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SIX THE MUSICAL - MODERN!AU: illustration

Lina's family tree 1/2

Threaded Through

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

Word count: 6.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is mentioned taller than R, CW food mention, Drinking, CW spiders, TW arachnophobia, Suggestive content, Fluff.

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Thread the Needle Masterlist

CHAPTER 9 >>> CHAPTER 10

"Hobie!" You whisper yell, "what are you doing?" Eyes scanning the dark, ears perking up at the chains rattling.

"Relax, no one's here" Hobie slips through the metal gate where the chains of the lock stretched enough to give him room to wiggle himself inside. "C'mon then" he extends his hand to you, flexing his fingers impatiently. The dirty sign on the gate reads 'no trespassing' adding to your worry.

You tap your foot, biting your lip, looking behind the abandoned theme park. "Nuh uh, nope" shaking your head, you're sure something ran past behind a decrepit tent. "I'm not dying inside the old carnival! Let's just go back to the party"

"That party sucks, they're playing spin the bottle, bloody original of 'em" he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Besides we've got the good booze" sure enough, Hobie brings out a bottle of vodka tucked inside his zipped leather jacket. The liquid swishes inside as he shakes it for good measure.

"Where'd you even get that?" You laugh, surprised, eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

"Brent's dad's liquor cabinet" he says, a smug smile on his lips. "Come the fuck on, I'm freezing my balls off" Hobie lifts up the chains as far as it would allow so you could duck under it.

"We have exams on Monday!"

"Easy enough, it's all just stock knowledge" he points at his temple.

"For you it is. I'm not like you, I actually need to revise."

"And you will, Come on" Hobie sees you sticking to your stance, sighing. "If i help you revise tomorrow will you come inside?"

"Fine, I'll blame you if we get murdered by a killer clown" You duck under while Hobie's hand shields your head from the rusty metal.

"I can take him–" Hobie stops mid sentence as you stand to your full height, face mere inches away from him. So close he can see every detail of your face, how the light bounces off your eyes, clouds of air puffing out of your lips. His breath hitches in his throat.

"You and those skinny arms? Don't think so, Hobs" you try to play it off, lips pursing closed, trying to even out your breathing. "Where to go next?" You chuckle nervously, stepping away from him, taking in his sudden silence as him being uncomfortable.

"I've been eyeing that ferris wheel" Hobie shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. He walks side by side with you, keeping you close. In case there is a killer clown on the loose.

Eyes on the rickety ride. "God, no! That thing hasn't been working since the eighties, you wanna kill us?" You didn't notice that Hobie's not next to you anymore, whirling, you look for him. "Hobie? Hobie! What the fuck?" Hugging your bubble jacket closer to you in comfort. "It's not funny, Hobart!" Yelling out, you have a sudden urge to run away, but you don't, not intending to leave him.

You jump when lights suddenly turn on, blinking at you. Colorful bulbs do their best to stay on after not being used for years. You gasp out, laughing breathlessly. The place doesn't seem so scary now. You half expect the speakers to come back to life, but it doesn't, the only noise is from the whirring of the old generator and crickets singing in the dark.

Hobie lingers on the side, bottle in hand, completely enthralled with you bathed in light. A love sick smile stuck on his face.

"Hobie! Holy shit" noticing him, you call out to your best friend, waving your arms in delight.

He saunters to you, absolutely smug, you scoff playfully at his ego. "Let's hear it" Hobie brings his hand to the shell of his ear, acting like he can't hear you.

"What do you want me to say? Good job?"

"How 'bout 'You're the man, Hobie!' Or just start showering me with praises"

"I'll shower you with that vodka if you don't stop"

"Rude of you to assume I wouldn't actually like that"

You shove him lightly, "Good job flicking a switch, Hobart"

"Oi, I had to figure out which switch to open"

Rolling your eyes, you grab his arm, putting a stop to your bickering, if you don't you two would've gone all night. Leading him further inside, Hobie slyly moves his arm so he could hold your hand instead, you pretend to not notice, finding the lights to be the most interesting thing in the world, your hand cups his warm ones, squeezing it lightly.

Friends do this too, right?

Hand in hand, you stop at a booth that looks like it was for some kind of carnival game. Cartoon clowns lined up on the far back, mouths open. There's still some stuffed toys hanging on the side of the booth albeit too dirty or broken to take with you.

"Oh man, I wanted one" You pout, leaning on the divider to check for better looking toys. Hobie copies your movement, rummaging behind the counter.

Something hits your head with a squeak, you glare at Hobie acting nonchalant, feigning innocence as he examines a soft ball. You bet that it squeaks when squeezed.

"Oh 'kay" you bite your lip, blindingly reaching out towards the first thing you touch, unfortunately for Hobie it was a crusty plushy, aiming for his head, it hits him square on the chest, leaving grime and cobwebs all over his jacket.

You laugh loudly as he wipes wildly at his clothes, yelping when his hand touches something wet.

"Disgusting!" Hobie has an idea, he extends his arms towards you for a hug, taking small strides. "Come here, lovey" with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a lopsided smile, he closes the distance.

"No, don't even think about it!" Walking backwards with a smile, your back hits a pole. "Ack!" You screech when he embraces you, warmth and his familiar scent wafts your senses. A giggle escapes you, making Hobie hug you tighter.

"Now we both smell" you try to wiggle out of his hold, Hobie shakes you from side to side, you go dizzy in his arms, going limp, feigning hurt. "Oi," he shakes you lightly, chuckling at your antics. "She's dead, I can finally sacrifice her to the clowns" he moves you towards the cartoon clowns.

You drag your feet, he carries your full weight. "A little help here?" Hobie asks, you open one eye only to tightly close it again. "I'm tryin' to appease the gods here y'know" he says in between laughs, flicking your forehead.

"Really clown gods? Could've chosen better ones" you smile giddily up at him, he beams back at you, cradling the back of your head.

He scoffs, "or a much more willing sacrifice" Hobie straightens you out, fixing the collar of your jacket. You let out a small thank you, hot where his fingers grazed your skin.

"I saw somethin' better than the ferris wheel" he mumbles out.

"Yeah? Let's go then" taking his hand in yours you loop your pinky finger with his. Hobie leads you with a wobbly smile.

—

Hobie helps you up on the large Gondola, an out of commission viking ride that's supposed to swing up and down, now it's inoperable, looking glum amidst the twinkling lights. A wooden mermaid is carved on its bow, marred by time and exposed to the elements. It must've been a sight back then.

Using your foot as leverage, Hobie lifts you up by your hand, "I've got you" he heaves, your foot loses balance on the edge, threatening to fall off. "Shit!" Gasping out, you reach for his neck as he panics to grab a hold of you.

"I have you—Holy fuck!" Hobie secures you by your waist, your eyes tightly closed, head right on the crook of his neck. "You okay?" He places you back on solid ground, the ride creaks in the wind.

"Yeah," you exhale a shaky breath. Pulling away. "I'm gonna need that vodka" sitting down on the boat, you gesture towards the bottle on the floor. It wasn't even a far fall if he didn't catch you, but the thought of you getting hurt sounded alarms in his head.

Hobie snickers, he opens the bottle before he hands it to you, fingers touching yours for a split second. It's more than enough to warm his skin, not needing the alcohol to heat him up anymore. You take a sip whilst Hobie lounges to the seat in front of you, arm stretched on the back of it, long legs propped up next to your lap.

The moon casts him in a dark shadow, his newly pierced ears glinting in the moonlight, he looks ethereal this way, divine and out of reach. The lights whir, having a hard time lighting the old place.

You do the same to him with a smirk, legs right next to his jeans, taking a swig while your eyes stay to him. The warm liquid slides to your throat, warming you immediately.

You have no idea the effect you have on him. Hobie clenches his fists, breathing staggered, eyes flickering to your lips. It's not your intention though, you just wanted to show off that you can take your alcohol.

Hobie taps your thigh with his boot, clearing his throat before talking, "you're gonna drink all of it" He takes the bottle from your hand as you cough loudly. "That's what you get for hoarding all the vodka" chastising you, he leans to pat your back with a lot of effort on his part, almost folding himself in half.

"Fuck, that's– whew" your face all scrunched up, regretting your choices. Coughing again, your throat burns.

"You good, Gromit?" He asks with a laugh.

"Did you bring water with you?" Tears prick your eyes, sniffling.

"No, didn't think to" Hobie says apologetically, he winces when you let out another cough.

"You could've grabbed a bottle? I feel like my throat has razor blades in it" clearing your throat, you knead at your neck.

"Your fault, love. I didn't dare you" He takes a sip, taking your slight cough as a cautionary tale.

"Why'd you take us to this death trap anyway? Wait, did you plan this?" You look at him with a raised brow, realization hitting you.

"Nah, I told you the party was boring me to death" he lies, but you know him too well, noticing his tells. The slight bob of his adam's apple, eyes flicking to the side of your face for a split second, fingers itching at the back of his hand. You don't mention it or even tease him about it, intending to enjoy your time together.

"Yeah, going to jail for underage drinking and trespassing sounds better" you laugh, Hobie brings his feet to your lap, soles grazing your jacket. To his surprise, you don't protest. Legs parallel to each other, you play with the aglet of his boots.

"No one goes here except for teenagers wanting a place to snog" he regrets his words immediately, his ears feel like it's about to burst into flames.

You look at him with a growing smirk, with the alcohol coursing through you, it gives you liquid courage when you say the next words. "You planning on snogging me here, Hobs?"

Hobie almost spit takes at your question, he answers with the same bravado, shyness nonexistent as he feels his skin warm up from the alcohol. "If I'm gonna snog you, we would be in a better place than this rust bucket"

Instantly sobering up, you blink in surprise, chuckling nervously. Biting more than you can chew, your eyes try to avoid his lips.

Sitting in an awkward silence, Hobie takes another swig, you hug your torso from the biting cold. The tension is thick, his legs sit heavy on your lap. He notices these kinds of silences have increased these last few years, Hobie hopes it's not because you're pulling away from him or worse, him pushing you away with his growing affections.

You finally try to cut the tension, "Can we–" Hobie thought of the same, unintentionally cutting you off.

"I'm–shit. Sorry, go on" He really wants to hear what your next words will be, it could either cross the line between your friendship into something more. Hobie anticipates, hanging to every syllable you would utter.

"Can we go home? This place kinda gives me the creeps" He did not expect that, "the lights help but now some of them are flickering and it's like something's gonna come out" biting your lip, you look at Hobie directly.

The only reason you want to go is to get rid of the awkwardness, blaming the dark yet romantic atmosphere. You want to stay, you really do, but if the air stays like this between you, you'd rather go home. Save yourself the embarrassment of pining for your best friend. Guess Hobie isn't the only one lying tonight.

"Yeah, sure" He sits up, dejected, legs retreating back to him.

"Sorry, what was it you're gonna say?" Leaning your elbows on top of your thighs, you take the bottle from Hobie, getting his attention.

He sighs, you see a rare sight. He looks somewhat afraid. Why would Hobie be afraid though? It's just you.

You try to encourage him with a joke, "you feeling okay? You look constipated, is it the vodka?" He chuckles, you stand up, mirroring his small smile.

But that's the thing, it's you, a few years ago his little crush turned into puppy love, and that love turned into full blown yearning, longing for you to see him as something else other than your 'best mate' at first he thought it was just a phase, muddled with his teenage hormones, latching to the closest person he feels attracted to. Then it persisted, he realized that his deep affection for you was something else entirely other than some hormone induced crush.

It was safe to say Hobie hated puberty.

He bites the bullet, if he's gonna tell anyone it would be you. "I'm leaving school"

"Oh" dropping down from the gondola, you hide your frown. He's leaving, he's leaving you. Hands shaking at the thought, you mindlessly walk away, following the brightest thing in the carnival. "Why are you leaving?" Trying to hide the shakiness of your voice, you wring your hands together, taking another sip of the warm liquid.

Is it you? Did you cross the border too much? Is he sick of you? The cold doesn't help with your thoughts.

"I don't like school, you know that" Hobie watches your retreating form, he knew you wouldn't take it well but it still hurts when you turned your back on him. "Y/n" he calls out as you step on the carousel.

Turning around, his explanation calmed you down a smidge. You try to fix your expression. The bright lights of the carousel envelopes you, a halo forming around your body. You give him your hundred dollar smile.

"Okay, just don't forget me when you're famous" laughing dryly, Hobie joins you in the light, taking your shaking hands.

Knowing you for a long time, he reads you like an open book, looping his pinky with yours, Hobie looks at you straight on.

"I'm staying in the city, just not at school. 'm not leaving" you, he wanted to add but he's not brave enough to say the word.

Inhaling, you focus on the horses instead of his hold on you. "You should've led with that," you say with a tight lipped smile, extending your encouragement to him, you swallow your sadness. "I'm proud of you, if anyone's gonna make it out there it would be you" finally looking at him, gold bounces off his iris, honeyed flecks dancing in his eyes. "You can go on tour if you want to, you don't have to stay in the city" with me, the words echo in your mind.

Telling the absolute truth, your face is serious, hiding the ache. You will always be supportive of him even if it means leaving you in the process.

"Well we have to build our reputation first before goin' on tour," Hobie sways your intertwined hands. "Besides, my number one fan is here, who's gonna cheer us on?" He gives you his best smile, the same one that haunts your dreams.

Legs wobble from under you, leaning towards him, Hobie's eyes widen at your movement.

You embrace him, head laying on his broad shoulder. Mind reeling, you can't help but feel you're holding him back from doing greater things.

A sharp whistle pulls you away.

—

Hobie opens his eyes, back aching from the lumpy settee, his right arm practically numb. He's not usually a morning person, but with you sleeping comfortably in his arms, he wants to wake up earlier just to see this rare sight. Hobie smiles at how relaxed your face is, brows unfurrowed, mouth slightly parted and your skin glistening in the early morning sun. Your back to the couch, squeezed in between him and the settee, Hobie's arm wrapped around your torso, protecting you from the springs protruding from the cushions. Your Hands tucked to his side, fingers curled unconsciously on his shirt.

He doesn't care that his long legs dangle off the armrest, couch too small for his tall stature, or how there's a crick in his neck. Despite it all, Hobie hasn't slept this well in a long time. He's glad last night wasn't all a dream. Gently caressing your cheek with his pinky just to make sure you're actually real in his embrace.

You shift in your sleep, licking your dry lips, inhaling a gulp of air. It's like you're attuned with his senses, already knowing he's wide awake. You fake sleep, acting like you're deep in slumberland. Feeling his chest rise up and down, you can't help but curl your lips into a small smile when he covers his leg over yours, securing you in his hold.

Hobie knows you're awake though, his enhanced senses telling him the shift in your heartbeat and breathing. He's in a good mood so he intends to tease you this morning. Testing to see what your reaction will be in this new found position he has you in.

He tries to leave the couch, carefully taking his arm from under you, leg up, untangling from yours. You immediately protest, grasping his torso with your eyes closed. Pulling him back down to your side. Chuckling at your reaction, butt hitting the cushions with a thud, he slides back down to your side, going back to the same position. Your cheek pressed to his chest as Hobie kneads at the soft skin of your waist.

Still in your outfit, his fingers fiddle with a sunflower stitched to your cami. You lean further into him, arm over his torso, feeling his warmth through his shirt.

You're the first one to speak, sleep still lingering in your voice. "You talked in your sleep"

"And you drooled all over me but no one's keeping track" Hobie's morning voice sounds deeper, goosebumps appear on your skin when you feel the vibration from his chest.

"Hmm" you hum, content in his arms, savoring the precious moment. "I don't drool" cracking one eye open, you fight the sleep off. You rile him up just to hear the deep rumble of his voice.

"There's a wet patch on my sleeve that begs to differ" he says, nuzzling your hair. "What did I say?"

"Hm, you woke me up for a bit when you said clowns and my name. Sounds like you were having a really good dream about me" you take a peek at him through half lidded eyes. Hobie gently rubs the sleep off the corners, you practically vibrate at his touch.

"Well, you are a clown" he quips, you gasp dramatically, grabbing the hem of his shirt, balling it in your fist.

"What did you say? You punk?" Trying to sound as menacing as possible even though you're half asleep, you smile through the threat.

