echekate

[echekate]

Layover

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Summary: A trip home brings something unexpected. A second chance perhaps?

Word count: 4.3k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothes), cw food mentions, cw suggestive, ex! Hobie, second chance love, lovestruck! Hobie, Fluff.

A/N: Happy octobie!!

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Octobie 🎸

Buy me a ☕?

When you ran through the airport while clutching your luggage you expected disgruntled passengers from all walks of life. And when you reached the counter expecting to be checked in like usual, you didn't anticipate for your flight to be delayed because of the snow storm raging outside. You just thought that the plane could handle it, you were very wrong. With the bottoms of your jeans drenched from wading through skin biting snow, and with your luggage checked in without having the foresight to grab a pair of fresh pants beforehand; you stand in line for the complementary cup of tea that probably tastes like sink water.

Everything has gone off the rails that you started to anticipate anything, from the earth swallowing you whole to a flock of birds suddenly entering the airport and attacking and pecking at your head— but never in a million years you’d see your ex standing in the middle of the rushing crowd looking disheveled but still as handsome as ever.

“Oh,” your breath gets stuck in your throat as the bright fluorescent lights above dim in your vision, and spotlights replace it— pointing directly at him while the crowd parts for him.

In slow motion, he turns his head and you see the recognition in his eyes just as he locks eyes with you through the haze of brief unfamiliarity. His lips curl into a smirk just like how you remembered it. His piercings glow as if the sun has come out just for him, melting the ice and snow outside. His hazel eyes roam over your discombobulated expression, you must look like a fish out of water right now.

“Miss?” The vendor’s voice behind you wakes you up from your foggy thoughts. “Your order?”

“Uh…” turning around, you try to gather your words, but it seems that Hobie has taken it all from your lips. “I—”

“Earl grey, two sugars and a splash of milk.” His voice sounds close, ever closer as he sidles up next to you. When you gaze upon him, he's already looking at you with those eyes you loved. Still love. “Did I get it right?”

“Fucking hell.” You murmur, and his smile grows wider.

“Yeah, she still drinks it.” He nudges your shoulder, and you're frozen on the spot. You don't care enough to notice the barista making your drink lightning quick. “I'll take the same thing, no milk.”

“S-still lactose intolerant?” You try to sound confident even though you can feel his warmth through his jacket, it still has the same patches you lovingly sewn on it.

“I don't think they found a cure for that yet.”

“Yeah, I don't think so too.” You say in a small voice, basking in his presence. As if you two didn't amicably break up two years ago, as if you still don't long for him— or don't love him anymore. Well, you still do, but you're trying (and failing) very hard to convince him and yourself otherwise.

He grabs both of your drinks effortlessly in one hand, while the other takes you by your sleeve to pull you aside so that other people could order. Once you're parked into a corner and leaning on a pillar, (all the while not straying your eyes away from him) he gives you your drink, ringed fingers grazing your own.

“Hi, Hobie.” You finally smile, eyes twinkling from the bright lights.

“Hello, love.” His voice is low enough for you to hear, but not loud enough for other people to hear how lovestruck he is.

Your eyes are practically ogling him, he's in plaid, a long sleeve button down that you remember buying for him on a whim. Under the long sleeve is his old band shirt, the same one that you painstakingly silk printed with him and his band for hours in his houseboat. His leather jacket looks the same, save for a few new patches and stitches he mended, it practically didn't change in those two years.

He still wears all the things that remind him of you.

“You look good,” good is an understatement. He looks fucking fantastic. His hair is much longer now, and his skin still lacks worry lines as if he didn't age. There are a few more piercings than you remember, but the most glaring one is the one on his lip. It shines whenever he turns his head, and you wonder how many new piercings he may be hiding. “I see you still haven't thrown out that shirt.”

Hobie looks down, chuckling when he remembers what he's wearing. “You made this one.”

You scrunch up your nose that fades into fondness despite your thudding heart. The image of you and him sitting on the floor of his houseboat while eating take out makes you miss that life. It would be nice to hug him before bed, to tend to his wounds, to kiss him every time he goes out. To just be with him— you miss that life.

You've forgotten to take a sip from your cup, so you do to act normal. The drink warms you up just right, but with your eagerness to look somewhat normal in front of your ex, you choke on your tea.

“Oh shit,” Hobie, without thinking, like it's the most natural thing ever and still acting on instinct, pats your back. “You alright?” He chuckles at the ridiculous situation. He never thought flying back home from a gig would cause a chain reaction of him holding you again in a crowded airport. He smiles at the thought.

“You're laughing!” You cough out. All your stiffness fades away once you hear his laugh, you missed it so much. You missed him. “I'm choking here and you're laughing.” You have tears in your eyes, whether that's from choking on nothing or it's because of your longing. Either way, you must look horrible.

His palm continues to pat, and his smile never wavered, completely endeared by you. Completely in awe of you just by standing in front of him. He missed you.

“‘m not laughin’” You give him a stern look, cheeks practically in flames. “‘m not!” He briefly takes his hand off of you to grab at his water bottle peeking in between his bag zipper that's filled with numerous stickers. “‘ere, drink.”

You take the bottle from his hand as you continue to cough. He opens the lid for you before you could wheeze, and you down it immediately. Again, you've completely forgotten about your *own drink in your other hand.

