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#hobie brown hurt/comfort
the-kr8tor · 2 months
Note
Hello!! I hope that u r having a wonderful day/night!
I feel like suffering today so could I request reader comforting hobie after a canon event?
I need some more hurt/comfort in my life bc it’s one of my fav tropes even tho it’s sad 😭
🕊️anon
Hi, dovey!! Thank you for requesting! Prepare to be hurt/comforted 😂
Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, CW implied violence, CW Injury, TW blood. Hurt/comfort.
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Your hands are covered in crimson, iron fills your lungs as you scrub his hands in the basin. Legs aching from kneeling, tearful eyes staring at Hobie whilst he sits on the floor of your shared flat. His back lays flat on the wall. The same walls covered in the wallpaper you two chose for the place, all smiles and laughter filling the room— it's a stark contrast to the scene in front of you, his soft sobs wracking his battered body, wheezing from his bruised lungs. Yet he keeps his eyes open, red around the whites of his eyes, staring mindlessly at the ceiling he just dusted a few hours ago before it happened.
His entire suit is covered in blood, seeping through the fabric and into his skin. The same skin you brush against every morning, the same skin you love and adore. He thinks you wouldn't want to touch him again after seeing it marred by his blood and someone he failed to save. Their ichor drips on the carpeted floors, mixing into his own, staining the white material like blood on snow.
It's silent, you're silent, and he's afraid that it was almost you. Your blood almost spilled on him if he wasn't fast enough, if he chose the stranger rather than you.
Your face is unreadable, and he's terrified that he almost came home without seeing it ever again.
Your touch is soft against his split skin, and he's furious that green goblin made him choose, he feels he doesn't deserve the softness of your hands against his bloodstained ones.
Your breath hitches in your throat, dust dirtying your face, clothes torn from where goblin gripped you too tight, his mark left on your bicep; tiny pinpricks of dried blood from his sharp nails dot along your arm like grim stars.
And he's terrified of the other outcome where he didn't catch you in time.
“Hobie,” your hoarse voice cuts him like a knife, tone cracking at the simple utterance of his name, the steel twisting inside his gut at the screams you let out. “It'll be okay. We'll be okay.”
At your simple words, he wakes up, reaching over to you even when his wounds protest, even when his guilt screams at him to let you go.
You take him in your arms, kicking away the basin for more space, embracing him fully as he disappears into you. Hiding himself in the crook of your neck, body slotting perfectly against yours.
“‘m sorry,” your heart shatters at his apology. Hobie clings to you tighter, hands balling your shirt, refusing to let you go. His salty tears are gathering around your neck. But it's alright as yours drench his stained cheeks.
“It's okay.” You rock him in your arms, heavy kisses pressed on his temple, letting your love calm him. “Let it out, I'm here. I love you.”
Hobie hopes that one day you'll forgive him. Even though there's nothing to forgive while you cradle him in your arms.
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v4mpgutz · 6 months
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Knife Under My Pillow, Hobie Brown [ ONESHOT ]
— got me feelin' paralysed, i can't sleep without the lights
hobie has a nightmare and you offer him comfort!
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note: i don't know why i didn't have this idea sooner omfg i love soft hobie, PUSHING THE SOFT HOBIE AGENDA!!
warnings ! — hobie is a little disoriented at first, angst to fluff, kind of ooc but its just bc hes sleepy and anxious because of his nightmare. petnames ( baby, babe, love )
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hobie had always had fairly vivid dreams. there'd been many times where he'd wake up and tell you about how he was kidnapped by aliens and then went to mcdonalds with them or where you turned into a tiny kitten and he'd carried you in his pocket.
unfortunately, having vivid dreams also meant he had vivid nightmares as well. most of the time when he had a nightmare he'd wake up, go get a glass of water, come back to bed, cuddle into you and then go back to sleep. this time, however, was different.
you awoke from small mutters and mumbles coming from beside you, not being able to make out any words but you knew it was hobie.
you smiled down at him as you sat up and checked the alarm clock on his bedside table, 2:37 AM.
when hobie let out a small, distressed sound, you quickly turned back to him and noticed his face was screwed up in what looked like discomfort or pain. you furrowed your brows in concern, trying to listen to what he was saying in his sleep.
"love.." he mumbled, taking a shaky, gasp-like breath in, but still asleep. "no, move..."
you could only grow more concerned as sweat started to build on his forehead, his body shaking as he started to flail around a bit.
"hobie?" you whispered, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "hobie, wake up!"
you could see his eyes moving around quickly under his eyelids and his skin developed a layer of goosebumps. you shook his shoulder, calling his name again. "baby, wake up, c'mon..." you whispered.
you shake him a little harder and watched as he opened his eyes with a shallow breath in, blinking slowly and looking around his room.
he didn't see you at first, calling your name as his eyes teared up.
you frowned and placed a hand on his cheek gently as he sat up, eliciting a short gasp from him. "i'm right here, hobie," you reassured him as you moved one hand to gently hold his right one.
he took a few deep breaths, just looking at you. he took in your appearance — you were okay. he shuffled further towards you on the bed and hugged you, his head resting against your torso as he laid the two of you down again.
you felt his body shaking as he let out muffled sobs. "hobie..." you called and rubbed his back, hugging him close. "what happened, babe?" you asked him.
he turned his head so that his face was away from your stomach, whispering softly.
"it was you," he choked out. "i couldn't stop it."
you didn't entirely understand what he meant but you figured something bad had happened to you in his nightmare. you didn't want to push him to say anything else considering he was so upset and you'd never wish to cause him more pain, so you opted for comforting him instead.
"hey," you whispered to him. "look at me, hob."
he coughed and wiped his eyes, looking up at you from his place tucked between your legs as he laid on your torso.
you held his face in your hands and looked him in the eyes, seeing tears gather along his waterline. "i'm okay, see?" you smiled softly, rubbing his cheek.
"i'm right here, i'm fine." you nodded, humming softly. he seemed to be a little calmer, lips pulling into a barely noticeable smile as you hummed some made-up tune.
he let out a breath and cuddled himself back into your stomach, "you're right."
you laughed and patted his back, running your fingers up and down it gently, making him shiver.
"go back to sleep, baby," you told him as you checked the time again. "it's early. i've got you, i'm not going anywhere."
you felt him smile against your slightly exposed skin due to your shirt riding up. he kissed your stomach gently and mumbled a small, "thank you."
before you knew it, you heard his quiet breaths as he fell back asleep.
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i love him so much omg
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phantom-playdough · 11 months
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Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) x GN!Reader: “I choose you, Hobie.”
I made this because I love me some hurt/comfort fics and there are basically none for Hobie. So, if no one else will do it, I will damn it lmao Hope y'all enjoy some sweet and adorable hurt/comfort.
TW's: Angst with a happy ending, Reader has hardcore insecurities, depression (No suicidal ideations, just sadness) and self-deprecating thoughts.
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Tissues littered the floor of Y/n's bedroom, thrown anywhere but the actual trashcan. Not that Y/n could really bring themself to care; they'd clean it up later. They stopped crying what feels like hours ago. Now, Y/n was just sitting down on the floor in front of their bed and sat there, lost in thought.
However, they were brought out of that state when they heard their window open. Y/n didn't even need to look up to know who it was. Afterall, most humans could not climb 15 stories to reach their apartment.
"'Ey, Y/n. You havin' a tissue party?" Hobie said, taking off his mask and looking around the bedroom.
Y/n didn't have it in them to croak out a response. So, they didn't try. But that was all it took to clue Hobie in to know that something was wrong.
Without a word, Hobie sat down beside Y/n on the floor and wrapped an arm around their shoulders. Even though Y/n felt so empty, they couldn't help but take in Hobie's cologne. Somehow it suited him.
"You alright there, (Nickname)?" Hobie asked, despite knowing the answer. Of course, he knew. The two of them had known each other for so long now that this type of thing was as obvious as a person's nose.
He and Y/n knew each other after he saved them from a mugger. Hobie still remembers how after he knocked the mugger out, Y/n just said, "I like the spikes on your costume." It was definitely a strange response to have after getting save from a mugging, but it was good to know that this person had taste. At least, that was what Hobie thought in the moment.
"Thank you, cutie." Hobie said with a wink. He then swung off and may or may not have followed Y/n home to make sure they made it safely. At least, that was his defense whenever that was brought up.
The two of them became super close after that night. Which meant that Hobie was around whenever Y/n got a boyfriend. Hobie really tried to be supportive. Like, really tried. But as time went on, Hobie felt his concerns grow for Y/n as time had passed.
At first, the guy sounded pretty cool to Hobie when Y/n talked about him. He and Y/n were very close friends, similar to Hobie (Albeit for longer). Y/n gushed about the nice things they did with him. Clubbing, going to concerts occasionally, shopping dates, even just staying at home and chilling. Hobie didn’t seem to have many concerns at the beginning. (Even if he was jealous…)
But as time went forwards, Y/n’s boyfriend really seemed stubborn in hanging around other people instead of Y/n. He seemed really stubborn about going out clubbing when Y/n just wanted to stay at home. He seemed very stubborn about getting handsy. That one probably wouldn't have been that big of a deal. But what made it hard to handle was when Hobie met Y/n's boyfriend. The guy seemed very inclined on sucking Y/n's teeth in front of Hobie.