"I said you're gorgeous" his eyes flick to your lips for a second before Hobie gives you his best smile. You feel like a gem in his gaze, letting out a small 'thought so'. "For a clown" he says against your lips, chasing the soft plush of it.

"You–!" Pushing him off the sofa, he laughs all the way down, his butt landing on the floor, back on the foot of the sofa. His hands glued to your waist, almost bringing you down with him. You lay upside down with Hobie's hand on you, his face upturned, inches away from yours.

Pecking the tip of his nose, you don't care for morning breath, with Hobie, nothing embarasses you anymore. He feels the same, leaning up to change the course of your kiss to his waiting lips.

Giggling, you cup his jaw, neck straining to reach him in the upside down kiss. Hobie feels like he's dreaming again.

Before the kiss could go any further, you pull away, already missing his lips. "Can I go shower?"

"Sorry, I should've brushed first" he winces.

"It's not that, we literally made out last night with shawarma breath. I don't give a shit, Hobs" you chuckle, leaving a chaste kiss on his lips for good measure. He grins at your words, "I just really need to get out of these clothes and wash my face"

"Right, You just want to wear my clothes" Hobie flicks your forehead, "perv"

"You're the perv, dreaming about me with clowns and shit" laughing, you sit upright, nudging him with your socked foot.

"Yeah, it was bloody steamy" he riles you up again, it doesn't work this time though.

"Tell me later" walking to the bathroom, you spare him a sly glance over your shoulder.

When did you get so immune to his teasing? Hobie feels he needs to up his game.

—

Hobie scrapes off the egg sticking to the pan, now in his home clothes, a plain band shirt with the sleeves cut off and sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Hissing when hot oil flies towards his hand.

He feels you before he hears you, shutting the bedroom door behind you, the broken answering machine takes your attention from Hobie's toned arms.

Wiping your arms with the towel, you glare at the machine. "What are you planning with this thing?" Gesturing vaguely.

"What thing?" Taking the mugs out of the cabinet, he spares a look behind him. Maybe he shouldn't have. You look right at home, his jumper hugs your torso comfortably, pajama pants that he hasn't worn in a long time fits just right on your waist.

Hobie wants to kiss you as soon as possible. His senses are still a bit wonky, jumping slightly when the bread digs out of the toaster.

"Your machine" moving closer to him, feet padding on the wooden floors, you take the plate full of eggs, scrambled for you, sunny side up for him. "Thanks, Hobs"

"Ah, you forgot somethin'" you hum curiously, letting him turn you back around by your shoulder. Thinking that he might hand you the mugs of tea, instead he kisses your cheek, you squeak out, carefully balancing the plate in your wobbly hand. "There, what's up with the machine?" He goes back to making tea as if he didn't steal a kiss right under your nose. You don't seem to mind though.

"I think you should just throw it out"

"I can still fix it" He pours milk into your cup.

"Hobie, I know you can but that thing is bloody cursed" tone serious, you place the eggs on the kitchen island.

He guffaws at your comment, he can't believe your minds are so in sync with each other, Hobie sometimes feels like you're connected to him.

He still asks you even though he knows your answer, a ploy to keep hearing your voice. "Why do you think it's cursed?"

"Well, you bought it off an estate sale, it's probably haunted by the old owner. Second, it shocked you while you were installing the damn thing." Hands on your hips, you lean on the counter. Hobie snickers at your comments. "And lastly it has committed a crime against us"

Hobie laughs loudly, shaking the boat slightly as he doubles over in laughter. "What's the crime that my machine committed?" Mirroring your stance, he drapes the dish cloth over his shoulder.

You bite the inside of your cheek with how attractive he looks right now. "Sabotage" mumbling it out.

"Sabotage?" Hobie closes the distance, hands lovingly holding your shoulders. You click your tongue, moving his hand from your shoulder up to your jaw before you place your hands back to your hips again.

He tilts his head, thumb circling over to your cheek. "Cursed or not, the thing's expensive. I can still fix it"

"My parents have a spare one, I can nick it for you" biting your lip, you say the next words softly like you're still unsure. "Take it as a housewarming present from me, before I move in?"

Hobie's giddy smile melts your trepidation, leaning in, he stops a few centimeters from your lips. Closing your eyes in anticipation. Your brows furrowed when you don't feel his lips on yours. Cracking your eyes open, you see Hobie smirking mischievously. Huffing, you stick out your tongue in annoyance. Pushing him away with your palm on his face.

He chuckles, pinching your nose for a brief second before going back to making your tea. His houseboat has never felt more like home before, Hobie thinks you're the missing piece in making it so.

—

Hobie and you share a plate, standing hip to hip near the kitchen island, forks fighting for the last bit of egg. Soft music plays in the background from his old record player, the slow song a rare one in his large collection of vinyls.

"Since when?" He stops attacking you with his fork, moving the egg closer to your side of the plate, surrendering.

"Hmm? Since when what?" You ask, cutting the egg in half, giving the bigger cut to him.

He hums appreciatively, bringing the egg to his mouth. Suddenly feeling anxious at what he's gonna say.

Drinking your tea, you wait for him to continue.

"Since when did you start fancying me?" You almost choke, eyes widening at his question. Hobie never fails to surprise you.

You swallow your breakfast, "well," buying time, sipping your drink. "I don't know the day exactly. I think everything just clicked for me" answering, you avoid his gaze.

Hobie moves your chin so he could look you in the eyes. He didn't confess to you and make things awkward between you. Breaking the tension, he moves closer, leaning against the counter. Hand comfortably pressed on the small of your back. You bring him closer by his waist, hand staying there.

"So you just woke up one day and went 'I fancy my best mate?'" Fully joking, he raises a pierced brow.

You chortle, "No, I remember it being gradual. Like slowly getting past your ego," he rolls his eyes, you chuckle at his reaction. "your teasing and all the spikes." Giggling, he clutches his nonexistent pearls. "I dunno exactly when" shrugging your shoulders, you tell the truth. "But a rough approximate, probably between year eight or nine"

"You fuckin' telling me I could've been holding you like this since year nine?"

You guffaw loudly, "maybe not like this! We would've been too young!"

"A couple of years later then" Hobie matches your laugh, hugging you closer.

After a minute of comfortable silence, you continue to eat while still clinging to each other, Hobie pipes up. "Do you have someplace to be today?" He hopes for a 'no'

"Yeah, I have to go back to campus to submit my papers for graduation" biting a piece of your toast, noticing his lack of reply. "Or I can do that tomorrow." You see him perk up in your peripheral, "deadline isn't till next week anyway" slyly side eyeing him, a cheeky smile on your giddy face.

"Good" He acts disinterested. Hiding his smile behind his mug, but you know better.

You wait for a few seconds, smirk slowly spreading on your lips. "You've got something planned for us?"

Hobie chuckles, "Nah, just wanna stay home" he wipes the crumbs off your chin. "With you"

"Oohh I feel so special" leaning into his touch, you blink at him prettily.

"Gorgeous" he softly says, staring deep into your eyes.

"Yeah? Even with crumbs all over me?"

Without warning, He lifts you up by your thighs effortlessly. Laughter fills the modest boat, you cling to his neck, leaning down to kiss him. He tastes sweet because of the tea, you savor him, legs tightening around his waist. Humming into the kiss. His hands squeeze your upper thighs, still at a respectable distance.

Thanks to his new found senses, Hobie leads you back to the couch, a feat in itself without bumping into furniture while his eyes are closed. His back lands on the lumpy cushions, earning him a groan as he feels the friction between you. Kissing you deeper, fingers massaging the back of your neck.

You arch your back, Hobie lets out a deep sound from the back of his throat. Needing air, you pull away with a breathless smile.

"Fuck" His chest heaves up and down, half lidded eyes stare up at you.

Chuckling, satisfied at his reaction, you lean back down to pepper his jaw with kisses. Hobie laughs (which sounded more like a giggle to you) with every smack of your lips on his skin.

"You sound" kiss "so manly" kiss "right now"

"That so?" Surroundings blur as he flips you over quickly but carefully, a large hand cradling the back of your head so that you don't hit the armrest. Your back landing on the cushion, legs still wrapped around his waist. His arms cageing you, grinning down at your flustered face. His necklace swings over your face, you restrain yourself from grabbing it to pull him further down to you.

You gulp down on air, like butter on a hot pan, you melt under him. Hobie sees your bare fingers, having an idea. With love seeping out of his pores, he slips his favourite ring off his finger. You give him a curious stare, feeling loopy with all the affections.

"Hand" he instructs you with a goofy smile, fingers flexing towards you. Shaking your head, you play hard to get. He rolls his eyes, smiling staying put. "Please"

Giggling, you give him your left hand, your heart threatening to pump out of your chest as he slips the metal ring to your pointing finger. You bite your lip when the ring twirls around your finger, ring too big for it. He huffs, sparing you a playful glance. You shrug, biting your lip to tamp down your giddy laughter.

Hobie takes the ring out for a second before putting it on your middle finger, it fits perfectly around you. The metal arms of the spider curl around your finger, hugging it. The red gleam of its eyes makes it look alive.

You bring the hand closer to your face, fanning your face like a southern bell about to faint from the summer heat.

Hobie's face feels like it's about to set on fire, pulse drumming loudly against his skin. He laughs at your antics. Admiring his ring on you.

"I made you so soft for me" your eyes tender, saying it in a sing-song cadence, hand reaching up to cup his cheek. You feel how warm he is, his ring grants him reprieve, cooling down a tiny area of his skin.

"Not soft right now though" Hobie leans down with a grin. You know exactly what he meant.

Gasping out, "Hobie! You–" Hobie cuts you off by blowing raspberries on the soft plush of your neck.

—

Hobie drops you off in front of your dorm building, you're practically wearing his wardrobe, save for your own shoes. Leather jacket over his jumper, too long jeans that he folded on each leg so you don't trip over the denim. His ring shines in the late morning sun right on your middle finger, still giddy at the thought of you wearing it. Your heavy bag full of clothes slung over your shoulder.

Hobie sits on his bike, motor still running, his hands sit comfortably on your waist. You're slotted in between his legs, fingers fixing the stray threads on his leather vest that you've lovingly given to him.

You've (reluctantly) come back to the dorms to submit your graduation requirements, having the entire day to yourself (to your dismay) but it's a necessary evil so you could spend the entire day with him tomorrow.

"You sure you don't want me to pick you up tomorrow?" He loops his thumb over your (his) belt loop.

"Nope, I can meet you there. I need to drop by aunt Janet's for my last order and you've got that protest. I can go with you if I finish early though"

"Right, call me if you need a ride" Hobie doesn't want to pressure you or worse, make you feel stifled.

"Mm-hmm, it's just a roll of fabric. I've managed before" you act brave in front of him. Truth be told, you want him next to you the entire day tomorrow, but you don't want him to think you're being too clingy. You're gonna move in with him anyway.

"Then I'll help you move in" as if reading your mind, Hobie pipes up excitedly.

"Then you can help me move in" chuckling, you agree with him. "First proper date tomorrow, huh?"

Hobie snorts, "Don't think that's the first one ever. We've been on hundreds"

"Yeah, but this one would be the first proper one. You asked me this time" looking at him through your eyelashes you can't help but peck his cheek. "You've got a plan for us then?"

"Maybe" Hobie guides your face with his hand, moving you to his lips instead. "Hell, I'll even get you flowers if you want. Since it's the first proper one" he says against your kiss bitten lips.

"Looking forward to it then" kissing him goodbye, you embrace him tightly. "Oh!" Pulling away suddenly, he pouts his lips. "I almost forgot, here" you take something out of your bag, placing it in his hand.

He looks at the red and blue spider trapped inside the glass casing, "it's dead right?"

"Yeah, you squished it. I've been meaning to give it to you since you gave me one" showing your ringed finger, twirling the metal spider around.

"How romantic, a dead spider" He says deadpanned, side eyeing you.

"Fine, give it here. Peter will love it" reaching over to take it from Hobie, he moves it away from you.

"Nah, it's mine. You gave it to me first" clicking his tongue, eyes crinkling in the corners, Hobie pockets it with a ghost of a smile.

You shake your head with a loopy grin, pecking his lips one last time before leaving. "Drive carefully" eyes soft, leaving one last kiss for good measure.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, love" He chases your lips, hesitantly pulling away.

—

You bump into your RA in the hallway, she looks at you from head to toe, clearly not in your own clothes.

"Fun night?" She asks with a knowing smirk.

"Very fun" you indulge her because of your good mood. She does a double take, not expecting you to actually answer her like that.

—

You sigh for the umpteenth time, closing the door to the admin's office. Still in Hobie's clothes, coming down from the high of being with him, you crave him more. Having some sort of withdrawal symptoms, feeling jittery and excited to see him again. Of course you wouldn't tell him that or he'll endlessly tease you about it.

Smiling like a mad woman, you walk past your old classroom.

"L/n!" Mrs. Williams calls out to you. Surprised she knows your last name or even remembers you. You peek around the corner, seeing her sitting down on her desk littered with stacks of papers and Manila envelopes.

"Good afternoon, professor" smiling politely, she gestures for you to come inside.

Truth be told, you were saving her for last on submitting your requirements, even though she was strict and (undeniably) terrifying, Mrs. Williams was an inspiration to you. Always prim and proper, her talent in designing is top tier. You learned a lot from her.

You stop right next to her desk, glancing at the various portfolios on her desk. Spotting yours in the forefront, you flick your eyes back to the brunette, hiding your sudden nervousness. Maybe you should've changed into something more fashionable before going back to campus. Hiding your hands inside Hobie's sleeves, you anxiously pick at your nail polish or what's left of it.

"Knock knock" someone suddenly knocks on the (already) open doors with enthusiasm. Turning around, you recognize the man as Mr. Riley from the fashion show, he holds two lattes in his hand.

He stands up straight the moment he spots you, "oh great timing"

"I assume you've met each other?" The woman genuinely smiles at Mr. Riley.

"Yes," answering, you don't miss their lingering looks towards one another as Mr. Riley gives her the latte.

"I was about to tell her about your proposition" Williams says through her paper cup.

Snapping out of it, Mr. Riley gives you his best smile. "Well, I've faxed my boss your portfolio and she absolutely loves it!" You beam at his words. "We would really love it for you to be part of the team after you graduate"

"That's amazing! I–I don't know what to say" you roam your eyes towards your professor for approval, she looks at you with a nod and small smile. "Thank you!" You laugh in bewilderment.

"Is that a yes?" Riley brings his hand for you to shake. "Of course we'll give you ample time to sort your papers for the move. Two months seems like the right timeline."

You were about to shake his hand to accept his offer but you stop halfway when he says the word 'move'. "I have to move? Where exactly?" Voice shaking, you drop your hand back to your side.

"L.A. in America" He says as if that's the closest place to move to. "You know, where our headquarters are?"

Mrs. Williams notices your knitted brows and slow blinks. "Ian, may I talk to my student for a minute" she looks up at him through her long lashes.

"Yeah– of course, I forgot your scones anyway. Be right back!" He walks away, shutting the door behind him.

Heart stuck in your throat, you look at your professor for guidance.

"Listen, out of the entire graduating class, only three were approved. One of them is you."

You release a shaky breath, lips tightening to a flat line, trying to stop your heaving. Your excitement turns into something indistinguishable, something that feels unwarranted, a stabbing sensation all over your skin.

Williams takes your portfolio in hand, flipping through it. "You see this?" She shows you a sketch of Hobie's outfit, his eyes seem to pierce through you. "This is the outfit, the only reason it didn't make it to the top three is because there wasn't enough of you in it."

You try to wrap your mind around her statement, ears focused on her words.

"I understand your…" she tries to find the right words. "...worry. But you must understand, not a lot of people get this opportunity. Don't let it pass you by"

You recognize those words, heart clenching at the different meaning behind it.

"Riley will only be here till next week, you have that time to decide. Please take my words into consideration, I want all my students to thrive."

You nod, murmuring a small 'thank you'. Walking away from the room, you slip away to an empty broom closet. Mind racing, it all stops to him, his smiling face appears in your mind's eye, voice echoing amidst the rushing and chaos of your thoughts.

Silent tears slide down your cheeks. You don't even know why you're crying. Already knowing what to do, wiping your eyes, tears sticking on your lashes, you already know, Right?

