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#hobie Brown x reader
the-kr8tor · 21 hours
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...And The Deep Blue Sea
Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader
Word count: 13.2k
Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW food mentions, TW blood, CW violence, TW death, CW gore, CW injury, CW guns.
A/N: it's the end.
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Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist
CHAPTER 15 >>>
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“Hello, little birdy.” Mathias cackles like there's a pebble stuck in his throat.
He roams his sickly yellowed eyes at your body, sending shivers down your spine with every glance. “Or should I say Viscountess?” He laughs again. “You wear that gown well,” his eyes flick behind you, “Eugene, my boy!” The man beside you stiffens up. “Come get your bride and sit with me.” He drums at the table. “The Food is comin’, I heard that the bride and groom usually don't get to eat after everything is said and done. We don't want you to starve, ain't that right, lieutenant?”
The eye patched man standing in the corner nods slowly. His hands are neatly tucked behind his back like an obedient dog waiting for his master.
“You're alive?” You say breathlessly, teeth gritted, knuckles clenching tight on the skirt of your dress. Pulse rapidly thrumming, sending alarm bells to ring in your ear.
“‘course I am! No one can kill the king's flame, not even the red hydra,” he spits the name out. “or even a real fuckin' hydra.” Chuckling, scars mar his neck and hands, the only visible ones under his navy blue officer's uniform. It's still red and angry, you can tell some parts of it hasn't healed yet. You plan to add more, whether it's by your bare hands or a piece of cutlery; you're prepared to hit him where it hurts.
Numerous medals are on display on his jacket, shining under the sunlight filtering through the closed curtains. “Can you believe it? I go out to hunt the red hydra and I get myself a pretty bird.” He continues annoyingly, voice crackling, a dry cough escaping his pale mouth.
Mathias notices you still standing in the doorway, his eyes are dull, like a hurricane that's about to devastate a whole town. Eugene notices and he reaches for your arm to sit you down. You flinch away from his touch, eyes trained on the man before you.
“I said sit down!” Mathias’ booming voice rings out in the dining hall, his fist slamming on the table, champagne flutes fall over like dominoes with a harsh crack. “Fuckin’ grab her, Eugene! Don't be such a fuckin’ cock and grab her!”
“Y-yes uncle.” Your ‘fiance’ tentatively guides you towards the chair by your elbow, you brush off his touch, angry eyes gazing at his cowardly face.
Sitting down on the right side of Mathias, you intentionally choose a chair as far away from him as possible. But before you could sit, he clicks his tongue, finger wagging in front of his scarred face.
“Not there, gorgeous.” He pats the seat closest to him. “Right here.”
“No,” you stand your ground, shaking from anger, or is it fear that climbs in your stomach and crawls upwards to your quickening heart?
You refuse to get near the monster as Eugene stares across from you with anxiety in his eyes.
“Sit. Down.” Mathias enunciated, “or Lieutenant Dubois here will make you sit down.” Said uniformed man grunts, hazel eye roaming across the table, gaze boring a hole in between your twitching eyes. The sheath of his cutlass is engraved with tally marks among the ornate laurels and lions. “You already know what he'll do to you, he's quite amazing with a sharp object.”
“I am too.” You clench your jaw, still refusing to sit.
To your surprise, Mathias grins, a sickeningly hideous smile, teeth bared, tongue lapping at the gold in place of the fangs, lips wrinkling, he chuckles softly as something passes by his yellowed eyes.
“Sorry ‘bout that, you just reminded me so much of your father.” He leans on the back of his chair, hands gesturing towards you. “I literally saw him instead of you! It's fuckin' crazy innit?” He shoves Eugene by the shoulder, the viscount flinches, wincing at the ache. “Y’know, I recognized you— wait, lieutenant! Grab her and make her sit down! This story deserves to be listened to properly.”
“No!” You try to run back to the hallway, but the man is too fast for you. With the heavy skirt and weak leg, you didn't have a chance against him. “Motherfucker—!” With his arms around your torso, you kick and flail about, Mathias gives him a look and the man headbutts you from behind.
The room spins as he carries you towards the chair. The ceiling swirls, ears flooding with your rushing blood. With your muddled hearing, you swear you heard Eugene defend you, and you swear you heard a slap right after.
With a heavy thunk, the door closes behind you, your exit closes behind you. The only remaining door is across you, it's currently closed but you're sure it's unlocked judging by the draft coming from it. Head still aching, vision warbling, the one eyed man stands in front of the only exit.
“Now where was I?” Mathias continues like nothing happened. You glare at him through the corner of your eyes, your skin feels like spikes from the goosebumps rising above. “Ah, yes! I recognized you on the ship, before a literal myth came eating my crew. By the way, what the fuck was that, huh? Fuckin' weird, right?”
“Shut the fuck up.” You say weakly.
“Anywho, You looked a lot like your father but with your mother's beauty. I knew them, your father more so. Once upon a time he was my lieutenant, he was pretty good at it too. Too bad he had to disobey orders and marry above his station.”
“Why don't you ever shut up?” You lay your elbows on the table, arms flat, slyly covering the steak knife under your arm. “Are you a narcissist? Do you like hearing your own voice—?”
Mathias hurls a salad plate at your head. You dodge it in time before it shatters on the floor. You don't have time for this, you need to get to Hobie immediately, before it's too late. You have no plan, no weapons, but you'll be damned if you don't try. And you can still hear his screams echoing in your ears, as if he's already dead, as if he's already haunting you.
You need to try. Or it'll be your end too.
The monster before you clears his throat. “Don't be rude.” He points a finger at you.
You now notice how worse for wear he is, under the white paint and powdered wig lies injuries that haven't healed since the fight. You smell it, the herbs hastily smudged, and the rot in his flesh. It seeps into his bones, poisoning his body. You just wish it'll eat at him faster.
You're suddenly not afraid anymore.
“Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted. Your father, well, he fought a good fight on the Demeter. He stood his ground till the very end until a dozen or so bullets pierced his skin.”
The crescent in your palms gets deeper.
“He was smart though, smarter than you probably. You see, he rigged the ship to blow. He had the fuckin' balls to do it even though his entire family was inside. Ain't it funny—?” The double doors swing open.
The butler interrupts his speech, a handful of staff bring in an entire chicken at his plate. One pours him a glass of wine before he snatches the entire bottle and places it right next to his glass. Hot soup and meat pie is brought in also, the smell is appetizing but you place your hand over your plate wordlessly, telling them you're not hungry at the moment. How could you be when Mathias eats in front of you like he hasn't eaten in decades?
The tension is thicker than the cream placed in front of Eugene.
He munches loudly as he takes apart the roast. String of meat flies all over, the former white table cloth turns brown when he wipes his hands on it. Eugene spares you a look, eyes staring forlornly at his empty plate. His hand inching closer towards his goblet before deciding to just drink the ruby liquid.
You're on your own.
The wolves devour their fill whilst you plan your escape. Your mind screams for you to run, to run where no one can find you. The voice echoing in your ears is right at one thing, but you'll never hide anymore, not from Mathias, not from your past, not from anyone. You'd face it with fire in your veins just like your father had.
Mathias snorts, and you wish it was a choke. “He fought well, got a few of my men. How do you think the lieutenant here lost his eye?” He points at the stoic man using a half eaten chicken leg. “Your father was brilliant with a sword. A crack shot with a blunderbuss too. But, eh, it was all in vain. He shouldn't have messed with the crown and polite society.”
He continues to loudly eat, hands slick with oil, mouth full of meat. “You see, your mother was that fuckin' woman. Wealth, looks, title, she had it all. And the king wanted it too, greedy bastard he is.” There it is, the confession. But you still listen because you know something else will come after. “But your mum decided to run off and elope with the bastard son of an unpopular lord. The king was pissed off.”
Mathias laughs roughly. “But he got over it.”
Your eyes widened, but before you could hide it, the devil noticed.
“I knew you ain't as smart as your dear old dad.” He smiles, you can see the meat stuck in his golden teeth.
“He was the crowned prince,” Mathias rips open the chicken in half messily. “And he needed a wife from one of the big families.” He doused the meat in salt, “and the greedy fuck chose someone who didn't want him, just for the fun of it. Who could blame her, all he ever wanted was a brood of children to pass on his blood.” He takes a generous bite, teeth meeting flesh, the sound of his chewing makes you hasten your plan. “Thank fuck Frederick's father ain't as stupid as his son. That man sought out the opportunity when given to him and fuckin' took it. Too bad he didn't live long enough to see the fruit of his labour.”
Anger settles in your stomach, fury in your eyes and flesh, you want to damn him, and everyone involved. Especially her.
“It's her isn't it?” You say as you slither your hand towards the ceramic bowl. “The Queen, it was all her.”
Mathias smiles genuinely, “You finally got it, little bird!” He claps. “She's fuckin' brilliant, and so are her coffers. The pay,” he whistles out, “the pay was magnificent, still is by the way. I didn't even need to become an admiral for the money when I'm earning more than a fuckin’ duke.” Kicking Eugene under the table, he makes his godson choke on his drink. “See, I told you the little duchess here is just your type.”
His voice fuels your fury. Each vowel is grating in your ears, every wheezed breath he takes is a reminder that he still lives. A reminder that your knife isn't stuck in his throat.
“It ain't as bad as you think it is,” The navy man continues. “Married to my boy, you'd have a title, a home and a decent family. At least now you don't have mister Brown crawling all over you. He'd be dead by sundown, and I can't wait to see it.”
Mathias thinks his words would make you do something drastic that'll have his hands wrapped around your neck. But you've learned your lesson, so you bide your time, taking their attention away from your wandering hands.
“You're dying.” The heat from the bowl matches the fire in you. Your voice doesn't shake, nor your resolve. “Even with all the coin she gave you, you still can't save yourself. You are riddled with sepsis, I can smell it on you. A collapsed lung from the way you cough, and whatever the fuck disgusting shit you have in you. You are dying, rotting from the inside like how it's meant to be. And the world will be better off without you. They will forget you, first, your poor family, then your men, then the entire country. Even your bitch of a queen will forget you. Then the world. But Hobie will be remembered. His name will be etched in the annals of history while your name fades into obscurity.” You laugh humorlessly, teeth bared, eyes aflame. “And I can't wait to see it.”
He seethes in his seat, hand clenching around the cutlery. The devil doesn't show his anger bluntly this time, he hides it because you struck a nerve. With a grin, you promise to Hobie and to your parents that Mathias won't live to see the day end.
“Do you remember what I told you in the revenge?” You continue with a smile that sends shivers down the spine of everyone in the room. The quiet lieutenant remembers the day he lost his eye. “I intend to fulfill that promise.”
Through a clenched jaw, he coughs again, hiding his weakness from everyone in the room and how a drop of blood stains his pale lips. “I love it when women show me their claws. But I can't stay. I would love to see the ceremony and the festivities, but I can't miss the execution. That's why I came here earlier so I could pass on my blessings.” Mathias wipes his mouth clean harshly. “If you'd excuse me, I places to be—”
Before he could stand up, you quickly fling the bowl right on his painted face. The hot soup splashes on his skin, melting the white powder off his face. With his guttural scream, within a split second before his man could intervene, you take the steak knife and plunge it into his hand and into the table.
The screams he let out was music to your ears, holding the hilt of the weapon, you twist it before yanking it out of his flesh, tearing his hand in half, ripping the nerves and letting waterfalls of crimson into the white tablecloth. With a determined yell, you aim for his throat.
Mathias recovers a second before steel meets his skin, he backhands you with the same injured hand. The knife falls off your hand. Pain blooms on your face, and you go blind as your head hits the floor. His blood dirties your pristine white gown, splotches of red drenching the bodice.
Your left eye stings, cheek heated from the harsh slap. Despite your lungs gasping for air through your possible broken nose, you crawl over to Mathias. Your scorn drives you to grab his leg, pulling him down with a strong tug, he falls hard on his back, splitting the floorboards in half. Taking the crown off your head, you use the pointy end to stab his leg and his knee in quick succession. He yells and yells but you don't stop. The ichor from his wounds drenches your face and hands, you see red, and you see his untimely death in your blood soaked hands.
Climbing further up, you use the opportunity to aim at his groin. But a pair of arms stops you before you could hit your mark. Thrashing, slashing the hands around your shoulders, you mark the man with the same bloodied tiara.
“Fuckin’ bitch!” Mathias stands up, limping, he unsheathes his lieutenant’s cutlass from his hip. With a stomp over your thigh, he pushes in the heel of his boot as you let out a cry. The steel is pointed at your heart, his eyes demand blood for blood. “I should've just killed you instead—”
A shot rings out, the bullet hits the blade, breaking it in half. Mathias flinches before he smiles at the one who shot him. There on the opposite doors, stands Miguel O’hara with his gun raised, barrel aimed at his former comrade. Lyla stands next to him, her own blunderbuss raised towards the man holding on to you.
“Let her go and there won't be any more bullets flying around.” Miguel's voice is steady, back straight, eyes flicking over to you writhing on the floor.
“You better listen, cyclops, O’hara here might hesitate but I won't. Let our girl go.” Lyla reassures you with a nod, and you bite your captor's hand.
You tear his flesh open with your teeth, ichor filling your mouth as he hisses in pain, dropping you unceremoniously on the floor.
Mathias looks at you with wide eyes, disbelief in his burned face. “I guess you learned a thing or two from your man.”
You spit out the chunk of flesh whilst your eyes never leave his. Crimson dripping off your lips like rain, teeth the same colour as the wine spilled on the table, you smile at him.
“Come near me and I'll show you what else he taught me.”
The man before you laughs genuinely, yet his eyes never leave yours, making sure you stay away from him. You're more than ready to close the gap. The cutlass is still trained on you, you're about to pounce when Miguel calls your name with urgency. As if he can read your mind.
“Your girl is fuckin' insane ain't she?” Mathias addresses Miguel, like how a family member speaks about a niece he hasn't seen in years. Proud, there's a sense of pride laced in his tone. “Just like her dear old parents, eh?”
“I'm warning you, Mathias.” Miguel keeps an eye out for the uniformed man behind you. “Take your captain, Alexander, before I put a bullet in his heart.”
Mathias scoffs, legs shaking from the wounds you caused. “Please, you'd shoot me? You didn't have the balls back then, why would you do it now?”
