#hobie brown x gender neutral reader

[hanasnx]

knuckle up

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: gn!reader | dom!hobie | kinks: size | breathplay: choking | finger sucking

HOBIE BROWN's got big hands. For a guy his size it's natural to have, and you're fixated on them. You're entranced when he ropes his webbing around his palm; how his nimble fingers traverse the neck of his guitar; and you become weak when he puts them on you. Even a touch as simple as a stroke of his knuckles against your cheek elicits a whimper out of you. "You like that, eh?" he murmurs with amusement, tenderly cupping your cheek as you lean into it. Experimentally, his hand slides over until the pad of his thumb can stroke your jaw on the other side, tucking the webbing under your chin. It involuntarily pouts your lips, and he knows you're putty in his hold. He steals a kiss from your pliant mouth by inclining you towards him. So tall you have to stand on the tips of your toes to comply.

"Aren't you a pretty thing? Bein' so sweet f'me." he croons, yet it's said to call attention to how uncharacteristically agreeable you're being.

You squeeze your eyes shut as your delicate countenance skews. "Don't make fun of me."

"D'aw," he sympathizes in a feigned manner. "Wouldn't dream of it, bug." His thumb strokes at your skin, and you suck in a breath. "I like you like this." Curiously, his grip slacks to travel down until your larynx is against his palm. He idles, giving you time to expect it before his hand stretches around and flush against you. Your throat is enclosed in his grasp, your veins lovingly and expertly squeezed. In a merciful moment, he lets your feet relax, landing flat onto the ground as he raises his free hand to you. You keep your eyes closed, focusing on your heart beat, hearing your breathing. The pads of two fingers tap at your mouth, and obediently you part your lips, allowing him access inside. Eager tongue welcomes them by cupping them while your lips form around the first knuckle, until he pushes further in. Long fingers, long fucking fingers sliding over your tongue, narrowly avoiding your gag reflex as he pumps them in and out only halfway. You feel his grip around your neck tighten marginally, his own arousal getting to him as he makes you suck his fingers.

[badchoicesworld]

Heyyyy I really love ur writing! And also kind of ur vibe as a person 😳 but anyway!

Since you said we can be specific, I wanted to ask about Hobie getting a just a little bit flustered when receiving genuine heartfelt compliments and affection through words bc it catches him off guard. He'd also find the reader a bit naive at first only to find out that they're actually incredibly cunning and calculated. They just come across as naive bc they're so ridiculously sweet once they trust someone :3 (and it always looks like they trust quickly bc they have insane psychoanalytic abilities but now I'm rambling;;; (⁠´⁠⊙⁠ω⁠⊙⁠`⁠)! )

Hope this isn't too much ^^"

hobie realises you’re not as naive as he thought

hobie brown x gn!reader

omggg 😳 tyy anonnnn you got me blushing n shit 🤭 but no fr, ty that’s so sweet lmao <33 and no, this was perfect, ily

warnings: none

pairing: hobie brown x gn!reader

requests: masterlist plz

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

on first inspection, to hobie, you appear to be this person that trusts way too easily and immediately treats people way too kind for a person you just met- you seem clueless and completely naive when it comes to putting your trust in others since you’re so quick to do it

hobie doesn’t think it’s a bad trait at all to be inherently kind, but when you’re kind to literally everyone you immediately deem trustworthy, it’s like you’re looking to get hurt

he might occasionally have one of his rants to you about the ins and outs of the “real world”, propaganda that surrounds you, distracting you from the truth, the sharks at the top of it all, the people that would take advantage of you

there’s no ill intent, he just really thinks you’re gonna get hurt like that

and who wants that ?

so yeah, anyway, when he first meets you, he can basically see the switch once you’ve realised he’s trust worthy

you’re the sweetest person ever without prompt, and it admittedly looks like nativity to him at first

but because you now trust him, it means you’ll be a sweetheart to him

at first, it’s small compliments that he can appreciate- maybe something about his style or rebellious attitude that he’s heard all before

but you suddenly amp it up for no reason one day and it just completely turns the tides

if you’re aware of his secret identity, you change his perception of you completely when you basically soul read him

you manage to craft the most heartfelt, genuine, sincere acknowledgement of the sacrifices he’s made, along with genuine thanks and somehow stating the closest interpretation of his emotions that he’s ever heard before. from someone that isn’t him, anyway

hell, you’ve maybe even just helped him realise a few things about himself

he’s fucking gobsmacked

he stares at you as if you’ve just said the most outrageous but enlightening thing ever to be uttered

slack jawed, eyes wide, completely silenced for a solid while

he’s eventually able to process wtf you just said to him, and now he’s just trying to play it off with a really goofy grin that doesn’t hide he’s flustered

hobie’s doing all sorts with his hands to try distract the both of you- gestures while he tried to defend the little of his pride he has left, holding the back of his neck, maybe nudging you or shaking your whole frame

he gets the faintest idea that you might be just a little less naive than he though, but not entirely

that might have just been a lucky guess, after all

you’re definitely smarter in his eyes, though

depending on your status, if you’re a spider-person, from a different dimension, from his dimension- it doesn’t matter, he’s intrigued by you now

might brag a bit or be like “can you believe this?” when he sees you soul reading someone else

now there’s been multiple times throughout your guys’ friendship where you manage to slap him with some ungodly wisdom relating to him out of absolutely nowhere, and it never fails to catch him off guard

of course, hobie’s effortlessly cool, so being caught off guard is gonna keep making him feel a little vulnerable and flustered

especially when you just casually do one of the most in depth psychoanalysis of him ever for like the third time this week

he’s starting to think that you know something the rest of the multiverse doesn’t, how do you do that ?

“alright, alright! allow it, man, allow it.”

he’s laughing, but he’s also questioning where you stand in the world, are you secret intelligence ? tf is goin on

if you weaponise this ability to read people like an open book, then he can have fun with it

now it’s funny

especially if you guys are spider-people together and he just casually points out a villain you’ve been assigned to, with a look that says “ruin them”

this can also happen to random people on the street

it’s like how he can completely destroy peoples perception and faith in the establishment n all that, if you so choose, you can really make people feel seen or completely vulnerable or called out

after these encounters with bad people, he realises something about you

you’re somehow able to just know who to trust, and your guts never wrong

he wonders if it’s your spider-sense at first, if you have that

now he’s starting to piece everything together

you can easily distinguish between the good and bad people- the good you immediately trust and treat like an old friend

the bad, you never give the time of day

you’re always so quick to trust, and naive

but it’s starting to become clear to hobie that this isn’t nativity, you just have an uncanny ability to know people before they even introduce themselves

it’s kind of reassuring in a way, if he’s ever doubtful about someone, he’ll go to you and be like “thoughts?” then you can relay this insanely detailed psychoanalysis of this person you’ve just met

now he sees you as this incredibly insightful person, a lovely individual who has the potential to ruin lives with your insane ability to call people out

bonus:

if you guys are spider-people together, you’re both pretty well known for running your mouths

you instil fear

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

as always, lemme know if this ate or not and i’ll try my best to fix it !

[jgrills]

London artists.png

──★ Hobie w/ a artist reader 💭

Includes: a fic, fluff, maybe a kiss or two..?? trying a different writing style! Gn reader as always.

extras: Hi!! I'm back to writing again after a break! Hope u guys are taking care of yourselves! <33

Reader can see Hobie's border!