A/N: Thank you for reading! I can't believe we're almost at the end 😭 let me know your thoughts ❤️

five seconds later:

Black Cat: Queen In Black, Part 3 by Jed MacKay

Out of Style

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

Word count: 6k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is mentioned taller than the reader, cw food mentions, cursing, hurt/comfort, suggestive content, Fluff.

My Navigation

Thread the Needle Masterlist

CHAPTER 8 >>> CHAPTER 9

Closing the door quietly, you press your sleep deprived head on the wood, cursing your cowardice. You saw him yet you chose to ignore him.

You sit down on your cold bed, books and bag clattering on the floor. Pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes, your mind flips back to five minutes ago. How Hobie lingers on the sideline, waiting for you. From where you stood you couldn't possibly see his face. You have a hunch on what he feels though, maybe embarrassed that you saw him like that? Confused on why you ran from him? Probably. You imagine it, but one emotion you couldn't possibly wish to see: anger. Furious that you didn't let him say his peace, or annoyed that you disturbed his time with that woman.

You sigh, eyeing the package Peter gave you. Grabbing it from the carpet, opening the small paper bag, you see the spider that bit Hobie, body trapped inside a glass square casing.

You feel like that dead spider right now, the bug that bit more than it can chew, ending up hurting itself because it took a chance.

Looking at the arachnid, you spot its silhouette, circular body with eight arms protruding from the sides. You have a lightbulb moment.

Taking the leather vest you've thrifted on your own and tailored specifically for Hobie. You flip it on its back, showing the dreaded empty space. You bite your lip, striding over to your table, grabbing fabric chalk to draw the spider's outline.

Looking at it from a distance, from the spikes on the shoulder, to the various pins and patches you've placed on the leather. Some of them show your influence on the design, scattered flowers and references from your time together. A stereo that looks exactly like the one you two always brought everywhere you went, the pink notebook, a catalyst for the start of your friendship together. Even a green puppet that looks like Terry. You think it's perfect, now to paint the spider.

Excited to get started, you suddenly realize if he still wants to help you. After your dramatic exit, doubt lingers in the back of your mind. Will he even go to the show now that he's got someone? Someone better, someone who isn't so afraid of saying how they feel. Someone who's more like him.

Your heart shudders at the thought of standing alone from now on, fingers tracing over the cherry patch that you've painstakingly embroidered, peripheral glancing over the picture Yuri took of you two on the boat, it's a bit blurry, you're smiling as he carries you in his arms, he matches your expression, eyes closed in delight.

You make the choice, not wanting to cut off ties with your best mate just because you hurt yourself. Hobie doesn't know how much you like him, he's not a telepath that can read your mind.

You bravely face the truth.

Unrequited feelings bubbling to the surface, a sob breaks through, hot tears spilling over on the leather vest. Fabric chalk dissolving in your tears.

You decide, even if it kills you to do so.

—

You ran away again, mentally beating yourself up, lamenting all the things you should've done instead of running away.

You chew your bottom lip anxiously, shifting from leg to leg, playing with the frayed edges of a loose thread on the embroidered flowers that you've painstakingly stitched on your lace cami. Your eyes dart around the backstage of the fashion show, classmates running around to fix any last minute changes on their models. You on the other hand, sit by your lonesome, the plastic chair scrapes on the floor as you stand up by the umpteenth time, pacing around in your heavy platform boots that you've customized yourself. The little red butterfly wings painted on the back of the boots make it look like you're gliding around the wooden floors, chain rattling around the laces as you pace with unease.

The outfit you're wearing is a perfect partner to what was supposed to be Hobie's outfit. You worry that he won't show up, palms sweaty at the thought. But this is Hobie, he won't let you down, right? Unless he's with that woman right now then you have to accept your fate, which is you walking down that blasted runway.

Mrs. Williams peeks behind the curtain, you can briefly see the growing crowd behind her. Fuck, you internally curse biting at your nails, nail polish bitter as your tongue touches your nail.

"Five minutes till show time" Mrs. Williams roams her eyes around her frozen students and partners, eyes stopping on your form. "And only five minutes" she addresses you, your heart stops, fellow designers look at you with pity.

Your hope is dwindling.

You gulp down, lace cami hugging your torso uncomfortably, unbuttoning the sleeves of your white frilly blouse to give you some breathing room. You now regret wearing such an elaborate outfit, it was supposed to be a surprise for Hobie, wherever said man is.

Grabbing the bright red blazer draped on the back of the chair, you hug it against your chest, hand tracing the safety pins strategically placed on the back to look like wings. You calm down a bit, but not enough.

Someone taps your shoulder, hope blossoms, turning around, your hopeful smile fades, seeing your classmate Hannah looking at you apologetically.

"Sorry," she winces, knowing your predicament, bright pink hair noticeable against her darker clothing, "but can you help me with this stitch? Please, it'll only take a second, I just need you to hold this bit." she raises her partner's arm, a loose thread that has come undone in the seams sway slightly in the wind.

"Yeah, of course" you give her a polite smile.

"Thank you, y/n" she sighs, relieved. Her partner looks unbothered around the chaos.

Better be bored than not around, you thought. Maybe you shouldn't have come that day, you might've lived in ignorant bliss to what happened that fateful morning but at least your heart would still be in one piece. You miss him, even with what he did, Hobie is still your best friend after all, before you came to love him, first and foremost he's your friend.

You ignored his calls, too heartbroken to talk to him, even more so seeing him, that's why you told your RA not to let him inside your dorm, giving her the excuse that you're sick and want to be alone. With a raised eyebrow she accepted and understood, not asking any more questions. Maybe that was wrong of you to do, maybe talking to him like an adult was better. You can't blame him for finding someone else to warm his bed, you're not together, the only thing that cements his feelings for you was a very subtle confession and an almost kiss.

Your eyes start to glaze over again, lips trembling at the thought of him lying to you or worse you read the entire thing wrong. You have no idea what to make of everything, it doesn't help that he stopped trying to call days ago. You almost picked up one time, heartache taking over, you let the phone ring to what seemed to be endless.

"And done, thanks" Hannah smiles, you nod at her friendliness. "Don't worry he'll be here, maybe he's just stuck in traffic" she gives you a comforting pat on the back. "Thanks for telling about that embroidery trick by the way, it really helped"

"You're welcome" you don't acknowledge her theory. Turning around, you sit back down. Patchwork jeans made of scrap fabric from Hobie's own outfit uncomfortably scrape against your legs, feet bouncing anxiously. You want to get the show over with and rip your outfit off you. Blinking away tears at the thought of you repeating your final year just because of one (not so small) hiccup.

Watching as your classmates slowly filter out to the audience area to watch their creations walk down the runway, their partners staying behind to line up. You bravely stand up, breathing heavily. Draping the blazer on your shoulder, you make your way towards the line of models, already feeling out of place.

You hear Mrs. Williams announcing the start of the show. Tuning her out, you watch the double doors as if Hobie will miraculously appear behind it. Sniffing, you slyly try to wipe the tears that's been escaping from your eyes. Lining up at the far end, you hear the music starting, one by one they walk down the runway, loud cheers can be heard from the audience as their friends hype them up.

It was supposed to be a happy occasion for everyone, finally finishing the final year with a bang but your frown says otherwise, waiting like you're in line for the guillotine.

Wringing your hands nervously, you jump at the loud bang behind you, metal doors swinging, threatening to fall right off its hinges.

Your teary eyes widen at Hobie in all his glory, sporting the outfit you unceremoniously left on his doorstep.

The white shirt that you've painted to look like it has spray painted graffiti, barbed wire design on the collar, embroidered with silver thread. On top of it, he has a red blazer, matching yours. Numerous safety pins pinned on the lapel, sleeves rolled up to his elbow. The leather vest, the pièce de résistance sways in the gust of wind.

His leg halfway up from kicking the doors open. Ripped jeans in full display, lace peeking out from under the strategically placed rips. An asymmetrical half skirt made from red plaid fabric accentuates the outfit. To your surprise, he even added his own twist to it, wearing accessories that compliments your work. You find your own belt on his hips, belt buckle shining in the light. So that's where it went.

Hobie searches for you, chest heaving, looking like he ran a marathon just to get to the venue. His heart skips a beat when he finally spots you, lips parting in surprise at your clothes.

"Fuck me" he mumurs, glad he didn't yell the words out.

You stare at him flabbergasted, lips tugging into a smile. You don't have time to speak when Mrs. Williams announces your turn, saying Hobie's name instead of yours, like she has a sixth sense.

Hobie gives you a nod, conversing with him wordlessly, I've got this. Eyes staring intently at you as he passes through the curtains, loud roars and claps from the audience rings out. Peeking behind, you watch frozen as he walks like he owns the place, nonchalantly strutting the runway.

"Holy shit" You have no idea how someone can look a hundred times hotter than ever before. From where you're standing, you can see the giant spider you've stitched at the last minute on the back of his leather vest.

Hobie pauses for a second when he reaches the end of the runway, glaring at the photographer where everyone expected him to give a smolder. He turns around, determined to get back to your side.

You squeak when Hobie sees you peeking behind the curtains, Backing away, cherry earrings swinging wildly as you move. You stand alone in the middle of backstage, the place messy with discarded bags, scissors, threads and cloth.

Hobie ignores the cheering behind him, his eyes only on your form, face unreadable, taking long strides towards you. His heavy footfalls thump against the floor, acting like a countdown.

He moves as if a tether pulls him towards you.

Freezing in place, you have no idea what to do, whether to pull the loose thread or leave it completely. "Hobie, I–" he doesn't let you finish your sentence, crashing his lips to yours wordlessly. You hold your breath.

Teeth clashing to yours, Hobie holds your face with both hands, silver rings cold on your skin, afraid you'll disappear from his touch. His eyes tightly closed, he doesn't know whether it's adrenaline or the pressure of his affections for you, finally breaking the dam in one massive blast, pushing him to finally decide and kiss you. He lays his lips over yours, unmoving, waiting for you to reciprocate.

Your eyes are wide as saucers, hands floating right over his chest. Stomach in knots, heat rising to your cheeks. You're too surprised to kiss him back, he notices, pulling away. You see panic blooming on his face, breathing heavily against your lips.

"Fuck, I'm sorry" Hobie steps back, hurt written on his handsome face. Hands flying back to his sides.

"Shut the fuck up–" you quickly grab him by his vest's collar, pulling him with the same force he did, your lips meet his.

This time you kiss back, fervently. The thread is taut, snapping in the pressure.

His eyes widen for a second before he grabs the back of your neck, pulling you closer as humanly possible, his other hand holds yours that's gripping his vest tightly right above his hastening heart. He closes his eyes, savoring your lips. The idea of Unrequited love pops like a bubble in your mind, dissolving as he kisses you back.

Hobie's kisses match yours right to the beat, you pull him down by the scruff of his neck, legs tired from trying to reach him. He chuckles at your tenacity. The room filled with the sounds of your lips smacking against each other. The kiss is messy but steady, teeth gnashing, his lip piercing blocking you from feeling his entire lips, forcing you to tilt your head. The kiss was uncharted territory for the both of you but you're more than willing to explore it, you're sure Hobie feels the same, judging from how he moves with you in tandem, hand kneading at the soft skin of your nape.

Everything seems to click into place.

You don't want to pull away but your lungs are protesting against the lack of oxygen, Hobie feels like he could go on though. Reluctantly ending the kiss, you look at him breathlessly. Hobie has a growing grin on his kiss bitten lips, your lipgloss staining his.

Hobie swipes your lips with his thumb, cleaning the sheen he left on it, red staining his fingertip. "You alive in there?"

"You still have the gall to speak– after that?" You say through gulps of air.

He laughs deeply, pecking your lips once, twice, pausing for a second to admire your flustered face, he kisses again for the third time. He tries to stop again, this time you chase his lips before he could fully pull away.

Hobie chuckles deeply and full of endearment, you can feel his smile as you peck his lips.

Someone coughs loudly to get your attention, jumping away from his body, Hobie holds your hand firmly against him so that you don't fully leave his side. He glares at your professor, tapping her heeled foot impatiently.

"Whenever you're done, come outside and join the others we'll be announcing the top three" she raises a neat brow at you two, a rare smirk on her red lips.

The second she crosses the curtains, you give a knowing look at Hobie, laughing loudly. He lays his head on your shoulder, laughing with you.

"She caught us," you softly say in between laughs.

"And I'll do it again" he softly says against your soft blazer.

"Come on, let's not keep them waiting" you rub encouragingly at his arms.

He hums, leaving a quick peck on your lapel for good measure.

—

His familiar scent wafts on your right, calming your heart to a steadier beat. Hobie's arm is glued to your waist, hip to hip, holding you close. You can feel his lingering gaze on the side of your face, giving him a knowing side glance, a sly smile on your warm kiss bitten lips. For a moment you feel like you're the only two people in the crowd.

"What?" He asks coyly.

"You know what"

"Sure, Gromit" Hobie says against your hair, you playfully push him off with your hips, saving yourself from taking all the attention from your professor announcing the top three. Hobie chuckles, wrapping his arm tighter around your form, playing with the flowers on your top.

You can't seem to concentrate on what Mrs Williams is talking about, mind still reeling from the kiss and his touch. His fingers fiddling with the lace of your cami doesn't help with your attention span.

People start clapping around you, copying them to look like you're listening. By how your classmates stand side by side with their models on stage, Hannah beams in second place. You give her a big thumbs up.

While everyone claps for Flash in third, another classmate jumps excitedly to first place, hugging her partner in a tight embrace.

You don't even care that you didn't win, you've got a better prize right next to you.

"You were robbed, love" He whispers in your ear, the roaring crowd makes it difficult to hear him.

"I don't care, honestly," you say giddily.

"You won in my eyes anyway" Hobie nuzzles his cheek on your hair.

"C'mon" he tugs at your belt loop, leading you towards the exit. You follow, grinning widely.

"Excuse me! You in red!" Someone yells for you, looking over your shoulder, you see a tall man in an expensive looking suit, tailored just for him. "Yeah you, hi"

"Hello," you politely smile, "what can I do for you?"

"Yes, I'm a friend of your professor, Mrs. Williams. You caught my attention with your style and we would love you at our fashion house." He hands you a business card. "It's all in there, I'm sorry I don't have time to talk right now" on cue Mrs. Williams beckons him over, "but I'll be here on campus looking for new designers, so call and let me know. Or just ask Caroline– I mean Williams"

"Thanks, I'll look into it. Mr?" You read the card, recognizing the name of the brand. "Mr. Riley" finishing your sentence.

He nods with a smile, "oh, we're also looking for models, if you're interested–" Mr. Riley gestures towards Hobie who cuts him off before he could finish his spiel.

"Not interested" Hobie grits his teeth, impatiently tugging you away.

"Alrighty! Bye!" Riley looks terrified, walking away with a slouched posture.

"I think you scared him off" You playfully shove him.

"Don't care." He rolls his eyes "Where are we off to? Yours or mine?" Hobie fixes your cherry earrings to face the right side, warm fingers staying on the shell of your ear.

"Ours" you correct him, smiling widely, eyes full of fondness for the man right in front of you.

"Right," He mirrors your smile, beaming at you, "ours"

—

Hobie watches you through his side mirror, grinning from ear to ear at how you tightly wrap your arms around his waist. Your eyes closed in content, a ghost of a smile on your lips.

Hobie stops at a red light, he taps your hand curled around the other, getting your attention.

"Yeah?" You tilt your head to face him.

Hobie wishes he can rotate his head much further just to face you fully. "Checkin' to see if you're still with me. Thought you fell off"

"Bullshit, you would've noticed" you chuckle.

"You got me" he smiles, "hold on" Hobie feels a slight tug, looking up, the light turns green. His new found enhanced senses have perks.

The bike lurches forward, Hobie drives carefully, he has precious cargo after all. You notice, snuggling closer to his back as a thank you.

The wind nips at your face, Hobie makes sure to avoid potholes, slowing down before he hits speed humps. Holding your hand every time he stops at a red light.

Finally reaching home, Hobie gets off first before he helps you down. Hand reaching for yours.

"One kiss and you're suddenly a gentleman" you tease him, taking his hand in yours, palm hot against your cold one; melting the chill right off.

"Snog me more and you'll find out how much of a gentleman I can be" Hobie waits for your flustered face, instead he sees you smirk, a playful glint in your eyes.