Miguel raises his gun higher, aiming for the man's head. “Because she wasn't there,” he cocks his head towards you, “you didn't have a weapon aimed directly at my goddaughter.” Eyebrows knitted together in anger, his hand doesn't shake, eyes glowing red in the sunlight. “Now let her go.”
Mathias posture sags, “fine, but only because I've got an event I cannot miss.” He nods at his godson. “Make sure you're married to her by the end of the day or there will be consequences.” He clicks his tongue, Eugene melts into his chair, face turned away from you and his godfather.
Mathias gives you one last look. “Happy marriage, birdy.”
“You're going to die today Mathias, one way or another I'll get my hands on you.” You flick your eyes towards the man clutching his hand. “Death is coming for you too,” you say nonchalantly. “I'll finish what my father started.”
They leave with their fronts turned to you, not even twisting around to show you their backs that are susceptible to your attack. Or in this case, your teeth.
Lyla appears next to you, helping you by the crook of your arm. Pain lingers on your leg and face. “Christ, he burst your fucking capillaries.”
Sure enough, you feel the sting in your eye, a throbbing pain that leaves you nauseous. Miguel, tentatively closes the distance, weathered hand carefully holding your chin. You wince, as he moves your face.
“Fuck, you need to see a doctor.” He says whilst you flinch away from his touch.
“I'm alright, I need a horse.” You begin to walk away, Miguel and Lyla follow close behind you. “And I need my fucking knife.” I need him back, your mind whispers to you. “I need to save him.”
“His execution is in two hours.” Eugene says meekly, and you stop in your tracks. “I heard the officers talk, they're not going to hang him for his crimes, the crown gave him the ax.”
With quick steps, you take Eugene by his collar, gripping tightly as you spill venom. Miguel tries to hold you back but you blindly kick his leg.
“Delay them.”
“I can't—”
“Do you want to be under his boot your entire life? If we marry I'll be crushed with you,” You stare determinedly at his scared eyes. “because that will happen if you don't help. You said you cared about me, then help me and all will be forgiven. Please, you're a viscount, you have the means to help.”
He sniffs, lips curled into a frown. “I'm sorry, I-I can't—”
You scoff, letting him go. “If I fail, Mathias lives and that means you'd be dead too.” Walking away, leaving him cowering in his seat, your small entourage follows.
“Where are you going?” Miguel matches your stride, walking next to you, he stares with concern. “Y/N, where are you going?”
“To my room to pamper my nose.” With adrenaline coursing through you, his face flashes in your mind with every step. Save him, your mind yells, save him, save him, or it'll be the end for you too.
“Cousin?” Collette asks as you make your way towards the apartments where your chambers lie. She roams her worried eyes around your bloodied wedding gown, her hands that are clutching a bouquet of flowers shakes. “Are you hurt? What happened?”
“I stabbed Mathias and bit through a man's hand.” You say without stopping, she squeaks in place.
John stops in his tracks, “w-what the fuck happened?” The twins are both dressed to the nines, all fine fabrics and hair all made up. “Cousin!” He calls after you whilst you don't stop for anyone.
“Thanks for the hot tip, kids!” Lyla yells back to your cousins. “A bit of advice, tell the catering staff the wedding’s off!” She cackles. “Save me a macaroon though!”
“They called you?” You ask, your heeled feet ache but you press on. “Where were you Lyla?”
“I'm sorry, duchess, I overslept.” She shrugs. “But I'm here now ain't I? Also I got Miguel here so...”
“You should stop, Y/N.” Miguel says sternly. “You're hurt—”
“No.”
“Y/N.”
You whirl around to face him. Anger flares up once again. “You should've shot him where he stood.” You poke his sturdy chest roughly. “He's the one who killed them, yet you let him get away!”
“I know, I— there are repercussions to killing someone. Especially if they're an officer.” He falters but he composes himself. “Revenge is not the answer—”
“He killed them, Miguel!” Your broken voice echoes out into the vast hallway. “Him and the queen are the reason why they're dead, and you let him get away so he could kill Hobie.”
“It was the queen? Not—”
“Yes, not the idiot king.” You turn around to continue your trek. You curse the large estate. “I have no idea why she did it, but I'm gonna get her too. But I won't live to see that day if I don't save him.” Your tone falters as you pass by your mother's portrait. “I need to save him, even if it's the last thing I do.”
“You won't succeed.” Miguel stands in front of you to stop you, and you roll your eyes, wanting to kick him in the groin. “He's a pirate, Y/N, he won't do the same for you.”
“He has, and he would. I need to try, I can't let him die.” You choke back a sob. Reality crashes around you. What would you do once you get there? Will you be able to save him on your own? You have no one, you have no idea where the crew is, and he's going to die. You can't live with yourself if you don't try.
“Y/N.” Miguel says your name like a reprimand.
“You said back in the carriage that I can leave whenever I want, all I needed to do was ask.” You chuckle without humour. “Here’s me asking, Miguel.”
“You'll die, Y/N, I can't lose you too.”
“And I can't lose him.” Tears gather in your eyes. “If no one will save him then who will? I have to go whether you like it or not.”
“The people will,” Lyla pipes up, she casually leans against the wall, checking her nails. “there have been…whispers since they announced his execution. If you go, I'm sure you won't be alone.”
You face the taller man again. “See, I have help—”
“Rumours aren't enough! Don't you get it? You're better off marrying Thompson at this point.” You blink in surprise. He backtracks. “I–I didn't mean it that way, I meant, I'd rather see you settled than dead.”
“You might not be as bad as Mathias, but you might as well be.” You brokenly say. Miguel's face falls at your words. “You claim to love my parents and me by extension, but you're complicit,” you spit out the word full of venom. “you're only helping them by not letting me go. I don't want to be settled, Miguel.” You shake your head. “It isn't love if you make me.”
Miguel visibly shatters in front of you. None of the composure he showed to Mathias is left in his body. He hasn't seen this much devotion since your parents. He hasn't seen this much love since he felt their presence. He hasn't felt this hurt since his daughter left this world.
“You had time to grieve for them, I didn't.” You push him out of the way, controlling your sob. “Please don't stop me, or I'll fight you like how I fought Mathias.” You open the doors to your chambers.
Miguel lingers outside as you and Lyla make your way inside the familiar room. The man that has your dagger sits in front of the vanity, the large man is currently trying on a spare tiara, and is wearing one of the ruby earrings.
“You can keep those,” Your sudden voice makes him jump away, large eyes staring at you with slight embarrassment. “I won't tell a soul, just take them, give me my dagger and get out of Hazelside.”
The cogs in his head move, swallowing thickly, he nods curtly. “Can I keep the necklace too?” He asks gruffly.
“Sure,” You shrug, Lyla stifled a giggle.
Wordlessly, he shoves a ruby necklace in his pocket, then he unsheathes your dagger and places it on the vanity.
“We good, duchess?”
“Actually,” you have an idea. “You're a muscle for hire, correct?” You've noticed how he doesn't move like the other foot soldiers do, or the guards for Hazelside. His disheveled uniform solidifies your theory. The man nods proudly. “How would you like to take my entire jewelry box in exchange for you and your men's services?”
“That depends, what kind of work are we talkin’ ‘bout?”
Lyla adds to the conversation. “Murder of some pompous nobles and free a bunch of pirates. With a main focus on the red spider of course.”
“Kill the red spider too?” He asks, a thick eyebrow raised.
“No!” You say quickly, “free him and kill anyone who stands in the way.” You mutter a curse under your breath. “I don't have time for this.”
The mercenary thinks once again, he seems to be weighing the pros and cons.
Stepping closer, you practically breathe down his neck. “I'll throw in my shoes and gowns too,” you raise a hand for him to shake. “As long as you'll be there before the execution starts, and you keep my uncle and aunt distracted, scare them is all. Just don't touch my cousins or the staff.”
The scarred man chuckles deeply. “An offer I cannot refuse, duchess.” He clasps your hand, shaking it once. “Creating chaos is our main specialty.”
“Yes and I saw a glimpse of that in the barn.” You give him a tight-lipped smile, eyes lit with tamped down anger. “You better hold your end of the bargain, or you'll have my dagger in your throat instead of my necklace.”
“‘course, my lady. My men will be there.” He leaves with a grin, shoving Miguel by his shoulder.
“What just happened?” Your godfather asks as you lift your skirt to rip the metal of your petticoat off using the dagger. He turns around, closing the doors to your chambers and shuts his eyes while still turned around.
“Our girl here just used her charisma to strike a bargain. Oh they grow up too fast.” Lyla dramatically wipes a nonexistent tear in her eye. “Don't forget to change your shoes, my lady.”
You stare at yourself in the vanity, blood coats the front of your gown, a smattering of crimson coats the lace, splashes of ichor paints the front of the bodice right next to the pretty embroidery. Your face isn't any better, the makeup the handmaidens painted you with is still there, but now it coincides with Mathias' drying blood. It drips down from your cheeks down to your neck, it hides the gold underneath the crimson. Your left eye shares the same shade, capillaries burst, spreading your blood into the whites of your eyes. The gloves meant to hide the callouses and fresh scars are sticking to your skin, drenched in ruby, drenched like the floors of the revenge.
You leave it on, a reminder of your goal.
“I haven't forgotten.” Tossing the heeled shoes away, you make your way towards where you hid your old friend.
The sight alone of the weathered leather shoes would make you weep but you don't have time for that. Lifting your skirts up, still wearing the ridiculous wedding gown that has become significantly lighter, you quickly run towards the unicorn tapestry.
Dagger in hand, you're surprised to hear Miguel's heavy strides following you inside the hidden tunnels. Once the sun greets you and the grass crunches under your feet, you beeline for the barn.
A stable boy jumps at the sudden intrusion, he stutters, moreso when he sees your blood drenched form.
“Can you saddle Bernard quickly?” You ask, and the poor boy almost has a heart attack. “Please? I'm a friend of Hobie and—”
“Oh, Hobie! You should've said it earlier then. You're her! He told me a whole lot about you." He smiles at you, already picking up the heavy saddle. "You know how to ride, My lady?"
“No need for that.” You wave away the title. “And yes, perks of running away for years, you learn how to run away in different ways.”
He chuckles, yet the nervousness is still palpable in his eyes. “I'm on it, your grace.”
Smiling softly, you don't correct him anymore. Turning around, you see no one accompanying you. “Lyla?”
“She went off to get her horse,” Miguel appears from behind the barn door. “I'm keeping a lookout.” He returns to his post, acting casual while leaning on the door.
“You don't have to be here if you don't want to, Miguel.” You walk behind him, the wooden doors are blocking you from his view and vice versa.
“I…pondered your words, Y/N, and you're right. I don't want to make you do something you clearly don't want. I won't make that same mistake again, it cost me years without you. It won't make me lose another day without you, even if it means saving a damn pirate.” He chuckles, and you take his hand from where you stood. You hear his breath hitch, “I'm sorry. I think your parents would hate me right now.”
“I don't know them very well but, I think they'll be proud of you. You found me, you brought me home. You were doing the best you can with good intentions.” You squeeze his rough hand, placing your forehead against the door where his shoulders would lie. “Thank you for letting me leave. I think it's best for you to move on, uncle. They'd want that for you.” You hear him sniff, squeezing your hand back.
“Yes, I think it's best.” He lets your hand go, “starting with this,” Placing something round in your hand, he closes your palm around it gently. “They’d want you to have it, something to keep close to you when you're at sea. It helped me back then, I'm sure it'll help you now.”
“You're not coming with me?”
“Not yet, I'll follow you once I can. I'll keep your aunt and uncle here, making sure that they don't get their footmen to follow you. And I'll make sure the ruffians you hired won't go overboard and actually do what you asked them to.” Miguel tearfully chuckles, “just promise me you won't lose your humanity after you take your revenge.”
“I promise, I won't let it consume me.” You whisper your promise just for him.
Taking a peek at the object in your hand, your heart almost shatters at the familiarity of it. It's the same one your mother was clutching in her portrait. Opening the golden locket, you see a portrait of your mother on the left, and on the right, your father. They look younger in the painting, happier, more alive. They were right, you bear a resemblance to your father just as much as to your mother's features. You finally got a good look at them together, and your heart squeezes at the thought.
Sniffing, you look up at Miguel with gratitude, “tell my cousins ‘thank you,’ please.”
“I will. Keep the locket safe for when we meet again?”
“I will, I'll see you in the water, uncle.” He's the only person who's worthy of the title you've bestowed him. Lyla gallops her horse in the distance. “Now get out of here, or I'll end up not letting you go.” You tease, it has half truth in it. Your smile falters, "Tell my mother—"
“Come back and you can tell her yourself. She's still staying in the same town. I know she's waiting for you.” He finally turns around to face you. “Before you go,” shrugging off his coat, he hands it to you. “You'll get cold.”
You look at the fabric with tears in your eyes. Taking the blue coat, he helps you put it on. Sniffing, he turns you back around, rubbing the creases in the sleeves away.
“There, it's perfect but it's missing something.”
“Something blue, and now I've got something borrowed.” Joking, you smile at your godfather.
Miguel hands you a blunderbuss, it's an ordinary looking one, save for the purple leather handle that decorates it.
“It was your father's, he gave it to me when he named me your godfather.” He points at the silver barrel where three letters are etched on it crudely. “It's our first initials. He said that it gave him extra luck.”
“I—I can't take this.”
“Well, you've already taken my locket and coat, what harm falls on me if I gave you his gun? You're gonna need it wherever you're going.” Miguel shoves it in your hands, “just— save a bullet for Mathias and the queen.”
“That I can do.” You grin at him despite the pain in your chest.
“The party's here.” Lyla’ horse stops just outside, she exclaims with fanfare. “Ready to kill some motherfuckers?”
“Aye,” you nod with determination. The fire is blazing under your eyes, lightning in your fingertips, you wear the locket around your neck with pride.
For your parents that you've never met but came to love. For Miguel, for the crew and for all they've sacrificed for you. for Hobie, the love of your life. And for MJ.
You ride off on Bernard's back, flames in your chest, wind whipped cheeks, and hands clutching the reins tighter. Your father's blunderbuss weighs heavy on your hips, the smell of Mathias' drying blood stings in your nose. But the putrid smell keeps you awake, a reminder of your goal, a reminder of what truly matters— Hobie. Your love that is currently in shackles, hands bound tighter than the rope around his neck.
