#hobie fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eyesxxyou · 4 months

Text

❝ nude bodies ❞ (artist!hobie x trans ftm!reader)

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. friends to lovers, a little bit of awkwardness, oral (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), reader has a t-dick, very sweet sex (bordering on love making), creampie, hobie gets a little sappy at the end. you've been long time best friends with hobie for years, both secretly pining after each other. you both think nothing will ever come of your feelings until hobie asks to draw you nude.

wc: 5k

The sun was hot on your face. The rough sound of pencil meeting paper tickled your ears. Hobie hummed a soft tune while his hand carved out the rough shapes of your face into paper. His eyes kept flicking from his sketchbook to you, his gaze lingering on your closed eyes before wandering a little lower to trace the shape of your honeydew lips.

He reached out, his hand tenderly caressing the side of your face to get you to turn your head to the slightest degree so that the sun hit your face at just the right angle to make you glow honey gold. He touched you like a masterpiece, one of the old greats, like you would crumble if pressed too hard. His thumb traced your lip and you shivered ever so slightly.

“Have ya ever though’ of letting me draw ya nude?” Hobie had a way of saying things. Careless or carefree, you chose because he doesn't have the energy to do it himself, too busy drawing or playing the guitar.

You open your eyes, a deep frown painting itself across your honeydew lips. “You want to draw me what?” You sat up on your arms and Hobie sat up with you on his knees, his hand on your chest to push you back down onto the smooth wood of his deck. “Nude. Was I no’ loud enough? Keep still, dove. ‘m no’ done.”

You sigh and relent, laying back in the sun with your head tilted towards him to catch the golden rays. Hobie settled back down beside you and began sketching again.

You won't say Hobie didn't rattle something within you. Nude was intimate, nude meant vulnerable, nude meant served on a platter with all your feelings splayed out so brazenly before him. You couldn't hide anything from him while naked, couldn't hide how every gentle touch of his warm fingertips made your heart leap and your groin ache with feelings you’re forced to call want. You couldn't hide from his wandering gaze powdered with the stark neutrality of someone who didn't care either way.

“Why would you want to draw me naked?” You try not to move too much while you talk, try not to make a big deal out of his request. Why would he want to draw your body? Your body didn't look like everyone else's, the crescent-shaped twin scars cupping your chest made sure of that. Not to mention all the changes gone on between your legs. You’re not the most ideal person in the world to draw nude according to every societal standard.

But Hobie wasn't one to care about a social standard. “Why wouldn' I? I draw ya all the time. Yer my lovely lil muse.” He touched his pencil behind his ear and set his sketchbook down closed beside him. He shifted himself, laid down right beside you with his head propped up on his hand, looking down on you as you lay below him.

Hobie reached out and pinched your cheek. “Jus’ think ‘bout i’. No pressure. I wan’cha to be comfortable with the idea.” He lied down completely beside you, just the two of you lying on the deck of his boat, shirtless, arms touching all the way from shoulder down to the backs of your hands. You could grab his hand if you wanted to. He could grab yours. Your finger twitches with the idea of it. But that's not what friends do.

“What would happen if I agreed?” You asked timidly. Hobie turned his head, eyes carefully tracing the lines of your side profile. “We’d wait a week before we did anythin’. Jus’ in case you became a chicken and wan’ed to back ou’.” He teased as he always did and that set you at ease as you turned your head to meet his gaze.

His deep-set eyes traced the contours of your face with dedication and admiration. If you hadn't known any better you might have said he did it lovingly. But he was an artist at the end of the day and your best friend. Any love he had beyond a platonic one was for what you do for his art. “You bring it to life.” He once said. He did not love you the way you loved him. You were sure of it.

“Lemme finish this piece then we can grab a bite, yeah?” Hobie sat up and placed his hand on your chest, patting you the way a friend pats another in the back. He doesn't let his touch linger even though every atom of your body begged and pleaded for him to just touch you, touch you anywhere, you didn't care where. Just let it stay there, let it linger a little longer, let it hold so you might know that he's real and he’s yours.

You consider it while he draws with your eyes closed and your hands resting on your belly, tracing imaginary lines and imagining it’s Hobie doing it with the tips of his nimble fingers. He wouldn't make it weird, wouldn't tease you about it for the rest of your lives, wouldn't embarrass you by telling others. That's not how he is. It would just be between the two of you, from one man to another.

Hobie sits beside you in silence, hoping he didn't ruin anything you two had, the soft progress you have made with each other years in the making. He’s been dropping hints for years now, the obvious ones only made in the last few months. Unnecessary lingering touches, brushing his hand against yours to give you the opportunity to grab on and stay that way. He holds your face so softly so fucks sake, leans in so close he might just kiss you but leaves it to you to make the final move. You never do. He called you his muse, told you his art is nothing without you and yet you still look at him with that blank, oblivious look in your eyes that makes him want to tell you straight up that he’s in love with you. You’d probably still tilt your head like a puppy, confused and unknowing.

His eyes lavish over your body, every piece of exposed skin being feasted upon by his greedy gaze. Your eyes are closed, you’d never know. He wants to trace his fingers along your scars, kiss them, kiss you, feel your skin on his and know you a little more than he already does.

“I’ll do it.” You concede. “You can’t show it to anyone though. I’d die of humiliation.”

“Never planned to, dove.” Hobie smiled. “It’ll just be between me ‘n you. It’s just anatomy practice.” Anatomy practice sounded good, sounded reasonable, sounded like he wasn't just trying to find any excuse to witness you naked. Did it make him sick, perverted, what he’d end up doing with that drawing as he did with nearly all his other drawings of you? Did it make him bad that he’d end up with his hand firmly wrapped around his cock, pleading for a single moment, a single chance? Did it make him wrong that he’d ruin the page with cum and would have to redraw it all over again?

You remind him, “I don't have regular anatomy.”

“I don't need regular, dove.” Hobie looks up from his sketchbook, flipping his pencil to erase a small imperfection in his work. “I just need you.”

Hobie gave you a week. An entire week to reconsider and yet you remained steadfast in your decision. It wouldn't be weird. Hobie has a way of making awkward situations completely comfortable with his light-heartedness. He never took anything seriously so why should you?

Boarding his boat meant accepting wholly that you’d be naked in front of him and a part of you, while nervous, was comfortable with that. If you were to be naked in front of anyone in the entire world, you’d want it to be your best friend, the person you trust most in this world.

Hobie was waiting for you inside, guitar in lap while strumming some cords to a melody he was humming. You kicked your shoes off at the door and let it slam shut behind you as if it were sealing you in. You can't back out now. You had promised.

Hobie put his guitar down on it’s display rack and tossed the pick into a small box of picks he had sitting on a small table beside his bed. “Mr. Punctuality ova here. I wasn' expectin’ ya fo’ anotha hour.” He hopped down from the ledge he was sitting on, stumbling a bit but ultimately landing on his feet. He came over and tossed an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his body for a half-hearted hug.

“You told me to come at 1.”

“But when I say tha’ I really mean 2. You know ion run on other people's time.” He offered a cheeky little dimpled smile across those dark lips of his that you adored more than you could ever say. He rubbed your shoulder a little before patting it and letting you go. You wanted to run back to him, to tell him to embrace you once more but fully this time. You didn't want to embarrass yourself by doing so.

“Are ya sure ya do this?” He offered you one last chance to back out before the two of you started. “We can always stop if ya feel uncomfortable,” he assured you.

You nodded slowly, lips curling into a soft, self-assuring smile. “I’m okay. Let’s do this.” Your heart beat so hard in your chest you could feel it in your throat and hear it in your ears. You balled your hands into fists, thumbs in your palms, squeezing with anxiety. You trusted him, knew he would do nothing to make you feel uncomfortable.

“I’ll be back in a momen’, you can get on the bed when you’re ready.” Hobie went to leave to afford you some privacy. You appreciated his thoughtfulness and watched him go with a shaky breath. You wrung your hands, grasping the hem of your shirt to sooth yourself before you began.

You started with your shirt, pulling it over your head and folding it up neatly before placing it on the edge of Hobie’s bed. That was soon followed by your pants, then your underwear. You’re not used to being naked, especially not in Hobie’s boathouse. You felt vulnerable, your hands immediately went to cup your love and cover yourself without so much as a second thought.

You climbed up onto Hobie’s bed and covered yourself with his duvet, waiting for him to return so that you can get this over with. You tell yourself it’s for anatomy practice, that it’s nothing more than that. But there’s something oddly intimate about being wrapped up in his planets, lying in his bed with his deep, musky scent permeating your senses and soothing your raging nerves.

You lay there with your face pressed into his pillow awaiting Hobie’s return. Your fingers gripped his sheets, twisting and fingering the fabric anxiously as you watch the door crack open and Hobie’s head poke inside to ensure you’re properly prepared. He saw you curled up in his bed and smiled with a tender softness. “You ready?”

You nodded, nipping at your bottom lip. Hobie came shuffling in, closing the door behind himself gently. He rummaged about his flat, grabbing his sketchbook and a sharpened pencil before coming over to you in his bed.

Hobie climbed in with you, shuffling over to kneel beside your covered body. He set his sketchbook down and carefully reached out to grasp the edge of the blanket you had covered your modesty up with. “May I?” His eyes were soft looking upon you, they ask for permission too, ask for you to let your guard down for just a moment. They ask for you to trust him

You do. You trust him wholeheartedly. With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you nod subtly and let go of the blanket. You let him peel it away from you but your hands return between your legs to keep yourself covered.

“Jus' relax f’me, dove.” His slender fingers grasped your wrists, carefully and gently pulling them away from your tender lips. You don't resist him, you let him take your hands in his and remove them from the spot where you find yourself feeling the most vulnerable. There's something about his touches that feels more intimate than before. Your nudity amplified every caress of his hand against your skin. You could feel it linger throughout your body.

Hobie gazed at you, his eyes scanning down the length of your trembling body, hitching at your chest and groin for just a lingering moment. You don’t hear the way he murmurs soft prayers under his breath, a plea for strength, for the worthiness to admire such a sacred body in its most bare state.

Starting the sketch was the hardest part. Hobie was used to touching you, holding your face, dragging a finger along the curve of your jaw, his fingertips kissing your eyelids, tracing the underside of your lips. He was a physical learner and with time, he knew your face like he knew his own palm, all the lines and shadows that made it up.

But he didn’t know your body. Not the way he wanted to.

You could see the frustration crossing his face as he turned his pencil and erased his work for the second time, “Is there anything I can do to help?” Your voice was timid and beautiful, ringing with an air of genuine concern. You hadn’t expected Hobie to ask to touch you.

“F’r visual purposes only. I don’ – know ya body yet. No’ like I know ya face.” His hands wrung against his lap, refraining from making himself too comfortable with your pretty body. He imagined your skin would be soft beneath his palms, supple as he dipped his graphite-covered fingers into your flesh. “You don’t have’ta.”

“You can.” You say almost too quickly. Did he catch the desperation in your voice? Did he catch the way you leaned in just a little further, the way you crossed your legs at the mere thought of his hands stroking down the length of your bare skin. Had you given yourself away? Had you shown all of your cards like an amateur?

