#hobie brown fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ladyquietus · 11 months

Text

watching Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse and knowing Hobie Brown has gotten me feral. Could not stop thinking about being that man’s lover and oh the things he could do. Jesus.

Getting Real

Hobie Brown x Fem y/n: Smut Read

AN: a bit older y/n from another dimension, some smut, fluff, cussing, nicknames, semi age gap, the works.

W: I apologize if I’ve made any mistakes, English is not my first language.

Minors, ageless blogs do NOT interact.

>> Long read ahead

“Oh, I bet you think your honey taste like sugar. But honey, sugar don’t taste that bitter~ Baby, you ain’t sweet. Look at what you did to me~…” y/n sings to the lyrics, tapping her foot on the floor. The music blaring from her headphones, getting distracted from doing homework infront of her.

She adjusted the frames of her glasses, licking her lips and continued humming to the tone. Failing to notice the flashes of bright, sharp lights beaming through the bedroom window behind her.

It was heavily pouring outside, the shut window slowly rutted opened. Slim fingers appeared on the frame, pulling a bit more force Til the figure could come through the window.

The masked vigilante made his way inside, patting off droplets of rain. He took off his mask, letting his full blown hair pop up.

He smirked at the sight of y/n, sitting infront of her desk, Clueless about this presence. The music she was listening and the loudness of the rain made y/n unaware of Hobie approaching her.

Hobie posed finger gun on his right hand, pressing the tips of his fingers on y/n’s upper back.

“Hands where I came see em’ lil’ lady” he jokes, feeling her tensed.

Y/n quickly pulled off her headphones and spun around, looking at a chuckling Hobie in disbelief.

“You ass,” she glared at him, pushing him off.

“You’re gonna get robbed easily love, I won’t be around you for that.” He holds his hands up in defense.

“Luckily, we’ve got another Spider-Man here huh, what’re you doing here anyways?” She questions, crossing her legs on the office chair she was sitting.

Hobie plopped down on her bed, wincing a bit when he noticed a small stain of blood on his shirt on the left side where his ribs lie.

“Shit.” He cussed, pulling off his leathered spiked jacket.

“What’s wrong?” Y/n stood up concerned, slowly made her way towards him and sat beside him.

“Just a graze, don’t worry. Must’ve gotten caught a crossfire between these crime families back home, what nasty lil’ shits.”

“And you didn’t feel that until now? You must’ve been in a load of adrenaline, It must be wearing off.” y/n sighs, kneeling down beside the bed and pulled out a storage box. She took out a first aid kit and sat back again beside Hobie.

“You’re cute when you’re concerned doll, it’s like you’re forgetting I have massive pain tolerance.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, feeling her worry for him a bit made his heart swell.

He always kept his heart up on his sleeve, meeting y/n months ago somehow changed that despite they’re still friends. He also knew that she was older than him, two years older in fact and it must’ve set her back.

They met when he and Gwen came to her dimension, looking for their villain of the week that somehow skipped across dimensions and landed on hers. She was a med student, walked in a parking lot alone at a convenience store. Not knowing she was being followed a creep whom Hobie took action on.

The rest was history.

“Putting your schooling in good use aye?” He jokes again, taking off his shirt after seeing her getting crossed.

Thou shall not poke a pissed off y/n.

“Glad you find this funny, what would happen if you got hit somewhere serious huh Hobie?” She clicked her tongue, throughly disinfecting his flesh wound.

“Relax, you’re forgetting who you’re talking to.”

Hobie’s relentless teasing didn’t lighten the situation, it just made y/n worry more whenever he’s not around. She would never really know the next time he’ll come back.

He felt it, she was always the worrywart. Somehow he could read what was going on through her pretty little head.

“I’ll always come back to you, my love. So please stop worrying, I’m here with you right now and I promise you I’d want to go through everything for you.” His voice softens, his gaze never leaving hers.

He leaned just a bit closer, caught a whiff of her lavender shampoo and declared that it was his favorite scent.

“Hobs…” she quietly says, feeling the tension between them. Her eyes meeting his, couldn’t help but noticed he kept glancing on her lips.

“Mhm, yes mamas?” He couldn’t help but inch a bit closer, grazing his lip on hers.

Just a lil bit of tease.

The slight cold of his steel lip ring had made y/n’s skin crawl with goosebumps. His rough, firm hand radiated a lot of warmth on hers. Yet his thumb caressing the top of hers made something stir up inside her.

The new nickname he gave her wasn’t helping, she felt a bit guilty she wanted to hear it more from his lips.

He was waiting for her, he didn’t want to freak her out if he was too forward. But he was too damn excited, he’s been wanting to kiss her for a while now.

It was eating him up inside.

y/n closed the distance, letting her lips connected to his but it was only quick and subtle. She was nervous as hell, the last time she kissed someone was her ex-boyfriend a year ago.

“Babe that’s not enough, not enough at all.” His voice was heavy with need, in need of her.

Hobie raised his left hand, enclosing his slender fingers on her jawline. Grasping it softly and pulled her closer, wrapping his other hand around her waist to pull her on top of him.

Y/n squeaked In surprised, Instinctively holding on to his broad shoulders.

“Hobs-”

His lips immediately crashing to hers, he loved how soft it felt and the taste of earl grey tea still lingered on her tongue.

y/n moaned on his mouth, it was music to his ears and he wanted to listen to it more.

The kiss was sloppy, y/n was struggling to keep up. Her nails dug into his skin, making him grow excited beneath her. She surely felt it and subconsciously started to grind on it through his leathered pants.

“Mm mas, You’re making it hard to stop,” he says in between kisses.

She grew too fond of it, she didn’t care if her lips had start to swell or bruised. It was addicting to make out with Hobie Brown.

“Mmm,” were the only sounds she left out. Taking the lip ring between her teeth and pulled slowly.

Hobie’s grip on her waist and thighs got tighter when she did it, almost made him cum on that spot. He swore this woman was gonna be the death of him if she keeps it up.

y/n’s hands started to trail, from his shoulders to his chest. Feeling every detail of him, how warm he was despite the nonchalance he always gives off to most people.

She reached right above his pants, Hobie was sensitive to what she has touched.

y/n dragged a finger over the tent, her wetness grew at the feeling of how hard he was of her.

They both finally pulled away, heavy breathing. Hobie leaned against the headboard, still not loosening his vice on her as if she were to disappear any moment.

Looking at her all disheveled and swollen lips, her eyes kept screaming at him to just take her then and there.

“Love, I’d want you to shoot me in the head if I ever say no to you but have you even done it before? I wouldn’t want to rush you to something you’re not comfortable with.” He reassures in a soft voice despite his lustful gaze.

y/n couldn’t care less anymore, she had too much pent up frustration. She was still a virgin, the only farthest thing she had done with her ex was giving and receiving oral sex.

“Hobs, if you won’t fuck the living daylights out of me- I will be putting a lock on that window the minute you leave.” she huffs, palming his hardness.

“Damn mamas alright, I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckles, both of his hands crawling their way to her ass. A bit frustrated that she was still covered in shorts and a baggy shirt, it may look cute on her but Hobie preferred much that she wore close to nothing at all.

“Gonna need these off first,” he mumbles, burying his face on her neck, leaving lazy kisses and soft bites.

“Couldn’t agree more,” she replied, closing her eyes and biting her lip to moan out loud.

Hobie ripped out her shorts, tugging the cloths away and was surprised to feel her wearing a thong.

“Jesus, love.” He smiles against her neck, immediately groping her cheeks and slapping the right.

He pulled on her thong, making her wet slit grind against the thin fabric.

“Fuck, Hobs…”

“You’ve been wearing this kind of panties around me all this time?” Another slap on her right cheek.

“Mmm sometimes,” y/n started to enjoy this too much.

Another slap before his firm fingers started to spread her cheeks apart, groping and gripping them all around.

Without warning, Hobie pushed her over on her back. Making them switch sides. He was on top, wouldn’t even stop smiling at her.

“Do you know how many times I keep thinking about you being underneath me?” He caresses her cheek, placing a peck.

He lowered himself more, placing more and more small yet sweet kisses. Raising the disruptive shirt to her chest til her breasts were on full view to his pleasure.

Hobie already loves them, they were perfect to him. They weren’t too small nor too big, mouth started to salivate at the size of her areolas.

Letting one arm to support himself, he cupped one of her breast and kneed on the erected bud. Licking her lips for another neediness.

“Something tells me it’s gonna be more than once,” y/n managed to whimper out, Hobie taking the whole bud in his mouth.

His hand caresses it’s way to her swollen pussy lips, eating the thin line of cloth. He could feel how needy and wet she was for him, and God she was soaked.

She squirmed, bucking her hips for more of his fingers. Meanwhile, Hobie’s mouth was occupied- switching between one tit to another.

His fingers itched to plunge deep inside her ache, he pulled the thong to the side and started rubbing her clit.

“Hobs… fuck, that feels good,” she mewed, kept on squirming.

Hobie hummed in pleasure, feeling her wither from his touch made him smirk.

Y/n’s body jerked when she felt a sharp and pleasurable pain when Hobie softly hit one of her nipples.

“Hobie!” He chuckles, licking the aching nub soothingly.

“If you’ll let me mas, I need to taste you. Need to fill my hunger for you right now.” He left her chest, licking and biting his way down to her abdomen. Leaving so much marks, he’s gotten too proud and wanted to mark her more.

She couldn’t say anything but whimpers. She nodded her head in response, but this only wanted Hobie to tease her more.

Without warning, both of his fingers plunged inside her. Feeling the walls tightening around him, it was so warm- he started imagining how amazing it must feel if it were his cock.

“Use your big girl words, love.” He curled his fingers, hitting that spot that made y/n grip her hands all over his body.

“Hobs- eat me out please,”

Hobie didn’t waste any time, he’d gotten too needy- placing his lips on her sex. It reeked of desperation.

Both his left hand and mouth enjoyed giving y/n too much pleasure, His right gripping on her inner thigh to keep her open for him. Y/n still kept on squirming, her legs begging to close in on his head.

It was too much.

She bit her bottom lip too hard, she swore she was already seeing stars as Hobie kept on abusing her pussy with the combo. She couldn’t help but let her moans out, a few cusses and whimpers of “Hobs” kept escaping from her mouth.

She felt this wave, this urge for release.

“Wait Hobs- Hobie! I’m gonna pee- stop,” she started to pull away, gripping on the sheets as if it were to help her.

Hobie didn’t say anything but looked at her, meeting her eyes but didn’t stop. He went faster, flicking his tongue all over her wet sex and fucking it with his fingers.

“Hobi- Hobie,” she couldn’t escape, Hobie kept on pulling her back. The more she struggled- the closer the release.

“Hobie” her toes curled, letting the wave overcome her.

It came in spurs, she started squirting all over his mouth and face. Hobie immediately started lapping her up, trying to drink every little drop.

That’s a first, even my ex wasn’t able to do that with me. Her chest was heaving, thighs still trembling from the aftermath.

“If I knew you tasted this good, I would’ve done this sooner.” He smiles, giving her pussy one last kiss before kissing her lips a few times.

“Mmm- sorry, I made a mess on your face,” she breathes out, pussy still sensitive as Hobie’s huge girth was pressing against it.

Hobie unzipped his pants, quickly taking it off and freed his aching cock from his boxers.

