I Love You. (pt 2)

Hello ! Thanks for bearing with me , I am a Palestinian educator from Gaza whose life is dire and gruesome. Nothing has left for my family except the hope you can support and help us. After 9 months of war we became exhausted, hopeless , desperate , and displaced. Houses and livelihood sources have been lost and gone with the wind. Things are driving us insane and made. The least level of life can't be attained. Healthy water and food have become a dream we need to realize. What worsens our life more is the constant bombings and killings. That is why I am asking in this post to help us survive this unbearable circumstances , moving from hell to safety and peace. Your support can help us be safe and alive so friends you can support us either by directly donating whatever you can or by sharing my campaign links so that generous people can know about our tragedy and pain. Remember your small contribution can make a big difference for the lives of many children whose heath gets worse and worse everyday. Let their life change and let them feel happy through your kind contribution.

Not six, but this is important!!!

Keep yourself updated, check the sources of your informations, share news and donation pages, and if you can, donate!

My love and support goes to Palestine, and every innocent person (and their families) who has been hurt or killed by this genocide!

Keep safe everyone, love y'all ❤️

God I feel like people don't even realize that movies like Wendell & Wild are stop motion.

All the characters are hand-crafted figurines with dozens of detachable faces. The scenery is actual sets that the crew had to navigate. Even the special effects like lightning were almost all done with a variety of tricks, except for a very small handful that were dangerous or incredibly time-consuming, which were done irl to test out looks and then replicated with CGI.

The fact that it's stop motion was even made more obvious than in films like Coraline, since they deliberately left the face seams visible instead of editing them out.

Kat's design is amazing already but it's incredible realizing that so much love and passion and labor was put into her and all her models.

I do not consent to my works being posted or translated on other platforms!

Welcome to my blog! Get to know me here!

MASTERLIST <- FIND ALL MY FICS!

TAGLIST <- GET NOTIFIED WHEN I POST A NEW FIC

CURRENTLY WORKING ON (0) REQUESTS

My requests are open!

Request Guidelines:

I will write :

Smut, angst, fluff, etc.

Smut with: dom or sub reader, oral, vaginal penetration, some bdsm themes (impact play, s&m, restraints)

Character x fem!reader

Character x genderneutral!reader

Headcannons, oneshots, blurbs

Song centered fic's

Content with heavy violence or themes of abuse (however I am not comfortable with writing a character x reader in an abusive relationship!)

I will NOT write :

Character x character fic's

Character x masc!reader

Smut that includes DDLG themes, anal or ass eating, dub-con or non-con, water sports, breeding or pregnancy kinks, anything that has to do with pregnancy or kids, NSFW content of characters under 18

Anything that I am uncomfortable with

Content and characters that I write for :

Spider-man Across/Into the Spider-verse - Miles Morales (SFW) - Earth 42! Miles Morales (SFW) - Hobie Brown - Gwen Stacy (SFW) - Pavitr Prabhakar (SFW)

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 ❤️

Parallel Cut

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

Word count: 4.3k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is taller than r though) , TW violence, CW injury, CW food mention, suggestive content.

My Navigation

Thread the Needle Masterlist

CHAPTER 10 >>> EPILOGUE

You walk through aunt Janet's shop, eyes adjusting to the lights. The smell of the store wafts through your senses, the old carpet smell, rows and rows of fabric displayed on the shelves smelling of chemicals and dye. There's a faint smell of leather lingering in the air, reminding you of Hobie. Trainers squeak briefly on the floor, waking you up from your zombie like trance.

When did you even get here?

Your mind has been noisy since yesterday, you've mostly been on autopilot, muscle memory guiding you to your destination. Rubbing your tired eyes, barely sleeping last night, you had the urge to knock on Hobie's door to help soothe your screaming head. You feel a throbbing pain behind your eyes, temple aching in a stabbing headache.

You make your way towards the register, finding it empty, you ring the call bell.

"I'll be there in a second" Janet's voice answers. You have no energy to reply back.

Bouncing on the balls of your feet, fingers fiddling with your ring, its red beady eyes glaring at you, you turn it around so that it faces your palm. Clutching your hand into a tight fist, you're sure it leaves a spider shaped indent on your soft skin.

You already know you're not gonna take the offer so why are you feeling this way? Is it because you're afraid of telling Hobie? If you did, what would be his reaction to it? Whatever it is, you won't accept the job. You only have one Hobie, there'll always be another job, right?

Exhaling, you scratch off a bit of your nail polish, it falls on the floor like snowflakes. Janet finally makes an appearance, cane thumping against carpet, face lighting up when she sees you.

"And here I thought you wouldn't pick up your order" she chuckles, eyes staying on your leather jacket. "Nice jacket, wonder whose that is?" Janet gives you a teasing look, eyebrow raising knowingly.

Giving her a shy smile, you bite your lip. "He made the move– well it was a team effort for the both of us" chuckling, your eyes twinkle when talking about him.

Janet claps her hand, you jump slightly at the cracking sound. For an old woman she could clap really loud. She grins widely at you, smile lines prominent.

"Oh my days! Finally!" She clutches her pearls, "oh so proud of you, sweetheart. Tell me, How'd it go? Only if you're comfortable of course"

"Well he made this really dramatic entrance at the show, running late of course" Janet hangs on to every word, eyes flickering to your tired ones. "After he walked on the runway he just upped and kissed me" you say still in disbelief, happy that you've finally told someone else in person.

Telling Yuri and the others on the phone wasn't as satisfying as you thought it would be. Still, their happy screeches and between 'told you so's'– It left a very giddy look on your face while Hobie rolls his eyes at Yuri telling James he owes her money. Ned was yelling the entire time, chanting 'I did that!' On the speaker, so loud in fact you thought he was gonna break it.

You didn't even mean to tell them at first, but when you answered the phone, Hobie's phone at three am, voice hoarse, sleep still in your eyes with Hobie tangled around your body, telling you in his sleep deprived voice to drop the call, it's safe to say your eardrums almost burst out with (a very drunk) Ned's surprised screech followed by (an equally drunk) Yuri and James. There goes keeping it a secret for a while till you two get the hang of things.