"Oh I intend to find out" tapping his chest, you leave Hobie standing dumbfounded on the sidewalk, you step over to the houseboat. Laughing triumphantly.

"Fuckin' hell" he mumbles out, flexing his hand.

"Come on! I'm hungry!" You wave him over, bouncing on the balls of your feet. You can't believe the last time you were here you had your heart shattered, trying not to think about it, you intend to ask him without ruining the mood.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get pissy" Hobie unlocks the door, opening it for you to step inside.

There's tools and mechanical parts on what looks like a new coffee table, stopping in your tracks, you look at Hobie in confusion.

"Huh?"

"What?" He scratches at the back of his neck, looking at you through narrowed eyes, daring you to ask.

"Are you making a robot or something?" You dare ask.

"No, just tryin' to fix my answering machine" he huffs, picking up fallen tiny jagged edged pieces so you don't accidentally step on them.

Unlacing your boots, you take in your surroundings, taking note of the difference since you were last in his houseboat. The door to his bedroom is missing, the wooden floors looked like it was scrubbed till it's nothing but splinters, leaving marks on the wood, the once rickety table now a pile of mess on the corner.

"Should I even ask?" You raise a curious brow.

"Ask" Hobie gestures for you to go on.

"What the fuck happened here? It looks like a tornado wrecked the place. And where's your bloody door?!" You walk towards his room to find sheets thrown about, bed littered with the same metal parts and various sizes of screwdrivers. He's clearly obsessing over his machine.

Hobie sighs, he has no idea how to explain it to you, so he doesn't try. He decides to just lie about it, for now at least. You wouldn't even believe him, right?

"Found out why this place was so cheap" he internally apologizes to Finn for throwing him under the bus. "The door has rotten hinges, faucet's fucked, sprayed water all over the bloody place, that's why the floor looks like that. I slipped and fell to that table, almost broke my hip"

"Oh" you exhale, trying to get the words out. "When was this?" You put two and two together, yet you still ask.

Hobie notices your change in mood, taking a few steps closer to you after he drops the metal objects on the coffee table. He starts the difficult conversation for you. "When you ran" he tries not to make you feel guilty, "it was a misunderstanding, love"

"Shit," you close your eyes as if you're in pain.

"No one was here, it was the damn answering machine goin' haywire." Continuing his explanation, Hobie raises his arms to you, waiting for you to move on your accord, careful not to have a repeat scenario. "No one was here, yeah?"

"I'm a fucking Idiot" you move to embrace him, "'m sorry" sniffing, voice thick with guilt, you hold him closer. "I should've waited–"

"None of that from you. We're both bloody idiots for taking this long" he softly says near your ear, breath fanning over your skin, calming you down.

"I just thought…after the museum–"

"I know," he pulls away, cupping your face in his hand, "you should've seen me in here. It was like some looney tunes shit"

"Oh, I would pay good money to see that" you lean into his touch. After a beat you continue. "I'm sorry you had a shitty morning, then I had to add to it"

"Stop," Hobie shakes you in his arms, "let me get this straight with you, more direct, yeah?" You nod, waiting for him to continue. "You're it for me, no one else matters" your eyes get glassy, "That voice?" He points at the damned answering machine, laying open on the settee. "Absolutely do not care for her. She's just a friend of the band, nothin' more" He makes good on his own promise, committing to it.

"I saw her on you before the concert" you say in a small voice. "I was…" shaking your head, you spot Terry perched on the floor of his bedroom. It would be easy for you to grab him to help find your words but you don't. Bravely choosing to stay in his arms. "Hurt, I know I didn't have the right to be. But…I don't fucking know" frustrated, you thump your head on his chest.

"I know," he understands, embracing you tighter, trying to absorb your pain so that you don't feel it anymore, for your sake. "I'm sorry" Hobie apologizes, voice muffled by your hair. "Sorry" he says much clearer this time, exhaling a shaky breath.

Hobie apologizes for everything, from entertaining Lacey to taking this long to say how he truly feels for you and everything in between. His hand lays comfortably on your back, rubbing softly. You feel at home in his arms.

You don't know what he's apologizing for since you think it's your own fault, but you still accept, not knowing how to ask him. Instead, you savor his warmth, leather scratching your cheeks.

After a few seconds, you pull away, hands holding his face like a fine jewel. You take a few breaths, admiring his face, tracing the lines on his skin, you want to wipe all the worry off his face. Hobie closes his eyes, heartbeat syncing with yours.

He opens his eyes, staring at you like you're the moon in the night sky, out of reach but mesmerizing nonetheless.

"You hungry?" Hobie clears his throat, pulling away. He kisses your knuckles before he heads to the kitchen, no idea that he just stopped you from saying your piece.

You stand in the middle of his room, lips pouting. "I was gonna kiss you, you absolute knobhead"

Hobie stops in his tracks, he plays along, hands on his hips, acting exasperated. "That right?"

"Don't make me beg" you frown, actually serious.

He chuckles at your cute expression, "I just thought you were hungry, can't let my girl starve"

My girl, you're done for. Your breath hitches in your throat, skin on fire. "I am hungry" you sigh, surrendering, you'll get that kiss after dinner even if it kills you. Your Index finger scratches at your nail polish painted on your thumb nail, shyness creeping back again.

Hobie bites his lip, also yearning to give you what you really want. He reels himself in, opening the fridge, cold wafts onto his hot skin. His eyes leave your face for a moment.

"Fuck" he finds it empty besides some bottled water and a half eaten burger.

"Christ, you live like this?" You suddenly appear by his side, grimacing at the bare fridge. "Looks like you need a roommate to keep you in check, huh?" You take a personal mission to rile him up again just to see his rare bewildered face even if for only a split second.

"D'you know anyone available?" He takes on your challenge, standing to his full height, he faces you, closing the fridge door with his foot.

"I think I know someone" you smile prettily at him, making grabby hands over to him.

"If I give you a bloody kiss will you buy us a shawarma?" Hobie steps in your arms, you immediately wrap yourself around his waist.

"Let's just say I'll make it worth your while" looking up at him, your lips curling into a teasing smirk.

"Look how far I've fallen, the things I have to do just so I don't starve" he holds your chin, fingers warm on your already searing skin. Leaning closer to your face.

"You ass!" You laugh, pinching his abdomen, finding a wall of muscle underneath his shirt. Huh, that's new, you thought. Pulling away, you narrow your eyes at Hobie. "Feels like you are starving"

"Hmm?"

"You got leaner, we're definitely ordering extra rice for you" Hobie gives you a thankful peck on the cheek, already on his way to grab the utensils.

—

Metal scraping on ceramic, you run the dirty plates on the sink as Hobie wipes down his new coffee table. You feel eyes on your back, looking over your shoulder, he watches you, eyes full of endearment.

"I'm almost done, Hobs. Need to at least run it with water or it'll stink in the morning" you beam back, eyes crinkling in the corners.

Hobie's heart swells at the domesticity of it all, imagining the house with traces of you in it. He could put your sewing machine in the corner near the window so you could get proper light. He imagines your shampoo side by side with his bottle in the small shower, favourite Mug next to his chipped ones. Your perfume lingering in the air, staying with him wherever he goes.

"Love" he says quietly like a secret to be kept between you. You hum in acknowledgement, rinsing the cups.

He calls your name this time, not love, not Gromit or Cherry, your name. He says it with so much love laced in it you forgot that it's yours for a second.

You turn off the faucet, splashing your hands on the sink. Turning around, you give him a soft smile. "Yeah?"

Hobie pats the cushion next to him, "C'mere" you don't miss a beat, already walking towards the settee. "I can do that tomorrow" he holds his arms towards you.

You place yourself in his hold, enveloping you like warm sunlight. Sitting in comfortable silence, ignoring how the lumpy couch pokes your legs.

"I saw you by the way" you break the silence. He moves his head on top of yours, making a point that he's listening. "In the parking lot, a few days ago"

"Why didn't you say anythin'?" Hobie doesn't sound angry, just forlorn at the thought of you intentionally ignoring him.

"I didn't know what to say" you finally look at him, eyes as big as the plates you were rinsing. "Then Peter came up to me–I," you exhale, "I'm a coward, Hobie. I should've at least tried to talk to you"

"Honestly, I didn't know what I was gonna say to you that day" He rubs a stray eyelash from your cheek. "I wouldn't know what would've happened if we did talk"

"Sorry for not answering your calls and barring you from my dorm" you apologize again, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"Don't be," he kisses the crown of your head, assuring you.

"If it's any consolation…" you sniff, tamping down the tears threatening to spill. "Peter found out that the spider that bit you wasn't a regular one"

"What?"

"Yeah, he's a biology major, really likes spiders for some reason. Met him through an old study group. Anyway, he said it was some kind of mix? Not sure, but he practically gushed about it" you play with the lace on his pants while you ramble.

"Did he elaborate?" Hobie's fully invested, any clues to what's rushing in his veins right now is very much appreciated.

"The thing is, he didn't know what mix it was or how that sort of thing could happen. He called it a freak of nature" you chuckle. "You're fine though, right? You didn't feel weird or anything?" Rubbing his arm in concern, brows knitting together.

"It got a bit itchy but that's it" it hurts him to lie to you, but even Hobie himself doesn't completely know what's happening to his body. Just to be safe, he won't tell you, until he can figure it out at least.

"Okay, good" You lay your head back down on his chest with the intention to finally tell him how you truly feel for him. "Hobie, I–"

"You look good by the way– shit sorry go on" he accidentally cuts you off.

"No, you were complimenting me so please go on" your lips curl into a mischievous smile. Staring at him head on.

Hobie scoffs, rolling his eyes, smiling through it all. "I said you look bloody fit" he eyes your outfit a few seconds longer than he intended.

"You look really handsome," you turn his compliment around, "like holy shit, mate. It's unfair how good you looked on the runway"

"Mate? You havin' a laugh? Who you callin' mate?" He pokes your waist. "I just confessed my undying love for you and you're out here callin' me 'mate'?" Your giggling stops when he says that word.

"You love me?" You ask, face serious. Your pulse beats rapidly, palms sweaty.

"Yeah, too much I think" Too much for you. He thinks, afraid of stifling you with his love. He tried to play it off. Hobie doesn't throw that word around loosely but he has said it in his mind to you a thousand times before, it feels routine by now.

"I don't think it's too much" your eyes are starting to get glossy again. "I think it's the right amount"

You suddenly feel anxious saying it back, yet it's Hobie, your Hobie who taught you how to tie your shoelaces properly so that other kids won't make fun of your velcro trainers. Hobie who was there for you when you had your heart broken for the first time. Hobie who you came to love more with every passing year with him. Your Hobie.

"You don't have to say it back" He says with a small smile, voice thick, "won't force you–"

"You're a fucking idiot, Hobart Brown" you say, clinging to his shirt that you've lovingly made just for him, every stitch you've poured in has love written all over it. "And I love you too"

You lean in, eyes closed, hands placed fondly on his cheeks. This time, you're the one who takes his breath away. Hobie sighs into the kiss, content, feeling your emotions through it all.

This one felt more proper, more familiar than the first one, made sweeter with the love confession. No rushing, no one finally interrupting the moment, and yet still slightly unfamiliar, good thing you have a willing partner to get familiar with. Getting used to the kiss, you swipe your tongue, encouraging him to not hold back.

He kisses back fervently, warm and slow with no ounce of urgency. Hobie's stomach is in knots, hands flying to cup your face.

You move your leg over to his lap, straddling him. Hobie lets out a sound from the back of his throat as his shoulder blade hits the armrest of the sofa.

Pulling away, "Is this okay?" You tentatively ask, waiting for any signs of apprehension from Hobie.

"Yes" He says breathlessly, you can see stars in his eyes. Smiling, leaning down to continue kissing him.

Strong hands steadying you, yet still holding you respectfully, avoiding the bare skin where your blouse rode up. Electricity tingles from Hobie's fingertips, shocking you slightly through your blouse, you take it as your nerves acting up.

You feel a tear escape, it slides down on your cheek, landing directly on Hobie's thumb that's been caressing your skin. He pulls back, worried.

"I'm okay" you say, breathless, eyes roaming his concerned face. Another tear rolls down on your soft skin, "they're happy tears," smiling, more tears flow out of your eyes that's crinkling in the corners.

Hobie looks up at you with so much love, your heart inflates tenfold. He has a lopsided smile, eyes mirroring yours.

"Stay with me tonight?" He wipes your tears for you, careful with his rings.

Your eyes narrow at him teasingly, mustering your best flirty smile, brows wiggling, you wordlessly have a conversation with Hobie.

"Fuck off" He laughs breathlessly, "I didn't mean it like that" you felt the vibration on his chest when he laughed, laying down fully on him, eyes practically shaped like hearts, you follow through with your own laugh.

"I've never thought confessing would be so tiring" you joke, yawning for effect.

it's contagious, he follows your yawn with his own. "It's because we've been doing a lot of snogging"

"Mm-hmm, it's definitely better than exercise. More fun too"

"Wanna exercise again?" He rolls his dice.

"I could burn some calories" You play along, giggling against his waiting lips. Hobie rolls a perfect twenty.

A/N: LET'S GOOOOOO 🎉

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it, reblogging encourages me to write more ❤️

That’s my lion shaped son right there you see him he’s so precious

Also it took me so long to register that Yarnaby’s a child i thought that’s just some creature I’m even sadder now…

The Fall

Pairing: fae! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: On going

Synopsis: You've never thought taking a house sitting job would land you somewhere a human shouldn't be in.

Tags: Fae! Hobie, Fem! Reader, no specific physical description of the reader, TW blood, CW injury, horror elements, TW gore, Fae AU, specific warnings will be added to every part.

*I don't consent to having my work translated published on other platforms and copy pasted on any Ai software*

*all pictures are sourced from pinterest*

Navigation

Masterlist

Part I - Mudwood Manor.

Part II - He Beckons.

Part III - Scarlet Leaves

Ending I -

Ending II -

Reblog banner by @/cafekitsune

Sailing Close to the Wind

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 8.2k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW food mention, CW violence, TW injury.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 5 >>> CHAPTER 6

Trousers, oh you'd love to kiss the person who invented trousers. You can't climb a mast with heavy cotton skirts especially without anyone below getting a full look at what's under it. Not to mention how comfortable it is, granted it's technically not your trousers, it's a bit big on the waist so you have to use a rope and some type of knot that James taught you. The cotton shirt and lambskin vest makes you look like an honest to god pirate, you fit right in, if only you could get up on the perch without falling.

The wind is breezing by you as you find leverage with your foot on the iron footholds, your hands are clammy, eyes strained against the sun and wind. The height thrills you, reminding you of the time when you used to jump all-over roofs to escape coppers.

“Hurry up, gorgeous! I'm bleeding up here!” Yuri screams from the top, showing you her so-called injury on her palm. It's bleeding, yes but it definitely does not need any stitching.

You swear she's messing with you. Training you perhaps? But it wouldn't matter as you won't stay on the revenge for too long. According to Miles, land is close, a couple of days at most. You secretly hope it's more than two, you're liking your stay on Hobie's ship, dare you say you're quite fond of having the crew around. Minus all the rival pirates and navy ships attacking the revenge, maybe you'll love it more here if those events don't happen on a daily basis.

There's a sense of security on the ship or maybe you're just beginning to get used to the routine and you just don't want the routine to get derailed by leaving the ship.

Even with all the dangers of staying on a pirate ship, you'd like to stay a few more days on it.

Your mind flies back during the crew meeting a week ago while you're slowly making your way up towards the crow’s nest. You can still feel everyone's eyes on you but you've only got your eyes clocked on to Hobie's intense look, he's determined, lips curling into a smirk as he says your name in front of the crew.

“Lastly, we're gonna need scuttlebutt, she's the only person not known to the navy in the colony.” Hobie's voice tells the crew but his gaze stays on you.

“She'll be our distraction then?” Ned asks.

You suddenly feel sweaty in front of everyone's eyes.

“Aye, we've already discussed her part. She knows what she's gonna do.” He stares at you intently, addressing you only. “After that you can finally get back on land.” You nod, slowly. Hobie finally looks away from you, speaking to the crew.

“Everyone else just needs to follow her lead. This isn't your first heist, you all know how to work with each other, keep up with the plan and we'll get the documents we need.”