Your hands glide the paintbrush across the canvas, putting gentle pressure on the brush, the handle illuminates off the gentle London sun, the intricate patterns of your handmade paintbrush please your eyes, thanks to Hobie's handiwork. Grabbing some more paint, you squeeze the bottle, and some acrylic paint pours out of it onto the small white palette.

You were in a whole different world, just focusing on your painting, painting all types of different strokes and techniques on the canvas. The music in your ears copies your hand movements.

"Hobie, can you stop changing your border, it's distracting me." You huff, looking away from the canvas to see that his border, now a light steel blue color, with some newspaper titles about art.

"Nah" He snickers mischievously, changing his seating position, and changing his border into a calm pink with some white cut out stars.

You groan, painting his border again, not realizing you have created a nice gradient of colors on the canvas.

The room was full of silence, the sound of painting strokes, the gentle waves of the water against the boat, and the birds chirping gently nearby. Deciding to take a break, you gently set down your palette and paint, lounging on the couch by the window, enjoying the warm sun. Looking at your canvas again, you realize that the portrait of Hobie looked better when you took a step back. The normal gray color transitioning into a calm pink shade, the sunlight making some of the paint sparkle in the reflection.

"I look great" his voice cuts you out of your thoughts, feeling him standing beside you, his border changing to match the colors in the painting. Your eyes move from the painting to him, just admiring his gaze on the artwork, but mostly his face. Just admiring how handsome he is, unable to tear your eyes from him. You had looked at him plenty of times, but tonight it was different, just adoring his face, his eyes, everything about him, he didn't have his piercings on, but he was handsome nonetheless.

"You look amazing" You mutter in a dreamlike trance, finally being able to tear your eyes away from him.

"Of course I do" He snickers, giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead. "What's with all the stares today?" He asks, putting an arm around your shoulder, staring at you with warm heterochromic eyes.

"Just admiring how handsome you are" You utter, looking him in the eyes. "Well..thank you." He says, his cheeks turning the slightest bit darker at your compliment.

The sun was on its way to slumber, the beautiful yellow, orange, purple and light pink reflected off of the clouds, making them seem like mirrors. As every structure starts to slowly glow as the sun goes down. Hobie decided to hang up the drawing on one of the walls by the canal windows, the painting not moving as the canal slowly sways on the dock. The sound of Hobie's soft snores echoes in the room, him gently spooning you, his hands on your waist, moving sometimes to get even closer to you while napping.

Looking at his peaceful face, you get in that dreamlike state again, just admiring that he can relax, even sleep near you. Hobie letting his guard down enough for you just warms your heart.

You'll never forget those uncommon moments with him.

🌾 @chessbox, hope you enjoyed this one ! Reblogs and feedback are appreciated (just don't be rude about it). 🧺

(˵ •̀ ᴗ •́ ˵ ) ✧

[pixiexdusts-world]

Incorrect quote

Hobie: Tell Miles about the birds and the bees.

Y/n: They’re disappearing at an alarming rate.

[guywithn0name]

DROP THEM HOBIE BROWN X M!READER HEADCANONS HOMIE!! 😼

-Headcannons-

;Hobie Brown

Hobie Brown x Male reader

🎸 | Main Masterlist | 🎸

🕸 | Spider-Man: spider-verse Masterlist | 🕸

YESSIR😼😼 can y’all tell I ran out of titles? incase you didn’t, I ran out of titles. I have so many exams and test this month so I’m gonna be more inactive :,( also, do y’all like the new title style?? ^^

Warnings: none

- Two words about Hobie. Nail biter. He 100% bites his nails without even noticing. He usually has on nail polish, but it’s always chipped since he keeps biting his nails. But he can’t be bothered to fix up his nails every time he bites on them, it happens so often

- Hobie lets you put random things like ribbons in his hair when y’all are having fun together.

- He’d let you do the whole skincare routine on him. Face mask, oils and everything, even with the little headband thingy on.

-Has like at least five songs secretly written about you somewhere hidden at his place. He’ll never tell you about them, and if he does he’ll definitely never tell you where the songs are hidden.

-Hobie is actually super gentle if you ever ask for him to paint your nails, he’d be the carefullest guy ever about it. He’d also choose the best colours if you let him or he’ll choose the silliest colours. No in between.

- He has tried a surprising amount of different energy drinks, like monster, red bull, Gatorade, Mountain Dew and ect. He also always has at least one energy drink at home.

[moralesmilesanhour]

my neighbor's a punk

summary: you move into a new apartment with a noisy neighbor. inspired by this prompt list! wc: 922 A/N: just wrote this for some practice. I'm getting better at writing longer drabbles, I think! As always feel free to reblog and leave your reactions in the tags or comments. As of the date this is being posted, my requests are also open! (pls check my pinned beforehand)

You had never seen a garden so beautiful.

Vibrant blossoms of yellow and orange greeted you as you hauled two medium-sized boxes carrying the last of your things through the entrance of your new apartment. Their fragrance wafted through the humid summer air, delighting you and confirming that they were, in fact, real. But for the past couple of days that you had been in the process of moving in, you’d never once spotted a gardener or seen the sprinklers turn on. Curious.

The modest apartment had only a couch to occupy the living room, which was currently still dotted with cardboard boxes. A freshly-ironed shirt and work pants lay neatly folded on top of one. You stepped over a few to get to the kitchen, where various unopened appliances were strewn about the counter. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, you made a note to finally put everything away in the cupboards tomorrow evening after work.

No TV meant your only sources of entertainment for the time being were your phone and your laptop. It was now evening, and you were slouched on your sofa in the midst of a harrowing ‘Game of Thrones’ episode when a violent guitar riff ripped through the air and made you jump.

These thin-ass walls…

Whoever was playing (very well, you might add) seemed to be next door, so it didn’t take long to follow the sound to the correct number. You knocked impatiently and rang the doorbell too, for good measure. It took a minute for the music to come to a halt before the sound of heavy footsteps approached the door and you heard it unlock.

Once the door creaked open, you weren’t sure where to look first.

Your eyes darted back and forth between the array of piercings on your neighbor’s face and dangling from his ears, the wicks styled to shoot out from his head like an explosion, and his bright red plaid pants before landing on a pair of large eyes set deeply within a dark, angular face.

Judging by the way his pierced brow quirked up in amusement, you weren’t the first to give him a weird look, and wouldn’t be the last.

You remembered how to speak.

“Oh, um- hey,” you began, “I live next door, and I heard you playing–”

The young man’s face lights up and he interrupts, “Oh, d’you like it? It’s a song I’ve been workin’ on for the past few weeks. Finally got the bridge down.”

You blinked. 

“I mean…it’s not bad. It’s great, even, but–”

“Say, I haven’t seen you around before,” he pointed. “You new here?”

The man spoke with a strong Cockney accent, you noticed, with a tinge of something else that made a couple of vowels run together.

“...Yes, I moved in two days ago,” you sighed. “Now that that’s out of the way, I was about to ask if you could maybe play a lil’ quieter? You’re very loud.”

The realization seemed to dawn on him that you weren’t here to applaud his sick guitar riffs, and he winced. You almost felt bad for disappointing him, but you had a show to binge.