Despite that, your past thoughts linger in the back of your head, hammering loudly, threatening to break down your defensive walls.

"But you don't look too happy" Janet pipes up after your retelling. She looks concerned, lips turning into a thin line. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I'm really happy" Voice quiet, surprised that she saw through the cracks. You're really happy but the offer has your very being torn in half. Occupying your thoughts, eating you inside.

"Honey, I have five children and eleven grandkids, trust me I can tell." She sighs, eyes softening. "You don't have to tell me, but if that boy did something–"

Shaking your head, you're prepared to defend Hobie with your life. "It's not him." With a wobbly breath, you ask her for advice. "Did you ever have to leave someone you love because it'll be better in the long run?"

"Depends, better for whom exactly?" She turns around, grabbing your order from the shelf behind her. "And why would it be better for them?" Bringing the rolls of fabric on the counter with a thump.

"Nevermind, it's nothing" you retract your previous words. Palm aching from how hard you're clenching your fists, giving her a tight lipped smile.

Janet nods, genuine concern on her face. "I don't want to push you, but if you still want my advice just ask." She rings up your purchase.

"Thank you" paying for the fabric, you walk away from the cashier. An idea pops up wherein you don't have to directly ask, because if you did, it would make it real.

"A friend of mine was offered a job" biting your lip, you're technically not lying to her since your classmate Hannah got offered the same thing as you.

Walking back to the counter, Janet listens intently. "And uh, she's worrying about leaving her friends because the job requires her to move away," you pause for a brief second. "Really far away. And she hasn't told them"

"Give your friend my congratulations then." She smiles at you, "Was it a good offer at least?"

"Yeah, they gave m–her a lot to consider. It's a great opportunity for her," with all the numerous visits at her shop, you've grown to trust Aunt Janet with her wisdom in life, not to mention you're quite similar to each other. You value her opinion.

"But she's anxious because she wants to stay with her friend?" You nod at her question, knowing exactly what she's implying. "Well, ask her what was her initial reaction to the news, that usually gives a lot of information on what she truly feels" remembering your excitement and happy first reaction, you try to cover it up in your mind.

"She really doesn't want to leave him behind" your eyes start watering at the thought.

"Does she love him?"

"A lot, she loves him so much it hurts sometimes." You inhale at the confession, feeling guilty that you're dumping it all on Janet.

She takes your clenched hand that's been shaking on the counter, unclenching it, your nails leave half moon indents on your palms.

"Just talk to him, tell him. He'll help her figure it out, better than this old woman can" Janet squeezes your hand. You nod, taking her advice.

"Thank you, I'll tell her that" smiling at aunt Janet, you blink away the tears pooling in your watery eyes.

"Do you want to have a cup of tea? My daughter just sent me a batch from India. I think you'll like it." Janet asks, determined to help ease your mind off of things.

"Okay, sure" accepting, she leads you behind the counter into the back of the store.

—

You wave to Janet goodbye, stomach full of tea and biscuits. Opening the door, you stop in your tracks.

Hobie leans on his bike, grinning widely as he sees you come out of the store. He gives you a look that sweeps you off your feet, feeling like you're back in school having a crush on your best friend. Your heart sings in his presence, a giddy smile on your lips, practically skipping over to him.

"Hi, what are you doing here?" Your smile turns into a frown when you spot a cut on his lip. "Holy shit! What happened? Who did this to you?" Anger settles in your chest. Hands carefully cupping his jaw, scanning for more injuries. You grit your teeth, winching at the thought of him getting hurt.

"It's nothing I can't handle, you should've seen the tosser who tried to take me on" He holds your wrist, calloused fingertips massaging the tensed muscle.

"Are you okay? Any pain?"

"I'm fine, I can barely feel it now" it's how he finds out about his enhanced healing, thanks to the ability, he healed it in no time. The injury looked much worse before coming to you. Still, he savors you doting on him, "Gromit, I'm fine, yeah? Don't worry"

You let out a breath you didn't notice you were holding. Hand sliding down to his neck, fingers fiddling with his necklace. "Are you sure? Let's just go home for today, then you can tell me who I need to beat up" pulling back, your eyebrows knitted together.

"Nah, c'mon. I feel better now that you're here" Hobie pats the seat of the motorcycle. Noticing that you haven't moved, he tilts his head, giving you his most convincing smile. "Gromit, love, cherry" He calls every nickname you have until there's a shy smile on your lips, he even calls your most embarrassing childhood nicknames, "little worm, pebbles, guppy" you hide behind your hand.

"Okay, enough" you laugh, embarrassed at the names, especially that you're on a semi busy street. Taking your hands away from your face to cup Hobie's mouth. He smiles underneath it.

"There she is" Hobie brings you closer, pulling you by the sleeve of his jacket.

"I hate you" you grin through it, eyes flicking down to his lips, worried that you might exacerbate his injury if you kiss him right there and then.

He chuckles deeply, "You love me though" Hobie shuts down your apprehensiveness, lips a breath away from yours.

Sighing, you act exasperated but your love struck smile betrays you. "Unfortunately, I do" you quip back, words stitched with fondness. Closing your eyes, he guides you into the kiss. Hands flying to the back of his neck, deepening it further.

The nagging feeling stays, whispering and taunting. You push it far back in your mind, it gnaws and claws, begging to be let out.

—

You whistle out at the breathtaking view in front of you, clutching the bag of fish and chips in your arms, Hobie helps you take off your helmet. The cliff overlooks the city's landscape, sunset turning everything around you in an orange glow. To your right is a dozen or so picnic tables, moss clings to the wood, still it stands tall. Behind is the woods, thick enough to get lost in, curved oak and pine looming like giants. Birds chirp in the background adding to the calm scenery.

"Do you take all your women here?" You ask teasingly half seriously.

"Only the ones I've pined for since childhood" he joins your side, shoving you with his hip lightly. Hobie takes the bag from your arm in exchange for his hand. Intertwining his fingers with yours as heat rises to your cold cheeks.

You and Hobie are the only ones in the place, save for a few birds and critters hanging around. Cold air nips at your neck, the sun making it warm enough to enjoy the weather.

