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dema-heart · 1 month
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Yessssss! It's giving every troupe I've ever loved and every man too! (Currently Hobie, ghost, and soap) but every morally Grey boy in-between.
I need to marry Hozier, like yesterday 😍😍😍
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dema-heart · 1 month
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I am 😭😭😭🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
I need to marry Hozier, like yesterday 😍😍😍
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dema-heart · 1 month
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IS IT OUT!?!?!?!? IM RUNNING I CHECKED AT 5 THIS MORNING AND GOT MY FEELINGS HURT
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I need to marry Hozier, like yesterday 😍😍😍
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dema-heart · 2 months
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No worries! I would have texted you about it soon, hehehehehehe🤭
Oh yes He's absolutely smitten! 🥰🥰🥰
and their vows, man! When i re-read them, I sat there amazed I wrote them. I was like who wrote this...me? No way. They came to me on a late night and i just typed it all out and went to sleep. 😅
This is a little short of how I feel they'd be after falling in love. With spring on the way here, I thought about how sad they must be to be leaving each other. Also, i wanted to test out writing them and their world in more than short scenes!
I'm trying to dip my toe in the water to convince myself to put it all together and make the story or at least start posting some of the bits i have of this au here😵‍💫😅
Persephone & Hades
Persephone gn!reader x Hades Hobie
Spring is here, and with it, persephone must leave the underworld.
I tried to keep it gender neutral. There is the use of the terms goddess and queen when referring to the reader. However, it's more in title than actual feminine meaning.
CW: Mentions of ichor and selfharm very briefly.
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"I'll be leaving you soon, my heart," you whisper the words into the shadows. Knowing he'll hear you. Knowing he's always with you as long as shadow and shade can reach you.
You're leaning against the wooden frame of your gazebo over looking your kingdom, your chosen home, the underworld. You smile, looking out at the vast dark lands lightened by the homes of your people.
Shadows nip at your fingers and trail up your arms before the feeling of your lover's warmth wraps around you.
"I know... I know, my world." his rapsy voice was laced with sadness, but his silky touch was a welcome comfort to the cold, although you'd grown accustomed to it.
"Persephone..." Hearing your name pulls your focus to him, Hades, king of the underworld or as you called him.
"Hobie, my love," you turn in his embrace, looking into his saddened eyes. Raising a hand to rest on his cheek, you smile as the fearsome king leans into your touch, eyes closing in content.
"When do you leave?" He places a kiss to your palm, sighing as he forces the words from his mouth.
"Not long from now." You give a sad smile as you watch your love's face drop. "Hermes will be here to escort me back to the mortal realm soon."
Sighing, his hand comes to rest on yours against his cheek, cupping it gently before pulling it away enough to place another kiss to your palm, then soft pecks to each of your fingertips. A shiver racks your body, and he peaks at you from the corner of his eye, mischief lighting up his face.
"We could always stage a kidnapping. I'll lock the doors and tell them I've decided to keep the goddess of spring all to myself. Any who dare attempt to get you will have to face the wrath of the underworld." He smirks, and the shadows of the land seem to flicker and roar with agreement.
You shake your head with a playful smile as he steps back, not letting go of your hand, bowing as if asking for a dance.
Laughing softly, you bowed back, allowing him to pull you to him with a twirl.
"We'll change your clothes and sneak you out the back before Pavitr arrives. Take you further into the realm where there's a small house waiting for just us." You laugh in glee as he dips you, the shadows around you whiping up as if to catch you.... or maybe swallow you up and hide you just as their king wishes. You lean your head back with a bright smile and unconsealed laughter, allowing the shadow's cool, wispy embrace to surround you. Letting them know they are seen and your joy is as much for them as it is their king, before Hobie pulls you up, holding you tight, as the shadows disperse, a hum of happiness in the once sullen air.
"Or we can sneak up to the human realm. where you can grow vast gardens and capture the heart of every living creature that comes by with your kindness and grace." There's a playful smirk on his face as he looks down at you.
"Which will it be your higness. At your command, I'll make it so." His tone is playful, but there is an underlying threat.
You know if you say you never wish to go anywhere without him, that your body aches at the thought of leaving him for these six months, he'd make it to where you never had to leave again even if it meant defying Zeus and all the other gods.
Your eyes lock as he waits for your answer. His gaze giving away his need for you, the same need and longing you're sure shows in yours. But instead of sealing your fates, you smile up at your king sweetly.
"It may have worked once, my king, but I do quite enjoy the mortals alive as much fun as they are when they get down here. And just as we need one another, my mother needs me." Your hands bunch the front of his tunic to pull him into a passionate kiss.
He obliges, leaning down slightly, letting you kiss away his sorrows for at least the moment.
Pulling back from the kiss, you step away from him, holding his hands now instead as you smile up at him.
"Hobie, my heart. Just a ichor flows through my veins. Your name is engraved in my heart. For my love for you is endless and always. For you allowed only once for tears to claw down my cheeks, for the golden blood in my veins to boil so hot with trepidation that even the sharpest thorns burned as they tangled around me, frenzied in my attempts to free myself from the anguish. You watched as Ichor bubbled from my skin and pooled in my hands like molten lava burning and poisoning everything in its wake, and you made me a queen, your queen. Took me against my will only to show me a freedom I'd never even dreamed of. You saw me for not what I was but who I could be, and for that, I will return to you in just six months. For that, I will always return to the place I now call home and the man who made it so."
You make this vow to him the same as you have done before. Tears pooling in your eyes that you refuse to let drop. You are not saddened to return above, missing the sun and those you called family, but to leave behind your heart to the cruel loneliness that comes with being king of the dead, a title not taken but forced.
You hold back a sigh, feeling him squeeze your hands. You open your eyes, not even realizing you had closed them.
One of his hands comes up swiping away your tears before they had the chance to drop.
"Persephone, my world. You have the ability to turn the darkest shades a blaze. The coldest places warm. And you are my own personal sun. You shined your light across our realm and showed me a world I'd never seen before. Just as one plucks a pretty flower, I saw you that day as tears streaked your face and anguish soured your soul but still your head was held high even as ichor drizzled your arms like honey, for the first time I'm sure. And I knew you had to be mine. If not, then at least my kingdom's for you deserved a status befitting the power you displayed in your darkest moment. I will forever be grateful you took the Pomegranate seeds from the fruit I bore, even if it was just due to hunger. Without you and the love you bring, I'd have been lost in the darkest corners of my kingdom, never to see what could have become of it. You will always have a home here...for everything, including myself, belongs to you here."
A passionate tension fills the air around you. It is as if only the two of you exist in this moment. Fingers entwined the same way your souls are. You hold each others gaze, neither willing to break the tranquil moment.
"Awwwwwwww, aren't you two just the cutest! Almost makes me sad to separate you buuuuut i am the messenger god, and my message just so happens to come in the form of the goddes of spring to one waiting and sorrowful mother!" Pavitr playful voice cuts the tension in the air with ease. He sits on the ledge you'd been looking out on, smiling brightly as you both turn to him with amused looks.
Hobie huffs, slipping from your grips to greet his friend with a playful shove before pulling him into a hug. "Pav, always good to see you."
Hobie playfully looks back at you before stage, whispering to Pavitr. "How much to get you to leave Persephone here and swear you never saw them. I mean also being known as the god of tricksters...." He's got his arm over Pavitr's shoulder, both facing you with matching grins as Pav pretends to think on it.
You shake your head, smiling at their antics. "Come now, Pav. Before the King gets us in trouble." You reach out your hand, and Pav is quick to fall into step with you looping your arms as you lead the way.
"Sorry sir, but an orders an order, and I could never reject a request from the goddes of spring, almighty ruler of the underworld. As you know, what Persephone wants..." Pavitr teases snickering along with you as you look at Hobie expectantly.
"...Persephone gets. yes, I know. I'm the one who started that." Hobie rolls his eyes with a fond smile, as you beam standing tall with mock arrogance before walking away with elegance, leaving behind the echos of your laugher and the smell of fresh floral earth.
Just as you leave his view and the shadows seem to darken, he feels the gentle caress of something winding up his arms, and the smell of flowers and fresh spring air surrounds him the same way the shadows had comforted you.
He looks down to see thin, leafy vines curled around his forearms similar to the arm cuffs he typically wears. Smiling as the scent of home surrounds him, he disappears into the shadows of the gazebo already anticipating your return.
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dema-heart · 2 months
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Persephone & Hades
Persephone gn!reader x Hades Hobie
Spring is here, and with it, persephone must leave the underworld.
I tried to keep it gender neutral. There is the use of the terms goddess and queen when referring to the reader. However, it's more in title than actual feminine meaning.
CW: Mentions of ichor and selfharm very briefly.
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"I'll be leaving you soon, my heart," you whisper the words into the shadows. Knowing he'll hear you. Knowing he's always with you as long as shadow and shade can reach you.
You're leaning against the wooden frame of your gazebo over looking your kingdom, your chosen home, the underworld. You smile, looking out at the vast dark lands lightened by the homes of your people.
Shadows nip at your fingers and trail up your arms before the feeling of your lover's warmth wraps around you.
"I know... I know, my world." his rapsy voice was laced with sadness, but his silky touch was a welcome comfort to the cold, although you'd grown accustomed to it.
"Persephone..." Hearing your name pulls your focus to him, Hades, king of the underworld or as you called him.
"Hobie, my love," you turn in his embrace, looking into his saddened eyes. Raising a hand to rest on his cheek, you smile as the fearsome king leans into your touch, eyes closing in content.
"When do you leave?" He places a kiss to your palm, sighing as he forces the words from his mouth.
"Not long from now." You give a sad smile as you watch your love's face drop. "Hermes will be here to escort me back to the mortal realm soon."
Sighing, his hand comes to rest on yours against his cheek, cupping it gently before pulling it away enough to place another kiss to your palm, then soft pecks to each of your fingertips. A shiver racks your body, and he peaks at you from the corner of his eye, mischief lighting up his face.
"We could always stage a kidnapping. I'll lock the doors and tell them I've decided to keep the goddess of spring all to myself. Any who dare attempt to get you will have to face the wrath of the underworld." He smirks, and the shadows of the land seem to flicker and roar with agreement.
You shake your head with a playful smile as he steps back, not letting go of your hand, bowing as if asking for a dance.
Laughing softly, you bowed back, allowing him to pull you to him with a twirl.
"We'll change your clothes and sneak you out the back before Pavitr arrives. Take you further into the realm where there's a small house waiting for just us." You laugh in glee as he dips you, the shadows around you whiping up as if to catch you.... or maybe swallow you up and hide you just as their king wishes. You lean your head back with a bright smile and unconsealed laughter, allowing the shadow's cool, wispy embrace to surround you. Letting them know they are seen and your joy is as much for them as it is their king, before Hobie pulls you up, holding you tight, as the shadows disperse, a hum of happiness in the once sullen air.
"Or we can sneak up to the human realm. where you can grow vast gardens and capture the heart of every living creature that comes by with your kindness and grace." There's a playful smirk on his face as he looks down at you.