“There,” he tamps down his chuckles as he sees water dribble from your chin. “Better?”

You groan, coughing out a few more times before you hand the bottle back to him. The fact that it once touched his lips flew over your head, but once the bottle was back in his hand, it hits you like a snowplow. Your stomach flips, and you panic, drinking from your hot tea again.

“Fuckin' hell, careful.” He chortles at your side eye. “Alright, choke on it, 'm ‘ere for a reason.”

You stop drinking, back leaning on the pillar, chest heaving. “Why are you here? You don't like flying.”

“I had to this time.”

“Business or pleasure?”

“What are you, airport security?” He jokes, shoulder leaning on the wall beside him, leg crossed over the other casually. That does things to you, making your palms sweaty. “Business actually, we had a gig ‘ere in Cardiff.”

You grin, “the band's here?”

“Nah, those lucky bastards took the earlier flight.” He says as he looks over to where he was standing before he walked over to you.

You furrow your brows, “oh, you're with someone?” Your heart deflated right in your chest. Is it wrong for you to feel this way when it's been two years since you last kissed him?

A ghost of a smirk briefly appears on his lips. “Nah, just me. I took a later flight so I could visit some places. Be a fuckin' tourist for once y’know?”

Your heart inflates back to life again. “That's nice, it's not everyday you get to actually fly and conquer your fears.”

He chuckles, “I wasn't that afraid.”

“You didn't want to go on that Germany trip with me because of it.” His smile wavers, and something passes by behind his eyes.

“Sorry.” You did not expect that. Today is just full of surprises isn't it? “You know I couldn't—”

“I know, Hobie.” You grab his arm without thinking, palm cradling his elbow. You give him enough time to move away, but he doesn't. “I know what I was getting into by dating a vigilante.” You whisper the last word.

“That was before anyway, now I have someone lookin' over the city while ‘m gone.” He softly smiles, eyes darting from your eyes down to your lips briefly. “‘m still grateful for you puttin’ up with my shit.”

“I think I deserve a medal for it actually.” You joke, moving to poke his side oh so casually.

“I don't know if they sell that in the shops ‘ere.”

You chortle, “you'd get me one?”

“Shit, I'd have it engraved with your name and everythin’”

The two of you continue to giggle and indulge in each other's presence. The PA system continues to echo out in the background, hundreds of shoes squeaking on the linoleum floors, and children busying themselves with their gameboys beeping above the murmured conversations of their parents. Every sound is muffled, his laugh is the only thing that you can hear, and his face is the only thing you could see under the harsh lights.

It's just you and him in the crowded place.

“Let's sit down, yeah? Our planes ain't goin’ anywhere.” He pats your shoulder, palm lingering for only a moment. Since the entire airport is packed with stranded passengers, all the seats are taken no matter how uncomfortable it is. Looking around, he bites the bottom of his lip when he doesn't see any benches or chairs left.

Your heart feels like escaping from your chest. “We can sit over there, near the window.” You point with your chin at a space big enough for the two of you.

“Good eye.” Hobie gives you his drink, and you furrow your brow in question until he bends his knees to grab your luggage and his bag. “C’mon then.”

With a small smile, you follow behind him as he carries the bags effortlessly. After weaving through the crowd, you two finally make it to the large window that displays the tarmac where planes are waiting around in the plush snow.

He sets your bag next to his own in the corner, sitting down on the carpet that is probably older than the two of you combined. Patting his side, you chuckle, cheeks warm but you still sit beside him. You're so close to him that your knees kiss his own, and you're only a hair width away from his lips when you turn to look at him.

His lips part, and you see his Adam's apple bop up and down as he swallows thickly. Your eyes glance at his lips, and you quickly look away, moving to the side even though there's not much space between you and the wall beside you.

Hobie clears his throat, smile hidden as he casually turns his head away from you. “Why are you ‘ere then?”

“Business.” You hand him his warm drink, and again, your fingers brush along his own. This time, you let your touch linger upon his own for a brief second more.

“I thought you're out ‘ere to wade through the snow.” He takes a sip from his cup, eyes flicking down towards the bottoms of your jeans where it's darker and wet from the snow.

“What?” You look down, and you immediately want to slap yourself for the blunder. “I-I forgot to grab a pair of pants before I checked in my luggage. I–it's very silly of me.”

Hobie chuckles lowly, finger absentmindedly playing with the cardboard cup sleeve. After two years, he can't believe you still have the ability to fluster him. “Tell you what, borrow my trousers, you could get sick from the cold.”

“I'm fine, Hobie. Besides, my flight's about to begin boarding any minute now.” A second after you said it, the PA system announces that your flight is delayed. Again.

Hobie laughs, “comedic timing. Just take my trouser, love.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, laughing with him a moment later once you've recovered. You decide to tease him. “I hope you don't mean the one you're wearing right now.”

Smirking, Hobie leans closer to you, whispering in your ear. “Even though we're at an airport, that won't count as bein’ in the mile high club, lovie.”

Maybe your flight getting canceled isn't so bad after all.

“Damn, I thought it would count!”

Hobie moves away, grinning from ear to ear. “Just take my bloody trousers. I don't want a repeat of that one winter we had back home.”