Hand in hand, he guides you towards one of the tables. Sitting down, you inhale the fresh air. Hobie gives you your share of chips, you smile at him appreciatively.

"So, who do I have to beat up?" You ask, cracking your knuckles for added effect.

Hobie chortles, "hell, I'll even help you"

"What happened anyway?"

He sighs, frustrated. "We got blocked, they knocked down one of us for no reason. Things escalated" Hobie saves you from the violence. "Fuckin' Wilson Fisk still sits pretty up in his ivory tower" his frustration barks back. "Sorry" He exhales, unclenching his fists.

"Don't be, I should've been there. I'm the one who should be sorry" You take his hand, squeezing it three times.

"If you were there, you could've gotten hurt. Don't think I can handle that" The thought of you almost getting trampled back in the pit still weighs heavy in his mind. He brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a quick yet affectionate kiss over your skin. "Everyone's fairly okay, we got out early. We'll try again though"

"I'll be there next time, are you sure it's not hurting anymore? Once we get back home, I'll put some betadine over it" the thought of you on his lap, cooing and cleaning his wounds fills him with affection.

"I'm sure, love" Hobie exhales. "Let's eat, it's starting to get cold" you nod, still concerned for him. Hobie watches your eyes roam around the greenery. "D'you seriously not remember this place?" Sitting next to you, he sips at his drink, avoiding his cut lip.

"Why? have we been here before?"

"Yeah, school field trip. Our classes had the same schedule. This is where we ate lunch, remember now?"

"Oh, shit!" Recognition flashes on your face. "Where we got left behind by the bus!"

"Mm-hmm" He points at you with a mouthful of chips.

"We got left behind because you were too busy snogging what's her face behind a tree to remember the call time"

"No, I wasn't," he shakes his head. "You gotta get your memory checked, love"

"Nuh-uh, I remember it because it was what everyone was talking about"

"We got left behind by the bus because I was lookin' for you" his face turning serious.

"What?"

"I never snogged anyone here" he scoffs, "wankers were stirring up rumours 'bout me again." Hobie scoots closer to you, "I got back to the bus after going to the toilets. I watched your bus get filled up but I never saw you get on. So I came back out to look for you"

You nod, trying to recollect the memory.

He walks you back to that day. "I looked around, asked your classmates. No one saw you. I was starting to panic, thinkin' you got lost in the woods, tempted by a ghoul or somethin'" you snort at his joke. "Found you ten minutes later, crouched on the grass, drawing a fucking flower"

You hide your face in embarrassment, remembering exactly why you hid there. Memory brings you back to that day.

Hobie finally finds you, he feels like he can breathe again. Sitting quietly next to you, his eyes linger on the side of your face. Clutching your sketchbook and pencil in a tight knuckle grip.

You sat there in silence until you forgave yourself for loving him.

"Oh fuck" voice muffled by your hands. "We were stuck here for like three fucking hours because I was such a dramatic bitch!"

"Well, it was a pretty flower" he tries to make you feel better.

"That was not my best moment" you chuckle, "I remember running there because I heard about you kissing someone. Guess I've got a penchant for running away huh?"

"No matter, I'll keep trying to find you whenever you do," you smile sweetly at his words. "Or just catch you before you do"

"You're implying that there's going to be something for me to run away from" you joke, Hobie goes with your bit.

"I don't think there's any more crude rumours of me out there. Think you're good, love." You shake your head with a playful roll of your eyes, cleaning a crumb off his cheek. Hobie gives you a peck on your finger tip as a thank you.

A comfortable silence blankets you both, your mind takes the quiet to its advantage, it goes back to Janet's advice. Mrs. Williams' words echo around you, layered on top of Riley's offer. Heart beating fast, the plastic spoon snaps in half as you grip it too tightly.

Hobie's head turns towards the crunching sound, "you alright? Let me see, you might have splinters"

"I'm okay, just flimsy plastic"

"Here, you can share mine."

"Thanks"

Silence permeates the air once again.

"I need to tell you something" you and Hobie say at the same time.

"Age before beauty" He pokes your side with a chuckle.

You bite your lip, gaze lingering somewhere other than his face. Eyes moving at the gaps of sunlight on the trees. Maybe you shouldn't tell him, you're gonna stay with him anyway, what's the point? You find It painfully difficult.

Because if you did tell him, it would all feel sickenly real. A gut feeling fluttering restlessly, mind predicting the outcome of the conversation.

Hobie notices your apprehensiveness, he calls your name tenderly. Encouraging you to speak your mind.

"Do you remember that bloke back at the fashion show?" Bravery taking over with a shaky voice.

Humming in understanding, Hobie moves his leg over the bench, straddling it to look at you fully.

You fake a smile through it, "well he offered me a job"

"Bloody good on you, love!" He pats your arm, hand staying on it. "Well deserved!"

You smile bashfully at his reaction. "Thanks, but I'm not gonna take it" you bravely look at him, focusing on the slow knit of his brows.

"Why not? 's a good opportunity" his hand slides down your arm, landing on your thigh, unmoving, tethering you to him.

"It's just that– they want me to move to the US for it." Sighing, "so, I'm not taking it" you watch as Hobie's smile fades, the cogs in his head moving rapidly, jaw clenching, wrapping his mind to what you just said.

"Sorry, what was it you're gonna say?" Trying to change the topic, Hobie takes your hand in his.

Heart lodged in his throat, Hobie stays quiet for a minute, for you it seemed like forever. The only sounds are the leaves blowing in the cool air, birds happily chirping as if they're mocking you. Faint traffic beeps from below, it might as well be right next to you with how deafening the silence is. The food you ate sits weirdly in your stomach. You try to even out your breathing as Hobie finally opens his mouth to speak.

"I fell for you right here, did you know that?" He squeezes your hand. You did not expect for him to say that, shaking your head, your heart beats a thousand times per minute.

"You gave me a sandwich– made me one, actually" he continues as you listen on. "Because you know I wouldn't bring my own lunch. You cared for me when no one else did. Then you upped and disappeared that day and–" Hobie releases a shuddering breath. "I just panicked. Then that turned into relief when I finally found you."