“Remember, distraction,” Gwen glances at you briefly, “no guns inside, we get in the governor's office, get the plans, we get in and we get out quick.” Gwen speaks up from Hobie's right, her tone is serious, the low lamps swaying in the ship's movement makes shadows dance on her face.

“After that a round in the tavern, right?!” Two-fingers shout from the corner, most of the crew cheers with him.

“If we do everything right.” To everyone's dismay, Hobie corrects the cheering crew.

Yuri faces Hobie with a stern look. “Then after that we get the bastard, we get our bloody revenge, and then we're done.” you feel the tension filling the cramped space. “We go back to what we used to do.” Hobie observes her quietly, “The sea is calling and we better fucking answer, am I right cap'n?”

Hobie inhales, you could only get a glimpse of his anger flash across his face. “Then we answer the call”

The sudden rhythmic stomping from the crew makes you jump, Pavitr turns to you, whispering close. “So you've already discussed it with the captain, huh?” he wiggles his brows.

“Really, Pav?”

He continues to wiggle his eyebrows that are weirdly flexible. “Is that all you've discussed? Orrrr” You roll your eyes.

“Pav?”

“Yeah?”

“Go jump overboard”

“If that will get you to stay then I will jump overboard.” He happily says, skipping away from you.

“Wait what—?”

Yuri reaches down, flexing her ringed fingers for you. “C’mon landlubber, I'll help you up before the wind takes you.” her voice brings you back to reality.

You take her hand, “Thanks, how did I do?”

“You climb like my old hamster. Very cute but not very fast.” Heaving you up, you finally reach the bird's nest.

The circular space is filled with random stuff hanging from the banisters. A sextant hangs on a ribbon on your right, an old telescope swings in the wind, hitting your shin. The basket of yarn sits by your feet, a pair of knitting needles lay next to it.

“Thanks?” you look around and the view takes your breath away, the sun shines brightly painting the open water in watercolor light. There's nothing but blue as far as your eyes could see, you've never felt tinier in your entire life.

Waves heading in different directions, seagulls circling above the ship, providing a chorus of unending squawking.

“You're welcome, pretty.” She sits down on a tiny stool, palm up. “Before I bleed out.”

You chuckle. “You're not gonna bleed out,” taking a bandage and ointment from your handy dandy trouser pocket, you squat in front of Yuri. “It's just a scratch, and here I thought pirates are all tough.”

“Am I a pirate? Haven't felt like it recently.”

You look up at her, pausing from treating her wound. “What do you mean by that? Of course you're a pirate.”

“You look like a pirate too, Y/N, but logically speaking, you're not one of us.”

“Touché” you continue to bandage her hand, there's a sudden weight in your chest. “And here I thought you're not a pirate?” You throw back her own words.

She laughs, the sound akin to tiny bells twinkling. “Oh I'm gonna miss you and your wit.”

You smile genuinely, “and my medical prowess too?”

“That and more, doc.”

“Yuri, can I ask you a question before I inevitably leave?”

She stretches her hand, trying out the bandages. “Finally!” You jump slightly. “And here I thought you would pass asking me all your incessant questions.”

“Am I that annoying?”

“Oh no you're not, don't worry, darling. We're just not used to having new comers, the last time we had one was a while ago. And that was Danny, bleh.”

“Great, and here I thought everyone hates it when I ask questions.”

“They do,” you blink, “but if they ever complain they get a stare down from Gwen so they let you be curious.”

You bite back a laugh.

Yuri crosses a leg over the other. “So what is your question? I'm dying to know.”

You clear your throat. “During the meeting–?”

“Ah that!” She leans on the railing, shoulders relaxed, face facing the sun as it bathes her in sunlight. “The whole revenge thing has put a stop to our usual…” Yuri thinks of an appropriate word. “Adventures, that's why I just want it done and over with. Three years chasing the king's flame is too long, don't you think?”

“The king's flame?” You try to recall his real name that you've read a few times in the newspaper. “Captain Mathias something something.”

“Oh he's something alright, got our captain's knickers in a bunch for three straight boring years.” She pauses to look at you through her eyelashes. “I hate the wanker as much as the crew but my god I just want to bring him down as soon as possible.”

Sighing, she squeezes the bridge of her nose. “The navy attack was a blessing in disguise I suppose, if not for the lieutenant singing we wouldn't get the information about his little travel directory.”

You nod. “You just want to go back to pirating, I get it now.”

She hums. “That's why I like you so much”

You look away embarrassed, clearing your throat, you continue. “About the whole revenge thing? Everyone dances around it every time I ask and—”

“Maybe you'll find out if you stay long enough.” She smiles, a genuine one without a hint of flirting. “We need you y’know.”

“I know but I've got my own path to follow.”

“Screw following your path!” She waves you away, clicking her tongue. You frown at her. “I know you're starting to like it here. Look, I'm not opposed to you staying, I haven't seen this crew this healthy in a loooong while. Not to mention, Hobie bounced back real quick after all the attacks. Morale is at an all time high.”

“Only because he had less to worry about, like the crew dying of infection and disease.” you scoff.

“No, it's the opposite, he has more to worry about.”

You quirk a brow questioningly.

“You're asking the wrong questions, doc.”

“And what questions should I ask then?”

“Why did the hellion flee? They clearly had us, they just had to sail to us, back up the smaller ship but they didn't, they stayed behind, watching.”

You blink slowly, contemplating. “This didn't come up during the meeting. Have you told Hobie?”

“Of course I have and he reacts the same way every time I express my concerns about his revenge plan.” She shakes her head. “Fuckin’ indifferent.”

“I can tell him, maybe he'll listen.”

Yuri gives you a look, a neat eyebrow raised, lips straight. “Please, he might actually throw you overboard this time. We've tried that, love, trust me nothing's holding him back. He'll only stop once he gets his hands on the captain and I don't think even death itself will stop him either.”

“What did the navy do to him to warrant that?”

“Y’know what,” she stands up, stretching her back. “Go back down to the deck, Hobie's been staring at us for a while and I think his iris is burned from staring too close to the sun for too long.”

Sure enough, you look down to see Hobie knocking on the wooden mast, the sound reverberates upwards. He looks tinier from up where you are.

“Come down here and make yourself useful!” his hands are cupped around his mouth, yelling out.

Staring back at Yuri, she busies herself with her knitting, crafting a dark blue scarf. She waves you off wordlessly, eyes trained on her craft.

You climb down carefully, making sure your foot has leverage and your hands properly holding onto the steel bars.

Your mind filters through more questions, why would the crew not just answer you directly? Why does everyone compare you to the mysterious MJ? What is up with Hobie and the navy—?

A strong gust of wind suddenly blows past. With your hands slipping off the metal, feet unhooking from the foothold, you fall. Barely letting out a sound, you close your eyes, bracing for impact.

But you don't land on the floor with a harsh splat, instead you feel strong arms enveloping you, a hand gripping onto your thighs tightly, fingers spread across your shoulder, holding and tender on your skin.

“Fuckin' hell!” You hear someone yell.

Cracking an eye open, you see Hobie's furrowed brows, chest heaving. After seeing you alright, his face morphs into the most smug look you've ever seen. His lips curling into a smirk, eyes crinkling in the corners, dimples in full display. With his eyes full of wordless teasing, he opens his mouth with confidence.

“Got you fallin’ for me now, hmm?” The sun shines behind him, giving him a heavenly halo above his head. You swear you want to punch it off his face.

Shoving yourself off his arms, he drops you unceremoniously, you land on your behind with an ‘oomph’. Hobie looks down at you with a growing smile, hands tucked in his pants, his casual shirt dances with the wind, giving you a full show of his exposed chest. You sneer at him, wanting to tug the strings on his shirt to close it and maybe strangle him with it.

“A thank you would be great” He snickers, “saved your life a few times now. We should have a board here that tallies it all down.”

You stand up, pretending to dust yourself off but in truth, your tailbone hurts. “I fell from six feet, I would've survived, thank you very much.”

“You are very welcome, scuttlebutt” you can't believe it but he still manages to irk you.

Sucking in your teeth, you exhale, letting out your frustrations through it lest you get thrown overboard by the captain himself.

“What do you want, Hobie?”

“It's captain to you.”

“Captain” you say with gritted teeth, eyes searing holes into his shirt.

“That's better, I need help with tying the sail down. The others are unfortunately busy”

You raise an eyebrow, “why don't you do it yourself?”

“The wind’s too strong, I need someone to hold the ropes.” Hobie points at the large flapping ropes tied around the main mast, it could take someone's eye out with how wild it's moving around.

“Fine”

—

You're practically hugging the entire mast, making sure the numerous ropes stay close to the wood, the hemp ropes slap you across the face while another gust of sea wind passes through you, fluttering your lashes. You're glad that you're wearing trousers instead of the usual long skirt.

Hobie wrangles the wild cords. You can't see him but based on all the groaning and frustrated grunts, the ropes seem to be winning.

“Alright, got this one tied—fuck!” You hear a slapping sound against cloth. Silently chuckling, you'd give anything to have seen that just now.

“Hand me the next one!” He yells atop the rushing wind. You blindly take a single rope, handing it to Hobie's side.

Waves crash on the side of the ship, rocking you back and forth. Good thing you're already holding on to something strong.

He grabs it, his hands grazing your palms. It's warm, warmer than you thought it would be, you feel his calluses and all the history around it.

This continues on until you're only holding onto one rope, you've practically memorized every indent and lines on his hands and palms. Hobie ties the last rope on the steel hooks, the muscles in his arms doing all the work, sweat drips on his chest, following it with your eyes. it's like seeing a carriage crash, you can't look away.

“Fuckin' hell” you fling your eyes away when you hear his tired voice, looking at anything else other than him.

You're glad no one's looking your way.

The wind whips your warm cheeks, incredibly thankful to mother nature, you look back at Hobie, avoiding his sweat covered chest.

“Last one, scuttlebutt.” He flexes his hand towards you, smiling brighter than the searing sun. Why was he so happy when he was attacked by hemp cables a few minutes ago?

Before you could give it to him, Hobie had a better idea. “Why don't you do this one? Learn how to properly tie a knot.”

“James already taught me”

He beams, “that's good then, go do it.” Moving aside, Hobie gives you ample space to tie the cord.

You begin to twist it around the hook, looping it around itself. Hobie sighs behind you, looking over your shoulder, he has his hands on his hips.

“Continue, let me see what he taught you, yeah?”

Going back to your knot, you recall James’ instructions, over and under, twist it around then tie it together. You're done, looking behind you, Hobie grins, nodding.

“Adequate.”

The pride in your chest dissipates. “Really?” You scoff out.

“Good, but not enough, here.” He walks towards you, standing so close to you that your elbows kiss his.

You smell sea salt and the distinctive wound ointment.

Hobie unties the last knot, “focus here,” he tethers it differently, practiced hands gliding along the rope. “Got it?”

“Y-yeah.”

He unties it again, handing it back to you. “Let me see then.”

You side eye him. “I saw it.”

“Prove it then” he smirks, leaning sideways on the mast, arms crossed on his chest.

You bind it together like he did, hands suddenly clammy, face full of concentration. “There?”

“Not quite. Let me?” He closes the small distance, hands gesturing towards the rope, you nod thinking he's about to show it to you again. Instead he takes your hands in his. Careful and gentle like a flower petal kissing your hands.

Hobie uses your own hands to tether the rope around the steel, your mind has never clouded this much but you're determined to listen this time or he might not leave your hands alone.

“D’you have it, scuttlebutt?”

You clear your throat before speaking. “Y-yeah”

He unknots it once again so you could do it yourself. Holding the rope makes you sweat more as his eyes observe you. You follow through, finally doing it perfectly, it's a bit wonky, leaning to the side but at least it's secure.

Hobie chuckles, clasping your shoulder briefly, not a second more. “Good job.”

You blink, “thanks”

He walks away, leaving you on the spot.

—

The revenge drops anchor further away than the main docks. You've arrived a day earlier than you thought. With your small bag of belongings, you grip it tightly in your hand. You haven't been this further south in your entire life. The air is humid and warm, the trees more scarce.

The anchor clinks against the chains, with one strong push of the large wheel by Finn, the metal comes tumbling down to the depths with a splash.

A ramp is brought down to the side of the ship, it bangs loudly on the asphalt. The crew rolls down barrels upon crates of things down as you watch on with a clenched jaw.

“You'll do great.” Gwen makes you jump in place, she looks at you apologetically. “Don't be nervous, I know you won't fuck up.”

“Thanks?”

She slaps your back, “No problem.”

“Ow” you rub at the small of your back.

One by one they walk off the ship, stretching their arms, some hoot and holler. The late afternoon sun doesn't help with your nervous sweats as you carefully make your way down the ramp.

Finally standing on solid ground, you wobble a bit on your feet, too used to the rhythmic rocking of the ship.

Hobie jumps off the ramp following after you, his boots thud against the ground, heavy leather coat scraping by his shoes. His usual hair is tied in a ponytail hidden under a tricorn hat.

“Is this supposed to be your disguise?” You question him.

He whirls around, smiling almost immediately. “You'll be surprised at how many people don't recognize me in this.”

“Sure–” A crowd of children saunters over to the crew. Your eyes widen at the sight, their faces unafraid, giggling amongst themselves. “Uhh?” You point.

Hobie twists around, bringing your hand down for you. “Calm down, they can smell fear.”

“W-what?” You hide behind Hobie's large coat.

“You're all a sight for sore eyes, eh?!” Hobie bends at the knees while the children greet him with smiles and high fives. Pav and the rest of the crew join in, laughing while some happily chat with them.

“Open the crates,” Hobie calls above the chatter. “Give them the supplies.” He holds a child by his feet, swinging him while more children gather around him, calling for Hobie to swing them around too.

You watch quietly as the crew gives the gaggle of children some food, blankets and coins.

“How's your mum?” You hear Hobie ask a brown haired child. She whispers to him timidly. “Yeah? That's good, give her this bag, tell her it's for medicine.” Hobie hands her a clinking bag, the girl nods, smiling at Hobie.

Your heart warms at the sight, Finn gives the children piggy back rides as he gives them bread that you helped bake. Gwen talks quietly with a silver haired boy, Miles fights off a handful of children as they poke his pockets for coins. Pavitr’s handing each child a fleece blanket, laughing as he covers their heads with it.

You can't believe your own eyes.

A brown eyed girl tugs at your jacket. Looking down, you smile politely at her. Kneeling down to her height, she gives you her best puppy dog eyes.

“I know you're good but give it back, please?” You say while you offer her your open hand.

Her facade breaks, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” she hands you back your coin pouch.

“Need more practice,” you chuckle, standing to your full height.

“Ugh, I know!” She skips off, heading towards Ned.

“That's Estelle, quite a pickpocket huh?” Hobie appears next to you, a couple of children clinging on to each of his legs.

“Yeah, caught her with my coins though.”

“She needs more practice”

You laugh, “that's exactly what I told her.”

Hobie smiles, there's a comfortable silence between you. Just watching everyone interact with the children, more people arrive on the dock, both children and adults alike. They smile and wave. Surprisingly, Hobie waves back with a bigger smile. The children on his legs run off to what looks like their parents. Your smile falters.

Something pokes your side, you look down, finding a book poking you.

“What's this?” you ask, taking the book from Hobie.

“Farewell gift, I figured I won't have the time to give it to you after we take the papers”

Reading the title, you giggle, a smile coming back to your lips.

“‘How to conquer your fears volume five: Learn how to swim by Sir Riordan of Canterbury’ of course it's this book. I can't believe it took him five volumes to write this one.”

“Thought you might need it on your adventures.” He turns to you fully, eyes roaming around your face.

You're about to thank him, despite everything that happened, he let you stay, if it was any other pirate ship you'd be dead. Before you could say your piece, Hobie holds out his hand for you to shake.

“Good luck, Scuttlebutt. I can't say you were a pleasure on board but I'm glad you're not navy” you take his hand, shaking it, he tugs you closer, whispering in your ear, his breath fanning across your cheek. Sea salt and leather captures your senses.

“I better see you later or I'll—’’

“Or you'll hunt me down, I know, follow the plan. I won't let them down.” You lean away, cheeks warm, hand still holding his. “I promise.”

His grey eyes swirl, smiling at you. “Good, you're learning.”

