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Maddie wants to keep her pregnancy a secret until the right time, but things don't go as planned
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(15 fps voice) i’m going to line-boil every frame
rahhhhhhghhg i would like to finish it but i must go to work now
they are like silly cats to me
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HER

(Ekko x reader)
❥ cast : ! Ekko, Jinx, reader ¡
Ekko slammed the door behind him so hard it rattled the frame, his breathing ragged.
"What the hell were you thinking Y/N?" he growled, his voice sharp enough to cut. He didn't even look at her at first, pacing back and forth, his fists clenching at his sides. "Do you have a death wish, or are you just stupid?"
Y/N flinched at his tone, but her own anger was already steaming beneath the surface. "Don't talk to me like that..." she snapped, straightening up.
"I just saved your life."
"Saved my life?" Ekko whirled on her. His dark brown skin glistened with sweat, the usual vibrance in his eyes replaced with irritation. "Do you even realize what you just did? You don't "save" someone by throwing yourself into a fight you don't even understand?! You could've gotten yourself killed!"
"I wasn't going to stand there and watch her kill you Ekko!" Y/N fired back, stepping toward him, her voice trembling now.
"What was I supposed to do? Let her put a bullet in your cranium?"
"I had it handled!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the small space.
"You stepping in didn't help—it made everything worse! You always think you're helping...but you're not! You're just another person I have to worry about, another liability!"
Y/N recoiled as if he'd slapped her, tears now already pooling in her eyes. "Liability?" she repeated, her voice low. "That's what I am to you hm? A liability?"
"Yeah..." he snapped, frustration thick in his tone. "You're reckless, you don't listen, and you have no idea what you're even doing. You think you can just walk into my life, into my fights, and just fix things?"
"Don't you dare talk to me like I don't understand! I've been by your side through everything! I've fought for you, bled for you, and this is what I get? You calling me a liability because I tried to save your ungrateful ass?"
Ekko froze for a moment, his shoulders stiffening. "You don't get it, okay?" he said, his voice quieter but no less sharp. "This isn't just some fight. It's—it's her."
The words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to explode. Y/N froze, her heart sinking. "Her?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Ekko turned away, his broad shoulders slumping as he ran a hand down his face. "Jinx..." he said, the name slipping out like a curse and a prayer all at the same time. "She's not just some random enemy Y/N. She's..." He stuttered.
"She's not who she used to be. And seeing her like that—it messes me up.."
Y/N stepped closer, her tone sharp with pain.
"What does that even mean Ekko? That you still care about her? That you still love her?"
Ekko's eyes widened, his breath hitching. He opened his mouth to respond, but the silence stretched painfully between them.
"That's it, isn't it?" Y/N said, her voice cracking as tears spilled down her cheeks. "You're still in love with her. That's why you don't want me stepping in. You're not afraid for me...no—you're afraid for her."
"Shut up..." Ekko said, his voice low and strained, his expression crumpling for just a second.
"No.." Y/N snapped, her anger laced with heartbreak. "I'm not going to shut up. You're still in love with her Ekko. Even after everything she's done, after what she did to the firelights?!"
"It's not that simple." his voice broke slightly. "You don't know what it's like Y/N." His voice dropped, trembling now. " I still want to save her."
Y/N let out a bitter laugh, her tears coming harder now, her vision blurring. "And what about me huh?" she asked, her voice quieter.
"What am I to you Ekko? Just someone to fill the void until she decides to randomly come back?"
He flinched at her words, guilt flashing across his face. "What—That's not what this is.." he said, his voice soft and desperate. "I didn't mean—"
"Didn't mean what?" she interrupted, her voice cracking. "Didn't mean it like that? Because you did, Ekko....You know you did."
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut.
It was true.
He stepped closer, his hand reaching out, but she backed away, shaking her head.
"I've given you everything." she whispered, her voice trembling. "And it's still not enough...It's never going to be enough, is it?"
Ekko's his voice softened. "Please, don't say that."
Y/N wiped at her eyes, her chest tight with the weight of his words. "I'm sorry Ekko. I tried. I really did try... but I just can't do this anymore."
She turned away, her body trembling as she made her way to the door.
Ekko's voice stopped her before she could leave.
"Y/N please!" he said softly. "I...I'm so sorry."
Y/N didn't look back. Her hand reached for the door handle, and stepping outside.
The door clicked shut, and Ekko was left standing there, staring at the place where she had stood just seconds ago. The weight of her absence settled heavily in the room. His fists clenched at his sides, his body still trembling as the reality of their argument hit him.
He let out a shaky breath, his tears threatening to fall once again. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. But no matter how much he wanted to fix things, he just couldn't do it, not for jinx, not for Y/N.
She was gone now, they both were.
And he couldn't do anything about it.
More stories will be added on Wattpad soon!!
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May I request something for fluff Friday?
Because it’s December! And it’s cold I was thinking maybe the reader teaching Hobie how to crochet? because I crochet and I think it would be cute if reader and Hobie made scarfs, gloves and beanies for the winter!

AHHHHHHH S'CUTE!! Thank you both for requesting. I hope you two don't mind me combining them since they're both similar. Have a happy holiday, lovelies!
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, they have an army of cats and a symbiote cat. Symbiote cat au, Lovestruck! Hobie, FLUFF
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“And then you loop it around, and tada! You've made yourself a tiny scarf!” You let Hobie's hands go from when you were guiding his long fingers to finish his bright red and black scarf. He already laments the absence of your touch. “One down twenty more to go.”
Hobie turns to his side to face you fully, your smile blinds him for a second, he doesn't blame himself for what he does next.
“Thank you, lovie” he cups your face with urgency before the army of cats, especially the little devil spawn, gets wind of your little alone time in your shared bedroom. Peppering your face with hundreds of kisses, he makes sure no space of your skin is left unkissed.
Your giggles must've awoken the beasts because you hear soft mewls behind the door. The meowing turns into screaming then into panicked scratching.
“I think they've figured us out” you say in between laughs, good thing you're holding his shoulders or else you would've fallen off the bed from his barrage of wet kisses.
“They can't keep us apart!” Hobie's kisses hasten as you hear something slither under the door.
A black blob appears like a puddle, that puddle slowly solidifies into the most horrific thing ever: a cat. An alien cat that is unfathomably jealous of Hobie right now.
Symbiote cat or you so lovingly named, Blob, short for Blobius Cornelius Blobirington, who is currently hissing his way towards your intertwined forms. The village of cats outside continue to try and screech their way inside the bedroom.
“Bloby, no!” You yell frantically as the alien cat unhinges his jaw to open his maw, white pointy pearly whites greet Hobie as you try to stop Blob from eating your boyfriend.
Hobie puts himself in between you and the symbiote, “Try it! Let's see if you can even digest me”
“Hobie, don't rile him up! Here, baby!” You toss a ball of yarn as a last resort, which thankfully catches the alien’s attention.
Blobius Cornelius Blobirington follows the ball of yarn, the black spikes on his back smoothes out as he plays with the yarn.
“He started it.” Hobie narrows his eyes at the creature. Blob hisses back a response, baring all his teeth.
“Let's all calm down, please?” With your sweet words, both parties visibly calm down. Hobie relaxes his shoulders, while Blob returns to his ball of yarn. “We're all good?” You pause, eyes flitting from Hobie to the little symbiote who keeps an eye open for any more face attacking from Hobie. “Good, cat's out of the bag, I'm gonna open the door and show them their gift”
“We’re not done yet with the scarves though?”
“Oh, we'll continue that, maybe tonight?” You lower your voice, “okay?” Quickly smooching Hobie’s lips, he agrees with a knowing nod.
“Alright, but I'm putting down a door sealing strip so he doesn't interrupt”
You laugh, giving him one last kiss on his forehead as you stand up to collect the cats’ humongous gift. Hobie tries to grab your hand but Blob sees through his plans, he abandons the toy to stretch himself towards the bed, taking your spot with a large Cheshire grin.
“You little shit”
“I've got it!” their staring contest gets interrupted by your excited voice. “Can you open the door for me please?” Your sentence is muffled by the large knitted fabric in your hands.
Hobie opens the door with his web shooters and out goes a tsunami of cats, a blur of orange, black, brown and white furs stumble through the open door. Hobie jumps up from the bed, scooping an armful of cats in his arms. Meows of varying degrees of tone echoes out in the room while Blob sits comfortably and unbothered on your bed.
“Hello, yes, I know, sorry!” you weave through the crowd gathering at your feet. “Are you all ready for your present?”
Unfurling the fabric, you drape it on the floor while cats gather around it to either catch it mid air or to lay on the floor to let it flop on top of them. The cats play on the blanket, some avoid it, still apprehensive.
The colourful flower pattern catches Hobie's eye, he whistles out. “Bloody ‘ell, love. Did you make this on your own?”
“Yep! Took me half a year to finish. Do you like it?”
“It's fuckin' gorgeous! C’mere” Hobie raises his arms and out pours the cats who quickly land on their feet.
You carefully make your way towards him. You embrace him, his arms enveloping you in a tight hug. It's all part of your plan though, with one quick movement, you put the beanie on top of his head, he makes a sound from the back of his throat in surprise. With how speedy you put it on him, the beanie covered his eyes too.
“Whoops!” You laugh, carefully unfolding the hat to uncover his eyes. “There you are” beaming at him, you cup his jaw to lovingly rub at his growing stubble. “Now your head won't get cold on patrols. Does it fit okay?”
“Like a glove” he's all heart eyes, his hands staying on your waist. “Thank you”
“You're welcome,” you place a quick affectionate kiss on the corner of his lips “There's more by the way”
“Snogging or presents? ‘m good with either”
“Both” you say against his lips, before you meet though, you hear Blob hissing while climbing up Hobie's leg.
“Fuck! How?!” He yelps, thinking his spider senses have gone haywire under all the sickenly sweet fog of your kiss.
“Perfect, I've got something for you too!” taking the tiny beanie from your pajama pocket, you place it on the symbiote’s head, avoiding his sharp teeth. “Cute! Now you're matching!”
You take a step back to admire them both in their matching beanies. Grinning happily at your handiwork. Hobie glares at Blob who's still climbing up his leg with a sneer.
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My little Spider 🕷
Decided to redesign the pony art I made of them and design their cutie marks
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Okay, but like, what about Hobie x a reader who's like, super resilient? As in resistant to physical dmg. Like idk how to word it, but someone who like, accidentally chops of half her finger then is like, "Oh no, I'm fine :)" then puts rubbing alcohol on it. And he's just like freaking out like there's so much blood on the counter?? Idk, I just thought it'd be funny because I'm kinda like that irl ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Thank you so much for requesting!! I loved writing it ❤️
Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader
Word count: 1.2k
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw blood, cw injury, cw food mentions, established relationship, FLUFF.
A/N: a bit late for another Halloween fic lol it's still Halloween somewhere right? (Wrong)
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The cinnamon smelling cookies in the oven makes your stomach grumble. With your hands occupied with the pumpkin carving knives, you pout at the rumbling feeling. You and Hobie are speedily carving out pumpkins together during Halloween night. You would've done it earlier on your own but you wanted to carve them together with Hobie. Unfortunately, Goblin doesn't care about the holiday despite his pumpkin shaped bombs.
So you're carving away, chipping at the face you've doodled that Hobie lovingly told you that it looks eerily like you. Which earned him a face full of pumpkin guts thrown at him.
Hobie senses your hunger, and how you're carving away without care. “Love, it's not a competition.”
“I know, but the trick or treaters will be here any minute!” You huff, poking out a finished ‘eye’ in your pumpkin. One down, a few more shapes to go. “Besides, that movie we watched the other day fucked me up, I don't want to be murdered by a pumpkin demon for not having a jack o’ lantern on our doorstep.”
He chuckles, going around the counter and abandoning his own half finished pumpkin. “The little demon won't come ‘ere knowin’ that ‘m over ‘ere, lovie.” You give him a look as he slides his arms around your middle, chin perched on your shoulder as he rubs his chin on you lovingly. “‘sides, this was supposed to be fun, remember?” Pecking your cheek, you lean closer as he smothers your jaw in warm kisses. Who needs a chimney when you've got your walking furnace right beside you? “Slow down for me, yeah?” Whispering lowly in your ear that sends goosebumps on your arms, he rubs them away with an even warmer hand before he reluctantly moves away to check on the cookies.
“Yeah,” you say with a lovestruck smile, turning around to see Hobie bending down while cracking open the hot oven and shutting it off. “You're right, this is fun, Hobie.” You take the opportunity to ogle him with a tilt of your head. He senses your eyes on his behind of course, prompting him to quickly look over his shoulder, catching you mid turn as you pretend you weren't eyeing him down.
Hobie slides himself next to you on the counter, elbow placed on the cold tiles, chin resting on his palm with a smirk on his pretty lips. “Saw somethin' you like?”