However, Y/n tried to cut their boyfriend slack whenever Hobie voiced his concerns to them. They knew him for a long time. Hobie knew that. But he gently pointed these problems out to his best friend. Y/n was well aware that they did not feel comfortable with what was going on in their relationship. So, they knew they had to voice their concerns.
That didn't go so well.
"Y/n. You're doing it again." Hobie said, a finger grazing his best friend's cheek.
"Huh?"
"You're spacing out on me. C'mon, what is it?" Hobie tried to keep his tone both firm but sweet.
Y/n sighed. "I went over to his apartment. To try and talk about how he has been acting lately. Try and tell him I think we needed to set up some ground rules, or something like that."
"But...?"
"But he... had someone else over. She answered the door. Said that her boyfriend was in the shower."
Hobie's eyes went as wide as moons. The level of fury he felt at hearing this could NOT be understated. To think that someone who was lucky enough to have Y/n as their partner and go and ruin both that perfect and amazing chance as well as break Y/n's heart in the process.
Who could even come close to competing with Y/n? No one, in Hobie's mind.
"Maybe it's for the best." Y/n grumbled out, tearing Hobie out of his fury. "I mean, I was just stupid for thinking he thought more highly of me. But why would he?"
Hobie felt his self-control slipping, but at this point, it gone. "Y/n," He began, grabbing Y/n's chin to make them look at him and make sure they wouldn't turn away. "Listen to me, will ya? That moron was stupid for not seeing you as a gem. ‘Cause that's what you are. You don't have a Scooby-doo about how amazing you are. How captivating you are. He is fucking stupid for trying to replace you when he can’t. You deserve so much better than that crock of shit."
“I really don’t, Hobie.” Hobie was just about to object, but Y/n yanked their head away. Effectively cutting his comeback off and speaking lies to Hobie’s sensitive ears. “Let me asking you something, Hobie. Did I turn him into a jerk or am I just plain dumb? Or better yet, both?”
“Knock it off, Y/n. These fuckin’ planks (idiots) lie. And they’re good at it, too. They are good at pretending like they care and that they love you. Guys like that twit also manipulate others. He knew you both were friends for a long time. He took you places, gave you things. Please don’t hate me for saying this babe, but I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he said something fucking stupid like how he did all of this for you and you couldn’t do those creepy things for him.”
“I feel dumb I didn’t see it.”
“Love, almost no one sees the signs when you fall for someone you’ve known for years. Plus, he gave you so much. Good laughs, good moments, good memories…I didn’t have a Scooby-doo, for fucks sake! So, if you wanna be gutted (upset) at yourself you should be with me too.”
Y/n tried to ignore the way the nicknames like babe or love caused a flush to flood their face. The way their heart jumped just a little too much when they heard that. Y/n made the mistake of looking back at Hobie’s gorgeous face. The way his eyes held a serious look. Y/n gathered that he wasn’t angry at them. It was more their ex.
They looked away to avoid looking at Hobie’s pierced and sexy lips, as well as avoid letting him see the tears in their eyes. “Maybe it’s karma.” Hobie was barely a beat away from interrupting. But Y/n put a finger up. “No, shut up. Let me explain.” Hobie literally bit his tongue to do so.
Y/n took a breath. “I knew at the time that I liked him. I did. But I…liked someone else more. I just knew it wouldn’t work with him because he probably wouldn’t want to be held down and backwards. He would probably want to swing free. So, I thought that my ex would be enough. Again, I did like him. He literally confessed to me when I brought up that I that I thought wasn’t good enough for…someone else. He said I was more than enough for him. So, I just decided that I could make it work. Especially because he was great in the beginning. But maybe it’s karma for replacing my true feelings with something I wasn’t a hundred percent invested in.”
Hobie felt his heart break for what felt like the millionth time. “Do I know this other mate of yours?” He asked after a beat of silence.
“Like the back of your web-throwing hand.” Y/n said. They inhaled for a moment or two. “He’s you.”
“Wait, what?”
“He’s you, Hobart Brown. I literally hinted it just a second ago.”
“How? When?”
“When I said that you would rather swing free.”
“Well, how was I supposed to pick up on that?! That’s super subtle, (Nickname).” Hobie defended, making Y/n laugh. “You seriously thought I wouldn’t want to be with you? I hinted at it too, just now by the way!!”
“What are you talking about?”
“I just said you’re captivating and amazing. That the fucking dumbass who kissed you with more teeth than lips when I was around was stupid for thinking someone else could compete with you. Unlike you, I wasn’t subtle.”
“Literally everyone who cares about someone else would say that.” Y/n deadpanned. “But…thanks.” They said softly. They leaned on Hobie’s shoulder, curling their legs up close to their chest and snuggling into Hobie’s side. Hobie responded by putting a hand on their shoulder, squeezing it just a tad. Y/n then took it a step further, wrapping their arms around Hobie’s built waist.
“What now, punk?” Y/n asked quietly.
“What?”
“What now? Do you want to progress or not? I mean, you don’t believe in consistency. So, I kinda just assumed you didn’t have interest in anything related to romance.”
“Modern romance is a marketing scheme full of corruption from the people making chocolates and growing roses, plus the cunning bastards who look to find it.” Hobie took in a deep breath. “But…that doesn’t mean I don’t have interest in you.” Y/n heart was racing so fast it felt like they were about to travel through time. There was no way Hobie didn’t notice this. But luckily he didn’t comment on it. “If you want to try this, Y/n…I will. But if you don’t feel ready or comfortable, I won’t mind. You can be with any bloke you want. If you chose me, I’d be happy. But I’d say the same if you didn’t. So long as we don’t drift apart.”
Y/n took a while to respond, making Hobie worry. But once Y/n was ready to answer, they decided to answer without a word. They pulled their head off Hobie’s shoulder and kiss him on the smooth skinned cheek.
“I choose you, Hobie.”
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daisies-daydreams · 3 months
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Hi, can I request Hobie x plus size gn!reader comfort w/ some fluff? Reader who grew up with family restricting their access to specific food by hiding or not buying certain things and has trauma related to that? (fueled by fatphobia? sorry if too specific) Goes into the kitchen in their shared living space with Hobie to find no butter in the fridge and starts panicking and crying because even if it's illogical maybe Hobie hid it or didn't get any on purpose like family did? Hobie ofc comforts and reassures that he'd never take food away from you or get mad at you or judge you for what you eat and offers to buy some butter later but just spends time holding reader and giving forehead kisses and maybe offering to cook reader's favorite food or comfort food?
Sorry if this idea is too specific or uncomfy! It's been a rough week. Love your fics regardless and your writing is wonderful. Hope you have a great year <3
What I See (Hobie Brown x Plus Sized!GN!Reader)
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Pairing: Hobie Brown x Plus Sized!GN!Reader) Category: Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Depictions of Panic Attacks, Mentions of Fatphobia/Fatshaming, Body Insecurity Word Count: 1.2k+ A/N: Hello dear! I’m so sorry you’ve been having a rough time. I hope this week has been much better to you and I hope you have a great year as well. ☀️
You frantically scrambled through the contents of your fridge for what felt like the millionth time. You had a craving for grilled cheese a little while ago, making your way to the kitchen to gather the ingredients…only to find the butter missing in your fridge.
“You’re probably better off without it,” a family member’s voice sneered inside your mind. Your throat tightened as your heart began to pound inside your ears.
“You should eat something healthier anyway - what man would want someone who looks like you?” another voice scoffed. You squeezed your eyes shut as you slammed the fridge door shut and shook your head.
The horrific memories of your past came flooding into your mind like a violent tidal wave. The snarky comments, the hidden food, the restrictions you had to go through during holidays or family gatherings…even on your birthday. You desperately tried to shove the thoughts away as you paced into your living room, your body trembling as you sniffed.
Your heart nearly stopped when a thought crossed your mind.
What if…Hobie hid the butter from you?
You berated yourself for thinking such a thing…and yet the more you tried to deny it, the louder the voice became. You slowly sank onto the couch as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your body feeling heavier with each passing second as tears rolled down your puffy cheeks.
“You’ve been eating a lot more lately - of course he’d want to hide it from you,” the first voice spat. You cried as you threaded your fingers through your hair.
“You really think he’d want to be with a pig like you? Always stuffing their face?” another hissed venomously.
“Stop it,” you sobbed as your body tensed and heart burned with a dull, heavy ache. So many other horrible thoughts began to snowball.
What if he didn’t want you anymore?
Did he find you ugly now? A pig, a loser? Someone who lacked self-control?
Why would he hide things from you? After all this time-
You gasped as you felt someone place their hand on your shoulder. You whipped your head around, your eyes widening when you saw Hobie frown and tilt his head down.
“Lovie?” he murmured as he furrowed his brows. You sniffed and shifted your gaze towards your lap, shame burning deep within the pit of your stomach and consuming you like a wildfire.
“I-I’m sorry if I woke you up,” you cried and wiped at your red, puffy eyes. Your lover cooed as he slid onto the couch beside you. Your heart skipped a beat as he wrapped one of his lanky arms around your shoulder and pulled you close.