“That was one time, I learned my lesson. And fine, I'll wear your pants, I've worn worse.”

“Rude.” He says with a soft smile, “it's in my bag, the biggest zipper.”

You gesture towards the bags next to you, “You want me to rummage through your things?”

“Why not? You've already seen my knickers. And me in just my knickers.”

“That's not it, Hobie.” You say like you're winded after getting the image of him in that one pair of knickers in your mind. Thanks, Hobie.

“Too much crossin’ the boundaries then? Hand it to me.” He doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable, the same reason why you had to ask him if he's sure about you rummaging through his things. You don't want him to feel uncomfortable too.

“Kind of, I'll be wearing your pants anyway so we crossed that boundary a few minutes ago.”

“What is it then?” He knits his brows, concern etched on his expression.

“It's just that— it's your stuff, maybe there's something in there that you don't want me to see.”

“Love,” he says softly, “you've seen everythin' there is to see. Nothin' changed much, ‘m not carryin’ somethin' that will make me embarrassed.” When you still don't look too sure, he twists in his seat to loom over you, you get a full display of his chest as he pulls at his bag to put it over your lap. He smells just like how you remembered. For a second there your heart stopped at the sight of him above you. “Go rummage through my shit, yeah?”

You bite your lip with a shake of your head. “I will scream if I hear something vibrating.”

Hobie's booming laughter echoes throughout the airport, rising above the PA system.

Grinning, you open the bag, there's a few shirts on top that you recognize, and a couple of jeans. But when you see something red and blue with the familiar spider logo, you clamp the zipper shut.

“You brought your suit?” You look at him, bewildered.

“Why not? You never know when a mutant lizard would appear.” He takes a swig from his cooling tea, acting nonchalant but clearly amused by your reaction.

“What if security sees it?” You whisper.

He copies your tone. “They did.” Your eyes widen. “They thought it was a costume, love.” Winking, he smiles teasingly at you.

“That makes a lot of sense actually.”

—

You look at yourself in the murky airport bathroom mirror, hands tying the strings on Hobie's pants. Its red checkered pattern catches the eye, and its soft material reminds you of his pajamas. It might be his pajamas actually. You remember all the cold nights in the houseboat cuddled next to him, with the boat rocking softly as you whisper about your day in his ear. You wish you were there right now.

You push open the creaking door, and you see Hobie waiting for you, standing nonchalantly on a pillar with yours and his bag strewn near his feet. Once he hears the door, his head perks up, and a smile appears when he sees you in his clothes.

“Lookin' bloody fit, eh?”

“Stop, I'm already embarrassed enough. I feel like a kid in kindergarten who just had an accident.”

“Well, did you?”

You make a face at him. “No, the hell?”

Hobie shrugs, “I won't judge you if you did.”

You push him lightly, palm pressed on his chest, making him laugh. “Shut up.” Looking over the space you and Hobie were sitting at, you find that it's already occupied. “We lost our seats.”

Hobie follows your gaze. “That's alright, I heard a few blokes talkin' ‘bout rentin’ a car. We could try our luck there.”

“Impromptu road trip?”

“D’you want to stay ‘ere till tomorrow?”

“No,” you sigh, “let's go.”

Hobie takes each of your bags and his own while making sure he walks in the same pace as you so he doesn't go further away and lose you in the crowd. You don't argue about carrying your own bags since you know you'll lose and he'll charm you with that smile you love. It's better not to faint in the middle of a packed airport.

You're arm to arm with him, and your instincts tell you to hold on to his arm like you used to do. You wish you could still do it, just hold him lest he gets lost in the crowd or go further away from you. He doesn't, he won't, and you know that despite the two year gap of being away from him.

You have a lot of things to tell him, and he has a lot of thoughts about you. For now, he walks close to you, wishing, hoping that the divide between the two of you will crumble the moment you hold onto him like how he remembers.

A passenger bumps into you, and you collide on Hobie's side with a quiet yelp.

He reaches for you, thumb pressing on the small of your back in an attempt to keep your balance without dropping the bags. “You alright? What a wanker.”

You gaze at him through your lashes, eyes roaming around his concerned face. “I'm okay.” He looks marvelous basking under the light.

“You sure? You look a bit peckish, love.” He guides you towards the nearest food stall, all the while avoiding people from colliding into you.

You can't tell him that you're suddenly clammy because you're absolutely awestruck and still very much in love with him. So you lie. “I can't get anything past your senses, huh?”

He chuckles, trying to ignore your quickening heartbeat in his ears. “You want a sandwich?”

You give him a lopsided smile as he drops you off to the side of the sandwich stall. “Sure, Hobie.”

“What kind?” He leaves the bags near your feet, a smile never leaving his pierced lips. “The usual?”

“You still remember that?”

“I remembered your tea order, of course I remember your usual.” He casually says, hand hidden in his pockets, hoping that you can't sense his sudden bashfulness.

“It's not aunt Janet's chippy but it'll do.” You grin as the memory of you two having afternoon dates at your local chip shop passes by your mind.

“Don't tempt me, or I'll start swingin’ in this storm to get us some.”

“That's physically impossible, Hobie.” You unconsciously mirror his movements.

