wha’ me to get you some goggles instead?” hobie quipped under his breath, brushing your hair behind your ears.

you simply rolled your eyes with a cheesed smile, to which hobie would playfully pinch your cheek as you continue to work.

blessed with perfect vision, hobie had no concept on what it’s like to be forced to wear glasses.

“how many fingers am i holdin’ up?” he would extend three fingers in front of your face, dragging his arm in different directions and distances.

when you tell him that’s not how it works, hobie would simply shrug his shoulders with a lazy smirk.

“wrong. the answer ‘s two.” he would obnoxiously bend his ring finger and wave it on your heated face— earning him a smack to the chest.

and yes, making out with your glasses really gets on hobie’s nerves.

a soft sigh would spill from your lips as hobie grazes his teeth along your neck— his mouth coming back to slot themselves back into its place. he leans in for another kiss and immediately comes contact with the foggy lens of your glasses.

“for fuck’s sake.” he hisses in exasperation, snatching them off your face but still being mindful not to touch your lens, he tossed them on the nearest soft surface.

before you could whine about him handling your glasses like a madman, hobie cups your cheeks and briskly pressed his lips against yours— knocking all the wind out of your lungs. you nearly tipped over by his desperate advancement until hobie wraps a firm grasp around your waist, pulling you closer with a satisfied hum.

“y’know nothin’ can keep me away from you.” he would breathe out in between heated pecks.

but sometimes, hobie doesn’t know the extent to his own strength.

“‘s just a dent babe…” hobie would look apologetic when you patch the temple with lousy tape— your pout making him feel guilty.

he nervously grasped the lenses from your hands and placed them on your face. cringing at the way the lenses slowly tilted to the side as a deep frown settled onto your face.

“see your specs still look… fine.”

don’t worry, he got you a new pair afterwards.

KEISOBE © 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

[aureliaporter]

the better boy friend

a/n: finally writing again!! decided to try out some oneshots to settle back into it, so here we go :D 

cw: lowercase intended!!, tiny bit of lanugage, neglectful boyfriend (not hobie!!), hobie (atsv) x fem!character, ooc hobie, still getting back into this writing thing lol

part ii | part iii

SHE WAS USED to being ignored. it had happened so often, so now as she felt his attention slipping away, his once-interested responses disintegrating into “uh-huh”s and “mm”s, she felt a piece of her break.

he had told her once he was different from the rest. that he cared about her and what she had to say. that no matter what, she could always talk to him.

those old promises were the only things that kept her lips moving as she recounted her day, one that resembled a roller coaster for all intents and purposes. and then she tried to ask him a question, but when he didn’t respond, she covered it up by beginning to prattle on about a hobby of hers.

does he really care about what i say?

he’s just stressed. he has midterms next week.

when i had midterms, i still listened to everything he said. i was there for him.

and? people love in different ways. you should be more lenient. keep that up, and you’ll end up alone.

she was so focused on her inner turmoil that she didn’t even realize her voice stuttering to a stop, silence enveloping the call. it wasn’t until she heard him laugh that she snapped out of it, glancing at her phone screen. four hours and thirteen minutes. and he’d barely been present for any of it. she cut off the thought as soon as it appeared, not wanting to spiral tonight.

“s-so, i was thinking-”

she was cut off by another laugh, and after a moment of offense, she realized what was going on. she clicked the mute button and leaned back in her chair, taking a minute to curse him out. here she was, giving up her time with her family and her homework and her friends and her hobbies, and he was too busy scrolling on some social media or other while she was trying to talk.

she stayed muted for a few more moments, collecting herself, before she reached over to click the unmute button. but she hesitated. he wasn’t listening. she didn’t want to talk anymore. so there was really no point.

she left herself muted and pulled out an assignment, working on it in the dim light of her laptop screen and scribbling physics equations onto the paper. she managed to get through a good three worksheets - all for different classes - before he even realized.

“hm? why’re you muted?”

she bit her lip, resisting the urge to say anything just yet. she set down her pencil and sat up, collecting herself before unmuting, forcing a chuckle into her voice. “i went to the bathroom and forgot to unmute, sorry. everything good?” she asked, silently proud of herself for her acting but also disappointed in him, wanting him to notice that he’d been neglecting her, that he’d been hurting her.

“ah, alright. oh, damn, look at the time. i better head to bed, so, see you tomorrow? text me when you wake up, alright?” he said, words in a rush. why was he in a hurry? did he not want to be on a call with her? did he have someone else he’d rather be talking to?