“It’s alright, hun,” he said with a warm look in his eyes. You felt a lump swell in your throat as he held you close, his heart beating steadily against your ear as you rested against his chest. “Wanna talk about it?” Hobie asked while playing with a loose string on your hoodie. You sighed as you closed your eyes.
“I…It's stupid,” you muttered. Hobie hummed and gingerly rubbed your arm.
“Hey, whatever you have to say, I’m here for you,” he said gently. You timidly glanced into his eyes before you took a deep breath.
"Hobie...did you - did you hide the butter from me?" you said hesitantly. A suffocating silence lingered in the air as the space between his brows creased even more.
"'Course not," he finally replied. You sighed with relief and sank into the couch cushions. "Can I ask why? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," your boyfriend said. You opened your eyes as a bitter taste remained in your mouth. Your face contorted into different expressions as you debated with yourself on whether or not you would share. You eventually sat up straight as you gazed into his two deep pools of hickory.
"It's just...growing up, my family would often hide food from me in order to make me look 'more appealing'," your throat tightened as you recalled the awful memories. Hobie remained by your side as you continued. "And they would always remind me of what a failure I was if I gained even a little bit of weight," you curled your fists against the fabric of your pants as you sucked in a sharp breath. "I just...I'm sorry I never told you," you frowned. You gasped when Hobie suddenly pulled you into a tight embrace, his chin resting on top of your head as your face nuzzled into his chest.
"It's okay, hun. 'm not mad at you for not tellin' me," Hobie reassured you. You sniffed as more hot tears soaked through his ripped, black t-shirt. Your love rubbed his large palms up and down your back as you wept. It felt like hours before you finally felt relaxed enough to pull back. Hobie smiled and cupped your face before gently pecking your forehead.
"(Y/N)...I promise that I would never hide any food from you," your boyfriend stated. Your heart fluttered at his affirmation as he peppered your forehead with a few more kisses while smoothing his thumb over your knuckles. He sighed and rested his forehead against yours. "No matter what shape or size you are, you'll always be gorgeous to me," Hobie whispered as he rested your palm over his chest. Your eyes softened as you felt his heartbeat gently thrum beneath your hand.
He chuckled softly as you leaned forward and rested your lips against his. Hobie let his hands fall on our hips as you soaked in the feeling of his warm lips against your own. You smiled softly as you pulled back.
"Thank you...so, so much," you grinned as your eyes glossed over. Your love reflected your smile as he smoothed his fingers against your cheek.
"Welcome, doll," he beamed with a half-lidded gaze. Your cheeks flushed with warmth as he took your hand and grazed his lips over your knuckles. You giggled as he began to kiss up your arm before nuzzling his cheek against the side of your palm. "How 'bout I buy you some butter on my next trip to the store, yeah?" Hobie offered with a lopsided grin. You swore your love for this man grew with every word that fell from his lips.
"That sounds nice," you said with a sheepish smile. He grinned back and sighed as he squeezed your hand in his. You knitted your brows as Hobie slowly rose to his feet, a calm grin on his face as he gave you a warm glance.
"Good. Now in the meantime...I'll just have to make do and make your favorite food," he said with a shrug. You parted your lips as your eyes lit up.
"Oh baby, you don't need to do that," you flushed. Hobie clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"Afraid I have to. I'm obligated as your loving (and devastatingly handsome) boyfriend to pamper you," he said as he wiggled his brows. You couldn't help but laugh at his antics.
"Well, since you're insisting," you said while playfully rolling your eyes. Hobie chuckled before he squeezed your hand.
"Be right back," he winked again before slipping into the kitchen. You smiled as you watched your love shuffle around, his lithe form dancing around the room as he prepared your favorite dish. You sank back into the couch as your heart swelled with pure joy.
You finally felt like you were home.
————
Thank you for reading! ❤️
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samlacy · 9 months
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False pleasure (I will be good for you)
A small drabble where Hobie is a big meanie and tells You that you suck at blowjobs.
contains: roleplay(?), toxic!hobie (only an act), sensetive reader, blowjob, aftercare, words of affirmation
not proof read btw
*****
The room filled with the wet and messy sounds. Your mouth producing more saliva than you ever did, the drool dripping down on the sheets.
Currently Hobie was laying in his bed, completely unbothered as he was scrolling through his phone. When you looked slightly down, there were you, sucking him off.
You did this before, but still quite couldn’t get a hand of it. You followed all the steps. Lick, suck, move teeth out of the way and bop your head.
The feeling of doing a good job suddenly left your body as you looked up only to see an annoyed Hobie throw his phone onto the sheets and sigh as he tilted his head back.
Was he feeling good or rather bad?
Bad.
For sure bad.
Might ask how you know that?
Well, let’s focus on his body language.
Usually when Hobie felt really good, he would groan and whisper small ‘fuck’s or ‘oh my god’s.
Or he would grab onto your hair and tell you how good you are doing. How much he loves you and how he likes you being his.
Only his.
No one else’s.
But in this particular moment he seemed to be displeased. His head tilted back only because of how annoyed and bored he was. Not any other reason.
Hands relaxed and not gripping the sheets, nor gripping your hair. The only things that came out of his mouth in this intense moment were huffs, sighs.
Finally, he decided to make eye contact with you.
Usually you would get excited since he also likes it when you start the eye contact, but this time he rather looked
annoyed?
irritated?
His loose hands came up to your hair, pulling you off his cock as it smacked wet on his stomach and you were forced on your fours.
“Can you do anything right, doll?” Hobie says it in a gentle, soothing voice. But that is only because he sounds like that. That had a deeper meaning to it and it hit you right in the heart.
He didn’t even say anything harsh, but you felt like a burden of not pleasing him.
He sighs once again as he forces your head down, grip still in your hair. Your cheeks hit his cock as your own drool smeared all over your cheek.
“Let me use your mouth and make it actually pleasure-able, instead of watching you act like a high-school virgin”, the same gentle, soothing voice sent a rush of comfort, but disappointment in you.
You just let him slowly make you bop on the head of his cock, as he pushed you downwards while thrusting his hips up with no warning.
His pubic hair brushed your nose as you struggled with breathing slightly, feeling lightheaded already by this. You tried to take control and move your head up a little.
But, oh, how Hobie didn’t like that as he thrusted his hips up and kept you still there as his hips kept on moving. He slammed into your mouth like a hole.
His breathing got faster and his groans were getting higher in pitch. He is so close and you just had to be patient. A few seconds of a little lost of air was something you could handle, for sure.
Only for Hobie.
There, he came down your throat, finally letting you go as you sprang your head off and started coughing.
You swallowed it all and looked at him, curious of what he is up to now.
He had a small smile on his lips, head tilted back and eyes closed. His cock was still in the free, only to get tucked by his hands into his joggers.
Hobie looked at you now, the same smile. With a different meaning.
“Come here, love. Let me love you”, you never dived into someone’s arms this fast as you crawled to him and laid on him. He held your lower back and brushed your hair back as he moved from your hair to your cheek to caress it. His big lengthy hands cupped your face and made you look at him.
���I wanna remind you once more, that all was an act. Please, do not let my words affect you, love” He whispers with the sweetest smile you could have swore that it was the best one you ever saw, “Can I kiss you?”
You mouth a ‘yes’ towards him as approval, smacking your lips with his. The kiss lasted long enough for you to feel the warmth of his whole body on your own lips running down to your whole body.
You really did love him a lot, as much as he loved you.
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saturncodedstarlette · 11 months
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I want to read an angsty fic of Hobie. 😊✨
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POV : Imagine Y/N who’s always so worried abt Hobie since he always comes back home with bruises or wounds so Y/N tends to be overbearingly nagging at him, tho it comes from love. But Hobie just feels so suffocated that he accidentally lashed out at Y/N with blind rage, only to regretting it since he never raised his voice at Y/N before.
This could be either hurt/comfort or hurt/no comfort 😏 since I like to torture myself for no reason.
Original artist : ??? (I found this on Pinterest)
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Just to add salt to the wounds ✨
Back to December🎄 — Taylor Swift
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tenaciousduckpoetry · 11 months
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Sure, Next Time.
This is the fic that won the poll by a landslide. I will be writing the other one next just for fun! Actually, I might make a list of them and publish it so you guys know what's coming lmao
Warnings: mentions of blood, a limp, fights, dislocated finger 💀, hurt/comfort, swearing, Hobie and reader are tired af cause it's 2am, I also don't know how to write Hobie's accent so bear with my while I learn <33
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It didn't necessarily surprise you when Hobie accidentally let it slip that he was Spider-Punk. You could recognize the sticker abused guitar and stressed leather jacket anywhere. What did surprise you was the amount of injuries he sustained and how easily he could hide them from you. If he had a limp his excuse was, "Tripped in my boots, luv." Any other injuries he used the excuse of having started a fight with some capitalist douchebag. And you believed it. It was only until he came back for you to patch him up after every battle that you began to truly let your anxiety feed into it.
Hobie had climbed through your window at 2am. The sun was no where to be seen and the moon was shrouded in clouds. You had become a light sleeper as of late, the rise in crime getting on your nerves and preventing that precious rest you craved.