Lyla snaps you awake, her own horse huffing from the intense speed.
“Your eyes keep glossing over, duchess, keep ‘em clear for me, yeah?” She yells above the loud hoofbeats.
“I will, are you sure about your plan?”
“My guild consists of a bunch of sacks of shits that'll do anything for a quick coin.” You knit your eyebrows in worry. “But they're loyal to a fault, ‘sides, your captain used to be one of us, once upon a time.”
“What?” You spot the capital's sign, entering the city without stopping. There's a fork in the road as you ride towards the center of the city. The familiar smell of the sea fills you as you ride closer and closer to your destination.
“A story for another day, gorgeous.” She rides faster, her guns clinking against the saddle. “I'll ride ahead, gather as many as I can. Go to him, and disrupt the festivities.” Her voice fades as she hurries off.
Lyla heads towards the left whilst you ride on the right, trying to remember the directions she told you during the short ride.
Numerous buildings whizz by you as you ride faster and faster. Rickety stone buildings turn into elegant carved marble. The streets become smoother as you get closer to the palace. You heard the crowd before you saw them.
Bernard stops in his tracks, right at the edge of the thousands of people clambering to see the execution. He whines as you try to calm him down. Some of the common people are quiet, eyes straight towards the stage where a large man with a black hood stands. The scraping of the ax getting sharpened makes your heart stop.
The palace looms overhead, its golden terrace holds the royals, faces smug, wigs high as they look down at the crowd. Right next to them stands Mathias, hand hastily bandaged, still dripping in blood. His face contorts into pain as he clutches at his injury. You draw your father's gun out, resisting the urge to shoot at the man, but with how far you are, you know you'll miss.
Scanning the stage, you bite your tongue, preventing a pained whimper from getting out.
You've made it, and he has too.
Clad in a white undershirt with the sleeves too big for his frame, trousers too short for his legs, hands tied behind his back, face beaten. Hobie stands with his back straight despite all the red gashes under his thin shirt.
You whisper his name like he can hear you above the yells of the people. You're frozen, hands shaking, eyes unblinking at his form.
The uniformed men make him kneel, his knees slam harshly against wooden floors.
Hobie was never afraid of dying before, he avoided it a hundred times. Yet, his binded hands quiver, dull grey eyes scanning around the crowd, he tries to find familiar faces amidst all the strangers. Trying to find his crew, not for help, but the thought of dying in front of them fills him with sorrow. He doesn't see them, and he's glad. Moreso when he doesn't see your face, he doesn't want you to experience what he had seen before.
But there's a part of him that wants to see you for one last time before steel kisses his neck. He wants to feel your lips against his again, but for now, having the memory of it is enough. The pearl you gave him is cold against his chest, he wishes to hold it again.
Having you in his arms however brief is enough for him, he'll think of you when the blade strikes him down for the last time.
Even with his imminent death, he still finds the will to smile, the same smile you love so much. It's enough to snap you awake.
A navy officer yells above the crowd, scroll in hand, voice booming and commanding. “Here stands the notorious pirate Hobart Brown, he stands here waiting for his sentence. The crimes he has committed are atrocious enough that the crown has automatically given him the guilty verdict!” The people don't cheer, some even boo and hiss at the man. You inhale deeply, hand holding on to the reigns tighter, as you weave Bernard through the crowd. Surprisingly, they part for you.
“What say you, Hobart Brown?”
Hobie chuckles deeply, lips split and bloodied, he grins. “It's captain, actually!” His voice drives you to ride faster, gun raised. He twists around to look at the nobles in their high tower. “It's captain Hobie Brown, you fuckin' wankers!” Cackling, the officer kicks him down. He falls, gasping, neck landing harshly at the stone slab that still has remnants of its last guest.
Still, Hobie yells obscenities, “you haven't won! You might cut my head but two more will replace me! Just like how I replaced the emerald bastard from the south!” He tries to sit up but another man holds him down. “They'll be stronger and better than me! From my death, the people will gather at your gates and break your golden walls!”
The executioner raises his large ax, the sun bouncing off the metal.
Hobie quiets down at the glimmer of the ax shining in his eyes. Whispering the names of his loyal crew, then he softly calls for you like an acolyte prays for forgiveness.
The crowd parts for you like the sea parts for a sailing ship. Giddying up, hooves hitting loudly against stone, you aim.
It's the end, but it doesn't have to be.
“Hobie!” You scream as loud as you can before you shoot.
He blinks in surprise for a second, the man holding him down scampers away as a shot rings out. Now free, Hobie quickly moves away from the stone slab as your bullet hits the executioner's hood right in-between his eyes.
Gasping, the ax falls next to Hobie's head with a thud. The edge is embedded in the wood, missing his face just a few inches away. Eyes staring at the clear sky, he thinks he has died when your face suddenly appears in front of him.
“Scuttlebutt,” he softly says in disbelief.
“Hi, captain, I'm here to rescue you.” You smile at him, “hold on a minute.” Sitting up right, you shoot at the remaining officer. A body thuds, and you return to his side. “I've got you.” You say as you help him sit up, hands already untying his bonds.
Hobie looks at you like a sailor looks at the sea for the first time, with reverence, and awed by the sheer beauty. “You've got me.”
Ropes falling off his aching wrists, he moves to hold your face desperately. Without a second thought, he kisses you fervently. Life spreads back to him, fingertips electric as he holds your face close. Lips warm, you kiss back like it's just you and him. Hands instinctively sliding to his head, you pull away when you feel scruff under your palm.
“What did they do to your hair?!” You almost weep, hands roaming across his bare head. “Oh my god, they have to pay for this.”
Hobie laughs, still holding your face like holding on to a precious pearl. “It'll grow back.” Tears prick your eyes, mirroring his own. “I love you, you did good, scuttlebutt.”
“I did good?” You peck his chapped lips once more.
“Yeah, love.” He prevents you from looking at the military that has their weapons raised and their eyes targeting you and him. “You did very well—” tears escape his grey eyes when he hears the familiar click of a gun.
It's the end.
“I love you too,” you know it's the end. “I'll see you back at the revenge?”
“Save some of Finn's bread for me, yeah?” Hobie leans his forehead atop yours. “I'm sorry.” His voice falters.
“Don't be, I'm glad I fell in that net.” You hold on to him for dear life. Etching his warmth in your brain so you remember it until you're cold. “I'd run towards that dock all over again if I had the chance again.”
It's the end, and you hold him close.
As you embrace each other, as your love is displayed for all to see, your warmth radiates through the crowd. You burn together with him.
Fire consumes and burns but it also lights the way.
The silence wraps around the city center, then, someone yells, pushing off the officer who has his gun aimed at your head. The people follow, rioting against their oppressors.
You both stare below in disbelief, hand cradling your head, he shields your eyes from seeing the violence unfold. Just when bullets hit flesh, and knives slash at necks, an explosion booms above.
Hobie holds onto you tighter, battered arms wrapped around you protectively as debris and smoke fills the whole place. The building across the palace is in flames, and from the billowing ashes out comes a familiar face.
Gwen takes off her hood, feet precariously standing on the ledge, then another form comes out of the smoke, Miles takes his stance next to the first mate, handing her a long rope.
“Holy shit! It's them!” Hobie exclaims, letting you see them with your own eyes.
You grin as you spot them above, “it's them,” you say in shock. A second later, they jump off the building effortlessly, guns raised as they land on their feet right next to the stage.
“I'll cover you!” Miles yells above the chaos as more and more buildings around the palace erupt in a chorus of explosions.
Gwen clambers next to you, relief on her face, hugging the two of you. Embracing back, she leans away to stare at you and her captain.
“You fucking idiots! I'd slap you over the head if I didn't love you both.”
“We love you too, Gwendy.” Hobie smiles amidst the aches.
“What he said, Gwendy.” You beam at her with overwhelming love.
“Love you too, now we need to get you out of here.”
“I have a ship docked somewhere, it's called the osprey. Take it and—” You start but Hobie and Gwen interrupt.
“You make it sound like you're not comin’ with us.”
“Y/N,” Gwen warns as she helps you two on your feet.
“I’m coming with—” a gun goes off.
Blood splatters across your faces. Crimson blooms across Gwen's stomach.
“...oh” she looks at you with her eyebrows knitted together, hand pressing on her belly. You catch Gwen in your arms as you feel the fear in you spread. She calls your name weakly.
Hobie stares at you with terrified eyes as he clutches the back of Gwen's head.
“No, no, don't speak—just… oh fuck!” You try to stop the bleeding by ripping a part of your gown to stuff it inside her wound. Ichor spills out of her like waterfalls. “I've got you!” She yells in pain and you simultaneously hear Miles scream.
Flicking your tear filled eyes over to Miles, he has his back on the ground, face contorted into pain whilst Mathias has his boot on his shooting hand. Miles still fights, kicking and scratching at the man's leg.
“This is what happens when you disrupt—” Red appears on his side as Hobie uses your fallen gun to shoot him where he has his foot crushing atop Miles’ hand. Mathias yelps in pain, a throaty sound escaping from his pale lips.
Hobie is filled with rage, embers flickering in him, turning into flames and then a blaze that burns his insides into ash.
Miles coughs as Mathias runs away towards the enormous church right next to the palace. He pushes away people, blood trailing behind him.
“Miles!” You yell, in your relief, he stands back up, weaving around people to clamber up the steps of the stage.
“I'm here!” He crawls over to Gwen, gently clutching her pale face. “Oh god no, please,” Miles looks at you. “Fix her, please.” Tears slide down his cheeks. “Please.”
You look towards Hobie, not knowing what to do, but said man is nowhere to be found. You briefly spot him running around the crowd, cutting down coppers swiftly with your father's gun and a stray cutlass, following after the man who has shot at his family.
Not again, you think, hands drenched once again in crimson. Not again, not again. You've failed once again.
Someone calls next to you, familiar hands holding yours.
“Tell us what to do.” Yuri thaws you out from your frozen state. Gwen gurgles, grip around your wrist weakening. James appears next to Yuri as you see in your peripheral the same mercenary and his men shooting at soldiers. Lyla cackles near them, adding her guild to the mix in the chaos. “Y/N,” Yuri calls again sternly. “We need you.”
With a sniff, you compose yourself, for Gwen. “Keep your hands on her wound, pack it with cloth then keep pushing.” Gwen groans, you look at her apologetically. “I know it hurts, I'm sorry but we need to do this. Let us do this.”
“I saw a doctor's clinic near here.” James pipes up, “if we take her there will you be able to save her?”
“Yes, we need to—”
Pavitr runs towards the group, guns raised, eyes full of rage once he sees Gwen. “No…” he says weakly. He fixes his composure, for Gwen. “James and I will cover you while the three of you carry Gwen.” He instructs, voice steady.
“No, no, no!” Gwen protests. “It hurts— I can't—”
“You can!” Miles beats you to it. “D’you remember what I told you when we realized Y/N and Hobie weren't behind us after we got attacked?” She nods weakly, lips bitten to stop her pained whimpers. “I meant it, Gwen. I meant all of it yet I haven't shown it because I'm a goddamn coward. Let me show you how much I love you, but I can't do that if you don't let us carry you. So please, let us carry you.”
Gwen smiles, icy eyes staring fondly at Miles. They have a wordless conversation, then Miles gives her a gentle peck on her forehead.
“As long as the d-doc here follows our captain.” She says.
“What—? No, you need me.” You shake your head.
“We already know what to do,” she winces, “you're the only person that can stop him, he'll die, Y/N. Meanwhile I've got a chance with them beside me. And he's all alone.”
You look at the others, they all nod and you blink in surprise. “But—”
“We have her, wifey.” Yuri smiles kindly at you. “This isn't our first bullet wound. Go and fetch our captain for us would ya?”
You have no time to think about it, so you choose what they instructed you to do. “Keep your hands on her and support her back—” your eyes find the familiar large man wearing your rubies. “Oi!” He pauses from crushing a soldier's arm. “Get a handful of your men and help them get to the doctor's!”
“Do I have to?” He asks, shrugging.
“Yes! I paid you!”
The man sighs then he gestures to a few of his people to climb up the stage. Before you let go of Gwen, you stare daggers at the men in the fake uniforms. “Keep all of them alive and I might just give you a piece of Hazelside.”
“Say no more, duchess, we got ‘em.”
“Gwen—” You take one last look over to her.
“Go, I don't plan on dying today.”
“You better. Meet us back at the ship.” You roam your eyes at the crew like it's the last time you would see them. With a nod towards Yuri, you slide your hands away quickly, Yuri replaces the space you left with her own.
Wordlessly you turn away from them. You fight yourself from looking back. Running away towards Hobie, you hope that it's not too late.
Weaving through the crowd, dodging bullets and swords, you keep your head down and keep your eyes forward at the grand church waiting ahead. The spires are tall and sharp, reminding you of the dragons that rose up from the sea and blocked out the moon. Gargoyles decorate the roofs, all stone and eyes large, mouths agape, unmoving.
You lift the skirt of your tattered gown, it might be covered in blood but the white colour of it is a stark contrast to the dark chaos surrounding you. It acts as a beacon to the people as they see you in their ranks, a noble in their eyes that bears gold and silver around her neck and sleeves. Someone who fought everyone just to get to her pirate captain, they find it in themselves to continue fighting. A few even helps you get to your destination by blocking any guards or soldiers from laying their hands on you.
Smoke in your lungs, steel clanging against steel. Blades slashing at limbs, people screaming in all directions, both with rank and without, they all end up in the same fate. You run through the blood soaked field.
Feet sprinting across the field, people are few and far in between once you get nearer and nearer towards the church. Hands on the large doors, you push the heavy oak to no avail. It's locked, the evidence of it is the rattling noise it makes as you shake it in desperation.
Hobie's in there, and you'd do anything to get to him.
You go around the structure to find a window that's big enough for you to slither into. But all the stained glass windows are too high up for you to reach even if you try to break one. Losing hope, you turn a corner towards the back. You finally breathe when you see a wooden door. Without wasting time, you push it open with your shoulder, shoving it, the rust covered hinges creak with your strength. And finally, it bursts open with one final push.