“Yeah, if you're not Spider-Man.” He shrugs with a smug look as he walks backwards to order your snack.

He'll be the death of me one day. You think as your eyes never leave his form.

—

You finish your sandwich right on time when Hobie comes back from the car rental counter. His annoyed expression tells you that it did not go well.

“What happened?” You swallow, throwing away the paper packaging at a trash can. Hobie leans on the glass wall right next to you, hands in his pockets. You narrow your eyes at his suspicions posture, “you're fucking with me aren't you? You have the keys in your pockets, right?” He tilts his head towards you with a tight-lipped smile. Your teasing grin falters. “Right?”

“Nah, not this time, love. Sorry.”

You sigh, wincing, hope snuffed out. “Really?” He nods, you really hoped that you would get to go on a road trip with him again. “Damn, I thought you were joking.”

“They're not lettin’ any cars out because of the ice. Slippery road and all that.” He huffs, and then flicks his eyes at you. “How was the sandwich?”

“Pretty okay,” you turn your head to him, body drifting closer. The window is cold under your head. “The bread should've been toasted better though.” Rummaging through your pockets, you find your wallet to pay him back. “How much do I owe you?”

“A hundred quid.” He chuckles at his own joke.

“Fuck off.” You scoff out with a giggle.

He finds your laughter contagious, grinning he shakes his head. “Nah, it wasn't much, keep it.”

“I gotta pay you back, Hobie.” You insist.

“You already did with the tea, love.”

You laugh some more. “That one was free!”

The PA system interrupts and calls on your flight again, and as you predicted, it's delayed. You barely notice the announcement with him looking at you softly.

“Everythin’ is free if you think ‘bout it.” He pokes your bicep playfully as you roll your eyes with a grin. “I think that was your flight, lovie.”

“Yeah, I expected it this time— wait, when's your flight? Did they announce it already?”

“It's cancelled,” he says casually. “Is it that bad though? I got to see you because of it.” His tone is tender, with a hint of apprehension under his voice.

“Too bad on the impromptu road trip though.” You scooch closer to him. In the busy airport where every person rushes in and out, you and Hobie are in your own world where it's just you and him. “I would've loved to stop by the chip shop with you.”

“We could still do that,” Hobie whispers, eyes downturned as he wraps his pinky around your own. He gives you space to move away or flinch, but you don't. Instead, in a twist of events, you pull him closer with just your pinky, toe to toe with him, holding him just like how he remembered. “I'll take that as a yes then?”

“Ask me,” your free hand rises to his chest, palm right on his heart, feeling how his heartbeat hastens. You lock eyes with him, smiling gently as you see his pupils dilate with just you in his vision. “Please ask me.”

“I saw you a few minutes before we met at the tea stand. And I followed you like a bloody creep thinkin’ that I was hallucinatin’ or some shit—” you stop his rambling with your hand cupping his cheek. He leans against your touch, eyes closing for a moment. Your heart leaped in your chest when he did. “Breakin’ up was a bad idea.” He says as he opens his eyes, hand holding the back of yours, feeling his calloused hand around your own. “Go to Janet's chippy with me, we'll get your usual. And I'll get mine and I'll give you the first bite like always.”

“Like our first real date.” You almost couldn't get the words out with the lump in your throat.

Hobie nods with a lopsided smile, eyes glimmering in the light. “Say yes, please.”

“Yes.” Your lips wobble. “And you're fucking right, breaking up was a very bad and stupid idea on our part.” A tear escapes that he promptly wipes away carefully.

Hobie exhales like it's the first time he lets go of a breath. His forehead meets yours, and you hold him, giggling, pecking the tip of his nose.

“I missed that.” He leans away, cradling your face in his hands. “Fuck, I missed you.”

“I missed you too, you have no idea.”

“I have a faint idea.”

You chortle, eyes tearing up again. “You wanna argue who missed who the most?”

“Anythin' to hear you talk, love.” As he tilts his head to kiss you, he inhales and brushes his lips on yours. He feels complete.

Before you could seal the deal, the PA system echoed again. This time though, they announce that your flight is canceled. You hear simultaneous groans across the airport, except from you and Hobie.

You laugh against his lips, making him chuckle. Leaving a chaste kiss before moving away, you silently promise to give him a proper one once you and Hobie are out of the rushing crowd.

Moving away, you kiss his knuckles as you take his bag away. He understands the memo, carrying your luggage as you continue to walk away.

“Where are you goin'? We can't rent a car to drive back home.” Hobie calls after you, matching your pace almost immediately.

“I booked a hotel just in case something like this happens.” You swear you heard his breath hitch in his throat.

“Just like this?” He points to himself with a knowing smile.

“You know what I mean, Hobie.” You say with a lilt in your tone. “Either you sleep in a cot and wake up with an aching back, or you sleep in the same room with me.” You flick your eyes at Hobie, who's absolutely dumbstruck, that's quickly replaced with a huge grin, his eyes crinkle at the corners as you nudge him playfully.

“I prefer sleepin’ in the same bed with you if you'd ask me to.” He switches your bag on his other hand, carrying it all in one hand effortlessly so he could reach for your hand.

“Well, this is me asking.” You squeeze his hand thrice, walking towards the airport's hotel with a skip in your step. You're glad that your flight was canceled.