You woke up at the sound of those familiar heavy boots against your tiled floor. Squinting, you recognized the familiar shadow of a certain spider-man, or at least the shadow of the spikes on his head. "Hobie?" You reached to turn on your bedside lamp. Tired eyes squinted as the warm light enveloped the room. Your voice was scratchy from having been woken up at an ungodly hour. Your hair was all over the place, strands in front of your eyes and sticking out in ways that you didn't know it could. You thought this was a dream with how Hobie had frozen like a deer in headlights at the end of your bed.
Hobie thought he could just slip in and out, weaving his way to your bathroom and taking a couple of bandages for his trip home. He was wrong, and now look at him. He had barely made it to your house in one place and there was no doubt that he was not making it back to his own. All his weight was on his left leg, he was using a web connected to your roof as leverage to keep him upright. You could see a dark stain seeping through his mask just above where you assumed his left eyebrow to be. You suspected there to be more than what you could see through his mask, but would have to wait until you finally got him to the bathroom sink to find out.
The corners of his lips turned up as he watched you struggle to untangle your legs from the bedsheets. "Need some help, luv?" A shit eating grin adorned his face but you couldn't see it. Even when he was injured he still managed to make your cheeks flush in embarrassment.
You rolled your eyes. "I'm just fine." You huffed, finally finding the floor against your feet and taking steady steps towards the injured man. You didn't see him using your roof as leverage and silently cursed yourself for taking so long. "You better not pull out my roof with that web. Otherwise you'll be the one dealing with my landlord." You huffed only half-joking. Humour seemed to be your coping mechanism. "Don't get all funny on me now, luv." He chuckled, sounding worn out and in pain. You helped him through your mediocre apartment, having draped his arm over your shoulders and letting him rest his weight against you as you walked (stumbled) to the bathroom.
With a slight huff through your nose and grunt that you wished was silent, Hobie was now sitting on your toilet, the lid shut. He was too tall when he sat on the sink (you found that out the first time he came over) and well, you didn't have much room up there to begin with. You crouched to the cupboard below your sink. In a Spider-Punk themed box (made by you to tease Hobie) was a consistent supply of bandages, disinfectant wipes, alcohol wipes, splints, etc. There was everything you could think of that someone would need when injured. You made this box not long after the first time Hobie came back with blood dripping from his forehead and you didn't have anything to help. That night was filled with gentle sorry's and small panics.
"Can you take the mask off, Hobes?" You mumbled, having pulled the box onto the sink. You turned to watch him, tired eyes noticing just how he flinched when he moved his arms to push the mask over his head and tossing it to the floor. His hands were trembling, one of his fingers looking to be the slightest bit out of place. The cut above his eyebrow was bleeding profusely and it looked as if part of his piercing had been pulled on.
"'s not as bad as it looks." His hands gently moved to rest on your hips, eyes glancing towards the worried look on your face before moving to the roof. "Not as bad as it looks? Baby, you've probably got a concussion.. No, you've definitely got a concussion." You mumbled, hands already digging into that spider-punk themed medicine box. You managed to pull out some baby wipes and a few alcohol wipes. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins, heart thumping in your ears. Your hands came up to caress his face, taking a baby wipe to gently wipe the blood dripping down his face. There was a visible wince and a hiss of pain that came from the touch. Hobie's long fingers gripped the fabric of your pajamas.
"I'm sorry, Hobie.." you muttered, trying to be as gentle and careful as possible. Once the cut was cleaned and a bandage was placed over it, it was time to move to his finger. "I'm even more sorry about this. We're gonna need to put it back in place, okay?" You were kind of glad you took that health course in highschool now.
Hobie let out a groan, to tired to respond with words, but it was clear he was not looking forward to it. His hands released their grip on your hips and instead were placed in your palms. "Okay, we're gonna count to three and I'll put it back in. That good, baby?" You asked.
The suspense was killing Hobie, he was already in pain as it was. He's had dislocated digits before so he understood the importance of getting the limb back in it's socket as soon as possible, but that didn't mean he was going to enjoy it. He nodded. "Yeah, okay." He hummed in response. Except you didn't even count. You waited until he spoke up and quickly pushed the digit back into it's socket, earning a muffled (still loud) groan of undescribable pain. "I'm sorry! Fuck, I'm sorry. It's over now." You apologized, wrapping his swollen wrist in a compression bandage. The tears brimming in his eyes and the sick pop of his finger had you feeling queazy. You felt your stomach flip and not in the usual happy way it did when Hobie was around. However, you pushed the feeling aside, hands resting on his cheeks as you leaned in to press a small kiss just to the left of his bandage.
"Let's get you to bed.."
After finally fixing up his injuries the two of you had found yourselves laying in bed. Hobie was next to you, one arm drapes over your stomach, the other resting under his head. His lips brushed against your cheek.
"I worry about you.. About what you're doing." You spoke quietly, glancing back into his eyes for a moment. "I know it's for the greater good, but seeing you come home in the middle of the night half dead every day is- It's not nice." You rambled quietly before finally going silent.
He huffed through his nose, although it wasn't angry. "I know, luv. Gonna give you a heart attack one day.." he joked, pressing his lips to your temple. "I love you." The words came out quiet, barely leaving his lips before you turned to face him.
"I love you too, Hobes. But next time you get a dislocated finger just go to a doctor. I literally felt sick from that." You mentioned, earning a small nod and a deep chuckle.
"Sure.. next time." He mumbled in response, closing his eyes and wrapping his arm around you securely. There was no need to worry about the outside world as long as you were in his arms.
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fandom-friday · 18 days
Note
(Jumping over to the Spiderverse fandom for a hot second, I hope that's alright.)
Lord, Make Me a Liar by TurnedWorm on AO3!
It is so, so amazing. The angst, the characterization, everything. I have sooo many screenshots of this fic it's unreal. Some parts make me laugh out loud, some parts make me cry, I just. Cannot reccomend this one enough.
Awww I love me a found family fic that gets a bit angsty. Also, I ADORE HOBIE BROWN, so this being centered around him makes MY DAY. I love how protective he is of Gwen especially, and I think thematically this just fits him so well. And having screenshots that you revisit? Having an audible emotional response to a fic? The HIGHEST compliments. Thanks so much for the rec!
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Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)
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inoreuct · 9 months
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punkflower | post-nightmare hurt/comfort
A cricket chirped, the noise carrying sharp in the still air. If not for his training, Miles would have startled; hell, he nearly did anyway, shaken as he was.
It was ridiculous how he could see the same nightmare that many times over and still get affected by it. It was old news by now.
Unfortunately for him, his brain still hadn’t seemed to get the memo.
He knew it by heart at this point. It always started with him in a white room, perfectly pristine, the clinical perfection slowly disintegrating into muddy darkness. Withering away until the floor had become a murky pit, glitching in and out of existence.
And every time, someone he cared about was in the room with him. His mami, Gwen, Pav, Peter B., Peni, Hobie, Noir, Hobie, his dad, Gwen, Hobie— The faces switched in and out on a steady rotation. He laughed, sometimes, at the sick humour of it if he managed to predict who it would be.
The one constant was that he could never save them.
They’d be smiling one second and screaming the next, plunging down, down, down into that horrible gaping maw in the ground, and Miles would jump after them knowing they were already too far from his reach—
And then he’d wake up in cold sweat, heart in his throat, fingers twitching with the urge to text or call whoever he’d seen that night and fighting against the desperation to make sure that they were alive.
It was ridiculous. He knew that.
But tonight he’d jerked awake with Hobie’s name a dying scream on his lips, and he couldn’t bear to be alone.
So here he was, creeping onto his boyfriend’s canal boat at ass o’clock in the middle of the night, carefully stepping over the skein of spider silk that functioned as a trip wire and unlocking the door with the key he knew was taped beneath the railing. He made his way to Hobie’s bedroom on autopilot, tugging the collar of his sweatshirt higher; his flannel pyjama pants swished around his ankles as he carefully turned the handle, pushing the door open slowly enough that it didn’t creak.
Hobie was sprawled out on his pallet, blankets twisted around his lanky frame, one arm sticking out with his knuckles brushing the floor. His chest rose and fell just enough for Miles to make out in the darkness.
Miles swallowed against the sudden ache of relief, let it drip down his throat to ease the tight knot that had settled low in his gut since before he’d grabbed his watch and opened a portal without even thinking. It helped, but barely.
He took a bracing breath and toyed with the hem of his shirt, bare feet cold against the floor. This was stupid. He’d seen that Hobie was fine, now; that in itself felt creepy stalker-ish, and he cringed a little.
He should leave. He had school the next day, and waking up was gonna be a pain in the ass after this.
His throat bobbed as he turned around, hovering in the doorway, eyes burning.
He didn’t want to go.
“Miles?”
The breath caught in his lungs as he heard the sheets shift. He dared a peek over his shoulder, one hand still on the doorframe, to see his boyfriend sitting up slowly and blinking like his brain was taking a moment to come online.
“Baby, why’re ya here? What’s wrong?” Hobie asked, breathy and slurring a little, eyes widening as he flipped the sheets aside and started to get out of bed. “Wh—”
“Nothing,’ Miles replied quickly. Too quickly, based on the suspicious look Hobie sent his way, and it made guilt spike in his chest. “It’s nothing, I’m sorry.”