The sight alone made you stop in your tracks. Clutching your dagger, a finely dressed man lays dead in a pool of blood. A sword embedded in his back, a cracked crown sitting next to his bloodied head. The person standing over the king is none other than his own wife, her face isn't one of sadness but of sheer happiness as she grins at her husband's dead body. Blood dripping off her royal hands, she lifts her head to gaze upon you.
“Hello, little bird, you finally made it.” Caroline stands in front of the altar, the kaleidoscope of lights from the glass windows acts as her spotlight. Her gown is in rich velvet, furs covering her shoulder. And a large tiara on top of her intricate powdered wig.
“You killed him.” Gripping your dagger tighter, you stay away from the bloody queen.
“I did,” Caroline giggles, a sound that sends shivers through your spine. “You look marvelous in your wedding gown by the way. A shame that you didn't get married to that fine young man.” Her voice echoes around the large church, its ceilings are high and painted with saints. They look down at you, eyes lifeless. “Lieutenant.” She calls and the man answers, coming out of the shadows and into the pews. “Do me a favour and kill her for me.”
The disheveled man walks over to you, hand still decorated by your bite.
“Why don't you kill me yourself? Like how you killed your husband.” You address the woman, taunting her.
The queen raises a hand and the navy man stops immediately. She smiles and takes the sword out of her husband's body with ease, then she steps over his body without remorse.
“With pleasure.” She unclasps her cloak, the heavy cloth thuds against the marble. “If I couldn't kill your mother personally, I'd settle for killing you instead.”
“What the fuck—!” The queen arches her sword, thankfully you parry it with your dagger. You know you'll lose in the duel with your smaller weapon against hers and her swordsmanship. A yell echoes from above, a distinct scream from who you hope is from Mathias.
“I wasn't lying when I said you remind me of her!” She slashes, right foot pointed towards you, dodging the sharp edge, the heels of your feet hit a pew, then you fall backwards, back and elbows hitting the hardwood. “But she wasn't much of a fighter just like you!” Her eyes are ablaze as you scramble away.
“Why are you doing this?!” Your voice carries off around the church. “You said you were friends!”
Raising your dagger to shield your face when she tries to slash at your chest, she stands atop you, knee right next to your thigh, leg perching her up. Steel dangerously close to your face, wrists aching from her push, you take your free hand to grip the sharp edge of your dagger to combat her own strength. You feel the knife dig into your palm.
“Why?” The queen cackles, leaning her mad face close. “Because she's the reason why I'm here, she's the reason why that man has ruined me until I couldn't even recognize myself—!”
Lifting your legs, bending your knees, you kick her right in her chest. Making her lose her balance, face falling flat on the marble floors. You take the opportunity to crawl and stand up, sprinting away from her. As you bolt off towards the altar, and towards the door to the bell tower, the stairs are within your reach, but Caroline yanks you by your skirt. You fall off the steps of the altar, body and dagger sliding off the smooth marble.
Groaning, she points her weapon towards your neck, taking your mother's necklace by her blade. “Why did you kill them? For revenge?” You ask, vision blurring from the way your head hit the floor. Everything aches in you, but you continue to fight.
“No, for the satisfaction of them being dead.” She eyes the golden necklace and you glare at her. “She was meant to take the crown, not me. Instead she ignored her duty and ran off with a bastard, and I was forced to marry that fucking beast!” Her voice booms, the saints above look down at the chaos. “Forced to carry his children, children I never wanted but loved nonetheless. Children that I never saw grow up because they were taken from me the second they came out of me!” Her hand shakes around the sword.
You slyly inch your hand towards your dagger that's only a hair width away from your fingertips. You let her continue as the tears in her eyes fall on your bloodied face.
“I never wanted to be queen, all I've ever wanted was to see the world. Your mother took that away from me, and now her daughter is living my fucking dream! The second I knew you were alive I wanted to wring your fucking neck. To hurt you just like her choices had on me.” She twists her sword so the blunt edge is kissing your neck, torture, she's planning on sawing your head off with the blunt edge. “If she can't pay, I'd settle for making you hurt instead.”
“You want to kill me because of what happened decades ago? You're fucking mad if you think sins are passed from parent to child! I never knew them!” You fight back despite the blade near your neck. “Do you understand that you caused the same pain to me that the king has caused you? Whatever you want to call it, it's still revenge!” Caroline pushes the cutlass closer, so close that you can feel it in your throat, choking you. “You're blaming the wrong people for your misfortune, blame the people who used you, who said yes to his every whim, not the couple who only wanted to marry the one they love!”
“I’m the victim here—!”
“You are, but who points the sword towards the innocent?” She blinks, lips wobbling. “Look at you, Mathias told me you're brilliant, but you never thought this part through, haven't you? What do you think the nobles of the land will do to you the moment they hear of your regicide? Who will they blame? Me, who bears the mark of your cruelty? Or you, who has the king's blood on your golden hands?”
You distract her enough to finally reach the dagger, swiftly, you plunge it to the nearest part of her that you can manage, her thigh. She screams in agony, sword and crown clanging loudly on the floor. The once favoured queen clutches her wound that's gushing blood, seeping out of her velvet dress and spilling over the white marble.
Unexpectedly, she cries as she desperately wraps her skirt around the gushing wound. You clamber up to your feet, eyes flitting over the stoic man when Caroline calls for him to kill you where you stand. He doesn't move from his position near the confessionals.
“Are you gonna fight me too? An eye for an eye?” You ask, hands shaking while you bend down for your crimson drenched dagger.
“No, your father and I are even.” The simple words turn your eyes the same shade as the fluid pooling around the queen.
“You're just gonna stand there?” You ask while Caroline's wails echo around the expansive church.
“I'm waiting for you to leave so I can help her.” He seems to be unbothered. A scream rings out from above, louder than the woman's screams. Alarm bells trigger in your mind. “Sounds like someone needs your help.”
“Don't follow me,” you threaten, knife pointed at him as you slither towards the door. “Don't help your captain.”
“Alexander!” She screams for the lieutenant.
“You're right, he's already dead anyway, not my problem anymore.” His eye follows you, “Good luck, duchess.”
With one look towards the mysterious man, you get a glimpse of him crouching next to the woman, hands casually tamping down the rushing blood. Locking the door behind you, you run once again.
The winding spiral staircase seems to go up forever, hand clutching your dagger, you don't even feel the pain in your ankles anymore. Numbness flashes over you for a second, but you carry on. The walls get smaller and tighter as you go on, the stone scratches your hands, the small windows barely provide any light for you. The sounds of struggle get louder, so you speed off with the last of your strength.
Rushing, you make it to the top where Mathias has his hands wrapped around Hobie's neck, with no ounce of hesitation, you plunge your dagger in the devil's flesh, right in between his clavicle.
With a shriek, Mathias lets go of Hobie. Your captain gasps for air, clutching his neck. You wrap your hands around his shoulders, relief washing over you just from seeing him breathe.
“I have you!” Holding his face, you thank the stars that he holds you back with his warm hands.
Hobie utters your name softly, “You have a habit of savin’ me, eh, scuttlebutt?” He smiles at you even with his left eye swelling, even with his mouth full of ichor.
You grin, getting him back to his feet. “The others are waiting—!” A large hand picks you up, wrapping a thick arm around your waist, the other is holding your own weapon in his cracked knuckles. Your own blade is placed harshly against your throat.
A trickle of blood drips from your flesh, and Hobie has the same look back on the revenge. Terrified, the swirling greys of his eyes are mortified at the scene in front of him.
Mathias still lives despite the laceration on his neck, despite his life rushing off of him in waves. He stands precariously on the edge of the tower, his back against the sea, the waves lapping against the cliffs below. He holds you tight as a noose when the wind rushes from behind.
There's a bout of silence hanging in between, Hobie's breath hitches in his throat at your fearful face.
“Don't—” Hobie's voice is broken, pleading desperately. “Please,” Not again, not again. The words scream at him. Not her, never her. “Take me instead.”
Mathias gurgles a response. “Just like old times, eh?”
As the blade kisses your neck, you could only look at Hobie. The copper bell is hanging behind him, large and magnificent, and he stands there with his hand desperately reaching towards you, his gun holds no bullets, sword lay broken in half near his feet.
It's the end, but he declines for it to end, for your life to end at hands of the same man that ended his old love three years ago.
He thinks fate is cruel, he thinks the fates hate him. He thinks his life is a Greek tragedy that was waiting to be written for the fates’ entertainment. He refuses to give them the ending they wanted.
You know it's the end, but it doesn't have to be the end for him too.
There's no other option, no other hope but, "No more sacrifices." You whisper to him even though you know he couldn't hear you, at the same time, you whisper an apology to him.
Images of the past six months flashes in your mind. Images of the tavern you once called home, images of the ship you still call your home. Images of the people you've come to love, images of your island and the sand in between your toes, and the sun on your back. Images of Hobie smiling down at you, images of him holding you close as you cry in his arms.
Images of you learning to love him.
You love him and all his sharp edges, all his anger and all his warmth. You loved him, and that's all that matters in life. To love someone so wholeheartedly that it burrows into your bones and digs deep into your marrows, never letting go. You loved him, and he's worth it for what you're about to do. To be loved back is a gift that he graciously granted you, you intend to cherish it until your end.
You call his name like the softest of silk wrapped around your tongue. "Hobie," and you smile at him, letting your smile tell him that he wasn't born to be a knife, letting your smile tell him that you love him more than the moon loves the tides.
He whispers back your name, pleading with you, for he knows you more than he knows himself, and he knows what you're about to do.
With a loop of your foot around Mathias' ankle, you pull hard, then you let yourself fall backwards.
“Alis volat propriis” You softly say, prying the knife from Mathias’ hand.
And fly you did.
Fear encapsulates him as you fall, the same fear flows out of you like spring water as you plunge into the dark depths.
Hobie refuses to look, frozen on the spot, unblinking eyes still staring at the space you left. His heart feels like it's about to give out as he says your name over and over again like a mantra.
He's a knife meant to grieve.
Slowly, his feet move for him. Body stiff, he makes it to the ledge. Grief stricken eyes darting below, he lets out a guttural wail that carries on with the wind.
Clutching his broken heart, he falls to his knees. He keeps repeating your name as he stares at the bubbles rising up on the surface, the waves deliver seafoam on the beach below, and with it, hope still clings to him.
“No,” A sob breaks through when you don't emerge a second later. “...no, c'mon scuttlebutt, don't fuckin' leave me.”
Grief rolls over his skin like tiny pinpricks of sorrow puncturing his insides and into his scarred heart. Your face flashes in front of him, and the voice inside him asks, 'will it be bad if you follow?'
“Brown?” A familiar voice calls behind him, Hobie whirls around, grief evident on his face, Miguel already knows what happend. He shakes his bloody head profusely, “where's— where is she?”
Hobie doesn't answer, he turns back towards the sea. Agony filling his very being as he stares below.
“No!” Miguel follows Hobie's eyes. And then he screams for you. He searches for you under the waves.
Hobie lays his head on the wall of the bell tower. A minute, it's been a minute since you fell, yet no sign of a body has floated up. The sky is still calm, the sun still shines, yet, you don't resurface.
He blinks away when he sees fingers reaching amongst the waves. “Did you see that?” Praying, praying to any deity out there that is listening to him, he prays that his mind isn't playing a cruel joke on him.
“What?”
Hobie stands up, taking Miguel's face to turn it towards the waters. Something moves under the seafoam, someone moves under the seafoam.
His heart picks up speed, and he rushes down the stairs. Miguel follows close by, their feet thudding loudly on the stairs. They ignore the various pains in their body, what matters is you, and they intend to get to your side as quickly as possible.
They go through the broken door that Miguel kicked, and they run over a puddle of blood without a body. Sprinting outside, the sea breeze greets them. They don't stop for anyone or anything, even though the palace burns to the ground behind them, even though the heat from the melting golden gates sears their backs. They continue downward towards the path to the beach.
Hobie trips on a rock, Miguel helps him up swiftly.
From the tides, you rise once more.
Heaving from the swim, drenched and sore. You grin at the two men rushing towards you. Like the waves lapping at your feet, relief washes over them.
You raise your arms in time just before Hobie crashes his body to yours. His face finds safety in the crook of your neck. Arms holding you tight and comfortable, he breaths you in, taking a deep shuddering breath. You smell like the sea. He can't believe you're alive, can't believe that you're back in his arms.
“I lost the dagger,” you say against his cheek as you press cold kisses on his skin.
“I'll get you a new one.” Tears flow out of his eyes, he feels like he's dreaming, he feels like fate has finally granted him reprieve. “I’ll get you a hundred more, fuck that, a thousand more if you asked.”
“I just want one.” You chuckle.
“I'll get you one then.” Hobie peels himself off you, fingers roaming your face, the heel of his hand is placed atop your pulse, making sure he didn't fall off the tower himself. “You're alive.” He says breathlessly, “you fuckin' swam!”
“I had a good teacher.” You say as you hold him tenderly. “He's dead, it's over, Hobie.” Salty tears in your lashes, he pulls you in for another hug. Eyes closed, you savour the calmness with the sound of the rushing sea behind you, knowing that Mathias lays beneath its waves with your dagger embedded in his eye. “It's over, and I'm alright.”
Holding your hand towards Miguel who sits on his knees on the sand, eyes glowing with consolation. You flex your hand towards him so he could hold your hand. He stands up, taking it willingly, squeezing once like how he held your parents’ hands once upon a time.
Miguel nods proudly at you, gently pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, he gives you and Hobie space. You mouth a thank you towards the man.
“Shit!” James exclaims, jumping up and down on the docks. “Look at her! She's magnificent!”
“Spell ‘magnificent’, James.” Yuri taunts.
“Don't ruin this for me!” He turns towards you, grinning from ear to ear like a child in a sugar shop. “You're actually giving us this ship?”
“Mm-hmm—” before you could finish nodding, James sprints off towards the fine ship. Yuri winks at you before she follows behind James.
The sun slowly sets, bathing the waters in pink and orange light. James isn't wrong, the ship is magnificent. It's bigger than the black hellion, much bigger. Two crow's nests sit at the highest point of the masts. The body is well maintained, oak still shining in the late afternoon sun. Silver violets and hazelnuts decorate the sides, a reminder of what could've been.
Looking at your new home, you shift your gaze to Hobie, knowing wherever he is, as long as you're with him, you're home.