"Which will it be your higness. At your command, I'll make it so." His tone is playful, but there is an underlying threat.
You know if you say you never wish to go anywhere without him, that your body aches at the thought of leaving him for these six months, he'd make it to where you never had to leave again even if it meant defying Zeus and all the other gods.
Your eyes lock as he waits for your answer. His gaze giving away his need for you, the same need and longing you're sure shows in yours. But instead of sealing your fates, you smile up at your king sweetly.
"It may have worked once, my king, but I do quite enjoy the mortals alive as much fun as they are when they get down here. And just as we need one another, my mother needs me." Your hands bunch the front of his tunic to pull him into a passionate kiss.
He obliges, leaning down slightly, letting you kiss away his sorrows for at least the moment.
Pulling back from the kiss, you step away from him, holding his hands now instead as you smile up at him.
"Hobie, my heart. Just a ichor flows through my veins. Your name is engraved in my heart. For my love for you is endless and always. For you allowed only once for tears to claw down my cheeks, for the golden blood in my veins to boil so hot with trepidation that even the sharpest thorns burned as they tangled around me, frenzied in my attempts to free myself from the anguish. You watched as Ichor bubbled from my skin and pooled in my hands like molten lava burning and poisoning everything in its wake, and you made me a queen, your queen. Took me against my will only to show me a freedom I'd never even dreamed of. You saw me for not what I was but who I could be, and for that, I will return to you in just six months. For that, I will always return to the place I now call home and the man who made it so."
You make this vow to him the same as you have done before. Tears pooling in your eyes that you refuse to let drop. You are not saddened to return above, missing the sun and those you called family, but to leave behind your heart to the cruel loneliness that comes with being king of the dead, a title not taken but forced.
You hold back a sigh, feeling him squeeze your hands. You open your eyes, not even realizing you had closed them.
One of his hands comes up swiping away your tears before they had the chance to drop.
"Persephone, my world. You have the ability to turn the darkest shades a blaze. The coldest places warm. And you are my own personal sun. You shined your light across our realm and showed me a world I'd never seen before. Just as one plucks a pretty flower, I saw you that day as tears streaked your face and anguish soured your soul but still your head was held high even as ichor drizzled your arms like honey, for the first time I'm sure. And I knew you had to be mine. If not, then at least my kingdom's for you deserved a status befitting the power you displayed in your darkest moment. I will forever be grateful you took the Pomegranate seeds from the fruit I bore, even if it was just due to hunger. Without you and the love you bring, I'd have been lost in the darkest corners of my kingdom, never to see what could have become of it. You will always have a home here...for everything, including myself, belongs to you here."
A passionate tension fills the air around you. It is as if only the two of you exist in this moment. Fingers entwined the same way your souls are. You hold each others gaze, neither willing to break the tranquil moment.
"Awwwwwwww, aren't you two just the cutest! Almost makes me sad to separate you buuuuut i am the messenger god, and my message just so happens to come in the form of the goddes of spring to one waiting and sorrowful mother!" Pavitr playful voice cuts the tension in the air with ease. He sits on the ledge you'd been looking out on, smiling brightly as you both turn to him with amused looks.
Hobie huffs, slipping from your grips to greet his friend with a playful shove before pulling him into a hug. "Pav, always good to see you."
Hobie playfully looks back at you before stage, whispering to Pavitr. "How much to get you to leave Persephone here and swear you never saw them. I mean also being known as the god of tricksters...." He's got his arm over Pavitr's shoulder, both facing you with matching grins as Pav pretends to think on it.
You shake your head, smiling at their antics. "Come now, Pav. Before the King gets us in trouble." You reach out your hand, and Pav is quick to fall into step with you looping your arms as you lead the way.
"Sorry sir, but an orders an order, and I could never reject a request from the goddes of spring, almighty ruler of the underworld. As you know, what Persephone wants..." Pavitr teases snickering along with you as you look at Hobie expectantly.
"...Persephone gets. yes, I know. I'm the one who started that." Hobie rolls his eyes with a fond smile, as you beam standing tall with mock arrogance before walking away with elegance, leaving behind the echos of your laugher and the smell of fresh floral earth.
Just as you leave his view and the shadows seem to darken, he feels the gentle caress of something winding up his arms, and the smell of flowers and fresh spring air surrounds him the same way the shadows had comforted you.
He looks down to see thin, leafy vines curled around his forearms similar to the arm cuffs he typically wears. Smiling as the scent of home surrounds him, he disappears into the shadows of the gazebo already anticipating your return.
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dema-heart · 3 months
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Have some no context sneak peek of chapter 7 😏 (warning: WIP)
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dema-heart · 3 months
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Lipstick stains 💋
Hobie x gn! Makeup wearing reader
Makeup but mostly lipstick
A little physical teasing, but nothing too saucy
Just a cute short
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"Babe!" You yelled, leaning closer to the mirror to check your makeup. You hummed in approval at the cute but bold look. All that was missing was lipstick.
"Yeah?" Hobie peaked into the bathroom, tilting his head a bit. His eyes scanned you for a second as you waved him in. He smirked, hands coming to wrap around your waist and head resting on your shoulder.
"What can I do for a pretty doll like you?" He placed a quick kiss to your neck, making you shiver, before looking up at you through the mirror.
"I need you to pick a lip color for me, love." You relax against him, grinning playfully when you feel him tense as your hips connect. You give him a wink through the mirror, wiggling your hips against his playfully before turning around in his arms with a cheeky grin, booping his nose.
"None of that now, Hobie. I have somewhere to be here soon, so pick." You gesture behind you to his two choices for your lip look. He doesn't spare them a glance, the hands that now rest on your waist, holding you in a bruising grip. His gaze is hooded as he steps forward, forcing you against the counter and him.
He was pressed flush against you, his hands on your waist, causing you to arch slightly into him as he leaned down. You take a sharp breath before closing your eyes.
When nothing happens, you peak up at him only to see his teasing grin. Frowning, you watch as he leans away, holding up one of the lipsticks.
Rolling your eyes with a huff, you glare up at him, taking it from his hands as he backs off with a snicker.
"Thought you said you had somewhere to be." He teases, flashing a cheeky grin through the mirror as he leaned back against the wall.
"Shut up, Hobart."
You look at the lipstick humming in approval at the color before applying it.
With a pop of your lips, you smile into the mirror before turning to hobie.
"What do you think?" You make a silly face at him puckering your lips.
He shakes his head, laughing as he steps into your space.
"You look stunning, hun. Absolutely breathtaking as always"
You beam,smiling up at him as he leans down to peck your lips, careful not to smudge your lipstick.
"Well, aren't you a charmer. Come here." You motion for him to lean down, and he shakes his head, chuckling, already knowing what you're up to.
Gently, you grasp his chin, turning his face and planting a kiss on his cheek. Pressing your lips a bit hardder, you make sure your lipstick mark stains his cheek.
You can feel his face rise with his grin as you pull back. "There now we're both ready for the day."
"Yeah?" you're met with his cheeky grin and raised eyebrow. You always "accidentally" put on too much lipstick and just so happen to believe Hobie looks good with your kiss marked on his cheek all day.
Grinning, you tap his non-marked cheek with your hand sliding away before you really were late.
"I'll see you later Hobs, love you!"
You turn back to look at Hobie as you open the door, his goofy grin making the kiss mark more prominent. You snicker to yourself, knowing he's gonna proudly show it off when he goes to see his mates here soon.
"Love you too. Try to have a good day,luv."
You smile at his response, blowing a kiss that he catches and pretends to place on his already marked cheek, making you laugh as you close the door.
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dema-heart · 3 months
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🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 they're up their getting it and r is like: are we under attack wants happening??? Is that music????? I must be hallucinating. What was in that stew???
The other side from the greatest showman reminds me of bdas!
Definitely giving R and Hobie (but also the crew. Pav, Yuri,gwen, and miles) trying to convince her to stay! (I have not read but the start of chap 5 so no spoilers hehehe just heard the sing and remembered their chats before hibie helped are learn to tie knots🤭🤭)
Lmaooo I'm imagining them practicing the entire song and dance for r and she's just trying to sleep down in her cabin while everyone's stomping around upstairs 🤣🤣🤣
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dema-heart · 3 months
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Between the Devil and the Sea
Pairing: Pirate Captain! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader
Word Count: On going
Synopsis: All your life you've been running away, what happens when you accidentally stow away on an infamous ship that has a captain who's notorious for being the world's most wanted pirate. Will he welcome you as part of his ragtag crew or will you end up walking the plank? Or worse, will your past catch up to you?
Tags: Pirate Captain! Hobie, Fem! Reader, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing occasionally), R has nicknames, Arachkids x Reader (platonic), TW blood, TW violence, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst. Set during the golden age of piracy. Specific Warnings are listed on every chapter.
Masterlist
Navigation
*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms and copy pasted on any AI software*
*pictures are from pinterest*
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Chapter One- Seafoam on the Shore
Chapter Two- Claimed by the Sea
Chapter Three- Amidst the Waves
Chapter Four- Go by the Board
Chapter Five- Sailing Close to the Wind
Chapter Six- Batten Down the Hatches
Chapter Seven- In Deep Water
Chapter Eight- Stem the Tide
Chapter Nine-
Chapter Ten-
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Ocean banner and support banner by @cafekitsune
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dema-heart · 3 months
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After the Fall
Tags: No use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader, set after 'The Fall'. The aftermath of either endings you chose. TW blood, TW gore, TW Death, TW animal injury, CW implied violence, CW body horror. Fae au lore
A/N: Surprise! Have a lil something that's been eating at me since TF ended. The series is a must read for you to understand this one 🫶
Navigation
The Fall Masterlist
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The large doors dance in the freezing blizzard. It's sound clunking and banging against the ancient walls of Mudwood Manor. Miguel wades through the ankle deep snow, the ice freezing him to the bone, the snowflakes pricking his skin instead of the gentle kiss it usually brings.
The fog obscures the Manor, but before he even steps inside, he knows there's something wrong, from how the wind howls right in his ears, whispering death and blood. After living in the cursed place since birth he just knows. It's just like that morning again. He dreads going inside his own home.
Something horrific lies inside.
The smell hits him first, the rot and decay of flesh and bones. His boots thump loudly in the dead quiet, he doesn't want to disturb whatever awaits him inside or it might just wake up.
He walks on something soft, the squelch sending shivers down his spine.
His eyes stay ahead of him like an army man, his hand shakes as Miguel finally sees the once pristine Manor.
There's dried blood on the walls, painting the oak in a morbid artwork. The sharp pieces of his mother's old vase lie across the floor, dotting it like sharp edged stars.
There's a hand, a kneecap, and a head turned home for the maggots right next to his father's armchair.
His heart pounds against its confines. Palms sweating on the leather straps of his bag. Even the strong stomached would empty out their dinner after seeing all the gore laid out in front of him.
Miguel's eyes search for you, the picture from your resume serves as his reminder of what you look like. Carefully moving along the bloodied mess, he looks under a mauled body for you.