You glance at him, trying to tamp down your laughter. “Well, your jack o' lantern isn't done yet, I don't like that.”
Hobie was about to steal a kiss right on your smug lips but the doorbell ringing and the unmistakable chime of children outside interrupts him. “Tight arse.” He says against your pursed lips before walking away to grab the bowl of candy on the table.
“Flat ass.” You call after him as he makes his way to the front door. He chuckles as he opens it, and the trick or treaters’ voices echoes inside.
Shaking your head with a grin, you continue to chip away at the pumpkin, following the zig zagged line of its serrated smile. As you chop and cut, you hear Hobie giving out candies.
“Nice costume, little man.” He says, and you're sure he's giving the kid a full sized chocolate bar based on the lilt of his tone. “Spider-Man himself would be jealous, eh?”
You wanted to see what the said costume looks like, so with a quick peek while you're cutting out the last bits of pumpkin, you smile at the kid's homemade costume. It's even complete with Hobie's signature spikes and leather vest. Your smile falters as you feel something warm trickle from the pads of your thumb, looking down, you see crimson ebb from your fingertip down into the jack o’ lantern’s grin.
“Oh.”
Hobie's senses tingle as he shuts the door with a quick farewell to the kid. Goosebumps rise on his nape, head blaring alarms in his ears. Turning around to see what his senses are pointing at, he almost drops the bowl of candy when he sees your blood flowing from your hand, pooling down on the white countertops.
“Shit, love.” He speed walks towards you, hands outstretched to cradle your bleeding finger. “What happened?”
“I nicked myself, I'm fine.” The amount of red flowing out from the cut says otherwise. “I just need to wash it.”
“Fuck, you're bleedin’ a lot.” He curses under his breath as he helps you towards the kitchen sink, opening the faucet to let the warm water wash the crimson away. “You alright? How do you feel?” The sink water quickly blends in with your blood as it goes down the drain.
“I'm fine—” Hobie's already grabbing a clean towel from the rack, “Hobie—” he's wrapping it around your finger, watching the blood stain the white cloth. “Don't worry, I'm really fine.”
“It won't stop.” His eyes widen at how fast the red overtakes the pristine cloth. “Shit,” he wraps it tighter, and you don't even hiss or groan. Flicking his worried eyes at you, he sees you shrug at him. “You don't feel that?”
“I told you, I'm fine.”
“Bein' fine and not feelin’ any pain ain't the same. What if you nicked a nerve or some shit?”
“I don't think so,” you take a peek at the now drenched cloth. “Can you grab me the alcohol, please?” You say, awfully calm about the blood you're quickly losing.
“Alcohol?!” He scoffs out, guiding you down on the dining chair, just in case you faint. “Love, that won't help the bleedin’, It'll hurt you more.”
You bat your lashes at him, smiling as if you're not bleeding profusely. “Please?”
He sighs, remembering the med kit you have in your cabinet for him whenever he comes home with various wounds after a harsh patrol. “No, I'll get a proper disinfectant.”
“But, alcohol works best on me—”
“No,” he chuckles nervously, feeling your warm crimson on his palms. “If this doesn't stop in a minute, ‘m bringin’ you to hospital.”
“It's just a cut, I need alcohol, that's all.”
Hobie stands up, hands on his hips. It's his turn to take care of you, no matter how stubborn you are. “Stay ‘ere, if you feel faint yell for me, yeah?”
You huff in your seat, surrendering to his coddling. “Okay,” he enters your bathroom, knowing what he's already rifling through. “I don't need stitches, Hobie!”
“If you keep bein' like this, I'll stitch you up.”
“Okay, doctor Frankenstein!” You blink away the sudden dizziness and black dots dancing in your vision. “Hey, Hobie.”
“Yeah?” He makes his way back to you with the med kit, senses blaring at him.
“I feel a bit light headed actually—” You fall forward, eyes rolling on the back of your head.
“Love—!” He catches you in time. Putting his arms around you to carry you in a bridal hold. Even with his thudding heart and heavy worry, he calmly brings you towards the front door. As he opens it, he's greeted by a group of costumed children, their screams of terror at your bloodied hand almost freezes him in place. “Shit, it's not—!” They run away from the house, still screaming in horror. “Damn it.”
As he carries you towards the car, he'll make sure you'll never hear the end of his teasing after you've come too and hopefully better after some treatment.
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Guess who made a step back to his handsome fella
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it you're still taking requests, can i have a hobie with a spider!r who is almost comically serious all the time? i'm talking like r never speaks to anyone, never smiles, only gets the job done as soon as possible; but when they're alone r is the most sweetest, gentlest touch starved person in the whole universe and refuses to let go of hobie
i've been thinking about it for weeks and i can't stop thinking!! thank you in advance and have a great day!! 🪻
Thank you for requesting! I hope you like it ❤️
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, cw brief injury mention, spider! R, established relationship, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff.
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Lizard or better known as doctor Connors, lays on the concrete with his scales slowly fading away as green smoke envelopes his shrinking form. He hisses quietly, a deep rumble that is akin to relief; as if he had a deep splinter in his finger that has finally been extracted after weeks of torment.
Hobie sighs, hands gripping the neck of his guitar, knuckles shaking as he makes his way towards the green fog. He waves the smoke away with one hand, coughing as the smell of burning plastic itches his nose through his mask.
“Love?” He knows you're amidst the fog, hearing your steady breaths above the hissing and groaning from the former lizard.
It takes you a few seconds to collect yourself, hand stinging from how tight you grip the serum you've just injected into Connors scaly neck.
“Here.” Your tone is smooth and stable, as if you weren't just tossed aside by a large tail.
Hobie follows your voice, the green smoke finally revealing you standing over the now healed scientist. He approaches you slowly, and you immediately look over your shoulder to meet with the eyes of his mask.
“I'm okay.” You don't wait for him to ask, already knowing what's going through his adrenaline filled mind. “Are you hurt?” Your cool and unbothered lilt wavers for a moment, replaced with worry for the man before you.
He reaches for your shoulder, gloved hand sliding in between your shoulder blades, letting his warmth soothe you through your suit. Without another word, you lean against him, head tilting to the side so he could cup your cheek better.
“‘m fine, jus’ a few scratches—” The hoots and hollers of his fellow spider people interrupt you both. The puffs of smoke has completely cleared, and as he looks over to the source of the exhilarated yells, he glances back at you to find that you're already a few steps away from him.
You're punching in the codes on your bracelet to transport the now human doctor Connors trapped in the orange glow of the capture machine. Gwen and Pavitr run towards the two of you, suits tattered but with only a few gashes on them. Gwen clasps Hobie's shoulder, laughing and jostling him in place.
“You came in clutch with that guitar bash, Hobie!” Pav gushes at him, still heaving from the fight.
“It was a combined effort. Right, love?” He asks you, seemingly unbothered by the ruckus.
“Oh shit, yeah! You flew with that serum real quick!” Gwen leaves his side, practically bouncing on her feet as she bounds towards you. “Good job!” She reaches towards you with a fist bump, waiting for you to bump your knuckles with hers. “C’mon then!” She encourages you, lopsided smile never fading as she patiently waits.
You stare at her fist, then to Hobie. He shrugs, and you swear you see an outline of his smile from under his mask. With a sigh, you gently, and slowly bump your fist with Gwen's.
“Hell yeah!” Gwen jumps for joy, you guess that the adrenaline is making her giddy. “See, I told you that she's warming up to me!”
“Sure, Gwen.” Pav huffs, “You're not the one having afternoon chai with her in my dimension!”
“You what?!” They argue with each other, both trying to one up each other by saying who's closer to you. In their minds, you're an unstoppable, unmoving and nonchalant boulder that no one can ever beat. They seem to think you're the coolest spider woman there is, Hobie thinks so too without a doubt.
Hobie chuckles, putting his guitar on his back as he makes his way over to you. His hand sneakily snakes over your waist, brow raised when you sigh at him blatantly. The orange hue from the opened portal shines on your mask, bathing you in its warm glow. He thinks you look marvelous, incredibly fit in his own words.
“What?” He asks innocently as he squeezes your hip. He swears he saw you roll your eyes behind your mask as you both enter inside the portal.
—
Your legs are intertwined with his while you're both lounging on Hobie's patchwork couch. His arm is around your shoulder while you continue to dab the cotton ball full of antiseptic on the slash right next to his elbow. His fingers play with your hair, calloused pads twirling the strands around his fingers. His head is resting right beside your bicep, eyes glued onto your cute expression while you patch him up.
Your eyes glance at his lovestruck expression, smile slowly curling on your lips as you see him wink at you sluggishly. “Careful, it might stay like that forever.”
“Don't want that,” he pats your knee before cupping it in his warm hand, thumb etching little hearts around your soft skin. “You might think ‘m winkin’ at everyone.”
Chuckling, you shake your head at his antics as you feel him gently tug at your hair. Completely dotting on you whilst you pamper him with antiseptic and bandages. “That could be a problem, people might think I'm back on the market.”
“Then we really can't have that.” He mutters through his own smile. He can't help but adore you and your rare laugh, which makes it worth more than gold to him. “Is it true about you havin' tea with Pav?”
“Why? You jealous?” You finally finish up his arm, fingers smelling like alcohol and antiseptic. He straightens up enough for him to lean against the sofa, nose all scrunched up from your comment. “You are!” Poking his chest, you twist in your seat to lay your head on his lap, which he welcomes wholeheartedly with his hand immediately flying towards your head to cradle your smiling face.
“‘m not, lovie. Trust me, I know you two are gossipin’ together with his aunt.” It's his turn to poke your cheek as you continue to beam at him through your giddy look.
“We're gossiping about you by the way.” You scooch impossibly closer to him, arms enveloping around his waist like he's made out of honey and you're a very hungry bear. Your cheek is pressed lovingly on his lean stomach whilst he caresses your hair. You hear and feel him laugh, slightly bouncing you up and down from his chuckling.
“‘Bout what, hm?” Hobie lifts his legs up on the couch to cage you in, he feels your smile against his shirt.
“About how you keep forgetting to put the toilet seat down.” Your muffled voice reverberates through him. He feels warm and fuzzy inside when you lift your face up from his stomach with a wide smile that reminds him of a gopher peeking its head out cutely from the burrow.
“It was one time, love!” Your giggling can be heard throughout the houseboat. “And it was in the middle of the bloody night.” He pats your behind as you continue to laugh at him and his excuse.
“One time too many, love.” You copy his tone, effectively teasing him. “Besides, I still can't get your face out of my mind when you jumped out of bed from how I screamed.”
He remembers how he leaped up from the bed with such ferocity that he hit all of the corners he passed to get to you. “And I can't get the image of you stuck on the toilet.” He mirrors your smile, and you can't help but poke his dimple.
“Still looked fit though, right?”
Hobie leans against your hand, “bloody fuckin' fit, lovie.”
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Hii I have short drabble prompt how about the reader makes plushies of them and Hobie similar people making hello Kitty of themselves and partner hope having good day/night
Hi, lovely! I hope this is what you meant! Thank you for requesting ❤️❤️
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 1.6k
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, subtle talk of marriage, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff
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The ribbon in your hands is soft and silky to the touch. Your music blares in your ears as you wrap his anniversary present, you still can't believe that you and Hobie have been going strong for a year now. A year full of love and annoying each other with teasing remarks. You smile at the fond memories flitting through your mind like a film roll showing you all the best bits.
Finally tying the ribbon to perfection, you stare proudly at how well you packaged his gift. The box is covered in checkered wrapping paper with the ribbon in the same ruby hue. Now that you're staring at it, the present looks more like a Christmas gift than an anniversary present.
Your pride takes a hit, shoulders slumping down at the thought. “Shit.” Now you gotta start all over again, preferably with new wrapping paper. Maybe something that has hearts on it will be better? Or something that matches with the gift you've painstakingly worked hard on for weeks will fit better? Or will that be too on the nose?
Thinking very hard on a very hard decision, you don't hear the sound of keys outside your flat, and the unmistakable jiggle of the doorknob as it opens with a squeak.
“You need some oil on this, lovie—” he stops in his tracks when you don't immediately greet him with a hug or a loud ‘Hobie!’ the second he enters. He finds it…weird to not be cuddled right away. You've spoilt him.
Hobie tilts his head to the side, peeking through the open kitchen only to not find you whistling a tune while making something sweet. Pocketing the spare key you gave him so that he stops popping up from your fire escape, he crosses the modest flat in hopes of finding you. Lest his surprise goes to waste, or worse, eaten by London pigeons.
Knocking on the bedroom door, he calls your name sweetly with a sing-song lilt. Of course he didn't forget what day it is today. How could he when it's been marked on his calendar since the day you said yes to him being your boyfriend? He has been counting down the days, annoyingly so to the gang at spider society, who are probably waiting for the news on how the day went.