Your tired eyes flick over the figurehead of an osprey with its wings outstretched around the head of the ship. Hobie taps your head with his own gently.
“It needs some work done.”
You chuckle as you fix your hold on him. Still in your wedding gown, skin still smelling like the sea, you move impossibly closer to him. You're both winded, but Hobie has sustained more injuries than you and needed more help in standing up straight. “Do you think we should change the name?”
“Love,” he turns his head towards you, his smile almost makes you kiss him right there and then. “I think I've got a few ideas, for now let's get the fuck out of here.”
“Alright— wait, where's Gwen?”
“Here, worry much, landlubber?” She asks on her stretcher. Miles, Pavitr and an unknown blond man carry her.
“Well you were shot, Gwendy, I think I have every right to be worried.”
“I'm fine now, can't even feel a thing!” She smiles and you recognize her state.
“I think that's the medication talking.” You eye the stranger, “and who might you be?”
“Oi,” Hobie points at the man. “You better not cause any trouble Stacy.”
You lightly gasp, finally noticing the resemblance.
“Not planning on causing any, captain.” Gwen's father smiles and gives you a curt nod.
“Can we hurry the chit chat?” Miles groans.
“You telling me I'm too heavy, Morales?” Gwen teases but the fatigue must've taken a toll on Miles as he takes it seriously.
“W-what? Of course not!”
“You calling my daughter heavy?” Her father jokes back. They're father and daughter alright.
“No! Let's just get on the ship.” Miles pouts, you send him a smile, wordlessly giving him your thanks. He shakes his head, hiding his grin in reply.
“Pav!” You call after Pavitr, “tea later?”
He beams at you, happiness almost blinding you. “Hell yeah!” Jaunting happily, he practically skips off, to Gwen's protest, who still lays on the gurney, shakes from his little dance.
Miguel taps your shoulder, Hobie lets you go so you could hug the man.
“Room for one more?” He asks while patting your back.
Leaning away, your eyes widen, smile widening. “What!”
“I meant for Lyla, kid.” Miguel laughs, smile lines appearing.
“Oh, you're not coming with us?” Disappointment is evident in your voice.
“No, sorry. Maybe one day. I've got unfinished business” He holds your shoulders, “you better take care or I'll chase you again.”
“Oh god, don't say that!” You giggle whilst he mirrors your smile. “If you're not coming, then you can have this back.” Taking off the locket, you place it in his rough palms. “A reminder of them,” you close his fingers around the gold. “Besides, I already have his gun. You deserve something of theirs too.”
The sun shines in his eyes. “This was Gabriella’s, she gifted it to your mother when she got sick. It's a family heirloom.”
“She was Gabriella's godmother, wasn't she?”
“Yes, and your father was her godfather.”
You tap his hand. “It's back in the right hands then.”
“Thank you,” Miguel sniffs, neck craning towards Hobie who sits on a crate. “And you,” Hobie dramatically points at himself. “Take care of my goddaughter, or I'll come after you again.”
Hobie, smirks, “aye, aye, admiral.” He mocks a salute.
Miguel shoots you a look, “you sure about that one?”
You gaze at Hobie, your Hobie. “I'm sure.” He winks at you and you wink back.
“God, I gotta let you go before I get sick.” You chortle as Miguel hugs you one last time. Pressing a kiss on the crown of your head, he nods once, staring at your face, seeing his friends’ faces in yours, saying goodbye to the three of you. “Be good, I'll see you in the sea.”
“Looking forward to it, uncle. Don't get caught by the coppers.” He lets you go with a laugh, unhitching his horse and then getting on, he rides off.
Lyla suddenly appears from the dust with a big grin on her face, she carries suitcases upon suitcases in her arms. “Where to, captain?” She asks you.
“Not the captain, he is.” You gesture towards Hobie who doesn't even correct Lyla. He just waves at her with a small shrug.
“I thought whoever owned the boat was the captain, anyway! Off to adventure!” She cackles into the sunset, feet thudding loudly as she hurls all her luggage on the ship. You vaguely hear someone yell ‘who the fuck are you?!’
You ignore it for now, how could you not when Hobie stares at you so sweetly that you prefer this than chocolate?
“She's not wrong y’know.” He says whilst you saunter towards him. Stretching his legs, he gives you space to stand in between them.
“Are you planning on giving me your title, captain?” You tease, sliding your hands up and down his arms. His own is wrapped around your middle, staring up at you with endearment.
“You're already a captain,” you raise an eyebrow, tilting your head. He sighs, so full of love for the woman in his arms. “of my heart—”
“I knew you would say that!” You laugh, feeling like the weight off your shoulders has finally turned into dust. And he feels like the fish bone stuck in his throat is finally gone.
Hobie smiles softly at you, heart shaped grey eyes full of life. “Are you sure about this? Stayin’ I mean.”
You squeeze the back of his neck, already missing how his hair would tickle your palms. But you love him even with his scruffy head. He looks handsome with or without it, you'll never tell him or his ego would implode. At least now you get the pleasure of seeing it grow, you can't help but press a sickeningly sweet kiss atop his head.
The sound of the anchors getting lifted up fills your ears so you lean closer for him to hear your words better.
“I'll stay as long as you want me too.”
“Forever then?”
“Forever.” You kiss the tip of his nose. “Until I'm cold, you can't escape me.”
Hobie has a lopsided smile on his lips, grey eyes aglow with affection. “You're still in your white dress,” you raise an eyebrow. “Y’know what that means—” Lifting you up like a bride, he carries you towards the ship as you yelp and giggle in his arms. “Off to our honeymoon then!”
As the sun sets, you set off to new beginnings. You've found where you belong, you've finally found home.
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A/N: And it's done!! Thank you all so much for reading, interacting and genuinely showing your support whether it's by making fanart or sending your thoughts, I'm forever grateful for all of them!! Love you ❤️
Already missing the crew? They'll be back for Between the Devil and the Sea Book 2!! You can check out my ☕ page for a lil sneak peek!
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rexlroze · 2 days
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𝟐 — 𝐃𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Hobie Brown / SpiderPunk x Fem! Reader
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Use of Y/N, No physical description of reader other than mostly height comparison. Swearing, Mention of alcohol, drinking, vomiting, Fluff.
𝑁𝑎𝑣��𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠
𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
A/N: I honestly had to rethink this over and over again so many times even though I was like half way thru the damn chapter so that's why making this took me long, also the fact I have the attention span of a child. I was really not sure about this whole thing cuz it kinda felt too sudden but hopefully, it turned out fine? for me it did tbh but like. *blink* yk? Or maybe it's just because I'm not confident in my fucking writing skills and need validation for every damn step I take<3 But anyways, I made half of the notes for this chapter during math class and the teacher caught me so that too (Spoiler Alert: I got sent to the principal's office :3) but that's besides the point. Also if some of the characters were a little OOC, I'm very sorry- I tried my best to make them as accurate as possible (some inaccurate shit tends to get on my nerve, mostly if it's produced by me) annnnd I need to stop ranting💀. I don't take requests nor do I plan on doing so in the future. Happy reading! 😉
Chapter 2 >>> Chapter 3
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Each Stroke of paint is smooth, filling the wall with a little more color than before. The bristles of the paint brush gently swipes over the wall. Music flowed into your ears and through, making you hum.
The atmosphere was calming, like nothing could ever—
“Whatcha listenin’ to?” A teasing voice appeared beside you making you jump and your shoulder tense up.
Right. You forgot he was still here. Pushing your headphones off, “a song.” You answered flatly, turning away from him, your back facing Hobie as you dipped your paint brush into the thick minty liquid that was within the metal bucket and slid the brush across the wall.
“Really? I'll have to check it out when I get home.”
You scoff at the sarcasm in his tone.
After yesterday, he helped you with a little cleaning. You thought he was probably going to dip and disappear from your life after that so when he returned the next day (today), it did surprise you a little. He's been just hanging around. You don't know why, he doesn't owe you anything. “Why are you helping me again?” You turned to him with a quirked eyebrow.
“Mate, you've asked me that like 4 times already.” 
“And each time, I haven't gotten a proper answer.”
This time, he's the one to scoff. “Is it that bad to want to just help somebody?”
“You're dodging the question again.” You say in a sing-song voice.
He holds his hands up in surrender, “aight aight. I'm just tryna help out a friend of a friend, y'know? Plus. I ain't' hurtin’ anyone, right?”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it means, love.”
You sighed, your arm falling to your side. Your other hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “okay. I'll admit, I'm being a little… douchey.” You say, biting your lip, “But I can't say that I don't appreciate your help, and company.”
“Little's an understatement.” Hobie quipped, snickering to himself which made you throw a side glance in his direction. An innocent smile spread across his face. 
You rolled your eyes turning back to the wall to continue what you were doing. Hobie took it as a sign to pursue his side of the wall.
A small spot was left just at the top of the wall making you push yourself up on your tiptoes, trying to get to the empty white patch on top of the wall.
Hobie, who was distracted by his own work, took a glance at you when he heard a few groans of frustration. Seeing you so frustrated over such a small thing brought a small smirk to his face. He settled his brush down into the paint bucket and made his way to you, your head turning to him when you caught a glimpse of him in the corner of your eye extending his hand, beckoning for you to give him the brush you held.
You raised your eyebrow but gave in, settling the brush into his extended hand, your fingers grazing his palm before you quickly withdrew your hand to your side.
He stepped forward closer to you and the wall, making you step back away, giving him space as he took care of the last white spot on the wall. 
“Thank you,” you gave him a small smile and a nod.
“No problem.” He returned the smile. You two stood there holding eye contact. His eyes were as pretty as they were in the poster. No. Prettier. You thought, why? You didn't know. 
You quickly cleared your throat and looked away to look at your progress the two of you had made whilst he sunk the paint brush back into the depths of the mint paint after filling the small white spot with paint.
The two of you had already completed three walls, the last wall was just about half done. The only other thing left to paint was the closet, you'd get to that later.
“You wanna go get a drink?” Hobie suddenly asked, turning his head towards you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather vest.
You rubbed a hand over your jaw, the thought of a break was very enticing right about now since you'd been busy for about a solid 4-5 hours. You answered after a second or two of silence. “Sure. I could use a little break.”
“Good cuz I know an awesome pub around here.”
“Lead the way.” You said extending your arm towards the door.
The two of you walked side by side, Hobie’s gaze fixed on the rock he kept kicking in front of him during your walk, yours lost in the sky that was split into hues of yellow and pink.
“So, I haven't really seen you around here before.” Hobie suddenly spoke up after his rock companion got left behind, a small pout formed on his face which disappeared as quickly as it appeared when it did but obviously he wasn't going back just to retrieve a rock.
“Just moved here about a few days ago, used to live in York with my parents.” You answered, crossing one of your arms behind your head.
“Hm.” He nodded before silence fell over the two of you again, seems neither of you knew what to say. Your eyes lingered on the sky, watching the purple mixing into the pink and orange.
This time, you decided to break the silence. “So, where are we going?” Your head turned towards him, tilting your head a little.
“It's a surprise.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders.
“It's a bar.”
“Your point?”
“I mean, how ‘exciting’ can a bar really be?” You snorted.
“Depends, you ever been in an underground pub?”
“No— say what now?” You gawked, turning to Hobie with wide eyes who just smirked and lifted his chin. When he didn't continue elaborating further, you decided to poke at the subject. “Wait, c'mon. You gotta tell me more.”
Chuckling, he let out a low whistle. “No, I don't.” 
“You can't just tell me we're going to an underground bar then shut up. Like- what if I get kidnapped or sumn?” You exaggerated, throwing your hands up in the air.
“I'll be right there beside you, love, won't even let anyone lay a hand. Good?” He proposed, playfully tilting his head a little.
“You're torturing me.” You groaned.
“Maybe that's my plan.” He shrugged, flicking invisible lint off his jacket.
“...”
“How do I know you're not the one who's trying to kidnap me?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Doesn't it seem oddly weird you just randomly appear at my parlor, offer me help and now you're taking me to a very secret underground bar.”
As Hobie heard you ramble on, he couldn't help but start to chuckle. His chuckle twisting into a flown blown laugh as you threw a playful punch in his shoulder.
“Tell me. You have trust issues or something?” He chuckled, wiping an unshed tear from his eye. “Just have a little patience. It'll be worth it, I promise. I mean, you can always go back if you’re too paranoid.”
“Hilarious.”
“I'm being serious, I can walk you back right now if you'd like.” He offered, slowing down.
Your lips parted as you thought about it for a quick second before shaking your head. “Nah, no thank you. I'm coming along.”
“Hm, suit yourself.” He shrugged looking back to the front of the street. Your footsteps falling in sync with one another once more.
Silence taking over, punctuated by the honking motorcycles and cars and the birds chirping.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Twelve minutes later, the both of you stood before an abandoned 2 storey office building. It looked like it hadn't been used in decades with its cracked windows which reflected the creamy moonlight. Graffiti turned the concrete structure into a riot of colors, doodles, swear words and penises with overgrown vines that clawed their way up the sides. 
As Hobie strode towards the door, his hand inches away from pushing the door when you suddenly spoke up, “it's in there?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” He said turning his head towards you, “I know it don’ look it but I promise it's on purpose. Keeps the coopers away.”
“Ehh… I don't know. I'm starting to believe the whole “you're trying to kidnap me” thing.” Skepticism traced your voice.
“Oh, c’mon. Just trust me.”
“That's what I'm scared to do.” You scoffed. “This looks like a place where serial killers would stuff their victims in.”
“Dunno, never tried digging around. Two bodies at best?” He analyzed jokingly, covering up his laugh with a cough as he saw you pale a little. 
“You're not funny.”
“Dunno ‘bout that, love.” He snickered. “You comin’?” He didn't wait for you to answer before he disappeared into the building.
You crossed your arms tapping your foot, not wanting to follow him in because of your stubbornness but something about standing alone sent chills down your spine.
I'm gonna kill him. You quickly sprinted into the office-like building following Hobie's direction, running away from something you don't even know.
You find yourself walking behind Hobie who walks up to an elevator across the room. The walls were crumbling, chairs laidon the floor, tables flipped upside down “Why the hell is this place so run down?”