“Surviving” nodding, you don't back down from his stare. “I'm just surviving.” you clasp his hand tighter like a hidden threat before you let go.

—

A shot rings out. You scream bloody murder before running frantically out the dim alleyway, sprinting towards the guards guarding the manor. Your barebones shoes clack on the rocks, feeling the jagged edges through your soles, you keep running, calling for help. Frantic shadows dance around your peripheral, footsteps as quiet as the night.

Reaching the silver gates, you bang on the metal. “Guards!” You screech, a couple of young guards sprint towards you, muskets raised in your direction.

“Stop right there! This is private property!” One says, you can smell the ale on his mouth from where you're standing.

This will be easier than you thought. Hopefully.

You heave, playing the part of a damsel in distress. “It's my brother! He's been shot, please help him!” Taking the younger guard’s hands through the metal gate, you flutter your eyelashes. “Please.”

They look at eachother, muskets pointed away from you. You grip his gloved hand tighter for emphasis. Wordlessly, they converse, eyes flitting between you and the manor.

“Please I just need someone to carry him to the hospital.” You shakily take your coin pouch out, the contents clinking against each other. “I can pay,” your eyes water. “I can pay both of you.”

With a nod and a smirk from the older guard, they open the gate, promptly closing it behind them.

“Thank you! Oh thank you!” Leading them towards the alleyway, you speed walk back. “This way, hurry!”

They obediently follow you into the dark.

You step into the darkness, they look around the empty alleyway, “oi! Where's—?”

Yuri emerges from the darkness accompanied by Finn, their guns drawn pointing it right at the guards’ temple.

“Don't move,” Yuri says with a tilt of her head. “Or…you know what happens next.”

You look away before a metal hits flesh in a sickening thwack! They drop harshly on the ground, your cue to look back.

Finn drags the bodies further into the alleyway, away from any prying eyes. You step to the side, giving him space.

“Good job, have you ever thought of a career in theatre?” Yuri asks, sporting two new muskets strapped to her back.

You wipe your eyes free of unshed tears. “I'll think about it.”

“This is it then, landlubber? I really hope I see you again.” She holds your elbow, surprisingly, you don't flinch away.

You fondly smile at her, “Me too, Yuri but I think I'm still needed here.” Your trouser pocket clink as you tap it.

Meanwhile, Hobie and the trio sneak into the manor that's now left unguarded. They go around the large home, finding a servant's back door. Gwen jiggles the doorknob.

“It's locked.” She whispers, kneeling down, she takes a lockpick from her belt. Hobie and the others watch her back.

After numerous tries, the lock pick breaks. Gwen clicks her tongue, taking out another lockpick.

Seven lockpicks later, sweat dribbles on Gwen's neck, the door still sits locked. She looks at Hobie frustrated, brows knitted together.

“Hey!” You whisper shout. All four of them look at you, eyes wide, eyebrows raised. Taking out the ring of keys, you show it to them with a large grin.

Hobie jogs over to you quietly, the full moon watches his lips slowly curve into a smile. “How'd you—?”

“Pickpocketed it from the guard.” You smile back, “that's a new lock.” You gesture with your chin, whispering your words. “The usual lockpicks won't work on it. Here” giving the keys to Hobie through the gate, his hand linger on yours as he looks at you with shining eyes. “What?”

“You–” he chuckles. “You know how to pickpocket?”

“What? Like it's hard?” You joke, earning a deep laugh from Hobie.

“How do you even know about the locks?”

“Look who's asking the questions now,” you smirk. “I'm full of surprises I guess.”

After a beat, he stares into your eyes. “Stay with us”

Your heart skips a beat. “What?”

“I know you heard me, scuttlebutt.”

“I–” you consider it, but what would happen if you stayed? What would happen if you join and they still leave you down the road? It's better to go now and save yourself from the heartache.

“I can't” you let his hand go. “I have to go. Good luck, Hobie”

Walking away, you didn't miss how his smile falters.

It's better this way.

—

The smell of the musty tavern brings you back. A plate of ham and beans left almost untouched, it's not the same as Finn's. it tastes like tree bark compared to your meals on the ship. Huddled in a corner, you mindlessly read the book Hobie gave you, its pages pristine and well taken cared of.

You shut it closed, with your eyes growing heavy, you wonder where you're going to be sleeping tonight.

The doors bang open, a loud rambunctious group saunters in, yelling for drinks.

“First round’s on Gwen!” Someone shouts.

“I don't even drink, you fucker!” Gwen shouts back.

Wait, Gwen?

“Gwen?” You mumble.

Like fate, Gwen finds you amidst the crowd. Her eyes widen right before a smile replaces it.

Pavitr yells your name first, pointing at you like he hasn't seen you in years. Everyone follows his finger, the rest of them cheer, pushing patrons away to get to you. James shoves Danny out of the way, taking the closest seat next to you.

Ned grabs both of them by the hem of their shirts, “give her some space, fuckin' hell!”

You give him a smile as thanks, he nods once, mock saluting you.

Yuri guffaws loudly. “I knew it! We're meant to be together, eh?” She shakes your shoulder, planting a loud smooch on top of your head. You giggle, waving her away.

“Alright, let's all calm down.” You laugh loudly, “Mug, watch your stitches!”

“Sorry,” he murmurs.

Gwen sits next to you with a small smile while half of the group head on to the bar to order their alcohol.

“How'd it go?” You whisper to her, “where's Hobie?”

“Everything went well.” Her eyes darted all over the place. “Hobie went back to the ship to store the papers.”

“What's wrong?” You look around, trying to find what's gotten her nervous. “You alright?”

“Yeah, it's just—I don't know.”

“It was too easy.” Miles pipes up, handing Gwen a cup of something warm.

“That,” she nods as thanks to Miles, sighing. “He's right, it seemed too easy. We sneaked in, never making a sound.” She whispers closely. “We only saw three housekeepers in the entire manor and you know how these officials are.” you nod. “I'm just keeping an eye out for everyone, just in case.”

“That's why we chose this tavern, it's far from the manor.” Miles explains. “What are you doing here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be out and adventuring right now? Y’know ‘finding yourself’” he makes quotation marks with his fingers.

“I was just resting. Am I not allowed to rest?” You sarcastically say.

“Oh I'm not gonna miss you on board.” He sips from his cup.

“Sure, say how's that tea taste? Like shit right? I bet you're gonna miss the brew I always make for you” you ask with a teasing smile. Gwen chuckles next to you.

“You're horrible.” he says into his cup of swirling dark liquid. A ghost of a smile hiding behind the ceramic.

A bundled loaf of bread drops in front of you, almost shattering the plate of so-called ham and beans. Looking up, you see Finn nodding at you.

“Thank you, Finn.” You smile at him, he grunts in reply, heading towards the rest of the group.

Pav visibly sags into his chair, blowing his bangs out of his face.

Used to his attitude, you tilt your head, asking him. “What is it, Pav?”

“I'm tired,” he sighs. “And I'm gonna miss you.”

You feel heat behind your eyes. “I'll miss you too, Pav, and our late night talks.”

“You kept me awake,” you chortle. Pav tentatively reaches for your hand over the table, letting him in, you open your palm wordlessly. “I guess we didn't hit any rocks because of you chattering endlessly. So thank you.”

You smile, squeezing his hand once.

He drops his sadness, going back to his usual self. “Are you sure you can't stay? Come on! We've got…” he thinks for a second, finding the bread on the table he gestures towards it. “Bread!”

“A lot of places offer bread, Pav”

“Yeah, but they're not Finn's bread”

He's right, they're not Finn's, or Gwen's or Miles’ or Hobie's. They're not from the crew and nothing will ever be once you finally leave. Despite all of these, you smile, standing up with shaky legs.

“I have to go.” Your small voice echoes in their ears, they look at you with fond smiles. “Thank you, really.” You think about hugging them but you change your mind last minute, it's better this way, you say to yourself.

You wave goodbye, fighting yourself from looking back.

Exiting the tavern, the cold evening air blasts your cheeks, a tear escapes and you wipe it immediately.

“Y/N, wait!” Gwen runs after you. You stop in your tracks, looking over your shoulder with a sad smile.

You can't keep doing this, you need to leave, your mind tells you but your heart says otherwise.

“Here.” She hands you a hefty bag of coins, the pouch is pink with her name embroidered on it. “for your travels and as a thank you for helping with the crew.”

You shake your head, “I can't take this.” Pushing it back towards her. She gives you a stern look worthy of a first mate. “Gwen, I can't. Give it to the children, I don't want it.”

“You won't survive another day with what you have on you right now” before you could protest, she stuffs it into your bag. “You can pay me back when we meet again.”

You nod, “Alright, I'll pay you back. I promise”

“Good luck and I don't know if this might be helpful but we're heading north. If–if you want to come aboard again we'll be near the thousand islands. Waiting” the moonlight illuminates her sad eyes.

“Thank you, I'll think about it.” You turn around but you look back against better judgment. “Can you tell Hobie…just say thanks for me.”

“Will do Y/N.” Gwen smiles genuinely at you.

So you walk with no true destination. You roam around on your tired feet, waiting until something happens, you don't know what it could be and you're too fatigued to think right now.

A cat meows in the alley, followed by a chorus of soft mewls. Its bright green eyes blink slowly at you, an orange tubby and cream colored cat sidles up to the black cat. They meow simultaneously, getting your attention. Their noses probably got a whiff of the ham you've pocketed.

“Hungry?” You squat, taking the covered ham to give it to them. They take bites, sharing the meat with each other. “Yeah, I know the feeling.” sighing, you look at the end of the alley, your heart almost falls when you see the same engraving of a bird taking flight stamped on the side of a crate, followed by another and another.

“What the fuck.” You speed walk towards the docks, ankles hurting from all the running you've done. “Hey!” You yell at a worker who's currently loading the crates in a ship.

“Oi yourself” he turns around, hands on his hips.

You try to catch your breath, “what's that?” Pointing at the crate, the man looks at you like you've lost your mind.

“A fucking crate, love. You haven't seen a crate before?”

“No, I meant the design, the fucking sigil.”

“Ah, it's clearly a blue jay. look at its tail.” he gestures at the tail.

“That's— that's not what I was asking but thanks, I guess. I meant the sigil. What does it mean? And where is it going?” hope fills your chest.

“I dunno about the symbol, I just haul them in. As for where we're going, I'll tell you. For a price of course.” He smiles, showing his teeth with one gold fang.

“Fine.” You don't hesitate giving him a coin.

He chuckles, pocketing the money immediately. “Further north, near the capital.”

“The capital.” this is your chance so you take it. “How much? How much to board?”

He laughs at her face. “If only you were a man!” He eyes her up and down. “Clearly you're not.”

You scoff, glaring at the man. “You're fucking nasty.”

“Y/N?” The simple call of your name sends shivers down your spine.

Your heart stops beating for a second, you bolt it out of there without looking back at him. You know it's him, his booming voice yells after you, loud footsteps echoing in the night.

“Y/N!” Miguel yells.

His partner appears from an alleyway, you sprint past her without sparing her a glance.

“Whoa!” She yelps, almost falling on her back.

“It's her!” he screams, voice cracking from the sheer volume. “Lyla, it's Y/N!”

“Oh shit!”

You hear two sets of running footsteps behind you. There's no advantage for you this time, you don't know the city and its streets. It's only a matter of time before you walk into a dead end.

“Fuck!” With your aching knees, thighs burning, lungs gasping for air, you head towards the only sanctuary you can think of and where people can help defend you—The tavern.

You can feel him getting closer and closer to you, turning a corner, your ankles almost give out from the sudden turn. “No, no, no!” Limping slightly, you continue to run as fast as you can with a sprained ankle.

“Y/N, please!” His partner yells.

The familiar roof of the tavern peeks over all the houses, a beacon of hope for you. With a sudden tug on your arm, your body harshly takes an unwanted turn to the right. Strong yet familiar set of arms holds you, a calloused hand covers your mouth as you struggle to get out of the alcove.

“Calm down, it's me.” He whispers close to your ear.

You stop your squirming, looking up, Hobie's serious face looks at the opening of the alcove, eyebrows knitted together in anger.

Your back is squished on his chest, shaking hand holding his wrist. The dark alcove saves you as Miguel and Lyla run past.

Hobie takes his hand off your mouth, you heave, almost falling to your knees if not for him still holding on to you.

“Thank you.” You whisper like he could still hear you.

“Why is the former admiral comin' after you?” He turns you towards him in the cramped space, your knees banging on his legs, hips dangerously close to his.

“What? He's an admiral?” There's no way he's an admiral. You try to remember the day but it's been years, you don't recall him ever wearing a uniform.

“Yeah, he's—” Hobie shuts up, hearing voices from outside your little alcove.

It's him.

You look behind you and it’s a dead end. Craning your neck up, you have an idea.

“We need to climb up.” You quietly say, heart beating rapidly.

“Are you sure you can do it?” He looks at your swollen ankle.

You nod, “I don't have a choice.”

Hobie nods, lips tightly closed. “Alright. You go first, if you fall I'll catch you, again.” He doesn't waste an opportunity does he?

With your feet laying flat on the wall and your hands on the other side, back straight. You slowly make your way up. Hobie's close behind you, doing the same but managing his speed, slowing down for you.

Looking down, you almost fall as your ankle throbs.

Miguel's voice echoes out in the darkness, he's close.

“It's alright,” Hobie encourages you. “I'm right here, yeah? If you fall we'll run, even if I have to carry your arse out of here.”

Why couldn't your savior be Gwen?

With a roll of your eyes and a groan, you continue to climb up. Finally reaching the top, the moonlight greets you. Hobie helps you up by pushing you up by your feet, careful of your injury.

Laying down on the sodden roof. You roll over to the side to help him up by his hand, pulling with all your might.

Hobie climbs over the edge, laying down next to you, breathing heavily.

“I underestimated the height of that.” He says in between breaths.

“I underestimated how heavy you are.”

He pats his stomach. “This is pure muscle, trouble.” turning to face you, his piercings shine in the evening's light, smile across his lips like you're not hiding from someone.

“Full of Finn's stew more like.”

“I'm a growing boy, I need the sustenance.” he twists, looking below. “They're gone, I see them walking back towards the docks.”

You let yourself breathe again, head thumping on the roof. “Thank fuck.”

“Don't you mean thank me?” Hobie lays down next to you again, you groan in reply. “How's the ankle?”

“I think it's just sprained—” A twig snaps, you swear the roof caved in a bit. “What was that?”

“Shit, I think it's the—”

Crack!

The roof caves in, Hobie lunges for you mid air, holding on to you, hand guiding your head on his chest as he braces for impact.

You land on top of Hobie, he groans in pain, your eyes adjust at the candles littered around the frilly room.

“Shit! Are you bleeding? Please don't tell me you hit your head!” you frantically pat behind his head. Instead of warm ichor, you feel something soft.

You pull it out from behind his head without warning. He yelps when his head hits the carpeted floor.

Wincing, you apologize. “Sorry.” looking at the pillow in your hand, you're more confused than ever. More confusing than the sight of a crystal ball sitting in the middle of the table.

Roaming your eyes, you stop at a woman clad in furs and velvet, she stands frozen with her teacup in her hands.

“Uh, welcome to Nellie's?”

—

You're incredibly glad Nellie's nice, she even gave you ice for Hobie's back, ice! In this season! There's also ice on your swollen ankle, the cold seeping through your skin, giving you reprieve from the pain. You bet she's rolling in coins judging from all the generous ice she's given. Maybe you should learn how to be a fortune teller from her. You think about asking her if she needs an apprentice.

After dropping off almost half of Gwen's money to pay for the roof, you stare at it longingly, already missing its weight inside your bag.

She comes out of her kitchen, the beaded curtains flutter as she moves through it.

“Shoulders.” Hobie grumbles. He sits next to you, back hunched while you hold the ice on his back for him. “Y/N, move the bloody thing.”

“Right, you can say please, you know.” You slide the cloth covered ice up to his shoulders, he hisses when you hit his tender muscle. “Sorry, my fault.”

“Definitely your fault.” He quietly says with a pout.

“Oh don't be such a baby,” Nellie drops off a silver tray full of tea and crumpets. “I foresaw that you'll heal in no time.” she says with a smile.