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

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[echekate]

Carnival date with Hobie! Going on the arcades (that are definitely rigged) enjoying cotton candy together and the Ferraris wheel!

- 💗

Thank you for the lovely prompt, angel! 😘

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is mentioned taller though), cw food mentions, Fluff

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You take a giant bite of your cotton candy, the sugar bursts into your mouth like fireworks. The bright neon lights make your eyes shine, all the beeps and boops from arcade machines are reminiscent of the time when you were younger. It's cold out, an evening breeze passes by, fluttering your lashes in the wind. It's freezing but Hobie's arm around your shoulders warms you through your bones.

“Don't eat it all, give me some.” His breath fans your cheeks, it tickles you a bit. “Oi, stop gettin’ distracted. Ahhh” he opens his mouth for you, waiting for you to feed him like a baby chick.

“Get those pinchers out of my face.” You giggle, quickly feeding a dollop of the sweet treat before he chomps down on your fingers. You've learned your lesson.

“Thanks.” He says through a mouthful. You wipe the corner of his lips clean of candy. He sticks his tongue out to the side with the intention to lick your finger.

“Nope, too slow!” you quickly move your hand away to his dismay.

“I will bite your hand off, you'll see.” Hobie says with a smirk.

“Uh huh, sure. If you can catch me”

“You better start running then”

Before you could sprint through the crowd, Hobie's arms are already around your middle, lifting you a few inches off the ground effortlessly. You giggle, trying to not get a lot of attention from the public.

You blame the candy for making Hobie more hyper than he already is.

“Give me your fuckin' hand” he cranes his neck down to try and catch your it, you cross your arms on your chest, tucking your hands inside.

“Nu uh!” Hobie squeezes you, continuing to walk like he's not carrying you. “So you're just gonna manhandle me the entire night?”

“No, I'll throw you in one of those duck ponds.” He laughs loudly as you wiggle your elbow right on his abdomen. You didn't know he's ticklish there, you are definitely gonna use that information in the future.

Your eyes light up, looking at the gigantic patchwork teddy bear hanging on to one of the arcade booths. “Look at that one!”

“D’you want that? I'll get that for you, yeah?”

“No, it's fine, it's probably rigged anyway.”

He nuzzles your neck, “I'll bet you a kiss that I can win that ugly bear”

“Deal.” You kick your legs out to try to walk on your own but he doesn't let go so you let him carry you the entire way to the booth, laying your entire weight on him.

He stops in front of the milk bottle tossing booth, an old man with large glasses mans the it, he picks up fallen balls, placing them neatly inside a small bucket.

“How much, bossman?” Hobie asks, his arms still carrying you.

“Five pounds per bucket. Looks like you've won a much better prize though” he chuckles.

“Yeah, ‘m lookin' for a replacement though” he points at the bear with his chin. His comment doesn't fly over you though, you huff, kneading his stomach with your elbow. Hobie yelps, letting you go. “See that, bossman? Need that bear more than ever.”

You make a mocking face, Hobie suddenly has an intense urge to pinch your nose. But he doesn't, maybe he'll do it once you two get home.

He hands the old man the bills in exchange for the bucket.

“You've got four tries to bring the three pyramids down. You do that and you get the bear.” The old man explains.

“That easy?” Hobie says smugly.

The man chuckles, the same smug smile on his lips. “That easy. Good luck.”

Hobie turns to you as he's weighing the baseball in his hand. “Kiss for good luck?”

“I thought that was for after winning my prize?” despite you declining, you lean to press a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good luck and don't overdo it or you might give the man a heart attack.” You whisper close to his ear.

“And here I was preparing my arm to rocket this ball out of here” he chases your face, capturing your forehead in a quick but tender kiss.

You poke his side, smiling as he takes aim. His arm extended like he's a professional, his muscles tensing through his shirt. You'd be lying if you said you weren't ogling him. Before Hobie throws the ball, he winks at you all suave, waking the butterflies in your stomach.

Clang!

The first pyramid bottle falls loudly. Hobie looks at you with a mischievous smirk, wordlessly saying. ‘I've got this’

He takes another ball, preparing to launch it. As you predicted, he turns his head towards you again but you're prepared this time, winking at him sweetly before he could do it.

He almost misses the bottles.

You tamp down your laugh when he looks back at you with a ‘how dare you’ face. You look at him innocently, fluttering your lashes.

After all that though, one after the other the bottles fall easily, the old man shifts uncomfortably, scratching his head. He surrenders, handing Hobie the bear.

“Told you I'll win it for you” the bear gets squished in the middle as Hobie tries his best to embrace you with the fluffy wall in between.

“I knew you had it,” you lean up so he could claim his prize. “You have super strength, cheater.” you say against his lips, he could only get a fraction of a second of your lips before you pulled away. He blinks, shaking his head.

“Thought we had a deal?”

“Claim it in the ferris wheel?”

“You cheeky fucker”

—

After lining up for the ride and numerous bites of a shared funnel cake, you and Hobie hop on to the pod, the capsule shakes as he pushes in the bear to fit inside. The worker manning the ride sighs exasperatedly.

Hobie sits it across from you, scooching to make way for him, he sighs, all tired out from the labour.