“Love?” He peeks inside when you don't answer, he knows you're in there when he can hear the blaring music from where he's standing. A grin spreads across his pierced lips, seeing how your hips are gently swaying to the music, arms crossed in front of you like you're in deep contemplation.
Sneaking in, it doesn't take much for him to go unnoticeable by you when your music is ear burstingly loud. He looks over your shoulder to look at what's got your pants in a twist, his eyes widens when he sees the finely wrapped gift, grin getting bigger at how excited he is to open it.
But before he could surprise you, hoping that he'll hear you screech so loud that the neighbours would complain about the noise, you're unfurling the ribbon already with a gentle tug.
“Wait— oi!” He immediately wraps his arms around your middle, effectively stopping you from opening his present. Your shocked scream pierces his eardrums more than your music.
“Holy— Hobie?!”
“That's right, lovie.” He smirks at your shocked expression. When you tilt your head to look at him, he presses a surprise kiss on the tip of your nose, effectively flustering you in his arms.
You swear your legs would've given out if not for his arms around you. “What— you're early!”
“Y’know what they say, early bird gets the present.” He chuckles at your forced laugh. “‘sides, I think ‘m late because you're already openin’ my present.”
“How presumptuous,” you lean against his warm chest, mirroring his grin. “Maybe this isn't yours.”
“You sure that's not my name on the card?”
“I'm pretty sure it's not your name.” You tamp down a chuckle.
“Who’s it for then?” He raises a brow, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Ned?”
“Close, it's for James.”
“That bloody wanker doesn't even know your last name!” He squeezes you tighter, lifting you up from your feet, and face nuzzling the crook of your neck, effectively tickling you.
“And you do?!” You say in between laughter, riling him up further.
He stops for reprieve and air, still squeezing you in his arms. “Fuck yeah I do!”
“What is it then, Mr. Brown?” You raise your chin at him like you're challenging him.
“You just said it, love.” Your cheeks feel like it's on fire, smile faltering for a second before it's replaced with a lopsided grin. “Or it'll be in a few years I bet.”
You bite your lip to tamp down any giddy laughter from escaping. “Care to bet good money on it?”
“Nah, it'll be cheatin’ because I already know I'll win.” He winks at you all suave like, and pressing another chaste yet affectionate kiss on your searing cheek. Letting you go, and fixing your balance once his arms aren't around you anymore, he walks towards his gift. “What's this then?”
“It wouldn't make sense if I told you now, Hobie.” You sigh out, completely lovestruck with him that your legs refuse to stand up as you plummet down on the bed with a squeak.
Hobie picks the box up gingerly, “why were you openin’ it?”
You shrug on the mattress. “I thought it looked too Christmas-ssy. I was about to change the wrapping until you shocked me into a near heart attack.”
“‘cus of all the red?” He's trying incredibly hard not to rip the wrapping open to see his present. He sits down next to you with your gift gingerly placed on his lap.
“Mm-hmm,” you lay on your side, cheek squished on the bed. “You can open it, you know.”
“Thank fuck, I was holdin’ back.”
He's much more gentle at opening the gift even though he's itching to see what's inside. In the end the wrapping is still intact and the ribbon is wrapped around his head like a bandana, courtesy of a playful you.
“Fuckin' hell, is that me?” He looks at the inside of the box then to you, “and…You!” His childish giggling echoes around your room. You smile as he lifts both plushies up from its cardboard confinement. “Did you make these?” Hobie holds them up side by side.
His plushie is as soft and cuddly as the real one, complete with his regular spiky and leather fit. His eyes are buttons that are in the same shade as his hazel ones, you've even captured his signature smirk through the stitching. Yours is just as accurate as the real one, you're wearing your favourite outfit, the one you wore on your first real date with him. But with the added touch of his spiked bracelet that he gave you on your third date with him. All made by you from scratch.
A sudden shyness envelopes you like a blanket. Hands clammy and chest heavy. “Do you like them?”
“Love,” he makes a face, wordlessly saying 'really?’ with his handsome face. “I fuckin' love it!” Pouncing on you, he embraces you as he lays atop you. Calloused hands cradling your cheeks whilst he peppers your face with warm and affectionate kisses. “You're a bloody wizard, how the fuck did you make these so perfectly?” He says as he lifts himself above you, beaming down at you with endearment.
“I had to stare at your picture for hours on end.” You act like it was a tedious task. You loved making the plushies with all of your heart.
“A win win then?” Tilting his head, he can't help but smile even more that his cheeks are starting to hurt.
“Absolutely.” You say with a chuckle, “I also started on a Spider-Man suit for plushie you, but I haven't finished it yet.”
“You goddamn angel.” He coos, “don't finish it yet, let me help you, yeah?” You nod as he leans closer to etch his lips upon yours. But he stops halfway, paused as he stares at your blissful face while your eyes are closed and lips pursed in waiting. “First…” you crack one eye open, lips still puckered together. He squeezes your lips together playfully with his index and thumb before letting go as you fake a pout. “You need to see your present.”
Hobie lifts himself off you in one swift motion. “What is it?”
“That beats the purpose of a surprise, innit?” In one fell swoop, he pulls you off the bed, standing you back up. “C’mon then.”
“Wait, hold on!” He's already walking out towards the fire escape. Picking up the plushies, you connect their hands together. The magnet you've stitched inside pulls the soft hands together like they're holding hands. “Ta da! I almost forgot I did that.”
Hobie looks at you in awe. “You never fail to surprise me, lovie.” He says it so sweetly that you almost melted into a puddle right there and then. “Bring them with.”
You take a step forward, arms full of the mini Hobie and you. “Wait, we're swinging to get there?”
He shrugs with the familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “There's traffic.”
Meeting with him, he immediately pulls you towards him with a strong sturdy arm. “You better not fake drop me, Hobie.” You say as he gestures for you to wrap your legs around his hips.
Standing up, he climbs over the balcony, feet precariously perched on the thin metal. “That was one time, love.” With one hand, he holds you in place, the other is raised and aiming towards the nearest building.
“One time too many—!” He jumps off and you feel your stomach leave your body. His cackling can be heard above the rushing wind kissing your cheeks.
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I heard request were open and I immediately came here.
A snowy day with dad!Hobie au! Cooking food together! building snowman’s etc!
-💗
This prompt had me in near tears, I love it sm! Thank you for requesting, my love!! (I looked like this the entire time writing it --- 🥹)
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, cw food mentions, Dad! Hobie, Mom! Reader, Billie and Ramona AU, Twin Au. FLUFF
A/N: The twins are a little bit older here! I love them sm 🥹
ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ
You and Hobie woke up to freezing temperatures which turned into a blessing in disguise because you two were entangled together on the bed, cuddled comfortably. Legs intertwined, arms looped around each other like a koala. He presses sleepy kisses on your cool cheeks, his excuse? He says he's keeping you warm and away from hypothermia.
The snow falls outside, frosting the windows. Hobie's senses tingle, he stops his barrage of kisses for a moment.
“The gremlins are comin’” he murmurs over your cheek.
“How do you wanna do this? Fake sleep or hide under the bed?” your eyes are half lidded, cool hands splayed under his shirt for warmth.
Sure enough, the soft pitter patter of socked feet runs towards your bedroom. Their giggles waking you up in an instant.
Hobie hums, the vibrations spreading through your face. “Too tired, let's act like we froze from the cold”
“This is why I love you” falling limp, smooching him quickly, you close your eyes once again. Hobie acts as your shield from the anticipated jumping you're about to endure.
The doors burst open, your girls' unmistakable laughter echoes out in your shared bedroom. You hear an ‘oomf’ sound from both sides of the bed, you surmise that they're both having a hard time reaching the top. After some shuffling about, tiny hands and feet crawl over the duvet, their stifled giggles making you lose your act with a tiny smile.
“Shhh” someone on your right shushes the other. “they're still sleeping, Billie”
“They won't be for long!” Thanks to your human shield, you don't get the brunt of Billie’s foot on your stomach. Unfortunately, Hobie gets the full force of five year old strength.
Yet, he stays strong, still faking sleep. Also thanks to his enhanced strength, he barely felt it. But you can't help but cringe for him.
“Mum’s awake!” Mona crawls further up to cup your cheek in her tiny hands. Your daughter gasps, “she's frozen!”
You screech and in turn, Hobie does the exact same thing you do, flailing your arms to envelope each girl in a surprise hug. Mona laughs with her belly, her legs are kicking about, trying to escape your wrath. While Billie yelps before screaming out a “Tickles!” when Hobie's scruff nudges her neck.
“Got a live one here–!” Hobie sputters when he gets a mouthful of Billie's hair. She giggles, bringing her head closer to her dad's face, almost headbutting Hobie.
After a moment of giggles and happy screeches, you and Hobie lay wheezing while the girls are energetic as ever, jumping excitedly on the mattress.
“It's snowing, did you see?!” Billie lands on top of you, her chin laying on your chest comfortably. “Mummy, did you see?”
“I can feel it, Muffin. It's freezing!” you squeeze her tightly, burying your face in her curly hair.
Mona drops gracefully in between you and Hobie, cuddling next to him.
“‘m hungry. What's for breakfast?” She looks up at Hobie with her big eyes, reminiscent of Hobie's exact face when he wants something from you. But for Mona it all comes naturally to her.
“How am I supposed to make breakfast when my hands have fallen off from the cold?” He lifts up his hands tucked inside his pajama sleeves, looking like his hands are nowhere near his arms.
“Daddd!” They simultaneously say while you chuckle.
“Have some sympathy for your dad, his hands are gone!”
Billie plays along, “how are you gonna use your webby now?” You've called Hobie's web shooters as webby since they could talk and now it's stuck in their vocabulary.
“Billie and I could be Spider-Man now, dad” Mona says in between giggles, five year old vocabulary working its magic.
“Yeah!” Billie exclaims.
Hobie turns to you while the girls talk about their plans on how to stop crime together.
“Our girls don't have empathy, what did we do wrong?” He smiles throughout it, moving Mona's head to give you a quick kiss. How could he resist when the light shines directly at your smiling face, lashes kissing your cheeks as you grin widely at his girls? He has to indulge or else he'll burst at the seams
—
After a hearty breakfast, Hobie and Billie decided it's time for a snowman competition. The snow has gotten thick enough that you have to wade through it like mud. So while Hobie’s helping Billie with all her layers, Ramona sits on a bar stool next to you, eyes enthralled by the swirling hot chocolate inside the pot.
“Are you sure you don't want to join them, cheese?” With one hand you grip her shirt so she doesn't fall on the stove, on the other is the wooden spoon you're using to stir the pot.
“Yes, I want hot chocolate” she sniffs at the chocolate smell.
“You can have hot chocolate and play with them”
“I don't like the cold,” she murmurs.
You hear the door creak open and then Billie's excited squealing, a second later you hear a thud, like something or someone fell into a pile of snow, then you hear Hobie's loud laughter.
“That's okay, we'll stay here. Then we'll judge who wins the snowman competition, sounds good?”
She nods, smiling a toothy smile at you. “Can I have the heart marshmallows?”
How could you say no to that face? “Of course,” you nuzzle her soft curls. “Do you want extra milk?”
“Yes please!”
You hear a knocking on the kitchen windows, craning your neck to look, you see Hobie holding Billie up by her armpits, her face is squished on the glass, nose flattened and lips puckered.
That can't be sanitary.
“Hobie, that window isn't clean”
Billie waves at you and her sister, eyes bright and happy. “I drowned in the snow!” she points at a patch of snow, sure enough there's a Billie shaped hole in it. “Can you see, Mony?”
“I can! And mum says that window is dirty!” She grimaces.
“Dad! Mum says the glass is dirty!” She looks below her.
You hear a muffled “Crap!”
Well at least he tried not to swear that hard—
Mona tugs at your sleeve. “What does crap mean? Dad says it a lot”
“Hobart Brown!”
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Timebomb ⏱️💣
Okayyyy Miles and Gwen I see you- they deserve art and more art they are so darn cute yall I cant t ake thisd nf. I was actually in the middle of drawing some angst Caitvi art but somehow ended up finishing this one first instead. Lest and Cait were practise art!! decided to just add them in here too with a lil extra, enjoy!! 🫶💖
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Speed Drive
🎉500 celebration fic🎉
Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader
Word count: 6.2k
Synopsis: You come along with Hobie on a road trip to Glasgow. Aka the fic where I squeezed in multiple dream dates of mine lol
Tags: Use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mention, reader is a history nerd (definitely not projecting), the reader can't drive, sunshine! Reader. Suggestive content, lovestruck Hobie, Established relationship. FLUFF.
A/n: I did some research on the places they went to, if there are any inaccuracies on the geography/ information, please note that I've never been to any of these places, I'm only basing my knowledge on what I've researched and what I've studied in uni.