You watched Hobie place his things down and come over to climb back onto the bed with you. You sat up and let out a startled little gasp. Hobie was suddenly closer than you had expected, sitting beside you with his hands on either side of your legs to prop himself up.

“Jus’ tell me when t’stop, yeah?”

He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t help but to touch. Hobie started at your face, the familiarity of it offering you ease and comfort. His hand cupped your cheek. Brushing a soft thumb under your eyes, palm cupping along your jaw and his thumb moving up slightly to skim over your soft eyelid. The pads of his fingers move to your lips, tracing them left to right, right to left. His eyes flick between your lips and your coy gaze, too shy to fully meet his every time he looks at you.

His other hand skimmed at your waist. His fingertips touching at your chest, tracing your scars with such loving care. Hobie likes the way you shiver under his touch, likes the way your body rolls as he makes his way lower to your belly where your happy trail begins, leading lower and lower. He doesn’t go all the way though you so desperately wished he would.

His hand touches your thigh, the other trailing down your shoulder, to your elbow, to your hand where his fingers slip beneath yours. Before you know it, your fingers are laced with his. There was something so innocent about it, something so beautiful and soft. His hand on your thigh, tracing circles into your flesh felt just as innocent in the beginning. But his fingers were trailing .along your inner thigh, gripping the flesh there with something far darker that anything platonic.

It was hard not to melt into his touch, a touch so hot that it left your skin burning where he met it. Your chest burned with desire. Your gaze, a little more brazen now, showed as much. You swallowed thickly as you caught Hobie’s gaze and suddenly you were doing just the same as him, staring at that lip piercing that glinted under the dim lighting of his bedroom.

It was the same thought that crossed your minds.

“Can I kiss ya?”

“For your drawing, right?”

Hobie nodded slowly, leaning in with a subtle tilt of his head. His lips hovered slightly over yours, not exactly kissing you but not, not kissing you either. “Yeah…for the drawin’.” He whispered against your lips, taking them with his. He kissed you like he’s been waiting for this moment since he’s known you. Kissed you like he needed this, kiss you in a way that said “if you stop, I’ll die.”

He can't help the way his hands wander, touching you in places he'd never even dreamt of touching in the first place as his hands grow more greedy. His hands trail everywhere, feeling your skin grow warm under his touch as he commits every brush of skin against skin.

You could feel a heat pool between your legs, your pussy ached and your dick throbbed to attention with each inch gained by Hobie’s fingers closer to your wanton core. You spread your legs for him, silent permission for him to touch where he pleased and where you craved.

Hobie did not touch you there, not yet. His hand held your waist and his lips began to trace a trail down the side of your neck, placing sloppy, open mouth kisses on your exposed flesh leading down to your chest. He peppered kisses along the crescents of your scars, worshiping exactly where they cut into you and made you a little more of who you are.

His lips pressed kisses down your naval. His hand gripped yours tighter. “Lay back, luv.” His free hand pushed you back gently, coaching you to lie in the mess of pillows stained with his scent. Hobie held your smaller hand, pressing it into the mattress, his free hand still roaming and touching and studying your warm body.

How could he possibly go back to pencil and paper after this? His drawings could never satisfy him now that he’s gotten a taste of the real thing. His art was meaningless now, served no purpose now that your flesh was beneath his tongue, in his hands, gripping, touching, loving.

He’s come on your face a thousand times over in his mind, on his page. But he could not bear the idea of sullying your sacred body with such degeneracy. Hobie would only touch, only please. He would come last.

He settled himself between your legs, his hand parting them a little further until your pretty, wet lips parted with a nice, creamy sound. You turned your head away, embarrassed but Hobie found it quite lovely. You are hard and wet for him, your sweet, little cock firm behind the hood.

Hobie kissed your pelvis just above your t-dick, ending his journey to where you desired him the most. He glanced up at you and found your eyes cast away with what could only read as humiliation.

“C’mon, dove, look a’ me.” He kissed the tip of your dick and smiled as you shuddered with something of a pathetic moan. You willed yourself to look at him with timid eyes. Hobie kissed your tip again, his fingers pulling back your hood to give him more space to work. His tongue licked firm strokes between your soaked lips all the way up to your pretty cock which he licks then takes into his mouth.

He sucked on the engorged bundle of nerves, swollen and sensitive on his tongue. Hobie worships the way you cry a little, your back arching from the sheets, his tongue stroking lick after lick against the tip, each one sending jolts of pleasure throughout your heated body.

You placed one of your hands on the back of his head, not applying pressure but to give him a few encouraging scratches to his scalp. “Just like that, keep going.” Your body shows all its cards and you couldn't care in the slightest. Breathless moans and soft whimpers keep him going, keeps him sucking your pretty dick with his tongue occasionally lapping at your sweet little hole.

Hobie used his fingers to stroke between your pussy lips where you ached the most. It was easy to ease a finger in with how utterly soaked you were and with a few slow pumps, the second finger was not too far behind.

He took his time with you, unraveling you like a gift splayed out before him. He could rush, he could take what he needed but he wanted this to be slow, intimate. He needed to tell you just how much he worshiped his body of yours, how much he valued every piece of flesh you offered up to him. He needed to study you, inside and out.

Your hushed moans were beautiful and the whines the broke out between them were just the same. “My lil’ muse.” He hummed against your cock, kissing it and the flesh around it in an act of praise. His fingers worked in and out of you, curled in search of that gummy little ridge that would send you into orbit and make this all the better for you.

He knew he found it when you let out a nice, little, high-pitched moan and your whole body lept. Hobie chuckled softly, much to your dismay and rubbed you at your sweet spot right where you needed him.

“Why– fuck~ why are you always…so mean. L-laughing at me ‘n all.” You pant out, hips bucking against his soaked fingers, all your pretty, little parts rubbing against his knuckles.

“On the contrary, I think ‘m bein’ rather nice, don' you?” He kissed your belly, slowly making his way back up your body to find your lips again. “I only wanna be sweet wit’cha, luv.” His lips pecked yours once, twice, before he kissed you fully again. His fingers thrust into you, his thumb playing with your dick to keep you nice and stimulated. “You don't think ‘m bein’ sweet?”

You shook your head and he pressed his fingers into your sweet spot to make you gasp. “I-I think you’re the meanest person I know, Hobes.” You wrapped an arm around his neck to pull him in, your lips still stealing kisses from one another. “I think you’re mean peck ‘cause peck it’s your fingers inside me and not peck you.”

“I can change tha’. I can be so nice t’ya.”

You’re lucky he’s in his pajamas and not his entire getup. It’s easy to get him to pull himself out of his pants enough to reveal his length to you. He’s thick and long, nothing to make a passing statement at. He slips his fingers from your eager cunt and uses them to drag along the tip of his cock, spreading it down his length with a few sloppy strokes against his palm.

Hobie pulled you closer. You settled back against his pillows, whining a little when Hobie pulled his hand away from yours to brace himself against you. You toss your arms over his shoulders and around his neck. Your gaze is a bit more confident looking into his and Hobie kisses you softly.

You're dripping, trembling as he drags the tip of his thick cock between your soaked lips. He teased you, pressing the tip into your sopping entrance before pulling away. It coats him, your wetness, making it easier for him to slowly inch his way inside. He stretches you slowly and your nails sink into his back. You bury your face into his neck, muffling your moans.

His hands caress your body, holding you tight as if he craved that same warmth from you as well. His hips pressed flush against yours, his cock buried deep within you. He lets you adjust while he familiarizes himself with your tight cavern. Your walls hug him, imprinting every vein, every groove of him. Soft and welcoming like you've been waiting to invite him in since forever.

You two stare at each other, the warmth of one’s breath breezing over the other's supple skin. "Move." You encourage, nudging your nose against his. His hands tightened on your waist as he pulled his hips back until only the tip remained inside before surging them forward. He liked being soft with you, liked touching you like you were one of his drawings, like you would smudge if he pressed too hard.

You didn't mind slow or careful. It made you feel all that more special, like you were worth taking up that time where he could be doing other things. He kept his strokes paced, gentle. The soft slapping of skin mingles with your moans that fill the room.

"Hobie~" You claw at his back, leaving your mark on him in bright red lines that cover his skin. His cock filled you to the brim, pressing every point of pleasure along the way to his tip kissing your cervix. Hobie’s size was nothing to laugh at. He touched places never before discovered, his hips rutting into yours in firm, paced strokes.

He pressed his against the side of your head. Your shampoo was nice, lavender and vanilla he supposed. Hobie made a mental note to write that down in his sketchbook with all his other notes about you.

Hobie smelled like subtle cologne and natural musk. It's comforting, not overwhelming or violently invading your nose. You kiss his neck, along his sharp jaw, and over his prominent Adams Apple. Your teeth nip softly over his supple flesh, easily able to leave hickeys on his skin, smooth as paper.

Your moans are like music to his ears. High-pitched and uneven. With each thrust, he's rewarded with such a beautiful sound. You chew on your bottom lip in attempt to contain them but he doesn't like it. "Uh-uh, I wanna hear you. Don't deny me such a beautiful sound." He reaches up and pulls your lip from your teeth with his own. A spark.

Hobie took your hand with his much larger one and laced your fingers with his like before. He pinned your hand to the bed, rubbing off graphite onto your skin, his mark on you, his love on you. “Am I nice enough now?”

You nod, “so nice~”. You sighed out, pulling him in and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “So good.” You murmured against his skin, sucking on that piece of flesh to calm yourself. His strokes were deep, solid, unquestionable in his dedication to his craft.

He kisses your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, then your lips, a innocent little kiss that belies the way he’s fucking you right now, his pelvis rubbing your dick with every roll of his hips.

His hand touches the side of your face, skimming it, holding it, worshiping it as if he were drawing. Your eyes fluttered softly, your lips parted to let out a shaky breath and your eyes admire him the way he admires you, like an artist looking at its masterpiece.

Hobie’s hand trails down the length of your body and reaches between your bodies to touch your dick. He strokes it between his fingers, smirking at the way you cry into the bend of his neck and take the time to bite. You sink your teeth into smooth muscle, tongue lavishing over smoother skin. You’ll undoubtedly lean your mark and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You were so sweet too, so sweet to tell him before you came in short, fast pants. You begged in soft “please”s for him to keep going. “Jus’ like that.” Your legs hooked over his slender hips to keep him in close.

Your mind went hazy with the rush of your climax, your body tensed and rolled with the waves of it. That pretty pussy of your clamped down around Hobie’s full cock, stroking him in beautiful subtly pulses that coaxed him towards his own orgasm.

“Ya wan’ me to cum wit’cha, pretty boy?”

You nod and whine, nails sinking into the back of his neck. Your legs tuck in and pull his hips closer and oh those silky walls of your milked him so nice and thoroughly he couldn't help but to cum.

Hobie didn't mean to cum inside, didn't mean to sully your body with his spunk. He didn't want to ruin you, ruin the temple of your body but God, he couldn't help it and you weren't letting him move.