“It's a meeting ground made by the government, basically all the corrupted and secret shit that they wanted no one knowing happened around here but word got out. Eventually punks started graffiting the grounds, protesting, sneaking in and eventually drove them out to who knows where. Started using it as a club and a speakeasy after cuz it was spacious grounds. Coopers don’ blink an eye towards this direction cuz they're bloody cowards.” He casually explains (leaving out the part where he whooped their asses and corrupted all their data with a chip he made as Spider-Punk but you didn't need to know that.) 
He pressed a few buttons which opened up the elevator doors. Wordlessly, he gestured to you to get in.
“And you know this how?” You lifted an eyebrow climbing into the elevator, he followed suit.
When you asked that, it brought a proud smile to Hobie's face, “I was one of the punks.” He answered nonchalantly without glancing at you, the pockets of his leather vest stuffed with his hands. The elevator door slid back together locking the both of you in.
“Of course you were,” you said it like it was one of the most obvious things in the world for which you got a little nudge in the shoulder from his elbow. He pressed a button on a small keypad beside the door making the elevator flow down.
The elevator finally stopped making a small chiming sound after what seemed like minutes but in reality. It had been barely more than 40 seconds. Guess time just slowed down when you're in the presence of awkward silence… or Hobie.
The doors opened up letting bright neon lights seep in and illuminate your face. The ‘bar’ (which looked more like a rave) was more lively than most bars you've gone to. Vibrant blends of pink, blue, and yellow casted over you.
“W'dya think?” A voice shouted over the blasting songs, Hobie's voice. You just stared at him wide eyed, unable to make up a coherent response. “You'll get used to it.” He nudged you before stepping out the elevator, signaling for you to follow him.
You shook yourself out of your daze and promptly caught up with him. You swore to god you've put way too much trust in someone you met a day ago. Maybe not even a complete 24 hours yet but you're too deep in and too stubborn to turn around.
“You come here often then?” You arched an eyebrow in his direction, his gaze straight ahead but he tilted his head a little to meet yours.
“Occasionally. Usually—” He was cut off by someone who called out to him in the crowd. “Yo, it's Hobie everyone!”
People glanced in your (his) direction, waving at him and cheering him on. Said man waves back, winking in the direction of a few gals who probably fainted with how excited they got but you didn't bother checking.
“Mr.Popular, huh?”
“That's one way to put it. I come here to hang out often so I know people.”
“Do you usually take all your girls here?” You suddenly blurted out, heat clawed its way up your neck when you processed what you just had said. He raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress the shit-eating grin that came onto his face. “Shut up, I didn't mean it like that.” You grumbled, turning your head away from him. 
“I didn't say anything,” he shrugged, feigning obliviousness. 
“You implied it.”
“Did I?”
Something about his tone just wanted to make you sink into the floor and become one with the secretundergroundbarraveparty (whatever it was) or maybe punch that stupid smile off his face but you didn't do either. Instead you continued making your way through the crowd with him until you reached a bar. Several drinks lined up on several shelves behind the counter. You could tell that it wasn't just some cheap liquor crap either. It made you wonder where they had gotten it from.
He sat down on one of the stools, locking eyes with you before patting the stool beside him. Before you could say anything, your body moved on its own, settling yourself on the stool. Nobody else was really seated near your guys, most of the people were already drunk and partying.
Hobie leaned back against nothing but the air particles, his eyes resting on you when you stirred a little, turning to face him, “what?” you tilted your head.
“Nothin’, just thinking.” He gave you one of his small smiles before his attention averted to the raven-haired girl that walked through one of the doors that was hidden behind the counter. Her eyes fell on the two of you making them pop open, “are my eyes deceiving me or are those my most favorite people? Y/N, you didn't tell me you were in town!” She beamed.
“Yuri?” Your eyes harmonized hers. “I was gonna surprise you but… wait, what're you doing here?”
“Me? I work here, babe. The real question is what are the two of you doing here, hmm?” Yuri gaped, leaning against the counter. Her arms crossed over it.
“He dragged me into this.” You said pointing your thumb at the man beside you, making him gasp dramatically, “nah nah, I see how it is.” He drawled, turning his head away from you.
“Drama queen.” You accused, punched him in his bicep. The two of you acted like you had known each other for years by now.
“Ooh, you two must be close.” Yuri cooed, tilting her head, her cheek squished up against her hand as she watched the two of you interact.
“We met yesterday,” you scoffed, turning down any further suggestions that she could blurt out.
“Is that supposed to make a difference?” Yuri sassed, wiping a glass mug down with a cloth that was under the counter.
“Yuri.” Your eyebrows knitted together making her smirk, “what? I'm being serious.” She smirked.
“If this is you being serious, I don't wanna know what you being unserious is like.” Yuri snickered, placing two mugs in front of the two of you. Her body twisted around pulling out one of the alcoholic drinks out of the shelf and shaking the bottle before pouring it into your glass. “So darling, how've you been, how's Camden treating you so far?” She asked, pushing the two mugs across the counter towards you too.
“It's been alright. I've been working on my parlor recently. Otherwise… nothing special. Oh, Spider-Punk also saved my brain from spewing out like three days ago so that's something,” You shrugged when you suddenly heard Hobie choke on his drink, his beer going down the wrong pipe making him cough harshly. You and Yuri raise an eyebrow in his direction.
“Bloody hell. Sorry, this- this drink is really strong,” He sputtered, clearing his throat. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, tears stinging his eyes.
“Okay…” Your tone contained skepticism in it, “you good now?” You asked to which he nodded. “Fantastic.”
You nodded, turning back to Yuri. A silence washing over the three of you even with the blast of music and chitter chatter in the back.
Yuri opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it when she heard the door squeak open. A brunette walked through, his face flushed as he stumbled towards the counter. “Hey!”
“Flash!” Yuri squeaked, her eyebrows knitting together. “You're not supposed to drink during your fucking shift!”
“Bloody hell. Chill, mom.” He rolled his eyes, voice awfully slurred leaning his hip against the counter but miserably failing after almost falling.
“Ay,” Hobie lifted his head in a greeting while you sat beside him thinned-lipped.
“Oh my god. Hobie, is that you my man?” Flash exclaimed, throwing his arms out in a hug but unable to reach him due to the counter that separated them so going for a high-wave instead that he missed by a head.
“The one and only,” Hobie snickered, grabbing Flash's wrist and guiding him through the high five properly.
Flash clicked his tongue, turning his head towards you, “Ooh, and who's this pretty little thing?” He smirked, grabbing your hand that laid atop the counter and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You gave him a polite smile, retracting your hand. You opened your mouth to introduce yourself but Hobie beat you to it. “Y/N Y/L/N. We met yesterday.”
“What he said,” you dipped your chin in agreement.
“A pretty name for a prettier lady,” Flash winked at you when Yuri pushed him away with her whole hand pressed up against his face, “don't mind this idiot. He always gets like this when he's woozy.”
“‘m not woozy.” Flash grumbled, pushing her hand off his face and crossing his arms over his chest like a child who didn't get what they wanted.
“Sure you aren't.” Yuri rolled her eyes, wiping the black marble counter with gold veinings etched into them with a scruffy cloth tinted a light brown at hand (you assumed that it used to be white once.)
“Just a little bit, alright?” He grunted.
You tune in and out of the conversation thinking about what you could do back at the parlor, what you still need to do and improve, how you're going to start developing and promoting your work. Making a website could do me goods, never hurts to try. Maybe I should make a Facebook page— You jumped out of your twilight zone when a pair of fingers snapped right in front of your face.
“Welcome back to earth, love.” Hobie's voice was the first one you processed. 
“Sorry, just got some things on my mind.” You ran a hand over your head till the nape of your neck, letting it settle there.
“I can see that,” Hobie took the empty glass of beer in your hand and replaced it with a refilled one. Your eyes lingered on his hands, watching them with precision before your eyes found their way back to your glass, staring at the foam floating at the top of the glass. You brought the glass up to your lips letting the liquid burn down your throat.
Hobies eyes lit up with amusement, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Calm down, love. The drink ain’ gonna run away from you.” He quipped, his fingers gently wrapping around your forearm pulling the drink down from your lips. Your body slightly tensed up as his warmth seeped into your skin and throughout your body, your eyes meeting his.
Hobie's amused smirk seemed to drop into a line when he noticed the change in the atmosphere. His eyes stuck on yours, yours on his.
The tension suddenly drowned out by the cackle of Yuri who was watching Flash flirt (and fail miserably) with some gals that sat a few seats away from the two of you. His hand quickly untangled itself from your arm finding its way back onto the counter. You let out a breath of relief thankful for brief distraction.
Flash trudged back to where the three of you were, his shoulders slumped with a small pout planted on his face after the girls left with scowls and disgust etched on their faces.
“No luck?” Yuri teased.
“Shut up.” Flash huffed, snapping his head away from her to which Yuri hummed smugly.
Hobie reassured Flash by giving him a small pat on his back whispering some words into his ear that seemed to lighten him up. 
“Hey, up for some dare or drink?” Flash beamed suddenly, his movement more animated than before.
“What?” you tilt your head quizzically. 
“Dare or drink, do the dare or chug a beer.” Flash summarized with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.
“Oh no, I should probably get back in a couple of minutes,” you interjected, waving your hands in the air dismissively. 
Yuri frowned, “c'mon babe, my shift is almost over. It won't hurt you to have a little fun, y'know?”
“I really shouldn't-” You protested but quickly folded with Yuri's small pout the alcohol in your system. I'm so gonna regret this later.
“Chug, chug, chug!” The three chanted while your hazy eyes tried to focus on the mug of beer in front of you. This might've been your fifth drink of the night, but could you blame yourself? You were definitely NOT texting your fucking ex that you missed him (given by our dear Flash). Not in a million years, but it was more tempting than chugging another beer and inevitably using the next person near you as a vomit bucket.
“Fuck, 'm gonna vomit.” You slurred, putting the glass mug down on the marble counter. Somehow, even with four and a half beers in your system, you could kind of think properly.
Kind of.
“It's the beer or the dare, babe.” Yuri reminded, wiggling her finger.
“Mhm,” you pinched the bridge of your nose trying to rub the blur out of your eyesight. “I-I’m going to find the bathroom.” You shook your head, standing up clumsily. You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth but it didn't help with your slurring at all.
You just whipped around and showed yourself the way towards the bathroom which you had no idea where the fuck it was simply disappearing into the crowd.
“That's not even the direction of the bathroom.” Yuri murmured, sighing defeatedly.
“So… who's going with her?” Flash raised an eyebrow, his eyes bouncing between Hobie and Yuri. The two stared back at him, making him raise his hands in the air defensively, “not it.”
It made both Hobie and Yuri roll their eyes. Yuri turned towards Hobie, opening her mouth to say something but Hobie interrupted her before she could.
“I'll go, ya both enjoy. If we don't return, we left, ‘ight?” Hobie gave them a curt nod and small goodbyes before he headed your way quickly just in case you were about to do something stupidly stupid and wouldn't be able to take it back.
Hobie strutted through the packed room, hands in pocket, eyes searching for a certain (h/c) headed individual. His height an advantage as he could see over the array of people. His nostrils taking in a whiff of the sweat and alcohol mixed in with the air, dancing bodies bumping against his.
Where did she go? He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes wandered over the room, skimming through the crowd but unable to spot you. You went in the complete wrong direction so you couldn't possibly have made it to the bathroom.
Should he call your name? Probably not, as tempting as it was, you weren't really a lost child.
He caught a glimpse of you – your back turned to him whilst you talked to two other girls. He doesn't remember introducing you to them. Maybe you knew them already? He pushed the thoughts aside, walking over towards you.
He tapped your shoulder, “Y/N-” only to freeze in his stance when he saw ‘you’ turn around.
“Huh?” The amber-eyed woman looked Hobie up and down, her eyes sparkling. “Sorry, can I help you?” She spoke softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.
“Sorry love, thought you were somebody else.” He explained noticing her smile slip a little.
“Oh.” She murmured melancholy, plastering a fake smile on her face. Hobie nodded and quickly left before she could say anything else.
Something – Someone – suddenly slammed into his side, his hands reaching down and grabbing their waist to steady them.
He looked down, finding your hazy eyes melding with his, “you good?”
“Just a little… light-headed.” You reassured, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm unable to ignore the uneasiness in the back of your throat but you didn't see why he had to know that.
“You wanna get outta here?” Hobie suggested, watching you narrow your eyes at him before nodding and mumbling something he assumed was a yes.
He moved his hand up wrapping around your shoulder and leading you towards the elevator.
Ding.
The Elevator had reached the top, the metal doors sliding out revealing how the dark blue had taken over the sky, multiple glowing specks adorning the sky. What time was it? Where were you two going now? You wondered, your thoughts racing from one to another. At least they hadn't gone completely blank… yet.
Your body moved on its own — with the help of Hobie, of course. Otherwise you'd probably still be tossed around the crowd like a colorful toy among a group of children.
You'd rushed over dipped your head over a plant pot that busied the wall right next to the elevator when you reached it. Gagging and retching, expecting your half-digested lunch and almost 5 beers to make a quick reappearance but it never did.
“You feelin’ better?” The voice snapped you out of your musing.
“Nope,” you answered with a pop of the p. “I think… I think it's probably gotten worse actually.” Your answer was slow, trying to comprehend each syllable you spit out of your mouth.
“Eh, should've known better before dragging ya into a bar and making you chug beer.” He sighed, feeling you lean against him while he continued to steady your movement.
“Probably.”
“Definitely.”
“Did you enjoy at least?” Hobie asked, trying to make some good of the situation.
“Mhm.” You crooned, stumbling over your own foot but never making it to the floor. He twisted the door knob that probably would've broken down if the breeze of air was too fast. “So where do you live?”
“Eh… my apartment.” You answered.
He chuckled at your ominous answer, “and where would your ‘apartment’ be?”
Huh… your apartment? It was on street… Your thoughts went blank. Did you just forget where you fucking live? yes. Yes you did. But if you think hard enough– nope. nothing. Maybe you shouldn't have drank that much.
With how long you were silent for, Hobie realized the problem. “Ya forgot?”
“I forgot.”
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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @the-kr8tor @missshelleyduvall @hobieszeze
Banner(s) by @/cafekitsune
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pinksugarscrub · 2 days
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Home
Pirate! Hobie x fem! reader
In the famous words of Luffy (Iñaki) future pirate king, "A ship is also a home".