“Ah shit, my fault. Got too used to playing on full volume after the last neighbor moved out,” With a hand placed over his chest, he promised, “Won’t happen again.”

You nodded with a tight smile. 

“Thanks. Goodnight,” you said as you turned to leave.

The next few days were quieter, though you could still hear the neighbor’s guitar through the walls at a much more manageable volume. Sometimes you would hear the man humming to himself in his baritone voice. Eventually, you were so used to it that you found yourself falling asleep to the sound.

One Saturday morning, though, you awoke to the peculiar sound of silence. Normally by now you’d be hearing the first few chords of…whatever the guy was working on, then he’d reach the end by mid-afternoon. Part of you wanted to check up on him, but reason held you back; you’d only spoken to him once. Maybe he was just taking an off day.

Unable to return to sleep, you decided to shower and take a walk outside while the air was still comfortably cool.

As soon as the early morning sun hit your face, a familiar head of hair came into view.

There stood your neighbor–band t-shirt and all–in the garden in front of the apartment. Watering the flowers.

Mystery solved.

“So you’re the reason the plants haven’t died yet,” you laughed, causing his head to snap up.

He grinned, and lifted his watering can proudly. “Sure am. Bring some color into the place.”

“I thought it was awful quiet around here,” you remarked. You toyed with the hem of your t-shirt. “How’s the, uh…song going?”

Something between delight and surprise graced his features and made him look boyish. 

He smiled, revealing a crooked front tooth as he replied, “Almost done with it, actually.”

There was silence for a beat, and the both of you shifted awkwardly where you stood. 

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off. 

“Mind playing it for me when you’re done?”

The tall man seemed about ready to run laps around the block at the suggestion.

Quickly setting his watering can down, he replied, “Thought you’d never ask, mate!”

He jogged his way around the perimeter of the garden and over to you. “Can I get your name while we’re at it?”

“Y/N.” You stuck out your hand, and he shook it.

“Hobie.”

[junewritesstuff]

watching movies w/ hobie!! ✧.*

pairing: hobie brown x gn!reader

cw/tws: none!

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

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

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

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

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

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

[70spunkstars]

It’s really late and instead of sleeping or getting work done I’m daydreaming about a tired Hobie.

Just imagining him slipping into your shared room from the window after a long night of patrolling- of course you was up waiting for him (probably drawing or binging on Netflix) and he just flops onto the floor in front of you just EXHAUSTED. He don’t even say nothing he jus groans and you can’t help but laugh and help him shed his layers before searching him from head to toe for injuries and leading his sleepy ass into the bathroom then into the shower. Him layin in the bed while you try to finish an art piece but the more you ignore his groaning and whining the louder he gets until you finally cave (because how could you say no to him 😒) and join him in the bed. He’d probably mumble about how tired he is and how much he’d missed you then promptly shut his eyes and fall asleep after an “I missed you too” and forehead kiss 🤭

Written at 12:34 am and published at 4:26 pm

[l0starl]

“ You made something for me? How sweet “ — 𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧

　♱　 𓂃 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — Baking brownies for hobie! Valentine’s edition

♱ ˖ ࣪ ˒ 𝐀/𝐧 — This took me to long 😭 I’ve been scrapping ideas sm, but I love this a lot. THIS IS NOT WRITTEN IN HIS ACCENT

♱ ˖ ࣪ ˒ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — @hobiebrownismygod @daydreaming-en-pointe @imjustagirlintheworld777 @deluxary @lauryn2558 @imacollasaltitan

“Pretty sure we messed up the recipe….” Trisha winced at the sight of the oddly shaped brownies sitting in the pan right before her. “It’s too gooey, did we add enough flour?” She questioned, turning her head over to you.

“Well it was your job to stir the batter! Maybe we left the the butter out a little too long?” You stared at the pan, lifting a brownie slightly, as the bottom of it sticked to the pan. “This is a disaster! Do you think we have time to make another batch?”

Trisha grabs the mix from the counter and examines what’s inside the box “Nope, we might have to go to the store.”

“But we don’t have time for that!! Hobie’s coming home soon!” You frowned, staring at the oddly shaped brownies on the pan. Trisha noticed your frustration and sighed in defeat “Well maybe it’s the thought that counts? It doesn’t have to be perfect, if he knows you made it with love then maybe it’ll be all worth it in the end”

“I guess…gooey brownies can’t be that bad right..?” You questioned, skeptical whether or not the brownies were worth eating

“We can always taste test it, plus I’m hungry from all this work!” Trisha beamed with excitement. “You’re always hungry!” You smiled “Im surprised you still have all this energy”

“Yeah yeah, let’s hurry up before he gets home” Trisha nagged, She grabbed a brownie and broke it in half, handing one of the sides to you. Before you could even look at her, she already consumed it.

“Well the brownies aren’t that gooey, so they still taste pretty good!” She cheered, she extended her hand to grab another one but you smacked her hand away “These aren’t yours to eat Trisha!” You groaned

“ok ok, you didn’t have to smack my hand that hard!”

“I didn’t even hit you that hard!”

“Yes you did!”

“No!”

“Ye-“

The door creaked open as heavy footsteps entered, you both looked at each other in panic

“Go get the brownies on a plate, I’ll distract him for a bit!” You instructed as you approached the hall from where he stood

“Hey hobes! How was band practice?” You smiled, giving him a quick peck on the cheek

“It was really good, how’ve you been?” He questioned, returning the peck of your cheek

“I’ve been pretty good, I made you something for valentines!” You beamed proudly as you lead him to the kitchen, one the counter were a plate full of brownies “Tada!” You cheered

“Aw, ya know you didn’t have to make me anything” he chuckled, amused at your excitement

“Well I wanted to, since you do a lot of things for me” you replied “Happy Valentine’s Day hobie!”

For the rest of the day, you both spent time together, from a date, a theme park and so on!

Happy Valentine’s Day :D

— From Ari

[daisies-daydreams]

Hi, can I request Hobie x plus size gn!reader comfort w/ some fluff? Reader who grew up with family restricting their access to specific food by hiding or not buying certain things and has trauma related to that? (fueled by fatphobia? sorry if too specific) Goes into the kitchen in their shared living space with Hobie to find no butter in the fridge and starts panicking and crying because even if it's illogical maybe Hobie hid it or didn't get any on purpose like family did? Hobie ofc comforts and reassures that he'd never take food away from you or get mad at you or judge you for what you eat and offers to buy some butter later but just spends time holding reader and giving forehead kisses and maybe offering to cook reader's favorite food or comfort food?

Sorry if this idea is too specific or uncomfy! It's been a rough week. Love your fics regardless and your writing is wonderful. Hope you have a great year <3

What I See (Hobie Brown x Plus Sized!GN!Reader)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Plus Sized!GN!Reader) Category: Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Depictions of Panic Attacks, Mentions of Fatphobia/Fatshaming, Body Insecurity Word Count: 1.2k+ A/N: Hello dear! I’m so sorry you’ve been having a rough time. I hope this week has been much better to you and I hope you have a great year as well. ☀️

You frantically scrambled through the contents of your fridge for what felt like the millionth time. You had a craving for grilled cheese a little while ago, making your way to the kitchen to gather the ingredients…only to find the butter missing in your fridge.