“You’re gonna have to make another mess, mas. Whole lot more,” grinding the tip at her wetness, giving special attention to her swollen clit.

“Hobie… I just came,” she glanced nervously at his size, it was a good guess of 6-7 inches with a bit of a wide veiny girth.

“Better then, I’ll take care of you darling. Don’t worry, you’ll be wanting it more soon,” Hobie slowly pressed on his hips, the tip slowly making its way inside her folds.

As he leisurely pressed it inside, she could feel him stretching her out. Her walls adjusting to his size, but surprisingly she only felt a scale of 5/10 pain.

“You okay, my love?” Hobie asks, each of his hands holding her hands down. Kissing her cheek and neck to reassure her.

“Mhm, just keep going. Is it even fully in yet?” She groaned.

“Not even close, but fuck I’m only half way through- the tip’s kissing your cervix already.” He laughs a bit, then groaned at she kept gripping around him.

The pain started to retreat, and all she could feel how full she was of him, and he was right- she could feel his hard tip pressing on the entrance of her cervix.

“Hobie, move. Please.” She begged, looking at his pained expression.

“Mmm, love. You’re still adjusting,” Hobie groaned, hearing her say those words almost made him pound into her to oblivion.

“Please Hobs, start fucking me. I won’t say it again.” She says sternly, something inside her grew excited. Her nervousness soon started to diminish and was replaced with yearning.

He looked down on her, wringing her wrists together above her head and slinging his web- bounding them together.

“As you wish.”

He placed one of his hands under her ass, pulling her up a bit and started to pull his length out before plunging it back in her.

Y/n’s bound hands immediately placed themselves at the back of his neck. It was a slow pounding but she was hitting it too deep, the tip pounding her cervix at every thrust.

The squelching noise that both of their sexes made overwhelmed their senses, their animalistic groans filled the room. Both couldn’t care less if their neighbors could hear them fucking away.

Their sweats began to mix, everything what they’re doing made them intertwine with one another. Y/n’s wetness was already covering Hobie’s cock, pummeling her has gotten easier and more of his length disappeared in her.

“Shit, mas, Your pussy’s swallowing me. I can’t stop.” Hobie gritted his teeth, being inside her made him addicted.

She felt that familiar urge again, but it was stronger. Hobie’s merciless pummeling edged her closer.

“Hobs,” she whimpered.

“I know, I know love. Cum all over me, make a mess.” He connected his lips to hers, muffling her loud moans as she let herself succumbed to his commands. Her whole body bucked and quiver against his.

Hobie hissed, sensed he was nearing to his end. But he wanted to finish feeling all of her crumbling first, then pulled out. Just barely, spurs of his hot cum landed on her stomach.

It took them a moment, giving them both time to come back to the real world.

Hobie plopped himself on top of her, she didn’t mind the weight. It was rather comforting, feeling him against her.

Hobie placed himself beside her on the bed, pulling her in- not caring they were both buck naked. Ripping off the web on her knotted hands.

She snuggled closer to him, knowing there was no turning back after what they’ve done.

“I know I’ve said I don’t believe in labels and consistency but, I’d prefer to make an exception for you, my love. Only you. I want this to be real for us,” Hobie broke the silence, playing with the strands of her hair and caressing her back.

“You better keep your word, Hobs. I have liked you for quite some time now.” Y/n started to trace her fingers on his chest, savoring each moment they have.

“I think we’ve gone way past using “like” love, doesn’t really match the way you’ve been needing me earlier.” He teases, groping an ass cheek.

#hobie brown #spider man atsv #hobie smut #spider punk #hobie x Reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown fanfic #spider punk fluff #marvel #smut #hobie brown fluff

2K notes · View notes

lis-likes-fics · 7 months

Text

w1sh u were here

Pairings: Hobie Brown x Reader Word Count: 809 words Kink: Sexting Warnings: NSFW, sexting, sending nudes, technically pornography?, swearing, dirty texting... A/N: I lied, I am posting today bc I managed to pull something out of my ass. I hope you enjoyed this short fic bc the hardest thing about this was making all of Hobie's texts. I am a firm believer in Hobie being a terrible texter bc he doesn't commit to one style, and I hate him for it. Enjoy this fluffy smut. <3

hobes: I can’t stop thinking about you, luv.

you: oh yeah? what are you thinking about?

hobes: jus wonderin wut ur wearin 😘

you: your hoodie

hobes: and?

you: nothing.

You sent an image.

hobes: fuck… hobes: You look fuckin amazing in my clothes babe

you: thx bby

hobes: you’d look even better without em tho. Just sayin

you: you tryna get me to send nudes, perv?

hobes: Maybe…😉 hobie: w1sh u were here rn

you: me too

you: what would you do if i was?

hobes: i’d kiss you. a lot. i’d never stop kissing you luv hobes: And, after that, I’d play with your nipples and listen to you start to moan. I’d be so hard for you, sweetheart…

you: yeah?

hobes: yea. id suck on ur tits and feel how wet u were for me.

you: how would you touch me?

hobes: Id put my fingers in your tight pussy, feel you up nice and good, rub at your little clit. hobes: You’d be fucking soaking, I know it. I’d eat you up, darling. hobes: tell me wut u want me to do to u luv

you: everything you said. want you to kiss me, want you to touch me, want your tongue on my tits and your fingers in me.

hobes: want me to eat you up?

you: yes

hobes: I’d make you feel so good. You’d be moaning so loud for me.

you: i wanna ride your face, hobie

hobes: i want you to ride my face

you: guess what?

hobes: wut?

you: i’m touching myself.

hobes: fuck. for me?

you: all for you.

You sent a video. “Fuck, Hobie. Wish you were here…”

hobes: chr1st u sound so pretty when u rub ur cl1t l1ke that

hobes sent a video. “I need your pretty little pussy over here, sweetheart. See what you do to me?”

you: fuck, you’re so hard you: you know what i wanna do?

hobes: Tell me.

you: wanna get on my knees and suck you off.

hobes: yeah?

you: yeah. i wanna feel your hands in my hair when i suck your cock. want you to call me your good girl.

hobes: u r my good girl, babes. ur my best fukn girl.

you: fuck, i’m so wet for you, hobie. wish you were here to touch me. my fingers don’t work as well as yours do…

hobes: Can’t get em far enough? You need my fingers to stretch you out nice and wide?

you: yeah. you: want you to pin me to a wall and fuck me

hobes: fuck youd love that wouldnt you? hobes: I’d pin your hands above your head and kiss you, turn you around and hold onto your beautiful fucking hips. You’d be squirming when I put my cock in you. hobes: Youd be beggin me to fuck you darling and youd be moanin like fuckin crazy for me, Id hold your tits and keep you still while I fucked you from behind and you would scream when you came on my cock. Id just keep fuckin you too hobes: still with me luv?

you: hard to type with one hand

hobes: gonna fucken take you to bed and put your legs on my shoulders. fold you in half while i fucked you babes. you’d be all messy for me.

you: i’m messy for you right now

You sent an image. “Mmm. Ah, I need you, baby. Fuck, m-yeah…”

you: this pussy’s missing you, baby

hobes: this dick’s missing you hobes: I’m gonna cum, sweetheart.

you: me too you: hobie i’m so close.

hobes: will you send me another pic baby?

You sent a video. “Hobie! Hobie, I’m cumming! Fuck, I miss you so much. Ahhh, fuck!”

hobes sent a video. “Fuck. Mm-mmh, fuck. Yeah. Oh, fuck, yeah! Oh, sweetheart.” hobes sent an image.

you: fuck, hobie

hobes sent a voice message. “I love you, sweetheart. Wish you were here so I could show you how much. You make me so happy and you get me so hard, and I can’t wait to see you soon so I can kiss that pretty face you’ve got. Love you so much, darling.”

You sent a voice message. “I love you, too, baby. I can’t wait to see you either because, when I do, I’m kissing you so hard, you’ll pass out.” You sent a voice message. “Get some sleep… I know you have to go to 928 tomorrow, and you’ll come see me after. I’ll be waiting for me. I love you.”

hobes: i luv u 2 bby

you: your typing is atrocious.

hobes: Thank you.

you: goodnight, bayb

hobes: “bayb”

you: shut the fuck up.

hobes: make me 😍

you: you make me sick.

hobes: I love you, too. Night.

you: night. go to sleep now.

hobes: no <3

You changed “hobes” to “hobo”.

hobo: :(

Tag yourself here...

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x reader smut #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x you #hobie brown fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #fanfic #fanficiton #kinktober

630 notes · View notes

pearlsinmyhair · 10 months

Text

★ “love of my life…don’t hurt me.”

- or, hobie confesses to you with music.

“c’mere. i wanna show you something.” murmured hobie’s deep voice from beside you. you pulled back from the stove where you were both flipping pancakes, preparing for a sleep-over at his flat.

you went easily, following him to his room. it was…surprisingly organized today. hobie was a clean person, but his space had a tendency to reflect the deepest most integral parts of his punk-rock persona. anarchy. rebellion. non-conformity.

you sat on his bed as he pulled a record from his collection, placing it onto the player and turning up the volume.

“this reminded me of you.” he said as he laid down beside you on the bed, looking firmly at the ceiling. you pulled your knees up to your chest and listened, curious.

you expected metal, some guitar riff to burst out of the speaker and drums to beat against your ears.

so when the soft playing of a piano and harp rose into the air occupanied by the lulling voice of freddy mercury, you were more than surprised.

‘love of my life…you’ve hurt me.’

you breathed, listening to the lyrics with new ears. because hobie was your friend, your best friend. closer than most to you. your ride or die.

“this is a love song, hobes.” you whispered.

his thigh brushed against your ankle.

“ya…it is.”

oh.

‘when i grow older, i’ll be there at your side…to remind you how i still love you…’

the guitar rose as you turned to look at hobie, who was already watching you.

“i know, it’s real fuckin cheesy, but i figured that if i was gonna tell you, i might at least make it uncovention-“

he didn’t get to finish as you pressed your mouth to his, soft and tentative as you leaned down to him.

the soft sound that came from the back of his throat made you clench your hand in the front of his shirt. his hands found your waist, pulling you down on top of him and then to the side, so that you lay facing each other.

at some point the record moved on to ‘good company’, but you were far too busy focusing on the way hobie moved your leg to rest over his hip so he could pull you even closer.

“you know…” you murmured when you both finally pulled apart for air. “showing someone a song as a confession isn’t exactly unconventional.”

he rolled his eyes, nudging your chin up to press kisses to your throat, slow and soft, relishing you like you would disappear in an instant.

“i know… that song does make me think about you, though. i wasn’t lyin.”

you traced his back as he buried his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder.

you slipped your hand under his shirt, and he shivered. you knew his…work. it was dangerous, and the thought of you getting injured worried him. but you didn’t mind the danger, not when you had him beside you.

“i’m not going anywhere, hobie. especially not now.” you said as you pulled him back up to kiss him again.

he hummed against your mouth, shifting once more so that he hovered over you. wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulled you up against his body, deepening the kiss when you parted your lips for him.