Inspired by Between the Devil and the Sea by @the-kr8tor
(Tossed draft for The Pirate Princess)
The piano echoes in your mind like an endless melody. Tapping your fingers against the edge of the crow’s nest like you would the ivory keys. You can remember the gold encrusted stars in the ceiling. The walls darker than the depths of the sea. How your heels clicked across a tiled floor that was so iridescent it was like you were dancing on glass.
Although you breathe in the salt from the body of water below, you taste something sweet on your tongue as you reminisce. It isn’t sad, just bittersweet.
“Interupting you am I?”
Laughter bubbles out of your lips as you feel a familiar set of arms wrap around your waist. Hobie burying his nose into the crook of your neck. You never grow tired of the warm fuzzy feeling his presence brings you and you can’t help but try to pull him closer so he’s flush against your back. 
“Woah!” Hobie chuckles,“a bit early for that isn’t it love?”
You click your tongue. Rolling your eyes as you try to jab his side with your elbow. “Oh hush! You’ve officially ruined the moment.”
He snickers, easily catching your arm before twisting you around to face him. “Officially? What are we, bloody marines?”
The chatter from the crew below helps bring you back to reality. Your new reality. One you wouldn’t trade for the world.
Crossing your arms across your chest you lean against the wall of the crow’s nest. Arching a brow at him as you decide to play along. “At least the marines know what to do when a beautiful woman falls into their lap.” 
His grin widens into a smirk you know all to well and you’re already dreading he’ll say next.
“But do they know how to keep their woman satisfied? Hm?” He leans forward. Eyes flicking between your lips and gaze. “Like I do?” 
Of course, like the gullible woman you are, you let your eyes flutter shut. You’re confused until you hear him giggle and you know you’ve been duped because when you open your eyes he’s looking down at you with that cheeky look on his face. It’s so infuriating but it apparently still has an affect on you anyway because you feel heat crawl up your cheeks.
You take this moment of loss to your self-esteem to admire his attire. A newly mended white blouse that’s cut to expose some of his chest. (You’ll have to thank Kamala for that later). Signature holster around his waist. Very casual compared to the thick leather coat he adorns when you go into battle. 
Personally, you believe your crew has more style than a bird of paradise with how many trinkets and accessories they seem to find each time you dock the Mary Jane. 
“Aww darling, c’mere,”he coos. ”You’re so cute when you get all pouty with me.”
You huff in annoyance as you try to keep him away. It’s obvious he’s pretending to struggle but you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s making loud kissy noises while you whine and push your palms against his chest. One on his exposed skin (Were you about to pass up that opportunity? I think not!) and the other on the cotton of his sleeve.
“No! What kind of Captain denies his navigator a kiss!?
He grunts,“The kind that will make up for it later! Now come here-” 
You struggle for a moment longer before you hear someone call out to you. The two of you stop. Blinking at each other before Hobie let’s you slip out of his grasp. His hand on your lower back to keep you from leaning to far over the edge.
“Oh Robbie!” You cheerfully wave down. He’s nothing more than a speck of green but you always manage to hear him clearly.
“Mate,” Hobie yells,“we were kind of in the middle of something important.”
Said first mate scoffs at him before rolling his eyes. Not that you see any of this happen. You just know the man well enough. “Oh yes, so important…” He clears his throat before yelling back,“Riri’s messed with the gear again and I’m pretty sure we’re headed in the opposite direction.”
You can only watch as a tool is chucked in his direction. You’re assuming from inside Riri’s makeshift workshop. Wincing as it successful bonks him in the head. “It’s called renovating!” 
You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. 
“I’ll be right down!” Your boots scuffing against the wood as you make your way past Hobie to the ladder. 
“Pray tell, where-” You squeak as you feel him tug you back into his chest. Stumbling not so gracefully after craning your neck up to see him. “-do you think, you’re going, without giving me my kiss?”
“I’m sorry,” you laugh,”but I have duties, Captain.” He preens at the title. Shifting you around in his arms like you would a rowdy pup. “If we want to reach port in the next six hours and you know, not die of starvation on this ship. I need to go.”
“I never told you not to.” He answers. Grinning as he tightens his hold on you. “But you have at least a minute to spare for your beloved, yes?”
You scrunch you nose, gently shaking your head as if scolding a child. A very greedy child that always seems to attach himself to you. It’s a wonder the crew hasn’t named him the ocean’s clingest sea urchin. “My beloved, yes, my captain…no,” you chuckle. “Come on Hobie, I promise you a kiss after supper and after I help Riri.”
He sighs dramatically before releasing you. His hands up in surrender as he backs away. “Fine fine. But I’m holding you to it eh? The second you’re done you come find me.”
“Aye Captain.” You salute. He watches as you hop down the ladder and after two or three steps you disappear. Once you’re out of earshot he lets out a dreamy sigh, slumps against the walls of the crow’s nest, and cranes his neck up to the sky. 
“Oi, that means you too Hobart!” Robbie hisses. “Stop daydreaming a get down ere’!”
Hobie snorts, fixing his hat. “Alright, I’m comin’!”
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tiathecreator · 2 days
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⋆⭒˚。⋆ so american ( hobie brown ) !
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎.𖥔 ݁ ˖✎ᝰ synopsis — " he laughs at all my jokes and he says i'm so american. " blk reader.
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚contains — ooc (?) hobie, fluff, swearing, atsv!hobie brown, hobie is taller than you no matter what, very very slight.
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ tia speaks — because nobody told olivia to write such a cute song like my goodness. i love this song so bad ( almost as bad as i love accented men ) so i had to write a piece inspired by it ! i am also using this to be a complete feminism nerd and i almost wrote something similar with another olivia song lol. i totally recommend reading this whilst listening to 'so american' by olivia rodrigo !! happy reading !
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despite his punk exterior, hobie is the best boyfriend you've ever had.
you'd first met hobie when you were selected to speak at a diversity conference in london. you were studying abroad in the middle of your second year of university, using the excuse of 'furthering your education' to read authentic european literature and cross of some of your bucket list. he was doing his usual routine when he swung by a billboard advertising the conference. he decided to check it, never one to shy away from social politic discourse. he stopped by a few panels, taking a liking to the minority in leadership panel, before stopping by the gender and intersectionality panel.
hobie's eyebrows rose as he watched you prepare yourself for your own presentation. you were dressed in business professional with the best shaped afro hobie had ever seen. his pulse quickened as you sent the moderator a ready smile before you began speaking.
and you were so american.
your charisma was enchanting, gracefully demanding the attention of the room. you engaged with the audience as you presented, throwing in small jokes here and there to keep the crowded attentive. he even imagined your expression becoming the slightest bit bashful as he caught your eye. you ended your presentation with another dazzling smile and an adorable tilt of your head at the sound of the applause filling the room.
he was even more impressed with your ability to answers questions on the fly. it was as if you thought of every possible questions and came up with perfectly calculated answers for each of them.
"i have a question for y/n. you mentioned white feminism and black feminism as two separate movements due to the lack of inclusion of marginalized women and their concerns. does that mean that you believe that white women are inherently racist?" a commentator asked. a furrow found its way in between your brow before you answered.
"no, i called it uninclusive because i meant it did not include the needs of women who were not upper class, able, educated, white women. black feminism can include women who are not black as it's an umbrella term of sorts. it serves to uplift and represent the underrepresented and unite all feminists, not imply that all white women are racist because of one social group. there are some wonderful white women who can acknowledge their privilege and use it to uplift us all as a united front rather than living in their individual comfortability. thank you for your question."
after your panel concluded, hobie found himself searching for you in the crowd of spectators. he eventually found you holding a bouquet of flowers from the moderator as you put away your things. he casually made his way to you, slipping through the ocean of bodies before standing behind you.
"would've gotten flowers if i had known someone as smart as you would be presenting here. however, i doubt i'd be able to find anything as beautiful as you, ms. america," he charmed, immediately gaining your attention as you turned to him.
"i take it that you liked my presentation," you mused, smiling up at the man before you.
"liked it so much that i'd like to hear it again. maybe over a meal some time, yeah?"
your cheeks stung from how wide you smiled as you punched your number into his phone, telling him to text you the details.
you guys hit it off as your personalities, morals, and routines meshed almost perfectly. you finished your educational responsibilities around the same time he finished his internship, leaving the two of you with enough time to see each other at least three times a week, excluding your weekend.
he's so attentive as he remembers everything about you, including things that you mentioned offhandedly. you'll expect him to pay it no mind until he says or does something that showed you that he was in fact listening to your every word.
and he's so soft with you. underneath your boyfriend's unapproachable persona was a man who was putty in your hands. he melts into your embrace, hands gently cupping your face as he laid a breathless kiss on your lips. he was always touching you when he was in your presence. he usually opted for the casual arm hooked across your front as he rested his chin on your shoulder. it was the perfect height for you to whisper all of your jokes into his ear, ensuring that he didn't miss the chance to indulge in your humor.
you actually guessed that he was the esteemed spider-punk after having rescued you from a mid-evening robbery. you noticed the stature of the hero looked familiar as you watched him swing through the air.
"what happened here?" you asked him one lazy morning, pointing to the bruise forming on his shoulder.
"i slipped in the shower," he mumbled, pulling you closer to him as he tried to go back to sleep.
"are you sure it had nothing to do with that pole the news showed you being flung into?" you mused.
"how'd you figure?" he asked, eyes now open as he looked down at you with a tired grin.
"what kind of girlfriend would i be if i didn't know my boyfriend when i saw him?" you replied, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "plus i’ve tripped over your beat up sneakers enough times to recognize them."
"sneakers," he said, copying your accent. he let out an amused gruff after you painlessly slapped his arm. "you're such an american."
he made the effort to join you for your public demonstrations, only stepping in when someone got mouthed off at you too much for his liking, knowing that you could hold your own but preferring if you didn't have to. he read all of your favorite books as well as any pieces that you mentioned to him. he participates in most of your hobbies, even picking up a few and calling them his own.
he even calls your mom, asking her how she had been since the last time he had the chance to ask. she was more excited to see him the first time you visited since meeting him. she tried to treat him as a guest, but he was set on helping her around the house, taking care of any odd problems she had.
you might just have to marry him if he keeps this shit up.
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pleaktale · 12 hours
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It's midnight and I'm awake like I got a charge of 2000 volts in my body so...
Hobie Brown yapping!
More so about his... morals? Possible beliefs? I don't know, something like that.
This one is more like a little headcanon of sorts? I don't know how to classify this tbh.
Anyways! We have the album for the movie on spotify, right? And in the spotify version (I never checked the others...) some of them have voice-overs from the film. And of course one of my favorites is Link Up and Silk & Cologne (both have Hobie voice-overs).
And even with the other songs with voice-overs, I can't help but think that it has purpose. Why would they throw a random voice-over of a random character in a song if not for the song to relate to them somehow?
See this one for example:
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It has a Miguel voice-over at the end, and somehow I can see it fitting his story. He had nothing and found somewhere where he had everything, but still lost it.
Oh and what about this one?
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I don't know about you guys but this music screams desperation. Miles desperation to get to Gwen. And in the end we have Mr. Morales voice-over "Mini man, come on, drop the beat!" and when that happens? After he makes his speech and refers to Miles and he's simply not there.
THIS IS GETTING LONG BUT I THINK ITS CLEAR NOW SORRY 😭
About our beloved, we have this in Link Up:
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THIS JUST SPEAKS SO MUCH HOBIE TO ME I CAN'T— I'm not going for the "he hates labels so of course he would never call anyone partner!" bullshit. Shut yo mouth.
He does love, he does expect to have someone one day but "don't talk about the worries, let's link up"!! He's one to go with the flow!! No need to rush anything, feelings have to grow in order to be nurtured.
And Silk & Cologne? Just confirms that.
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I need you close, don't go far drom me
And I feel better when you talk to me
So come and talk to me
He just wants someone to trust him and take this slow ride with him. At least that's what he expects from a partner – someone to be together without doubting things or rushing them. ( ´∀` )b
And that’s it, I just spend 30 minutes to ramble about Hobie and make silly connections with my silly brain. See you soon! BBYE! 🩷
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mcntsee · 12 days
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The real barbie is Y/n.
Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.
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messylustt · 10 months
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i need hobie brown smut i can’t find any 😭🙏 hes a rockstar so i’m pretty sure those fingers are …. 😍😍
practice — hobie brown. longer name. hobie using your pussy for band practice. they areeee tho. god.
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he’d be sitting on a comfy chair or couch, legs spread (of course), and he’d be ushering you over by a slight backwards tilt to his head. thinking all is innocent you walk over, bouncing onto the couch beside him. hobie immediately grabs your legs which had bent slightly together, as he straightens them over his lap, his large hands practically wrapping around both calves (they are big enough, yes).
“how’d practice go?” you ask, shifting to get slightly more comfortable. “I could practically hear your guitar from a million rooms down — ” but your words drift off upon feeling his hands glide up your leg, coming to a stop by your bare thighs (you being in a skirt). you intake air as hobie yanks you closer to him by your thighs, slightly spreading them in the process.
you’re now practically draped over him having to push up slightly on your elbows as you stare at him from lower on the couch. “it was alrigh’…” his hand began to lead under your skirt all while keeping eye contact with your fluttering eyes. “if ya heard it that far away, then mission accomplished.” your breathing hitches as hobie’s ringed fingers disappear under your skirt, away from your vision, as he slowly brushes over your covered pussy, making your hips jolt.
“but apparently I need practice…” he hums, beginning to draw patterns over your clit as your chest begins to heave. “my fingers need to be quicker to get a certain tempo…” now he’s moving your panties aside as he slides the tips of his fingers through your wetness. “thanks, babe…ya all prepared for me.”
and then he’s thrusting two long fingers into your cunt making your breathing hitch as your hips shift. “hobie…”
“mm…” he watches as his fingers go in and out your pretty hole. “ya can help me get better…righ’?” his thrusts are moving quicker now, as his other hand keeps your thighs spread apart. “let me know if my speed is improving.” you’re now a whimpering mess as your head knocks back, his thrusts now at an ungodly pace as his thumb moves to rub circles on your clit.