Hobie studied him for a moment, before the tension bled out of him and he sagged back against the mattress. “S’not nothing if you’re here, innit,” he murmured, high cheekbones lit up soft in a sliver of moonlight from his window. “Come ‘ere.”
He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “It’s really nothing. I should let you get back to sl—”
“Miles.” Hobie’s voice was stern, underscored with a pleading tone that made Miles feel a little bit like crying. “You can’t lie to me, love. I ain’t gonna let ya spend the night alone like this, so come here.”
The sleeves of his sweatshirt stretched taut as he pulled them into his palms, sucking down a deep breath as he nodded. Hobie’s pallet had just enough space for two, if they maneuvered right; they had it down to a routine, now, but still the way Hobie lifted his arm like he knew exactly where Miles would want to be made Miles’s throat tight.
Miles dropped to his knees, twisting so that he could press his back to Hobie’s chest, head pillowed on Hobie’s bicep. They fit together like puzzle pieces, same as they always did; the broad hand spreading low over his ribs grounded him. Made sure he didn’t drift apart.
“Was it the nightmare again?” Hobie mumbled, the words brushing Miles’s hair, and he huffed a mirthless laugh.
“Yeah. Don’t have any others.”
“Hm. Guessin’ I had the pleasure of starring tonight?”
His boyfriend’s voice was sleep-raspy, deeper than usual. It reverberated in his bones as he made a weak sound of assent.
Hobie sighed, tucking his fingertips beneath Miles’s side to get him to turn around. Miles flipped, pulling at the blankets so they wouldn’t go askew, but the punk eased them from his grip to press Miles’s palm flat to his chest. “You feel that?”
A steady thump, right beneath where Hobie was holding his hand in place. Miles flexed his fingers and dug them into the thin fabric of Hobie’s worn sleep shirt.
“I’m alright, darlin’,” Hobie breathed, letting his other arm settle over the dip of Miles’s waist. “I’m fine. We’re fine. It’s over now. Nothing bad’s gonna happen, yeah?”
If it were anyone else Miles would have snapped at them to shut up before they jinxed it, but this was Hobie. Hobie, who looked at him with something so tender that it made Miles ache, all the way deep in his bones with the blatant faith woven into the words and leaving no room for any other possibility. The too-tight coil in his sternum began to give.
“That’s it. I’m okay. We’re okay, now.”
Long, lean arms wrapped around Miles’s back, pulling him in until he was pressed to Hobie’s chest, tucked up small and safe. Up this close Hobie’s heartbeat was a thrum in his ears if he used his heightened senses, strong enough of a lull that his own heart started to sync, and all of a sudden the exhaustion hit him like a truck.
It was like a dam breaking, the way his body finally relented to the nights upon nights of barely any sleep, the constant fight-or-flight making his heart skitter. “I’m tired.”
“I know,” Hobie hushed gently, rubbing a thumb into Miles’s hairline to kiss his temple. “I know, love. Sleep.”
“I’m scared.” He hadn’t realised how true the words were until he’d said them; he was sick of closing his eyes just to replay different, crueler versions of a memory that had already happened. He bit his lip until it hurt. “I don’t— I don’t wanna see it again, Hobie, I’m so tired.”
The way Hobie looked at him after that wrenched something tight in his chest; eyes wide, mouth pinched like he was trying to temper his emotions the way Miles so often did.
His eyes flickered over Miles’s face, almost desperate if not for the determined edge to his gaze. “They stop when you’re with me, yeah?” He exhaled shakily at Miles’s slow nod, pressing his brow to Miles’s hair. “Then stay with me. Stay here with me.”
Miles smiled a little, close-lipped and slightly sad. “Where else would I go?”
“I meant in your head, baby.” Hobie swallowed, thumbs smoothing over Miles’s cheekbones, palms warm against his skin. “Stay with me. Don’t go where I can’t follow.”
Easier said than done.
But easier done here than done alone. Easier with Hobie curled into him like a missing half, warm enough to stave off the bitter chill of a London night.
He looked into deep, dark eyes and tried not to shake. Took a deep breath and let it out slow. “Don’t let me leave,” Miles murmured, half-hidden where he bent to press his cheek to Hobie’s shoulder. A pleasant shiver wracked up his spine when Hobie pulled him close again, their legs tangling. Don’t leave.
“I won’t.” The words were whispered next to Miles’s ear, near enough that Miles could feel it in Hobie’s chest when he spoke. “I’m stayin’ right here, so stay with me. Alright?”
Miles skated his fingers over Hobie’s side, up his scapula to curl into his shoulder. In the dim light he could just make out a jumble of words on Hobie’s collarbone where his shirt was pulling down, but he didn’t bother to read them; the arm tightening around his waist said it all, as did the pulse fluttering metronome-steady beneath Hobie’s jaw.
He pressed his nose to it. Felt warmth and blood and life, right there against his breath, under his hands, blooming against the pulse beneath his own ribs.
Sleep beckoned him, gentle for the first time in a long time. Miles suspected it had something to do with how Hobie was stroking a palm up and down his spine, free hand pulling the blankets up until Miles was tucked in, cocooned in darkness and soft touch and warm skin.
Ridiculous, how something as simple as being held by the boy he loved could settle so much turmoil inside his head.
“Rest. I’ll be here when ya wake up,” Hobie coaxed, his voice steeped in fondness, laced molasses-sweet with something heavy, and it called to Miles gentler than anything else. “I promise.”
Miles weighed the words across his mind, Hobie’s heartbeat in his ear.
He closed his eyes and let it lull him into slumber.
fin.
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gaybananabread · 7 months
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Congrats on the follower milestone! If you're still taking orders, may I please have switches Gwen and Hobie (Gwen as the original lee) with pears and/or oranges?? They've become somewhat of a comfort duo for me, hehe :)<
Fruit(s): Pears, Oranges
Love these two! Writing for them is always fun, though all the spider scrimblos have a vice grip on my brain. Hobie gives off such asshole switch vibes, I can’t even- Went a little overboard with this one, but I have no regrets. (UvU) Back on topic, thank you for ordering your fruits, and I hope you Enjoy!
Switches: Gwen, Hobie
Summary: Gwen is struggling with her self-image, the negative thoughts creeping in as she stresses out. Hobie has the perfect way to help, and while it cheers her up, things don’t exactly go how he expects them to.
Warnings: poor self-image/esteem topic! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!
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Gwen stared up at the ceiling of Hobie’s inner houseboat, letting her thoughts drift. They weren’t going anywhere good.
She had failed so much as-of-late. Her dad discovering her secret identity, the anomalies getting out of control, the Spot’s wave of leftover destruction, everything with Miles… Even though none of those were truly her fault, it really felt that way; her mind took those feelings as grim, guilty facts. Growing tired of his bedroom ceiling, Gwen grabbed a pillow, burying her teary face in it. Maybe smothering herself in her sorrows would help…
Hobie slunk into the room, his cheeky smile falling the moment he saw Gwen’s sulking form. The punk sat on the edge of his bed, the old mattress sinking in with his weight. He poked the pillow, making Gwen huff. “Hey…what’s goin’ on, Gwendy?”
The girl groaned into the soft object, shrugging. “‘M fine…” The muffled lie was barely audible, but Hobie’s keen hearing caught it clear as day. So, so much was running through her mind, but she couldn’t burden her friend with those thoughts. Best to figure it out herself…probably.
Damn it, Gwen… A large, calloused hand rested on her stomach, one finger drawing small circles around the thin fabric of her t-shirt. “Not buyin’ that, sweetheart. You need some cheerin’ up?”
Small giggles slipped past her guarded lips, muffled by the pillow. As much as she wanted to deal with everything herself, some comfort would be nice. Especially the kind Hobie was suggesting… Gwen mumbled an “mm-hm” into the fabric, not pushing him away. That was all the lanky teen needed to get started.
Hobie lightly tickled her stomach, his fingers doing figure-eights against her shirt. The other teen’s feet started to drum on the bed, muffled giggles making their way to his ears. It was adorable, the way she let him cheer her up with the silly touch. It was clear the tickles were helping. “Aww, Gwenny, all ya had to do was ask.”
To anyone outside their inner circle, this might’ve seemed strange. She just let him tickle her like that? Yeah, she did; that girl was practically melting. In the midst of her bleak thoughts, a little fluff and silliness was like heaven. Tickling in general made her happy, but the gentle stuff from someone she cared about to cheer her up? Immediate serotonin release.
As much as he loved her muffled giggles, he was after a bigger reaction. The punk climbed further onto her bed, sitting on her thighs so she couldn’t kick him. Hobie grabbed the pillow, tugging it away from her face. The bright red cheeks and wobbly smile he was greeted with made him snicker. “Hey, girlie. No hidin’ those giggles; they’re too cute for jus’ the pillow ta hear.”
She whined through the adorable sound, half-heartedly batting at his hands. “H-Hohohobie! Quhihit teheasing!” To be honest, she loved the teases, but her cheeks were red enough without the cheeky words. “Sorry, but ya too cute to not tease. ‘M sure you’ll survive.” He slipped a finger under her shirt, scratching at her navel with a smug grin.