‘love of my life…love of my life…’

hobie’s masterlist

#hobie my beloved #hobie x y/n #hobie x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown fanfic #hobie brown #hobie brown atsv #hobie atsv #atsv x reader

608 notes · View notes

chaussetteblanche · 10 months

Text

"I can't do this anymore,"

pairing : hobie brown x reader summary : you can't put up with being in a relationship with hobie anymore, angst word count : 1.5k warnings : 18+ mentions of smut note : i try to make the reader as neutral as possible so that anyone can read and identify to them ! if you see anything that isn't neutral (gender, skin colour, etc.) please don't hesitate to tell me :)

When you’d first started seeing Hobie, you’d been warned by himself and some of his friends of his… particular tendencies. But you’d thought nothing of it. So what if he liked to get away from time to time? You understood, sometimes the world was too loud even for you. So what if he ghosted people for days on end at some moments? He liked his peace. So what if he would show up at your place battered and bruised? The protests you attended weren’t always peaceful either. You truly hadn’t thought you would mind it. Not one bit.

But then you’d had a breakdown one night. You’d wanted nothing more than his comforting arms around you, his soothing voice telling you that everything was going to be alright. And he had been nowhere to be found. He had vanished off the face of the Earth. And then another time, you got accepted into all the colleges you’d applied for. You were absolutely ecstatic and had rung him up immediately to tell him the good news. Once again, it was as if he wasn’t even on the same planet as you. He'd begged you to come to this one specific show and had been so excited about it, but when you had showed up, he had been nowhere to be seen. You had spent the entire evening alone. The show had been amazing, of course, but it was never the same without Hobie. You had sent him a text one evening, wanting to see if he wanted to grab a bite together the next day and he’d only answered five days later.

Even when he'd shown up at your doorstep and didn't give you time to greet him before he was on you, pushing your body flush against the wall as his hands roamed you, you didn't question it. Not even did you ask about it when he fucked you from behind, shoving his cock into your dripping hole like there was no tomorrow, his eyes glued to the spot where you met, white rings coating his dick. Or when he ate you out like a starved man trying to quench something deep inside him, making you sing and arch your back in the most beautiful way, you'd never asked. Even when he’d crashed through your window one evening, almost ripping your curtains out of the wall and staining your hardwood floor with blood, you had never brought it up again. You’d patched him up the best you could, gave him something to eat, drink, and a place to stay the night, just like you had done all the previous times. The next morning, when you’d started asking questions, he’d told you not to worry about it. About him. But that was easier said than done.

You had been willing to put up with it. Everything. No labels? Sure, of course, no problem. You understood, they were oppressing and made you expect something from the other person. You shared pretty much the same view on society and how it all could be saved, so the rest wasn’t that complicated. That drawer you couldn’t open whatever the reason? No problem, everybody was entitled to some kind of privacy. The music? You weren’t the biggest fan, but that had never been a problem, you were open to new things.

But when everything started to have an impact on you, your well-being, and your mental health, that was where you drew the line. You’d come too far to let yourself be ruined by anybody, even if that person was Hobie Brown. You loved and respected yourself too much to let yourself be destroyed by him. And that was when you knew it had to end. Whatever it had been. It wasn’t fair to you, or to him.

When he’d tapped at the window one evening, you had been slow to open it. He’d crawled inside your room and promptly sat down on the floor, resting against the wall. “Hey, luv,” His voice, although soothing as it always had been, made you tense up. “Are you hurt?” You kneeled next to him and gently took hold of his chin, lifting his face and angling to the side, looking for any kind of injury. He met you with a curious gaze, sensing something was off immediately. He knew you too well. He leaned forward to give you a kiss but you turned your head to the side, making his lips meet your cheek instead. He frowned but didn't comment. “Just a scratch,” he answered, lifting his shirt up to reveal three impressive wounds which almost looked like claw marks. You cussed under your breath and hurried over to the bathroom to pull out a first-aid kit. You dropped to your knees next to him, like you'd done so many times before that you'd become accustomed to the bruises, and started pulling out all the things you would need to treat his wound.

"How did this happen?" you asked quietly as you sprayed some disinfectant on the scratches. He looked past your head, at the poster you had on your wall. Your breathing was shallow. He didn't like when you got worried about him. He preferred your shallow breathing in other situations. "Some pig with really long nails, I guess. I don't remember all of it, honestly, t'all went really fast," You said nothing, your lips pressed together tightly. You knew damn well the wounds he came back with weren't from pigs. Of course, they were violent and sometimes lethal, and you hated them for it, but they didn't leave wounds like this. This wasn't anything human, you were sure of it. "You alright, my love?" Hobie asked after a second. You were concentrated on placing a few butterfly stitches and took a few seconds to answer.

"I can't do this anymore, Hobie," you sighed, sitting back on your ankles. He immediately sat up straighter, worried eyes looking over your face before landing on his wounds. "Oh, I can take it from 'ere, luv, you've already done so well-" "I mean us, Hobes, I can't do this," you motioned between him and you," anymore." He seemed to forget all about his injury and got on his knees, taking hold of your hands. "What do you mean by that?" he asked calmly. You hated how collected he could stay in a moment like this.

"I mean you're clearly lying to me about something. Something big, too. And you can have your reasons, I respect that, but I can't put up with it anymore, it- it's not fair to me." You cursed your voice for trembling. Your insides felt like they were on fire and you wanted nothing more than to cry in his arms. But you couldn't. You had to stay strong. "Why do you think I'm lying to you about something?" "Are you serious?" you scoffed, ripping your hands away from his and standing up. He inhaled sharply, wincing. "You show up at my window battered and bruised, saying it was pigs! You know damn well if they had actually gotten their bloody hands on you, you wouldn't be here to tell the story, and I wouldn't be here, patching you up and keeping my questions to myself, I'd be out in the street marching and screaming your name!" You were pacing around your room now, unable to keep still with the turmoil of emotions inside you. His heavy gaze followed your every movement. Your eyes burned with tears. "So, I don't know what it is, if you're a criminal or a bloody superhero, or if you get some kind of kick out of getting your ass beat, and I don't care, I just can't stand being in the dark!"

Hobie pushed himself to his feet with the help of your windowsill. He wobbled and you steadied him by reflex before pulling away, as if his touch had burned you. You ignored the hurt look on his face and the deep crease in his brows. "And- and even when you're here, with me, I feel like you're not here entirely... Like you're just- out of reach or something. And I can't take it anymore, Hobie. This whole thing, it's too much. I deserve an explanation. Or I deserve better."

You'd never seen that look on his face before. He looked like he was about to be sick. He ran a hand over his face and let out a deep sigh, sitting back down. "You're right, I'm being unfair to you. I was worried about that at first, but you took it like a champ, so I never thought about it again." "Thought about what again?" you pressed, your throat tight. "About what I was making you go through by being with me."

You took a shaky breath, feeling the pit in your stomach growing by the second. "Hobie, is there anything you'd like to tell me?" "Yeah, I think there is."

#hobie x reader #hobart brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk #hobie brown #hobie brown fic #hobie brown fanfic #hobie brown angst

785 notes · View notes

lunatiqez · 11 months

Text

“GUITAR LESSONS” — Hobie Brown x Reader

PAIRING: Hobie Brown x Male!Reader — use of the word “man” and “boy”

GENRE: Platonic

SUMMARY: Hobie teaches you how to play a song from one of your favorite bands.

WORD COUNT: 0.5k

A/N: I’m so so so sorry if this is ooc,, I’m trying to learn more ab Hobie and his character/personality so BEAR W ME!!! Also I wrote this before his official playlist came out and CAN I JUST SAY IM A LITERAL PSYCHIC….God Save the Queen by the Sex Pistols is on there !!!!! Okay this a/n is getting too long oops. Proofread by @lu-vin-it and requested by @srystix !!

YOU WERE LYING IN YOUR BED WHEN YOU got a text from your best friend, Hobie Brown.

HOBIE 🫂

12:54 PM | u coming over td??

12:54 PM | to practice guitar

YOU

12:55 PM | Yeah, what time do you want me to be there?

HOBIE 🫂

12:55 PM | time doesnt matter

12:55 PM | im free whenever

YOU

12:55 PM | K be there in 30

HOBIE 🫂

12:57 PM | 👍

On your way over, you decided to stop for a snack at the gas station. You got your favorite snack for yourself and a preheated slice of pizza for Hobie. Then, you set off to his house.

When you arrived he was in his room, mindlessly strumming his guitar strings.

“Ready?” You asked, wrecking his train of thought.

“Always.” Hobie sits up on his bed and begins playing Locomotive by Mad Season. He’s fairly good at it, but you can tell he’s not happy with the way he plays it just yet. The song is fast paced and seems to need an advanced guitar player for it— the complete opposite of you.

“Uhh, Hobie?” he looks up. “I don’t think I can play Locomotive just yet, it seems…I dunno…a bit out of my league right now?” Hobie lets out a hearty laugh.

“Alright, let’s do somethin’ easier then. How ‘bout God Save the Queen?” He suggests, knowing you absolutely love the Sex Pistols.

“Hell yeah!” You say, grabbing one of Hobie’s many spare guitars. You place your hands accordingly on the guitar frets and wait for his instructions.

“Alright, make sure you tune it right…I think it’s a standard E.” You tune the guitar to a standard E and he nods when he hears the familiar tone.

“Yep, that’s it. Now, it starts off with bar chords, so put your fingers on the fourth and sixth fret. That’ll be the G sharp major bar chord.” You do as you’re told, placing your finger pads on the frets.

“Then, you slide down to the A chord, so go down a fret and strum again in, like, a ‘down, down, up’ motion and then move back up to The G sharp chord.” By this time, you were familiar with the strumming pattern he meant so you did it flawlessly.

He went through the rest of the song slowly with you, making sure you understood what he was saying. He even went through the parts you were getting frustrated on until you got it.

“Alright, you ready to play it all in one go?”

“Uhhh…still not too sure, Hobie.” He sighed.

“You gotta have a little faith in yourself, mate! How are you s’posed to get anywhere in life without believing in yourself??” You brightened up at his encouragement.

“Alright, alright.” You said, trying to avoid a whole lecture on how important it is to believe in yourself. You paused for a moment, going through all the chords in your head before starting.

You played the beginning and Hobie got extremely excited.

“That’s my boy!” He said proudly. After a while of you playing he joined in with you.

Maybe, if he started believing in teams, he’d open up to being in a band.

470 notes · View notes

thelovelylolly · 6 months

Note

Hobie gotta beat a mf up cause they stared being a misogynistic asshole to his girl🙏🏽🙏🏽

Problem?

Summary: You start your dream job as a journalist, only to have a sexist co-worker and your boyfriend won't let that slide. Warnings: a misogynistic man (icky icky), fem! reader (she/her pronouns used), not proof read bc im tired, let me know if i missed anything :) Notes: hobie would NOT let that behavior slide period

You loved your job. It was your dream since middle school to be a journalist at one of the top news companies. It was everything you wanted, and more. You had the freedom to investigate what you wanted, when you wanted. You had control over how your stories looked in the paper and online, and you weren't as censored as other places were. It was perfect, except one thing.

Your co-worker, James, wasn't the most...welcoming to you or your ideas. You preferred stories about everyday people doing good things in your community, or focusing on local and small businesses. He thought that your stories weren't as gripping or enticing as they needed, and told you to try harder.

At first, you thought it was just because you were a new employee. But when his targeted critiques didn't stop, you realized it was something else. He wouldn't say the same things to your male counterparts. He also didn't respect your assistant, a sweet girl who needed a job during college. He treated her like garbage, which pissed you off even more.