“no no…i need to you to see. to let me know how i’m doing…” his free hand moved to pull your chin back. “watch.” your pussy is clenching around his fingers, as the speed makes your entire body hum, his thumb somehow flicking your clit perfectly. and as your orgasm crashes over you, hobie hums to himself, slowing the pace a fraction, but not pulling out.
“see…i’m already getting better…you really are helping me improve…” his thrusts quicken up again, making you whine in overstimulation. “shh…this technique is working…i can’t stop my practice now…”
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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cyberjam · 11 months
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ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆
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warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!
word count - 2.1k
main masterlist <3
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☆ . . . miles morales
I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.
If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.
Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.
He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)
Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.
He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3
"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."
☆ . . . gwen stacy
She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.
Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.
She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.
You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.
She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.
You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.
"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."
☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar
It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).
You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.
He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.
There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.
A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)
He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.
He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...
"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."
☆ . . . hobie brown
What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.
I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.
Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.
He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.
When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)
Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."
Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.
"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."
☆ . . . miguel o' hara
You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.
Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.
He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.
He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.
He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.
If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.
"Can I kiss you?"
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omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3
likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33
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clemleur · 10 months
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makin' love - hobie brown
hobie loves it when you get all sappy during sex
his cock is deep in your cunt and his arms are forcing your back to arch so he can hit that spot deeper and harder
he’s all focused on making you feel good and getting you to squirt all over his thick veiny cock when he sees your arm reaching for something behind you and your whines become less pleasure sounding and more “need something” sounding
and before he can even ask what his baby needs, he feels your hand touch and grip his arm
and he realizes that you just wanna hold his hand while he blows your back out
“you wanna hold my hand baby? is that it?” he says while he intertwines his hand with yours
and he knows he was right when instead of responding, you just let out a whine of satisfaction, too fucked out to really give a good response
and in another instance, he’s making love to you in missionary, kissing all over your face and holding you close while you feel the slow drag of his cock in and out of you
he’s rubbing on your clit and you just feel so so good that you tear up a little bit
“what’s wrong? are you okay? do you want to stop?” he asks worried he’s hurting you
but all you do is choke out in between moans that you want a kiss and whisper against his lips that you love him
and it brings him so close so fast that before he can stop it, he cums inside you while wiping your tears while he kisses you nice and slow
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kombuuuu · 10 months
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we all notice hobie in this scene cause he’s a cutie pie but LOOK AT MILES EYES
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HES SO FUNNY (o 0)
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autumn-hiraeth · 10 months
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Hobie Brown being your boyfriend...
Hobie brown x reader
2nd part
just a few headcanons of our spider-punk <33
fluff, slight nsfw and angst?
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Hobie loves to kiss you, no matter the place or who is around, he will take every opportunity to kiss you and devour your mouth.
"hey hun" he whispers while Miguel is explaining something important.
"mmmh.. " you look at him before you felt his soft lips on yours.
Hobie loves to hold your hand, he likes how his big hand wraps around yours, he also likes to wrap your waist with his hands or lean his head against your shoulder. Hobie only wants to feel you.
Hobie shows you off to everyone; with his friends from the gang and his friends from the spider society.
"Miles, my mate, you need to meet Y/n, she's so badass, coolest and most stylish girl of all the multiverse... you'll get along with her for sure, she has that charm"
"who's Y/n?"
"the love of his life, his better half.. Y/n is the girlfriend of my bro" Pav explains
" thought you hate labels"
" Y/n has that effect on him" Gwen whispers
Hobie follows you on all the missions 'cause he needs to take care of you. As long as he exists, no one can hurt you.
"Miss me luv?" your eyes widen in surprise to see your boyfriend swing next to you
"hobie, what are you doing here?"
"just taking care of my girl"
Hobie asks you to move into his canal boat, sadly that would not be possible, your universe needs his spider-woman, but sometimes hobie manages to convince you.
"Hobie my love, I can't stay" you whisper between kisses as your boyfriend slides his big hands under your shirt-it's actually his-
"shh luv, just lemme make ya feel better" he murmurs before sliding his hand under your panties .
In short, Hobie being your boyfriend is heavenly
'til the canon event happens.
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angelltheninth · 11 months
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The Flirting Skills of Spiderverse Characters
Pairing: Peter B. Parker, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Miguel O'Hara, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar x Reader
Tags: fluff, crush, flirting, established relationship, kissing, confidence boost, secret identity
A/N: I asked myself if these characters have rizz and behold!
Peter does have pretty good flirting skills once you start dating. Until the he's a tiny bit awkward but not too much, he knows you already like him. His smiles are always a litte loopsided when he walks his fingers up your arm, to your cheek, watching goosebumps bloosom on your skin right before he kisses you.
Miles needs to look up pick up lines before he sees you. They don't help. Well they do but not in the way he thought. He mixes up his lines from how nervous he is but instead of messing up his chances with his crush, you end up liking him even more then you did before.
Gwen is a pretty good flirt once she becomes fond of you. In and out of the costume actually. In the costume more before you start to return her feelings but when she's sure you feel the same way she does hard on the flirting when she's outside of the costume and eases up while she's in the costume.
Miguel flirts like no other. Kissing your cheek, dipping down like you're in a dance, always pulling you to his chest while looking at you with the most smug grin on his face. How could he not with the reactions he pulls from you, all those yelps and dreamy sighs and mindmelting kisses you give him in return.
Hobie flirts without meaning to. He is naturally a very touchy, energetic guy so he makes your heart skip a beat without trying to. If he does try you're in real trouble. It was already hard enough to try not to kiss him while he was just a friend but now he's actually putting the moves on you. Worst of all he knows exactly what he's doing to you and he's not slowing down.
Pavitr is a smooth talker outside of the costume but not in it. When he sees you face to face his confidance goes up by a lot but when you're looking at him like you don't really know him, he falters. Always the one to put his arm around your shoulder and pull you into a kiss, smiling into it as you cup his jaw, silently asking for one more.
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claw-deen · 11 months
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when you start crying in front of them:
WHO NEEDS THEIR DAILY DOSE OF COMFORT IT'S FREE EVERYONE
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miles is an empathetic boy; as soon as you start crying, he'll give you a hug, and even if he's a bit nervous about being so close to you, he'll stay like that for as long as you like.
gwen might get overwhelmed at first, seeing you cry makes her heart sinks in her chest and she's probably going to shed a few tears with you as well. she would hold your hand the whole time, gently squeezing it every time she hears you sob.
pavitr would become unusually quiet and would try to ask you what's wrong. if you don't answer him he'd just bring you closer to his chest, running his hand in your hair in an attempt to make you feel better. he would say things like “it's okay, I'm here for you”, insisting on the fact that he will never let you down.
hobie won't ask you anything until you're ready to talk about it. for now, he'd gladly be the shoulder you can rest and cry on. he rubs your back in a soothing way, bringing you closer to him when he feels your body trembling. he'd stay silent for the most part, randomly humming a melody to fill the silence in between your sobs.
miguel would first check if you're not injured, out of instinct. once he's sure you don't have any injuries he would ask you what is making you cry and he would try his best to give you good advice. but if it's a person who made you cry, oh boy, they can already start running for their life.
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fabled-fiction · 11 months
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Hiiii!! Can I request a hobie brown x fem reader where the hobie swings by the readers room and just cuddles with her because he’s tired from patrol and the reader loves it because he only has a soft spot for her! And it’s just very fluffy!
Open Window (Hobie Brown x Reader)
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Summary: Hobie didn't realize how strung out he was until a certain someone crosses his mind.
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: MINOR SPIDERMAN ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS
A/N: I tried writing in a fem reader and then realized as I was writing I neglected that. I tried going back it but it felt forced, I hope this still suffices!
It felt like he never slept.
When could he afford too? It seemed like every step forward he took in taking down Osborn and his regime, they took three. Every running start he had they moved the finish line.
It was exhausting to be honest.
And now on top of his own problems on his earth, this stupid watch wouldn’t stop beeping with anomalies that needed taking down and tethering back to their Earths.
Hobie could feel the bags forming under his already painted ones.
His head had been reeling recently. Jumping back to his Earth after coming from the Spider Society was never easy no matter how much radioactivity was coursing through his hardened veins. He had a theory that despite having the wristband that helped him jump back and forth, he needed one for his head. The shift in perspective, and what could be perceived as art styles of the different Earths were making his vision hazy. 
Perching himself onto the top of a billboard, Hobie hit the side of his head with the edge of palm. Maybe if he hit his head hard enough or in the right spot he could knock the buzzing in his brain out long enough for him to make sense of where he was. 
On occasion it almost felt like he was back in that stupid spider tower, or another unfamiliar Earth.
Shaking his head, he took a glance about the neon lit streets of his Earth.
Wait, he recognized this street…no wait. No yea he recognized where this street lead to. 
Pulling the edge of his suit wristband back, he pulled up the time on his watch.
4:32:02am
Hobie knew exactly what he needed to rejuvenate, to put the rock back in his roll. 
Standing from his perch, he felt his bones begin to ache as they realized where they were about to be. Pulling his mask back over his head, he was about to flip when his watch started to buzz.
The holographic face of Gwen popped up.
“Hey! Hobie, Im glad I caught you. You got a seco-”
“Sorry Gwendy, can’t talk right now.”
“Wait! I n-”
He couldn't swing fast enough.
There was a warm purple light coming from your window, leaking through your curtains like a holy light.
He’d have to lecture you about leaving your window unlocked for anyone to crawl into later, it didn't matter that you were on the 14th story of your building. But as of right now, as he peeled your window open he saw it as a blessing as he tumbled head first into your room.
Hobie hadn’t realized how long it had been since he had seen you.His spider work had always been number one, taking down the rising regime of fascism in his city. Even the Spider society jobs have seen more of him than his own bed. It almost felt like he was more Spiderman than Hobie Brown, his heroism taking priority over everything else.
Well, almost everything else.
But now as he stumbled about, throwing his sneakers and guitar in the corner of your room the only thing on his mind was you. More specifically crawling into your bed that seemed to always be WAY more comfortable than his.
He hadn’t realized how much he missed you.
Hobie was so preoccupied with getting out of his Spidersuit that was growing increasingly more annoying by the second, he hadn’t even realized you were now leaning against your doorframe.
Sometimes you thought he played up these so called spider senses. There was no way he let you sneak up on him as many times as you have.
“Where..I know you ‘ave it somewhere in ‘ere.” He mumbled to himself, digging through your drawers with little regard to your neatly folded clothes there were already in there. 
Placing your cup of water on your nightstand, you perched on the edge of your bed and watched as your once clean-ish room transformed to match the thought process of the sleep deprived Spider in front of you.
You knew what he was looking for, Hobie had a tendency to leave shirts in your room whenever he stayed over. He said it was for convenience, it made it easier to switch from Spiderman to Hobie Brown. You couldn’t count the amount of times on your fingers when you had done laundry and realized nothing in the basket was yours. He almost had a full drawer in your dresser.
“Try the very bottom drawer.” You yawn, a few joints popping as you stretched out whatever you could stretch out.
Hobie turned his head to look at you for only a moment, and you hadnt even realized that he had discarded his mask somewhere into the clothed chaos that was hurricane Hobie.
Falling back onto your bed, you let out another big yawn as you made yourself situated. You could hear Hobie shuffling about your room, making himself more than at home as he slammed the window shut. A very loud click of your window lock followed by a thunk of a thwip made you chuckle.
“You seriously need to considah lockin’ your window. Could’a been an unsightly fella.” He muttered as he reached to fully close your curtains.
“Well I know who to call if I see one of these so called unsightly fellas.”
There was a grumble that came closer to your bed, and what you swore you was the gulping down of YOUR glass of water followed by the creak of your mattress.
It was like a second nature to the both of you even though you hadn’t physically seen eachother in what felt like months (in reality it was only a week but you too were too clingy to admit to each other it had felt longer). Molding into one another was easy for you too.
Hobie’s arm easily found its way over your waist, pulling you as close to him as he physically could. The minute he had his head resting on your chest he swore he could feel the color coming back to him. Feeling your hand run over his wicks, and eventually come to rest on the nape of his neck made him break into a hazy smile.
But then his stupid watch started buzzing. Didn’t he take it off?
He tried ignoring it for a moment, hoping whoever was calling him would get the message.
When you had started to pull away was when he had enough. 
Ripping the watch off his wrist, he threw it across the room and webbed it to a random wall. Before you could even protest that he had yet again left webbing that would take months to come off, he wrapped his arms around you and flipped around so that you were laying ontop of him. His arms basically locked around you, and solidified that you two would not be moving for the rest of the night.
He needed this, and he could tell based off the way that you melted into him that you needed this as well.
“Hobie shouldn’t you have answered that?”
He could deal with the consequences later, right now he was exactly where he needed to be.
“Nah.”
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divine-girl02 · 9 months
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hes so freakishly tall and lanky <3
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nu11lar · 5 months
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he would be the type of person to go wayy too far into fucking you, wether it will be during a dinner gathering or... in the balcony. he would either have your stomach pressed against the cold railings or make you hold onto them while he abuses your sopping hole from behind. it doesn't matter if it's too risky, embarrassing, or humiliating, he would not care. not even a single bit.
it will turn him even more on if someone across the apartment building is also out in the balcony, having the chance for the person to see just two people making love at night in the balcony, now that's some murda b shit.
he'll press his chest against your back and place his hands ontop of yours, keeping you still. his lips inches closer to the shell of your ear as his hot breath fans over it. you're practically begging him to slow down and do this somewhere else but he refuses, he just wants to show the world what kind of slut you are for your boyfriend/fiancé.
"hm? you're sayin' that this is embarrassing? then how come you're creaming all over my dick and tightening around me huh? silly girl, you're enjoying this."
"tsk, tsk, what a whore. you enjoy being watched by the people across from us while i fuck you dumb eh? i should do this more- fuck- more often.."
he just loves to humiliate you, doesn't he?
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🦢 ㅡ GOJO SATORU, TOJI FUSHIGURO, geto suguru, RAN HAITANI, HANMA SHUJI, manjiro "mikey" sano, izana kurokawa, scaramouche, CHILDE, wriothesley, hobie brown, DAZAI OSAMU, CHUUYA NAKAHARA, fyodor dostoevsky, NIKOLAI GOGOL, sanemi shinazugawa, DOUMA, + any of your faves !
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