“You’re probably better off without it,” a family member’s voice sneered inside your mind. Your throat tightened as your heart began to pound inside your ears.

“You should eat something healthier anyway - what man would want someone who looks like you?” another voice scoffed. You squeezed your eyes shut as you slammed the fridge door shut and shook your head.

The horrific memories of your past came flooding into your mind like a violent tidal wave. The snarky comments, the hidden food, the restrictions you had to go through during holidays or family gatherings…even on your birthday. You desperately tried to shove the thoughts away as you paced into your living room, your body trembling as you sniffed.

Your heart nearly stopped when a thought crossed your mind.

What if…Hobie hid the butter from you?

You berated yourself for thinking such a thing…and yet the more you tried to deny it, the louder the voice became. You slowly sank onto the couch as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your body feeling heavier with each passing second as tears rolled down your puffy cheeks.

“You’ve been eating a lot more lately - of course he’d want to hide it from you,” the first voice spat. You cried as you threaded your fingers through your hair.

“You really think he’d want to be with a pig like you? Always stuffing their face?” another hissed venomously.

“Stop it,” you sobbed as your body tensed and heart burned with a dull, heavy ache. So many other horrible thoughts began to snowball.

What if he didn’t want you anymore?

Did he find you ugly now? A pig, a loser? Someone who lacked self-control?

Why would he hide things from you? After all this time-

You gasped as you felt someone place their hand on your shoulder. You whipped your head around, your eyes widening when you saw Hobie frown and tilt his head down.

“Lovie?” he murmured as he furrowed his brows. You sniffed and shifted your gaze towards your lap, shame burning deep within the pit of your stomach and consuming you like a wildfire.

“I-I’m sorry if I woke you up,” you cried and wiped at your red, puffy eyes. Your lover cooed as he slid onto the couch beside you. Your heart skipped a beat as he wrapped one of his lanky arms around your shoulder and pulled you close.

“It’s alright, hun,” he said with a warm look in his eyes. You felt a lump swell in your throat as he held you close, his heart beating steadily against your ear as you rested against his chest. “Wanna talk about it?” Hobie asked while playing with a loose string on your hoodie. You sighed as you closed your eyes.

“I…It's stupid,” you muttered. Hobie hummed and gingerly rubbed your arm.

“Hey, whatever you have to say, I’m here for you,” he said gently. You timidly glanced into his eyes before you took a deep breath.

"Hobie...did you - did you hide the butter from me?" you said hesitantly. A suffocating silence lingered in the air as the space between his brows creased even more.

"'Course not," he finally replied. You sighed with relief and sank into the couch cushions. "Can I ask why? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," your boyfriend said. You opened your eyes as a bitter taste remained in your mouth. Your face contorted into different expressions as you debated with yourself on whether or not you would share. You eventually sat up straight as you gazed into his two deep pools of hickory.

"It's just...growing up, my family would often hide food from me in order to make me look 'more appealing'," your throat tightened as you recalled the awful memories. Hobie remained by your side as you continued. "And they would always remind me of what a failure I was if I gained even a little bit of weight," you curled your fists against the fabric of your pants as you sucked in a sharp breath. "I just...I'm sorry I never told you," you frowned. You gasped when Hobie suddenly pulled you into a tight embrace, his chin resting on top of your head as your face nuzzled into his chest.

"It's okay, hun. 'm not mad at you for not tellin' me," Hobie reassured you. You sniffed as more hot tears soaked through his ripped, black t-shirt. Your love rubbed his large palms up and down your back as you wept. It felt like hours before you finally felt relaxed enough to pull back. Hobie smiled and cupped your face before gently pecking your forehead.

"(Y/N)...I promise that I would never hide any food from you," your boyfriend stated. Your heart fluttered at his affirmation as he peppered your forehead with a few more kisses while smoothing his thumb over your knuckles. He sighed and rested his forehead against yours. "No matter what shape or size you are, you'll always be gorgeous to me," Hobie whispered as he rested your palm over his chest. Your eyes softened as you felt his heartbeat gently thrum beneath your hand.

He chuckled softly as you leaned forward and rested your lips against his. Hobie let his hands fall on our hips as you soaked in the feeling of his warm lips against your own. You smiled softly as you pulled back.

"Thank you...so, so much," you grinned as your eyes glossed over. Your love reflected your smile as he smoothed his fingers against your cheek.

"Welcome, doll," he beamed with a half-lidded gaze. Your cheeks flushed with warmth as he took your hand and grazed his lips over your knuckles. You giggled as he began to kiss up your arm before nuzzling his cheek against the side of your palm. "How 'bout I buy you some butter on my next trip to the store, yeah?" Hobie offered with a lopsided grin. You swore your love for this man grew with every word that fell from his lips.

"That sounds nice," you said with a sheepish smile. He grinned back and sighed as he squeezed your hand in his. You knitted your brows as Hobie slowly rose to his feet, a calm grin on his face as he gave you a warm glance.

"Good. Now in the meantime...I'll just have to make do and make your favorite food," he said with a shrug. You parted your lips as your eyes lit up.

"Oh baby, you don't need to do that," you flushed. Hobie clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"Afraid I have to. I'm obligated as your loving (and devastatingly handsome) boyfriend to pamper you," he said as he wiggled his brows. You couldn't help but laugh at his antics.

"Well, since you're insisting," you said while playfully rolling your eyes. Hobie chuckled before he squeezed your hand.

"Be right back," he winked again before slipping into the kitchen. You smiled as you watched your love shuffle around, his lithe form dancing around the room as he prepared your favorite dish. You sank back into the couch as your heart swelled with pure joy.

You finally felt like you were home.

————

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Taglist: @maybethatfanfictionwriter @depressesoespressorat @yuhhtricki999 @lavenderbabu @thedevax @famouscattale @spktrgantenk @zombieblogx @mrswhitethornbelikov @migueloharastruelove @galaxy-dusk @samanthashadowriley @theloneshadow24 @xxkay15xx @inspace1 @manlikemilesmyguy @ghostslynx @synamonthy @oharasfilipinawife @scaleniusrm @jotarossshark @acotarobbsessed @8xbygirl @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @lyrasdrawer @rinverse

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[autismnation]

Riot

Summary: There’s barely any fics of Hobie doing punk things even though he’s punk so here—you meet Hobie at a riot and get along instantly.

Pairing: Gender Neutral Reader x Hobie Brown

Warnings: Anarchist reader. Talks of politics and discrimination and fascism. Mentions of blood + mentions of injury (not detailed). Mentions of a riot (not detailed). Can be read as platonic or romantic. Gender neutral reader with no y/n. 2nd person POV. Hobie might be OOC because I haven’t read all of his comics yet. Fluff (I guess?). Little bit of angst. Hurt/comfort (I think?). I’m British but might have used Brit slang incorrectly (I just typed down every slang word I’ve ever heard to be honest). I projected my views in this fic so if you don’t agree then sorry not sorry don’t complain lol.

Words: 1.6k

Flames engulfed the sky, cars overturned, windows smashed. People screamed as they fled through the streets, dodging tear gas and riot police.

You could barely manage to find refuge in a nearby alley, sinking against the wall as you stared at the cut on your leg. It wasn’t too deep but it was oozing blood at a constant rate. You thought you were on your own until you noticed someone walking toward you.