You had a meeting with all the journalists to get updated on what everyone was investigating and reporting on. When you stood up and explained what you were doing, a simple piece about a bakery owned by a sweet lady and her girlfriend, James rolled his eyes and leaned over to his buddy to whisper something.

"I'm sorry, James, but I'm talking right now. You whispering is distracting me and getting me off track, I'd appreciate if you'd stop," you said calmly, trying to call him out as well.

He sighed dramatically. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to hurt your precious feelings."

You wanted to slap him, but you took a deep breath and went back to what you were talking about.

----

You kicked your door shut behind you and dropped your things next to it. "Hobie, I'm home!"

You walked into your living room where Hobie was on the couch, tuning his guitar. He looked up and smiled, immediately setting his guitar aside and going over to you.

"Hey, love, how was work?" He asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek and giving you a hug.

You grumbled and hid your face in his neck.

"That bad, huh?"

You pulled away from him, pacing up and down the room. "It's my god damn co-worker! He doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut! All he does is criticize me and belittle me, along with the other women in the office, but not with the guys! That sexist piece of shit! It's just...I hate it and I can't do anything with causing a HR nightmare, and I don't wanna lose this job, Hobie. It means so much to me and I…I just can’t lose it.”

You stop and wipe the frustrated tears that had slipped down your cheeks. You look at Hobie and give him a wobbly smile. “‘M sorry, didn’t mean to explode on you like that.”

“Don’t apologize, babe. You’re frustrated, I get it,” he replied, walking over to you and running his hands up and down your arms soothingly. “How ‘bout we order your favorite take out, yeah?”

“And we can watch my favorite movie?”

“Anything you want, love.”

----

On his patrol as Spider-Man, Hobie kept his eye out for your…problematic co-worker. He didn’t know what the guy looked like, but he could figure it out. He swung by your office and took a look inside.

There was only two people left, a man and a woman. He was at his desk, sipping some drink and yelling at the poor woman who was just trying to organize some files. He eyed her like a piece of candy and yelled at her for putting the papers in the wrong place. Then, he stood up and grabbed his things before heading to the door.

Bingo.

Hobie swung down to the front doors of the building and waited for the man to walk out. A few minutes later, the man strolled out on the phone.

“Exactly, Tim. I don’t get why she got hired. She just does some stories with zero…what’s the word, content to them? I don’t know, it’s just a matter of time until she gets hit with reality. She even had the nerve to stand up to me-“

“Pardon me, mate,” Hobie said, catching the man’s attention.

The man froze at the sight of Spider-Man, hanging up the phone. Hobie glanced at his badge and saw his name.

“James, is it? Well, I heard you were giving the women you work with some grief.”

“W-what do you want?” James stuttered.

Hobie started to back him into a corner. “You know how Spider-Man believes in…fairness and what not?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Well, I believe your attitude isn’t very fair to your co-workers.”

“Listen, man, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I-“

Hobie didn’t let him finish, giving him a shove back to cut him off.

“Consider this your warning, James,” Hobie said in a low tone. “Stay away from my girl, and you won’t see me again.”

With that, he swung away, leaving James shaking like a leaf.

----

The next day, when you got home from work, you immediately went to Hobie. He was in the kitchen, fixing some dinner for the two of you.

“Hey, babe, how was work?” He asked, putting his spoon down and going to you to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“It was…good. James didn’t bother me at all, or any of the girls, actually. It was weird, but I’m not complaining.”

Hobie hummed and went back to his cooking. You tilted your head to the side, confused at his reaction. You hopped up onto the counter next to where he was working.

“Hobie…did you do something?” You asked.

“What? Nah, I don’t even know this guy,” he answered.

"Hm, okay," you said. You hopped off the counter, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and went to get changed.

Hobie smiled to himself, knowing that James wouldn't mess with you anymore.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk fanfiction #spider punk fanfic

308 notes · View notes

eternalslover · 11 months

Text

Can someone please tell me is Hobie Brown pronounced

258 notes · View notes

junewritesstuff · 10 months

Text

watching movies w/ hobie!! ✧.*

pairing: hobie brown x gn!reader

cw/tws: none!

a/n: headcanon style, established relationship, reader and hobie live in an apartment/flat/wherever u want together

he's very big on physical touch when watching something together. his favorite is when you have your head in his lap and he gently runs his fingers through your hair

he really enjoys horror movies!! if youre someone that gets scared easily he wont hesitate to hold you in his arms to ease your fear

if hes really into the movie/show, he will verbally react. he will laugh, gasp, yell, anything to show his opinion on what’s happening

if he comes home late at night to you watching something on tv, he’ll promptly join you until one or both of you fall asleep

might write a lil drabble on this idea in the future but this is it for now!! also my reqs are open :)

199 notes · View notes

bloomingdog · 9 months

Text

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 — 𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

data: your basic florist au, bit of angst, identity reveal, all that stuff. 4k words, no use of Y/N.

You know him, you know what the looks like at the very least. Once a week—the day never stays the same—him and a group of other instrument-carrying people go into the small venue in front of your shop at nine in the evening, an hour after closing the shop, when you’re about to head home. One early morning, out of curiosity, you checked the schedules adhered and covering the roller shutter in a poor attempt to find who this mysterious guy was. You found no useful information in that regard, you did foind, however, that the club opened at ten and most concerts held there started at least half an hour later. With that new gathered intel your best guess was that they came early to get everything set or a rather quick sound-check.

The venue is on one of the corners that limit the four way pedestrian crossing, the two corners on either side both hold pubs, and diagonally there’s you. “For the Roses” is a name given by its old owner, a sweet lady—and Joni Mitchell fan—you had worked for since you were seventeen, and four years later she had decided it was time to retire. For the last five months it’s been just you, it was easier to take care of it when you were two people working, that much is true, but having to close the shop has given you staring privileges. Years ago, when you first started working here the placement of the shop seemed rather odd, between clubs, pubs and the many other forms of amusement, this, however, was a strategical position. A big part of the clientele consisted of repenting boyfriends and enamoured halves of a first date, and they kept the business afloat.

You recognise him the moment he walks in.

“Hello! How may I help you?” The clock ticks away the last minutes before closing as you try to put on your cheeriest voice.

“Hi, sorry about comin’ in so late. My mate’s playing a gig, I just want some flowers to throw on stage, whole dramatics and all.” His voice is smooth with only the slightest rasp to it. He’s a fun last client.

“Do you want the classic roses then?”

“Nah don’t bother, give me the leftovers.” There are one or two extra cuttings and a bouquet that never got picked up you wouldn’t mind getting rid of.

You excuse yourself to pick out the best leftover flowers you could in an attempt to make a half-decent bouquet. He’s oggling your shop, he’s particularly eye-catching inside your light coloured, slightly old-fashioned establishment. He likes it there, it’s cosy, the floors are filled with different types of flower arrengements and the walls display an amalgamation of different decorations gathered throughout the years, his inspection is only interrupted by your coming back behind the counter.

“Here, I tried to make it as cohesive as I could.”

“It’s alright, love, it’s gonna get thrown anyway.” Oh, that pet name went straight to your chest.

“It felt unprofessional not to give you at least a small sample of my usual, better, quality.” He gave a side smile as a response.

“How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house, no worries, I wouldn’t make you pay for only scraps.”

“That’s quite nice, take this as a tip, then.” He slid a twenty pound note on the counter, right before turning around a saying his goodbyes with a single wave of his hands.

Spinning the sign at the glass door so it reads “Closed” you turn to sweeping the floor and leaving your workplace as neat as possible, you hum along to the song playing from your phone on the counter. The 20 dollars he gave you felt a bit too much, not that you’re going to complain, not with the cost of everything, a flower shop isn’t a luxurious job to have, so it’s much appreciated.

Drawing the curtain-like metal you spot a group of people walking into the club, one of them must be his friend.

A mere day later, he’s back, making the dainty bells above the door chime.

“Hello! Got another show you need to throw flowers at?” You quip and he chuckles.

“Nah. Only wanted to get actual flowers to have a good reason to ask you out.” He’s confident, maybe overly so, and Hobie is well aware of that, it’s not often that his confidence fails him, though. You look surprised before laughing, it’s ridiculous.

“And what were you thinking of getting?”

“I was hoping you could recommend me something.”

“Roses are usually the go-to flower, although I much prefer freesias.”

“Sick, I’d like a single freesia, please.” He says it in an overly polite manner, the whole situation is laughable.

“That’ll be two pounds.” You say as you hand him the flower.

“Here you go.” You mutter a thank you for an answer. “My band’s playing tonight, at ten, just on the other street, you could come and we could get a drink after.”

No way you’re attending a club on a Wednesday night, with a stranger nonetheless.

“Sure.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you. My name’s Hobie by the way.”

And it sounds like proper fun, really.

You’ve managed to avoid the biggest wave of people going home during rush hour and, thankfully, your ride home is as pleasant as the tube allows it to be and yet, you’re restless. His invite plays around in your mind. He’s handsome, that’s for sure, and it would satiate your curiosity on the other side it would also make you tired for work the next day, you’re too old for that, you think and softly laugh at your own joke. The walk home gives you time to ponder on wasted opportunities and the best years of your life, your flat instead greets you with the promise of a reheated dinner and an eight-hour-long sleep which for a moment makes you think about ditching him.

The commute back feels longer than it usually does. You ate in a rush and got ready far too fast after your flatmate complained about needing to use the bathroom. Your phone marks 10:05PM, fashionably late. You’re thankful the show hasn’t started by the time you sit by the bar, ordering a beer. You still haven’t decided if it’s brave or cocky to ask someone out to your own show.

The whirring of a guitar being plugged signals the beginning of the show.

“Hello, we’re The Spider-Slayers! One two three!” Is your only warning before they start playing. They’re quite good, you have to admit, Hobie, as you’ve recently learned he’s named, exudes power and confidence while on stage, he’s rather skilled. It’s enjoyable, half of the audience is too plastered—it's only ten in the evening—to pay attention to the actual music and are merely glad to have a loud noise playing for them, but they’re well-liked, no doubt an established part of the community. It passes faster than you had anticipated, not even an hour later he’s walking your way while another band prepares to play.

He’s sweaty as he sits down and orders a rum and coke, he looks at you questioning if you also want one. “Make it two.” He indicates the bartender. “Did you like it?”

He’s tall but not intimidating in the slightest, the metal in his face a contrast to all of his warm side smiles.

“Yes!” You’re quick to answer. “It was really nice, you guys are good.” He fully smiles at the compliment, he’s got a pretty smile.

“Thanks. I forgot to ask your name earlier, sorry about that.”

“No worries, it’s Y/N.”

“Pretty.” It’s flirty.

“Did your mate like the flowers?” You ask as the man behind the bar hands you your drinks.

“Totally, made a mess on stage and everything. She was grateful, seriously, funny and praising in equal parts, the bouquet was beautiful too, such a shame it ended like that.” You laugh at that. “How’s it working at a flower shop?”

“Good, actually, better than one good expect, I’d say it’s one of the better retail jobs out there.”

“Seems hard.”

“It is at the beginning, you should’ve seen some of my first arrangements, they were bloody awful, I’m still wondering how we didn’t get any complaints.” It’s Hobie’s turn to laugh.

“You’ve made some improvement then, your shop’s beautiful.” You beam and thank him, you’re proud of the way it’s looking these days. “How’d you end up working there? Do you need a degree to be a florist?”

“Not really, no. I’ve taken a couple courses but for the most part I was trained by my old boss.”