* I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms and copy and pasted on any ai software*
Navigation
Masterlist
You grunt as you lift the heavy amp, back straightened so you don't accidentally sprain yourself. Waddling towards Hobie's van, amp sitting heavily near your waist. The sun is just about rising on the horizon, painting the pavement deep blue. The water laps at the house boat's side, the sound familiar, adding to the relaxed atmosphere where you and Hobie are the only ones awake in the entire city. The early morning air nips at your skin, leaving goosebumps on the back of your neck.
Suddenly, strong familiar arms wrap around the amp. "What are you doin'? Told you I've got them" Hobie clicks his tongue, taking the amp from you.
He's annoyed but not at you, he's irritated that he got the short end of the stick, ending up waking up early (too early) to load the instruments. You don't take it to heart, knowing his annoyance isn't because of you. It would've been better if he just helped his band mates load them in, but lady luck wasn't on his side. Unfortunately he also got driving duties, now he has to drive seven hours to get to Glasgow for the band's very first big gig. Leaving the rest of the band to take (a very comfortable) train ride at a later hour. Hobie's a bit jealous on that end, he would've liked for you to see the sights on a train instead of sitting on his old van that creaks when he steers a little too far to the left.
The only silver lining about the impromptu road trip is you. Seven hours on the road with just you is pure bliss, if only he didn't have to wake up in this ungodly hour, he would've been in a better mood.
"Sorry, you were busy loading in the drums. Thought I would help" you look up at him through equally tired eyes. A cloud of breath escaping when you talk. Hobie zips your jacket further up, keeping you warm.
He heaves the amp on one arm, effortlessly carrying it. "Don't be, you're just trying to help." Hobie feels guilty for clicking his tongue at you. He holds your cold hand, sharing his warmth.
"You're definitely not a morning person" you squeeze his hand. "grumpy" bringing his hand to your lips, you leave a chaste kiss over his knuckles. "Is that the last one?"
"Think so," he looks around the area, finding nothing else to load inside the van. "Don't forget to bring in the thermos, you're turning into an icicle"
"Okay, I made us sandwiches" you smile at him, swinging your intertwined hands.
"What kind?" He stomps down his grumpy demeanor at the sound of breakfast.
"Lots!" You grin excitedly at him, Hobie wonders where you got your sudden burst of energy.
"Fuckin' hell, no wonder why you were up so late. You made every conceivable sandwich in the world" he jokes, your happy energy spreading to him.
You chuckle, "not every single one. You have the first pick for waking up so early"
"Yeah? Even though you threatened to splash me with water?" He raises a pierced brow, a smile curling on his lips.
You wince, "yeah, sorry. It finally got you to wake up though!"
"Yeah, yeah, and here I thought you would wake me up with a kiss"
"I did! Like five fucking times. You wouldn't even stir, I got desperate, okay!" You laugh, it echoes around the silent neighborhood.
"I believe you, can you get our bags from inside? I'll warm up the van" Hobie reluctantly lets go of your hand. You feel cold already.
"Get it nice and toasty for me?"
"What are you? Banana bread?"
"Funny" you point at him playfully, walking backwards.
"Don't forget the bloody Thermos!" He yells after you, following you with his gaze, making sure you don't trip because you decided to walk backwards.
You wink at him, "okay, dad!"
"Lil shit" he says with a smile.
—
Munching on your sandwich, Hobie cranked up the heating, you're now warm and toasty in your seat. The leather squeaks when you move to feed Hobie a bite of your sandwich. He *insists that he prefers yours even though you made an identical one. Hobie's free hand is glued to your thigh, squeezing it from time to time, making sure you don't fall asleep on him.
Hobie keeps his eyes on the road, trying to take a bite of the sandwich that you've teasingly moved a few inches away from his waiting mouth.
He bites at air, "Oi, what the fuck" you snicker, biting your lip. Hobie immediately figures out what you're doing, "don't make me swerve this fucking car into that ditch"
"Jeez, okay!" You laugh, leaning closer (as much as the seat belt would allow you to) Hobie takes a generous bite, "you're still grumpy? Do you need more coffee?" You rub at the corner of his mouth with your thumb, cleaning the bread crumbs. He hums appreciatively.
"I don't think that coffee's workin' too well" he says while chewing. "We're not even out of the city yet" Hobie huffs.
"Do you want me to drive for a bit?" You wait for his reaction with a tiny smirk.
"You haven't got a license," He says matter-of-fact, "you don't even know how to drive" he doesn't sound condescending or making fun of you, his voice laced with endearment. He makes a mental note to teach you once you two get back home. His fingers pinches you through your pants.
"I'm a fast learner" you joke, Hobie cracks a sleep deprived smile, oh he's definitely not a morning person. "Give it time, you basically drank the entire thermos. Maybe some music could help?"
"If it's your music, I'm gonna fall asleep on the wheel" He squeezes your thigh, just in case you didn't get his joke.
"If it's your music, It's going to burst my eardrums this early in the morning" you quip back.
"Nice. Sandwich me, love" he opens his mouth, darting his eyes from the road to you before his gaze goes back to watching the road.
You lean again, holding up the almost finished sandwich. "Do you know who invented the sandwich?" Hobie eats the entire thing in one bite, almost taking your fingers off. You glare playfully at him.
He chuckles, mouth full. "No, who?"
"Lord Sandwich, the fourth earl of Sandwich in the eighteenth century"
"You're fucking with me" Hobie takes a left turn, the van creaks, instruments in the back sliding a bit. You watch his hand turn the steering wheel, mesmerized by how his large hand grips the wheel. His rings don't help, you tilt your head, watching intently.
He pinches your thigh, getting your attention. "Hey, where'd you go?"
"Sorry, I was trying to recall the rest of the fact" you blink back to reality.
"Will you be like this the entire trip? Watching my bloody hands, you perv" He read you like an open book.
"What– I wasn't, okay! I was–" you fumble with your words.
He has a playful smirk on his lips. "You were what? Fantasizing my hands wrapped around your–"
"Stop!" You hold his hand that's on your thigh, so he could stop his teasing.
"What? I was gonna say 'wrapped around your hand', honestly what did you think I was gonna say?" He asks you playfully, shoving your shoulder lightly.
"it's too early for this shit" you mumble with a playful pout, intertwining your fingers with his.
He laughs, eyes crinkling into a smile. Hobie brings your hand to his lips, placing a quick peck on your warm hand. "Ah, too early for it? Maybe later then?"
You groan but your smile and the twinkle in your eyes says otherwise.
"What were you talking about? 'Bout the sandwich bloke?"
"John Montagu, he invented the sandwich because he didn't have time to eat a proper meal while he was playing cards and working."
"Bloody rich lord" he grumbles with malice.
"Hey, if not for him you wouldn't be eating one of my Sandwiches"
"I love eating your sandwich" he raises a teasing brow, proud of his innuendo.
"What is up with you this morning?" You laugh, playing with one of his rings, twirling the metal around his index finger. "Seriously, did I accidentally make you coffee with something in it? Is that why it says 'special' in the packaging?"
Hobie laughs loudly, echoing around the van. "You think they'd put an aphrodisiac in coffee?" He lets go of your hand for a bit while he steers the wheel with both hands. "Like ginkgo biloba or somethin'?"
You reach for his free hand immediately after he lets go of the wheel to lay it back on your thigh. "No like pistachio nuts or–" you try to think of another example, "— crab" you giggle when the word escapes your lips.
"Crab?!" He rides with your bit. "Must be some expensive bloody coffee, lovey" Hobie rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. "No wonder I tasted something fishy in that coffee"
You gasp, feigning offense. "You did not!" contributing to the bit.
"Now who's crabby this morning, huh?" He chuckles.
You roll your eyes at his pun, "argh, can't believe I have to endure seven more hours of this" teasing him, your sentence has no ounce of truth in it whatsoever. More than happy to accompany him on the trip.
"It'll be the best seven hours of your life, sweets" He looks at you through the rearview mirror with a smirk.
You can read him like a book too. Narrowing your eyes, you can just tell he has something planned, but you can't quite put your finger on it.
"You've got something up your sleeves? Spill it, Hobart"
He sideways glances at you, hiding his knowing smile. "Don't know what you're on about" Hobie clears his throat, playing it cool.
"Nope, I know you, babe. That fucking smirk of yours, I know it!" You lightly poke at his cheek.
"Lovey, I haven't got a scooby doo. I'm just here drivin' trying to get us to Glasgow"
"You get very detailed when you're lying. I know your tells!"
"That so?" He makes a mental note of what you've said, which might be handy the next time he has a surprise. Hobie opens the radio, cd already inside, it plays a loud tune, drowning out your questions.
"Hey!" You yell through the loud music. Hobie almost gives himself away with a laugh, he bites his lip to stifle it. "Whatever– wherever you're planning to stop at some backroad tourist attraction, we better not be too late for the show!"
Hobie cranks the volume up, "What? Can't hear you through the music" he gestures towards his ear.
You press the 'volume down' button, covering your ears. Now you're definitely both wide awake. "You're an ass, you can't have any more of my sandwiches" huffing, you grab a ziplock of sandwich just to tease him more.
Banter fills the van, laughs and flirty words entertain you until sleep comes back to haunt you. Unexpectedly falling asleep, Hobie lets you snooze away in his passenger seat. Avoiding potholes, slowing down when passing a speed bump. He even uses his arm to act as your second seat belt whenever he turns sharply, hand cradling your head so you don't fall off the headrest.
Hobie has the urge to wake you though, but he needs you at full energy for what he's planning on taking you. Eyes drifting to the van's console, he gazes at your camera, taking a mental note to remember to give you the extra roll of films he bought for you.
—
Hobie shuts off the engine, eyes bleary, he clicks the seatbelt off of him. He has the urge to close his eyes and join you in slumberland. One look at your sleeping face almost pushes him off the edge.
He leans closer to you, hand cupping your jaw, he taps your face with his thumb. "Love" you don't stir, eyes still closed. Hobie's so attuned to you that he knows you're not faking it.
He kisses you chastely, warm lips puckering to wake you up. Hobie calls your name this time, poking your cheek. You still sleep, lips slightly parted. He's absolutely jealous of you right now. Peppering your face with kisses, he fully intends to wake you up. Defeated, you still lay asleep.
A bright idea pops up in his mind. Pulling away, Hobie grips the steering wheel with both hands, arms length away from him. He screams bloody murder like he's about to hit a wall.
You jump away, yelling for a second before seeing the parking lot bare, van parked safely. You clutch your chest, eyes now wide awake. Slapping his arm, you glare at him. Hobie has a shit-eating grin on his face, arm raised to shield himself. His laugh echoes.
"You fucker!" Slap "I could've" slap "gotten a heart attack!" You huff with a pout.
"I'm sorry, c'mere" he tries to hug you, standing your ground, you cross your arms on your chest. "You wouldn't wake up! I'm sorry, please?" Hobie flexes his fingers, face apologetic.
"Are we here? Did I sleep the entire time?"
"No, lovey. We're at a stopover" he points outside with his head. "'m really sorry. If there's any consolation I think you'll like this place"
Your eyes zero in on the sign, reading it loudly, "Stratford Upon-Avon?!" Screeching excitedly. You click off your seat belt with urgency, with the intention of leaving Hobie hanging as revenge. You'll kiss him thank you later anyway.
Opening the door, you step off, stretching your legs and breathing in fresh air. Warmer air greets you, a much kinder one from a few hours ago. Trainers bouncing off in excitement. Greenery and old timey Houses fill your vision, adding to your eagerness.
Hobie joins your side, your sling bag over his broad shoulder. Hiding his disappointment from your lack of hug, he only blames himself for scaring the crap out of you.
"Y/n." The lack of the term of endearment alerts you, whirling around, you see his shoulders slumped, face clearly hiding his true feelings behind a straight face. You know he'll feel worse if you don't try to reassure him. So you do, hand signaling him to hold yours.
He blames the early morning for making him all lovesick, if it was the later hours, Hobie would've stuck to teasing you about your reaction. With a sigh and a weak roll of his eyes, he steps in your arms instead of just holding your hand, head resting on your shoulder, yawning as you knead his aching back; you indulge him.
Good thing it's still too early for tourists to flock the area, save for a few scattered ones looking for a place to have breakfast at.
"Apology accepted," leaning back, you straighten the knots on his forehead. "You need better coffee" you scrunch your nose at his closed eyes.
"Or sleep" he grumbles.
"Do you want to sleep for a bit inside the van?" You feel bad for sleeping the entire time. "I'll stay with you don't worry. I won't fall asleep this time."
He shakes his head, slapping his own face to wake himself up. Jumping up and down with you still in his arms. You don't question it, jumping along with him. Metal accessories clinking together, boots thumping hard on the pavement.
Spluttering, he shakes his head vigorously. You giggle at his face.
"Alright, 'm good. Let's go get coffee"
—
You lead a very sleep deprived Hobie by the sleeve of his hoodie, too warm for his leather one yet too cold for just a t-shirt. He lets you drag him along, not because he's disinterested, sleepiness just got the best of him.