Nothing.
On the couch there's only a severed arm on the expensive leather. He hopes that you still live, that you're still hiding somewhere, thinking that these people were still after you.
He sees a gun on the ground crawling with black spiders.
Miguel knows you're not here anymore.
But he still hopes, prays that you're hidden beneath the floorboards or inside the wardrobe. So he yells your name, his voice bouncing off the gut filled walls.
Nothing.
He screams again, his tonsils hurt but he continues to yell again. There's scattered teeth near his boots. Again. There's a fountain pen covered in dried blood, the finger prints still dirtying the silver. Again. There's bloodied fur on the ground next to the gun. Nellie
He changes course. “Nellie!”
Nothing.
“Fuck! Come on old girl, where are you?!” Miguel hears metal clinking upstairs.
He jogs up to the stairs, avoiding coagulated blood on the narra. There's dog footprints on it, hope blossoms in his chest.
Your bedroom doors are open, burst at the hinges. The smell is much worse in the smaller space. A splattering of blood decorates your floors. A body lies cold, the face completely gone, unrecognizable.
Miguel hears a whine from your bed, he turns around to see Nellie curled around herself, eyes big and watery, her snout covered in gore.
“Nellie” He says softly, walking over the corpse to get to her.
She whines sadly, huffing yet her tail is straight and alert.
“You're alright now, girl. Nothing’s gonna happen” Miguel sits on your bed carefully so he doesn't disturb the sheets you've left.
Nellie whines again, nuzzling the sheets that still smell like you.
“It was her again, huh?” He pets Nellie behind her ear, Miguel feels the matted fur. “You alright?”
It's not his first time encountering death in the manor, he'll bury the dead and scrub the floors and walls clean but he'll still know that blood was spilled in his family home, crimson once flowed between the gaps in the floorboards like a river. He'd know that you once lived here, and that he was too stupid to ignore the signs. Miguel's mind races with what ifs but he could only cling to Nellie who's been here before him, and who will be here after he leaves this life.
Nellie closes her eyes painfully. She's still hurting. She feels you in the trees, she still smells your scent that's slowly fading away but she can't feel you anymore. She can't feel your soul anymore.
She failed. Again.
She should've tried harder this time, warned you, hell, even bit you just so you could stay away. But her aging mind prevents her from doing that. Centuries of sorrow and blood have fogged up her mind, her vision wasn't what it once was. Her claws are not as sharp as before. But she had hope this time, hoped that you'd stay away from the woods, hope that you won't fall for him once again.
But hope is a fickle thing, she shouldn't have relied on it.
As if Miguel knows what she's thinking, he whispers. “Not your fault, it was destined. But I'm still sorry. I don't know what happened here or what has become of her but…you can rest now, I'm here and when you wake up we'll wait, then you can try again”
She nuzzles against Miguel's hand. Remembering the day she first met you, all kind eyes and soft touches, you had heart and she's willing to protect that no matter how long it takes. Whether you've finally decided to break the cycle or you chose to continue once again like the hundred versions of you have done before you. She'd shield you, help you in finally ending the rotten fate that has befallen you.
Until you fall again, she'll be there.
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A/N: to all the lovelies who read TF, thank you! This one is for you 🫶
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dema-heart · 3 months
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*melts into im from the south. This is a dream puddle* please its possible, right?
*sobs in lives nowhere near any possible cowboy hangouts, but I can hope*
THAT COWBOY CHARM 🤠 😍 😳
Cowboy hobie request you say? How about we say yes. We both need a cowboy hobie with a new reader to the town/community and him helping them out 💳💥
Cowboy hobie also definitely has a fully black gorgeous horse
*squeals* cowboy! Hobie!!! Thank you for requesting 🫶
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader
Tags: use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), cowboy AU, Western AU, crush at first sight for the reader. FLUFF.
ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ
The sun bares down on you, The air is thicker, humid, almost choking you whenever you step outside. Heavy luggages waits for you out in your new lawn, a good twelve feet away from your front door. Maybe you should've paid extra for the movers to help you.
Wiping the sweat off your brow, you heave a bag in your arms, the contents clinking together as you lift it up. You could do with some help right about now.
“Need help?”
As if some sort of divine intervention, a deep voice asks behind you, an unmistakable whinny of a horse echoes out in the barren space. At first you thought it would be an outlaw after your stuff but the genuine concern in the stranger's voice fills you with ease.
Turning around, you're greeted by a large black stallion, its silver saddle glinting in the sun, the horse's coat shining like black pearls. Flicking your eyes upwards, you see a leather clad cowboy, his eyes hidden behind the brim of his cherry red ten-gallon hat. The smile on his face makes you want to take his offer.
“You got sand in your ears?” he continued, grimacing when his choice of wording was a bit too harsh for a stranger.
“D’you need my help?” he asks softer and kinder this time. Maybe he should go out more often, his social skills are shot like a bottle in a shooting range.
“I–” you look back at the numerous bags at your feet. “I don't know– I mean thank you but I can handle it.” Based on his accent, he's not from this side of the world, someone who wanted a fresh start, just like you.
You've got a good reason to be apprehensive, you're situated in the middle of nowhere, if this man is actually an outlaw then there's no one who would come to your rescue, with only the buffaloes as your witness. Despite his handsome smile, you see his six shooter strapped on his belt, the sight alone makes you nervous to accept his help.
“That's bare of bags.” With one swift movement, he gets off his horse, spurs clinking, boots thudding on the dusty ground. He takes off his hat to properly greet you.
Saying he's handsome is an understatement. His face is chiseled, a jaw that can cut a rock, irises as green as the grass and the finest jade. Silver piercings and studs add an edge to his handsome face. You can't believe you're ogling a stranger.
“Welcome to the neighborhood,” he gestures around the empty space with your little farm situated in the middle of nothing but grass and dirt. “Name's Hobie, Hobie Brown”
Hobie, you test his name in your mind, repeating it so you could memorize it. “Mr. Brown, I–”
“Just Hobie's fine.” He chuckles, mindlessly twirling the hat in his gloved hands.
“Hobie, what exactly did you say about the neighborhood? Or the lack of it” you look around the field.
“I live down over there.” he points to the left, you follow it with your eyes, squinting, you see a black dot in the distance. You guess that's his house.
“That's incredibly far” you turn back towards him, fixing your hold on the bag.
“Ain't that far with my old boy,” he twists around, patting the horse on his snout. “Right, Velvet?” Velvet shoves Hobie lightly.
You smile as the horse snorts, his exhale hits Hobie right on his face. He pushes Velvet’s face away, the stallion nods like he's laughing after making fun of his rider in front of you.
“I swear this horse,” Hobie shakes his head with a smile. “So now you know me ma’am, may I help you with your bags?”
The bag almost falls from your arms when he calls you ma’am. “Oh you don't need to call me that,” the warmth in your cheeks isn't from the summer sun. “Just Y/N is fine.”
“Y/N” your name rolls off his tongue smoothly. Hobie grins, “I promise I don't bite. Velvet on the other hand.” Said horse whinnies like he's offended by what Hobie said.
“Alright, good sir.” You internally cringe, Hobie laughs, the sound sending butterflies in your stomach. “Y-you can help me with my bags as long as you stay after for some lemonade?” You take your chance with the handsome cowboy.
“Lemonde? I haven't had that in a while.” you think you've made a fool of yourself. “Sure, Let me have this then.” he takes your heavy bag from you, carrying it effortlessly. With his boot, he loops it around the strap of a bag on the floor, kicking it up in the air before catching it in his arm all suave.
Hobie has no idea the effect he has on you.
You're sweating like a sinner in church, blouse sticking to your skin like glue on paper. Maybe you shouldn't have asked him to stay after because you have no idea how to survive the day without melting whenever he smiles at you.
You get a whiff of leather and sandalwood as he passes by. He looks over his shoulder, “You comin'?”
“Y-yes” oh you know you're already smitten.
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dema-heart · 3 months
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Honestly! Like sir who's gonna pay my bills? I have to go. And having webbing stuck to you back at work all the time your coworkers are worried you're always in danger when spiderman is the problem 🤣 he'd suddenly be all cuddly and you'd know it's time to get up.
"Hobart, where is my alarm clock...."
"Shhhhhhhh just lay down dont worry about that thing I took care of it"
I just know hobie's the type to keep you in bed to the last minute. If you have work that day, you're fighting him to let you go. Bargaining your way out. Especially if you don't like your job, he's trying to kiss you into forgetting to get ready. Constantly dragging you back to him or the bed
Lmao this dude is the number one reason why you're always so late 🤣 his long legs and arms would envelop you, telling you to stay and just cuddle with him and "you should quit" he says to you almost everyday. Also webbing you up back to bed every time you escape his grasp, you just gotta accept it, his arms are your home now.
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dema-heart · 3 months
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Don't mind me just making sure you're taking care of yourself and totally not also peeping at the chapter. *sneaks water and snacks next to you*
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dema-heart · 3 months
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*wipes away tears*
I'm good i promise all good...I'll just be over here...
*sobssssss in hurt/comfort*
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Bad Idea, Right?
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 1.6k
Synopsis: A visit from your ex makes you question the break up.
Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (she is mentioned wearing heels though), ex! Hobie, CW injury, TW blood, Hurt/comfort.
Navigation
Hobie Masterlist
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Your ankle hurts like you've run a marathon. The new heels you've bought doesn't help one bit, you should've chosen a more comfortable pair if you only knew your date was about to ditch you in the middle of dinner. Now your wallet is lighter and you didn't even get a proper date in. You could've taken a taxi home but just thinking about the surge prices has you risking the dimly lit streets.
You sigh as you finally see your front door, hobbling to it, you unlock it quickly so you could change into your PJ's, watch that new episode and have your feet up with a hot compress right over your aching feet.
The smell of iron and the familiar leather smacks you right over your face. You haven't smelt that in months, turning the corner, you already know who's waiting for you. But you wouldn't have foreseen the state that he's in.
“Holy shit, Hobie!” You run to him, blisters be damned.
Kneeling next to him, you assess the damages like you always used to. He's currently sitting up, his back slouched. His face has seen better days but there's still that charm you've always loved behind his eyes. The suit looks worse, marred by bloodied slashes and tattered cloth.
“‘m okay,” he holds your elbow, the feeling so familiar it brings you back to five months ago, a time before you broke up, before *he broke it off, inevitably shattering your heart into tiny pieces.
“Just a scratch, love.” Hobie looks softly at you, his eye bruised and battered as he clutches at his bleeding side.
“You're bleeding all over my new couch.” Sure enough, your once white couch has specks of blood on it. “What are you doing here? You should go to a hospital in the state you're in!”
He heaves a shaky breath. “I didn't know where else to go.” Squeezing your elbow, his head hit the cushion in a quiet thump.
You hold his cheek gently. This is a bad idea, right? But you know if you don't treat him his wounds would fester, you know him enough to know that he really won't go to a hospital no matter how much you beg.