“Hm.” He nods. “Strange place to set up a flower shop, innit? I see you closing all the time and wonder who in their right mind would think of opening it at a nightlife epicenter.” Good to know you’re not the only observer.

“You’d think so! We get a lot of our clientele thanks to that, not all flower shops open until eight either way. Flowers make both great apologies and gifts, you can only imagine the kind of people who walk in there.”

“What, like me?”

“No way, I’d put you in the normal bunch.” He quirks an eyebrow, an invitation to tell him more about yourself. And that you do. You talk for the two hours that the club remains open, he’s fun, you’re both chatty, you’ve got a multitude of things in common, he tells you about his bandmates, you exchange numbers, he’s a cat person by the way.

“You want me to walk you home?” The underground closed an hour ago, it wasn’t that big of a trek to your place, you could say yes if not for the stranger—acquaintance—danger middle school talks flashing in your memory. The bus, though taking longer than the tube, was still an option.

“It’s fine, really. I’d rather take the bus.”

“Got it, I can wait with you if you’d like.” Yeah, yeah, you’d like that. The two of you walk close to each other to the nearest stop. The pavement is damp, it gives you another reason to be glad that you wore your trusty old, slightly dirty, converse instead of a more sophisticated option.

“Thank you for inviting me, I had a nice time, you’re fun.”

“So are you, love.” How could an overused term like that have such a big effect on you when he says it remains a mystery.

You sit in a comfortable silence until the right bus gets there and as you bid your goodbyes you’re unable to contain the big smile you give him, blame it on the drinks. You send him a quick text noticing him that you got home safe and sound before falling into deep sleep.

Your phone rings and vibrates from the bedside table, it always goes off at the same time and yet today it manages to scare you awake. The trip to the bathroom and coffee making is accompanied by a string of curses: music, bad choices, the opening hours of your business and pretty boys all fall victim to your vulgarities. The lack of proper sleep makes your day go by twice as slowly, nodding off and almost missing your stop and doomscrolling during work hours to pass the time, even turning to reading an article from The Daily Bugle, it’s laughable, it’s says something something Spider-Man, something juvenile delinquent something menace for the city.

The chime of little bells half an hour before closing wakes you up better than your alarm had done earlier in the day. Looking up from your phone you spot the same bright eyes and confident stroll that kept you company last night.

“You need to stop coming in right before closing.” You scold him. You’re confident he’s aware that it’s an invitation for him to keep showing up.

“My bad. Do you like food?”

“I-What?” Indeed, what? “I like food, yes.”

“Peng. You want to grab dinner?” And he also needs to stop proposing last-minute plans.

“Where?”

“What do you fancy?”

“Thai?”

“Sure.”

“I close in half an hour, you can stay here if you want.” Not that you’re expecting any more costumers.

He asks if he can help with anything and you hand him the broom and dustpan that hangs in the back of the shop, he laughs and takes it as payment for having you get out earlier. The floors aren’t dirty per se, it’s mostly leaves and bits of cutting that have fallen. He sweeps while you get everything ready for tomorrow and put away what’s been used today. Half an hour later you hang your work apron and close the shutters.

There’s a nice restaurant a couple blocks away you’ve got food to-go from before. You order a spicy noodle soup, khanom jeen nam ngiaw, and he settles for stir-fry noodles. It’s good, warm and comforting, you take a bite from his plate and he follows suit with a spoonful of your broth. The conversation picked up while cleaning and it has yet to die down, he tells you about his hobbies—you can't help to make fun of him by saying Hobie's hobbies—and you share your love for museums with him, ‘We should visit one.’ he says to which you agree in excitement.

You don’t let go of his hand until your bedroom door is closed and you softly push him into bed. Taking only a short break to take off both of your shoes you don’t waist time in straddling him, his hands on your hips as you return to kissing. Soft moans mark the tempo for your exploring hands and you stare at his bare abdomen with much less shame than you think you should have. His hands are slightly calloused and scarred, it doesn’t matter with how skilled they are. It feels like you’re drowning in him, you hope he feels half as good as he’s making you feel, if his breathless mutters of ‘fuck’ and ‘good girl’ are any indicator you can pat yourself on the back after it’s over.

The dinner is paid for, the night chilly compared to the warmth inside the restaurant. He offers to walk you home again, this time you agree because you’re no longer strangers, right? You make it half of the way before puts his hand on your lower back, you don’t make an effort to move it, it’s comfortable.

You make it three quarters of the way until you start kissing, your back against the wall of a mildly busy street, you feel like a horny teenager. You climb up the stairs to your flat two-steps at a time, your hand holding his and praying that your flatmate has confined herself to her room so you don’t have to introduce one to the other, not right now at least.

The morning after your alarm not only scares you awake but it also makes him sit up in bed with a jolt.

“Sorry.” Sleep is still evident in your voice.

“S’okay.” He replies before giving you a chaste kiss on the lips, you don’t think either of you wants to deal with each other’s morning breath, it’s a tad early for that.

You offer him breakfast. Your flatmate has left for work but she won’t forgive you if you don’t tell her of last night’s events. At least it won’t make this morning awkward, or more awkward than it already is, it happens with first breakfasts: sleepy, a mess, cranky from waking up, it’s not anyone’s best look.

You take the underground while he chooses to walk home, it’s not crazy far away from yours, apparently. In the meantime, the work day is spent looking up frantically every time the bells over your door chime, hoping that it will be him at some point. He does come over, at ten past eight, and he has to knock on the door to catch your attention. Your strange arrangement goes on for the better part of the next two months, he comes over when you’re about to close, you eat together multiple times per week, he’s quite a skilled at making exactly seven different dishes, he invites you to his shows and you’ve met his bandmates, you’ve had every cliché date imaginable: the park, the cinema, the natural history museum, markets, the full deal. You don’t call them dates though, you’re not a couple even with all the kissing and sleeping together—literally and figuratively—he’s told you he doesn’t like labels, but he’s being exclusive with you so you’re okay with it.

He shows up with little cuts and bruises, you attributed to being clumsy at first but it’s become more common lately, he excuses it as a protest that went south, a moshpit or just a friendly scuffle with his mates. It doesn’t ease your nerves. But you're soon to forget all about it once you’re outside, walking hand in hand and sharing headphones, he’s incorporated bits and pieces of your music to his playlist and he makes sure to show you the songs he thinks you’ll like first than anything.

Your phone lights up with a text notification from Hobie, he’s coming over soon. It shouldn’t be, but it reads as ominous, he doesn’t usually tell you in advance and would rather showing up unannounced.

“Hey pet.” He greets, it’s his latest nickname for you, you’ve always thought it ridiculous but he’s making you grow fond of it.

“Hi Bee” An animal-related nickname you gave him after he tried calling you ‘duck’ that has stuck. “You want to do something or should we head home?”

“Home’s fine, I’m tired.” It’s fair, he’s always running around doing things, you’re okay with a night in.

He sweeps the floor, it’s his assigned task, you feel bad but he says he doesn’t mind and likes helping you. The ride back to your place is quieter than usual, he seems pensive. You’re about to open the door to your building when you notice him stuck a meter away.

“Are you okay?” Your heart is picking up speed.

“Listen, love.” Oh no. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to come up.” You’re on the second and final step of the stairway while he’s at ground level, he looks smaller than he’s ever been. “I’ve had a lot of fun, really, but I don’t think I can go on with our thing, you know? I’m not good at commitment anyway.” Your lack of a response get’s him speaking again. “I’m truly sorry, I just don’t wanna go on with this and end up hurtin’ you.”

“Okay.” Is the only thing your brain is able to formulate.

“Okay.” He replies. “I’ll be leaving now.” He says as he kisses your temple, turning around and giving you a single wave of the hand for a goodbye.

You feel the tears beginning to fill up your eyes, your vision blurry, at least you were able to hold them until he left, it’s already embarrassing as it is. You don’t bother re-heating dinner that night, choosing to go straight to bed and waking up with puffy eyes in the morning. For the first time in a while you’re sure you won’t have any visits at work, it’s terrible. You feel stupid. He told you enough about himself to know that the two of you weren’t in for a long-term relationship and still you held onto some sort of hope of being an exception.

That was two weeks ago. You’ve seen him two times since, while leaving for home. He waves your way and you wave back, out of politeness more than anything. Two weeks of radio silence that break your established routine and fill you with a sense of expectation during the last hours of work.

It’s nine-twenty on a Sunday, it’s usual for you to stay until late at the end of your work week, Hobie knew that and would make sure to keep you company and take you home those days. The early November weather has made it so it’s already been dark for hours, the city is rather calm, you don’t suppose there’s much to do on a cold November night. A series of knocks on the door alerts you of the presence of someone outside, it startles you as you hold the broom you were using against your chest.

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight outside the door. Spider-Man was doubling down and leaning against the glass of your shopfront, electric guitar strapped across him and hanging in his back, clad in his usual metal decorations while his suit had been torn. You let him in a hurry, it’s not ideal to have an idol of the working class dead on your welcome mat. He limps to the back of the shop, in your current state of panic you don’t stop to wonder how he knows the way so well, until he’s sitting on the floor and leaning against one of the walls, guitar forgotten besides him. You follow him and crouch at his side just in time for him to take off his mask.

“Fuck off.”

“Hi pet.”

You were so excited to be done with work and head home to watch a film, lucky for you, your ex-situationship still has a habit of coming in right before you leave.

“Bloody hell Hobie.”

“Please don’t be shocked right now, we can talk about it tomorrow.” He can’t be serious. “I’m knackered.” I wonder why, you think. He looks like proper shit.

“Hobie you’re bleeding.” You’re trying your best to be helpful and not panic.

“It’s fine love, it’ll heal in no time, I kinda have superpowers.” You’re choosing to ignore that and get up to retrieve your first aid kit, it’s far too basic to be useful right now, only equipped to help with cuts and minor injuries.

You can feel his eyes on you and your whole body is shaking as you kneel by his side. You try your best to keep your hands steady while pouring rubbing alcohol into a cotton pad.

“You don’t have to, I’ll be fine.”

“Let me clean it, please, so it doesn’t get infected.” He lets you, wincing at the alcohol making contact with his open injuries. He knows you're doing it more for yourself than him. “Sorry.” He shakes his head as a way of saying ‘no worries’.

You reach for his face with your bare hand once you’ve considered him clean enough, you cradle his cheek and can’t hold your tears from spilling.

“This is why I cut thing off with you, you know? Don’t wan’ you getting hurt.”

“I don’t care.”

“Don’t say that.” He pleads.

“What about you getting hurt? Does that not matter?” He laughs and winces right after.

“You’re a sweet thing. I don’t have a choice but you do.”

“And what if my choice is to stand by your side?”

“You can’t.”

“Yes I do!” You’re reaching tour breaking point and can’t help but raise your voice. “I didn’t know I loved you as much as I do until these last weeks without you. It’s been torture.”

“It’s been torture for me too.” His words soften you, and it’s only then you realize what you said, you don’t dare acknowledge them, maybe he didn’t notice or the head trauma will make him forget it.

You’re crying now and it feels awful because you should be the one comforting him, he’s hurt not you. He holds you as you shake and places a kiss to your head.

“Can we sleep here?” He asks once you’ve calmed down. The tile floor is anything but comfortable and still you nod yes.