“Let me ‘ave a look at that,” the man said when he was close enough, a black bandana covering his face.

Startled by his words, you tried to shuffle backward and get away from him, but your injured leg made it hard.

“Get away from me,” you demanded, your voice firm.

You didn’t know the man, and due to the darkness, you couldn't see anything about him. You didn't know if he was a cop, a fellow protestor, or someone involved with neither. Either way, you were afraid to find out.

“Relax, mate,” the man said, his voice calm. Even though his face was obscured, you could hear the friendly smile in his voice. He had a tall and lanky appearance, opposite the muscular cops who would abuse anyone given the chance.

“Just want to help. If I was a cop, would I be wearin’ this?” He gestured to his bandana covering his face. “The fuzz don’t wear these, do they?”

You furrowed your brow at his words and leaned against the wall behind you, resting your head against it. He made sense. Didn’t mean you trusted him, but the pain in your leg was intensifying with each passing moment.

“I guess not, unless they’re undercover,” you said, then shook your head. “But I don’t care anymore, just help me.”

“That’s what I’m ‘ere for,” the man said, hooking his arm around yours and pulling you to your feet. “But we gotta get outta here. Now.”

Before you could process his words, he dragged you through the streets, sprinting and rushing through alleyways, remaining vigilant for any sign of cops.

Luckily, there were none. None chasing after you.

Suddenly, the man pushed you in front of him, guiding you up some stairs. Pushing open a steel door, you entered a partially demolished room, with one wall completely gone, overlooking the street. You could see the riot still going on, but it was impossible to determine if it was successful. There were more cars on fire than before, and the cops seemed never-ending.

“Hey, let me take care of ya,” the man said softly. He grabbed your shoulder and forcefully pulled you away from the scene, sitting you down on a disheveled and rather uncomfortable sofa.

The man pulled down his bandana, displaying the piercings adorning his face—a septum, two nostril piercings, snakebites.

His brow furrowed in concentration as he retrieved an antiseptic wipe from his jacket and got to work tending to your cut. You winced and your leg jerked. He held your leg in place, grip gentle but firm.

“That's a blood nasty cut,” the man sighed. “What happened? Did they get you with a baton?”

You shook your head, “No, it was glass, I think. I didn't escape quick enough when the first explosion went off. Were you there?”

“’Course I was," the man nodded, glancing up at you. “Name's Hobie Brown.”

You told him your name before glancing down at your cut, which looked much better. “What's the diagnosis, doc?” you joked. “Am I gonna live to see another day?”

Hobie let out a dramatic sigh and shook his head, “No, we’re gonna have to cut it off.”

“You got a prosthetic on you?”

“Nah, I’m kiddin’,” Hobie chuckled as he bandaged your leg. “You just ‘ad a nasty scrap with some coppers, nothin’ major.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at him, feeling a warmth blooming in your chest. “Thanks for taking care of me. Both physically and emotionally. Usually, I go home and have a massive cry.”

“It’s alright, I’ve been in similar situations. You’re not alone,” Hobie smiled back before sitting on the sofa beside you, one arm leaning on the back of it and almost wrapped around you. “So, what’s your story? You live around here? How come you ain’t scared of getting injured or arrested?”

You shrugged, “I don’t...I don’t really have a story. And I am scared, I’m just even more scared of having more of my rights taken away. So I gotta do something. It also helps that my anger overrides my fear.”

“I’m sure you’ve got a story. At least, it’s in the makin’,” Hobie replied. “So, what made ya pick up the fight?”

“Because fascists are cowards who need to die.”

Hobie laughed and clapped you on the back. “No nonsense, I like it. Couldn’t agree more. They ain’t got no place ‘ere. Respect others, help others, y’know?” Hobie said and pointed to the wall opposite you, reading the spray-painted words.

“Do no harm, take no shit,” you nodded in agreement, pointing to the pin on your jacket.

Hobie’s eyes widened a little. “Damn, that’s a wicked jacket. Mind if I take a look?”

“Go for it,” you said, and Hobie immediately started exploring every inch.

It wasn’t intrusive or uncomfortable. He did it with the excitement of a kid, running his hands over each pin and admiring the sewing on your patches. He gently touched the spikes attached to the material and let out a chuckle.

“That’s badass,” Hobie grinned wide. “You made this yourself?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I got the jacket from a charity shop and made mostly everything myself. I made the spikes using cans.”

“Cans? I never would’ve thought of that,” Hobie commented as he ran his hand over your spikes again and let out a small hiss when one of them poked him. Then, he took a pin off his own jacket and placed it in your hand, “From me to you.”

“Eat The Rich,” you read aloud, smiling. Then, you secured it onto your jacket and gave him one of your pins: one that read ‘courage is contagious’.

“You think I’ve got courage?” Hobie said, flattered, “I thought I was just gobby.”

“You are, probably,” you joked, “But you’re also very brave.”

“Not brave, just got no choice,” Hobie corrected but secured your pin onto his jacket anyway, “I can’t stand by and watch the world go to shit. The fash need to be sorted.”

You leaned over and flicked him on the cheek, making him laugh, “That is bravery, idiot. I mean, yeah, maybe to you it’s the only option, but I know plenty of other people who just lie down and take it. And I’m not calling them cowards because it’s their choice not to fight back, and it’s understandable given the many risks involved. But you are brave, Hobie Brown.”

“Other people probably disagree,” Hobie shrugged, “I just don’t wanna be controlled. Hate the government, always have.”

“Me too.”

“I can tell,” Hobie laughed before pointing to the anarchist pin you had on your jacket.

“Power’s nothing but a problem,” you replied simply.

Hobie nodded, “Power, money, fame don’t mean nothing. ‘Specially not in this shitty, capitalist hellscape we find ourselves in. I’m tired of all the greed and corruption. I’m tired of seeing people suffer and go hungry, go homeless, and being kept down by the man. All them posh heads up in their ivory towers, they don’t understand us normal folk. I bet some of them can’t even fathom where we’re coming from. They’ve never had to fight for their rights, or fight for their meals.”

You listened intently, breaking out into a grin, “You should do speeches. That was really good.”

“Speeches?” Hobie repeated and laughed. He had always been more of an action-oriented person. “Nah, I think I’d make a right hash of a speech. I prefer screaming into a mic.”

“You sing?”

“Decently,” Hobie shrugged, “Got a band. It’s called ‘Anarchic Arachnids’.”

Your eyes widened, immediately recognizing the name, “Oh, shit! I was gonna go to one of your concerts but then some work stuff came up.”

“Shame. We’re quite good in my opinion,” Hobie smirked.

“Yes, the lead singer’s opinion is very reliable,” you said sarcastically.

“So, you got a team like me? Or are you rollin’ solo?”

“I’m rollin’ solo,” you told him with a light shrug, “Well, mostly. I used to go out with some work friends sometimes, but then Osborn raised the taxes, so I’ve got barely anything on me now. I gotta steal food from shops just to have enough.”

“Stealin’ from the shops, eh?” Hobie nudged you playfully with a smirk, “Me too. Though I haven’t eaten anything much good since the riots started. All the shops near me got burned down or looted, so I've barely got anything to scrape by.”