Hobie raises a brow skeptically. You wordlessly communicate with him, telling him to shut it or she might call the coppers on you two. He sighs, rolling his eyes, taking a bite of a crumpet.

“So Nellie, you're a fortune teller huh? How exactly do you uh do that?” You ask, making conversation, careful of your words.

“I'm so glad you asked!” she giggles excitedly, pouring you and Hobie a cup each. Nellie drops a cube of sugar and milk in yours just like how you like it while Hobie gets three cubes. Wait.

Hobie beats you to it, “How'd you know I like my tea with three sugars?” He says with his mouth full.

Nellie smiles, tapping her temple. “I have the gift.” She sits down across from you, “although it's not always accurate, but I give it a” she sucks in her teeth, thinking. “Eighty percent chance of being right? My trusty crystal ball helps in filling the gaps.”

She gestures around the ball, making whooshing sounds.

You and Hobie share a look.

“Do you want a go?” She flicks her different colored eyes at you two. “I'll throw it in for free since you paid me already for the damages. I know I'm incredibly nice, no?”

You have nothing to lose, and you have to wait until Hobie recuperates. Said man eats his third crumpet.

“Sure, why not, right?” you chuckle nervously.

“Lower back.” Hobie instructs, you scoff before doing what he asked. He did save you again, that's the only reason why you do what he asks for.

“Fantastic! Let's start!” She claps her hands, the inside of the crystal ball swirls, pearlescent colors shining inside like water. “Oooh let's start off with you!” Nellie addresses you, you straighten up in your seat.

She roams her ringed hands around the ball. “I see that you're running from someone, M? I think?”

You look at Hobie in the corner of your eyes. He thickly swallows his crumpet. “Shoulders,” he says lowly. You move it up, annoyed.

“And for Mr. Hungry here,” she glances at Hobie. “Oh, I see the letter M too! You're more alike than I thought!”

Hobie stops eating, exchanging his crumpet for a cup of tea.

“Hmm, and a J? For…” she narrows her eyes, looking directly at the swirling colors. “The both of you, again. Huh?” Nellie chuckles, “that's— I've never seen that before, even from other couples.”

You swallow thickly, not bothering to correct her.

Taking your tea from the tray to calm your nerves.

She's dangerously accurate.

Her bright demeanor suddenly falls, her mismatched eyes empty and devoid of light. Her smile fades. “Something lurks in the water.” She says flatly.

“Alright, we should go.” Hobie stretches his back. “This is all bollocks, let's go–”

Nellie suddenly punches the table. Hobie sits back down, holding your wrists just in case he needs to run.

“I see the blazing sun and sand beneath your feet” She sharply turns towards you. “Don a white dress and you'll find what you're looking for.”

You take your wrist away from Hobie. “What do you mean?”

She ignores you, twisting suddenly towards Hobie. “I see blood and steel kissing your neck if you stay on the path. Answer her call and you'll be safe.”

Hobie looks at her with an unreadable face. Fists tightly closed. “Whose call?” She ignores him, blinking rapidly.

Nellie smiles back, the light in her eyes coming back. “Oh look at that! I see the same white dress and sun in yours!” She giddily says to a confused Hobie. “A beach wedding perhaps?” She giggles while you and Hobie are shaking in your seats.

Hobie has had enough, taking your wrist again, he stands up. “Thank you for the hospitality and for not screaming bloody murder but we have to go.”

“To plan the wedding?”

“No, to murder and pillage.” Hobie takes the ice from the floor. “Goodbye”

“Uh sorry about the roof!” You yell back. He tugs you outside.

“Wait, are you two pirates?” Nellie asks into the now empty room, scratching her head.

—

The sun is rising as you and Hobie sneak quietly out of town and into the secret dock where the revenge rests.

You can't help but exhale out your nerves once you reach the ship. Hobie's shoulders visibly relax, waving towards Gwen who's eyes widen when she sees you. Pavitr stands next to her, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You shake your head rapidly, he gives you a thumbs up while Miles has the most disgusted look on his face.

Hobie turns around, “You comin’?”

You contemplate what happened today, your bones are aching and begging for sleep.

“I–I need to go.”

Hobie could only nod, walking away from you without looking back. “Lift the anchor” you hear him say from the ship.

The crew waves back at you, faces of different variety, some smiles, some could only look at you with sad eyes. Finn nods, a small smile on his lips. Gwen leaves, sparing you a glance. You think you hear Yuri yell ‘no, my wife!’ you chuckle to yourself in the empty dock.

You watch as the people's revenge sails further away, the anchor lifting back up slowly.

North. The word jumps back at you. They're heading north.

Without thinking, you run.

Your ankle screams for you to stop, but your grin says otherwise. You pray to every divine entity out there to help you reach the anchor in time and to not let you drown.

“Wait!” You yell. Everyone runs towards the edge of the ship, watching with wide eyes as you run the length of the wooden dock.

Pavitr cheers you on, yelling loudly. Everyone else follows his lead, hands rhythmically banging on wood, screams making you run faster.

Hobie beams from the ship. Tossing off his large coat and hat, he climbs to the side of the boat through its ropes, as close as he can get to you.

With an outstretched hand, he calls for you. “C’mon, trouble!”

With a running leap, your fingers graze his palms. You don't make it.

Hobie lets himself fall, holding your hand with both arms. The crew made themselves a rope to hold Hobie while he grips on to you tightly.

You laugh loudly, seeing the human chain, Gwen holds on to Hobie's waist, while Miles holds on to Gwen, Pav and the others begin to heave you all up to the boat.

With a jump, you reach up with your dangling arm to hold on tight to his shoulder.

Hobie beams down at you, “I hope you've read the book because these wankers might let us go for shits and giggles.”

“No I haven't,” you say above the wind, feet dangling several feet off the deep waters. “But I trust them. I know they've got me.”

The sun wakes up to loud cheering and smiles.

CALLING ALL SPIDER VERSE FANS!!🕷️🕸️

As you know, June 2nd is the release date of our iconic and favorite movie, Across the Spider verse and the one year anniversary is coming up really soon! So I have an idea, on June 2nd, can we pretend that the movie came out and bring back the hype?? I remember it was so popular and every social media platform was talking about it, ESPECIALLY on Tumblr. I really miss the old days of the Spiderverse fandom in June-August of last year.

The fanarts, edits, the spidersonas, EVERYTHING!! I miss it so much, can we do this???

PLEASE REBLOG/SHARE!!

tags: @daisies-daydreams @gltzpzy @punkeropercyjackson @hobies-gf @whorexis @eyesxxyou @k4lenz @gwenstacyluvr @yoitsrubes @hobiebrownbrowser @spdrwdw @spidrvrseframes @cherryredstars @teenidlegirl @juniperarts @nightowl374art @bluumey

Lace

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

Word count: 4.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Cursing, CW spiders, TW Arachnophobia, TW violence, CW injury, angst, fluff.

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Thread the Needle

CHAPTER 6 >>> CHAPTER 7

Your pulse thumps loudly against your skin, swallowing a lump in your throat, you bravely make your way towards your friend. That word hangs loosely in the balance, you have no right to get mad at Hobie, he has no obligation towards your feelings whatsoever. Especially that you've never voiced how much you like him, no how much you came to love him.

You've never exactly pinpointed the time or event that made you love your best friend, but you know deep inside that you have. Whether it was platonic before or romantic after a few years of knowing him. You know that you've loved the same man for years. That's why it hurts so much that he's been ogling the unknown woman in his presence. Hands tucked inside the pockets of his leather jacket, he watches her through half lidded eyes, a smile curling around his lips.

The woman's giggle cuts you like a rusty knife, leaving you bleeding and doubting everything. Doubting all the soft touches and lingering gazes from Hobie all those years of hanging out with him. Maybe you are delusional, your lovesick brain making you think and imagine that a man like him could ever love you back.

You hate yourself for being jealous, the big green monster rearing its ugly head. Whispering and gnawing at your shattering heart. Trying to tamp down the ugly thing, cageing it inside your chest like a feral animal, you exhale a shaky breath. Eyes growing glassy at the sticky kiss she leaves on Hobie's cheek. The large Oscorp museum looms behind the stage, casting a large shadow on the couple, as if the building's hiding them from you, mockingly adding to your pain.

Weaving through the crowd, you catch the last bit of their conversation.

"I'll see you at the after party, right, Hobs?" Her voice is sweet yet it sounds like nails on a chalkboard when she calls him 'Hobs'.

"Sure, Lacey," his voice monotone, "go, we're almost on." Hobie nods at her.

'Lacey' winks at him, giving him a flirty smile, waving goodbye. Her long curls bouncing as she walks away.

Hobie notices someone staring, he cranes his neck, squinting, instantly grinning when he spots you. "Oi! There you are! You're late. Nice boots, are they new?"

You clear your throat, blinking away the tears threatening to spill over. "Yeah" walking closer to him, you give him enough space. Far enough for him to not be able to hold you.

Hobie notices your downturned gaze, "you okay–"

"You made it!" Yuri appears from behind, bounding towards you for a hug. "Look at our lucky charm! Lookin' pretty as always" she holds you at arms length. Giving her the best smile you could muster.

Ned and James join her side, "nice shoes!" Ned exclaims, bass strapped on his back.

"'ave you been cryin'?" James asks, concerned. He (unfortunately for you) noticed your glassy eyes.

"What?" You chuckle softly "No, I had to run here, the wind whipped at my face" trying to save face.

"You sure it's not allergies? Pollen count is at an all time high today" James adds, nodding.

"You learned that at your da's radio show?" Ned teases. James shoves him.

"I'm fine, it's nothing" you shrug, it's not nothing, your heart feels like it's been run over by a train.

"You sure you're okay?" Hobie finally chides in, closing in the distance you've put out. Intertwining your pinkies together.

To Hobie's dismay, you pull away a second later, "yeah, good luck. I'll be in the crowd" you give the band a double thumbs up, "you guys better win!" Trying to sound cheerful.

"Hell yeah, we will!" James pumps his fist in the air for added effect.

You walk away, trying to get in front of the stage for a better view of the show, pushing past the crowd, some seem to be too out of it to notice you. Spotting the familiar curls, you stop in the middle of the crowd that's packed together like sardines. Lacey laughs with her friends, hyping them up, drinks in hand, singing a familiar song.

The lights turn to a different color, red enveloping the stage. You feel like you're underwater, the loud noises muffled in your ears. You can barely hear the announcer introducing the band, eyes fixated towards Lacey, she throws a flying kiss towards the stage. You don't have to look at who the recipient was.

Guitar riffs ring out, Hobie's band starts playing their song, the crowd suddenly rushes in, trying to get to the front of the stage, trapping you. Bouncing around dancing bodies, you can't get out of the wild crowd, some noticing you trying to get out, they move and part for you. But some are way too into it to notice you.

"Excuse me, please! Fuck!" You yell out. A stray elbow hitting you right on your eye. The smacking sound rings in your ears, hand nursing the injury. A hand flings to your cheek, backhanding you. "Fuck!"

"Oi oi, stop! y/n!" Hobie's voice echoes around the venue, you deduce that he grabbed the mic from Ned. The band stops playing.

Half of the crowd doesn't stop, still jumping and bouncing around, guessing they've probably snuck in liquor. You ping pong around sweaty bodies, The only thing you could do was try to protect your head with your arms. Closing your eyes.

"Hoy! Fuckers! He said stop!" Lacey's voice screams out, trying to push past the mass. You can barely hear her through the blood rushing in your ears.

A strong yet familiar arm wraps around your shoulder, looking up you see Hobie arguing with a stranger.

"What the fuck! I said stop! Were you dropped on your head?!" He shoves the man away. Pointing at another trying to argue back. "Fuck off!" He lets go of you, shoving the other with force.

"Hey mate, if she can't handle it, maybe–" The man slurs his words, he couldn't finish his sentence, his face connecting with your knuckles. He should be glad that it wasn't Hobie's or else he would have his rings embedded in his jaw. The man keels over, sobering him up in an instant, groaning in pain.

Hobie looks at you in shock, you look at the men like you want to rip them apart.

Everything crushes you, the weight and pressure of your project, expectations from your family, your love for him. Every insecurity seeps out of your bones, drowning you in its disgusting waters.

You throw your anger at the first thing you see.

"You fucking wanker!" You seethe, your eyes darken, the strangers bear the brunt of your anger. "Stop means stop motherfucker!"

Hobie holds you back, if he doesn't you'll get kicked out of the event, "holy shit" your fist held up, ready to strike again.

You push him off, eye stinging in pain. Huffing, You give the men one last angry glare before stomping away from the crowd, too angry to care that you have an audience. Hobie follows closely behind, calling your name urgently.

"What?!" You turn sharply, the skin around your injured eye slowly turning into a darker color.

"Are you okay?" He asks, hands ghosting over your closed fists.

"Stop asking me if I'm okay, Hobart! Do I look like I'm fucking okay?!" You yell, frustrated, wincing at the pain in your socket. "Fuck!"

Your heart aches when you fight with him, moreso when you yell at Hobie. You're angry but not at Hobie, you're mad at yourself, mad that you've read his love for you as romantic, angry that you never told him how you feel. Furious at your jealousy.

One word stays in your mind, your own voice screaming it out like bloody murder: Coward.

"Love" he says softly, hands wrapping around your tightly closed fists, your nails digging into your palms leaving half moons on the soft skin. Hobie slowly unclenches your fists for you, fingers opening up yours. "You need ice over that, I'll bring you to the first aid station and–"

"You don't have to, just go. Get back on stage" you pull your hands away from him, clenching your hands into fists again.

"y/n, you might be concussed–" Hobie stares at you, concerned.

"Go" you sniff. "I'll go there myself" turning your back on him, Hobie watches you walk away.

—

The first aid station sits further away from the stage, the loud sounds can still be heard from where you're sitting inside the large tent. Cheers echoes out, prompting you to close your eyes at the booming sound.

The frozen ice pack melts in your hand, condensation dripping down on your arm. Your eye socket stings even with the pain meds the nurse gave you. Your head feels like it's trying to escape your skull. Sitting on the plastic chair, elbows propped on your thighs, biting the inside of your cheek when you hear your friends asking for you.

Scooching away from their line of sight, hiding behind a water cooler, you try to make yourself small. You groan when you hear the nurse tell them your location. Your anger has finally subsided, embarrassment replacing it.

Maybe you should've left when you had the chance.

Feet shuffle their way towards you, staying put, staring at the grey concrete, shoes fill your vision. Yuri breaks the silence.

"You've got a mean right hook, remind me to never piss you off"

You don't answer glaring at their shoelaces. The water from the ice pack drops on the concrete, painting it darker.

"Bloody hell, give her some room" Hobie arrives at your side, gesturing for them to give you space.

Hobie crouches down, leveling with your down turned stare. Grabbing the not so frozen ice pack from your hand carefully, avoiding touching your hand, in case you don't want to be touched. He stares at your black eye with concern.

"I made you all lose didn't I?" You stare up at your friends, avoiding Hobie's brown eyes.

"We got third place, I don't count that as a loss. It's better than we hoped for anyway" Ned looks at you apologetically.

"Right, not your fault." James adds. "Competition's hard, love"

"You're just saying that, if Hobie didn't interrupt by saving me, you would've won"

"If Hobie didn't jump in I would've jumped after you instead" Yuri chides in, pocketing her drumsticks.

"Me too" Ned says.

"Me three" James raises his hand, "Hobie just beat us to it" he shrugs.

"Still, I'm sorry," saying it softly. You don't miss the way they avoided asking you if you're okay.

"You're the one with the black eye" Hobie stands up, "can I talk to you?" He asks.

"We'll see you later, yeah?" Ned places a comforting hand on Hobie's shoulder. "As for you," Ned looks at you, "you've got my number, call me whenever or better yet visit me sometime"

You manage to crack a small smile, "I will" you stand up, giving him a hug, squeezing your friend. "Richmond's only an hour away" letting him go, you give him a sad smile.

"That's right, I'm only an hour away" Ned pats your shoulder.

Yuri steps in, holding both your hands, "and I'm just in Cambridge" she hugs you tightly, "don't be a stranger, yeah?"

"I'll come visit you whenever I can then" you squeeze her hands.

"You better" Yuri gives you her rare ten megawatt smile.

"Yuri and I will be classmates so you can visit me too if you want" James pats your back awkwardly.