Gasping, you point at a unique streetlight. Little statues of a donkey and a man sitting on the metal sides, a curious owl placed on top, looking down on the street.
"Look at that donkey with a guitar!"
Hobie squints through the haziness, "think that's a lute. Kinda looks like you." He still finds the time to tease you even with heavy eyes. A smirk playing on his lips, watching you closely.
"You're the owl then" you let go of his sleeve, taking the camera from your bag, positioning and angling it for the best lighting. He watches your face full of concentration with a faint endearing smile.
Click.
"Got it" you smile, spotting a stand full of maps and information about the place. "Oohh" skipping over the display, you take one. "Hobie, look! Babe?" You look up from the pamphlet when Hobie doesn't reply back.
He walks towards you at a snail's pace. Grunting back in acknowledgement.
You wince, practically feeling his tiredness ooze out of him. "Let's get that coffee. There's a café near here."
"Overpriced coffee" he could only mumble out a protest. While you guide him towards the shop for some much needed refuel. It's not like he has any other choices, all the coffee shops near the area are unnecessarily expensive, save for gas station coffee– which is too far to get to right now, he might fall asleep while driving to it.
Hobie can't let himself drive through the fog of sleep, especially that you're with him. So he surrenders with the promise of getting his pep back so he can drive you safely to the next destination.
—
After gulping down two cups of coffee that made Hobie seethe after hearing the price, he leaves you on the table to go to the loo, your eyes glued on the leaflet, absorbing every word and information on it.
Hobie makes his way back, now wide awake, he watches you put too much milk on your cup, too distracted with reading– it overflows, spilling the hot liquid on the table. He has never loved you more when you jump in your seat, quietly yelping, clumsily wiping at the table with a napkin. He shakes his head with a fond smile and soft eyes.
Hobie asks for more napkins from the cashier, promptly heading towards your table. He helps you wordlessly, wiping, avoiding spilling any more expensive tea.
"Sorry" you expect Hobie to chastise you for spilling your drink, instead, he looks at you with concern and fondness.
"You alright? Didn't spill any on you?"
You smile softly, thankful eyes staring back at him. "I'm okay, it's not that hot anyway"
"Sure?" He takes his tea stained finger on the tip of your nose, leaving a wet patch over it. Green tea wafts your nostrils. "There's some on you"
"Ack!" Wiping it with a clean tissue, you roll your eyes; faint smile telling him otherwise.
"That's how it is then?" He chuckles, satisfied with your reaction. He sits down next to you, drying his hands on a napkin. Arm instinctively flying around your shoulder, holding you close. "Where to go next?"
"Hmm?" You hum, drinking what's left of your tea, "I thought you had it planned?"
"I planned on stopping here, thought you got the next part since you've always wanted to go here, y'know planned the entire trip in your head before"
For a second he thinks that you're disappointed in him for not planning ahead. The thought stops the second you beam at him, hands on his shoulder to anchor yourself on him. lips puckering to kiss him on the cheek quickly since you're in public. Hobie doesn't protest, leaning towards the kiss, angling his face so that your lips just about graze the corner of his lip. You know exactly what he's doing, you let him, moving slyly closer to his lips.
"Oh, you know me so well!" You say excitedly, pulling away, shaking his shoulder for emphasis. "First stop! The river Avon!"
—
"The ferry's closed" you come back to his side with a frown. Gusts of cool air rushes past, rustling your jacket, the leaves on the trees whisper and rustle in the wind, big fluffy clouds providing shade. The river laps at the dock, adding to your downturned lips. "The employee also said Shakespeare's house and the other houses are closed since it's too early"
"We'll just have to come back on our way home then" your frown turns back into a smile, poking his sides teasingly.
"You'll take me back here?" You say with a smirk, playful eyes smile back at him, finger poking his waist. "Ohhh, you're so smitten"
He takes your poking finger with a roll of his eyes, hiding the growing smile on his lips with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. Where to now, tour guide?"
"The butterfly farm is open early. Is that okay?"
"Why not?"
"We have to walk there, it's a bit of a trek" you shrug, "it's okay if we don't have time for it"
He calculates in his head, if you only stay an hour more, you two can be right back on schedule; just on time to get to Glasgow without being late for the show.
"We've got time to spare"
"You sure? I don't want us to be late" toe to toe with Hobie, finger still encased in his hand, you ask him anyway even though you know what his answer will be.
"Yes, let's go before people flock this place"
Hand in hand, you take in the sights, stopping from time to time to shoot pictures of the historical houses and buildings. Hobie becomes your model, posing like a natural in front of the lens. He wrangles the camera from you to take your picture right in front of Shakespeare's home and school. Shyness slowly edging away for a while as Hobie hypes you up. Instructing you to pose here and there.
You ran out of film before reaching the butterfly garden, stopping right in front of the royal Shakespeare theatre. The red bricks and dome like structure looms overhead.
"Aww, I think we used it all"
"'ve got more" he takes an extra roll of film from his pocket. You stare at him like he just did magic right in front of your eyes.
"Where'd you get this?" You say, bewildered.
"Brought it with me" he says nonchalantly like he didn't do the sweetest thing just for you.
"Have I told you lately that you're really amazing?" You load film inside the camera, quickly snapping a picture of his smug face.
"No, maybe you should say it often"
So enamored, chest filled with love, you agree. "Mm-hmm, maybe I should. Now, can you stand right there while I take a picture of your amazing face"
—
You finally make it to the butterfly garden. An arch with a large colourful butterfly display greets you. Inside is a beautiful glass greenhouse with a dome ceiling, it shines brightly in the early morning sun, adding to your excitement.
Once paid for the tickets, you and Hobie head inside, you're practically jumping off the glass walls. Hobie's hand leads you inside, preventing you from sliding on the gravel and breaking your ankle on the rough ground.
You're in complete awe of the place, it looked beautiful outside but nothing compares to it once inside. The sun glows brilliantly, bouncing its rays on the glass ceiling and walls. Flora and greenery as far as your eyes could see, strategically placed around the massive greenhouse. The flowery and sweet smells entranced you to explore the entire place, not to mention the colorful butterflies in all shapes and sizes fluttering all around you. Birds make their morning sing-song adding to the fantastical atmosphere.
The look on your face makes waking up a few hours earlier than scheduled makes it all worth it for Hobie. He softly smiles at you, hands clasped comfortably over yours. Eyes sparkling, mirroring yours, he guides you further inside. You let him, neck craned up, watching as butterflies swirl overhead.
Gravel crunches under your footsteps, Hobie stops walking. You almost bumped into him, he tugs at your hand, pointing down on the shrubbery.
"What is that?" You squint, jumping when something green slithers further away from you two and into the thick greenery. "Woah!"
He chuckles at your reaction. You fumble for your camera to capture a photo of the iguana lounging in the warmth, scales as green as the leaves around it.
Click.
"Look, it's you!" You point at its sharp spikes, looking at Hobie with a teasing smile.
"Careful, he bites" he taunts back, making you retract your finger back.
Strolling around more, you take so many pictures, the film Hobie gave you is almost full. You've even snuck in candid pictures of Hobie, and by god, he looked great in all of them. While all your pictures looked like you were at a field trip with your parents, posing with a goofy smile on your face as a butterfly lands on your shoulder.
It's been almost an hour of exploring, so you hold his hand again to tug him towards the exit with a promise of going back, without a time constraint next time.
Crisp air greets you two, hand in hand, you walk by the river, watching as ducks and swans swim on the surface. Their quacking and honking gets louder and louder as they notice you, asking for food.
"Maybe we should've brought rice with us" You mumble, looking at the birds with an apologetic look as if they can understand you.
"Do you think if you fall in they'll eat you?" Hobie asks with a serious look on his face, a small smirk curling on his lips, the only indication that he's fully joking.
"I don't think they'll like me very much, I'm full of bread, which isn't nutritious for 'em" you playfully quipped back, squeezing his hand. He chuckles at your comment.
Hobie slyly moves you away from the river, just in case you actually fall in. He guides you to his right, so that he's the one nearest to the water instead of you. Hand holding your left one, you lean to his side, full of affection in your chest, you softly kiss his shoulder. Whispering softly a 'thank you'
—
You've been quiet for an hour, Hobie side eyes you from time to time. The sudden silence makes him concerned, moreso when your face has contorted into a grimace, eyebrows furrowed, you bite your lips with a sharp inhale.
He's worried since you've been extremely chatty an hour ago, voice filling the van, you help him stay awake. Well until he hit a speed bump that made you squeak out.
"You alright, lovey?" Hobie asks with a squeeze of your thigh.
You sit with a fluffy blanket over your lap, a neck pillow under your head. You look comfortable enough, so why do you look like you're in pain?
You exhale, looking at him through the corners of your eyes without moving your neck. "Mm-hmm"
"Mm-hmm? What's wrong? Is the seat not warm enough?" Hobie looks at you through the rearview mirror, seeing your knitted eyebrows.
You ball the blanket under your knuckles. "I'm okay"
He nods, unconvinced.
After a few moments of smooth driving on the highway, cars drive past, you squeeze your thighs together. Controlling your breathing, you try not to think of water.
"Love" he calls for you, "did you see that car with the flame decals on it?" Chuckling softly, he places his hand over your thigh again. Hobie feels the tight muscles under your pants, eyebrow raising in question.
"Y/n" he snickers under his breath. Hands kneading softly at your thigh. Hobie translates the squeezing of your thighs together and your elevated breathing, "I swear if you're hot and bothered, I can't park right here–"
"I need to pee" you say embarrassed, avoiding his eyes. Only finally admitting it so he doesn't actually think you're aroused for some reason.
Hobie laughs loudly, hand slapping the steering wheel. "I told you to go before we left"
"Hobie," you whine. "Not funny, I've been holding it for so long"
"Alright," he clams up, still smiling at your predicament. "There's no gas station near here, love. We're too far away to turn around but we're thirty minutes away from Manchester. We can stop there"
"Thirty?!" You're in agony, hands tucked in between your legs in an attempt to tamp down the need to go.
Hobie moves his hand from your thigh to the back of your neck, kneading softly. He presses the gas, if he hurries you can make it in twenty five without breaking any traffic laws. He makes a joke about you peeing in a bottle which you only glared in return.
Twenty minutes later, you're folded in half on your seat, head layed on your lap, trying to distract yourself by counting the threads in your blanket.
"Almost there, love. Hold on" Hobie pats your head in reassurance. You groan out a reply.
—
You jumped from your seat after a second of Hobie parking the car in front of a gas station. Hand tightening around your travel sized toilet paper.
Hobie patiently waits for you outside the door. Fingers fiddling with his web shooters tucked under his sleeve.
The door creaks open. His neck cranes up to meet your relieved face. "Success?"
"Remind me to not drink anything until we make it to Glasgow."
"You still need to drink some water y'know" he walks back to the car with your pinkies linked together.
"Are we still far?"
"A bit, let's stop by Liverpool to eat lunch" he opens the passenger door for you. You smile sweetly at the gesture.
"Thank you, sorry for being annoying" You hug his waist with one arm briefly just before you hop to your seat.
"Not annoying, tell me next time, yeah?"
"Okay" you lean down to press a kiss on his lips, savoring the moment. He hums into it, his hand right over your shoulder so that you don't fall off.
—
As the van passes through Manchester, you spot the canals, houseboats parked on the side, you get reminded of your shared home.
"Look! That one looks like ours, same color too"
"Missing home already?"
"Kind of. Wish we could stop here, they've got the oldest library in Britain" You lay your head over the window, watching as landmarks pass by in a blur.
"They also have a serial killer too"
You scoff, "in this day and age?" Looking at Hobie's face, you don't see any lie to his comment. Your face falls, "wait, you serious?"
He shrugs, side eyeing you. You have absolutely no idea if he's joking or not, Hobie's good at acting like that, especially if he's teasing you.
"Hobie, you're joking right?"
"Hmm?"
"Is there actually a killer on the loose here?" You instinctively check the door locks.
He doesn't respond, adding to your fear. You completely miss the mischievous look on his face though.
"I don't want to stop here anymore" you mumble.
"We could always take a detour right now–"
"Nope, no thank you" you answer lightning quick.
He hides his smile behind his hand. Maybe he'll tell you all about it on the return trip.
—
An hour later you're sitting down outside a local restaurant in Chinatown, waiting for your food to arrive. The air blows softly, fluttering your lashes. You close your eyes, head resting on your hand, elbow over the table. You can see the faint outline of the Liverpool cathedral underneath the fog. It's gotten a few degrees colder since you've arrived, the streets shine from the earlier rain, petrichor wafts your senses.
Two bowls of warm noodles are placed in front of you. Side dishes, dimsum and xiaolongbao makes your stomach rumble at the sight and savory smell.
"Thank you," you smile at the waiter.
Wondering where Hobie went, lo and behold, he emerges, walking towards you with a paper cup of convenience store coffee. "Food is here, you still need coffee?"