Gwen squealed, shooting upwards and shoving at his hand. “H-HOHOhohobiehe! You prihihick! Dohon’t do thahat!” 
So, of course, he kept doing that.
Pushing her shoulder back down to the mattress, Hobie slid her shirt up, scribbling all around her poor belly button. Gwen practically screeched, her feet kicking out behind the anarchist as she frantically shoved at him. “G-KYAAAH! YOUHUHU DIHIHICK! NAHAHAHA!” 
That got a snort out of the older spider, his cool rings sending goosebumps across her skin as he “tormented” her. “Heard of a giggle button, but I never knew ya could have a “lose your damn mind” button. I’ll be sure to remember that one.”
The rougher tickles, while unexpected, were still helping, They helped to drown out the rest of her sour thoughts, replacing the sticky guilt with bright, raucous laughter and giddy glee. Gwen was about at her limit though, his evil fingers pulling squeak after squeal from her wobbly lips. “H-HOBS! IHI CAHAHAN’T- QUIT!”
He huffed, not wanting to go too far. The punk switched from pokes to rubs, patting and massaging her buzzing tum to try and dull the ticklish aftershocks. The girl huffed and giggled, recovering from the brief, yet effective goofiness. “Th-thahanks Hobs. I needed thahat.” 
The punk laid down beside her, grabbing the pillow from earlier and smacking her with it. “Any time, Gwendy. Just gotta ask.” 
Gwen yelped when the fluffy thing smacked her face, her spider sense warning her just a second too late; her subconscious apparently didn’t deem pillows a threat. She was about to hit him back when she realized she had a great opportunity to be a shit. Even though she loved it, payback could be given…heheh. 
Pouncing out of nowhere, she wrestled with her friend, eventually managing to pin him to the bed. While he was a bit stronger, she had caught him by surprise, throwing him off his game. Gwen playfully wiggled her fingers in front of him, smirking. “TIme for a taste of your own medicine, Hobie~”
Before he could protest, five nimble fingers dug into his belly while the other pinned his arms above his head. Hobie didn’t care to hold anything in, just letting the giggles flow as he squirmed. It was apparently the wrong day for him to wear a crop top. “B-buhut yohou liked ihihit!”
She snickered, letting her acrylic nails drag across his midsection. “Maybe. Doesn’t mean I can’t get you back.” Gwen gave his hips a squeeze, giggling as the punk snorted. “Besides, you like it just as much.” 
Hobie took the extra effort to flip her off, making the other teen squawk. She was right, of course; he was barely fighting back, enjoying the turnabout. Scorned and feeling brave, Gwen leaned her head down, blowing a sudden raspberry on his navel. That did it.
“G-GWEHEHEN! WHAHA’ THE FAHAHACK?!” She snorted at his words, sitting back up with a smirk. “You flipped me off, you jerk! Totally deserved.” She went back to his hips, appreciating his low-waisted jeans as she traced little shapes onto his upper hips. “Loving your outfit, by the way. Very ler-friendly.”
He groaned, bucking his hips as more little snorts decorated his laugh. His hips always had him sounding like a piglet. “Sh- snrk shuhuhut uhup! Thaha’ wahahasn’t on puhuhurpose!” 
She was about to tease him again, but a low whirr sounded in the room, a few knick-knacks slowly floating up in the room; one of their friends was visiting Hobie’s dimension.
“Damn it. You’re lucky, Hobs.” She pinched his side one last time before climbing off him, going to greet whoever just arrived. It was probably Pav, coming over for one of their unprompted game nights. 
Hobie giggled off the rest of the adrenaline, rubbing his exposed belly and staring up at the ceiling. He had trained those shits too well…
Taking a deep breath, the punk hauled himself out of the bed, grabbing his guitar from the corner before leaving the bedroom. Hobie hadn’t planned on getting tickled, though he was glad he helped Gwen cheer up. Even if it was a bit unconventional. Then again, what was normal about any of them? He greeted Pav, a smile still on his face as he grabbed out Clue for their game night.
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the-kr8tor · 2 months
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Hi! could you please do a fluff+comfort of Hobie comforting reader that is struggling with choosing what their gonna follow in college/university, and could the reader be non binary please, thank you!
(also I love BDAS it's single handedly feeding my need for pirate Hobie, and your writing is absolutely amazing🧡)
(this is also my first time making a request so could I be 🃏 anon if it's free please)
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Thank you for requesting! And welcome 🃏 anon!! (Sorry this took so long, I hope you found the right major for you! ❤️) I hope you like it!
Pairing: Hobie Brown x nb! Reader/ Spider-Punk x nb! Reader
Tags: No use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader, CW food mentions, hurt/comfort, fluff.
ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ
University pamphlets are scattered all over the floor of your bedroom, knees tucked under you, eyes glaring at the dozens of papers laid in front of you. You have no idea which college to go to or even what major to take. Your hand trembles once again at the thought of losing time, wasting the precious minutes as the clock tick tocks on your side table.
You know you want something to do with art, but there's so many options that it makes your head swirl with all the names of possible majors. Thumping your head on the side of your bed, frustrated doesn't quite describe the feeling you have right now.
The carpet under you is suddenly itchy under your legs, the soft tick tocks are ringing in your ears like a damn gong inside your head.
Your curtains shift, the familiar sound of the window opening and closing isn't much of a surprise around this time of the night.
Hobie's shoes land quietly on your floors, he takes it off quickly before the soles stain your floors. Walking silently, he shifts his eyes at the red numbers on the clock, then to your hunched form. The plastic in his hand crinkles as he drops it on the foot of your bed, careful not to spill.
He pokes your cheeks, gloved hand against your soft skin. “You're contemplating again. Your pout makes you look like a bloody trout.” Sitting down, you don't acknowledge him. Now he's properly concerned. “Oi,” he goes to the softer approach by sliding his hand behind your neck, kneading it gently. “Hunchback of Notre dame, are you alright?”
You snort, finally looking at him through sticky tear drenched lashes. “Did you just call me Quasimodo?”
“Who the fuck is Quasimodo?”
Finally letting out a chuckle, the sound melts his concerns a tad bit. “The hunchback of Notre dame,” you say matter-of-factly. “We need to watch the movie now, Hobie.”
“Right, and then you'll fall asleep again like last time hmm?” Hobie tilts his head, the simple act makes you want to smooch the smirk off his face.
Moonlight spills in your room, illuminating his handsome face. He adds insult to injury when he slides his hands down to your back, pulling you in then embracing you. His smell wafts over you, relaxing your tensed muscles.
“See, already fallin’ asleep.” He murmurs against the crown of your head as you make his chest your home.
“I don't know what to do.” You blurt out, and he pulls you in, impossibly closer to him that you two almost become one.
“You'll figure it out, like you always do.” His hand is splayed atop your waist, squeezing slightly to ease you further into relaxing.
“I don't have the time to figure it all out, Hobie.”
“Yes you bloody do.” He takes your face in his hand, patting your cheek with his thumb, index laying on your temple, carefully massaging the tight muscle. His voice is soft and full of certainty, no ounce of malice. “Look at all these colleges,” he picks up one pamphlet nearest to him. “And— I don't think anyone's this happy to go to college.” He jokes, showing you the model's wide grin. “Look at this happy bloke carrying his books that must've cost an entire month's rent!”
You laugh into his suit, the sound reverberates through his bones, almost making him dance. “I could be that happy. If I can just choose.”
“You can be that happy, love. I know you can, yeah?” He shakes your shoulders. “I was saying before this fiend—” he wiggles the paper in his hand, and you chuckle, “Stopped me, is that all of these unis and majors would be happy to have you. They'd be fucking lucky to be chosen by you.”
Sniffing, you crane your neck to peck his cheek. It earns a content sigh from Hobie.
“That worked?” He asks through his smile, fingers taking a fallen eyelash off your cheek. “Make a wish?”
“Of course it worked, Hobie. You could say anything in that voice of yours and kiss the living hell out of me and it would still cheer me up.” With a gentle blow, you make your wish.
“Anythin' huh?” He pokes your side with a teasing smile. “What'd you wish for?”
“If I tell you it wouldn't come true now would it?”
“If I bribe you with a sandwich from that place you like, will you tell me?” He twists his long arm, patting the crunching plastic.
“Maybe…” you narrow your eyes. “Add a kiss for good measure?”
He's already leaning in, lips brushing along yours. “Mm-hmm bribery, when did I stoop so low?” Smiling, he presses sweetly on your lips.
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felinecryptid · 11 months
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this world is nothing without you (life is here only if you are)
hobie feels at home at pav's
Hobie knocked on the frosted green glass window for the third time. If Pav didn't open it, he was going to sneak in. Normally, he'd sneak in without knocking, but the last (which was also the first and only) time he snuck in, he got smacked in the face with a black umbrella by Maya Auntie.
Hobie decided to never sneak in again because Maya Auntie did not set off his spider senses and he wasn't very particularly keen to have a face full of umbrella again.