“Okay, okay, just–” you fight the tears in your eyes. There might not be a relationship between you two anymore but you can't bear seeing him in pain. “I'll get the kit.” Standing up, before you could rummage for the first aid, Hobie catches your hand in his. Thumb rubbing softly over your palm, you swear you felt electricity pass through you.
“Y/N, I–”
“I'll get the first aid.” You cut him off without looking at his face, if you did you might've collapsed to your knees in front of him, kissing him like you used to. Sliding your hands off him, you walk off without looking behind.
Going over to the piles and piles of boxes in the corner, you open one that's labeled ‘medical stuff’ immediately, your eyes zero in on the things you needed.
“You haven't unpacked?” Hobie croaks out, “it's been six months–”
“Five, just five actually.” Turning around, your arms are full of bandages, painkillers and antiseptic and anything else you might need, your tone is full of passive aggressiveness.
“Felt like six to me” he coughs out.
You walk briskly to him, you've got to get your priorities straight rather than biting back at him.
“Stop talking, you're making it worse.”
“My injuries or our relationship?”
You pause, kneeling down to set the materials on the floor as gentle as you can with your arms full. “Both, now shut it, Hobart.”
“‘m sorry”
“Hobie, please.” You look at him, your eyes glistening in the light. “Please just– let me work, okay?”
“Okay” he nods, observing you prepare the materials just like you always do it. But this time you're not completely calm and not making jokes to keep him smiling and awake. You're silent, fingers shaking while you sanitize your hands.
The sound of the clock in the living room becomes annoying as the silence goes on. Hobie's suit now lay discarded on the floor leaving him in only his boxers. He grimaces with every stitch you do in his abdomen. Your touch keeps him awake though, sending little sparks as you gently put the needle in his skin, your gloves bloodied, face fully concentrating, only showing emotion with a frown when he sucks his teeth in when the pain flares up again.
Hobie doesn't want you to hurry up though, because once you're done, he'd have to leave and he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to leave you again since he made the biggest mistake of his life five months ago because of a stupid argument. He admits it to himself every morning he wakes up without you beside him, your side of the bed cold, your things not where they usually are. He can't help but look beside him, wishing the space isn't empty anymore.
He was wrong and he wants you back. He'd be lying if said he was doing well these past five months, he'd be lying too if he said he wasn't thinking of you when he was being pummeled to the ground.
You hate seeing him like this, hell it was the main reason why the fateful fight happened. With a shuddered breath from Hobie, you look up at him to check, maybe you shouldn't have when he looks at you like the last five months didn't happen. Like the last three years together still continued on to this day.
“You look nice.” He flicks his eyes down to your new shoes. “Fancy. Did you go on a date?” He mentally readies himself for your reply.
“I did.” Thinking of getting him back, you could say ‘yeah, I did and it went so well! We're getting married tomorrow by the way!’ or ‘yeah and he's right outside right now waiting for me’ but you don't, you don't have the heart to hurt him with your words, even if he did do that to you.
“Didn't go well” you continue without looking at him, concentrating on closing his wound. “He left me during dinner.”
“That fuckin’ wanker.” He clicks his tongue, his words full of venom for the man. “You deserve better, love”
You look at him directly in the eyes. “Yeah I do.”
His face drops, anger dissipating. “Y/N–”
“What are you really doing here, Hobie? You have friends that could help you better than I could and you still went to me.” Your bottom lip wobbles but you bravely continue on. “You said it yourself, you don't want to do anything with me” your voice wavers.
“I didn't mean it.”
“Then why did you say it? I only told you to be more careful because I hate coming home to you beaten and bloody. I would never tell you to stop being spiderman, I know the city needs you more than I do, but my god, I needed you too.”
“‘m so fucking sorry.” He reaches out to hold your cheek but retracts it back apprehensively.
“I came home tired and angry and I let it all out on you.”
You want to hold him, you do but it's a bad idea, you're trying to move on, you're currently failing at it based on the number of dates you've rejected and all the boxes of things you haven't even tried to unpack because of that damned bit of hope. You'd do anything to see the dimples of his cheeks again. You know it's been hard being spiderman for him, juggling his personal life with being a vigilante; and you hate how you added in another problem for him, but you know the space was needed even though it wasn't wanted. One thing is for certain though, you still love him.
Closing his wound, you pack it in with bandages, the awkward silence is deafening. The package of medical tape crinkles as he watches you with a frown and broken heart.
“You called me selfish” you break the silence, your hands staying over his wound gently, the bandages acting as a wall between you and his skin.
“I did, ‘m sorry” he thinks twice before holding your hand over his bandages. His fingers intertwining with yours slowly.
Unsurprisingly, you let him. Your eyes flicking over to his shining one, his frown makes you crave his smile.
“But…” You continue with hitched breath, “you said you love me in the same breath.”
“I meant it, I still love you.” Hobie takes your hand, lifting it to kiss your knuckles. You feel his dry broken lips, you want to hurt the one who did this to him.
Coming closer to him, you lay your forehead atop his carefully so as to not exacerbate his injuries. “I still have no idea how you made that whole sentence hurtful but full of love.”
“I'm a lyrical genius, love” he chuckles lowly, raising up to chase your lips.
“Not much of a genius that day though.” You lean away but his hand on the back of your head prevents you from getting away. For the first time in months, you smile.
“I'm a blubbering idiot then.” Hobie slides his hand down to your shoulders, just holding you like it's supposed to be. He has every curve of you memorized, roaming his hand, kneading to ease your muscles.
“That you are, Hobie Brown, my lovable idiot.” You close the distance, kissing him like you've never kissed him before.
Maybe this isn't such a bad idea after all.
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dema-heart · 3 months
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here i thought you were gonna give me a false sense of peace and then hot me in the next chapter, but noooo had my heart filled and stomped on all in one go😭😭😭😂😂😂. I was ready and not all at once.
THE COMPARISONS BESTIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Red sails fluttering and macabre waltz comparison!!!!! I made sure to go look it up and listen during the battle!!!!
Rs body crying in blood!!!! I've never once thought of comparing tears to blood in that way! My mind was blown! I really wanna be able to use something like it someday beacuse the imagery was *chefs kiss*
And God damn it Hobie!!!! I get why he acted that way but how the hell do I lead the navy to a ship in the middle of the ocean!?!!? I was just starting to feel safe and boom litteraly!!!!!
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Amidst the Waves
Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader
Word count: 4.5k
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is mentioned taller though), the reader has nicknames. CW food mentions, TW blood, CW injury, TW violence, TW gore, CW death, CW guns.
Navigation
Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist
Chapter 3 >>> Chapter 4
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You've heard all the stories that all pirates are criminals who would cut your throat without remorse for a single coin in your pocket. You've heard it enough from traveling bards and newsboys screaming out the pirates’ crimes every morning that it's ingrained in your psyche. The news about the navy hunting them all one by one hasn't passed you either. You remember walking through towns with pirates hanging from the noose, a warning to all pirates.
It's all everyone talks about, especially in small towns. it's impossible not to hear of the bloodsail pirates and their latest crimes. But now you're standing in their ship, wearing their clothes and eating their soup. A surprisingly good soup too.
If only your past self could see you now, she'd probably throw you overboard herself.
Ned, you've come to know, throws you a mop and a bucket full of hazy water that sloshes on the sides, almost spilling over your new-ish clothes. You're too tired for this.
“Careful now, that has lye” His friend, James, you’ve learned snickers on the side.
“Go swab the poop deck, land lover” Ned points above you, rows of stairs greeting you. “As for you,” he addresses the blond, “the deck”
“What?! Why does she only get the poop deck and I get the entire bloody main deck?!” He jumps off the railing, fuming.
“Complain more and you clean the bathrooms”
“No! Not the bathroom again.” James picks up a spare mop. “Look, I'm cleaning, yeah?” he mops like a madman all over the main deck.
You chuckle, Ned hears and he gives you a staring down, you clamp down immediately.
“Poop deck! I'm on it!”
Clambering up the stairs is easier said than done. With your new found sea legs and the waves bashing on the sides of the ship, you're fighting for your life.
“Need help?” Hobie suddenly appears on the top of the stairs, annoyingly munching on an apple.
You heave the bucket, staring at him while doing your best at taking the cleaning supplies up the creaking stairs. “I'm good” step.
“You sure? I'm offering you an olive branch here, scuttlebutt” he leans on the railing, not moving an inch to actually help you.
Step.
“You can keep your branch,” you wobble slightly when a large wave crashes on the side of the ship. But thankfully, you keep your balance. Step. Finally reaching the top, you exhale out proudly.
“I'm not fond of olives anyway” you side eye him before continuing to walk on the poop deck.
Another wave hits, the water sloshes out, barely missing your hands. “Shit”
“Careful, that has lye in it” he says with a chuckle.
You missed lunch because you scrubbed the entire poop deck clean. Your stomach grumbles as the sun sets and you remember your last day in that small fishing town. The orange glow never fails to make you smile but now it squeezes your heart. It's still a beautiful sight, the large body of water glitters from the light, almost like it's calling out to you.
Great, you're already going insane after a few hours. Pinching your arm, you shake your head. You can't wait to get on land.
Walking down, you walk on the deck with an empty bucket. The sea is much calmer now, the movement is pleasant, if you're in bed right now, you would've fallen asleep from the motion. The breeze picks up as you set the supplies down. You lean on the railing to rest your lower back while you admire the sunset.
James huffs a few feet away from you, still mopping the deck while Ned and a raven haired woman chats near him. They make comments on the side that makes James glare at them. You let them be, watching the sunset with your hand on your chin.
Your back and knees ache from the labour and your stomach roars again for something to eat. Maybe they still have the soup earlier.
There's a sudden presence next to you. Leather and sea salt enters your senses.
He rests a couple of feet away from you, just in case you try to push him off.
“What a view, huh?” Hobie, he looks at you through tired eyes.
“Verdict’s still out” You don't try to argue lest you ruin the rare peace and quiet on a busy ship.
“‘course it is.” He chuckles. There's a comfortable silence between you.
After a beat he speaks up without looking at you. “Go help in the galley.” Before you could retort something witty, he walks away from you. You swear you saw something in his eyes, you have no idea what.
Heading down to the ship's kitchen, you see Gwen just about leaving.
“Oh good you're here. Go help out with dinner” she instructs without stopping for you.
Entering the swinging doors, you can't protest or else, well you try not to think about it too much. The galley is cozy, not what you expected of a pirate ship's kitchen to say the least. It's clean, all stone and steel melded together to create the quaint space.
You jump when Finn's hulking form enters your vision, his butcher's knife chopping down on a slab of meat, the sound reminds you of a guillotine.
He notices you freezed in the doorway, Finn huffs motioning for you to take an apron from the hanger with his incredibly large knife. You think you prefer the cutlass instead of the butcher's knife in his hands.
Tying it around your waist, you keep your distance away from the man.
“What do you need me to do?” You ask carefully so as to not anger the bull.
Finn moves to the side to reveal the boiling pot, the aroma makes your stomach gurgle. He points to a bundle of carrots on the counter before giving you a smaller knife. He nods once, going back to his chopping.