“o-oh, okay, sure. i lov-”

a click and the dial tone cut her off, making her sigh. he hadn’t been saying it back lately. he hadn’t been saying anything lately. was this really supposed to be the person who made her smile, who made her feel safe? did he even count as a boyfriend anymore?

before she knew it, her suppressed emotions were tumbling out of her in a storm, stifled sobs sounding in her room. she hiccupped, trying to control herself and her emotions, to clamp them back down, but she felt like a pot left to boil on the stove too long - everything was pouring out.

in a teary haze, she clicked open her contacts, desperate not to feel alone. her family would merely make fun of her for crying again, so that was a no go. and those friends were more casual - they didn’t come crying to her, she didn’t go crying to them. and that was the person she was trying to gain relief from.

her thumb pressed on a name, the dialing screen appearing on her phone. she froze, her sobs pausing. no, no, he can’t see me like this, please-

before she could click the button to end the call, she heard the phone being answered, and a familiar breathing rate echo into the phone. “hello?” he said, his voice deeper than her boyfriend’s, his accent still managing to cling to the two syllables. “you there?”

she sniffled, nodding before realizing he couldn’t see. “y-yeah, ‘m here,” she mumbled, feeling her tears still prick at her eyes. She heard shuffling and muffled conversation on the other end before all of a sudden, it grew silent. “hobie?”

“’m here, don’t ya worry your pretty little head,” he said, a worried tone bleeding into his voice even as he tried to keep it casual. “everythin’ good?”

she nearly said yes, nearly pushed away his outstretched hand yet again to cocoon into her own feelings, before she paused. and an inner, more hurt part of her squeaked out, “no.”

hobie merely hummed, seemingly expecting this. “where you at? i’ll stop by,” he said, slipping into an alleyway to tug on his mask and webshooters, quickly zipping up to the rooftops.

“y-you don’t have to come by-”

“you called me crying, so i do. now where you at?”

defeated, slumping, she mumbled the address to her mum’s house, spinning around in her chair as she waited for hobie to show up. he had her stay on the call, just to make sure she was still okay for the time being.

“is your window open?” he asked into the phone, landing on the fire escape outside of her window. she murmured a no before standing from her chair, unlatching the window and tugging it up. a gloved hand reached out to help her, and before she knew it, hobie was sliding into her room in all his spider-punk glory.

he took one glance at her tear stained cheeks, messy hair, and swollen eyes, tutting in disbelief. “oh, baby, who did this to you?” he asked, tugging her into him and hugging her tight. his taller frame enveloped hers, making her feel safe.

“’s just- ‘s my boyfriend, he keeps makin’ me feel like shit, y’know, but-”

“break up with him,” he said, shrugging and cutting her off. “real men don’t make their girls cry like this. real men don’t have their girls running into the arms of another so then they don’t feel like shit,” he said, tone biting. he’d always disapproved of her boyfriend, and now he had all the more reason to.

“but that’s- that’s rude!” she stammered, pulling back to look up at him. “i’d be hurting him! and he’s got midterms next week, so if he fails because of me, then-”

“and he’s been hurting you this whole time, but you ain’t been complaining, have you?” hobie asked, leaning down to be eye-level with her. “break up with him. he’s not worth your time. he’s not worth your effort. you-” he said, poking her chest “deserve to feel safe and happy in a relationship. and if he’s not making you feel that way, he can kiss my ass.”

she couldn’t help the snort that escaped her at his antics, shaking her head at him. 

“still, i-”

“dump him.”

“it’s rude.”

“don’t care. dump him.”

“what if someone dumped you?”

“then that’s on them for not recognizing my fabulousness. now dump him.”

she sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “y’know, i called you for hugs, not for a lecture,” she muttered, an amused huff escaping her.

hobie hummed in acknowledgement, nodding. he poked her shoulder, a small smile quirking his lips as she rocked back and forth with the movement. “and the mere fact that you have to call someone else for a hug should be enough to convince you something ain’t right.”

she sighed again, a grumble escaping her. “just- hug me, and we’ll discuss this in the morning. please,” she said, thumping her head against him. his chest rumbled with laughter, his arms wrapping around her to pull her closer towards him as he maneuvered her to lay down.

“i’ll stay till you fall asleep, and then i got to head out to patrol. deal?” he offered, cuddling against her as they laid down on her bed together. she hummed her acknowledgement, snuggling into him, fingers grasping at his jacket as she pulled him closer.

she could feel herself falling asleep, could feel her senses dimming. what didn’t dim was hobie’s warmth, snug against her, and his soft voice as he hummed a song. he was humming? when did he start humming?

“i wish i dated you instead of him,” she mumbled, eyelids heavy, brain foggy with sleep. “you’re much better.”

hobie paused for a moment, his voice quieting, before she whined softly, wanting him to continue. with a light chuckle, he did, humming once more until she fell asleep.