And oh, he didn't mean to get so sappy, didn't mean to lift your intertwined hands and kiss the back of yours as he came deep inside, hot cum rushing to fill you to the brim. He sighed with pleasure and contentment and looked you in the eyes. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, luv. My lil’ muse.”

He rolled over with you still holding on to him, slipping from his little sanctuary between your legs with a wet pop. He readjusted himself, made himself decent before kissing you on the head.

God, what would this mean for your friendship? Would this become a regular thing? Did this make you something more. You were too afraid to say anything in fear of ruining the quiet serenity of the moment.

“You got what you need for your drawing?” You ask innocently, as if he did all of this for some damn drawing. Hobie scoffed against your scalp and pulled away to look at you. “Yeah, but ‘m no’ in the mood to draw anymore. Jus’ lemme hold’ja, yeah, dove?”

You could let him do that.

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #spiderman #hobie brown #spider punk #hobie brown fic #hobie fanfic #atsv hobie #astv hobie smut #hobie smut #hobie x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x transmasc!reader #hobie brown x ftm!reader

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flamingo-writes · 10 months

Note

What would you think if Hobie asks reader to cut the ends of his hair that bother him because of the mask and while she was doing it, she sang a nice song to him, meanwhile some little flowers began to bloom around them.

Really like the last post and this came to my mind immediately.

Listen, I’ve been daydreaming of this the entire day. I think this idea was very cute!

Also, little disclaimer: I was born and raised in Mexico, so, I’m very unfamiliar with how black people’s hair works. I know culturally it has a lot of importance, but other than that I knew very little of the different types of hair and ofc the insane variety of treatments and proper care as well as the different ways to give maintenance to different kinds of dreads. Also, as someone who has had very short hair for 2/3 of my life, as well as shaving my own head for the better part of the last 4 (5?) years, in general hair care and routines are something I’m wildly unfamiliar with, the longest I had my hair in the latest years was a 6 inch or so Mohawk I grew two years ago. Hobie has been a very good opportunity for me to educate myself a lot in hair (especially black people’s hair) and I spent a good portion of my evening watching videos/TikTok’s and reading on dreadlocks and their maintenance. If I wrote something inaccurate or wrong, please let me know, help me see my mistake, and I will fix it as soon as I can.

This came from this other request, I’m thinking of turning into a series.

Flower Bed — Hobie x Reader

Also, you said little flowers, but my brain decided to go for a full flower bed 😭 I hope you like this!

Warnings: none.

“Oí, luv…” Hobie said walking out of the bedroom, looking around you.

“Bathroom!” You shouted as he followed your voice, noticing the bathroom door opened and you kneeling by the shower.

Plants cramped in the shower as you watered them.

“Oh, never mind, you’re busy” He said.

“I’m almost done. I just need to water the ones in the kitchen sink and the monsteras…” You said as you’d todo up and stretched your back. “I’ll be done in ten minutes, what’s up?”

“I wanted to ask you if you could help me trim my hair, it’s starting to get long and gets stuck in the mask and, you know…” He asked softly. “But I can’t see the back of my head,”

“Sure, I’ll help you,” You said giving Hobie a kind smile.

He smiled back, walking up to you and kissing your forehead.

“Need help with the plants?”

“As you wish,” You replied happily. “You were asleep earlier and didn’t want to wake you, so I started watering them on my own…”

“I’m awake now,” He said. “I’ll water the monsteras,”

“Thank you, babe,” You purred.

By the time you were done with the plants, you went ahead and started helping Hobie out. You sat on the edge of your bed, as he sat on the floor. Since Hobie was tall, this was the most comfortable arrangement. It wasn’t also the first time you trimmed his wicks. He asked you to help him every few months.

As you put some soft music in the background, you got started, trimming dread by dread. Taking care to cut the hair while keeping the end of the dread rounded. Cutting just across each wick was already hard as they were thick, but you also wanted to keep them looking nice and rounded. Which was also a reason why Hobie asked you for help. You did a much better job at it than him.

Even when he didn’t admit it, or didn’t look like it, every single detail in his appearance was planned. Especially his hair. He liked taking care of it, and over all treated his hair like this very intimate thing, he hated having other people touching his hair. Except you. He actually loved it when you touched his hair, ran your hands through it, your fingers disappearing between the dreads. And the particular care and dedication which which you seemed to tend to every wick.

Deep in your concentration, watching over the little details, you were unconsciously singing. Something you also did quite a lot. When you were deeply focused on something, you’d start humming and eventually singing. Which only added to the relaxing time Hobie was having.

Between your gentle hands running through his hair, and now the soft sound of your voice singing in a low voice, going along with the music. Hobie lived for these little peaceful moments, making him feel absolutely contempt with his life. These little moments were everything to him.

As he had his eyes closed, focusing on every brought of your touch against him, he didn’t notice at first the plants growing around you.

It wasn’t plain on obvious. In fact, Hobie didn’t notice until he felt something tickling his elbows. He opened his eyes and saw flowers growing out of the floor, tiny plants growing buds and flowering. All in a matter of several seconds. And you continue to sing, concentrated. He blinked several times, wondering if you were aware of what you were doing, as he kept staring at the flowers growing and multiplying, coming out of the wooden floor tiles.

“Uh, luv?” Hobie asked in a low deep voice.

“Hm?” You hummed, answering Hobie’s question, sounding way too focused in your job as you were rounding one of the last wicks.

“Are you aware of the fact that you pretty much brought spring into our bedroom?”

“Huh?” You asked confused, breaking your hyper focus and looked around, noticing the flowers covering almost the entirety of your floor. White, red, lilac, and pink flowers, extending across your small bedroom. “Fuck,”

Hobie laughed softly.

“You didn’t notice?”

“N-no…” You whispered softly.

“That’s amazing…” Hobie sighed. “It’s beautiful, by the way…”

“The thing is I don’t know how to…un-grow them…And they’re a lot…” You said softly, the concern building in your voice, making Hobie chuckle. “What are we going to do with all of them?”

“We can always collect them and sell them or whatever, you know?” Hobie chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…”

“In the meantime, we can always enjoy this beautiful scene, what do you say?”

“You’re way too calm for someone who has his bedroom full of flowers…”

“You made them. They’re beautiful. I don’t see the issue, basically a work of art,” He said looking at you over his shoulder, as you rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“Hobie, pollen give you allergies,”

“Sleeping on a flower bed one night isn’t going to kill me,” He pointed out. “Besides, ever since the spider thing, I get less allergies from flowers,” He said lifting a finger up, making you chuckle.

“Fine! You win this argument!” You chuckled.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, I love you too”

“That’s why I don’t mind the flowers. Because you made them,”

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Hobie’s cheek before you continued tending to the last two wicks.

“Thank you,” You said.

“For what?”

“Being you,” You sighed. “I’m not precisely fascinated with all the flowers in the bedroom, but the fact that you are, makes me feel better”

“Why, you’re welcome, sweet’eart. Thank you for helping me with my hair,” He said looking at you and giving you a cheeky smirk.

“Anytime,”

#hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown headcanons #hobie x you #hobie x y/n

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memory-and-sky · 5 months

Note

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

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

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

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

the rest of the headcanons are under the cut!

“dating” headcanons

hobie brown x male!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought you said you hated labels…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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dailyunstableeve · 8 months

Text

Family issues

For comfort purposes-

(And also cuz I have fam issue so I thought it would be great if I write it out ;-;)

Hobie Brown x Fem reader

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .

For this generation, it's already a normal case for you to have family issues and dramas.

And in the household, you were always the child who got bad mouth by anyone in the family so you always got into an argument with them.

You would slam your door so loud and push your shelf against the door so no one could come into your room.

You took out your phone, searching for the one person's name, Hobie.

You texted Hobie, a second later, he already replied.

"I'm on my way."

You and Hobie have been dating for two years, you and Hobie first meeting is when he decided to hit the school's studio, trying out his new guitar and you were just passing by. You observed him from the small window next to the door like a simp (aren't we all are-) you fell in love with him immediately because of his 'doesnt care about what other people say' personality while you were so caught up by your family.

"Pss pss," you heard Hobie from your window, you leaned out the window and found him hanging upside down on your roof.

"Hobie," you couldn't help but smile the moment you saw him.

"I'm here to pick up my luv, my doll," he smirked and gave you a kiss, "c'mon, I'm sure they won't know you're out."

"Well I did leave the shelf blocking the door," you chuckled and held onto Hobie, he had his arm around your waist, holding you tight as he swung you away from your house.

You rested your head on his shoulder during the whole swing ride, you felt him warm and you felt happy and safe with him.

Hobie would bring you to your favorite quiet spot of the city, so he could listen to everything you say, allowing you to rant about how awful your family has treated you.

Hobie's hand will rested on your thigh most of the time since his love language is physical touch (saw it appear in many hc so yea) and he would wipe away your tears if you feel so suffocated about your family issues, brushes your hair to side just to able see your whole beautiful face, aching his heart to see his angel in this much of pain.

Hobie would hug you if you looked like you needed one(which you always do), caressingly giving you head pats.

If Hobie has his guitar with him, he would play you a melody as he hums alongs it.

He would do anything to make sure you have a smile on your face, a smile that you truly meant, not some fake smile because he knows you too well.

Because Hobie is your boyfriend, you won't hesitate to bring him along when it comes to family gathering events since your siblings or cousin will be bringing their partners as well so you would ask Hobie to show up as well.

You and Hobie surely hated the family gathering event, because whenever they saw you and Hobie having fun together at the gathering, they would walk up to you and try to set you down, telling Hobie, he's better off without you, which makes Hobie snap at your family.

Hobie would tell them how perfect you are, without a second thought.

"What 'bout it? You're just jealous she's better than you."

That's what he would say because for him, you're better and perfect than anyone he knows.

"I love you Y/N, you gotta remember that, no matter what other people say about you, I will always love you, you got me?"

And when you're 18, and you're planning to move out, Hobie would gladly help you with it.

Masterlist

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httpsjeonglvr · 9 months

Note

could i request hobie brown with a "goody two shoes" reader who is also a spider person? at first he thinks they're just really naive but in reality they're just really scared of making a mistake and disappointing miguel

Every since Hobie had met you he thought you were kind of annoying since you would follow behind Miguel like a lost puppy or would get upset when others disobeyed him. You on the other hand couldn't stand him because it seemed like he purposely disobeyed to annoy you.

You were currently following behind Miguel as he told you the current news updates until you felt someone bump into you causing you to drop your papers. You looked up annoyed to see Hobie who was smirking down at you.

“Sorry love didn't see you”

You groaned hurriedly picking up your papers since Miguel had kept walking not noticing you had fallen behind. Hobie watched you before sighing pulling you up off the floor.

“Why are you always up his ass?”

“Because someone needs to follow directions”

You had noticed Miguel was far gone and slapped your hands over your face before crouching down next to the wall as you shoved your papers into your folder. You looked up at Hobie who had that stupid smirk on face and you wanted to smack it off because now Miguel was going to yell at you for leaving when he was talking to you.

“Are you happy now?”

“I don’t know am I?”

“What do you have against me?”

“Why are you always following him around like some shadow?”