Stray tears slide down your cheeks. "As I sat down next to you, realizing that I was panicking because I loved you. And was afraid you were already gone without knowing how much loved you were"

A sob breaks through when you see his watery eyes, something you would've never thought of ever seeing from the strongest person you know and love.

"Hobie–"

"Take it, take the offer" he says woefully.

You shake your head like a child throwing a tantrum. "No, I'm not leaving you," your voice breaking. "I can't"

"You've wanted this since–before you've even met me." Hobie chuckles humorlessly. "I don't want to hold you back" softly, he cups your face in both hands, afraid of what he'll do next. "Do you want it? I won't hold it against you, I want you to fulfill your dreams" even if I'm not a part of it.

You nod your head slowly, answering his question, soft hands holding his trembling ones tightly. "Please, just say the words and I'll stay." You sniff, acting brave. "Please say it!" Balling his shirt in your fists. You hope, wish that he changes his mind. That he would tell you to stay with him. But you know him better, Hobie's a lot of things, selfish isn't one of them.

He stares at your glimmering eyes, watching his own face contort into sorrow. Killing the part of him that wants you to stay.

"You need to go" sobs wracked your body when he utters the words. The ground would've swallowed you whole if not for his hold on you. But it'll be okay if it did as long as you fall with him.

It's love in its most painful form.

His heart breaks for what he's about to do. Hobie takes out his favour card from his pocket, punching out all the remaining logos. You can barely see through your tears while he does it, the card looks bare in his hands. Small circles of logos taken by a gust of wind. He calls your name softly with no malice or resentment in his voice.

Nothing remains on the piece of paper.

You want him to scream and curse at you, make him feel something else instead of sadness. Instead, Hobie hugs you through it, shoulders shaking, hands wrapped around you protectively. Your hands cling to his vest like it's your lifeline.

You hate that you broke his heart after filling it with love.

In between weeping, you mumble 'sorries' love overflowing for each other, cups filling to the bream.

"I'm sorry," you look at him through the tears, cheek on his broad chest, he shakes his head, rocking you slightly in his arms. You feel his racing heartbeat.

"Do you regret this?" Us? You ask tentatively, sniffling. You don't want him to resent you for stringing him along just to leave him right after.

"No, never. I'll do it all over again if I have to.'' He doesn't regret loving you or even confessing, the only thing he grieves over is that it took him too long to do so, he would've had more time with you.

He resents himself.

"I'll wait for you" he blurts out through the tears.

"Please, don't. You don't have to"

"I've waited for you for as long as I could remember and I'll wait for decades more if I have to." He wipes your cheeks, you savour him with every touch. Hobie asks the dreaded question, "when are you leaving?" Whispering it to you so that the world doesn't know. Just you and him on that park bench, bodies in a tight embrace, love pouring out from every pore.

"In two months" you answer with a frown, tears still flowing freely.

"It'll be the best two months of your life then" he captures your lips in a solemn kiss, memorizing every detail, engraving it into his brain.

—

Hobie kept his promise, those two months were the best you've ever had. You and Hobie did everything you've ever wanted together. Moved in with him on that houseboat you've briefly called your home.

Bodies joined together on his sheets you've mended, love and laughter lit up the entire house. With every caress and whispered confessions sends you two reeling over the edge.

Still, your parting looms over your heads. Tears wiped away as soon as they started, reminding you that you won't be truly apart when your very souls have been intertwined since the beginning.

With tearful eyes and sad smiles you part with the love of your life. Promises of late night calls and hand written letters falling on both your lips. Kisses lingering, touch fading as you fly off to your new life.

Hobie takes your photo with him on every patrol, tucked safely inside his leather vest, fingers gliding over the seams you've stitched together.

You look at the polaroid of you and Hobie before bed as you end your call with him, his voice anchoring you. Looking at the moon on your small window brings you comfort that the same one watches over him.

He wakes up alone, sun beaming down on his face, smiling fondly, the thought of the same sun bearing down on you fills the hole in his heart. Reminders of you stays in his home, *your home. Throw pillows on his lumpy couch, your slippers in the bathroom, mug sitting next to his. He leaves it where you last put them, waiting for you.

You endure.

Slowly but surely you grow accustomed to your new life, getting used to the empty space beside you. You meet like minded friends, they help you get out of your shell.

You find yourself, the same one you've lost years ago.

Both of you try to make time for each other even with the time difference and busy schedules. You write letters sprayed with your perfume, a piece of fabric from your newest design is taped inside, words filled with adoration and content. Hobie replies immediately back, with blood stained knuckles he writes quickly. He leaves a dried flower inside the envelope, his letters always ending with the same three words.

After a rough battle, Hobie finds himself recruited to some society full of people with abilities like him. He doesn't seem so lonely anymore. A heavy weight lifted off his shoulders.

You see Spider-Man on TV one day, smiling as the reporter tells the audience that Wilson Fisk is finally out of power thanks to the spandex and leather clad hero. Even with the grainy footage, you recognize Spider-Man's vest.

You dream of each other, dreams getting blurry every night until it's foggy and muddy, turning into a dreamless sleep.

Hobie sees your familiar face, a version of you at least, he doesn't run to her or talk, just watches with a faint smile on his lips. Glad that you're happy in every dimension. He harbours no sadness or even guilt, just love. He'd always miss you but his happiness for you would always win over the emotion.

With each sunrise he wakes up to, satisfaction flowing through him, knowing he chose well. One day he looks next to him without sadness blooming in his chest, just a fond smile under his mask.

He's proud of you and you're proud of him. Sometimes that's enough.

Your love for each other never waned, it stood dormant in your hearts, waiting and yearning for the day you finally reunite.

Until you thread the needle again.

A/N: AHHH!! IT'S FINALLY DONE! From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading, and interacting with my lil story! And thank you for sticking around this long ❤️

Until next time, lovelies (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

(Please read the epilogue when it comes out ily)

Between the Devil and the Sea

Pairing: Pirate Captain! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word Count: On going

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-

Chapter Seven-

Ocean banner and support banner by @cafekitsune

SIX THE MUSICAL - MODERN!AU: illustration

Lina's family tree 1/2

Speed Drive

🎉500 celebration fic🎉

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

Word count: 6.2k

Synopsis: You come along with Hobie on a road trip to Glasgow. Aka the fic where I squeezed in multiple dream dates of mine lol

Tags: Use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mention, reader is a history nerd (definitely not projecting), the reader can't drive, sunshine! Reader. Suggestive content, lovestruck Hobie, Established relationship. FLUFF.