You fix a make-shift bed consisting of your bunched up jumper and apron for pillows and your big coat, that barely covers his upper body, for a blanket. Not that it matters, you chose to turn the radiator up and it’s hard to get cold while curled up to a human heater. You’re careful while laying with him, both out of fear of hurting him and prudence of this hurting you even more. He doesn’t care and brings you closer, your head on his chest and his hand drawing shapes on your back over your clothes, you can’t help but worry about the state of his back in the morning.

You find sleep easier than you have since your “break-up”, his rhythmic breathing lulls you and his caresses calm you down. You’re in the before-falling-asleep-limbo when you hear his voice, he says “I love you too” like a confession secret, you’re not sure if you were even supposed to hear it. It’s too late for you to react, his words mix with the beginning of your dreams into a spiralling nonsense.

🕷 i really enjoyed writing this! i was thinking of maybe doing a part 2? tell me your thoughts if you dont mind too! i haven't written anything that isnt academic in years and i feel rusty

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie brown fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown drabble #hobie brown blurb #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk x y/n #florist au #atsv x reader #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown angst #hobie brown x fem!reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x you #spiderpunk x y/n

297 notes · View notes

babyboiboyega · 9 months

Text

Short on Time (Hobie Brown x F!Reader)

Hobie Brown x f!reader

Summary: Hobie has a weird way of convincing you to sneak out to the roof despite your roommate being home…

Word Count: 7.3k

Content: nothing but fluff, the very real and very apparent fact that I have an unhealthy obsession with this man, Hobie being an incredibly loveable and hilarious menace, horrible cockney/british slang, a bit of profanity, some rough writing bc it’s been a while

Inspo: All I Wanted - Paramore (paramore never misses)

A/N: heyyyy! Enjoy this Hobie Brown oneshot that took me too long to complete but I absolutely loved writing <3

TAGLIST FORM

The sunset lamp in the corner of your room cast varying hues of purple and blue across the walls of the room, bouncing off of the numerous glass trays and items dotted throughout it. It provided a good backdrop for a night of nothing but deep breaths, slowed thoughts, and mere relaxation- and you were adamant about experiencing all of those and more of the same sentiment.

It was just…a little hard to do so when the sounds of unhinged and drunken laughter floated from your shared living room and right through your door, effectively putting your plans of relaxation on hold.

After an entire week of completing assignments and dealing with people who were less-than-pleasant, lacked common sense, and just made everything harder, all you wanted to do was something that required minimal thinking and produced the most amounts of serotonin; But it seemed as if that would be next to impossible.

You dropped your head onto the wooden surface of your desk, your third groan in the last 10 minutes leaving your mouth and joining another chorus of laughter from the living room. Your eyes closed tightly while you blindly reached for your phone, intent on turning your music to the max volume. Your roommate and her friend would be able to hear it, and your neighbors would be able to feel it, but you were desperate. That desperation only grew as your fingers closed around nothing but air.

With furrowed eyebrows, you lifted your head and look to the spot where you could’ve sworn you put it-

“You’ve got an ace personality, love, but rubbish taste in music.”

The voice was as familiar as ever, but the suddenness of it appearing in your room made you jump slightly, your body rocking back in your chair. Your mouth opened on a yelp as you felt the front two legs of your chair lift off of the ground, and just as your arms instinctively reached out to grab onto something, you felt a slight push to the back of your chair.

“Jesus-!”

“Far from it, actually.” You heard the amusement in Hobie’s voice before you turned to face him, your heart beating rapidly because of his sudden appearance…and because of him in general.

His smile was familiar, as was his tendency to just show up at your window…or in your room, as was the case tonight. Despite knowing that he could just pop up at any time, there were still a number of times when he had managed to sneak up on you.

Your room seemed smaller as his lanky frame walked further in, his eyes focused on your phone in his hand as he continued to hit the skip button. With furrowed eyebrows and a breath of exasperation, you stood up, quickly reaching for your phone only for his arm to raise.

“Not you breaking into my room and insulting my music taste- all in one night. Hobie, gimme my-”

“Now, wait a minute, love, you know I’m only jokin’.” He replied, his smile widening as he watched amusedly while you raised yourself in an attempt to grab your phone. It was no use, as he effortlessly towered over you, and judging by the smile on his face, he was enjoying the sight.

“This the playlist we listened to ‘round last week, yeah?”

Your movements paused at the mention of the playlist currently pulled up on your phone, and at the memory of you two sitting in the same room the week before, listening to the same music. It had been a rather uneventful day for Hobie, or Spider-Man, but your day had been the exact opposite: hectic and so busy that you’d had no energy to do anything but sit at the head of your bed and talk with him about any and everything- at least until you had fallen asleep, propped up against your headboard, your head tilted back.

That had been last week and since then, you hadn’t seen the lanky, eccentric man. Well, you had seen him on the news and on the internet, but only as Spider-Man; you had seen him enough times to know that the reason for his lack of visits was because of his ‘job’ as the city’s mostly friendly, ‘take no shit’ Spider-Man.

But now he was here, and his presence was already making up for those days you had gone without being able to see him.

“The same one, yes. Why? You tellin’ me I converted you to neo-soul?” Your eyebrow raised as you finally gave up on trying to get your phone, your arms falling only to cross in front of your chest. The corner of your mouth lifted into a knowing smile as you watched his eyes scan the screen of your phone while the next song played. His lips pursed slightly as his eyes met yours.

“I’m tellin’ you…that you could have worse taste.”

It was slightly laughable knowing that even if he had liked a few songs from the playlist, he’d make sure to keep it to himself…at least as a facade. Despite his very different taste in music, there had been a few songs that he had listened to simply because you had asked him to, and he’d had no problem letting you know that he had liked them. But occasionally, he liked to put on the ‘my music is better’ facade, and you entertained it every time.

“You didn’t even say hey to me or nothin’; just came in being a straight menace.”

A laugh left his mouth as he finally handed your phone back to you, a song that he had previously stated was ‘okay’ coincidentally playing through your speakers. You didn’t make a move to change it. In fact, your phone was all but forgotten as he gazed down at you, an easygoing smile on his face.

“You sure about that? I could’ve sworn I said hi when I got here-”

“No, you did not, and you know you didn’t-”

A peal of laughter floated through your bedroom door, and it only served as a reminder of the night’s events leading up to this point. Your shoulders sagged slightly at the sound, and only sagged more as you internally chastised yourself.

It wasn’t your roommate's fault that you’d had a shitty week and couldn’t seem to relax, and you couldn’t exactly be mad that they were having fun and enjoying their Friday night…

They could be a little quieter though.

Hobie could see it as clear as day on your face, your internal struggle and frustration. It made his smile drop slightly, though it still remained in place and only softened in response. His lanky frame sat on the edge of your windowsill, his legs extending straight in front of him and his arms crossing. His posture expressed nonchalance- indifference, even; but his eyes and his expression showed exactly how attentive he was when it came to you.

“You look rather brassed off. Wanna talk about it?”

Did you want to talk about it? Or would you rather indulge in Hobie’s regular antics in an effort to forget about your own list of shortcomings spanning the week? On one hand, you’d never grow tired of his random tales of breaking past riot police’s defenses or interrupting the most recent, half-assed charity speech done by a corrupt politician. Each account would end with you slightly chastising him for doing something that bordered the definition of dangerous, and each time, he’d only respond with a cheeky grin and a not-so-subtle attempt at changing the subject. Regardless of how many times it happened, you still couldn’t deny the fact that you loved every single one of your conversations.

“Nah. ‘S just the regular.” You start, joining him on the windowsill with a sigh. It wasn’t lost on you that with only a glance, Hobie knew the state of mind you were in; this time was only a reminder that he possessed that ability, as he had done it multiple times before. He had a talent for exuding the chillest, most indifferent demeanor, but when it had come down to it, he had been there when you needed him. Now was no different.

Instead of leaving your answer as it was, he simply turned towards you, resting his back against the window sill and raising an eyebrow in your direction. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at you, his lips pursing as he took in the look on your face. It spoke volumes, as did the look in his eyes. It was the look of someone calling another person’s bluff without any hesitation whatsoever, and seeing it on his face had you smacking your teeth in resignation. You still refrained from continuing.

“You don’t have to tell me, love,” he starts, bending his knee and setting his foot on the windowsill. His hands fidget with something- an object- that he was able to pull out of his pocket between one second and the next, though his eyes stay focused on you.

“But, it was you who once told me that I was an ace listener…”

He ends the sentence with a shrug of his shoulders; though, judging by the small grin curving his lips, it's apparent that while his words are said in jest, they still hold meaning behind them. You know as much, because you _do _remember telling him how he was rather easy to talk to. The words, no matter how serious or casual they were, always flowed easily whenever you were in Hobie’s presence. And now was no different.

A heavy breath left your mouth as you mimicked his position, leaning your head against the windowsill and bringing your knee up to bend in the space between you two. Your hands fiddled with a loose thread hanging from the shorts adorning your legs while your eyes flickered from his to the window that he only crawled through a few minutes ago.

“Actually…”

“Here we go.” The rumble of his voice blended seamlessly with the music coming from your speakers and the little bit of comfort it brought made your lips loosen to let out your account of your week, starting from the beginning.

During the entire recount, Hobie only interjected to offer his own commentary - usually containing weird, cockney insults for the people you described; but aside from that, he sat and listened. Well, that wasn’t exactly true.

His tendency to keep the air surrounding the both of you lighthearted showed itself whenever you seemed to be growing irritated just from recounting the details, and he reminded you of this tendency by methodically and gradually taking off his bracelets and rings, and transferring them to your wrists. As you continued talking, your wrists and fingers had taken on a bit of weight from the metal and leather of his jewelry, though it didn’t stop you from gesturing as you spoke. As soon as he was done with one hand, you’d take it back and use it to gesture while placing your other in his. Now there was just the occasional clink as the rings that fit his fingers perfectly but were a little too big for yours knocked into each other. It only resulted in him taking your hand and sliding the rings back onto your finger should they look close to falling off.

Had it been a month earlier, you would’ve gaped at the physical affection. It was something small, and something you suspected he did absentmindedly; but the fact remained that he hadn’t always been this comfortable around you. There was a time in you two’s… friendship (?) when you wouldn’t even contemplate unloading your problems onto him under the guise of not wanting to bother him when in reality, it had been an attempt of keeping him around longer. The last thing you had wanted was to run him away with your- in your words- constant nagging, complaining, and non-stop talking.

You could vividly remember the face he made the day you had explained that to him. He had called you ‘silly’ in the nicest way possible before laughing loudly. Ever since then, he had made it a point to remind you that while he was constantly busy saving civilians and the city, there would always be time for you and him to sit and just talk to one another. He’d kept to that promise since then.

By the end of your series of misfortunate events, you wore one of his black, spiked bracelets, and 3 of his rings that knocked against each other as you settled your hands in your lap with a sigh.

“So, that’s how my week went.”

What followed was a few seconds of silence, broken only by the soft music emanating from your speaker, though it wasn’t long before the sound of more shrill laughter joined the noise. Another sigh, a heavier one, left your mouth as you let your head thump against the windowsill behind you.

“And I came home, just…knowing that I’d be able to chill, relax, get my mind off of the week, but my roommate has her friend over and they’re hellbent on drinking as much as they can and speaking as loud as they can tonight. And I can’t even be mad at ‘em!”