"Fuck off, no we're not" Yuri scrunches her nose at James.

"We'll see you at the after party, Hobie?" Ned asks the unusually quiet man next to you.

The after party, where she will be waiting for Hobie. You try not to think about it, mentally chastising yourself.

"Nah, I have to get ready for her show."

"That's rescheduled actually, it's happening next week instead of tomorrow" you correct him. Hissing when your skin tugs at your eye.

"We'll be there then if you ever decide to pop in" Yuri informs Hobie.

"Alright, see you" Hobie waves them off. Sitting back down you watch them walk away with sad eyes.

"Can I have my ice pack back?" You groan when the pain pinches your eyelids.

"It's basically water, I'll get you a new one" He moves towards the nurse. You sit there, contemplating the past events.

The green monster peeks back out, shaking its cage, shackles straining against its leg. You try to move away from the image of her hands wrapped around Hobie's necklace that you've given him three birthdays ago, cherry red lipstick sticking to his cheek. The way he looked at her, the fucking pain in your eye. You start seething again, wanting to punch something.

You sigh, palms over your tired face, avoiding your injured eye.

"You al–" he stops himself, walking on eggshells. You don't want him doing that around you. "Here's your ice pack, the nurse said you don't have a concussion so I can take you home. Only if you want to" Hobie hands you the ice pack.

"This seems familiar, huh?" You wince at the cold hitting your skin, trying to cut the tension.

"What?"

"Can you fucking sit down for a second" you gesture towards a chair.

Hobie sighs, sitting down backwards on the chair, resting his chin over the plastic back of it, arms wrapping around it.

"When we first met? Remember that? It was almost exactly like this"

He lets out a breathy laugh, "Right, you threw that sketchbook at Terry. Yuri's right, you've got a dangerous arm"

"Should've gone into baseball, or volleyball at least" you avoid his stare. "We were sharing an ice pack, while we bad mouth Terrence" chuckling sadly at the memory. You don't regret meeting him that day, if you could do it all over again even after knowing what will happen, you would, without question.

"Will you fucking look at me" Hobie asks softly, you jump slightly at his angry tone. "Can you tell me what's eating you, is it the project?"

You wait a few seconds to bravely look at him, your face unreadable. "It's not the project"

"Is it really rescheduled, or you're just trying to get rid of me?" Hobie narrows his eyes at you. You can't read him, his expression flat, except for the slight scowl.

You shake your head, "Why the fuck am I trying to get rid of you? Mrs. Williams had a change of heart and gave us an extension, that's it!" The conversation escalates, frustrated at Hobie for implying that you're getting rid of him. You would never.

"Then why are you angry?" He doesn't raise his voice, he never does, and he won't ever start to.

"Because! I'm–" you hear a loud cough, the nurse glares at you two. Hobie notices, standing up.

"C'mon let's go inside" He stands up.

"Yeah, because arguing inside a museum is much better"

"You think those fucks care about a museum?" He points towards the concert with his thumb, "I looked inside, no one's in there. They're all going to the after party anyway"

Sighing, you want to go home, but knowing Hobie, he won't relent. You wouldn't dare to go to his place instead, not wanting to taint your future home with a fight. Your dorm is out of the question, it's almost midnight, your RA wouldn't let Hobie in. You don't want to run from this, even if it means lying to his face.

"Give me the bloody card" He asks for the favour card tucked inside your pocket.

"You're gonna use one on this?" You hand it to him.

"Yes" he pops one off, Hobie doesn't want to ruin his relationship with you, especially with him not knowing the cause of your anger. So he's willing to do anything to prevent that. The wind carries the logo somewhere.

You wish you're that piece of paper right now. Only seven to go.

—

Walking around the futuristic room, the walls white and pristine, covered in blue neon lights. It looks like you're in one of Ned's favourite sci-fi movie, you can't quite make out the title though. The entire place is silent, with only a handful of people walking around, the only sounds are from displays, machines whirring in the background, and noises made by the displays' speakers. They opened up the museum really late for the concert as a promotion even though most people only stayed for the show.

You stop in front of a display, a projection of some enhanced spider lifting something that's apparently fifty times heavier than its weight. Sitting down on a bench in front of the display, eyes glued to the presentation.

Hobie sits next to you, giving you space. He watches the projection's glow on the side of your face, making it look like there's a giant spider crawling on your skin.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you" you finally break the silence. "I shouldn't have done that, you were only trying to help," eyes still watching the educational video. Taking a deep breath, "Why do you think I'm trying to get rid of you?"

"It's nothing" he watches as the enhanced spider bites another spider, fighting with it.

"It's clearly nothing" you scoff, "that's the first thing you thought of when I told you that the show's rescheduled"

Hobie wishes he brought Terry with him, his leg bouncing, a nervous habit of his. "I'm holding you back." He confesses, wincing, regretting it almost immediately.

Your neck snaps to look at him, "You're not, why would you think that?" You sound angry, but your concern for him wins over. "Why?" Tentatively scooching over, you close the distance, cupping his hand in yours. "If anything I'm holding you back, you could've gone anywhere after you left school. Yet you stayed"

Hobie raises his brow at you, scoffing. At first you thought he'll pull away his hand, instead he drops his forehead on your shoulder, fitting right in. He feels the roughness of your denim jacket, squeezing your hand.

The projector's light envelopes you two in emerald green as it switches to a different scene.

"Why do you think I'm still here?" He finally answers after a few seconds. It felt like hours for you.

"Because I'm your best friend" you say softly.

"Best mates don't look at each other like we do" he gathers all his courage, tired of all the pushing and pulling, tired of being selfish, locking his feelings from you. Hobie cranes his neck up to look into your familiar eyes. The same eyes he's longed for. He's so close to you he could see himself in your glassy eyes.

Your heart beats a thousand times per second, Hobie cups your jaw, gaze falling on your slightly parted lips. You hold his wrist, thumb right on his hastening pulse, you cup his jaw with your free hand, hand soft against his slight stubble.

"Best mates don't touch each other like this," he continues.

Your eyes wander around his face, looking for any lies of what he's told you, flabbergasted at his confession. Your breath is seemingly stuck in your throat, heart stuttering when he slowly closes the gap between you.

You don't pull away.

You can feel him tugging at the loose thread, it feels like it's tightening around you instead of breaking you two apart at the seams. The dam has a sizable crack in its foundation, threatening to burst open.

Hobie leans towards your lips, now or never, he sees you flutter your eyes close, taking it as a sign to seal your lips with his. He feels a crawling sensation on his back, ignoring it, thinking it's his nerves acting up. His heart pounds like a drum, he can't back down now.

"Agh! Fuck!" Hobie suddenly screeches, hands flying towards his nape.

"What? What is it?!" You panic, turning him around, yelping when you see a bright spider latched on his neck. "Fuck!"

"What is it?!"

"Spider!" You try to fling it away using your sleeves, avoiding touching the arachnid.

"It fucking bit me!" Hobie slaps his neck in one swift movement, the spider lays dead, still latched on his skin. "Did I get it?"

"Yeah, let me just–" you take a handkerchief from your pocket, taking the spider away from his skin, "there, got it" showing the spider laying on your pink handkerchief. "Oh god it's red"

"You think it's venomous?"

You laugh wholeheartedly for the first time that night.

"I'm serious, I could die from this" Hobie pokes the spider.

Like it's comedic timing, the narrator from the educational video says, "it's not venomous but it is advised to seek professional help when bitten by the wolf spider, some people could be allergic to their bites–"

Staring at each other, "wow" you manage to say at the same time, you giggle nervously, having no idea how to proceed with how things are now.

"It doesn't look like the wolf spider, they're a different color" Hobie pokes the spider to look at its underbelly, "yeah, different one" he acts as if he's suddenly interested in arachnology.

You look at him with so much endearment, your eyes are practically shaped like hearts.

"What?" Hobie catches your staring, a smile playing on his lips.

"Nothin'" you taunt him with a cheeky smile. He rolls his eyes at you but his smile betrays him.

The intercom rings out, "The museum is now closed, sorry for the early closing" a nasally voice says. "There has been an incident in one of our displays, please leave the museum in an orderly fashion"

Hobie clears his throat, hand scratching at his nape, also not knowing what happens now. "I'll take you home," He stands up, offering you his hand.

"Okay" you feel giddy as you take his outstretched hand. It feels familiar yet oh so different now. You've finally got confirmation about his feelings towards you, no matter how vague it was. You two have all the time in the world to discuss it. You've waited this long, you can endure a few more days of tiptoeing around each other. Baby steps, you think.

Swinging your intertwined hands, you look up at him. "Do you think the incident that they're talking about is this spider?" You pat your jeans pocket where the covered spider is kept. "Like it came out of its enclosure or something?"

"They don't have live specimens here, probably not" he entertains your question, squeezing your hand.

You both leave the museum, hand in hand. Ignoring an alarm blaring from somewhere.

—

You hug Hobie's leather jacket tighter around you, the cold air biting at your cheeks, helping numb the pain in your eye. Hobie takes your helmet off for you, the simple action he's done a million times before makes your heart skip a beat. You watch him with curious eyes, waiting for something to happen between you. The large brick building that houses your dorm looms overhead.

You notice him sweating despite the cold, "How do you feel?" You ask, concerned.

"I feel fine" he takes your helmet back towards the compartment of his motorbike. "Why?"

You step over to him, your palm feeling his forehead for a sign of a fever. "You're sweating, it's like fifteen degrees, why are you sweating?" He leans into your touch, sighing a bit.

"It's because I'm bloody fit" Hobie smirks, winking at you playfully.

You roll your eyes, "what if you're actually allergic to that spider bite? We might need to get you to a hospital" pulling back your hand to your side.

"I'm fine, seriously. I have no idea why I'm sweating though" He wipes his moist forehead.

"Okay. I can come with, just to make sure you don't have a weird reaction to it"

"You'll come to the after party?"

"You're still going to that?" Why? She'll be there, you bite your tongue, jealousy gripping you again. He's not going because of that, right?

"Yeah, It'll probably be the last one with the band, I want to make the most of it"

"Okay, just be careful" you wrap your pinky around his, "ask the others for help if you suddenly feel sick, please?"

"I will. Go to bed, you're knackered. Get some ice on that once you wake up, yeah?"

You bravely stand on your tiptoes to reach his cheek, kissing his skin softly. It feels just right, like your lips were perfectly molded for his cheek. Hobie seems like he ran out of air, frozen into place. He has no idea where to put his hands, your waist seems to be a little suggestive, arms seems to be more on the friendly side, if he grabs the back of your neck, Hobie's afraid he might pull you in for a kiss, which you might not want right now. So he settles for your shoulder, it feels awkward still.

You pull away, seeing a very rare sight of a flustered Hobie. Almost giggling, you clamp down, not wanting to tease him more or he might start hiding this kind of face he's currently making. His pupils are blown out, mouth agape. He returns to his nonchalant expression when he notices you biting your lips to stifle your giggling.

Grabbing his hands in yours, you bat your lashes, "Drive carefully, please?"

Hobie pulls you in by your belt loop, hugging you, his chin rests on the crown of your head, long arms enveloping you. He pokes your scalp with his chin. Your laugh pierces through the dark.

"Yeah, yeah" Pulling away, he carefully grazes his forefinger over to your black eye. "Sorry, 'bout this"

"Not your fault. Thank you for jumping in to save me, even if I yelled at you after" you look at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, again"

He shakes his head, not knowing the exact words to reply to you. Rubbing your leather clad arms, he stops when he reaches your hands. "Keep this for tonight, you can bring it back to me tomorrow, yeah?" Hobie subtly asks you out.

You grin at him asking for you to come visit him the next day. "Mm-hmm, I was gonna visit you anyway. You're due for a fitting"

"Yeah? Finished our baby then?" An excited smile appears on his lips.

"Almost, I think you'll like it" You say smugly.

"You made it, it's a guarantee I'll like it"

—

You adjust the weight of your heavy bag on your shoulder, walking along the water towards Hobie's houseboat. Grinning at the familiar boat, you speed walk to the doors. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, excited to see Hobie again after last night, After his 'confession'.

Hugging his leather jacket around your torso, moving the bag slightly away, just to show him that you didn't forget to bring it with you.

Knocking, you call out to Hobie. "Hey, it's me!"

The boat rocks a bit to the side, tilting your head, curious at what might've caused its movement since the river is calm. Finn is right, you can't hear anything happening inside. The boat tilts again, you hold onto the wall for support.

You knock again, "Hobie! Are you okay in there?"

Hobie finally answers the door, it swings wildly, sweat dripping on his bare chest, still in his boxers, his wicks uncharacteristically standing in messy angles. Gripping the doorknob in an iron hold, his chest heaves up and down like he's run a marathon, or like he just–

Hobie seems like he can't properly construct a proper sentence, he blinks at you through watery eyes, licking his dry lips.

You were about to ask him if he's okay, you freeze in place, face falling when a female voice rings somewhere inside– "Hobs?"

You feel a hole caving in your heart, leaving a Hobie shaped chasm, eyes glistening in the morning sun, you don't even wait for his explanation. You just run, run as fast as your legs could take you. You have no idea where to go. Your heart is shattering with every step, you have no time to pick up the pieces, leaving it scattered in the wind.

You can hear Hobie yelling your name, ignoring his urgent calls, you sprint away.

A/N: Everything will make sense in the next chapter 😉 thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it, it encourages me to write more ❤️

*pictures above are from pinterest*

Between the Devil and the Sea

Pairing: Pirate Captain! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word Count: 115.9k

Synopsis: All your life you've been running away, what happens when you accidentally stow away on an infamous ship that has a captain who's notorious for being the world's most wanted pirate. Will he welcome you as part of his ragtag crew or will you end up walking the plank? Or worse, will your past catch up to you?

Tags: Pirate Captain! Hobie, Fem! Reader, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing occasionally), R has nicknames, Arachkids x Reader (platonic), TW blood, TW violence, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst. Set during the golden age of piracy. Specific Warnings are listed on every chapter.

Masterlist

Navigation

*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms and copy pasted on any AI software*

*pictures are from pinterest*

Chapter One- Seafoam on the Shore

Chapter Two- Claimed by the Sea

Chapter Three- Amidst the Waves

Chapter Four- Go by the Board

Chapter Five- Sailing Close to the Wind

Chapter Six- Batten Down the Hatches

Chapter Seven- In Deep Water

Chapter Eight- Stem the Tide

Chapter Nine- Plain Sailing

Chapter Ten- Starlight and Seafoam

Chapter Eleven- Salt in the Wound

Chapter Twelve- Like Ships That Pass in the Night

Chapter Thirteen- Sink or Swim

Chapter Thirteen- Sink or Swim II

Chapter Fourteen- Between the Devil…

Chapter Fifteen- …And the Deep Blue Sea

Ocean banner and support banner by @cafekitsune

Custom BDAS banner by: @the-shroom-garden

Reader outfit inspos and ship references.

Hobie outfit inspos and references.

Chapter 13 outfit inspos and references

Submitted by lovelies ❤️❤️❤️

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @rexlroze

Chapter 6 comic panel by @rexlroze

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @missshelleyduvall

Pirate! Gwen fanart by @missshelleyduvall

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @missshelleyduvall

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @idrinkwetcementasproteinshakes

Chapter 3 comic panel by @rexlroze

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @h4m0nyqu3s0

Pirate trio fanart by @h4m0nyqu3s0

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @al1x00

Pirate! Gwen by @h4m0nyqu3s0

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @juvenile-arm

OC Bambi and pirate! Hobie fanart by @dollieduvall

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @idrinkwetcementasproteinshakes

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @juineri

Pirate! Hobie x OC fanart by @megdoesstuff

Pirate! Hobie x OC fanart by @teatoptony

BDAS Charm bracelet by @thats-a-pillow-case

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @pleaktale

Chapter 8/9 fanart by @theres-a-spider-in-my-pillowcase

Chap 15 Hobie fanart by @idrinkwetcementasproteinshakes

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @pleaktale *chap 15 spoilers*

Pirate! Hobie and OC fanart by @megs-insanity

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @idrinkwetcementasproteinshakes

Pirate Hobie and R fanart (spoiler alert) by @strawberrymilkmaiden

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @sareenawails

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @sareenawails

Pirate! Hobie and R fanart by @friendly-neighborhood-mushroom