Your heart hurt at Hobie’s words—no person should struggle to eat, and it hurt even more so because you considered Hobie a friend.

“That’s a bunch of bullshit,” you frowned, reaching over to place a supportive hand on his shoulder, “Why don’t you come back to my place? I’m not the best cook, but I do make some good beans on toast…Mostly because it’s cheap and easy, so I’ve perfected it, but still. I can make you a meal and also give you some cans to keep you going for a bit.”

“You offerin’ me food?” Hobie chuckled. It wasn’t that he thought it was stupid or a bad offer; he was clearly pleased but surprised. “I’d appreciate that. Means a lot, ya understand? Don’t even matter if I go back with you or just take some food, I appreciate your kindness.”

“I’ll do both. C’mon, I don’t live too far away,” you said and grabbed his hand, pulling him up from the sofa with you.

Instead of leaving with you, Hobie wrapped his arms around you and hugged tightly.

“Really, thanks,” he murmured and you could only laugh to yourself.

Seems like you wouldn’t be solo any longer.

[bloodymiso]

jump shot!!!

hobie brown x gn!basketball player!reader hcs mentions of injury, some swear words, sfw

i had a competition yesterday and thoughts ensued. ig reader just plays basketball for fun as a college sport, not professionally or anything. reader started playing in hs and continued through college:) pavitr ver coming soon!

hes so supportive like babygirl goes to ALL of your games

he tried to understand the rules of basketball so he wouldnt be shouting “FOUL!” all the time like a dumbass

h. “youre telling me you cant move while givin’ a screen?” r. “yeah so you arent the first to make contact with the opponent, if you do its a foul.” h. “that’s stupid”

ofc games are kinda rare cause who tf wants to hold college sports competitions

when he met your team, they lowkey BEGGED him to join(as if he could) because of his body proportions

long arms, long legs, bro was perfect

ygs like making bottlecap pins together so he made you one w a silly lil basketball

now its your goodluck charm:3

assuming youre pretty much his height and size, sometimes he’d wear your jerseys

if youre bigger than him, he doesnt really care he’ll wear them anyway

if youre smaller than him(and it wont fit) its okay he’ll hug it to sleep when you arent there

whenever you win a game he literally carries you and twirls you around like a prince/princess/whatever you prefer

he’d probably join you in after parties

wrapping his arms around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder/head while you talked with your team mates

one time he couldnt see one of your games because ew spiderman duties and he ended up getting injured after

he didnt want to interrupt you so he just climbed through your window and waited in your apartment

when you got home you tended to his injuries and scolded his dumb ass

r. “ugdhAGSH youre so stupid why didnt you call me or go to the hospital” h. “hospitals are concepts produced by the government to earn money through overpriced treatments.” r. “why am i dating you.”

whenever youre the one who gets injured, he tends to you himself

idk my angsty ass is thinking he probably had some sort of hospital trauma as a kid or just in general

whenever basketball and studies start to pile up he’ll bring you to some sort of secret spotty spot and just cuddle w you

whenever you need to rant about a teammate(or just anything tbh) he’ll listen to you

like literally he’ll memorize every bit of gossip you spat out whenever ranting

r. “yeah so anyway, ___ was such an ass today” h. “aye, isnt that the one who ate your biscuits?”

gwen and miles thinks youre cool asf like damn

you and pavitr are literal besties

he’ll bring you some vegetable samosas from his earth

eventually you stocked up on them to eat after practice

okay bye:3 want to support? reblog pookies!! i swear ill work on the matchups soon..

[izzywantscheesecake]

sick day-hobie brown

Today was a bad day.

You thought you had gotten rid of your sickness for good yesterday, but that was just the appetizer in the huge buffet of nausea your body was preparing especially for you.

You had begged your parents a second time to let you stay home from school, and they let you, albeit slightly skeptical about how sick you claimed to be. You hoped whatever was in you would disappear by the next day, because they told you after today they wouldn’t let you commit truancy any longer.

Nobody was in the house with you, everyone you lived with had work and their own personal things to deal with, so you had to treat yourself.

You stayed in bed all morning, not getting anything done and occasionally using your energy to get up and use the bathroom or go to the kitchen.

It hadn’t even hit you how much time had passed before it was around 3, the usual time your school ended. You wiped a bead of sweat off your forehead, annoyed about how lazy you’ve been all day even though it really wasn’t your fault.

Succumbing to your low energy, you began to feel your eyelids droop and your body relax. Just before everything went black, a sudden banging at your window caused you to jolt awake.

You shifted up in your bed, thinking the source of the noise might’ve been a squirrel or a pigeon, but a tall silhouette standing by your balcony told you otherwise.

Slowly pulling yourself out of the sheets, you walked towards your window, eyes beginning to sparkle once you recognized what was standing there.

It was your friend, Hobie Brown, from 6th form. He still had his uniform on, indicating he came to your house immediately after school ended, and he was holding about three bags, evenly spread out on each arm.

You unlocked your window, giving him access to your room, and he stepped in, his boots gruffly making contact with your wood tiled floor.

“Hey, Y/N. A little birdie told me you were feeling a bit iffy this week.”

“A bit? I’ve been bedridden all day. I only just got up to let you in,” You replied, swiftly pulling yourself under the warm sheets of your bed again.

Hobie examined you for a few seconds, before letting out a snort.

“Man, you look terrible. But not to fear, Hobie is here. And he’s brought you a whole lot of sacred scroll texts from the lost city of Atlantis.”

Hobie placed the first bag down, and took out a purple folder, which he then handed to you in a mock regal manner.

You opened the folder, and saw exactly what you expected to see in there. Three worksheets of linear algebra, and a packet containing some Shakespeare text with short response questions.

“Wow, thanks. My maths and literature homework.”

“I know, I’m amazing, right? Tell me why when I went to collect your work from maths, the teacher said she didn’t even think I attended school anymore.”

“Well, that lady’s always been quite senile. But then again, you’re constantly skiving so I also can’t blame her for thinking that. What’s in the other bags?”

“Some gifts.”

He opened the second bag, and you were delighted to see a pack of Cadbury chocolate bars, accompanied with a teddy bear and other various confectionaries.

Just as you were about to go all in, he stopped you.

“Wait. Have you eaten any real food all day?”

“No.. I’ve just been laying here.”

“I thought so.”

He opened the third and final bag, which was chicken broth, some spices, and a pack of noodles.

“Why did you..”

“I’m going to make you soup, silly. Consider me your private nurse.”

“You have too much free time. I’ll be fine, just go home.”

“Mmm, no. Any road, direct me to your kitchen. I’ve only ever seen your room.”

“It’s down the hall to the left. But I can show you, just follow m-”

You made a few attempts to stand up, and every time you did, Hobie would just gently shove you back onto the bed.

“Nuh uh. You stay here, let me take care of you.”

Eventually, you realized it was no use trying to fight him and you felt yourself sinking deeper down into the bed as you listened to him cook in the kitchen, humming some tune you’ve never heard of.

After maybe 30 minutes, Hobie re-entered your room with a tray of soup accompanied by tea. Also on the tray was a thermometer you assumed he must’ve stolen from your bathroom.

He gently placed the tray of food down, grabbing the thermometer and setting it closer to your lips.

“Okay, now open your mouth.”