A sharp, almost hollow laugh left your lips as you shook your head, your eyes turning to the view on the other side of your window. The city was wide awake, and as much was clear by the various sounds that usually accompanied living in the city. Closer to the center of the city, there seemed to be some kind of event going on, as the dark sky was cut through with bright lights that waved as if wanting to draw everyone’s attention to it.

Probably some event for the top 1% to go to and pat themselves on the backs for the ‘good deeds’ they had done for the city; the ‘good deeds’ that only seemed to help those they deemed worthy of it.

Goddamn…Hobie’s rubbing off on me.

Hobie’s narrowed eyes and slightly pursed lips were the only responses you received at first. While your fingers fidgeted lightly with the rings adorning your fingers, he simply gazed at you… then he was swinging his leg through your window to the fire escape.

You watched in confusion as he stood on the other side of your window, motioning for you to join him with a smirk that not only made your heart quicken but also made your confusion and curiosity grow. Your eyebrow raised in question.

“Stop being so skeptical- we’re just going to the roof.”

You gawked at him slightly, your eyes widening and your head tilting. He had said the words with a lighthearted sigh and a roll of his eyes.

“The roof? You said that like it's a normal occurrence for us to go to the roof- the hell we going to the roof for?”

“Well, it’d be a normal occurrence if you weren’t boring, love-”

“Hobie…why are we going to the roof?” You repeated the question, standing and turning to where he stood outside your window. It was easy to ignore the jab; the lightheartedness and teasing in his tone told you that he hadn’t meant them. But that didn’t stop your wariness from growing.

“You trust me, right?”

The words were simple. 4 words said with a lopsided smirk and a twinkle in his eye that was so uniquely Hobie Brown you couldn’t imagine finding it in anyone else’s eyes, no matter how many variants of him existed, as he had once told you.

They were simply words, but your answer to the question was so much more.

Of course, I trust you. I honestly don’t know if I trust anyone else as much as I trust you. And I don’t think it's because you’re Spider-Man. It's definitely because you somehow know exactly what to say and what I need to hear even when I don’t. Its also because I can’t go a damn second without thinking about you or your voice or your laugh or your eyes-

“Of course, I do…but I feel like you’re about to give me a reason not to.”

The laugh that left his mouth admittedly made a smile of your own appear on your face. It was loud, and it sounded as if it…belonged in your space. You certainly thought it belonged in your space, as well as thinking that you’d like to hear it more.

“Now why would I do that? Just wanna show you somethin’, love. ‘S all.”

This time, your look of contemplation was purely for show, as you had already decided to indulge in this little ‘surprise’ of his. There was only one obstacle. Or more like two.

“I can’t exactly walk out and just say I’m goin’ to the roof.” You motioned to your door, and the sound of your roommate and her friend’s laughter almost ironically emphasized your statement. “They’ll have at least 5 questions - each, and then they’ll probably even follow me up there. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not have them walking up on me just speaking to Spider-Man.”

Exasperation appeared on his face in response to your words, and when he spoke, his hand gestured between the two of you.

“Who said anythin’ about them seein’ you?”

If possible, the mischief in his eyes grew, as did the smirk on his face. It was only when he reached a hand through the window towards you, your lights subtly catching the web slingers on his wrists that you understood what he was alluding to, and it made you immediately shake your head.

“You deadass?”

“I’m deadass, love.”

“You can’t be deadass.”

“You know I won’t drop you! You just said you trusted me-!”

Laughter coated his words as he watched you quickly stand up, your head shaking adamantly.

You did trust Hobie, there’s no question about it. But being more than 10 feet off of the ground and relying on nothing but a piece of web to hold the both of you up was not an appealing or exciting thought.

He wouldn’t have bothered offering had he any reservations about the security and safety of his webs, and you were aware of that fact; but still…the thought of swinging through the air, several feet above the ground, and relying on nothing but a piece of web to catch the both of you-

“Nah, you got it.”

“Oh, for bloody-”

“I’ll take my chances with the drunk women in the front room, and I’ll meet you up there since you’re so adamant about going to the damn roof.”

Hobie knew not to take the snide tone of your words to heart. If anything, he only found them amusing, as made evident by the smile on his face and the disbelieving shake of his head. His eyes followed you while you found a pair of slides and a jacket before shrugging it on and turning back to him.

“I don’t get any type of hint for what's up there?”

“No- but if you aren’t up there in the next 5 minutes, my new name will be Barney Rubble.”

The words made you pause, your lips parting slightly as you replayed his words in your mind. Another one of Hobie’s endearing, and incredibly amusing (and confusing) qualities is that he has no problem letting a Cockney insult or saying slip. It could be in the middle of the most casual conversation one could have, or it could be in response to something outrageous he heard. Or maybe he just felt as if the curse would further enhance whatever he needed to say; you suspected it was more so that third one this go around.

You were used to it; used to hearing a word you had never heard prior to it coming from Hobie’s mouth in the middle (or beginning…or end) of a statement. Every time you thought you knew every piece of cockney slang- at least the ones Hobie used- he just…lets out another one. You had half a mind to keep a record of them to look back on.

You were used to it. You were also used to the feeling of confusion and amusement that always went through you every time he did it.

“...the fuck did you just say to me?”

Hobie smacked his teeth and rolled his eyes once more in faux outrage, and it only made your amusement grow. A small peal of laughter left you as you repeated the phrase in a horrible imitation of his strong accent. Pitching your voice low enough was a struggle, but you personally thought that your imitation of his accent was spot on. Judging by the deadpan look on his face, though, he disagreed.

“What even is that? Who even is that- Barney Rubble? Barney got a last name? Didn’t know tha- where you goin?”

Instead of sitting there and taking your teasing, he did something that surely had your body preparing for a heart attack, the way you tensed and quickly jumped into action.

Once he had ducked back into your room, it had only taken him 3, wide steps to reach your bedroom door…the one that would lead straight into the living room.

The living room that was occupied by your roommate and a friend.

With a hand closing around his wrist, you dug your heels into your carpeted floor, pulling him to a stop. It was barely enough, as you also had to insert yourself physically between him and the door.

You had a clue as to what- or who- Barney Rubble is, and ironically enough, it rhymed with ‘trouble’.

“What are you doing?! Alright, alright! 5 minutes- I’ll be up there. Damn-”

“Aht- you’ve got 4 minutes and 30 seconds now, love. Better get a move on.”

And if the mere thought of him walking into your living room in his suit didn’t give you enough of a heart attack, the way his hand landed on your hip and squeezed surely did.

The flush that went through your body had your eyes widening slightly and your lips parting on a quick breath. The place where his hand still rested emanated nothing but heat as he turned you towards the door, nudging you slightly forward. His steps shadowed yours, except they did so on the outside of your own. It allowed his chest to barely brush against your back, but it was enough to have your heart speeding up in the slightest.

Hell, anytime Hobie initiated any type of physical contact had your heart beating a little faster.

“W-well, what am I supposed to tell them when they ask where I’m going?”

You turned slightly once you reached the door, your hand landing on the knob and opening it slightly. The sound of the tv in the front room along with the two women’s voices immediately increased in volume as you did so, but your focus was still on Hobie’s hand and how it turned you slightly to face him.

The proximity between you two had gotten smaller at some point, forcing you to crane your neck back just to be able to meet his gaze; and perhaps it was the reflection of your lights in his eyes that were somehow always intense and soft as they gazed at you, but you could’ve sworn there was something else beneath that usual look of mischief. Something that you continued to convince yourself was simply a trick of the light, or a quick flash of his eyes- anything besides what you hoped it was. There was no point in giving yourself false hope.

It didn’t matter how much you were in denial, and it certainly didn’t matter how sure you were that he only saw your bond as that of a pair of friends, you still found yourself instantly being drawn into him as he spoke to you. His voice was a deep rumble- one that floated over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps on every part of you. His touch was a beacon of something akin to hope as he squeezed your hip again, bringing your attention back to what he was saying.

“Between us two, you got the beau’y and the brains, so use ‘em, love.” You gaped at the compliment he let slip- as if it were the most normal thing. He continued talking before you could fully process his words or the reaction they drew out of you.

“May wanna hurry up, though; you got ‘bout 4 minutes now. 3:59…3:58…3:57-”

“Goddam- you’re such a menace. You actually make me sick-”

The last thing you heard was his low chuckle as you opened the door, quickly stepping out and leaving it cracked behind you. The sound of laughter and a blaring TV grew as you walked closer to the living room. From your position, you could see the backs of your roommate and her friend, both of them lounging on the couch and talking loudly. Their words ranged from gossip they had gotten from their place of work to whether or not they’d marry someone they had yet to meet- and it wasn’t hard to see that their words only reflected the tv show they were watching.

For a second, it seemed as if you’d be able to slip behind them unnoticed and make it to the door. Their voices were loud enough to cover your steps, and the tv was certainly loud enough to cover the sound of you opening and closing the door. And for a moment, you though that you’d make it. Your hand closed around the knob of the front door, turning it lightly, only for a quick call of your name to stop you in your tracks.

“Where you goin’?”

Your roommate’s words slurred slightly, and there was a wide and curious smile on her face as the both of them turned towards you. Her words were loud to compensate for the volume of the tv, and it only made you wince slightly as you stopped and turned toward her. You could feel your lips turn into an expression that looked more like a grimace than a smile.

“I think I forgot my charger in my car. Was gonna run down and get it.”

It was the first excuse to reach the forefront of your mind. It made sense, and it was also something that you’d done multiple times on accident. You surely thought that it would be a valid enough excuse and that you’d be able to slip away… but leave it to your roommate to make things the slightest bit difficult.

“Oh! You can just use my charger. I’m not using it now!”

Your mouth opens to maybe provide another excuse or to even decline her offer, however, your words stop at the sight just down the hallway. It's hard to keep your eyes from widening at the sight of Hobie poking his head out of your door while leaning against the frame.

With a shit-eating grin, he held up 3 fingers to signify the number of minutes you had left before you truly learned what- or who- the fuck Barney Rubble was.

Deep down, you knew that his actions were joking; he wouldn’t actually walk out into your living room with his suit on, prompting screams of confusion and questions from the two drunk women in front of you. He wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

It was almost as if the menace himself read your mind, as his eyebrows rose in a challenge and the grin on his face grew. There was the slight sound of your door opening followed by the sight of his foot stepping past your doorframe. And then his hands raised as if he were going to slip his mask on over his face-

“UH! Yeah-I…actually lied. I’m not going to get my charger, I gotta…run to the store. For, uh…floss.”

“...I’ve got floss sticks, Y/N. I can get you one-” Your roommate threw back the cover she used before moving to her feet. The mere thought of her turning and seeing Hobie right at the end of the hallway made you quickly step forward. You weren’t the best when put under pressure, and there were so many different factors of the situation you had found yourself in, and Hobie was still at the end of the goddamned hall, smiling and holding up two fingers, and since when was your roommate so charitable-

“NO, you’ve got the mint ones- I don’t like those. They make my teeth…burn. I mean- hurt.”

By sheer will alone, you didn’t curse at yourself for that response right then and there. Instead, you stood there, ignoring the sight of Hobie doubling over with silent laughter at the end of the wall, and praying to whoever listened that your roommate was drunk enough to write off your excuse as something not worth your time.