A/n: I did some research on the places they went to, if there are any inaccuracies on the geography/ information, please note that I've never been to any of these places, I'm only basing my knowledge on what I've researched and what I've studied in uni.

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

Navigation

Masterlist

You grunt as you lift the heavy amp, back straightened so you don't accidentally sprain yourself. Waddling towards Hobie's van, amp sitting heavily near your waist. The sun is just about rising on the horizon, painting the pavement deep blue. The water laps at the house boat's side, the sound familiar, adding to the relaxed atmosphere where you and Hobie are the only ones awake in the entire city. The early morning air nips at your skin, leaving goosebumps on the back of your neck.

Suddenly, strong familiar arms wrap around the amp. "What are you doin'? Told you I've got them" Hobie clicks his tongue, taking the amp from you.

He's annoyed but not at you, he's irritated that he got the short end of the stick, ending up waking up early (too early) to load the instruments. You don't take it to heart, knowing his annoyance isn't because of you. It would've been better if he just helped his band mates load them in, but lady luck wasn't on his side. Unfortunately he also got driving duties, now he has to drive seven hours to get to Glasgow for the band's very first big gig. Leaving the rest of the band to take (a very comfortable) train ride at a later hour. Hobie's a bit jealous on that end, he would've liked for you to see the sights on a train instead of sitting on his old van that creaks when he steers a little too far to the left.

The only silver lining about the impromptu road trip is you. Seven hours on the road with just you is pure bliss, if only he didn't have to wake up in this ungodly hour, he would've been in a better mood.

"Sorry, you were busy loading in the drums. Thought I would help" you look up at him through equally tired eyes. A cloud of breath escaping when you talk. Hobie zips your jacket further up, keeping you warm.

He heaves the amp on one arm, effortlessly carrying it. "Don't be, you're just trying to help." Hobie feels guilty for clicking his tongue at you. He holds your cold hand, sharing his warmth.

"You're definitely not a morning person" you squeeze his hand. "grumpy" bringing his hand to your lips, you leave a chaste kiss over his knuckles. "Is that the last one?"

"Think so," he looks around the area, finding nothing else to load inside the van. "Don't forget to bring in the thermos, you're turning into an icicle"

"Okay, I made us sandwiches" you smile at him, swinging your intertwined hands.

"What kind?" He stomps down his grumpy demeanor at the sound of breakfast.

"Lots!" You grin excitedly at him, Hobie wonders where you got your sudden burst of energy.

"Fuckin' hell, no wonder why you were up so late. You made every conceivable sandwich in the world" he jokes, your happy energy spreading to him.

You chuckle, "not every single one. You have the first pick for waking up so early"

"Yeah? Even though you threatened to splash me with water?" He raises a pierced brow, a smile curling on his lips.

You wince, "yeah, sorry. It finally got you to wake up though!"

"Yeah, yeah, and here I thought you would wake me up with a kiss"

"I did! Like five fucking times. You wouldn't even stir, I got desperate, okay!" You laugh, it echoes around the silent neighborhood.

"I believe you, can you get our bags from inside? I'll warm up the van" Hobie reluctantly lets go of your hand. You feel cold already.

"Get it nice and toasty for me?"

"What are you? Banana bread?"

"Funny" you point at him playfully, walking backwards.

"Don't forget the bloody Thermos!" He yells after you, following you with his gaze, making sure you don't trip because you decided to walk backwards.

You wink at him, "okay, dad!"

"Lil shit" he says with a smile.

—

Munching on your sandwich, Hobie cranked up the heating, you're now warm and toasty in your seat. The leather squeaks when you move to feed Hobie a bite of your sandwich. He *insists that he prefers yours even though you made an identical one. Hobie's free hand is glued to your thigh, squeezing it from time to time, making sure you don't fall asleep on him.

Hobie keeps his eyes on the road, trying to take a bite of the sandwich that you've teasingly moved a few inches away from his waiting mouth.

He bites at air, "Oi, what the fuck" you snicker, biting your lip. Hobie immediately figures out what you're doing, "don't make me swerve this fucking car into that ditch"

"Jeez, okay!" You laugh, leaning closer (as much as the seat belt would allow you to) Hobie takes a generous bite, "you're still grumpy? Do you need more coffee?" You rub at the corner of his mouth with your thumb, cleaning the bread crumbs. He hums appreciatively.

"I don't think that coffee's workin' too well" he says while chewing. "We're not even out of the city yet" Hobie huffs.

"Do you want me to drive for a bit?" You wait for his reaction with a tiny smirk.

"You haven't got a license," He says matter-of-fact, "you don't even know how to drive" he doesn't sound condescending or making fun of you, his voice laced with endearment. He makes a mental note to teach you once you two get back home. His fingers pinches you through your pants.

"I'm a fast learner" you joke, Hobie cracks a sleep deprived smile, oh he's definitely not a morning person. "Give it time, you basically drank the entire thermos. Maybe some music could help?"

"If it's your music, I'm gonna fall asleep on the wheel" He squeezes your thigh, just in case you didn't get his joke.

"If it's your music, It's going to burst my eardrums this early in the morning" you quip back.

"Nice. Sandwich me, love" he opens his mouth, darting his eyes from the road to you before his gaze goes back to watching the road.

You lean again, holding up the almost finished sandwich. "Do you know who invented the sandwich?" Hobie eats the entire thing in one bite, almost taking your fingers off. You glare playfully at him.

He chuckles, mouth full. "No, who?"

"Lord Sandwich, the fourth earl of Sandwich in the eighteenth century"

"You're fucking with me" Hobie takes a left turn, the van creaks, instruments in the back sliding a bit. You watch his hand turn the steering wheel, mesmerized by how his large hand grips the wheel. His rings don't help, you tilt your head, watching intently.