He sits down across from you. "Yeah, needed another boost" Hobie scrunches his nose before standing up again, moving his chair right next to you, avoiding it from scraping the concrete. He sits back down, arm thrown over the back of your chair.
You look at him with a fond smile, heart eyes staring back at Hobie.
"What?" He challenges you with a raised eyebrow and faint smirk.
"Nothin'" you shove him lightly with your shoulder.
"Hm" he hums, you translate it to an 'obviously'
You eat with content, letting him steal some of your broth from your bowl, in exchange, he gives you a dimsum from his share.
—
You do your best at reading the booklet about Liverpool that you've bought before leaving the city while the vehicle moves.
"The guy who designed the cathedral is the same person who designed the red telephone box"
Hobie listens intently with coffee coursing through his veins, stomach full of food, he's properly fueled to drive for more than four hours to Glasgow. His band mates better be there already when you two arrive or he'll wring their necks.
There won't be any more stops until you get to the destination since there'll only be the highway to drive on. It stretches far, cars whirring past. With Sprawling green hills, and mountains curved around the highway makes the drive much more serene. Powerlines on the sides ground you, making it all seem familiar. The weather is foggy, blanketing the England to Scotland border.
The van rattles as Hobie swerves the car to the right. He plants his hand back in your knee, palm circling the curve of it affectionately.
"Ohh, they've got a beach" you stare at the picture of the nature reserve with its sandy windswept dunes, and grassy knolls.
"Add that to the list"
"Okay" you take out a pen from the glovebox, biting the cap off with your teeth, you scribble it on the back of the booklet where there's an empty space. Using your thighs as a table, you add the destination on your little list right under 'old thatch tavern'
"There," you hum happily.
"Is there anything on there 'bout Glasgow?" He kneads your knee with his knuckle.
"A tiny bit" you flip to the back, "they've got a mural trail, we might pass through it on the way. Ooh they also have a glasshouse."
You two pass the time by giving him facts about the places you've passed. Hobie listens in, adding his own knowledge to the mix. An hour later, you're both jamming to his music cassette. You try to make him laugh by banging your head to the song. Whipping your head too hard, you end up banging it on the dashboard.
With wide eyes and laughter threatening to spill out, Hobie comforts you with his palm over your forehead.
You two chat about with you feeding him crisps in between, exchanging stories and playing 'I spy' Hobie ends up winning with his enhanced vision, you challenge him again with a huff. He still wins the second and third round. His prize? Hobie tells you he's gonna hold onto it until you reach Glasgow.
At hour three, the car makes a metal groaning sound in the middle of the highway, you and Hobie looked at each other in fear for a second, silent and waiting for the van to keel over. You both sigh in relief after a few good minutes of silence with the car still running smoothly. Good thing it did because you have no idea how you'll make it to Glasgow if it did decide to just die in the middle of the road.
Before you know it, Hobie parks the van near the venue. Clicking off his seatbelt while you stretch in your seat. Hobie leans towards you, elbow right over the center console, he helps you with your seatbelt before promptly moving his hand to your cheek to face him.
"Can I help you?" You giggle, pecking the tip of his nose. "Are you claiming your prize?"
"This isn't my prize, lovey." He softly says against your lips. "That'll wait for later"
"Okay," you feel like your cheeks are on fire.
"This is my thanks" He meets your waiting lips, moving with yours. Cupping his jaw, thumb rubbing his cheeks, you breathe through your nose so the kiss would last longer yet it still leaves you breathless. You feel his hand around your nape, deepening the kiss further.
Hobie pulls away, seeing your pupils completely dilated, chest heaving for air.
"Thanks for what?" You ask breathlessly.
"Comin' with me" with his finger, he wipes the sheen off your lips, it stays there for a second, savoring, longing. For everything.
"You could've asked me to go anywhere and I still would've gone. As long as it's with you."
He answers with another kiss, laced with so much love and thankfulness, you feel it all through it.
A sudden knock has you pulling away, Hobie clicks his tongue at the intrusion. Turning around, he spots his bandmates whistling and wiggling their eyebrows. One was making a gesture that made you hide your face.
"You fuckin' wankers!" Hobie opens the door, slamming it on his friends' faces, they scatter, hooting and hollering, taunting him.
You watch as Hobie play fights with them, arm choking his bass player. With a lopsided smile on your face, excitement bubbles in your chest, the return trip and his promise makes you excited more than anything.
A/N: this fic is long overdue that we're at 700 already! Thank you all so much for reading and interacting with my little stories! Love all 700 of you ❤️
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The Morning after
Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader
Word count: 2.2k
Synopsis: you spend a peaceful morning with Hobie.
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (reader is mentioned to be smaller than Hobie though) TW food mentions, established relationship, FLUFF , lovestruck Hobie.
A continuation of this fic.
My Masterlist
*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*
Hobie wakes up with his right arm aching, he groans from the weight slightly crushing his arm– wait what?
He opens his half asleep eyes with a confused look. Hobie cranes his neck down, he finally sees who the intruder is.
Hobie smiles to himself, Fully waking up, he remembers that he invited you over. He stares at your form, memorizing every bit of detail from how you clutched his jumper with a grip, your lips slightly parted as you exhale, the early morning sun shines at your back, bathing your form in a heavenly glow. Hobie moves you closer to him, as to not let the rays hit your face and disturb your peace.
He tries to move you both farther away from the edge of the bed, but he finds that your legs are intertwined with his, preventing him from moving.
He huffs, a lopsided smile on his lips. Hobie ghosts his thumb over your cheeks, the pattern from the knitted blanket leaves a mark on your skin. A sign that you've slept well, and in his arms no doubt. His forgotten comforter kicked to the foot of the bed.
He gets a whiff of your coconut shampoo, surely leaving its scent on his pillow.
He thinks about buying a proper toothbrush holder, so he could place his and yours together.
He really should invite you more.
Hobie's spidey senses wake him up from his daze– he clutches you closer to his body, carefully cradling your head. A wave from a moving boat rushes towards the houseboat, rocking it harshly. His busted alarm clock drops to the floor in a crash.
Hobie hisses as he sees you twitch. He curses whoever was in that boat.
"Ughh" you groan out, muffled against Hobie's chest. You grip his jumper tighter.
"Shit" his voice deeper than usual, you release his jumper and instead hug his torso. The waves get calmer, rocking you both softly.
"You alright?" He rubs your back just in case you feel sick.
You pop your head away from Hobie's chest, chin resting on his scratchy jumper, you tickle him a bit, but he won't tell you that of course. You open one eye to stare at him, yawning.
"Say that again?" You ask with a tilt of your head.
"Are you alright?" He hides his laugh by clearing his throat.
"Hmm" you grin "I like your morning voice"
He chuckles deeply, knowing what it does to you.
"Oh, you did that on purpose, you dork" you softly say.
"Yeah, bet it got you all hot and bothered for it too, huh" Hobie pokes your sides teasingly.
"Don't start" you swat away his hand, noticing his teasing mood this morning, you anticipate his tickling.
"You look pretty in the morning, you didn't wake up early and clean yourself up secretly, right?" He knows you didn't, sleep still sticking on your eyes, your hair looking disheveled.
"Nope, it's au naturel" you quip back. It earns a deep chuckle from Hobie.
He carefully rubs off the gunk from the corner of your eye, you sigh into his touch.
"You like my morning breath too?" He tries to blow air downwards but you're ready, you clasp your hand over his mouth, stopping his teasing.
You laugh victorious, that is until he licks your hand, recoiling your hand away, he laughs loudly.
"Hobie! That's it, I'm not making you breakfast"
"Alright, alright, I'll stop. For now" he grabs the back of your head pushing you back to his chest.
You move to the crooked of his neck instead, in case you're crushing him. You slyly wipe his drool from your hand on his jumper.
"I saw that" Hobie peeks downward.
"No, you didn't"
"This is vintage y'know"
"It's your own drool!" You laugh.
"Yeah! And you slobbered all over it while you used me as your personal pillow" he rubs the exposed skin on your waist, cupping the softness fondly.
"I don't slobber!" You grab his jaw downwards so you could look eye to eye.
"Tell that to my soaked jumper" he whispers, his eyes flickering down to your lips. Your heart skips a beat.
Knowing what he's gonna do next, you cover his lips over your hand, "let me brush my teeth first"
You push away from Hobie, your torso barely off the bed, he grabs you by the waist, pulling you back down. You gasp out.
"Nope" in one swift movement Hobie cups your cheek guiding you towards his lips, your lips crash against each other, you cringe when your forehead hits his a bit too loudly. Insecurity fills you when you remember that you still have morning breath.
He doesn't care though, instead he pokes your sides, making you gasp parting your lips, making him kiss you deeper.
You pull away breathlessly when you hear a rumbling noise underneath you.
"Ah, fuck" Hobie facepalms in embarrassment.
Hobie's stomach grumbles again, mocking him.
You grab his hand, peeking in "aww, my poor baby is hungry" you mockingly coo. "I'll make you breakfast, sunny side up right?" You push off him, finally noticing you're on the wrong side of the bed.
"Yes, please, love" he exhales out the embarrassment.
"How'd I end up on this side?" You point out.
"Huh, I probably dragged you with me"
You imagine what it might've looked like, you fluster. Even asleep he wants you near, you look at him adoringly, swiping away the sheen on his lips before leaving a kiss for good measure.
You leave for the bathroom, he stares at the door you entered in, a lovestruck expression on his face. Once he knows you're decent, he flips away the covers, following towards the sound of the faucet squeak open.
Hobie knocks, you hum while brushing your teeth. He opens the door, then leans against it, his arms relaxed on his sides, his sweatpants hang low on his hips.
He admires you bathe in white fluorescent light, his shirt on your form hanging loose on you. You looked out of place but at the same time fitting right in his tiny bathroom.
He thought you looked like you came out of an oil painting.
"You need to use the bathroom?" You ask as you place your toothbrush down.
"You should leave it"
"Leave what?"
"Your toothbrush, for next time" Hobie crosses his arms, a sudden shyness floods him.
"Of course" you smile, already getting what he's trying to say, "I was already planning on leaving it" you come forward, leaving a minty kiss on his cheek. "Your turn stinky" you pat his bum with a smack.
Hobie hears your laughter echo around the houseboat.
-
After washing up, Hobie opens the bathroom door, the smell of eggs and his favourite tea covers his senses. He chuckles to himself.
He could get used to this.
Hobie enters his modest kitchen, you hum along to the music from the radio, the inside of his houseboat looks a bit different than before, there's more light shining inside, fresh air wafts through the open windows, it seems that there's more life in his home.
He moves towards you, hugging you from behind. You giggle at the contact. He looks over your shoulder, he watches as you expertly flip the pancake over.
"Hello to you too" you crane your neck to look at him "I opened the windows, it's too nice outside. Hope you don't mind"
"I don't mind, we need the fresh air" he snuggles deeper on the crook of your neck. "Where'd you get pancake mix? I know that I don't have any"
"Ah, I brought it with me" you side glance at him, gauging his reaction.
"So, you were planning on making breakfast for me, hmm?"
"I did bring it, but it doesn't mean I was planning on cooking it myself" you turn off the stove, he turns you around, crowding you in between him and the stove.
"So you're making me breakfast out of the goodness of heart then?" He holds onto your hips.
"Yes, you're making the next one by the way"
"You're a cheeky one, aren't you?" He leans towards you, his lips ghosting over yours, but before sealing the deal, he grabs his mug behind you. He sips from it loudly, making eye contact over the mug.
You roll your eyes, trying to hide your disappointment. "You're a menace" you give him a plate of eggs, sunny side up just like how he requested it. "Make yourself useful, and set the table"
Hobie sees his kitchen counter slash dining table, that's not gonna cut it out for you. He looks out of the window, the rare sun shining over the river, fluffy white clouds blanket the sky.
It's a beautiful morning, a shame to waste it.
He pushes the door open, leading to his 'porch'
"Where are you going?" You ask curiously.
"You'll see" Hobie peeks back inside, a smirk on his face.
You shake your head at his shenanigans, you wonder what he's planning.
The water looks calm, the cold morning air nips at his skin, his jumper barely protecting him from the cold. Hobie sees the metal table wet with morning dew, that won't do, so he grabs a nearby cloth to wipe it dry, he carefully puts down the plate of eggs and his tea, to wipe at the mismatched chairs.
Hobie wipes the wooden chair more thoroughly, since the metal one looks more worn down, he's concerned you might poke yourself on it.
He looks at his handiwork, there seems to be something missing, Hobie roams his eyes around the boat, his eyes stop at an empty beer bottle, he places it in the middle of the table acting as a centerpiece.
Then he perches himself near the edge of his boat to pick a single daisy from a neighbouring houseboat's flower pot; he's sure they wouldn't notice one missing. Hobie gingerly puts the small flower inside the bottle.