“Because I need to make up for your guys’ mistakes!”

You walk away after your little outburst your papers shoved into your folder as you ran in the direction Miguel left. Needless to say, Miguel had yelled at you and told you to not come to work if you can't follow simple directions.

You had walked into your apartment with a handful of groceries when you noticed someone in the corner of your eye,you threw the cereal boxes from your bag at the person and heard a British voice curse as hobie walked up to you with a frown as he held his head.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?!”

“I came to apologize to you for last week”

You stared up at him as you walked over to your kitchen to put your stuff away as Hobie followed. You looked up at him expectantly as he began to apologize and explain how work has been unorganized since you left.

You laughed at him when he told you about Miguel yelling at everyone since no one was following behind him to take notes about each mission.

“Please come back he’s been annoying as hell since you left”

“We’ll see”

You had obviously came back because you didn’t want Miguel going all feral on everyone,Miguel didn’t say it aloud but he was glad you came back because you were the only one who listened and you reminded him of someone in his past.

The ending sucked I’m sorry😭

#atsv x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie fanfic #hobie brown x y/n #atsv hobie #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie x gender neutral reader #atsvxplussizedreader #astv x reader #httpsjeonglvr

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sucka4pain · 10 months

Text

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏 ♡︎

After dating for so long, you have finally gained Hobie’s trust enough to play with his hair

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cursing, pet names (love, darling, babe,) Hobie being a teaser, and just sweet sweet fluff<3

A/n: it’s like 4 am and I decided to write this small thing so I apologize for any spelling mistakes, I’m really tired lmao:)

“Please!!” Y/n practically begged.

“No issa’ no babe.” Hobie spoke as he continued to dry off his wet body after he finished his shower. He looked behind him to see her still looking at him with a small pout on her face.

“Ya’ know I don’t like people touchin ma’ hair darling.” He said before walking out the bathroom and to their shared bedroom with Y/n following behind him, still begging to play with his hair.

She sits down on the bed as she watches Hobie change into some clothes. “Not only that, ma’ hair takes time to manage. So if ya’ mess it up, you gon have ta fix it ya?” He asked as she nodded excitedly.

“You’re lucky I’ve been datin you long enough for ya’ to gain my trust to play wit ma hair.” He sits between her legs with his back turned to her.

“Have fun, just don’t mess it up..” He mutters making Y/n smile. She carefully lifts up one of her hands and gently placed it on his hair.

Wow..it’s so soft!

She thought as her smile got bigger. Her fingertips carefully played with his coiled curls and try’s her best to not mess up his hair or get it tangled.

And it smells good too! I wonder what products he uses

The scent of Hobie’s hair filled Y/n’s nose as she softly digger her fingers deeper into his hair until the tips of her fingers were met with his scalp. The tips of her nails scratched his scalp making him hum and roll his head up against her fingers.

“That feels nice?” She asked.

“Nice? It feels fuckin’ amazing, should have trusted you more earlier if dis is what it felt like.” He ranted but then silencing himself shortly after to enjoy the peaceful atmosphere and the feeling of Y/n’s fingers play with his hair and massage his scalp.

She continued to massage his head before sneaking in her other hand to give him double relaxation. The second he feels her other hand in his hair as it played with his curls and her original hand still massaged his head, he felt like he was in heaven.

He laid his head back on her lap and looked up at her. “You’re really cute from here love.” He told her making her face turn red. He smirks seeing her flushed face and continuing to let out hums in satisfaction from the pleasure he’s getting.

“Enjoy this moment, don’t be a tease now.” She told him as her hands switched jobs. The hand that was playing with his hair is now massaging his scalp and the one that was massaging his scalp is now playing with his curls.

“By the way, what products do you use? Your hair smells amazing!” She spoke as he opened his eyes and smiles yet again.

“ ‘m not sure love, why don’t ya join me next time to find out for ya self hm?” He says as his smirk grew wider seeing her face get flushed again.

She removed her hands from his hair and crossed her arms. “Alright I’m done.” She said looking away to try to give her face some time to relax from the teasing that Hobie was giving her.

“Ya can’t be mad at me for too long babe.” He said chuckling as his lanky arms reached for her hands and puts her hands back on his hair.

“You wanted this, so enjoy it while it lasts ya?” He cocked a brow while grinning.

2023-2024©𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐚4𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧-- 𝐃𝗼 𝐧𝗼𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐬��𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝗺 𝗼𝐫 𝐜𝗼𝐩𝐲 𝗺𝐲 𝐰𝗼𝐫𝐤-- 𝐜𝗼𝗺𝗺𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝗼𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝗼𝗺𝐞𝐝!!

#hobie spiderverse #hobie x y/n #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie x reader #spiderman #spider punk #spider man across the spider verse #spider man atsv #hobie fluff #hobie fanfic #spider man atsv fluff

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angels-n-lovelyroses · 11 months

Text

Hobie with a small pink n feminine girlfriend who goes to all his concerts , rallies and spiderpunk adventures w/ him jfdklsjk

#hobie x reader #hobie brown #fem!reader #hobie x fem!reader #hobie fanfic #hobie fanfiction #just a thought #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x yn #yn

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rottindecay · 8 months

Text

Hobie Brown x sick!reader

Warnings: very bad British writing tbh (not much but yknow.)

Story: reader is sick and Hobie takes care of them.

A/N: funny how I decided to write this when me myself, is very sick. LOLL

*reblogs, notes n comments are much appreciated >O<!!*

Once you had woken up you felt somewhat dizzy, ears were bothering you and a slight headache. You didn’t think much of it though, you just thought you were feeling like this because you had just woken up. Once you had woke up, Hobie started to wake up as well. A slight groan left his lips as he rubbed his forehead, then sliding his hand down his face before looking down at you and flashing you a sleepy smile.

“Mornin’ luv.”

He craned his neck slightly to be able to kiss your face lovingly.

“Morning.”

You smiled up at him before kissing his cheek. You then started to try to leave the bed so you could get on with your days but Hobie soon pulled you back onto the bed and covering your face and neck in sloppy morning kisses, earning a giggle from you. You guys ended up staying in bed for about 15 more minutes before getting up and doing your guy’s morning routine. Though you finished first then Hobie and being the sweet person that you are, decided to make breakfast for both you guys.

As you heard punk music blasting from the bathroom and hearing Hobie scream along to them, you started on making breakfast. One pan with four bacon pieces and one pan with four eggs. As you started to flip them so one side wouldn’t get more burnt than the other side- that same feeling you had when you woke up was still lingering with you. You tried to shake the feeling off before feeling arms warp around your waist, making you smile. Hobie hugged you tightly from behind, burying his face into your neck for a few moments before pressing his cheek against yours about to say something about how good it smelt before looking at you with his pierced brows furrowed and his head tilted to the side slightly.

“Luv, your face is really hot.”

His deep voice rang in your ears as he brought up one of his large hands to feel your face. It was placed on your cheek, feeling his calloused palm on it for a moment before feeling the back of his hand on it. This process continued on your other cheek and forehead. It felt nice feeling some sort of coldness on your face, closing your eyes for a bit and sighing enjoying the feeling.

“Why don’t you let me finish breakfast, yeah?”

He smiled at you before pecking your forehead then gently taking the spatula and pans away from your hands to finish up what you started.

“Hobie It’s fine- i can do it. I don’t feel that ba-“

You were saying before you were cut off, looking back into his dark brown eyes.

“I said let me do it. You’re quite obviously sick, luv. So just- sit there and look pretty, hm?”

Hobie smirked before turning back to look down at the pan, the bacon and eggs sizzling sounds was bothering your ears slightly but you just sighed as you felt your cheeks get slightly warmer. Was it because you were getting worse? Or because you were blushing over Hobie?

You then started to make you way to the island in your shared kitchen, sitting down with your chin placed on your palm getting slightly dizzy. But as soon as you closed your eyes that felt like just a moment to you, Hobie was already done with breakfast. He placed a plate in front of you, the smell of freshly cooked bacon and eggs hitting your nose as Hobie continued to look at you with slight concern.

“Sleeping again already?”

She chuckled before placing his hand on your head for a minute before opening his mouth again to speak.

“Wait right here, I’ll be back. Just eat your breakfast.”

He soon then started to walk away from you as you took a bite out of your bacon, confused on what he was doing to do before shrugging slightly and turning back to your plate. Your dizziness got slightly worse the more the minutes passed by. You didn’t even felt like eating anymore because of this so you just placed your half eaten bacon back onto your plate and groaning. Your hand reached up to your forehead, leaning against it as your elbow supported the weight of it on the counter with your eyes closed yet again. God you felt so horrible.

After a bit of waiting, you opened your droopy eyes again to see where Hobie had gone off to. It’s been a while since he left, telling you to just eat your meal and as soon as you looked over to your side Hobie was there walking back to you with something in hand.

“Sorry for takin’ so long luv but here- put this in your mouth, under your tongue.”

He told you, reaching out a thermometer to you. You looked down at it as you parted your lips and moving your tongue upwards to the roof of your mouth and soon feeling the cold rod touch the bottom of your mouth. You then closed your lips once more, looking down at the floor as Hobie took your temperature. Everything felt hot and cold to you right now and you just wanted the feeling to stop, it was just getting annoying at the point really.

After a bit more of waiting, you started to hear a beeping sound coming from the thermometer then soon feeling Hobie pull out the rod to look at the numbers. You looked up at him through your lashes, sleepiness taking over you like you hadn’t had a good sleep in days.

“100.1”

Hobie stated as he looked back at you with his thick brows furrowed a bit. He sighed as he placed his free hand behind your head and placing a sweet kiss on your temple before placing the thermometer down on the counter then making his way to the medicine cabinet and taking a bottle of medicine out and a small plastic cup. He read the back of the bottle to check how much of the medicine he has to give you before pouring it into the small cup, making sure it was just right before walking back over to you.

“Luv you gotta finish your food so you could drink this.”

Hobie says as he motions the small cup to you then placing it next to your plate.

“I really don’t want to Hobie. I don’t feel good and if I eat this I swear to god I’m gunna throw up.”

You responded back, putting your hand over your face as your brows furrowed and a slight pout on your lips showed as the dizziness washed over you. You then felt hobies cold hand rub your back gently as he took your hand away from your face so he could get a better look at you.

“Well- try to eat at least half of it so the medicine won’t affect you as much, yeah?”

Hobie tried to encourage you to eat as you side eyed him before groaning, closing your eyes as you let your head drop for a moment before picking it back up to finish at least half of your meal. Despite literally wanting to throw up all your insides as you ate your breakfast, Hobie smiled before kissing the side of your head.

“Atta girl.”

He continued to stay by your side, rubbing your back gently to try to help you at least a little bit in a way as you continued to eat. As Hobie Said- you ate half of your food before wanting to throw in your towel and not wanting to eat anymore because you physically can not take anymore. Despite this- Hobie continued to praise you for doing a good job before handing you the small cup of liquid medicine and motioning you to drink it. You took the cup away from his hands, frowning at the smell of it before looking back at him.

“Take it like a shot. Cmon t’ll help ya feel be’ter.”