The knocks echoed in the narrow alley right below Pav's window. A random passerby looked up to find the source and Hobie flattened himself on the ledge above Pav's window. He'd rather not get seen today if he could help it, because people seemed to think he was a robber. Again, it wouldn't be a huge problem if people thought he was a robber, but today he was on a mission. A personal mission.
There had been a small fight with a 'villain of the week' in Gwen's world, and Hobie had noticed Pav looking a lil bit peaky after the fight. Hobie tried to get a hold of him, but he disappeared quickly from the scene, leaving Hobie to deal with the stick up Miguel's ass alone. The moment Hobie was free from the clutches of the man baby, he set off to Pav's house.
The night had fallen and rain was still falling, when he had stepped onto Pav's roof in Mumbattan. A quick climb down to the fourth floor and there he had been, knocking for Pav to open the fucking window.
The suspicious passerby ceased looking for him, quickly hurrying down the alley, probably thinking they are avoiding a mugger, Hobie assumed, swinging down to the window as soon as they were out of sight. If only they knew there were two spidermen nearby, Hobie thought, slightly shaking his head.
Pav still hadn't opened the window.
Hobie seriously debated going in through the air vent. He could probably fit in there if he tried hard enough, he studied the narrow opening next to the window.
Something clattered inside. "Pav," He called, "Is'at you?"
No reply. More clattering.
"Pav?" He called out, voice louder.
The window swung in abruptly, revealing the worried face of Maya Auntie. Fucking shit.
"What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?" Maya Auntie hissed with the ferocity of a thousand cats. So much for not getting caught. "Do your parents know you are here, hmm?"
Hobie stumbled on his words. He did not want to piss Maya Auntie off. She was one of the few adults Hobie respected. For obvious reasons. "Umm, yeah they told me I could visit Pav when I told them he looked kinda pale today," He lied, you know, like a liar. Maya Auntie didn't know he had no parents, didn't know they were spidermen and swung through the multiverse on a regular basis to beat the ass of selfish people who didn't get their way and threw a genetically modified fit, didn't know how much Pav meant to him, didn't know he wasn't from this universe.
But she did know it was him who she smacked for trying to sneak in months ago because the next question out of her mouth was, "Why can't you use the main door like a normal human being?"
He couldn't sass her- He couldn't sass her-
"-Because I don't want you to fall down, okay? Consider this your own home and use the front door, beta, it's very unsafe."
"Okay, Auntie."
"Good, come in," She said, moving away from the window. Hobie swung in. "Next time you are going to use the front door, no climbing walls like hooligans," Maya Auntie said in a stern voice and Hobie nodded, like he had the full intention to obey her. "He's sleeping because he has high fever, don't wake him up before 10, he needs to sleep for the tablets to work." She said, gesturing at Pav, sleeping curled around his pillow on the bed.
"Got it."
"Okay then," his Aunt looked around the room, "Kamre ka kabada kar rakha hai ladke ne, jidhar dekho kapde aur kitab, tch, mehman baithane ko jagaa nahi hai," She muttered unintelligibly before looking straight at him, "Hobie beta, what do you want to eat? Vada Pav, Besan ke ladoo or Jalebi?"
***
Hobie sat in Pav's room, at his table, reading a colour coded handwritten periodic table stuck to the wall, with a plate full of food he couldn't pronounce. What a priss, Hobie's heart swelled with affection looking at the numerous charts of scientific notes on the wall.
"Hobie." Pav snifffed lightly, his voice slightly hoarse.
Hobie turned around to look at Pav. He was almost completely under the thick blanket, his beautiful hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, eyes shiny with sleep.
"What are you doing here?"
"You guys don' got no other questions to ask?" Hobie said, no real fire in his words.
Pav laughed. "I heard. Sorry you had to get interrogated like that," He shrugged weakly.
"Nah," Hobie started, "It was fine."
Pav hummed. "What are you eating?" He asked after a while of simply staring up at the ceiling.
"I dunno their names, bruv. One of these is an orange curly lookin' thing tha' is syrupy and the other is, also curly, but its spicier than the orange ones,"
"Oh, Jalebi and Bhakarwadi."
"I didn' understand a lick of what you said."
"That's just what they're called."
"You'll 'ave to teach me tha' some other time," Hobie leant back in Pav's chair, popping one of the spicy things into his mouth.
"Sure'm," Pav mumbled, visibly falling asleep. "Come here?"
Hobie wordlessly slid into his bed, sitting near the head, softly caressing his hair, even after he had drifted off to sleep. Not even an hour later, Hobie had fallen asleep too.
___
Chaipunk sickfic bc im down w fever too and i needed to get comfort somewhere
im delirious on painkillers as im writing it, so feel free to point out errors i have definitely missed, bc i didnt even read this a second time
title (translated) from soch na sake
translation
Kamre ka kabada kar rakha hai ladke ne, jidhar dekho kapde aur kitab, tch, mehman baithane ko jagaa nahi hai - boy makes the room looks like a trashcan, clothes and books lying wherever you look, tch, there's no place for guests to sit (she's referring to personal guests here bc family or neighbours get seated in the living room/dining table while friends usually go to their personal room)
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womanofwords · 11 months
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Snuggle Buddies
Miles was not used to Spider-Society, so he was still being jump-scared at every possible opportunity. Spideys climbing up the walls and floor, different variants of villains, literally everyone being Spiderman, how the floor was an ocean of (mostly) blue and red. However, after a while, he got fairly used to it.
Until he saw Pavitr Prabhakar snuggled on a sofa, sniffling and holding a huge stuffed octopus. “Pav?” he said cautiously. Pavitr sat up hurriedly.
“Hi, Miles,” Pavitr said. “You do not need to check on me. I am completely fine.” His eyes were rimmed red and he had cheeks stained with tears. He was clearly lying.
Miles sighed. “Pavitr, you’re Spiderman. And part of being Spiderman means-”
“With great power comes great responsibility,” Pavitr said. “I know.”
“That you’re terrible at lying,” Miles finished. Pavitr giggled and blushed with embarrassment. “Now, what is wrong?”
“I just feel a little touch-starved. Gayatri’s on a month-long family trip to America to meet relatives and go to Disneyworld, and I sort of hang out alone at school. I just started holding things whenever it gets really bad.” Pavitr gestured to the stuffed octopus in his arms. “This belongs to Mayday. She left it behind one day and I can’t stop snuggling it.”
“Why didn’t you just tell someone?” Miles asked, rubbing Pavitr’s back in small circles the way that his mother used to do. “You could have told me, or Gwen, or Hobie.”
“You guys are all busy. I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You are not a bother. You never were. You’re like a little ray of sunshine.” Miles picked him up and put him over his shoulder. “Now, let’s go find Gwen and Hobie.”
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_
Gwen and Hobie were walking together and talking happily when Miles appeared with a sniffling Pav over his shoulder. “Hi, Miles,” Gwen said.
“What’s up with Pav? Is he hurt?” Hobie asked.
“He’s touch-starved and needs emergency snuggles,” Miles said. “Where can we get a room?” Hobie sniggered.
“You don’t need to ask them, I’ll be fine,” Pavitr sniffled.
“Oh, that’s it, man!” Hobie plucked Pavitr off Miles’ shoulders like he weighed nothing. “Come on.” Hobie walked away, forcing Gwen and Miles to jog to keep up. Eventually, they arrived to a room full of pillows and blankets. Hobie sat down with Pavitr, wrapping themselves up in a large blanket. “Now, you know you can talk to us, right? Literally whenever you need.”
“OK, Hobie,” Pavitr sleepily replied, snuggling closer. Hobie rubbed at Pavitr's head.
“You’re a sweet’eart, you know that?” Hobie whispered. “Trying to be considerate of us. I will drop anything for you.” Pavitr squirmed. “Am I doing something wrong?”
“It tickles!” he giggled. “Hobie, your-” He bit his tongue as the punk grinned and tickled his armpits witless, occasionally letting out the occasional snort.
“There we go,” Hobie cooed. “Let it all out. We love you, but we need to teach you a proper lesson.”
“Whahahat?” Pavitr giggled.
“Well, you need to learn to advocate for yourself,” Hobie explained, as Pavitr giggled. “Before it gets to this state. Now, are you an adorable little thing who’s going to tell us when he’s down?”
“I didn’t want to be any trouble!” Pavitr giggled, squealing as his ribs played with.
“Sorry, can’t hear ya. Playing with my wonderful new guitar,” Hobie taunted. Pavitr tried to escape, but the blanket had encased him with Hobie, who was grinning down at him.
“Do you think we should help?” Miles asked.
“Hobie or Pav?” Gwen asked. “Oh, I’m just kidding. They’re both fine.”
“Wise choice,” Hobie said, before disappearing underneath the blanket. The room echoed with Pavitr’s screams of laughter.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Pavitr screamed.
“What spot did he get to now?” Miles asked.
“Judging by the hopeless thrashing, all of them,” Gwen grinned.