“Alright…” you find his lack of words peculiar, especially hearing the rest of the crew babble endlessly during the short time you've been on the ship.
You spare him side glances with every thwack of his knife to the chopping board. Working in comfortable silence, the sound from the bubbling pot calms your nerves, reminding you of the familiar sound in the white salmons’ kitchen.
The boat sways in the waves, making the hanging pots and pans swing to the motion. Finn taps his knife on the board twice, getting your attention. He gestures with his head towards the sliced carrots before glancing at the pot.
You understood completely, doing what he asked, he nodded once. A thank you maybe? Or he's just being nicer to you because of the whole ‘making you walk the plank thing’
Finn cleans himself up over the sink as you take a ladle to mix the stew, careful of the fire that licks the bottom of the metal pot.
A hand pops up at your line of sight, a bandage and a jar of wound cleaner placed in his large palm. He pushes the supplies to you, encouraging you to take it.
“Uh, what's this for?” you manage to take the things without it accidentally falling inside the crew's dinner. With how the ship rocks, you're proud of yourself for just being able to stand up.
Finn points to his chest, flicking his eyes to the supplies in your hands.
Looking down, you see a spot of red on the white cotton of your borrowed shirt. “Oh, thank you”
He huffs again, going back to cooking, letting you be.
Maybe they're not so bad?
Dinner is finally done. You can hardly keep your eyes open as you heave the huge pot over to the longest table you've ever seen. It's a makeshift table, a hodgepodge of crates and planks of wood put together to create the dinner table. Everyone starts to gather around the deck, the sun fully set, darkness rules the seas now as the candle light and oil lamps sway with the movement of the breeze.
Dining under the stars, how romantic.
They're a rambunctious bunch, pushing and pulling at each other to get the good plates first. You're already prepared for this of course, you've hidden a bowl in your apron so you could quickly scoop out dinner and vanish into a barren corner of the boat.
The same dark haired woman has other plans though, just before you could make your escape, she grabs you by the shoulders; orange and a flowery scent wafts in your nostrils.
“Where do you think you're going? Mm?” She whispers into your ear, her voice smooth, raising goosebumps on your arms. Freezing in her touch.
“Stop harassing the poor girl, Yuri” Gwen says while she takes her seat near the head of the table.
“Just having some fun, Gwen” she releases her hold on you, walking away with a wink thrown your way.
“Don't mind Yuri, she likes doing that to new people, her way of hazing I guess. I'm Miles by the way” He shakes your hand, smiling politely at you.
“She's not new to the crew, Miles. She's only here temporarily, remember?” Gwen pipes up, scooping her meal.
“Right, gotcha” he sits down next to Gwen with a huff. “Still, welcome a board the People's Revenge”
“I've gotten acquainted with your ship, just the poop deck and galley actually”
“Let me give you a tour then!” Pavitr suddenly appears next to you.
What is up with this crew instantaneously appearing out of nowhere?
“Hi, remember me?”
“Of course I do, thanks for the coat again”
“No problem, come on, let me introduce you to everyone!” Pavitr takes you by the sleeve, dragging you along the deck to introduce to literally everyone. “Oh you're gonna love them! Well, once you get to know them”
“Oh okay–just”
“This is ‘two fingers’” He points at a man halfway through putting a spoon in his mouth.
“I have a name, Pav! And I have all my bloody fingers!”
“Why are you called–” before you could ask, Pav led you away, smiling excitedly.
“This one here is ‘foul’!”
The crew around him laughs, “You forget to shower once and you get fuckin' called stinky!” Foul grabs a spoon to throw it at a laughing eye patch clad man. It conks him right on his forehead.
Pavitr moves on, actually introducing you to more people whose names get more ridiculous as you go around the table.
“And finally, this one is ‘ugly mug’” Pav shakes ugly mug’s shoulders for emphasis.
“Hey” the man with the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen and plump lips greets you.
“Ugly mug? He's not ugly at all!” You wildly gesture to his sharp face.
“You're too kind but I've learned to live with the ugliness” you don't know if he's joking or not with how serious he looks.
“Oh I almost forgot, this is Danny” Pav skims the most normal looking crew member. He whispers to you. “He's a bit weird”
Danny waves wildly, beaming at you. “Hi, I'm Danny!”
“Alright… thank you, Pavitr for the introduction” your stomach starts to cry again. “But I've gotta eat.”
“Oh, sit with us then!” He guides you to an empty chair next to Gwen. “Here, sit down. I'll get a bowl for you”
Awkwardly sitting down, you side eye Gwen. Miles looks like he's about to jump away from the tension.
“If you're worried about everyone planning to hurt you, don't. We have a code here and until you leave, you're kind of…one of us” she pierces the awkward silence between you.
You exhale a breath you haven't noticed you were holding. But you're still on guard, they are pirates after all.
“Here you go, I got you extra bread too” Pavitr saves you from the tension, bringing you a heaping bowl of hot stew with two loaves of bread. He sits down next to you, happily eating.
“God, I'm so hungry.” You grab the spoon with fervor, scooping up a chunk to quickly eat before it goes cold. It warms your insides, calming your hungry stomach. “Thank you– holy shit” it's the best tasting stew you've ever tasted.
“Good, right?” Gwen watches on with an amused smile. “Finn makes them from scratch, even the bread”
“I didn't even know that was possible on a ship.” You say with your mouth full. “Finn doesn't talk much huh?”
“Oh he talks. He just doesn't want to” Gwen shrugs, “that's his thing, don't ask him why”
“Wasn't planning to” you chuckle through your glass.
“Gwen,” Miles looks at you like he knows something you don't. “Am I crazy or she kind of reminds me of M–”
“Don’t” Gwen and Pavitr simultaneously say.
“You remind me who?” You flick your eyes between the trio.
“Don't–”
“MJ, you remind me of MJ.” Miles looks at you with sad eyes.
The entire table silences the moment Miles utters the name. Everyone looks at you and at eachother like how they did when you arrived just this morning. But this time there's sadness in their eyes instead of amusement.
“Who's MJ?” you ask nervously.
“Our former first mate” Foul flicks his eyes around, looking for something or someone. “Emphasis on the former”
“Oh” you could read the room but your bout of curiosity gets you first. “Who's the new first mate?”
“I am” Gwen says it without any pride laced in her words.
“Oh I figured that out. Where is she now?”
“Not here” A familiar voice replies behind you.
Looking over your shoulder, Hobie’s jaw is set, his hand on one of his pistols, the gold on the handle is a stark contrast to the rest of his silver ensemble.
You expect for the crew to stay silent once their captain arrives, but they hollar and cheer. Morphing Hobie's grimace into a smile. But it's still there, the anger and sadness, you can tell because you see it in the mirror everyday.
“Right, what's for dinner?” He sits down on the head of the table while his crew passes him a bowl and the pot. “Looks good, Finn. You've done it again, big man”
You hear Finn's signature grunt from somewhere along the table.
“Aye? She didn't mess anything up did she?” With just one grunt Hobie translated what Finn grunted.
How in the world?
Finn shrugs, making an ‘eh’ gesture with his hand. Hobie laughs, while you look at Finn with a ‘really?’ Look on your face. He rolls his eyes at you.
“I'm an…alright cook” you defend yourself but still remaining true.
“Sure you are, scuttlebutt. What other useful skills do you have, mhm?”
With a chance to prove yourself so they stop giving you tasks that break your back, you sell yourself.
“I recently learned how to sew and mend clothes.”
“You plannin’ on replacing Neddy as our sailmaker?”
Ned lifts his head up from his book. “What's that?”
“Nothin' Neddy. D’you know how to shoot?”
“Please say yes so you can join me with the cannons.” Yuri smirks further down the table.
“Uh, no I don't know how to handle gunpowder.” you refrain from looking at Yuri.
“Carpentry then? Fishing?”
“No and...no” you twiddle with your thumbs under the table.
Hobie grins mockingly at you. “Maybe we should just drop you overboard right now”
You grit your teeth. “I'm good with herbs and medicine. I'm guessing you don't have a ship doctor”
“Now you've piqued my interest.” Hobie casually leans on the table by his elbows, resting his chin on his hands. “Where did a fish girl like you learn about medicine, huh?”
“You only need to know that I can fix some of your crew's ailments. I'm not a doctor but I'm experienced”
“Closing wounds?” You nod. “Scurvy?”
“Theoretically, yes” you challenge him head on.
“The plague?”
“Survived it”
“The pox?”
“Most I can do is stop the spread and alleviate the pain, the survival depends on the person”
“Can we not talk about diseases while eating?!” Pav wildly gestures at his food.
“Carry on” Hobie side eyes you. Taking a huge bite of his loaf.
You throw him a fake smile.
“How are you liking the Revenge so far, Y/N?” Miles tries to make you forget the last interaction with him.
You wouldn't forget about it of course, it'll stay in the back of your mind, festering until your curiosity gets you and you ask who MJ actually is and why everyone quietened after she was mentioned. Maybe you'll do it one day, where your feet are firmly on the ground and you're not near any body of water.
Thinking of an answer that doesn't get you cut by a sword, you fake a smile. “Not what I expected”
“Did you expect blood and gold littered all over the place?” Hobie adds to the conversation. “Because that's in my quarters not here”
Gwen rolls her eyes at his joke while the others are either ignoring it or laughing along with Hobie.
One of the crew yells out on top of all the noise. “Aye, if you're lucky enough, girly, you'll see the inside of the cap’s quarters!”
Hobie shakes his head, throwing an entire plate towards the man with accuracy. Finn moves his head to the side casually before it hits him. The plate shatters then you hear the man scream obscenities.
“Don't listen to that animal” Hobie says without looking at you.
You want to get back at him for the lye comment so you decide to tease him, just to see his reaction, maybe he'll get flustered.
“And here I thought you were inviting me—”
BOOM!
The explosion shoves the entire ship harshly to the left, everyone slides with the movement including the table and chairs. Stew flies everywhere, loaves of bread soar overhead. Shards of sharp wood almost splinter your skin.
You land on the railing of the ship harshly. Opening your eyes through the pain, you see a crate heading your way.
“Fuck–!”
Strong arms grab you by the waist, saving you from getting crushed at the last minute. You hold on to their jacket with wild eyes.
“You alright?” Hobie's words are hushed and soft in your ear. You nod, trying to steady your racing heart. Looking up at him, his eyes roam your face for any injuries.
“I'm okay, what happened—?” noticing that you're still in his arms, you move away, correcting your balance when the ship hurls back to the right position. You try to reach for your necklace, until you remember that it's not there.
He nods once, his concerned face shifting into rage when he hears the sound of cannon balls behind him.
“Unfurl the fuckin' topsails!” He whirls around, directing his crew.
You hear fabric above you unfolding, the large blood red sails fills your vision. It dances in the wind like a macabre waltz.
You follow Hobie's line of sight, he glares at the large ship looming over the distance. The royal navy seal flaps on their bright blue sails.