He pinches your thigh, getting your attention. "Hey, where'd you go?"

"Sorry, I was trying to recall the rest of the fact" you blink back to reality.

"Will you be like this the entire trip? Watching my bloody hands, you perv" He read you like an open book.

"What– I wasn't, okay! I was–" you fumble with your words.

He has a playful smirk on his lips. "You were what? Fantasizing my hands wrapped around your–"

"Stop!" You hold his hand that's on your thigh, so he could stop his teasing.

"What? I was gonna say 'wrapped around your hand', honestly what did you think I was gonna say?" He asks you playfully, shoving your shoulder lightly.

"it's too early for this shit" you mumble with a playful pout, intertwining your fingers with his.

He laughs, eyes crinkling into a smile. Hobie brings your hand to his lips, placing a quick peck on your warm hand. "Ah, too early for it? Maybe later then?"

You groan but your smile and the twinkle in your eyes says otherwise.

"What were you talking about? 'Bout the sandwich bloke?"

"John Montagu, he invented the sandwich because he didn't have time to eat a proper meal while he was playing cards and working."

"Bloody rich lord" he grumbles with malice.

"Hey, if not for him you wouldn't be eating one of my Sandwiches"

"I love eating your sandwich" he raises a teasing brow, proud of his innuendo.

"What is up with you this morning?" You laugh, playing with one of his rings, twirling the metal around his index finger. "Seriously, did I accidentally make you coffee with something in it? Is that why it says 'special' in the packaging?"

Hobie laughs loudly, echoing around the van. "You think they'd put an aphrodisiac in coffee?" He lets go of your hand for a bit while he steers the wheel with both hands. "Like ginkgo biloba or somethin'?"

You reach for his free hand immediately after he lets go of the wheel to lay it back on your thigh. "No like pistachio nuts or–" you try to think of another example, "— crab" you giggle when the word escapes your lips.

"Crab?!" He rides with your bit. "Must be some expensive bloody coffee, lovey" Hobie rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. "No wonder I tasted something fishy in that coffee"

You gasp, feigning offense. "You did not!" contributing to the bit.

"Now who's crabby this morning, huh?" He chuckles.

You roll your eyes at his pun, "argh, can't believe I have to endure seven more hours of this" teasing him, your sentence has no ounce of truth in it whatsoever. More than happy to accompany him on the trip.

"It'll be the best seven hours of your life, sweets" He looks at you through the rearview mirror with a smirk.

You can read him like a book too. Narrowing your eyes, you can just tell he has something planned, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

"You've got something up your sleeves? Spill it, Hobart"

He sideways glances at you, hiding his knowing smile. "Don't know what you're on about" Hobie clears his throat, playing it cool.

"Nope, I know you, babe. That fucking smirk of yours, I know it!" You lightly poke at his cheek.

"Lovey, I haven't got a scooby doo. I'm just here drivin' trying to get us to Glasgow"

"You get very detailed when you're lying. I know your tells!"

"That so?" He makes a mental note of what you've said, which might be handy the next time he has a surprise. Hobie opens the radio, cd already inside, it plays a loud tune, drowning out your questions.

"Hey!" You yell through the loud music. Hobie almost gives himself away with a laugh, he bites his lip to stifle it. "Whatever– wherever you're planning to stop at some backroad tourist attraction, we better not be too late for the show!"

Hobie cranks the volume up, "What? Can't hear you through the music" he gestures towards his ear.

You press the 'volume down' button, covering your ears. Now you're definitely both wide awake. "You're an ass, you can't have any more of my sandwiches" huffing, you grab a ziplock of sandwich just to tease him more.

Banter fills the van, laughs and flirty words entertain you until sleep comes back to haunt you. Unexpectedly falling asleep, Hobie lets you snooze away in his passenger seat. Avoiding potholes, slowing down when passing a speed bump. He even uses his arm to act as your second seat belt whenever he turns sharply, hand cradling your head so you don't fall off the headrest.

Hobie has the urge to wake you though, but he needs you at full energy for what he's planning on taking you. Eyes drifting to the van's console, he gazes at your camera, taking a mental note to remember to give you the extra roll of films he bought for you.

—

Hobie shuts off the engine, eyes bleary, he clicks the seatbelt off of him. He has the urge to close his eyes and join you in slumberland. One look at your sleeping face almost pushes him off the edge.

He leans closer to you, hand cupping your jaw, he taps your face with his thumb. "Love" you don't stir, eyes still closed. Hobie's so attuned to you that he knows you're not faking it.

He kisses you chastely, warm lips puckering to wake you up. Hobie calls your name this time, poking your cheek. You still sleep, lips slightly parted. He's absolutely jealous of you right now. Peppering your face with kisses, he fully intends to wake you up. Defeated, you still lay asleep.

A bright idea pops up in his mind. Pulling away, Hobie grips the steering wheel with both hands, arms length away from him. He screams bloody murder like he's about to hit a wall.

You jump away, yelling for a second before seeing the parking lot bare, van parked safely. You clutch your chest, eyes now wide awake. Slapping his arm, you glare at him. Hobie has a shit-eating grin on his face, arm raised to shield himself. His laugh echoes.

"You fucker!" Slap "I could've" slap "gotten a heart attack!" You huff with a pout.

"I'm sorry, c'mere" he tries to hug you, standing your ground, you cross your arms on your chest. "You wouldn't wake up! I'm sorry, please?" Hobie flexes his fingers, face apologetic.

"Are we here? Did I sleep the entire time?"

"No, lovey. We're at a stopover" he points outside with his head. "'m really sorry. If there's any consolation I think you'll like this place"

Your eyes zero in on the sign, reading it loudly, "Stratford Upon-Avon?!" Screeching excitedly. You click off your seat belt with urgency, with the intention of leaving Hobie hanging as revenge. You'll kiss him thank you later anyway.

Opening the door, you step off, stretching your legs and breathing in fresh air. Warmer air greets you, a much kinder one from a few hours ago. Trainers bouncing off in excitement. Greenery and old timey Houses fill your vision, adding to your eagerness.

Hobie joins your side, your sling bag over his broad shoulder. Hiding his disappointment from your lack of hug, he only blames himself for scaring the crap out of you.