You open the door with your foot a little too loudly, you squint at the harsh sound. Hobie quickly moves to help you carry out the plates and mug.
"Thanks, Hobie," you grin, your smile gets wider when you see his little set up. The little daisy swaying in the air. "Oh, handsome" you gasp out.
You're finished, your eyes slightly glazing over.
Hobie chuckles at his new nickname, he moves the wooden chair for you to sit, hands on its back, like a gentleman.
" C'mon then, stop gawking, I'm starving" he stares at your dumbstruck face, the cold air leaving goosebumps on your arms.
You sit down, smiling, forgetting the cold air.
"Do you want me to grab a jacket?" He asks as he rubs your arms from behind.
You grab his wrist, you bracelet around it with your fingers, "no, stay, I'm okay" you sniff, revealing your lie.
"Nah, I'm not letting you freeze to death, let me grab it real quick, alright?" Hobie runs inside, eager to come back to you.
Oh, he's absolutely whipped for you, no doubt about it.
You revel in the sun shining on you, closing your eyes, you inhale sharply. Hobie sees you like this, his breath hitches in his throat. You must look heavenly, a slight breeze makes your eyelashes flutter. Opening your eyes, you notice eyes on you, you smile at him.
He's done for.
Waking up from his stupor, he wraps the dark hoodie on your head. A feeble attempt to hide the effect you have on him
"And here I thought you were being sweet on me" you tease him, knowing that he actually is soft for you.
"I've got a reputation, y'know" he sits down with a metal creak.
Hobie notices that you're sitting a little bit too far for his taste. "What are you doing there? C'mere" he grabs your chair, pulling it towards him, the wooden legs scraping against the metal of the boat.
You laugh, despite the harsh sound coming from the scraping.
"There, much better?" He leans on the arms of his chair.
You nod, a permanent smile on your face "much better" you kiss his cheek, your cold lips a contrast to his warm skin, it melts into his skin, etching in like a tattoo.
You intertwine your arm around his, speaking softly, as to not disturb your little peaceful bubble around the both of you, " y'know I thought you would be grumpier in the morning"
"Why's that?" He leans closer.
"I don't know, you seem like the type" you whisper against his lips, "you're a night owl, so I thought you would hate waking up this early"
"Only if I don't sleep well" heat rises in your cheeks at his implication, "Lucky for me I've got my very own koala latching on to me last night"
You raise your eyebrow "Really a koala, that's the best you can do, Hobart?"
"You always resort to calling me by my government name whenever you're flustered, koala works, lovey" he cups your jaw, his thumb brushes past your lips. You close your eyes, leaning in.
Before your lips could meet, you hear a gurgling sound.
You pull away, laughing loudly. Hobie lets out a small goddamnit.
"We should eat, before your stomach starts eating you from the inside" you say in between laughs.
"Yeah, yeah" he grumpily grabs his spoon.
You hide your smile behind your mug.
A/N: thanks for reading! Hope you liked it, as always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️❤️❤️
*image above is from pinterest*
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You stay the night at Hobie's for the first time
Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader
Word count: 1.6k
Synopsis: You sleepover at Hobie's houseboat.
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, FLUFF, smut implied.
My Masterlist
Inspired by this post
*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*
Obsessing over the pimple on your forehead, you try to pop it in between your forefinger and thumb.
"Ughh" you grimace while staring at your reflection on Hobie's grimey mirror.
You glimpse at your form, you're wearing one of Hobie's numerous band shirts, after you accidentally spilled mouthwash on your pajama shirt, you asked to borrow one. You're giddy that you smell like him.
He joked that you spilled mouthwash on it on purpose just to wear his shirt.
"Stop it, you're gonna make it worse" Hobie says as he watches the disaster in front of him. He's lounging on his bed, arms tucked under his head. His dark jumper rides up a bit showing his toned stomach. His legs are properly tucked under the patchwork comforter.
"But it's bothering meee" you kick your legs like your throwing a tantrum.
"It doesn't even look that bad," Hobie pats the open space beside him "come to bed, lovey"
"Says the man who has clear skin even though you wash your face with the same soap you use on your body" You turn to face him, ignoring his exposed skin.
You've never seen him this relaxed before. He's a pretty laid back guy already, but this? His half-lidded eyes looking at you, paired with him in his comfortable non-spiky clothes– maybe you should come to bed.
"It's genetics, all natural, baby"
"It's actually au naturel" you cross your arms on your chest, hiding your uneven breathing.
"No, it's not"
"Yes, it is" you step forward.
"Nuh uh"
"Yea uh"
You stare at each other for a second.
"...C'mere" Hobie concedes defeat or else you would be at it all night. He takes his left arm from under him to reach towards you.
"Fine" you head towards the bed, your sea legs swaying when a small wave hits the houseboat. You crawl under the covers.
"Why are you so far, get over 'ere" he grabs the cover under you to drag you towards him, closing the already small distance. He's been waiting for this the entire day. He feels elated, he couldn't wait to finally cuddle with you,
You hoped he didn't notice the small distance you made, but alas he's a perceptive one who doesn't like admitting he likes cuddles. Truth be told, you're actually nervous spending the night with him for the first time, you're not expecting for something to happen tonight, but if something did happen you're prepared for it, kind of, sorta, maybe?
Not to mention, the houseboat is a little intimidating, like what if you get sea sick and puke all over his carpet, well you're floating on a river, but nonetheless the rocking motion could still give you motion sickness. Or what if you kick him off the bed while asleep, or you sleep walk and you fall overboard. Or what if–
Hobie pinches your nose, keeping his fingers around it. "Oi, where did you go?"
"Nuhn of yhor bhismes" you swat at his hand.
"Your eyes went glossy for a second, thought I lost you"
"I was actually thinking about your houseboat"
"And here I thought you were thinking 'bout me" he holds his arm out behind you, unsure if you're okay with the action.
Noticing his uncertainty, you swallow your shyness, you lean against his arm placing your head softly on his shoulder. Any doubt from Hobie is quickly washed away by your reaction. He pushes you closer to his warmth with the hand around your shoulder.
"What about the houseboat?" He stares at you while you play with a loose thread on his jumper.
"Like.. how'd you get it?" You absentmindedly twirl the thread around your fingers.
"Bought it off a bloke"
"That's it? No crazy or wacky story behind it?" You stare up at him suspiciously.
"Yes, there's no wacky story behind it" he mocks your word choice by copying your voice. "I needed a place, my friend's cousin's friend sold it at a cheap price. That's it, nothing madcap 'bout it"
"Hmm, Do you even know how to drive, wait no sail? Is it called sailing when it doesn't have sails? Nevermind you get what I'm talking about, do you know how to do that?" You ramble, he finds it adorable.
"Yes, how do you think I brought it here from Amsterdam?" He's now curious whether it's sail or drive.
You gasp, sitting up "See! There IS a wacky story behind it" you poke his chest playfully.
Hobie grabs your finger to stop you "There IS nothing wacky about it. Well-" he remembers something, you perk up "we had to dodge the coast guard, but that's about it"
"THE COAST GUARD?!" A huge grin blooming on your face.
"All right calm your beans" Hobie pushes your head back down lightly.
"How long did it take you to get back?" You snuggle closer to him.
"It would've just taken us 6-7 hours, but we had to hide from the coast guard so it took us about 10 hours"
"Who were you with?" You fight a yawn.
"Why? You jealous?" Hobie shakes you lightly, he wants to talk to you more.
"Why would I be jealous of your friend's cousin's friend?" You rub one of his unruly eyebrows, shaping the strands back into place.
Hobie chuckles. He wants to stay like this with you, sleep be damned.
"What do you want for breakfast?" A yawn escaping you. You situate yourself on his chest.
"You gonna cook for me?" Hobie holds on to you tighter.
"Hmm, if you're nice to me in the morning, yeah"
"What do you mean? I'm always nice to you"
"You say that as you're staring at my pimple" you start to close your eyes.
"Well, gorgeous, I'm not staring directly at it, I'm looking at you, you wear my shirt really well"
"Well, handsome," you tease him back "anything looks better when I wear it" you feel sleep taking you.
"You're right," Hobie whispers against your hair "I like my eggs sunny side up by the way"
"Hmm" a soft smile on your face.
Since you're wearing socks, with a sly smirk on Hobie's face, he slowly lifts up the leg hem of your pajama pants with his cold foot, once there's enough space, he quickly lays his ice cold foot on your leg.
"Ack! What- Hobie!" You shoot up from your position.
Hobie laughs loudly, you feel the houseboat shake lightly.
You playfully slap his chest.
"You!" Slap "Menace!" Slap
In one swift movement, he grabs your slapping hand, then he flips himself over you, his legs on your sides, caging you in.
You gasp at the weight above you, a wide smile blooming on your face.
"Hobie! You're too heavy!" Drowsiness is now completely gone.
He half kneels on your sides so he doesn't completely crush you.
"You're not allowed to sleep" Hobie leans slightly towards you, you can see his playful smirk illuminated by the moonlight.
"What do you mean I'm not allowed?! You invited me to a SLEEPOVER, you dork!" You gasp out as he's a few inches away from your face.
"Lemme guess you're the kind of person who falls asleep first in a sleepover? you're the dork here, sweets" he leans closer his lips ghosting over yours.
You close your eyes in anticipation. Instead of a kiss, you feel Hobie blow raspberries on your jaw.
"Ack! HAHAHAHAHAHA" your legs kicking up trying to stop him from tickling you.
Hobie pulls back breathlessly.
"Oh you're ticklish? Got it" he smirks devilishly. "Wonder where else you're ticklish?" Hobie tilts his head.
"No! Don't you dare, Hobart!" Your eyes widen when he winds up his arms to tickle your stomach, despite the threat you can't help but grin.
"Oh using my government name now, huh" Hobie tickles your sides relentlessly, your laughs echoing throughout the space.
"Okay! Okay! I'll stay up!" You say in between laughs.
He finally stops his attack, letting you breathe.
"Yeah?" He takes his tickling stance again.
"Yes" you giggle "please stop or I might piss my pants"
"Ooh kinky" he squeezes your cheeks together as you glare at him.
"Can you please kiss me already so we can properly cuddle like you wanted" you say with your squished lips.
Hobie chuckles "saw right through me, huh" he leans down finally giving your most awaited kiss.
He eases up from squishing your cheeks so you could kiss him back properly, you hold on to the back of his neck, grounding you.
Hobie pulls away, he stares at your wide eyes lovingly. You lift yourself up using his neck as leverage, quickly peppering his face with kisses, until he laughs with every peck.
You pull back, taking in his lovesick stricken face, his smile lopsided, eyes basically shaped like hearts. You're sure you mirror his expression.
"I should invite you more often" he lays back down next to you, arm wrapped around your torso, half of his body staying on top of you, his legs splayed over yours. Hobie relaxes immediately.
You crane your neck "yeah you should. I really love your home, babe" you rub his arm soothingly.
"Really? You're not sea sick?"
"I gotta be honest with you, I took a kwells tablet beforehand," you laugh.
"That's pretty smart" Hobie fights a yawn "you're really smart, love" he rubs the side of your neck.
"You're only saying that so I'll make you breakfast" you whisper, once you notice his eyes slowly close.
"No, you're really smart, and lovely, and a bloody good cook" he parks his head on the crook of your neck with a sigh.
You chuckle softly, pulling the covers up to his chin, you lay your head just above his.
You both fall asleep listening to each other's steady breathing with the houseboat rocking you both rhythmically.
A/n: I'm sorry that my last fic made y'all cry lmao, here's some fluff. As always thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️
*picture above is from pinterest*
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👀🤣 may I request a Christmas fic where one/both the twins see R kissing Santa Claus (but it’s actually Hobie dressed as him) and they start an all out war against Santa? Can’t stop laughing my ass off from this idea
- 😅 (@hyperfix-wip )
Hehehe thank you for the cutest prompt!! I've always wanted to write this trope 😘❤️❤️❤️
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 2k
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Dad! Hobie, mom! Reader, Billie and Ramona AU, twin AU, cw food mentions, fluff!
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ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ
Billie wakes up with a start, heart pounding in her ears from the sudden wake up call. “What—?!” Her mouth is covered by a familiar hand, silencing her yell. “Mmhm?!” Eyes wide, she hones in on her twin’s face in the dark of their shared room. Save for the light flooding inside from the cracked open door, and their Spider-Man night light, it's pitch black.
“It's me!” Ramona whisper yells, front tooth still missing after she lost it in the playground. “Someone's downstairs. I think it's him!” Her eyes shine with excitement, curls bobbing up and down as she tries to contain her giddiness.
Billie yanks her sister's hand away, frowning at her from the sudden intrusion. “I was having a good dream, Mon.” Her look reminds Mona of her dad's exact expression when he has to mow the lawn again.