The worker closes the door, the ferris wheel starts up, slowly moving your pod up.

“Your bear is on thin ice” He glares at the toy, the fluffy head tilting comedically. You laugh while Hobie casually snakes his arm around your shoulders, bringing you Impossibly closer to the already small space.

You don't mind it though, laying your head on his shoulder, reaching blindly for his hand, he half hugs you, bringing your knuckles to his lips.

“You good?” his voice muffled by your skin.

“Better than good. Happy” you inhale his cologne, relaxing your muscles. You swear you're melting on the spot. “You?”

“You already know the answer, lovie” he cranes his neck closer to you, ignoring the ache in his nape. Hobie then presses a handful of kisses on your temple, each one sweeter than the last. He holds off with his joke about pushing the bear off the ride.

The ferris wheel halts to a stop when your pod reaches the top, you cling tighter to Hobie. The view takes your breath away, the shining lights below look like stars, the skyline looms on your right, just seeing it makes you crave web swinging with Hobie. Maybe you'll ask him about it later.

The ride starts back up again with a sudden lunge, a mechanical whirring in the background. You yelp, Hobie grips your shoulder, circling his thumb over your skin comfortably.

“I've got you.” He reassures.

“I know you do” You squeeze him, moving his face downward by his chin, guiding him closer to your lips.

[echekate]

the zombie apocalypse hobie au is so good bro i just reread it and i LOOOVE the way u wrote it and created the story id do anything for more

Aw tyyy 😖 I'm so glad u like it. I've got no more ideas for now but I'll write something if i come up with more!!!

[echekate]

Zombie apocalypse AU pt. 2

some more hc's just because I can't get my mind off it

or is it more of a drabble?..

gn!reader x Hobie Brown

tw: amputation of a limb, a mention of suic!de at the end, suggestive stuff, but mostly fluff (don't ask me, that's how zombie apocalypses work)

As the winter passes Hobie finds himself feeling quite comfortable in his new place. Wether it's the Town that has more decent ways of existance than the one he previously lived in or certain someone who keeps his want to fuck off at bay, he starts thinking less about leaving and more about pros and cons of staying, and... Well, you.

The commune that everyone basically calls the Town is quite different from the one he used to be in before the big shit TM happened. The biggest difference is probably the place having not one allmighty leader but many of them, a dozen or so people trying to keep the place, this isle of civilization, from falling apart. The second difference - no big rules. The only ones are make yourself useful and don't stir up trouble. Considering that the place doesn't have too many people, those are enough to keep the place organised and safe. Any problems that come up always get solved by "the big bosses" who look after the Town.

And the more Hobie thinks of it, lives in it, the more content he gets with how things work. After all, he's got no problem with occupying himself or being useful. And he's not the one to start trouble if he's fine with how things are going.

And then there's you.

You who was helping him during his recovery. You who welcomed him so warmly at your place, and introduced to your parents if you still got them. You who let him use your bed until his leg was fine and he could move to the couch. You who told the big bosses you'll take care of him and he won't be any trouble and a waste of resources. You who helped him when he needed to get out and shared your warmth with him during those cold nights of hunting outside

Shit, since when did he start thinking so much about your warmth?

One thing after another, everything leads to Hobie starting to hesitate. And then one thing happens that pretty much seals his fate.

Could there be a more perfect moment? You and him are at the infirmary after coming back from another sortie. His cheek rests calmly in your palm as your other hand moves over his face, cleaning small bruises left after your little adventure. Bleak sunshine of the spring sun filters through the blinds on the windows, gently touching your skin. It's quiet, peaceful, you've gotten used to sharing both talks and comfortable silence with him.

Your head's been full of thoughts of Hobie's inevitable departure ever since the winter days had ended. You feel like any time now he can just seep through your fingers and disappear. And what's so bad about it, right? He's just a boy who was there to reach a helping hand when you were in need of one. But here's the thing: you and Hobie just... Click.

There's not too many people of your age among survivors to be picky about your friends. But ever since you've met Hobie you had this feeling that if you met him before the apocalypse, you'd be best friends for sure. He makes you feel less lonely, more cheerful, more seen. You can discuss anything without judging each other. And now you have to wrap your head around the fact that he'll leave soon? You want to respect his freedom, you really do, but... Yeah, no fucking way you can just let him go.

You barely notice the way your hands slowly come to a stop as the thoughts fill your head. And just when Hobie raises his eyes at you to ask why the hell did you stop caressing his face with your lovely hands your work, you find enough courage to meet his gaze and whisper a soft "Hobie, you should stay."

Your lips are so close and wouldn't it be just a perfect moment to kiss them? Because - hell, he wants that. But despite you being just a few inches away looking at him with such tenderness, you seem like you're not going to move any closer. So the best thing that comes to Hobie's mind is to smirk and say, "Sure thing, dove. Anythin' if I get a kiss fo' tha'."

And just like that it suddenly gets to you that all those nights cuddling in the woods you probably weren't the only one to get a little too comfortable. Because now behind that cocky expression on Hobie's face you see that he means it - you give him one kiss and he'll follow you to the Hell itself. But you turn into such a mess of joy and embarrasment that you're sure you'll fuck it up. So you ask him to wait till evening. To join him on his night watch. "Promise you won't leave 'till you get it." And he gives you a promise.