"Y/n." The lack of the term of endearment alerts you, whirling around, you see his shoulders slumped, face clearly hiding his true feelings behind a straight face. You know he'll feel worse if you don't try to reassure him. So you do, hand signaling him to hold yours.

He blames the early morning for making him all lovesick, if it was the later hours, Hobie would've stuck to teasing you about your reaction. With a sigh and a weak roll of his eyes, he steps in your arms instead of just holding your hand, head resting on your shoulder, yawning as you knead his aching back; you indulge him.

Good thing it's still too early for tourists to flock the area, save for a few scattered ones looking for a place to have breakfast at.

"Apology accepted," leaning back, you straighten the knots on his forehead. "You need better coffee" you scrunch your nose at his closed eyes.

"Or sleep" he grumbles.

"Do you want to sleep for a bit inside the van?" You feel bad for sleeping the entire time. "I'll stay with you don't worry. I won't fall asleep this time."

He shakes his head, slapping his own face to wake himself up. Jumping up and down with you still in his arms. You don't question it, jumping along with him. Metal accessories clinking together, boots thumping hard on the pavement.

Spluttering, he shakes his head vigorously. You giggle at his face.

"Alright, 'm good. Let's go get coffee"

—

You lead a very sleep deprived Hobie by the sleeve of his hoodie, too warm for his leather one yet too cold for just a t-shirt. He lets you drag him along, not because he's disinterested, sleepiness just got the best of him.

Gasping, you point at a unique streetlight. Little statues of a donkey and a man sitting on the metal sides, a curious owl placed on top, looking down on the street.

"Look at that donkey with a guitar!"

Hobie squints through the haziness, "think that's a lute. Kinda looks like you." He still finds the time to tease you even with heavy eyes. A smirk playing on his lips, watching you closely.

"You're the owl then" you let go of his sleeve, taking the camera from your bag, positioning and angling it for the best lighting. He watches your face full of concentration with a faint endearing smile.

Click.

"Got it" you smile, spotting a stand full of maps and information about the place. "Oohh" skipping over the display, you take one. "Hobie, look! Babe?" You look up from the pamphlet when Hobie doesn't reply back.

He walks towards you at a snail's pace. Grunting back in acknowledgement.

You wince, practically feeling his tiredness ooze out of him. "Let's get that coffee. There's a café near here."

"Overpriced coffee" he could only mumble out a protest. While you guide him towards the shop for some much needed refuel. It's not like he has any other choices, all the coffee shops near the area are unnecessarily expensive, save for gas station coffee– which is too far to get to right now, he might fall asleep while driving to it.

Hobie can't let himself drive through the fog of sleep, especially that you're with him. So he surrenders with the promise of getting his pep back so he can drive you safely to the next destination.

—

After gulping down two cups of coffee that made Hobie seethe after hearing the price, he leaves you on the table to go to the loo, your eyes glued on the leaflet, absorbing every word and information on it.

Hobie makes his way back, now wide awake, he watches you put too much milk on your cup, too distracted with reading– it overflows, spilling the hot liquid on the table. He has never loved you more when you jump in your seat, quietly yelping, clumsily wiping at the table with a napkin. He shakes his head with a fond smile and soft eyes.

Hobie asks for more napkins from the cashier, promptly heading towards your table. He helps you wordlessly, wiping, avoiding spilling any more expensive tea.

"Sorry" you expect Hobie to chastise you for spilling your drink, instead, he looks at you with concern and fondness.

"You alright? Didn't spill any on you?"

You smile softly, thankful eyes staring back at him. "I'm okay, it's not that hot anyway"

"Sure?" He takes his tea stained finger on the tip of your nose, leaving a wet patch over it. Green tea wafts your nostrils. "There's some on you"

"Ack!" Wiping it with a clean tissue, you roll your eyes; faint smile telling him otherwise.

"That's how it is then?" He chuckles, satisfied with your reaction. He sits down next to you, drying his hands on a napkin. Arm instinctively flying around your shoulder, holding you close. "Where to go next?"

"Hmm?" You hum, drinking what's left of your tea, "I thought you had it planned?"

"I planned on stopping here, thought you got the next part since you've always wanted to go here, y'know planned the entire trip in your head before"

For a second he thinks that you're disappointed in him for not planning ahead. The thought stops the second you beam at him, hands on his shoulder to anchor yourself on him. lips puckering to kiss him on the cheek quickly since you're in public. Hobie doesn't protest, leaning towards the kiss, angling his face so that your lips just about graze the corner of his lip. You know exactly what he's doing, you let him, moving slyly closer to his lips.

"Oh, you know me so well!" You say excitedly, pulling away, shaking his shoulder for emphasis. "First stop! The river Avon!"

—

"The ferry's closed" you come back to his side with a frown. Gusts of cool air rushes past, rustling your jacket, the leaves on the trees whisper and rustle in the wind, big fluffy clouds providing shade. The river laps at the dock, adding to your downturned lips. "The employee also said Shakespeare's house and the other houses are closed since it's too early"

"We'll just have to come back on our way home then" your frown turns back into a smile, poking his sides teasingly.

"You'll take me back here?" You say with a smirk, playful eyes smile back at him, finger poking his waist. "Ohhh, you're so smitten"

He takes your poking finger with a roll of his eyes, hiding the growing smile on his lips with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. Where to now, tour guide?"

"The butterfly farm is open early. Is that okay?"

"Why not?"

"We have to walk there, it's a bit of a trek" you shrug, "it's okay if we don't have time for it"

He calculates in his head, if you only stay an hour more, you two can be right back on schedule; just on time to get to Glasgow without being late for the show.

"We've got time to spare"

"You sure? I don't want us to be late" toe to toe with Hobie, finger still encased in his hand, you ask him anyway even though you know what his answer will be.

"Yes, let's go before people flock this place"

Hand in hand, you take in the sights, stopping from time to time to shoot pictures of the historical houses and buildings. Hobie becomes your model, posing like a natural in front of the lens. He wrangles the camera from you to take your picture right in front of Shakespeare's home and school. Shyness slowly edging away for a while as Hobie hypes you up. Instructing you to pose here and there.