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Fanfiction idea, tag me if you made it because I wanna read it too
So... Miguel O'Hara has certainly found himself in a situation he didn't think before. He was in a mission with Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Pavitr Prabhakar, and Hobie Brown in catching another anomaly and then after the anomaly capture and mission success, that's when Miles, Gwen, Hobie, and Pav were shot with the anomaly's ray gun and now... Now, Miguel is in his office with the 3 month old baby versions of Miles, Gwen, Hobie, and Pav.... The effect will wear off in 2 months, that's what Lyla said so in the meantime he has to take care of these 4. Miles and Pav are clingy babies and will cry whenever Miguel isn't holding them while Miguel is going to have a headache because it looks like Gwen and Hobie are the type of babies that are determined to get themselves killed.
When the day comes where it'll be their last days as babies and tomorrow they'll be teenagers without the memories of what happened in the two months, he is going to miss being a father again, since Gabriella's death, he wasn't able to become a parent until them being turned into babies happened and now? He's crying and mourning already. When they turned teenagers again the next day, they won't remember anything that had happened but Miguel does. He'll just wave it off and do a nonchalant explanation on what happened the past two months but they won't know is that he has a framed picture of them as babies on his desk where he'll remember the moment where he became a father again.
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k-kroomie · 11 months
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Should've known better
Ship: Punkflower/ Hobie x Miles
Warning this contains; Death of a character, Gore, Blood, Claw marks, Miguel(mentioned), Angst no comfort, cussing, ect.
This is very sad. I do not apologize😋🤗
Hobie Brown was tired, he's been sent on more then 4 missions today by that ass Miguel and he also had to deal with some stuff on the way back to his flat kick up his feet and relax. What he couldn't wait on was for Miles to come over. The thought made him get home quicker so he could shower and at least clean up a few of the wounds he had gotten.
It was nothing he couldn't handle, some glass in his thigh, scratches and bruises on his legs, chest and shoulders, and a few cuts on his back. Nothing major. He'd worry about that once he got home.
Hobie swang in through his window, closing it behind him, leaving it cracked for Miles to come in once he got here. The first thing he noticed was a horrible smell coming from his kitchen. It was horrible, and it smelled like something was rotting. Hobie knows that some of his food is about a few days old, but he didn't think it smelled that bad.
Hobie pulled his mask off his head, his face scrunching up at the smell. He walked father into the flat scratching under his nose piercing. He walked past the kitchen table towards the bathroom only to stop in his tracks and turn towards his counter. There on the counter was a brown box, it was closed and it had an envelope propped up against it.
Something was off about the box, though it looked wet at the bottom, and it didn't look like it was closed all the way and what looked like a piece of curly brown hair(?) was stuck out in between the folds of the horribly tapped box.
Hobie thought maybe it was one of his friends trying to scare him or play a joke. Hobie walked up to the box and grabbed the envelope, tearing it open and reading it outloud-
'Dear, HOBIE BROWN' well it must be his friends, they are the only ones who know his name and the land lord of course. But the thing that kind messed with his head is that he doesn't know anyone with this type of hand writing, 'You keep on disobeying me and next time I'll kill more then one of your little flings.' Hobie's eyes widened as he dropped the paper and ripped open the box.
The smell only had gotten worse as he ripped back the tap and opened the box. His eyes stared in complete shock and horror as two lifeless eyes stared back at him. Now Hobie's seen his fair share of horrific things, shit he uses his guitar to bash people heads in and knock them off people's body's. He wouldn't usually be this horrified by the sight of HIS BOYFRIENDS, head in the box all blooded and bruises. it looked like they shaved his eyebrows. One of his ears was cut off, and he had ever colored bruis on his face. The once alive, talking, laughing, smiling, BREATHING Miles. Was now a dead, lifeless head in a box on his counter in his apartment.
Hobie slide down leaning against the counter and now sitting on the floor with the box in his hands. He sat the box in between his legs and carefully picked up up his use to be boyfriends head. He didn't mind the blood but God he wished it was someone else's head he was pulling out the box. Someone else's boyfriend, Someone else's reason to smile, someone else's reason to laugh. Not his, He wishes it wasn't he's, Happiness. Wasn't His Boyfriend Wasn't His Miles.
He closed his eyes, tears falling from his face. Each tear creating a river of its own on his face. His flat was dead silent. Hobie cried as he held what once brought him so much joy, so much life. His Miles, the person who took the time and listened to why he viewed certain things that way instead of shoving him off. His Miles, the person who made dumb corny jokes and attempts to flirt with him. HIS MILES, the person who helped him with his wounds with tears in his eyes even when Hobie told him he was okay and that he would heal fast. HIS MILES WAS DEAD. GONE AND NEVER COMING BACK.
Hobie sat there crying on the floor for 2 almost 3 hours before he finally opened his eyes looking down in the eyes of Miles, they stared lifelessly back st him. Hobie ran his fingers through Miles hair. Pausing before re running his hands over the back of Miles head. Hobie slowly turned Miles head around now staring at the back of his head.
Hobie eyes widened as he looked at the marks off the back of Miles's head. It looked swollen like he had been hit, but then there were these claws marks four claw marks. Hobie feels like he's seen this before, these claw ma . . . . . rks.
He remembers these. These are the same marks that were on Jess legs that one time. That one time Miguel didn't inject himself, when he wasn't in his right state of mind and he attacked everyone. He saw these same shape marks on Jess 2 months ago now he's seeing the same marks on the back of his now dead boyfriends head.
To say Hobie was angry was an understatement. Hobie was fucking pissed, and when he got pissed Hobie got violent and when he got violent that means needed to beat somethings with his guitar or maybe this time, just this once he needed to be someone with his guitar. He knew just who. Hobie gently sat Miles head back in the box and got up off the ground.
Hobie shuffled back into his room, not bothering to even put his guitar over his shoulder. He opened a portal to HQ it was like he was on autopilot. He pulled his mask down on his face and walked into the portal, not caring about the blood on his hands and suit. One thing running through his head, HE WAS GOING TO KILL MIGUEL.
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samlacy · 9 months
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Sunsets at the beach
(red dots I fell in love with)
“I wanna be yours, only yours”
Silence hit his face, not a good one.
“I can’t, I’m sorry”
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Wind was swaying through the empty beach, causing small waves to move by each few seconds.
The Sun was at its lowest almost as the sky turned orange by the second.
Giggles and the splashing of waves were the only sounds to be heard.
You were running the best you could through the sand, flip flops in your hands as your towel was around your neck. The pair of swimming shorts were matching with your top. Black with red dots.
Hobie’s favorite colors. Perhaps the guy that was chasing you through the whole beach, the guy that made you laugh so much at the moment.
As you looked back at him, with no intention you tripped over something unknown and fell right on the soft sand. You were on your fours and you heard the footsteps behind you stop, the silence broken off with a loud laugh from Hobie.
You giggled with him as you turned around and sat on your butt while facing the ocean with the sun.
Hobie smiled and decided to sit right next to you, oddly close enough for you to hear his heavy breathing.
“That was quite a run, right?” you joked as you tilted your head back, eyes closed, and sighed.
The smile never left.
Hobie chuckled. His eyes drifted towards you and inspected you one by one. Up and down. You looked angelic, the most beautiful person he ever saw probably.
To his surprise you turned your head to him, catching him in the act of looking at you. Hobie looked away to his front, arms resting on his knees as he fidgeted with the towel in his hands.
Now you were the one chuckling at him as you smiled to yourself.
“Look! The sun is setting”, he mentioned, pointing his finger towards the waves.
You looked and awed at the beauty. It truly did feel unreal, like a dream. All of this felt like a dream.
“So pretty”, you muttered, lips shaping an ‘o’.
“Not as pretty as you”
Wait, what?
“What?”, you asked with widened eyes as you looked towards him.
“What?”, Hobie replied, avoiding eye contact on purpose as he fixated his eyes to the front.
“Nothing”, you mumbled and looked back to the waves, trying to ignore the fact you might have heard Hobie call you pretty.
The past minutes passed like this. Listening to waves hit the end, splashes of water, birds chirping and a few cars pass by from the road behind them.
“Did you ever come here with someone?”, You decided to ask Hobie, to ease up the tension that for some reason was there.
“No, you are the first one actually”, he admits as he forms a smile on his face.
You ‘oh’d and enjoyed the wind hitting your face, cooling your body down each second. You didn’t expect much from this hangout, ready to go home soon and then meet up Hobie again for—
“I’m saying, I like you”
—another hangout.
Did you hear that right? Like seriously? Was your tinnitus now speaking to you..
“What”, the amount of times you said that today was immaculate, but it could bother you less since you heard Hobie say something totally strange.
He gathered up his breathe, trying his best to maintain his control “I like you, genuinely. Do you feel the same?”
Do you? On a serious note, do you?
Yes, you do. But were you ready for a relationship? Absolutely not.
Communication was the hardest thing for you, not only now, always.
“No, I don’t”, it came out more harsh than you have expected it to. Were you seriously crazy? What now.
“Oh, right”, sigh “Well, it was really a nice time with you while it lasted”
You heard the way Hobie tried his best to hold back the tears from completely bursting. He still was not looking at you, even when he stood up and decided to leave.
Your body froze, you couldn’t move an inch. No words were leaving your mouth anytime soon. This all ended, only because of your choice of words.
It really did, didn’t it?
You felt wet tears roll down your cheeks with no intention to. You didn’t know why nor when it started.
But you knew it was not gonna end anytime soon.
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