A small smile appears on your lips as you looked back down at the small plastic cup. You took a deep breath in before placing it on your lips and swallowing the medicine as fast as you could do you wouldn’t be able to taste it much. A sour look washed over your face as you gave the small cup back to Hobie, looking away from him as you despised the way it tasted in your mouth. You heard Hobie snicker at your reaction before taking the now empty cup away from you before kissing your cheek.

“See? Ya did great luv.”

He smiled, showing you his teeth before taking the cup and your plate and placing the plastic cup in the sink and the plate still filled with half of your uneaten breakfast next to the sink to be dealt with later. There are more serious matters at hand right now than silly dishes.

After that he went back to you, placing his hand on your shoulder as he spoke.

“Cmon, let’s get you back to bed.”

Hobie spoke as you got up from your chair and walking with him back to your shared room. Though the room wasn’t very far from the kitchen, you didn’t want to walk all the way back. You still felt too dizzy to even think straight and the sickness was taking over you quickly. This didn’t go unnoticed by Hobie before soon picking you up bridal style and walking you back to your room. You didn’t have enough energy to protest, and even if you did Hobie would just shoot your protest down immediately saying that it was just full of nonsense.

You leaned your head against his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his neck, fluttering your eyes closed just until he took you back to your bed. And soon enough you felt you back touch the soft mattress you share with Hobie then soon opening your eyes to look up at him through your heavy lashes. He showed you a lazy smile before kissing the bridge of your nose.

“Let me grab ya a cold towel for that head of yours.”

he said as his hand was touching your head then soon letting go of it as he walked away from you, leaving you on the mattress by yourself. Your brows furrowed as you curled up into a ball as the sickness started to get worse. You just wanted to pass out so you wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore. When you were laying down with your eyes closed, you still felt like the world around you continued to spin as fast as it could. It was fucking horrible. As you continued to drown in how you were feeling at the moment, you felt a hand touch the side of your head to move it slightly so Hobie could place the cold towel on your head as you tried to open your eyes to get a look at him but your eyelids just felt too heavy as you groaned slightly. The feeling of the cold towel felt nice on your heated skin though, making you calm down slightly.

“Awe, my sick baby.” Hobie teased with a slight chuckle leaving his parted lips. “D’ya need anythin’ else, luv?”

he titled his head slightly to the right as he looked down at your closed eyelids. you shook your head no as you pulled the covers up to your nose. Hobie felt his heart squeeze in his chest as he looked down at the site thinking that you were just oh-so-adorable when you’re like this but also feeling bad that you were sick. He planted a few more kisses on your face with a smile on his lips, feeling the cold metal of his lips piercings touch your skin with every peck he gave you. Despite him not being able to see it, you smiled at the affection he was giving you.

“get well soon, luv.”

he whispered into your hair as he placed one final kiss on the top of your head before leaning back, his smile never disappearing as he looked down at your sleepy state.

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kit-and-wolfe · 1 month

Text

Battle of the Bands

Hobie, Miguel, Gabriel, Gwen and 1st person pov OC / MC

New Adult magical realism AU (obvi) brain worm that has grown from a 2-shot screenplay for some fun comics into a monster. This fic is like Tremors in my brain.

The summer before college MC, Gabriel O'Hara, and Miguel O'Hara go on an international road trip with their metal band, Neon Requiem. Destination? BandFest, the Battle of the Bands in London guaranteed to secure the winning band a record deal. They meet other ATSV characters along the way.

No mention of Y/N / Reader, written from 1st person POV. Self-insertion is made easier by fewer details about the MC.

Notes on language: Tried my best here, if you are a native speaker of French, let me know if the MC's French is unnatural and I will love you forever.

Romance, angst, and poorly understood music concepts are often written as having a distinct visual component because I am an artist first. <

@pinksugarscrub @the-kr8tor I DID THE THING!

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Chapter 1 - “Vous êtes maître de votre vie et de vos émotions, ne l’oubliez jamais. Pour le meilleur et pour le pire”

The Rusty Nail's neon whir and raucous rhythms had been muted to a melancholy hum that evening, it was a ghost town, the emptiness of the dimly lit bar echoing with decades of unfulfilled longings. I nursed my drink, letting the smoky burn of liquor etch contours of quiet contemplation onto my throat as I surveyed the handful of kindred souls keeping solemn vigil. Life had been feeling heavy, and I needed to write, to make art, and to get lost in music.

At the far end of the bar hunched a beautiful wraith, his slim, angular frame sheathed in torn denim and studded leather. Something indefinable shimmered around him, unsung poetry, snippets of melodies, a symphony I could see and hear and almost touch. Drawn like a moth to the lambent glow of the music, I slid onto the stool beside the ethereal punk spectre. In my mind's eye, I crowned him the prince of punk, a fairy tale rebel.

Our bodies brushed intimately in the cramped space, raising ghosts of sensation along the exposed skin of my fishnets. "Wozzat, luv?" he murmured, kohl-rimmed eyes flickering over the point of contact with a soldering heat.

Mon dieu, {My God} Had I spoken my admiration aloud? A flush crept up my cheeks as I scrambled for a response.

"Désolé. Je répétais quelque chose pour ne pas l'oublier… Need to write it down before I lose it," {Sorry. I was repeating something so I wouldn't forget it…} I mumbled, a flimsy excuse for my wandering mind.

Fumbling through my bag ,I pulled out my tattered notebook, fingers trembling as I scribbled down a scrap of verse inspired by the punk's incandescent presence beside me. I scribbled my observations in hasty strokes. The dying light of day bled into night, a liminal space that begged for a soundtrack. I could almost hear it, a melody just out of reach, shimmering in the smoky air.

"The liminal light of late afternoon, yawning into early evening…" I muttered, pulling on the strings of the melody, trying to draw it back to me. "I don't want to be loved for the things that I don't do. I don't want to be just a pretty face, I want to be a work of art…We are all just works of art."

The jukebox fell silent, making my mutterings around sift and strange, slightly unhinged---but the punk prince remained---his gaze heavy on my skin. I met his stare, unflinching. Unabashed curiosity flickered in eyes, wide brown and doe-like, framed by lashes so lush they seemed to blur the line between masculine and feminine, earthly and ethereal. I found myself dizzied by warring impulses - to flee this unsettling intimacy, or be consumed by it wholly.

He was a changeling, gorgeously androgynous: part punk Mona Lisa with a Cheshire cat grin, part Jean-Michel Baptiste, part force-of-fucking-nature. He made me feel like a background character in his story, could be a punk fairy princess, and I would be the dragon. My thoughts raced, fragments of poetry and half-formed desires. I scribbled faster, chasing the threads of inspiration, but a nudge from my prince brought me back to earth.

Snatches of poetry, raw and unfinished, that I urgently longed to refine on the page before they dissipated like the last wisps of smoke in a spent ashtray. But the punk's aura dragged me too deeply into devotional reverie. I glanced up apologetically as my concentration scattered, the thread of inspiration slipping through my fingers once more.

The bartender had sprouted up directly in front of me, and she eyed me expectantly. Her hair was a shock of blue curls and silver streaks shorn close to her scalp, it made her eyes seem more gray. Her skin etched with lines that mapped out the years like a roadmap. I felt the familiar pang of a poem lost to the ether.

"Un…Jack Daniel's, s'il vous plaît," {A…Jack Daniel's, please} I said, no longer able to filter its lilt from my words, as I wasn't paying attention to dulling it.

"Blimey, that's a proper choice, innit? You 'ere for the battle of the bands event this week, love?"

"Oui, how did you know?" {Yes, how did you know?}

"Just a…sense," he demurred with a wicked grin. "Call it a punk's intuition, darling. I'm in the mix too, y'know."

The bartender chuckled as she set my drink down. "You mean because everyone is here for Bandfest? Don't listen to this one, lovey, he's incorrigible. The crowds will be in later on, but you're a bit early."

"Shh, Roz. Who's up tonight?" The prince asked, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Oh, you want insider information? What's in it for me?"

"Givin' away free tattoos, could autograph yer arm, love."

"I'll pass, thanks. The brackets are up in an hour anyway. It's Night Terrors vs. Death Rapture, Blood Prophecy vs. Cherry Bomb, Spider Punks vs. Neon Requiem…"

"Why are the punk bands going up against the metal bands?" I asked, just as the prince inquired about Phantom Pulse.

"There wasn't a lot of quality competition this year, or that's what the sponsors said, so they automatically advance to the semifinals since they won last year."

"Bollocks!" The prince cried, his outrage palpable.

"Oi Punk, you don't want to sign with Vic Luna at Zenith Music Group, anyway."

"Tu…ne le fais pas? Mais pourquoi?" {You…don't? But why?} The words tumbled out, my curiosity getting the better of me. At her blank stare, I repeated the question in English, heat rising to my cheeks.

Roz leaned in, her voice low, "Look kid, it's complicated…"

The prince rolled his eyes, a sneer playing at his lips. "Betrayed a lot of good bands."

"You don't need to remind me, Punk, I lived through it. Despite the changes at Zenith Music Group, they still organize the annual Bandfest, which showcases both established and emerging talent in the punk and metal scenes. The event is highly respected within the community and provides a platform for bands to gain exposure and connect with fans," the bartender continued, her words stilted, rehearsed.

"Ay, and they are the sponsor bringing in your crowds." The prince's voice was sharp, laced with an emotion I couldn't quite place.

"The only time we're out of the red, punkass. We'd have to shut down if it weren't for the Battle." She said heavily, "Which is the greater evil, we are a place of refuge for several members of the community, not just you."

"You don't need to remind me Roz, I'm living through it. Right, I'll stop ragging on the corporate sods for now, until you have some plausible deniability." He raised his hands in mock surrender, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.

"There's a good Punk." Roz smiled, sliding him another pint before retreating.

I made a mental note to warn my bandmates about Vic and Zenith's sordid history. We were in this for the music, not the money, no one played metal for the money--but it never hurt to be cautious.

"Roz is like the den mother of the London punk scene, a living testament to grit and resilience, and screaming yourself hoarse at basement shows. Dream t'be like her when I grow up. To listen without judgment, offer advice without preaching, and know when to slide a shot of whiskey across the bar and when to cut you off. She has a way of looking at you, really seeing you, like you matter… like you are more than just another face in the crowd." His voice trails off, heavy with emotion. He blinks and shakes it off.

"Can I see it?" The prince's voice cut through our lost thoughts, his fingers reaching for my notebook.

I clutched it to my chest, a knee-jerk reaction. "Can you look into my very soul, like Roz?"

His smirk widened, that Cheshire cat grin that set my heart racing. He nodded, a challenge in his eyes.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he purred, and I felt my stomach flip. I repeated the phrase in my mind, first in French, then in English, just to be sure I'd heard him right. Wasn't this some flirty idiom?

"You have a book of poetry somewhere hidden in those skinny jeans, mon ami?" {my friend?} I ask, hesitant, double-checking his meaning. He flirts like others breathe.