“You’re serious about this nurse thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Now say, aaah,” He replied.

You opened your mouth and closed it once the thermometer was in. The both of you waited about a minute, before Hobie pulled it out of your mouth and examined the temperature.

“Holy shit, 38 degrees celsius. You’re burning up, Y/N.”

You shrugged as he put the thermometer down on your bedside table and picked up the tray of food, placing it gently in front of you.

“Start eating this while I get you a warm towel.”

The broth of the soup was better than expected, probably because Hobie also added additional seasoning. The tea was also good, you could taste a hint of honey which was helpful for your sore throat.

Hobie came back with the warm towel and placed it on your forehead to relieve congestion.

For the next hour, the two of you sat together, laughing and joking. Hobie told you about the latest drama at school that you’ve missed, and also talked about things he did over the weekend.

It was a very simple conversation, but you enjoyed it a lot, Hobie really had a way of making uninteresting things interesting.

Suddenly, you heard the sound of a car pulling up to your driveway, and immediately snapped your head up to check the time on the clock.

It read, “16:46.”

“Hobie, you gotta get out of here. My parents didn’t want anyone to show up to the house today.”

He quickly nodded, cleaning up as much as he could before unlocking the window. Before he jumped out, he gave you a glance.

“And don’t forget, that’ll be £150.”

You scoffed jokingly. “I said, get out of here.”

He smirked, before jumping out the window and taking off down the street.

As soon as Hobie was out of the picture, you heard your room door open, and your parents walked in.

They questioned the soup and tea on the counter in the kitchen, and you told them you had started to feel better, and made it for yourself.

Today might’ve actually been a good day.

[jgrills]

#ATSV

───── ✦ Hobie brown m.list.

guide: fluff ->🌷, dark themes -> 💀, 🚭 <- smoking

headcanons -> 1🌷, Hobie!🌷, hobie alts 🌷

Fics -> Smoking with Hobie (smoking warning!!)🚭🌷, snoozing with Hobie Brown🌷, Hot chocolate shenanigans🌷, Rooftop date w/ Hobie Brown🌷, black cat reader🌷, Ghostface Hobie 💀, artist reader w/ Hobie🌷.

Blurbs -> In bed w/ Hobie 🌷.

Miscellaneous!! -> some ideas🌷.

@jgrills

If any links aren't working, please let me know 🙏🏿

[guywithn0name]

-Alphabet headcanons-

;Hobie Brown

Hobie Brown x any gender reader

Main masterlist

Spider-man: spider-verse Masterlist

Warnings: swearing

-‘A’ is for AFFECTION (how affectionate are they?)

Hobie’s an affectionate guy. His love language is definitely physical touch and acts of service in my opinion. He always has an arm wrapped around you or he’s holding your hand. No matter what it is, he’s always in physical contact with you in some way even if it’s small. He’ll also make sure you’re always alright and he’s definitely played some of your favourite songs for you on his guitar to show how much he cares for you.

-‘B’ is for BESTFRIEND (what are they like as a bestfriend?)

If I had to choose one word on how it is to be Hobie’s friend, it’d be chaotic. He definitely cares for you, but he’s always up to something dumb. No matter what you’re up to, he can be your partner in crime. Wanna steal something from a large company? He’s there. Wanna go to a concert? He’ll be there with you. Or wanna go into the city and support small businesses? He’s definitely there with you.

-‘C’ is for CUDDLES (how and do they like to cuddle?)

Hobie honestly loves cuddles. It doesn’t matter to him if he’s the big spoon or the little spoon. Just cuddle with him. Surprisingly tho, he doesn’t like cuddling in public tho. He likes cuddling in private because he finds it relaxing in his chaotic life. Hobie likes chaos but a moment of peace every now and then is like heaven to him.

-‘D’ is for DOMESTIC (if they settle down, how will they help?)

Hobie does the house work, sometimes. He’ll help you around the house but he ends up leaving his clothes and other punk items around the place. Hobie also can’t cook for his life honestly. So if neither of you can cook, you two aren’t gonna be doing too good. He probably does some house work while listening to loud music that makes the neighbours hate him, honestly.

-‘E’ is for ENDING (how would the break up go?)

It would definitely happen face to face. Hobie thinks breaking up over text or call is just plain rude. He would be pretty straight forward about it, so he wouldn’t beat around the bush with you about wanting to break up.

-‘F’ is for FIANCÉ (how do they feel about marriage)

Hobie wouldn’t wanna get married. He doesn’t believe in commitment and getting married would kinda contradict what he always says. But Hobie definitely wouldn’t go sleeping around with other people, he likes you enough to kind of stay ‘committed’ to you. Hobie doesn’t like to admit it but he’s definitely committed to you, but he’ll never admit that.

-‘G’ is for GENTLE (how gentle are they?)

He is genuinely a nice and gentle guy even tho he’s a punk. He always makes sure he doesn’t overstep your boundaries. He’ll try to get you out of your comfort zone from time to time but he’ll never be too pushy with things. If you ever want to try something different or new, you best bet that Hobie will be there to support you and help you with it.

-‘H’ is for HUGS (do they like hugs?)

Yes. Hobie loves hugs. He’s a huge sucker for physical touch. So expect hugs from him, along with other kinds of physical affection too.

-‘I’ is for I LOVE YOU (when do they say I love you for the first time?)

Hobie probably said ‘I love you’ for the first time when you two were just hanging out together at his flat. He was tuning his guitar and the words kind of just came out.

-‘J’ is for JEALOUSY (do they get easily jealous? And if they do, what will they do?)

Hobie doesn’t get easily jealous, but on the very very rare occasions that he does. He’ll put his hand on your waist or put an arm around your shoulder while glaring at the person very intently. Hobie also has a resting bitch face so it’s easy to intimidate someone when he wants to, with his height also coming into play.

-‘K’ is for KISSES (how often do they like to get or give kisses, and where?)

Hobie gives kisses a lot, and he loves receiving them along with giving them. His absolute favourite spot to kiss you is on your forehead, it’s an easy spot to kiss in his opinion. Hobie’s favourite spot to be kissed is on his lips, it could be a quick and sweet kiss or a long and passionate one. He’ll definitely love it.

-‘L’ is for LITTLE ONES (how are they with kids?)

He’s great with kids. Kids usually stare at him since his style is so different and new to them. If a kid asks to touch a piercing that’s on his face or wants to touch his spiky jacket, he’ll pretty much always accept. Hobie’s always gentle with kids and they’re just naturally drawn to him.

-‘M’ is for MORNINGS (how are mornings with them?)

Hobie hates waking up early, he tries to hold off getting out of bed for as long as he can. He’s super groggy for the first ten minutes of him being out bed, but after that he’s back to being himself.

-‘N’ is NIGHTS (how are nights with them?)

Hobie definitely has a whole hair routine. He uses all the essential oils and hair products, you can’t change my mind. He also definitely cares about his hair more than he’s willing to admit. He also 100% wears a bonnet when he goes to sleep, can’t change my mind. But other than that, it’s all pretty chill with the occasional shower before going to bed (he doesn’t shower every day, sorry to admit it)

-‘O’ is for OPEN (how open are they about themselves?)