“i wish you did, too,” he murmured, kissing her forehead. “and you will. once you dump him.”

he extracted himself from her arms as best he could, wincing when she whined as she lost his warmth. he slipped a pillow into her hold and rummaged through her chest of blankets for a warm fleece one that smelled a little bit like him from all the times he’d stolen it. he wrapped her in it and pressed a final kiss to her forehead, a silent promise to himself and to her.

and then he was slipping back out the window, shutting it and tugging his mask back on and then doing a flip off the fire escape, thwipping away.

he let out a joyful whoop, letting himself free fall for a moment before catching himself with a web again and officially starting his patrol.

two things were for certain that night.

one; she should dump her boyfriend.

and two; as much as hobie might hate labels, he didn’t mind at all if he’d get to be called her boyfriend.

obvi not my best, but i hope you enjoyed anyways! have the best day/night! <3

[bruisedboys]

looking after hobie brown with a split lip and an almost black eye and he won’t stop touching you. it’s extremely distracting and you’d tell him so but you’d hate to see the look on his face when you admit he’s flustering you. so you let him be and scrub at the stream of blood trailing from his lip to his chin. you shuffle up his lap (yeah, you’re in his lap, and what about it? he was the one who put you here. he hadn’t given you much of a choice. insisted it was easier to reach and pulled you into him before you could protest) to get a better angle and his fingers press harder into your hips, his grip on you tightening as he tugs you up his lap, somewhat helpfully. you try to ignore the way it makes you feel. the way you’re now practically chest to chest and he can probably hear your heartbeat, it’s so damn loud.

and then, the very tips of his fingers dip underneath the hem of your shirt and brush your warm skin, and you decide you just can’t take it anymore.

“hobie,” you chide, soft and entirely too flustered.

“what?” he says back, dripping with ignorance, and you’d think he was genuinely clueless if you didn’t know him so well. he pushes his hand further up your back, his rough calloused fingers practically burning a mark on your already hot skin.

“quit it”, you say, though you don’t sound very convincing at all.

“quit what, babe?” hobie presses his palm to the small of your back, forcing you ever so closer. you gasp, pressed up against him, your hands braced on his shoulders, but he only smirks knowingly. “m’only helping you out.”

[bee-writes-n-spins]

a/n - sorry i was gone guys my depression got really bad :p

he laid on the bed. the buzzing of the fan made him sick to his stomach. wrappers and clothes and cups and pages were thrown all about his room. his own mind held him back.

the days felt like a time paradox. the hours felt like torture. the minutes felt like hell. the seconds felt like death.

he needed something to hold on to. anything. just a tiny bit of hope. he needed something to pull him out of his own head. anything. just a hand to pull him out of that train wreck.

that was, until you came along.

the second his eyes fell upon you, it was almost like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. he could breathe. he could see a hopeful light.

for once in his life, the storm clouds dispersed and a rainbow began to shine through. it was like you were his saving grace.

years passed and tears passed. keeping the storm away was hard for him at times. but he held you close.

he held you tight in his arms, feeling like he had a home. somewhere and someone to lean on. someplace to go back to when things got hard. something he needed for so long.

he muttered softly: “i will never let you go.”

DAZAI, fyodor, poe, AKUTAGAWA, hobie, MIGUEL, simeon, LUCIFER, GIYUU, obanai, zhongli, NAGITO, and any other of your clinically depressed favs <3

[moralesluvr]

Ok but hobie being reaaally whipped for his gf 😩😩

attached at the hip ft. hobie brown

♡ pairings & aus: clingy!hobie brown x black!fem!reader ♡ summary: just our fav boy loving on us ♡ warnings: none! just fluff ♡ a/n: thanks for your request!! it’s a little short though! ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

HOBIE BROWN WAS OBSESSED WITH YOU.

There was honestly no other way to put it.

He didn’t even mean to fall for you, much less have such an attachment to you— but he couldn’t stop. Ever since he had met you and you started hanging around him and his mates more, he found himself falling harder and harder each day.

It started off with simple ‘Hello’s when you saw him at his shows. Sometimes you would be in the crowd, watching him passionately play his guitar. A smirk would be etched on your face as you watched him, his gaze catching yours every once and a while.

Other times he would see you sitting at the bar with a drink in your hand, talking to one of the waitresses sweetly. He knew he was falling hard for you when you came in one night in a little black dress with one your friends, dancing in the crowd. He eventually mustered up the courage to come up to you and ask you out, and ever since, you have been completely inseparable.

Which, even if you wanted to, it would be nearly impossible to get away from your boyfriend. He loves spending time with you even if it’s just a walk in the park or taking a nap in his bed after one of his shows.

In real time, he was cuddled up on your chest while you read one of your favorite books aloud. He was playing with the hem of your shirt as you spoke, looking up at you occasionally when a word would roll nicely off your tongue.

He loved the sound of your voice. You could literally say just about anything and he would swoon— he just felt as if he was at home when he heard you speak. Especially when you spoke about him.

“You’re so pretty, love.” He told you, his eyes glossed over with affection as you rubbed his back. He liked to be vulnerable with you and you let him, but what you loved even more was that he was comfortable enough to be like that for you.

You giggled at his statement as you closed your book,”Thank you handsome. You wanna grab a bite to eat? Maybe go out?”

“I was thinkin’ we just stay home, eat some Chinese, and watch a movie, yeah? That sound good?”

“Very good.” You smiled, kissing your boyfriend on his cheek as you pulled him closer to you in your embrace.

You were so very lucky to have him.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee // @liliummz // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie

𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🎸: @lipstickstainedshells // @Dee-m-cee // @euphorichappiness10 // @adoree-kaelynn // @leycondones // @allex560