And when you join him on the town's wall at night, take his hand to let him know you're here, that's when you finally give it to him. Yes, you give it, because he lets you be the one to decide if you truly want it this time and doesn't try to take it himself. After all, it's in your best interest to convince him to stay, and a kiss is the price you must pay. But as soon as you do, your deal is sealed, and that's when Hobie shows you just how much he has to give back. He spins you two around to press your back into the wall and kisses you again and again till the pile of melting snow falls from a canopy above your heads making some noise and startling you.

You stay for a few more minutes to laugh and talk quietly and soon leave to get some rest. But you go home filled with joy because you know you both felt it that moment - none of you can leave the other now without leaving your heart with them.

At some point Hobie realises he has used your hospitality for long enough and after exploring less inhabitated parts of the Town for some time he finds himself a perfect spot. The house clearly has been rummaged through and looted more than once, but it isn't the thing that takes his attention. An impressively built tree house in the backyard though... Now that's more like it. Oh and a garage attached to the house? Maybe he can even go back to crafting stuff like he used to do before the world collapsed.

Hobie doesn't wait long before moving there and finally leaving your place. And though you miss him living close to you, now Hobie has a place of his own that suits him best. A place he can and will decorate to his liking. And a place where you finally can be truly alone with him. Perfect for nice and long makeout sessions with some music playing from your old headphones you share that certainly will turn into something more with time, like pawing at the skin under each other's clothes as you grind against each other and pant into other's mouth. Yes, a perfect spot that he doesn't mind sharing with you.

And hey, he still visits you, too.

What you've got between you two you're not in a rush to name. It's just kinda there, it has been since the moment you've brought Hobie to the Town. Though if before that kiss you could pass as a couple of really good friends that just seem to get along very well, after it happens your connection becomes painfully obvious to anyone in the Town. I mean, it's hard to misunderstand. You've been close before, but now you become nearly inseparable. Some people even start wondering if it's even possible to meet Hobie without you being nearby and the other way around. You sit there with him when he tries to build stuff in his garage. He helps you with whatever you do.

It is love, that much you know for sure, but whenever you try to explain it, you fail. Because labels and names don't really matter when the world slowly falls apart, and you feel too much anyway to try to define it with few words. Hobie, i believe, barely even tries. He just feels and enjoys it.

As for 'keeping himself useful'... Let's be honest, no one has ever expected Hobie to just settle and become a proper townie. And remember? He goes wherever you go, and you go scout sometimes, so of course he keeps you company. And it's hard to express just how much easier it becomes with him around. It's a former loner we're talking about here, he knows the best spots to hide, the best ways to avoid hungry undeads. Despite the outside still being dangerous and horrifying, with Hobie by your side your chances of survival really skyrocket.

And I imagine that you meet the rest of the spidergang that way. They're lost and scared and gods know how they've managed to survive this long, but one way or another you find them during your expeditions and bring them back with you. Just for them to see just how cool you and Hobie are and want to become a part of your scouting team, too. And hell does it feel like getting children with him...

And to the darker part that i've mentioned in the end of the pt 1

Of course with a job as dangerous as yours it's only a matter of time when some really bad stuff happens. Bad as in your hand getting bitten when you already think you've managed to escape that groaning mob of shamblers. As in Hobie immediately grabbing you and putting a tourniquet on your arm to stop this shit from spreading any further, quiet despair in his eyes because he knows exactly what must be done. Bad as in him taking a deep breath and sinking a big blade of his hunting knife into your flesh, aiming to separate the joint while other arachnokids try their best to keep you in place while he cuts off your forearm, only leaving behind a piece of skin to put it over the wound and sewing it up with a few sloppy stitches. It's imperfect, but hey, he did his best, and at least now he can bring the rest of you back to the Town, alive.

Hobie's fine if you're mad at him, he takes it like a champ, all of your "I'd rather if you just shot me" and "Great, you've made me fucking useless and made me live with it" things. He knows you'll thank him later, when it gets to you he has saved your life once again. He doesn't try to change your mind or make you less angry, he just waits and nods and helps you without a word whenever you encounter a task that used to be so easy when you had both your arms but that can be so troubling now. And he's really delicate about it, only helping when you almost get too upset you can't do it on your own. He lets you let your steam off on him, but he'll immediately offer you his vocal support and anything you need as soon as you let him know you need it or need him.

And yes, as soon as you get back he starts working on making you a new forearm. First it's just some quick and simple stuff, but hey, the boy's a genius, he'll manage to make you something really good. He'll be looking for better and better materials on your expeditions and experiment with them and i'm pretty sure he can come up with some really cool robotic stuff in the end.

And when your pain and shock and anger wears off and you realise just how much strength it took him to do the thing he did and then endure your behaviour, you apologise immediately. And just as quickly he forgives you. Because hey, when the world is at the brink of death, you can't let things like that just ruin a connection like the one you two have.

You just have to understand that if one day you turn and Hobie has to shoot you, the next thing he's shooting is probably himself.