“The Black Hellion” Hobie spits venom when he says the name. As he says it, a smaller ship appears behind the Hellion, racing to get to the Revenge.
“Fuck” he takes your hand, leading you under the stairs. Your legs drag as the crew rushes to get to their stations.
“Did you lead them here?!” Hobie grabs you by the shoulder, shoving you beneath the staircase, the wood behind you digs into your skin.
“What?! I swear I didn't— I didn't even know who you were until I got off the fucking net!” you stare down his angry eyes, grey swirling like a storm brewing behind it. “I swear on my life I am not navy!”
“You better not be,” He takes a rope from his belt then ties your hands together. Hobie lifts you by the binds effortlessly to a hook hanging above. You're dangling from the metal, the toes of your feet are barely on the ground.
“Hey—! What are you—?”
“We'll talk after this. Stay out of my way” Hobie leaves you behind.
You look at his retreating back in-between the spaces in the stairs. “Hobie! I'm not fucking navy!” you watch as he leads his entire crew with the anger of a lightning storm.
There's drum beats sounding above, bells ringing further across the water. You surmise the battle's only beginning.
Another cannon blasts, you cover your ears with your raised arms. The smell of gunpowder tickles your nostrils. The muffled yells of the pirates makes your head swirl and your heart pump rapidly. You try to jump as high as you can to get out of the hook, but it's too high up.
The boat lunges to the side again, the entire structure shakes. Your body swings and you hit your back against the hard wall. Groaning, your vision blurs for a second. Honing on the action, the navy ship rammed itself on the side of the revenge. You see uniform clad men jump ship, immediately fighting with the people you broke bread with.
There's a clashing of swords, pistols are fired wildly at each other. There's groans and screams of pain. You can't believe a few minutes ago the ship was full of laughter and warmth. Now blood is being spilled on the very floors you've cleaned. The laughter is replaced with agony filled yells and gurgled last words.
A sailor runs at full speed towards you, his sword shining in the moonlight. He yells a battlecry. The thought of them saving you is out of the window.
In an instant, a metal chain wraps around the uniformed man’s neck, he flies back, landing brutally, cracking the wood under him. You follow the end of the chain, you see Hobie dragging the sailor away, yanking and pulling at his neck until you hear a snap. The man lies still, you meet with Hobie's eyes through the stairs, you see a hurricane brewing in them.
He flings the chain back to him, the body thuds lifelessly on the wood. Hobie leaves without sparing you another glance. You've seen death numerous times during your journeys but not like this.
Not in front of you.
You stare at the body, all the noise and clashing of weapons falls deaf in your ears. Your hands shake, chest heaving and skin raising.
You have to get out of here.
Even if you have to chance it with the dinghy, even if you don't know how to row a boat or navigate the deep waters, you're gonna get out of here, out of the chaos and warm crimson that's seeping into the floorboards. You refuse to watch the chaos, but you can't avoid their shadows dancing in the moonlight.
You jump again, nothing. Again. You feel the rope lift up for a second. There's something metallic sliding near you, the knife stops near the foot of the stairs. It's too far away for you to even reach with your foot.
The rope burns your wrists, skin scraping against the rough hemp. It stings, like tear drops, your blood is slowly running down your arm.
You've got a better idea but it's a stretch. You still try it, moving your hands back and forth by swinging side to side, you slowly cut the rope with the sharp edge of the hook. Flakes of hemp fall on your head like snow.
There's a high pitched gasp in front of you, the sound makes you pause. Watching through the stairs, you see Gwen struggle under a large uniform clad man, his hands are around her throat. Squeezing painfully.
You hasten your movements, the rope cuts loose, the second your feet hit the ground, you run.
Grabbing the fallen knife from the ground with hot adrenaline rushing in your veins, you plunge it on the man's thigh swiftly. He screams in agony. You help Gwen up, she coughs loudly, clutching at her bruising neck.
“You fucking bitch!” The man grits his teeth, circling his hand around the handle of the knife still in his skin, he grins a bloodied smile.
You hear Gwen snicker in your arms.
He grabs the knife out of his thigh with a sickening squelch. Blood spurts out of him like a fountain, spraying you with warm ichor. You freeze. Gwen kicks the panicking man in the middle of his chest, he falls like a sack of potatoes on the floor, screaming and trying desperately to stop his bleeding.
You look around the chaos, trying not to listen to the man's pained screams. There's clouds of gunpowder hanging in the air, hiding all the bodies lying on the deck, away from your eyes.
“Gwen.” Hobie's raspy voice echoes out in the silence and atop of the leftover screams of the defeated. He throws her a pistol wordlessly.
Without hesitation, Gwen puts an end to the screaming.
There's complete silence now, the moon still hangs overhead, you wonder if the moon saw everything.
It looks like the pirates won as the navy ship is now commandeered by Hobie's crew. James yells from the mast, flipping the bird towards the retreating Black Hellion.
Shards of broken wood lay next to bodies, both pirates and navy. But the navy looks like it's the one that has suffered more loss. Pistols and muskets are littered around the once pristine deck. The smell of death and burned gunpowder permeates the air.
There's fresh crimson flowing beneath you, drenching the soles of your weathered boots. You feel the warmth spreading under your feet.
A hand claps your shoulder, “you saved me, thank you” Gwen smiles genuinely at you.
A yelp takes both of your attention, a man in a lieutenant’s uniform kneels in front of Hobie, his back being pushed down by Finn's boot.
Hobie crouches down, taking the sailor’s chin in his hand, his nails digging into the man's skin.
“Lieutenant George, your Captain left you to die.” He chuckles without humour. “So much for being called the king's flame, huh?.” Hobie sighs.
The lieutenant spits but Hobie dodges it. “I will use your own limbs to dig your grave! You damn pirate!”
“That doesn't sound practical” He stands up, under Hobie's bloodstained face you see the lines in-between his brows, tired, you know it well. “Take him below, Finn.”
“As for you,” Hobie's bloodshot eyes address you, he smiles, the twinkle in his eyes are back. “Red looks good on you.”
You stare at him dumbfounded, realization hits you. With your sleeves, you wipe your face, smearing the ichor all over your skin more.
“Lock her in one of the cabins.” Hobie says to the men behind you. They take you by the arms.
“Wait—! Why? I told you I'm not one of them!”
“Hobie, come on, she saved my life!” Gwen advocates for you.
“I know, I saw, we're just gonna ask her questions, yeah?” Hobie stands in front of you, in all his blood soaked form. “She has nothin' to worry about unless she's hidin’ somethin’”
You could only glare at him as you're being dragged away, too exhausted from everything.
The rest of the crew watch on. Maybe the stories are right. But for your sake, you hope it's not.
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A/N: Thank you for reading! Special thanks to my bestie @thesevenofstaves for helping me out with the titles/names 🫶
162 notes · View notes
dema-heart · 3 months
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THE SQUABBLING!!!!!!!!
*rubs bum* I'm glad the fish broke our fall, but dang, we were not awake enough to get flung down like that. 😵‍💫😵‍💫I literally screamed "noooooo" when i read drop the net🤣
Damn right I'm a fighter, even if the fish and head butt didn't work. And I got anxiety too, so step back, or I'll bite 🤣🤨
Heheheheheheheheh loved the big scary guy who had to be the captain, but it's actually the one behind him bit. You alllllllllmost had me was like wait is he wearing a fake beard to look scary🤣🤣
*swoons* yes sir please forever look at me like you found treasure. *swoons* pretty lips you say.....I mean suddenly that mouth to mouth doesn't sound so bad 🤭🤭
PUSH ME OFF!?!?!?! *reads next line and cackled cause r says the same thing I just did*🤣🤣🤣🤣
and of course, he's as perceptive as always and has to be an ass about it🙄 thank you to the few who tried to keep me 🫠
YOU WOULDN'T BE SAVING ME IF YOU DIDN'T HAVE ME PUSHED OFF ASSHOLE. SO YEAH YOU'RE A FUCKER😂😂😂🥰 and ah can't Threaten me now you almost killed me huh huh 🙄😒
Ah I loved this! This is actually how I imagine meeting mr.big bad pirate hobie would go well maybe not the plank walk 🤣 but fighting him for saving me sounds right
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Claimed by the Sea
Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader
Word count: 2.6k
Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), reader has nicknames, TW injury, TW drowning, CW blood.
Navigation
Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist
Chapter 2 >>> Chapter 3
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Your head is lolling off to the side, eyes growing heavy with the soft swaying of the ship in the waves. The only thing that's keeping you awake is the smell of fish lingering in the netting. Sniffing, you feel yourself succumbing to sleep.
You jolt awake when the fishing net jostles then slowly raises up, there's a mechanical whirring from the deck. The sun is peeking from the horizon, bathing you in blue.
“No, no, no!” Holding onto the net, you hold on for dear life. You just hope the sailors are friendly enough to let you on board until they dock to the nearest land.
Your only sanctuary floats above the deck, overlooking every crew moving about. Looking below, you spot their rugged clothing *They don't look like sailors. Maybe they're not wearing their blue uniform? It's casual Friday perhaps?
“Drop the bloody thing!” Someone yells from below, you and the net fall from a height that you're sure broke something in you.
With your eyes shut, you hit the deck with a splattering sound. Thankfully you land on the pile of fish, squishing a sizable chunk on the wood; decorating their ship with fish guts. Your butt hurts from the impact, you're for sure going to be picking out fish bones embedded in your skin.
Someone gasps loudly next to you. Hearing frantic slashing sounds, you shield your face from the shiny knife. Before you know it, you're free from the tangles on the net, baring yourself to the entire crew.
“Fuckin' hell! It's a mermaid!” A man with long blonde hair tied into a bun excitedly yells out.
You look at him with wide eyes, the large black flag hangs above him, the skeleton of a spider painted on the flag dances in the wind.
They're not from the royal navy.
Running footsteps come towards you, then they stop. You watch as twenty or so people circle around your fallen form. You instinctively cover yourself with the net. Their faces morph from surprise to amusement. Some laugh, some roll their eyes in annoyance.
A man with glasses slaps the blonde upside his head. “You idiot! Does she look like a fuckin’ mermaid to you?” he points at your legs that are clearly not fins.
The blonde looks disappointed, “Man, I thought my dream came true”
“Looks like we've got a stowaway!” They sneer and jeer, looking down at you, leaning their scarred faces close to your face. Too close.
“Get off me!” You push one away. Taking a fish from the ground to defend yourself. Throwing it directly at his eyepatch. They laugh louder at your expense.
“She's a fighter too! Cap’n! Look at what the fish dragged in!” A man with a peg leg, calls.
With heaving breaths you watch as a large man comes down from the steps of the quarter deck. His heavy footfalls quieting the roaring laughter immediately, his arms are as big as your head, tattoos decorating every inch of his ivory skin. His big bushy beard moves as he spits on the deck. Your eyes flick to his tree trunk like waist, his gun and cutlass glinting in the barely rising sun.
He huffs, smoke comes out of his nostrils. His eyes stare you down and you visibly shrink.