Mona ignores her sister's annoyance, “didn't you hear what I said? Santa's ‘ere! At our house!” She whisper yells again, this time loud enough for whoever's downstairs to pause their movements. Her eyes widened, hands covering her mouth to tamp down her excitement. “We should stay quiet—”
“Santa's ‘ere!” Billie is quieted once again by Mona's hands.
After waiting for a minute, the girls slowly and silently go outside of their room, matching holiday socks softly walking across the polished floorboards. Their pajamas are also on theme, with Mona opting for a pink sugar plum fairy matching set, and Billie wearing the classic Santa Clause set. Both that you've lovingly made for them. They're clearly excited, especially when it comes to the big bearded man in red. Billie more especially, after you and Hobie brought them to a local mall to see Santa and for them to give them their wishlist, she's been raving about wanting to stay up to catch him in the act. But after watching home alone and having a belly full of warm milk, she went out like a light. Mona on the other hand wants to see him eat the cookies you two prepared for Santa. It's her favourite, chocolate chips with marshmallows. She's hoping that the big man would like it, especially that she gave him the batch from her personal stash.
As they walk out of the hallway and into the floors of the second floor landing, they start to crawl once they see shadows dance along the walls of the living room. The tree that the four of you lovingly put up and decorated are twinkling with the holiday lights, reds, greens and yellows blinking in and out of the room.
“Do you think they'll like it?” They hear your familiar voice, whispering downstairs.
The girls make it to the stairs that overlook the living room, they make themselves smaller by lying prone on the cold floor, tiny hands grasping at the bannisters. Their eyes widen at the sight of who you are talking to.
Right next to you is the man of the hour himself, dressed in red with a giant sack of presents right next to him. He's taller than they've expected, and slimmer. Maybe Santa's cutting back on the cookies.
Billie grabs Mona's shoulder, shaking her excitedly. They wordlessly communicate through looks, based on their happy expressions, they feel like the luckiest kids in the world. They continue to watch Santa work his magic as he places wrapped presents underneath the tree with their names written on them.
“I know they'll love ‘em. ‘sides, Mona's been askin’ for it since July.” Santa replies to you, brown eyes shining in the string lights. His eyes seem to smile at you sitting in the corner of the room, hand occupied with a warm cup of eggnog. The bottom half of Santa's face is obscured by his big white beard, but he's clearly smiling softly at you. “And Bee always wanted that moon lamp ever since she saw Gwen's.”
Beaming at jolly Nick, you leave your cup on the coffee table to walk over to him. “I know, but what if they suddenly don't want those anymore.”
Santa stretches his hand out to you, beckoning you closer as he abandons the sack of presents on the floor. “Love,” love? The girls look at eachother with furrowed brows. Only their dad calls you that, and maybe occasionally that one shop owner downtown that you always buy fabrics from. “Y’know the girls would still be happy even if we gave them a potato each.”
You come to his side without saying anything about the close proximity to the actual Santa. The girls narrow their eyes at Santa's glove hand splayed across the small of your back, thumb rubbing gently across your soft pajama shirt. Only their dad gets to hold you like that.
Chuckling, you move to half hug him, arm wrapped around his back while you place your chin atop the soft red jacket. “Why a potato?”
“Because they go wild for chips.” He looks at you through gentle eyes, nudging his forehead on top of your own, the faux fur of his hat is soft against your skin.
“That's true, maybe we should've gotten them a whole sack of potatoes instead.” Your grin has the girls worried, especially when you move closer to him that the girls would know that it would have their dad burst into tears if they ever saw the scene in front of him.
“That's why ‘m santa, lovie.”
“Mm-hmm,” now you fully embrace him. The girls share a heavy look. “Why are you in full get up again? They won't be able to see you in this, not while they're snoring away all the cookies they had.”
“I know,” he shrugs, “what if they wake up, it'll be a nice memory for ‘em.” His arm squeezes you, hand dangerously close to your behind. The twins are both pissed, standing up from their place atop the stairs. “Or, ‘m all dressed up for you, love.” Santa winks at you, and you giggle in his arms. “Give big red a kiss, yeah?” As he leans in, the twins run downstairs swiftly, yelling and screaming at him to let their mum go.
“What— girls!” You move away, arms trying to block their attacks from hitting Santa.
“Not our mum!” Billie makes it to him first, clinging herself on his leg, trying to bite him through his red pants.
“We trusted you, Santa!” Mona leaps to punch at his stomach, earning a pained groan from the bearded man.
“Mona, no!” You grab her by the armpits as she continues to flail around, trying to get another hit. Good thing you’ve gotten to her before she aimed at his crotch. “Baby, no, that's—!” You contemplate telling them the truth, but Hobie's subtle head shake has you clamping down and embracing Mona.
“Ow, fuc–fudge!” Hobie hops around the room, trying to wiggle free of Billie, who's still clutching at his leg. “Billie, stop!” The one time that his spidey senses failed him.
“I don't care if ‘m on the naughty list! You tried to kiss our mum!” She chomps down on his leg, and he yelps when her baby teeth sink into the fabric and into his leg.
Hobie has no choice but to grab Billie the same way you did with Mona. He holds her in front of him, an arm's length away, still trying to take a chunk out of him. He feels like he ruined the magic of Santa for them. Not to mention the song.
“Stop–!” Hobie holds out his hand to her to tell her that he means no harm, but she tries to bite at his finger. “Billie—!”
“Daddy!” Ramona screams out, voice echoing and rumbling the house. “Daddy, there's an– an impruder!”
You would've chuckled at her fumbled pronunciation of intruder and told her the right way to say it, but when she's on the verge of tears; the both of them are, you have to think of a solution.
“Daddy!” Billie joins in, now fully sobbing. “H–He kissed mummy!”
“I haven't! Not yet!” Hobie tries to defend himself, or Santa for that matter. But it makes the whole thing so much worse when Billie wiggles herself out of his grasp to run towards yours and Hobie's bedroom while crying for him. “Shi—!”
You meet with his eyes while embracing a crying Mona. Mouthing a ‘Go!’ He immediately knows what you're up to. Your synergy levels with him are off the charts.
He leaves through the window, snow crunching underneath him and almost freezing him in the spot. He slowly rips off the Santa outfit one by one whilst he makes his way towards the back of the house. Shedding the beard and tossing it haphazardly in the backyard, he crawls on the wall, finally making it to the bedroom window just as when Billie opens the door with a loud creak.
Feigning naiveté, he acts shocked at her weeping as he opens his arms to her. “What happened?” She sobs on his sleep shirt, drenching it with tears. As Hobie pats her back, he realises that he's still wearing the gloves which he promptly throws away and under the bed before she could see it. “C’mon, mac, tell dad.” He cups her wet cheeks, trying to calm his little girl down.
“I saw mummy kissing Santa Claus!”
Hearing Mona's cry in the doorway with you carrying her, he knows that you two have a long night ahead of you.
—
“Are you sure you want to change pajamas, Billie? You said it's your favourite. The red suits you—” You try to placate her with a plate of chocolate pancakes.
“Yes.” She says so surely with her arms crossed over her chest, still fuming. “I hate Santa.”
Hobie's sitting right next to Mona, hand rubbing along her back whilst she stares angrily at the empty plate of cookies she left for Santa sitting on the counter. “Me too.” She huffs, stabbing her pancakes with a fork.
You share a look with Hobie, hoping that he has any idea how to calm them down. Hugging Billie seems to tamp down her anger, but she still looks at you with furrowed brows after you've apologized profusely.
“Why did you kiss, Santa?” She asked a few hours ago, stomping her little foot down on your bedroom floor, while her sister followed her lead.
“I didn't!” You stared at Hobie right next to you on the bed, looking like he's about to burst into laughter but is keeping it in. “And I wasn't gonna!”
After that whole ordeal, they seem to simmer down to a silent anger that still reverberates through the house. Maybe opening the presents earlier would make them forget it and make them smile.
“We should make signs, Bee! Like what dad makes so Santa knows not to come back ‘ere!” Mona lights up, you finally got a smile out of her.
“That's brilliant!” Hobie plays along, and Billie agrees with rapid nodding that you had to stop with your hand on her forehead before she breaks something. “I'll get my supplies, you two go finish your pancakes, yeah?” Just as he says it, they scarf down the pancakes, prompting Hobie to grab your hand and speed walk away from the kitchen.
Once the two of you are out of earshot and their sights, he corners you against a wall, hands cradling your cheeks, and sighing as he relaxes atop you.
You laugh against his hair, pressing lazy kisses on his hairline. “Don't forget to grab the outfit outside, Hobie. I made that to tailor you and you only.”
He lifts his head up from your chest, cheeks puffed out from sleepiness. Blowing out air, you giggle at him as he flutters your lashes. “I know, love.” His eyes roam all over your face, looking at every curve and dip until he stops at your lips. “I still haven't gotten my answer.”
“Or what? You'll put me on the naughty list?”
Hobie leans closer, lips brushing along your waiting lips. “Lovie, you're on my list every year.”
“I hope I'm the only one on it.” You say, wordlessly inviting him for a kiss by pecking his jaw softly.
“You and you only.” With a chuckle atop your lips, he kisses you under the mistletoe he subtly put up with the sole purpose of kissing you underneath it.
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x. bonnet

a/n: lost my bonnet (rip to my braids) and it inspired me
*a lil sum from my drafts while i force this christmas fic into existence and slooowly chip away at these reqs 😪 and i have since found it if you are wondering
warnings/tags: black!gn!reader, bonnet can be switched out for a durag, silk scarf, etc i js didnt know how to type that lol, ekko's kinda sassy 🤔, bickering but not arguing, fluff...question mark, what is this kind of thing called, rochelle and julius from everybody hates chris kinda relationship, shitty ending idc wrote this at 1am with a t-shirt on my head,
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a cabinet door slams shut a few rooms over from ekko's workbench, his body jolting at the suddenness of the sound.
"where is this bonnet!?" you shout, clad in your nighttime attire of a t-shirt and sweatpants. this isn't a question new to ekko, you have this problem once every couple of months.
to say you were tired was an understatement. but you'd be damned if you spent hours in that chair getting your hair done just to have it get messed up in one night just because you couldn't protect it. and you've been searching for this thing for 30 whole minutes.
your footsteps stomped around the place, items clattering as you toss them around in wild abandonment in search of this godforsaken bonnet.
"did you check the bathroom?" ekko calls, raising his glass of water to your lips as you pace by his room.
"yes! three times. and even then, i never leave it in there, i always leave it in the same—" a pillow gets thrown off of your bed. nothing. "—exact—" you toss the sheets up. nothing. "—place. i don't get it!"
"then i don't know, baby."
"well, i know i didn't just grow two legs and walk on up out of here!"
ekko scoffs, making a weak attempt at showing empathy. "you have so many bonnets, just wear a different one."
"i can't. that's the only one that doesn't fly off my head while i'm sleeping."
he's amazed at your ability to be so stubborn at the smallest situation. to him, this is nothing but a 'throw something else on your head and call it a day' type of solution.
"can you check your workroom?"
"do you sleep in my workroom?" words full of sarcasm that make your brows somehow furrow even deeper.
"ekko, don't get smart with me."
he sighs, making a half hearted peek around his area. nothing. a shrug. "nothing here."
you keep searching around, looking in the most nonsensical areas for this piece of fabric. under the kitchen sink, IN the kitchen sink, in the shower, in your shoes, ekko's laundry basket, nothing.
you're beginning to just accept defeat, sighing in frustration as you trudge your way back to bed. you pass by ekko's workroom, eyes peeking between the small crack in the door.
pink satin.
atop ekko's head.
"i know you fuckin' lying—"
you swing open the door, snatching it off of his head. white locs fall loose, framing his face. your hand clutches your hip as you wave the bonnet in his face. "ekko, what is this?" you interrogated, an obvious rhetorical question that he didn't have an answer to.
ekko bares his teeth, shoulders pulling into a shrug. he completely forgot that he just...threw it on his head a few hours ago before he started working since he couldn't find a hair tie. "...damn, how'd that get there?"
you close your eyes. two deep breaths. in, out. in out. the second one steadier than the first.
now, usually you were very patient. you understood; things happen. but this? this was your breaking point for the week.
your fingers find the shell of his ear. the sting shoots through the cartilage, skin at his temple pulled taut. he's wincing, sucking air in through his teeth.
"it's like you're trying to test me, huh?
"baby, i'm sorry—" he unintentionally tries giving you his signature puppy-dog eyes. you only tug harder.
"sorry does not cut it. i've been looking for this for 30 minutes, 30! i'm tired as hell, i'm tryna sleep, and here you are playing like shit is sweet!"
...ekko didn't touch that bonnet after that.
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Before you go
Hobie's a real tactile guy, I'm sure he kisses his friends a lot (even if kissing through the mask is more just smooshing your faces together)
Like the last one, I drew this as platonic but you can read it as romantic if you want
Ider what the articles on hobie are this time so that's a fun little game you can play
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