Perhaps the universe was on your side, as she tilted her head and regarded you for a second, her eyes narrowing slightly. You had no doubt that she was the least bit suspicious, and you honestly couldn’t blame her. You had no idea what the hell you were saying, each word seeming to miss the filter of sense they usually passed through before leaving your mouth; despite the absurdity of your words, your roommate simply shrugged before lowering herself back into her spot, mumbling something that included the words ‘weird’ and ‘strange’.

You, however, certainly didn’t waste another second before turning and quickly making your way out of the apartment, your steps quickly taking you to the rooftop. And just as you had expected, the sound of laughter was the first thing you heard once you pushed the door open.

The sound lead you to a corner of the rooftop that was only illuminated by a string of dusty lights left by someone who’d had an idea for the rooftop but had given up. You had a perfect view of the city, the lights being easier to see from the rooftop. You were sure that you’d see elegant cars and even more elegant dresses and tuxes if you were closer to the event, but you weren’t…and you didn’t want to be.

Despite the laughter that still fell from his lips, at your expense, no less, you found that you still wouldn’t rather be anywhere else than on the rooftop with Hobie…goddamn Brown.

“I ain’t a dentist, but maybe you should get that checked out, love.”

“Don’t start-”

“Don’t think I’ve heard of someone’s teeth burnin’-”

His words broke off into another rumbling chuckle, one that immediately prompted you to roll your eyes. Nonetheless, you still walked closer to where he leaned against the low wall surrounding the roof.

Your arms crossed in front of you, your facade of being fed up with his antics quickly crumbling as his eyes narrowed at you. The soft lights reflected off of his dark skin, glinting off of each piercing he had and therefore highlighting the skin pierced by them. The action of his arms crossing drew your attention to the sinewy muscles of his forearms as they raised, copying your pose as he gazed down at you.

“You gon’ tell me why I’m up here, or are you gonna stand there and make fun of me? Because I can definitely turn right back around and go back-”

That was a lie. The fact that Hobie had wanted you there in the first place was enough to ensure that you’d stay until you saw whatever he wanted to show you. It was the emptiest threat.

“You gonna be patient and let me surprise you, or are you gonna keep askin’ questions, love?”

Another chuckle fell from his lips as he dropped his arms. One of his hands stretched out, his long fingers hooking beneath his loose bracelet that still adorned your wrist before pulling you a tad bit closer. His body turned slightly to the side, allowing space for you to lean against the wall as he jutted his chin towards something you had yet to see, though you kept your eyes on him.

It was your turn to narrow your eyes in suspicion at his actions and his refusal to answer you straightforwardly. It made your curiosity grow.

This was new, whatever…this was. You could confidently say that you two were close friends, but the softness of his eyes and the way his lips curled fondly into a smile that you liked to think was only for you said differently. It watered that little seed of hope in your chest. Now it was only a waiting game to see what it would grow into. And for some reason, you had a suspicion that tonight would not only give that seed enough room to grow but that it’d also become a little clearer, this bond between you two.

“You’re bein’ rather skeptical instead of just takin’ in what’s right in front of you.”

“And what exactly is right in front of me, Hobie?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow. You hadn’t meant for your voice to be so soft. You certainly hadn’t meant for your eyes to flicker down to his full lips as they pursed slightly at your question. But you found that maybe it was a good thing, as Hobie used the same loose grip he had on the bracelet to pull you just a few inches closer.

There was more than one way to take his words, and the realization, paired with his actions, came with a small increase in your heart rate.

The grin on his face had slowly disappeared, being replaced by a look of contemplation and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His eyes roamed over your features as a heavy silence fell over the two of you. Your room had been a space of familiarity; a space with enough distractions that served in keeping your thoughts from straying to things you were too scared to ask for and too self-doubtful to openly wish for. But now…with nothing but the open city skyline and the two of you alone on a nearly barren rooftop…those same thoughts reared their head. Only this time, you were almost certain that you weren’t the only one being pestered by them.

“Oh, I wish I could show you, sweetheart.”

His words echoed with every beat of your heart, no matter how irregular it had grown because of his presence. His eyes flickered from one point of your face to your eyes, and back. The subtle feeling of his fingers tightening around the bracelet, pulling you even closer was nearly lost on you as you focused on the way his lips parted slightly, an inaudible sigh lifting his shoulders. Though as they lowered with the same breath, his eyes flickered quickly over your shoulder, the grin you knew all too well appearing on his face once more.

“But you can see for yourself.”

With a mind that still worked on getting itself through the fog of longing that had been brought on by Hobie, you let him turn you towards the edge of the rooftop that looked over a grassy park. It was one that you sometimes found yourself walking through when you needed or wanted to, but now the usually open area was crowded with people either sitting on blankets or lawn chairs, all of their attention on the stage that sprawled over the park’s pond.

It wasn’t hard to figure out why, as the sound of music reached your ears no sooner than you had realized that there were people on the stage. And it wasn’t just any music. The opening notes to one of the songs Hobie had recommended to you were as familiar as the sound of your own name, as you had certainly listened to the song more than enough times. Along with the recognition of the song came the realization that the band playing was one that you both were rather fond of.

“Is that…?”

Hobie’s answer came in the form of a chuckle and a nod of his head that you saw out of your peripheral, but other than that, he simply let the music speak for itself. Despite your distance from the concert itself, the music effortlessly rode the soundwaves before reaching the two of you, making your smile grow.

You’d had no idea that they were even coming to your area, let alone holding an entire concert. But somehow Hobie had known, and he had made sure to bring you to a view no one else had to watch it.

“Mate of mine only had 2 tickets, and one was for him.” He shrugged one shoulder as you looked at him, your eyes bright with excitement for the music that just started.

“Thought that I’d have a better view from here, with someone who’s a lot less annoyin’ and a lot prettier.”

A sound close to a laugh and scoff left you at his words, your head shaking slightly. Despite the smile he wore, there was nothing else to imply that his words were joking. The music provided a background of harmonies and lyrics that you felt only added to the atmosphere, and you briefly wondered if the feelings going through your body were a result of the music’s bass traveling through the air before settling into your bones, or if it was an amalgamation of feelings you were finding a little easier to put a word to.

“Hobie, you didn’t have to do that. Giving up a free ticket to watch it from a rooftop?” Your voice still held a bit of disbelief as you questioned him, your eyes flickering between the performance and his features. Your divided attention caused you to miss the way his eyes softened as they landed on you, but you were perfectly aware of the way he turned, leaning his elbows on the wall and letting his arm rest firmly against yours. You may or may not have instantly leaned into the warmth his body emanated.

“There’s a difference between having to do somethin’ and wantin’ to do something. It’s always the second one when it comes to you, love.”

Your smile grew- if that was even possible- and you leaned more into him, your skin flushing from the combination of his words and the point of contact between you two.

The music switched to one of the band’s slower songs, and it only seemed right to hum along with the music. The opening notes garnered cheers from the crowd and a wide smile from you. Though a tug at your wrist paused your humming, and with curious eyes, you turned to Hobie.

“You trust me, right?” He asked the same question he had posed earlier, yet this time, his words were softer; more genuine. Your answer was the same as before…but softer; more genuine.

“Of course I do.”

His eyes brightened at your answer before looking above the two of you to a slanted roof that jutted out over the edge of the roof. He took a step back, pulling you along slowly as if to give you a chance to change your mind, but you did nothing of the sort. You let him lead you to where the roof’s corner was directly above you, and you could only watch as he let go of you before lithely and quickly jumping onto the same corner.

You’d seen Hobie’s powers in action multiple times, and each time, you could remember your heart speeding up in concern and worry. Especially when you saw the familiar webhead fighting the week’s newest villain on the news, or heard another news station calling him a menace or even a villain himself. Now was no different as you watched him balance precariously on the edge of the roof before crouching and offering a hand down to you.

You took a breath, one that both steadied you and tampered down your nerves, before reaching for his hand. Hobie was one tall guy, and that length only transferred to his arms as he was able to easily grab your hand and hoist you up to the roof…but that was as far as you got before your nerves got the better of you.

His hand was clenched tightly in yours, and your eyes widened as you noticed just how…far from the ground you were-

“Oi, look at me.”

Neither his voice nor the sound of the band playing could tear your gaze away from how far away the ground looked. Was the ground moving or was that just your mind playing tricks? Was it getting closer? If the ground was getting closer that meant-

It was only the feeling of his arms wrapping securely around you, your body being pulled into the wide and hard expanse of his chest as he settled the two of you on the roof, that pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“You know ‘ve got you. ‘M not lettin’ you go anywhere.” He mumbled reassuringly, his arms squeezing lightly around your shoulders where they were still wound around you. Your breath hitched once more, but not because of the height you two had found yourselves sitting at.

Without a hint of hesitation, your own hands raised, securing themselves tightly around his forearms across your chest. You pushed your back further into the confines his arms made around you until you could feel every point of contact between his chest and your back, and only then did you take a deep breath before letting it out.

“You good, love?” His breath puffed lightly against the shell of your ear as he lowered his head, and the sensation sent a chill down your spine that you didn’t bother trying to hide.

Sitting there, watching a band you both enjoyed from a view no one else had, knowing that Hobie had specifically wanted this moment between you two made your words catch in your throat. It made every nerve ending in your body alight as if Hobie held the sun itself in his veins, transferring its heat and fire to you every time you two touched. While his touch was like fire, his voice was like a soothing balm that washed over you, always rumbling from deep within his chest.

The word ‘good’ would never be adequate enough to describe how you felt in his arms. There was only one word that even remotely fit the emotion flowing through you at his touch, his voice- him, except this time, there was no self-doubt holding you back from admitting it. To yourself, at least.

The slower music reached the two of you, the familiar tune helping you relax into Hobie’s chest and helping you realize just how perfectly the two of you fit together. His feet bordered yours, knees bent and giving the two of you an extra sense of security as they kept you from sliding off of the roof. While one arm stayed wrapped around your shoulders, his other unwound itself so that his fingers could find yours. They gently twisted the rings- his rings- that still adorned your fingers before almost slowly lacing with yours. Your smile grew as your head fell back to rest against his shoulder, his chin nudging slightly against your temple. A content sigh left you in the form of words.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

A/N: I hope y’all enjoyed this little oneshot that came from staying up too late and fantasizing about Hobie Brown (its an obsession at this point but can you mf blame me?)

All interactions are greatly appreciated! Likes, reblogs, comments; give it all, I’ll take it all <33

Y’all’ stay safe!

Tag list:

@shinsousliya , @honey-teaaaaaaaa , @tchhairbandhere , @jessiapollo-blog , @zane2408 , @bananasplits-world , @yellowjacketmurder , @barkbarkbo , @butterflyybabe , @bananafishok , @mitsuya-takashi , @chaoticevilbakugo , @cedeni-beanie , @kingstormpostsshit , @sailorsolar12 , @justariellove , @angelsmist , @eriksjournal , @mermaidchansons , @nil-eena , @paisholotus , @thesecretwriterblog , @brain-of-nekoma , @simp4iwaizumi , @bumlyn , @jackdrawsjunk , @http-twyla , @cedeni-beanie , @taleiakirby , @brain-of-nekoma , @borderlineacademia , @ventingfanfics , @jackdrawsjunk , @writesbyriri , @serahxney , @awolfcsworld

TAGLIST FORM

#hobie #hobie brown #hobie brown oneshot #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #hobie brown fanfic #spider punk #spider punk x reader #spider punk oneshot #spider punk x you #spider punk x yn

240 notes · View notes