“C’mon, big man, bloody move it” a slender hand grabs the man's large shoulder, moving him away to reveal a tall, slim figure. He smiles once he takes you in. “What do we have ‘ere?”
“A stowaway, Cap’n” the one with glasses informs him. “Got into the fishing net”
He saunters over to you, heavy boots thudding against the wood. The metals hanging from his clothes are swinging and clashing as he moves. The crowd parts for him. His hands are in his leather vest, he looks at you like he's found buried treasure. His grey eyes are twinkling in the blue light, a smirk playing on his pierced lips.
You grab your necklace for comfort, heart sinking to your stomach, the golden chain is nowhere to be found. You pat around your neck and blouse. Nothing. You're alone.
“Thought ol’ Jamesy ‘ere found us a mermaid” he bends at the waist, giving you a full view of his chiselled face. His eyes are shining with amusement.
You recognize his face from all the wanted posters you've seen around different towns while travelling. If the circumstances were different you'd say the painting didn't capture him right; how his eyes look at you with hidden apprehensiveness, yet there's something dangerous in them, something that could spell your doom.
Your fear increases tenfold when you roam your eyes around the different faces watching you. There's recognition in some of them, some more than others, their bounties you've seen on their respective posters appear above their heads; each in increasing numbers.
“Aye, thought so too” ‘Jamesy’ mumbles dejectedly.
His voice shakes you out of your fear laden stupor, but it's still there, still in your quaking heart and sweaty palms.
“Y’know, we don't take too kindly to stowaways.” Hobie’s threat makes you jump in your skin.
“I heard you're not kind to anybody” you grit your teeth.
You're facing him head on, despite your heart pumping loudly against your ribcage when you get a glimpse of his twin blunderbusses strapped to his waist.
A smile spreads on his face, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Hear that lads? We're proper famous!” he leans away,
They all guffaw, snickering among the crowd. A blonde with chopped hair and pink highlights push through the audience. She clicks her tongue, sleep clinging to her lashes.
“What's all this, Hobie?”
“A stowaway, Gwendy. You remember what we do to stowaways?”
‘Gwendy’ rolls her eyes. “I'm too tired for this,” she sighs. “Let's hear her side before we push her off, yeah?”
Push me off?! Your eyes are widely roaming around the strangers, pleading for an ounce of mercy.
“Be my guest” He slides to the side, gesturing towards you.
The blonde stares at you, waiting for some explanation. You can't help but think you remember her from somewhere but you're drawing a blank. Swallowing a lump in your throat, the fishy smell and the numerous eyes on you turns your stomach inside out.
“I was–” the large man you thought was the captain stares daggers at you. “It was an accident, really. You see, I was incredibly drunk” you try to stop the shaking in your voice to sound more convincing. “And I thought I was going home, truly.”
“You thought a fishing net was your home?” the entire crew laughs rambunctiously.
Hobie observes you from the side, leaning on the bannister so casually.
“Maybe we should just turn around and bring her home. That'll be okay, right?” A teenager with curly hair and golden bangles on his wrists pipes up from the side.
You think of the man waiting for you at the docks. You'd rather be fed to the sharks.
“Yeah, 'm sure she'd like that, won't you, scuttlebutt?” The captain smirks at you, there's a knowing look on his face. “Unless you don't want to go home? I don't see why we can't just drop you off.”
He moves closer to you, squatting down to face you. “Or she doesn't want to go home, judging from the go bag, this isn't some little drunk accident.” you can feel your pulse trying to escape. His eyes never leave yours. “Sure you smell like fish but I don't smell any liquor on those pretty lips of yours.” Hobie tilts his head, smiling mischievously. “You're running from someone, aren't you?”
You glare at him despite the fear crawling up your neck.
He nods, “Yeah, you are. We'd rather not be involved with whatever you've got goin' on.” his face turns serious, not even a ghost of a smile. “Finn”
With one call, the giant man takes you by the shoulders, standing you back to your shaky feet. You squirm, doing your best to push him off, but it's no use, he's too strong.
“Sorry to see you go so soon but I've got my entire crew to worry ‘bout.” he says softly.
You scoff, spitting venom. “The only thing you pirates care about is treasure and your next mark.”
With one last fight, you stomp on the man's boot clad foot, headbutting him in quick succession. They hoot and holler as your vision swirls.
Your act of defiance didn't even make the man flinch, he grunts, narrowing his eyes at you. Hobie's lackey turns you around to face the sea and the entrance to your death. Looking over your shoulder, you see him raise his thick eyebrow at you in mild annoyance.
“She's a feisty one, Hobie, you sure we can't let her stay? I'll take good care of her” A tall ravenette coos at you, staring directly at you with her dark eyes.
“I agree with Hobie, she might bring trouble” Another teenager comments, he crosses his arms, his eyes stare at you with remorse.
The man pushes you towards the open side of the ship where a singular wooden plank hangs precariously. The corner of the railing hits the small of your back. Your bag falls loudly on the deck, but you've got bigger problems right now than the sparse savings you've hidden inside.
“Wait!” You swallow your pride, it's better than drowning in the cold salty waters. “Please I'll do anything to stay or– or you can drop me off to the nearest land! Just–!” Finn pushes you again, your feet shuffle to fit the thin wood. The wind picks up, whipping at you wildly. The waves crash harshly on the side of the ship.
The vertigo makes you dizzy.
“Please! I can't–!”
Finn unsheathes his cutlass, pointing it at your heaving chest. You feel the sharp tip draw blood. He pushes and pushes until you're on the very edge of the plank. You struggle to find your balance while the wind blows rapidly, it stings your eyes, tears forming in them.
They all watch, some are grinning ear to ear like it's the best theatre show they've seen. The others are looking away or staring at their feet. Hobie looks on, posture straight, knuckles tight on his side.
“I can't swim–!” With one last push from the sharp sword, you fall.
Just above you, the pirates run towards the bannister to watch you fall in the water with a large splash.
Your back is stinging from the impact of the water, head pounding against your skull. The cold is unbearable like needles pricking your skin. You try to paddle up despite your thick clothes bringing you further down in the dark abyss. The dim light acts as your guide to the surface but it doesn't seem like your body is moving, you're quickly losing air. Bubbles escape from your lips, the salt blurs your vision.
Desperately with one kick, you feel the air from your lungs empty out, legs numb, hands reaching out towards the surface.
You choke on the salty water.
Her smiling face emerges from the darkness, now you know you've drowned. The only reason she would want you back is in death.
There's a muffled splash, a warm hand reaching for your cold ones. An unfamiliar arm snakes around your waist, bringing you up to the surface. They Frantically kick up, you feel a feather light touch on your freezing cheeks.
“Oi!” A muffled voice says. “Oi! Don't make me do mouth to mouth!” His voice gets clearer, he shakes your head, you feel calloused fingers on your skin then a breath fanning against your lips.
You splutter out, expelling water from your lungs with a choke. Holding to the nearest, steady thing, you grasp onto what feels like strong shoulders. Beneath your shaking fingers you feel raised scars.
“There you go, let it out, scuttlebutt” he pats your back as you continue to cough out. Your nails dig into his bare skin, he doesn't seem to mind. “Good on you for not makin’ me do mouth to mouth, huh?”
You wheeze out. “You fucker”
“What?”
“I said, you fucker!” Pushing him away, you sink back into the water, you panic once again.
Hobie grabs your wrist with one hand to pull you up like freshly caught fish. You glare at him through wet lashes.
“I saved your life and you're callin' me fucker?” You want to smack the smirk off his face.
“I almost drowned because of you!”
“Yeah, but that doesn't matter now because I saved your land loving arse! Who at this age can't swim anyway?!”
“Me, you bitch!” you try to kick him underwater.
“Hey, do you want to catch hyperthermia or what?” Gwendy asks from the lowered dinghy, her foot is resting on the edge casually, hand on her chin and a pierced eyebrow raised questioningly at you and Hobie who splashes water directly at your face.
With some help, you dog paddle to the boat. The smiling teenager helps you up, you feel like a ton of bricks with your thick clothes drenched.
“Here,” he takes his coat to place it around your shivering shoulders. “I'm Pavitr by the way, you okay?”
Pavitr tries to rub your shoulders for extra warmth but you flinch back, hugging the coat tighter around you.
“I'm fine, thank you, Pavitr”
The blonde pipes up, “I'm Gwen”
You nod, good thing you haven't called her ‘Gwendy’ yet.
“You needed the bath anyway, fish girl” Hobie scoffs from the other side of the boat.
You glare at him, huddled to yourself in the corner of the raising boat. The squeaking from the pulley makes you hold onto the side tighter, just in case it fails and drops you back down in the freezing water.
Hobie chuckles, water drips off his bare chest, glittering under the peaking sun. You look away with a roll of your eyes.
“Gwen, give her something warm to eat, yeah? And some clothes.”
“I was about to do that anyway”
The boat reaches back up, the crew secures the rope on the pulley with a grunt.
Hobie drops down on the deck first, he offers his hand that you huff at. Ignoring his help, you step on to the ship with shaky legs.
“Sea legs, you have to get used to it or the next two weeks for you would be hell.”
“What?”
“‘m letting you on board until we reach land. Unfortunately for you that won't be for the next two weeks. After that we're even.”
“Look who's guilty for almost killing me” you stand toe to toe with him. The rest of the crew has either gotten bored or are watching you two squabble with a smile.
“Don't push your luck, fish girl or I'll make you walk the plank again” he challenges you with a sly smile.
“I have a name!”
The captain tilts his head, amused. “Yeah? Tell me then so I have something to write on your gravestone”
You point angrily at his tattooed chest, right on the inky drawing of a long legged spider. “It's Y/N, asshole!”
Gwen sighs, waving you off.
“Well, Y/N Asshole, keep that fire in you but don't let it burn down my ship or–”
“Or what?”
He stares at your eyes, swirling grey whirlpools threatening to pull you under. Hobie sighs, turning around abruptly, leaving you standing alone on the deck.
“Hey!” You call back, “or what huh?!”
He waves you off, “‘s too early for this shit, ‘m goin' back to sleep. Goodnight, fish girl!”
Change of plans: survive the next two weeks with an entire ship full of pirates or die drowning in the middle of the sea. That should be easy enough, right?
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A/N: Thank you for reading 😘
183 notes · View notes
dema-heart · 4 months
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Me hugging you from across the world for another amazing story!
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Seafoam on the shore
Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader
Word count: 2.8k
Tags: Use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW drinking, CW food mentions, TW injury.
Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist
Navigation
CHAPTER 1 >>> CHAPTER 2
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You run as fast as you can, your feet flying off the muddy uneven streets. Huffing while a local copper yells at you to stop, his yells get more exhausted every second he chases after you. So far he isn't even near you, one of the few benefits of staying at a provincial fishing town is that the police are either too out of shape to catch you, their bellies round, definitely full of ale. Or they simply don't give a damn about a pickpocket, muttering to themselves how they're not paid enough to do a city cop's job.