In lieu of an answer, he produced a sharpie from thin air. Before I could protest, he had my arm in his grasp, his touch electric against my skin. I shrugged off my leather jacket, baring my arms to his ink-stained fingers. Roz chuckled as she set another drink before me, clearly amused by the prince's antics.

"You'll need it…I see you took this wanker up on the free tattoo offer. Don't let him draw any on your arms."

"Any? …Any what?"

"Wankers," she clarified with a laugh. It clarifies nothing, I need to study my British slang.

"I would not mar the flesh of such a beautiful and willing participant, Roz. Kindly fuck off," the prince mumbled around the sharpie cap clenched between his teeth.

Between the verses he scrawled, he peppered me with questions, his voice a giddy whisper.

"So, who's your poison, love? Which bands get your motor runnin'?"

"Ah, j'adore Rammstein, Gojira, et bien sûr, Motörhead. And so many others, doesn't even scratch the surface. Et toi?" {Ah, I love Rammstein... And you?}

"Proper choices, those. For me, it's the classics - Sex Pistols, The Clash, Buzzcocks. Real raw, in-your-face stuff, y'know?"

I leaned in, excited, but too close. I nearly jumped as my lips grazed the dusky shell of his ear. "Ah, un homme de bon goût! I've seen the Buzzcocks live, you know. Pure chaos, c'était incroyable!" {Ah, a man of good taste! I've seen the Buzzcocks live, you know. Pure chaos, it was incredible!}

"No bleedin' way! Metal chick like you? I'd give me left bollock to have seen the Sex Pistols live. But I did catch The Clash back in '07. Changed me life, it did."

"Lemmy, sans aucun doute. The man's a legend!" {Lemmy, without a doubt.} I declare into the bar.

"Oi, don't go disrespectin' Johnny, now! The bloke's a punk icon, 'e is!"

"You're a punk icon!" someone shouted from the back, but the prince waved them off with a grin.

"Oh, I didn't catch your name," I said, with a sudden shame, my brow furrowed.

"Everyone just calls me Punk. You can too. Just not dirty punk, we don't want to come to blows, do we, love?"

"I'd kick your ass, mon ami. Pas grand chose à donner, mon petit prince des fées… eh mon prince dégingandé, right? I would not describe you as petite even if you are skinny." {I'd kick your ass, my friend. Not much to give, my little fairy prince… eh my lanky prince, right?}

Miguel was at my side in an instant, all rippling muscle and furrowed consternation. "Carnalita, {little sis} why did you sneak out on practice just to drink in this hellhole?" he rumbled, disapproval lacing every sonorous word. Tenderness faded a bit.

I met his gruff chiding with an insouciant toss of my hair. "Salut, Miguel. Ça fait longtemps." {Hello, Miguel. It's been a while.}

"Is that Jack? No puedo mas… Carnalita…This shit is bad for you." {I can't take it anymore…little sis...}

"Je nais etre rond comme une queue de pelle. Tu es vraiment un trou de balle quand tu dis des choses pareilles!" {I would be round as a shovel handle. (Idiom, essentially she is saying ~ I was born to be drunk) You are really a dumbass when you say things like that!}

Miguel's grumbling stream of Spanish reprimands washed over me as I settled into our familiar dynamic - the tender yet terse cantata of friend and protector that had composed them score of our relationship since childhood. For all his bluster, I knew every arrhythmic cadence encoded Miguel's steadfast affection.

Only Gabriel's soft interjection could salve the rising discord. "You worry too much, Miggy. We've been practicing all week."

He cast me a plaintive glance, silently pleading for conciliation, and I grudgingly obliged with an internal eyeroll. "Qu'il aille se faire! C'est vraiment chiant tu te rends compte." {Let him go fuck himself! It's really annoying, you know.}

Heedless of my saucy french asides, Miguel merely drew a fortifying breath before continuing in that maddening timbre of unrelenting reason. "Gabri and I could have come out with you. You shouldn't go out alone in an unknown city - it's not safe for you, mi carnalita."

The prince leaned towards us with a lazy smirk, "S'not that serious. The Rusty Nail is safe enough." He paused as the bartender snorted in agreement before continuing, "We're keeping the lady safe, mate…you can trust me, I'm one of the Spider-Punks."

Miguel simply sneered at the prince's proffered handshake, dismissing it out of hand. "You have arms like sticks. How would you keep her safe?"

The punk's smirk widened as he shrugged. "Ah, one of those. Never skip leg day, eh bruv?"

I strangled a guffaw as Gabriel hastened to run interference, engulfing the punk's hand eagerly. "We've heard of you guys, the local punk band, yeah? Your drummer is…gahh…Ah-Mazing! You think we could meet?"

"You call that punk noise "rock"?" Miguel scoffed. "Metal is where the real skill lies…Real talent is in the complexity, the technical skill. Metal pushes boundaries, takes you to new places. Punk's just three chords and an attitude."

I rolled my eyes. At this rate, I'd have to drag Miguel out before he started a brawl.

"Ah, mais non, Miggy. There's art in simplicity too. Punk, metal, it's all about the energy, the message, non?" {Ah, but no, Miggy. There's art in simplicity too. Punk, metal, it's all about the energy, the message, right?}

Miguel grunted, but squeezed my hand.

I stood, motioning for him to lean in close. "Allez, let's save the competition for the stage, d'accord? I learned some things about the record company. We should talk in private." {Come on, let's save the competition for the stage, okay?}

The prince unfolded himself, towering over me. "Tell you what, mate. Let's settle this on stage. We'll let the crowd decide who's got the real chops," he challenged.

Gabriel chimed in, "Pero, mana's right, Miguel." {But, sister is right, Miguel.}

Miguel looked ready to explode, but Gabriel's eyes held him in check.

"Music's music. Let's just focus on putting on a good show, and maybe we can learn something from their band, eh?" Gabriel said.

The prince leaned in, lips grazing my cheek. "Aye, love. Can't wait to teach your wall of meat here a thing or two. How about we give 'em a show they won't forget…later?"

I grinned, "Oui! A collaboration? Here… Ça ne casse pas trois pattes à un canard…mais, pour vous. I want it back later." {Yes! A collaboration? Here…It doesn't break three duck legs (Idiom ~ It's nothing special) …but, for you. I want it back later.}

The lanky punk sauntered off, his studded boots leaving faint trails of glitter on the barroom floor. Miguel's scowl deepened as he watched him depart, fists clenched tightly.

"Is that your poetry notebook?" he growled, voice rumbling low.

"Yes, I traded it to the punk faerie for these tattoos, I smirked, revealing the vine-like scrawl of ink now adorning my flesh like raised scars from whipping brambles.

Miguel's face darkened further, storm clouds gathering at my words. "The one you never let anyone touch or read…"

His voice strangled to a whisper, and I could not parse the complex calculus of emotions flitting behind his eyes

Gabriel placed a calming hand on his brother's arm.

"Easy, hermano {brother}. He's not worth it," Gabriel said in a soothing tone.

"Be nice, Punk is a good guy. I like him," I countered softly, a warm glow blossomed within me as I realized my entire arm was now a crawling garden of sentences entirely in French.

Miguel opened his mouth, undoubtedly to unleash a heated retort, but Gabriel cut in, "Should we go look at the brackets to see who we're facing?"

"It looks like my entire arm is covered with quotes from The Little Prince, which happens to be my favorite book. It's actually quite a sweet gesture," I said softly, fingertips grazing the raised words like treasured runes.

With renewed curiosity, I examined the ink quote now etched on my skin: "Vous êtes maître de votre vie et de vos émotions, ne l'oubliez jamais. Pour le meilleur et pour le pire." {You are the master of your life and your emotions, never forget that. For better or worse.}

I didn't mention the lone scrawl that could have been a phone number hidden amidst the literary foliage now vining my limb. Miguel was in full-on Dad mode, and I didn't need to add fuel to that particular fire.

"I already know the competition for the quarterfinals, we don't need to waste our time. Come on, manos {used as slang for brother}, we're going to kick some ass!" I giggled brightly, elated at my new 'tattoos' scrawling up my arms. I didn't put my leather jacket back on, I didn't want to cover any of it up.

Miguel's glare never wavered, his eyes fixed on the far side of the bar where the prince had disappeared into the crowd. "Don't tempt me. Let's go, carnalita {little sister}, time for practice."

With a resigned sigh, I surrendered to my brothers' insistent tugs, allowing them to lead me from the Rusty Nail. But the punk prince's parting words still reverberated through my mind like the lingering notes of a siren song. Later, he had purred, that single hushed syllable seeming to contain all the intoxicating lure of a siren's call - equal parts velvet promise and brazen challenge, twined inextricably into an enchantment I could not resist. The whole damn bar was a sailor's nightmare.

#across the spiderverse #hobie x reader #hobie spiderverse #hobie fluff #hobie brown #astv hobie #spider punk #au spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel fanfic #hobie fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #gabriel o'hara

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annie-blackhill · 2 months

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People Watching

Hobie Brown x reader (no use of Y/N)

A/N: Very self-indulgent, I'm just writing this for funsies. Also a lousy try at Hobie's cockney accent lesgooo! This is also my first Hobie Brown fic damn!

You were used to being the third wheel whenever you went on outings with your best friend and her boyfriend. You didn't have many friends. When you had entered university, you had expected to at least gain more friends and start enjoying life more instead of being as introverted as you used to be in high school. But it was all the same, you only had your best friend since childhood as always.

You were used to being the only one attending parties and meet-ups alone. You didn't mind, since you believed that it was better to not love at all if you were just going to end up dating or loving the wrong person.

Maybe your issues with love was caused by something even more deeper, something that latched onto your soul and ate away at yourself. Maybe it was how parents had seemed so in love and ended up breaking apart anyway. Maybe it was how you had witnessed the people around you fall in and out of love so easily, as if the emotion itself was just something extremely fickle. Maybe it was how your best friend had fallen in love so many times with the wrong people and gotten herself hurt or hurt someone else countless times.

Love was a confusing emotion. You can feel it seep deep into your bones and heart as it lays there while it spreads its warmth throughout your entire body. Love can also cut deeper than other emotions. Ironic it is how the emotion that can bring immeasurable joy also causes just as much pain.

It had been a normal party, it was supposed to be a normal outing where you would third-wheel your best friend and her boyfriend again, as usual. But this time, her boyfriend had brought his own best friend.

Hobie Brown was tall, very tall. He was lean and good-looking. It was almost unbelievable how he was also single and being a fourth wheel.

"Oy, get a room you two!" Hobie yelled at your best friend's boyfriend and was flipped off by the other.

Hobie and you decided to stay by the drinks table, the two of you weren't familiar with anyone else at the party save for the couple that had dragged the both of you here.

You observed Hobie out of the side of your eye. Hobie was obviously a punk, his clothing was loud and interesting, it piqued your curiosity. He had tattoos and a piercings. The more you looked at Hobie, you couldn't help but wonder how he was single.

"Ya should snap a pic, dove, it'll last ya longer," Hobie teased, he had noticed that you had been observing him for a while now.

You shrugged off his comment with a chuckle as you turned to face him fully, "Are you really single? Can't seem to believe that someone like yourself would be single."