Hobie’s not secretive but he also isn’t the most open person to strangers. But once he gets more comfortable with you he’s definitely one of the most open people ever, like he’ll say whatever comes to mind. Even if it’s the dumbest thing ever.

-‘P’ is for PATIENCE (how patient are they with you?)

Hobie is super patient with you. Don’t wanna talk about it? It’s alright, he’ll be there to keep you company in silence. Just wanna be alone? He’ll let you be and he’ll go so something else like play his guitar or do patch some of his clothes. He’s the most patient guy ever, seriously.

-‘Q’ is for QUIZZES (how much do they remember about you?)

Like any good British punk, he remembers what he can. Hobie’s memory isn’t the best but it’s still really. He does try to remember as much as he can, which is actually a lot. I can’t guarantee that he remembers every tiny detail, but he still remembers a lot.

-‘R’ is for REMEMBER (what’s their favourite moment in the relationship?)

Hobie’s favourite moment in y’all’s relationship was probably when you two went to a concert of one of his all time favourite bands. You wore punk clothes together and just had loads of fun at the concert.

-‘S’ is for SECURITY (how protective are they?)

Like with the jealousy one, Hobie isn’t that protective. As long as some creep doesn’t try to come and harass you, he’s otherwise pretty chill.

-‘T’ is for TRY (how much effort are they putting into the relationship, dates and ect?)

He doesn’t try too hard, but he’ll give you the occasional gift. (that’s totally not stolen) And if Hobie is feeling extra nice he’ll even go to some small business and buy something from there he’ll give to you in your anniversary or Valentine’s Day.

-‘U’ is for UGLY (what’s a bad habit of theirs?)

Since his universe is set in the 1960’s. His bad habit is probably smoking. Smoking was pretty common in the 1960’s so he probably does it too. Tho, Hobie does steal the cigarettes from stores. No way he pays for them. (except if it’s from a small business)

-‘V’ is for VANITY (how insecure are they?)

Hobie being insecure? Not a thing. The last thing he’ll ever be is insecure. He’s always super confident in himself and the things he does. Hobie isn’t one of those people who are over confident, but he’s the perfect mix of it.

-‘W’ is for WHOLE (do they feel whole without you?)

Hobie wouldn’t be incomplete without you, but he’d probably miss you depending on how much he cares for you and how close the two of you were.

-‘X’ is for XTRA (extra headcanon about them)

He’s definitely written songs about you, and he also plays them to you when you two hang out. If Hobie let you put a sticker on his guitar, that means he definitely cares about you. He sometimes leaves his things at your place as an ‘accident’ so he can come over to your place to see you and get it back.

-‘Y’ is for YUCK (what can they not stand?)

Hobie doesn’t like it when people disrespect other people’s styles, life styles or something else about someone. Tho, it does matter if that person is an absolute asshole.

-‘Z’ is for ZLEEP (how is to sleep with them?)

Except a heather hugging you while you two sleep. Hobie is a literal heather, so summers are not really an ideal time to cuddle with him while you sleep. Hobie is all over the place while he sleeps. He’s also big on cuddling while sleeping. So if it’s summer then you better expect to feel overheated while sleeping and cuddling with Hobie.

HAPPY BLACK HISTORY MONTH :)

[milestacy]

wanted a lil domestic fluff with hobie brown and I decided to add a small twist to the end.

contents. hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, hobie making you breakfast, small plot twist, reader’s gender not specified.

wc. 877. requests. masterlist.

It should have been ironic. It was ironic, getting a brown apartment with Hobie Brown.

Nevermind, the word was completely wrong, ironic meant something similar to ‘opposite’ and getting a brown apartment with Hobie Brown was congruent to his last name. But you were never the expert with words, no. Hobie was. Especially when it came to his music. But you didn’t have to worry so much about words. It wasn’t important in your line of work.

You asked do you like it? When you first bought it even though it wasn’t actually his and you didn’t actually live with Hobie Brown.

I like it, he said. His eyes have already been hanging up posters on the light brown walls as they moved around the room, painting them in his gaze completely. Well, not completely. There had to be some place you could hide yourself.

You didn’t actually live with Hobie Brown but you had to ask because he comes and crashes all the time. Not that it was a bad thing—yes, your flesh was pressed so deeply into your rib cage when he would jump into bed on top of you, not with you, his weight completely compressing you into a third of whatever space you normally took up. You always let him because you had to, else he could find out.

Make it simple, he would say, when he would try to make you pancakes for breakfast every morning but it always tasted so off you never finished everything. Neither did he. Sometimes, it wasn’t because it tasted bad.

But you disagree. It’s never simple. Good things in life never come so simply to you.

I know, he replied. And he smiled. Shirtless and still gutting his pancakes with a fork, he chortled. But aren’t I a good thing?

Of course you are, you rebutted. Your pancakes still laid half finished on the white ceramic plate. A colorful yet very blackened poster of The Beatles hung over your very slim dining table.

The news buzzed softly in the background but you heard it like the bustling cries of London; a museum is under attack.

Your fingers gripped the chipped wood. Your hands and arms were steel screwed to your chair but the rest of your body was electrified.

And us, he began, getting out of his seat so abruptly the entire table shook.

We are simple, right?

Your mouth hung open, lips quivering at the empty ice holding your jaw apart.

Hobie, I have to go.

And then you correct yourself, because in this line of work, you always have to. There’s always a tunnel you have to go through, one dark and grimy, because if you swing up and leave in the light of day the world will collapse. Specifically your world.

Go ummm … change.

You rushed into your room, table clattering at your movement.

Into your spiderman suit?

Your hands slipped from the door, a screeching halt, not just to your legs but to the blood coursing through you, ice cold, the hairs on your arm now stretching for any sign of warmth.

Your eyes flickered. They’re glassy because your eyelids close over them and feel a fragile but rigid surface. You see the ghost of all the furniture in your room, and they’re dancing.

You turn.

He’s standing there as if the ground didn’t shake. As if the walls didn’t collapse. He’s so skinny, you imagined a pile of bones might lay where he once stood after he’d dropped that shattering weight.

Make it simple, he repeated again.

It’s okay.

But your knees were still bent, because you fear that if you stand completely straight you’ll find you can’t handle your own weight. Your hands moistened every surface it swept. He stood there looking.

Hobie, it’s not simple. Something cold hits your cheek.

I know, he said. He took a step forward, and you couldn’t take a step back. He’s holding his hands up like he’s the one being held at gunpoint.

I know.

Another step forward. His hands go a little higher, and he’s showing you his palms.

That’s why you gotta make it simple.

And now his hand was cupping yours, and his hand is slipping into your moist palms and now his fingers are curled around your hand.

You forgot just how long his arms were, how lanky and tall he’d been.

You’re stressed.

He gave your hand a little squeeze.

You care about these people.

The reporter’s boxy voice rings over the shock. But the shock muzzles it right back into the carpeted floors.

That’s all it is.

He drew closer. He casted his shadow on you, and it was dark for a moment and you finally felt warmth encase you when his shadow rose over you like a blanket.

His lips met your cheek, colder than you thought it would be, and he almost took a piece of you with him when he was finished.

There’s nothing else to it.

His grip loosened on your hand.

He looked past you and cocked his head a little to the left of you.

The window sat with the wind in its hair, sitting open and pretty with faint colors of buildings shining through it.

Of course it’s simple.