Losing your balance, you silently curse at your worn down work boots. Sliding off the ground, skidding off down the streets, disturbing the hustle and bustle of the market. You hit a vegetable cart along the way, wood splintering, scratching your arms. Cabbages and carrots fly off, there's yelling and screaming around you and your legs are aching from the impact.
“Sorry!” You yell back to a disgruntled vendor.
He curses at you and your entire family for ruining his sale. You take a mental note to pay him back somehow when you're not currently occupied.
Digging your heels in, you come to a halt, you're lucky enough to get a hold on a lamp post. Glancing behind, you don't see the cop running after you but you're not taking any chances so you enter a tight alleyway. You know this village like the back of your hand, you have to or else seeing the inside of the jail would be waiting for you in the future.
Knowing there’s a pipe somewhere along the walls, you run your muddy hands along the bricks, the cramp walls touching your back and chest, you stop when your nail hits something metallic.
Your ears perk up at someone snitching, “fuck” without hesitation, you climb up the rusty pipe.
Hands digging into the metal. It creaks and groans, but it seems like lady luck is on your side when you reach the top with no problems.
Hearing hurried footsteps down below, you immediately lie low on the roof. Hiding yourself from his gaze. The cop glances around the alley, scratching his head, confused as to how you escaped without a trace.
“Damn” he mutters, completely winded.
You smile to yourself as he leaves. The sun bares at your back, cotton blouse sticking to your skin. Needing a bath is an understatement.
Standing up, you carefully tread the roof, avoiding floors that look damaged. You definitely don't want a repeat incident of what happened six villages ago. You can never get used to the view from up high, the sea blends in with the orange sky, melting together, blues, greens and reds mingle in harmony. The setting sun paints a picturesque scenery, draping everything it touches in its heavenly light.
Ships and fishing boats float above the waves as if they're dancing to the sound of the water splashing on its wooden sides.
Your hands instinctively reach for the necklace hidden under your blouse. Fingers tracing the etching of a flying bird that you know like the back of your hand.
Despite the open sea, you can't help but feel trapped. The docks beckon you over to somewhere you can't remember, somewhere where you can rest in peace, somewhere across the deep dark treacherous sea are people you can call your home. People who may have been looking for you all this time. Their faces are but a blur in your mind, voices a mere echo lingering in your heart. The pendant leaves a circular indent on your palms as you grip it tight.
Is it possible to miss someone you don't even remember?
Your train of thought gets interrupted by movement from a ship floating along the dock, a large sailboat whose wood differs from each one of its structures. You can tell from how some of it is painted gold and silver like the ones on royal ships, it looks like it was hastily hammered into regular oak with intricate carvings. Some wood blends better together, dark timber melding with ashen wood. Three cannons are lined on the sides, its metal having seen better days, no longer glimmering in the sunlight.
From where you're standing, the figurehead on the bow looks peculiar, like nothing you've ever seen traveling along coastal towns. A fierce creature with sharp teeth opening its jaws, eyes wide and alert. Its red scaly skin adds to its terrifying image. What's more peculiar is the lack of flag flying on its mast. An unknown ship from an unknown place tickles your curiosity.
You slink back down on the roof when a woman emerges from below deck, her blond hair shining under the sun. Another much taller one follows behind her. Raven colored hair flowing in the soft wind. They seem to be arguing, but you're completely bewildered as to how they're allowed to sail. All this time, you can't believe that you can actually step foot inside a boat, moreso sail on it.
This changes everything, you suppose.
You leave the roof, letting the women argue amongst themselves. Expertly hopping from awning to canopy, you land at your final destination, the White Salmon pub.
Jumping down, you land on a cart full of broken fishing nets, it's a miracle that you weren't tangled under all the mess.
Entering the rowdy pub, the smell of ale and pickled fish enters your nostrils. A bunch of sailors sing off key in the middle, too drunk to care about the ruckus they're making. You try to blend in with the drunk crowd, hiding behind people, weaving around them to sneak past the bar and upto the stairs leading up to your room.
“Oi! did ya think I wouldn't notice ya?”
You stop just about the foot of the stairs. Groaning in exasperation, quickly taking off the bandana tied around your face to conceal half of your face. You try your best to put your best smile, turning your charm up to a hundred.
“Hi, aunty Janet” you walk towards her like a child caught with their hands inside the cookie jar. “I got the butter you asked”
Janet huffs, eyes narrowed, her brows furrowed. You place the stick of butter in front of her like an offering to appease an angry God.
“Please don't tell me the coppers will be knocking on my doors again”
“That was one time! Besides I actually paid for this one” you push the butter towards her with your finger. She stares at it like you're giving her contraband.
You give her one charming smile, she sighs, taking the butter from the counter. “You're on thin ice, Y/N. Don't make me regret taking you in.”
“That was a year ago and look, I'm still here!”
“A year and a half, I counted because with every shit ya manage to pull, a strand of my hair turns white.” she points at her hair that's almost completely white. “This used to be black”
“I know, I'm sorry. I just need to–”
“To what? It always seems like you're hiding shit from me and Thena” She tries to hold your hand on the counter but you flinch away.
“Won't happen again, I promise.” A clear lie on your part, you'll just have to be better at sneaking. You vault over the counter to roll up your sleeves, clean yourself up and put on your apron.
“When will you learn, girl?”
“When the king sentences me to death himself!” grabbing an empty tray, you start clearing a nearby table. Janet pinches the bridge of her nose.
After dodging rowdy customers and a flying pint, Thena takes a break with you in the tiny corner of the tavern. She unabashedly sighs loudly, smelling of ale and lavender she hastily rubbed on to mask the scent of alcohol.
You side eye her with a tired smile, Thena sighs again, louder this time, a few patrons gaze your way.
“Alright, what's wrong?”
“Oh nothin' it's just Arthur's back again and he hasn't even glanced my way”
You flick your eyes towards the blonde patron nursing a pint, his green eyes meet yours, he smiles with his yellow teeth and you look away immediately, not from embarrassment, no, but from how you don't want his eyes on you.
Why in the world is Thena so smitten by someone like Arthur who comes and goes into the pub more than he goes inside a bathroom?
“You could do better, Thena. One that actually brings in coins instead of using them all in the pub or a brothel.”
“I know,” she sighs once again. Leaning closer to your side so you slide further away. “But he's the fittest bloke here though” whining, she puffs out her cheeks.
As if some divine comedy, Arthur beckons you over with a twist of his hand. You internally cringe.
Thena gasps, “I think he's finally taking notice of me!” She stands up, sauntering over to his table with the confidence of a newborn deer.
Before you could rescue her though, Janet yells at you from the other side of the room. “Get back to work, Y/N!” She signals with head, pointing towards a table by the corner.
You groan, lumbering your way towards the customers. His large back is turned away from you, brown hair neatly slicked back, clothes looking too neat and expensive for a dingy pub like the white salmon. His companion thumps her head on the wall lightly like she's trying to get water out of her ears. Her hair is cut short, glasses over her almond shaped eyes, clothes equally looking expensive but less neat than her large companion.
Her lips turn upwards once she sees you. “Finally some service” she stretches her legs out, noting how she's wearing trousers instead of the usual frilly skirts rich women wear.
“Sorry, what can I do for you?” You put on your customer service voice that's laced with mild annoyance. The man sits still like a rock, his back still turned away from you.
“Fish and chips, some pickled eggs and a pint.” She glances at her friend before groaning with a sly smirk. “And he'll have plain porridge, no seasoning, just porridge. It's better if it's days old. Right, Miguel?”
The man huffs, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. The single candle light on the table illuminates his chiseled face, turning his eyes crimson.
“A pint will do” his voice is gruff yet calm.
There's alarm bells ringing in your head, the tray falls from your shaking hands. Your heart thumps louder than the clanking metal.
“Careful there, it's bad to drink on the job” His friend’s comment falls on deaf ears as you stare at the man before you. His expression doesn't change except for how his eyebrows lift slightly.
It's been years, surely he doesn't recognize me as an adult, right?
You clear your throat, mustering the best smile you can do. “Sorry about that, I'll get your orders right away” leaning down to take the tray from the sticky floors, your necklace slips out of your blouse, the gold shimmering in the candle light.
He could burn you with just his stare.
Walking briskly, clutching the tray, its metal is uncomfortably cold on your skin. The pub seems to get louder and louder with every footstep, the laughter and rowdy singing makes you dizzy. Janet calls after you as you run up the stairs to your room.
Thinking fast, you lock the door, pushing your dresser to further lock it. Your mind races to the floorboards beneath your threadbare bed. With your bare hands you hastily take the wood out revealing a hollow hole containing your possessions.
There's loud booming footsteps climbing up the stairs. Followed by his voice calling your name.
“Fuck” without thinking, you take the bag from its hiding place, slinging it over your shoulder before you cross the small space to the window.
“Y/N, Please!” He keeps calling after you. “Let me just,” thump, “fuck!”
That's your signal to jump down.
Landing on your heels, you feel your knees aching from the fall. You hear your bedroom door slam open with a force that surely broke its hinges.
You run like you've ran from him like last time.
Suddenly, you're thirteen years old, weaving through the forest, vines prickling your legs as you wade through the thicket. White lilies are but a blur as tears flow freely from your eyes as you keep running without a destination.
Why? Aren't you enough? Did she not love you like you thought she did? What did you do to deserve being abandoned twice?
You're back to the present when he yells your name again. Your heart pounds loudly on your ribcage, lungs burning, you feel like you're about to collapse.
His companion also runs after you, screaming your name desperately.
But you have the upperhand. Using the moon as your guide, you climb up a house, its bricks protruding out of the walls, the place you used to climb to practice, but now you climb it to save your own skin.
Running from roof to roof, you feel a presence behind you. His thunderous footsteps echo into the cold night. You don't dare look behind.
The woman follows you from the ground, her heels clicking on the uneven sidewalk. “Y/N! Wait up–shit!” Without looking down, you hear her fall.
He screams your name again, the same one she called you back then.
You run furiously, jumping off the side only to keep running towards the docks. Panicking, you see a ship leaving the docks, its fishing net left hanging on the side. Without thinking, you make a break for it.
Sprinting on the old docks, you leap the huge gap. Miraculously, you take hold of the net, clinging to it with all your might. Entering the net, you ignore the smell of fish, watching as the place you once called home gets smaller and smaller.
You say goodbye to Janet, who kindly took you in without asking for anything in return. Who gave you a job and a room so you don't freeze and starve outside. Who took care of you when you fell ill to the cold.
You say goodbye to Thena, the only friend you've ever had, the longest friend you've ever had. The same Thena who taught you how to sew and mend your own clothes. Thena who taught you how to throw a punch when a handsy sailor tries to touch you.
Thena whom you've grown accustomed to calling you her sister.
You say goodbye to the fishing town you've only recently called your home.
You say goodbye to the man at the docks who's staring at your fleeing form, whose eyes are narrowed, almost pleading for you to come back.
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A/N: There's no Hobie appearance in this chapter yet :( (next chapter though 👀)
Hope you like it, thank you for reading!
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