"Aye, love, am just people-watchin' until I find my one, ya get it?" Hobie replied with a chuckle, you noticed that he was obviously amused by your question.

That caught you off guard. It was rare for you to find someone else that was like you, someone who was just waiting for their one person, while they watched others fall in and out of love.

You took a sip of your drink, non-alcoholic since you were tasked with driving, "Didn't expect that answer, honestly."

"What, ya expected me to be a playboy or somethin', doll?" Hobie joked, drinking his own non-alcoholic beverage.

You chuckled to yourself, confirming Hobie's suspicions, "I'm sorry for assuming, Hobie."

"Nah, yer fine, I've got worse assumptions. Must be mah killer looks, eh? Got you thinkin' I date all the girls I get?" Hobie joked, grinning and laughing.

As the night dragged on, you found that Hobie was really easy to talk to. He was funny and sweet. He never jumped to conclusions recklessly. He listened to you with so much curiosity and even encouraged you to continue talking when you felt like you had been rambling for too long. It was nice. You felt seen and heard. It was rare for you to feel like that with anyone these days.

"I gotta ask though, dove. Why's a nice one like you single?" Hobie had tilted his head to the side as he asked and you couldn't help but compare the sight to that of a cat.

"I'm just waiting for my one, too," you replied with a longing smile as you looked out at the crowd of couples.

Hobie looked in the same direction as you before he glanced back at you. He understood how you felt, he understood the loneliness that came from looking at couples in love.

Hobie seemed to be lost in thought for a moment before he handed his phone to you, the add contact screen was displayed.

"You want my number?" you asked, confused. It was unbelievably rare for your number to get asked by anyone, may it be a potential friend or lover.

"Yeah, dove. You're fun and I wouldn't mind hanging out with you, again," Hobie shrugged.

You smiled as you took his phone from him. You added your number to his contacts and Hobie's face lit up like a child on Christmas, it was a cute sight that made you giggle.

"It'll be a fair exchange if you gave me your number too, you know?" you joked playfully as you handed your phone to Hobie for him to add his number to your contacts.

Hobie was eager to give you his number, it seemed, with the way he took your phone with an excited smile and added his number to your contacts in under a few seconds.

As you checked over his contact info, you couldn't help but notice the contact name: Hobie <333. The contact name made you smile and giggle even, Hobie was really cute despite his rough exterior.

"Ey, dove, look 'ere," Hobie called for your attention as he showed you the name that he had saved your contact info.

Hobie had added hearts behind your name as well. He truly was really endearing.

As the night dragged on and you enjoyed Hobie's company as the two of you shared smiles and laughs, you couldn't help but think: Maybe I wouldn't need to live vicariously anymore. Maybe there's no need for people-watching anymore.

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A/N: Thank you for reading! I might write a part two if anyone is interested in this. This was just a fun idea that has been sitting in my mind for some time now. Hope you enjoyed! <333

This wasn't beta read by the way, so please tell me if there were any errors.

Please repost to support!

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xstarsmvxz · 11 months

Text

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 ✩

pairings ➜ hobie brown x kind!reader

warnings ➜ fluff, opposites attract, pet names, gn!reader, uses of weed, not proofread! i don’t really know what else?

word count ➜ 1.5k

M speaks! ➜ if you see the name “Asher” mentioned, it’s because that’s my cats name and I love her sm, she’s also so tiny cause she’s still a kitten so keep that in mind <3

➜ When Hobie first met you he honestly thought you were annoying.

➜ Your bright, optimistic attitude really got to him for some reason he didn’t know the answer to.

➜ You were way too kind for your own good, you always have a big smile gracing your face and you were constantly offering help to anybody who seemed like they needed it, even if they were a complete stranger!

➜ However, that kindness and happiness is what drew him in.

➜ He vividly remembers the day he realised you weren’t as bad as he thought.

You and hobie sat on either side of a soft grey sofa, waiting for Miguel to come back from wherever he rushed off to. Gwen and Pavitr sat on the sofa across from you guys, having their own conversation. You awkwardly played with the tips of your beat-up red and white converse, waiting for the courage to strike up a conversation. You softly clear your throat, “sooo.. where do you think he’s gone?” You hesitantly ask hobie. He doesn’t even glance your way when he replies in his thick accent, “dunno.”

You stare as he flicks a black ink pen in circles with his fingers. “That’s pretty cool, how do you do that?” You lean a little closer to him, trying to get a better look at how he’s doing it. He stares at you for a second, wondering why you’re all so interested in what he’s doing now. He slowly scoots himself a bit closer to you, feeling the slightest bit of warmth radiating from your body is a new type of comfort to him. “Like this..” He places the pen in between your thumb and index finger before he begins to slowly guide your fingers step by step. Your a bit stiff at first but once you memorise the movements you try it on your own. You start off slow but once you gradually get faster you drop the pen onto the floor. Muttering a small “oops” you lean down to pick it up and try again. Hobie slightly smirks as he watches you begin to spin the pen again.

After about seventeen tries you finally got it, spinning the pen skilfully in your hand you look up. “Hobie, Hobie look! Im doing it, oh my gosh!” You begin to get over excited, causing you to drop the pen again. Hobie let’s out a small laugh, leaning down to grab it from the floor. “Good job.” He praises as he begins to spin the pen in his own hand. “Thank you, Hobie..” You go back to fiddling with the tips of your shoes until an idea pops into your mind. “Hey, wanna draw on my shoes, they’re already pretty much ruined so it wouldn’t really matter.” He stops spinning the pen, taking the lid off of it and nodding his head. “Sure, why not.” He begins to draw small doodles on your shoes, such as small webs, spiders and pretty patterns. How ironic. You think to yourself as he draws a web with a spider hanging from it on the white part of your shoe.

Hobie smiles as you let out a small laugh, wondering what’s going through your mind. He continues to draw on your shoe as he thinks to himself. Your really not as annoying as he thought you were, you’re actually quite humble and soft. He begins to think about the friendship that potentially just bloomed between the two of you.

➜ Now let’s skip to when the two of you started dating.

➜ At first you were both kind of awkward. The two of you had only been friends for a couple months before you found yourself kissing him in your bedroom.

➜ you guys didn’t really go on dates, instead the two of you would normally just spend time together in your bedroom, watching movies or just having conversations about whatever comes to mind.

➜ he doesn’t really like “couple” things, but that doesn’t stop him from getting you small gifts whenever he can.

➜ some days he comes knocking at your apartment door, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hand.

➜ other days he will come to your house with smaller gifts like food or jewellery.

You sit on your bed, lying on your stomach with your feet in the air whilst you read a book that you borrowed from the library. Your cat sits next to you, purring in its sleep. Your head shoots up when you hear a loud knock coming from your apartment door. You place your book down next to your cat and walk out of your room, heading towards the door. Once you open the door, you come face to face with your boyfriend Hobie, who is holding a small bouquet of pretty flowers in his hand. You shyly smile, “Hi..” you greet. “Hey doll.” He extends his arm, placing the flowers into your ring adorned hand, all the rings he got you. “Hobie, they’re so pretty…” you stare at the flowers, touching one of the petals with your finger tips. “I love them! Thank you Hobes!” You give your boyfriend a bone crushing hug before running to your kitchen to fill a vase with water. You place the vase full of flowers in the middle of your small wooden circle table next to your couch.

You sit down with a sigh and beckon Hobie over. He sits next to you, placing his arm around your shoulders as you lean into his side. Just on queue, your grey cat Asher walks in, her fluffy tail swishing it the air as she jumps onto the sofa in between you and Hobie. You let out an airy laugh as you pet your attention seeking cat. “Who’s a pretty girl?” You ask your cat as if she can understand you, scratching her chin as she lets out soft purrs. It’s not long before you fall asleep, leaving Hobie to pet the ball of fluff sitting in his lap.

➜ once you guys get more comfortable with each other, the two of you are never seen without the other.

➜ Gwen literally thinks that you guys are meant to be in one body.

“You guys are literally always together, we might as well morph you both into one body!” Gwen says as she stares at the both of you sitting on the soft chair across from her, you sit on Hobies lap bridal style, leaning your head onto his comfy chest while he strokes your upper arm.

➜ At this point you tell Gwen everything about yours and Hobies relationship.

➜ She absolutely freaked out when she found out he was your first everything.

➜ And when I say first everything, I really do mean everything.

➜ he was your first kiss, first boyfriend and first person you ever slept with.

➜ He was always so patient and gentle with you, never forcing you into anything you didn’t want to do.

➜ In his eyes, you were so fragile and innocent. He was almost afraid to break you.

➜ One day, you begged him to let you smoke weed on the roof with him.

➜ You even had to get on your knees and beg before he finally agreed.

You sat next to Hobie, wearing one of his black jackets as you watch him roll a joint for you to share, he brings the joint to his lips before inhaling then exhaling the smoke into the cold night. He passes the joint to you, asking if you watched how he did it. “Yeah, yeah I did..” He watches as you slowly bring the joint to your own lips, inhaling the smallest amount before exhaling with a small cough. He laughs as he watches your eyes water a bit before you pass the joint back to him. “Didn’t like it?” He questions, taking another hit. “It wasn’t that bad, I just need to get used to it.”

➜ After that night you regularly found yourself sitting on that same roof, either smoking a bong or joint. Unlike Hobie, you liked bongs more, finding them easier to use.

➜ Though, the first time you used Hobies newly bought bong you choked, you were already high before hand so you and Hobie found it absolutely hilarious.

➜ The both of you fell into a laughing fit, holding onto your stomachs from the pain caused by laughing so much.

You lied on your back, holding onto your aching stomach as you uncontrollably laughed. “Hobes, help.. it feels like I’m growing abs!” At this point, tears were coming from both of your guys eyes.

➜ I imagine that at first he wasn’t really big on pda, he still isn’t but now that you guys have known each other for longer he’s a little more comfortable with it.

➜ The most public affection your probably going to get is a small peck on your lips.

➜ But his favourite thing to do is hold your hand, it brings him comfort and happiness knowing that you’re right beside him.

➜ Nicknames that he gives you consist of; love, my love, sweet, sweet stuff, babe and his personal favourite, sunshine.

➜ Overall your relationship is perfect for the both of you, neither of you could possibly want anything more or less.

➜ You were both unconditionally in love and nothing could ever change that.

masterlist

🕷🕸

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konigenblobbity · 9 months

Text

Drabble: Kisses Before Bed

Hobie x GN!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, Hobie being an absolute flirt

A/n: here’s a little something so I can test whether I’m still shawdowbanned <3 tumblrs not answering my support requests which is just lovely 😀 and I still can’t send messages. But enjoy!

—

As you walked into the apartment you and Hobie shared, you smiled as you spotted him cuddled under a blanket on the couch, sleeping peacefully. ‘Probably fell asleep waiting for me’ you thought as you softly closed the door behind you, as not to disturb him just yet.

After putting away your things, you walk over to the couch and kneel down next to him. Taking a moment to observe his tranquil state before lifting a hand and softly caressing his cheek. “Hobie… wake up” keeping your voice soft but not quiet.