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(english is not my first language i'm struggling lmao so sorry if there's mistakes)

pt. 1 | pt. 2

[echekate]

Zombie apocalypse AU HCs

gn!reader x Hobie Brown

tw: violence, wounds, blood, mentions of amputation

So AU where you live in a zombie apocalypse, like a year after the catastrophy. You belong to a town of survivors and Hobie is a loner who prefers to survive on his own tho he doesn't mind other ppl if they don't threaten him.

You're one of scouts of your town who go outside and search for all sorts of supplies and maybe even other survivors who might need help and want to join your commune.

You just do your usual thing, rummaging through an old abandoned building when suddenly you drop something or make any other kind of loud noise and it appears that this building is not so abandoned after all - there's quite a company of groaning monsters who now really want to take a bite from you.

So of course you run for your life but the only way is up the stairs and the small mob almost corners you in one of the corridors when suddenly a door opens and you get dragged inside by a strong hand. The door immediately closes behind you, and now it's just the two of you in a small room that seems to be safe enough.

You try to aim your gun at the stranger, but your hands shake violently and there's not much you can do, so the guy smirks at your attempts but still raises his hands to show you he's harmless.

That's how you and Hobie meet each other.

It only takes you so much time to calm down and realise he's no threat. You share your food with him to thank him and talk quietly, patiently waiting for the groaning horde to go away.

It's funny to see a guy so dedicated to certain aesthetics in the middle of the apocalypse. Wearing jeans and leather, having a bat with nails and his guitar on him, combined with an immense amount of piercings he has, he looks so unmistakably punk. Yeah, he looks like a cool guy. Acts like one, too, offering you a grin, his name, a handshake to go with it and a small talk.

"A townie, huh?" Hobie chuckles with a touch of disdain when you tell him you're not a loner, that you're from a town. Something in his voice makes you wonder if there's more to it than a simple 'i'm cooler bc i don't need anyone to survive'.

And only much, much later you'll find out that he used to live in a town, too, but the leader (might be Osborn haha) went nuts, turned into a dictator, pressured people he was supposed to protect, and Hobie organised a riot and ended up killing him. He left after that and now he doesn't trust communes and their self-proclaimed leaders.

He helps you to get out of the building when it's safe and you almost leave to be on your way when it hits you it might be useful to pair up with an experienced survivor like him. And he hasn't had company for a while now, so he just shrugs and agrees.

It's easier to travel together. You navigate zombie-crouded places with ease, watching each other's back, you talk when it's safe (and hell does Hobie like himself a good talk after only being able to talk to himself for a while). You quickly find out that teasing each other is hella fun and it takes him only about two days to come up with a nickname for you - maybe something made from your name or maybe something stupid from all those jokes you share.

Once you reach another town and settle in a house that has decent fence, Hobie starts a fire and soon you hear him strumming something on his guitar. He's glad if you decide to sing along. And if you play guitar, too, he'd hand it to you, but just before you grab it he'd pull it away for a moment and squint his eyes at you. "Jus' don't break it, luv", he smirks before finally handing it to you. And if you sing - damn, he'd definitely start missing his being in a band days and promise you to write a duet for you two.

Sometimes you try to convince him to come with you to your town but he just shrugs and laughs it off. He doesn't yet tell why he's so stubborn about it, and you know better than to pry.

Your expedition goes calmly until the last village on your way where you encounter raiders. They shoot first and you don't really have a choise but put down two of them. You find a hiding spot before any of you gets shot, but the next day when you plan to leave and head back to your town they notice you. And, well, of course they want revenge.

You flee both from raiders and zombies attracted by the gunfire, navigating the narrow alley filled with junk, and where you slip with ease, Hobie suddenly falls trying to jump off something and gets an iron rod right through his thigh.

Putting all the trouble with removing it aside, that's how you and Hobie both end up back in your town. You were supposed to part ways, but it's not like you could just leave him after everything you've been through together. His wound is festering by the time you reach safety, you tried to give him meds, but it only did so much in holding the infection back. Thankfully now the doctors can look after him.

He gets better gradually and soon enough you let him move into your place. After all, you were the one to bring him to the town, so now you're kind of responsible. He's not particularly happy to be there, but trust me, he'd choose his words of distaste less carefully if it was anyone but you with him.

He needs time to recover in safety, but the town is suffocating, so you find a harmless enough decision and start inviting him outside to hunt. Nothing but short sorties not too far from the town walls, but he feels better. And honestly? It's a good time to bond. Winter comes and you spend your nights outside in abandoned hunting lodges, resting close to each other to preserve the heat.

It's back to back first, then you share blankets, and soon enough it turns into cuddling - either it's spooning or Hobie just pulls your head into his chest and wraps his long arms aroung you. You're supposed to take care of him and help him recover, but in those moments you feel taken care of. Small. Maybe even loved. Not something you feel often in this dying shit of a world.

And when the winter passes, Hobie suddenly realises that he doesn't really want to leave. I wonder why,,,,,,

A little extra: I feel like if you ever get bitten or scratched, Hobie would NOT hesitate to take your wounded limb away. He's not the type to wait till it turns into 'either i kill them or they turn into a monster' drama, he just wants to save as much of you as he can. And knowing how good he is with crafting things, he'd probably be the one to make you a prosthesis to replace it, too.

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pt. 1 | pt.2