After a few moments he began to stir, eyelids fluttering gently before his eyes open. Once he spots you he smiles lazily and lets out a tired groan. “Welcome back love… I was waiting for you” his voice still raspy with sleep making you chuckle softly.

“Could’ve waited for me in the bedroom” you tease and he just shakes his head. “And miss when you come home? Not a chance” he lifts a hand, placing it on the back of your head and pulling you down gently, placing a kiss on your lips which you happily melted into.

You let a soft hum before pulling away and standing up. “Cmon… let’s get to bed” you say and extend out a hand to help him up off the couch. He groans out slightly and gives you a playful pout. “Not yet, I want more of your kisses first” you roll your eyes at his words and shake your head.

“I’ll give you my kisses upstairs” you say but he just lets out a sigh. You pull away your hand and then just shrug. “Fine. Then I’ll just go upstairs and go to sleep alone… seeing as you don’t want my kisses” you then go to walk out of the living room. “Now that’s not fair!” Hobie calls out after you.

You look over your shoulder and see him getting off the couch, a smirk on his face causing you to pick up your pace and rush over to the stairs. “Too late… I’m actually feeling quite tired now” you let out an obnoxiously loud yawn, waving your hand over your mouth jokingly.

Hobie let’s out a chuckle behind you “Bollocks” At the sound of his hurried steps you run the rest of the way to your shared bedroom, hearing him speed up as well and run after you. You let out a giggle at your sudden game of tag.

The bed was in your sights when you felt Hobie’s arm wrap around your waist. “Gotcha!” his voice teasing and you let out a soft yelp as you feel him pick you up. “Hobie!” squirming in his arms but grinning widely giggles still pouring out from your mouth.

He carries you the rest of the way to the bed before throwing you onto it, another squeak escapes you when he did. His hand grabs at your hip and turns you onto your back, crawling over your body before caging you in with his arms. “So naughty… trying to escape my kisses” he tutts at you softly while shaking his head.

“You’re the one who didn’t want them” you say and shrug, going to crawl away but his hands grab your forearms, moving them above your head and pinning them down gently. “Yeah yeah… whatever” he rolls his eyes and then leans down, placing his lips on yours.

Both of you still had smiles on your lips, always feeling your hearts warm and melt when you were around each other. Hobie’s hands slid up from their place on your forearms, instead intertwining your fingers with his in such a tender way.

“You’ll have to kiss me all night to make up for it” He mumbled against your lips and you let out a soft chuckle “yeah yeah… whatever” you mocked and he chuckled too before kissing you again.

#konigenblobbity #hobie x reader #fanfiction #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie atsv #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse hobie #hobie x you #hobie brown x you #hobie fanfic

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flamingo-writes · 10 months

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Can you imagine that by being exposed to Hobie's "radioactivity" for so long, the reader begins to have powers? for example of nature,like Poison Ivy. That would definitely be fun to read.

I had to break my head with this idea, but I think it has potential for future fics!

Daffodil — Hobie x Reader

Warnings: cursing, and ai believe that’s all.

Word count: 580 words.

I might do more of these actually.

In the beginning, while figuring out Hobie’s spider abilities was a wild ride. Although, being the two peas of a pod that you were, you helped him figure everything out. Being the only who knew his secret drew you even closer if that was even possible.

What you didn’t consider was the radioactivity. You had theorised what had happened with the spider and the abilities, and while you had brought up radioactivity, you forgot about the tiny detail that radioactivity tended to affect everyone who was close to it.

The amount of time you spent with Hobie and the amount of time you spent tending to your plants, you started noticing weird things.

At first it was as easy and as wonderful as magically bringing your plants back to health. And then you started noticing plants coming out of your fingers.

After you freaked out, it was now Hobie’s turn to help you calm down, just like you’d done it for him back when he was bitten.

The discussion opened again, now trying to theorise now why this was happening to you.

When you finally arrived to the conclusion that it was perhaps because of Hobie’s radioactivity and your plants, Hobie asked you if you wanted to join him, raising the city, helping people who needed it.

“You know how fucking cool would that be?” Hobie said pulling you by the hips, bringing you closer to him. “My spider abilities, your plant abilities…”

“What could I do? Give people skin rashes with poison ivy?” You chuckled.

“You laugh about it, but it’s actually a good idea. My webs, your poison ivy plants��Not only we immobilise them, but you torture them with an awful itch and skin rash…” He said with a cheeky smirk.

“And how exactly would I be called? Plant-Girl sounds lame. Makes me sound like a hippie motherfucker,” You giggled softly.

“We have time to think about that…” He sighed. “How about Daffodil?”

“Are you serious?”

“They’re beautiful flowers, but they are very poisonous if you ingest them…” Hobie said proudly as he caressed your cheek.

“Who’s gonna eat a daffodil?”

“You’d be surprised with how stupid can people really be…” He chuckled.

For the next few weeks, while you learned how to use your newfound abilities, Hobie helped you out. Sadly, the plant-based abilities didn’t give you the enhanced physical abilities Hobie’s spider abilities. So you had a slight disadvantage there. However, you learned that your abilities could be incredibly powerful. Making plants grow everywhere, any sort of plant. You could mimic Hobie’s web.

However you used your abilities for the most part for protests and even art shows.

Hobie loved how you managed to create art out of plants, he thought it was beautiful. The same plants that got out of control when someone tried to cut the down.

“Capitalism is destroying nature, now we have nature taking over,” Hobie said proudly, as he watched a couple of cops tangled in the branches of a tree. “How does it feel to be completely useless against a tree?” Hobie said, poking fun at the cops, his Spider-Man suit concealing his identity.

Eventually people started hearing of Daffodil. Always wrecking havoc along with Spider-Man, although Daffodil remained more hidden, and wasn’t swinging around like Spider-Man. However, Daffodil usually left flowers behind, as a signature. Some bad guy or some abusive cop, tangled and immobilised in plants, usually poison ivy’s.

Hobie was insanely proud of you. And patrolling the city became the times more fun.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown #hobie x y/n #hobie fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #astv hobie #hobie brown x y/n #hobie x you

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memory-and-sky · 5 months

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hc hobie has terrible eyesight. he needs glasses so damn bad but always makes the mistake of taking them to shows and they always get smashed and messed up. he always finds them in inconvenient places, drops them, leaves them god knows where, and accidentally letting them fall off his face.

thinkin about how banged up his glasses would be. thinkin about hobie with glasses.,,,

#hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spider punk #atsv #spiderpunk #atsv hobie #spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #hobie x m!reader #hobie brown x male reader #hobie brown spiderverse #hobie fanfic #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown headcanons #hobie brown hcs

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dailyunstableeve · 6 months

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Together

Hobie Brown x witch!Fem!reader

Chapter One

Hobie Brown's Masterlist

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .

Magic, Spell, energy, aura, elements, and many more are the key for you to manifest whatever you want to.

You're born a witch, or so called mutant, but witch is the term you rather go with. Your power is a secret to everyone, not even those who are close to you, your family. You don't really have friends because people think you're a freak, due to your power, it gives people around you chills, just as if you're bad news. They aren't fully wrong, you think that too. Why were you born with this power? Why can't you just have a normal life?

Since you have the powers, you would try to help people in secret but only a little because sometimes it will get out of control which you managed to quickly fix before anyone finds out. After the multiple times of going out of control, you minimize your power usage, rarely occasionally light up a candle or fill up your drinks.

You always thought you're the only one, until the news is all over about a group of superheroes, the Avengers. Soon, there's more, X-Men and the Fantastic Four.

And SpiderMan. He usually works alone, he has this punk vibe, you would always spot him swing through the city with his guitar on his back, spiky spike on his head, torn out shirt on his suit and a vest with lots of badges.

Everyday, SpiderMan would swing above you and everyone who's heading to school, which gives you the idea that he goes to the same highschool as you. Face the fact, you admire SpiderMan, he doesn't need to worry about his web skills getting out of control, he can swing freely across the city and everywhere he goes, crime disappears even the Avengers and others are more focused on big events.

Turn to your highschool, no one talks to you, which gives you the free time to study more instead of socialize. Forgot to mention, you have a crush, due to your lack of social, and many people avoid you, when this one guy, Hobie Brown, he helped you times to times if he sees you in trouble which makes him the first person who does that to you and eventually, you can't help it but to catch feelings for him.

One thing that can be never understood is why Hobie would help you even with your title of being the creepy scary girl until the superhero you admired resting at the fire escape outside your window. It's your first time seeing SpiderMan right in front of you, just a few feet away, your bed to your window. Ever since then, you know that SpiderMan is Hobie Brown because you could see their aura, everyone's aura is different, or so you thought, after all, you have never met two people who have the same aura.

After that day, you have never stopped looking at people around you, wondering if you could see two same aura on two totally different people but everyone is all different.

Soon enough, high school is finally over, it's time for college or looking for jobs, you hesitated on both. Your scores have always been the best, continuing studying would be a great choice for you but your family's financial situation isn't stable.

Everything changed the moment some purple alien decided to invade your planet. You were running away from the war, eventually you gave up because you saw SpiderMan beaten on the ground, bleeding badly.

"Oh my god Hobie!" It just slipped out of your mouth, when you called out his name, SpiderMan used all his strength to look at you, unable to believe what you just called him. "Hang on, don't close your eyes,"

Your healing spells weren't the best but you could see the wound slowly recovering, the bleeding stopping. Spiderman just looked at you in disbelief, about how you're healing him, with your power that he has no idea about.

"Don't ask questions please," you quickly said because even with the mask, you can tell that SpiderMan wants to ask you a lot of questions.

Five minutes passed, and his wound was fully healed. You were about to flee the scene in case you were found out but how could SpiderMan let his life savior run around? He webbed you and started to swing you up the city, towards where all the superheroes were fighting the purple alien.

"Why are you here? You're assigned to protect the citizens," Captain America asked, when he saw you, he just let out a sigh.

"Don't worry Cap, she can help us," SpiderMan smirked.

"What can she do?"

"She just healed me, look!" SpiderMan showed his wound to Captain America.

"Well, we could use all the help we needed," Captain America said and ran off fighting the purple alien.

"Look luv, I believe in you, you can do this," SpiderMan patted your shoulders, "you're the most amazing person I've known, so I believe in you."

Just like he swung off joining the other, leaving you standing at some random ground of the war, looking at everyone fighting with their life just so they can protect the world they love.

In a blink of an eye, it's over, with your help, the purple alien was defeated and leaving you in terrified of your power because you killed the purple alien instead of doing it in a hero way, show him mercy and justice.

"I did it again," you whispered under your breath, you felt your heart tighten, as you can't focus on breathing but the horror of knowing what you've done. Everything around you becomes muffled, blurry. You can see SpiderMan trying to tell you something but you can't hear anything, all your focus is on the dead body of the purple alien.

There's only a moment of relief for you, which is you fainting out in front of everyone.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .

a/n: my first multi chapters Hobie fics is finally here, please go easy on me with the mistake I'll made in the chapters since I'm very used to write one shot comfort fic of Hobie's, hope you guys enjoy ❤️

Chapter Two ->

Chapter Three->

Chapter Four->

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