You ran out of film before reaching the butterfly garden, stopping right in front of the royal Shakespeare theatre. The red bricks and dome like structure looms overhead.

"Aww, I think we used it all"

"'ve got more" he takes an extra roll of film from his pocket. You stare at him like he just did magic right in front of your eyes.

"Where'd you get this?" You say, bewildered.

"Brought it with me" he says nonchalantly like he didn't do the sweetest thing just for you.

"Have I told you lately that you're really amazing?" You load film inside the camera, quickly snapping a picture of his smug face.

"No, maybe you should say it often"

So enamored, chest filled with love, you agree. "Mm-hmm, maybe I should. Now, can you stand right there while I take a picture of your amazing face"

—

You finally make it to the butterfly garden. An arch with a large colourful butterfly display greets you. Inside is a beautiful glass greenhouse with a dome ceiling, it shines brightly in the early morning sun, adding to your excitement.

Once paid for the tickets, you and Hobie head inside, you're practically jumping off the glass walls. Hobie's hand leads you inside, preventing you from sliding on the gravel and breaking your ankle on the rough ground.

You're in complete awe of the place, it looked beautiful outside but nothing compares to it once inside. The sun glows brilliantly, bouncing its rays on the glass ceiling and walls. Flora and greenery as far as your eyes could see, strategically placed around the massive greenhouse. The flowery and sweet smells entranced you to explore the entire place, not to mention the colorful butterflies in all shapes and sizes fluttering all around you. Birds make their morning sing-song adding to the fantastical atmosphere.

The look on your face makes waking up a few hours earlier than scheduled makes it all worth it for Hobie. He softly smiles at you, hands clasped comfortably over yours. Eyes sparkling, mirroring yours, he guides you further inside. You let him, neck craned up, watching as butterflies swirl overhead.

Gravel crunches under your footsteps, Hobie stops walking. You almost bumped into him, he tugs at your hand, pointing down on the shrubbery.

"What is that?" You squint, jumping when something green slithers further away from you two and into the thick greenery. "Woah!"

He chuckles at your reaction. You fumble for your camera to capture a photo of the iguana lounging in the warmth, scales as green as the leaves around it.

Click.

"Look, it's you!" You point at its sharp spikes, looking at Hobie with a teasing smile.

"Careful, he bites" he taunts back, making you retract your finger back.

Strolling around more, you take so many pictures, the film Hobie gave you is almost full. You've even snuck in candid pictures of Hobie, and by god, he looked great in all of them. While all your pictures looked like you were at a field trip with your parents, posing with a goofy smile on your face as a butterfly lands on your shoulder.

It's been almost an hour of exploring, so you hold his hand again to tug him towards the exit with a promise of going back, without a time constraint next time.

Crisp air greets you two, hand in hand, you walk by the river, watching as ducks and swans swim on the surface. Their quacking and honking gets louder and louder as they notice you, asking for food.

"Maybe we should've brought rice with us" You mumble, looking at the birds with an apologetic look as if they can understand you.

"Do you think if you fall in they'll eat you?" Hobie asks with a serious look on his face, a small smirk curling on his lips, the only indication that he's fully joking.

"I don't think they'll like me very much, I'm full of bread, which isn't nutritious for 'em" you playfully quipped back, squeezing his hand. He chuckles at your comment.

Hobie slyly moves you away from the river, just in case you actually fall in. He guides you to his right, so that he's the one nearest to the water instead of you. Hand holding your left one, you lean to his side, full of affection in your chest, you softly kiss his shoulder. Whispering softly a 'thank you'

—

You've been quiet for an hour, Hobie side eyes you from time to time. The sudden silence makes him concerned, moreso when your face has contorted into a grimace, eyebrows furrowed, you bite your lips with a sharp inhale.

He's worried since you've been extremely chatty an hour ago, voice filling the van, you help him stay awake. Well until he hit a speed bump that made you squeak out.

"You alright, lovey?" Hobie asks with a squeeze of your thigh.

You sit with a fluffy blanket over your lap, a neck pillow under your head. You look comfortable enough, so why do you look like you're in pain?

You exhale, looking at him through the corners of your eyes without moving your neck. "Mm-hmm"

"Mm-hmm? What's wrong? Is the seat not warm enough?" Hobie looks at you through the rearview mirror, seeing your knitted eyebrows.

You ball the blanket under your knuckles. "I'm okay"

He nods, unconvinced.

After a few moments of smooth driving on the highway, cars drive past, you squeeze your thighs together. Controlling your breathing, you try not to think of water.

"Love" he calls for you, "did you see that car with the flame decals on it?" Chuckling softly, he places his hand over your thigh again. Hobie feels the tight muscles under your pants, eyebrow raising in question.

"Y/n" he snickers under his breath. Hands kneading softly at your thigh. Hobie translates the squeezing of your thighs together and your elevated breathing, "I swear if you're hot and bothered, I can't park right here–"

"I need to pee" you say embarrassed, avoiding his eyes. Only finally admitting it so he doesn't actually think you're aroused for some reason.

Hobie laughs loudly, hand slapping the steering wheel. "I told you to go before we left"

"Hobie," you whine. "Not funny, I've been holding it for so long"

"Alright," he clams up, still smiling at your predicament. "There's no gas station near here, love. We're too far away to turn around but we're thirty minutes away from Manchester. We can stop there"

"Thirty?!" You're in agony, hands tucked in between your legs in an attempt to tamp down the need to go.

Hobie moves his hand from your thigh to the back of your neck, kneading softly. He presses the gas, if he hurries you can make it in twenty five without breaking any traffic laws. He makes a joke about you peeing in a bottle which you only glared in return.

Twenty minutes later, you're folded in half on your seat, head layed on your lap, trying to distract yourself by counting the threads in your blanket.

"Almost there, love. Hold on" Hobie pats your head in reassurance. You groan out a reply.

—

You jumped from your seat after a second of Hobie parking the car in front of a gas station. Hand tightening around your travel sized toilet paper.

Hobie patiently waits for you outside the door. Fingers fiddling with his web shooters tucked under his sleeve.

The door creaks open. His neck cranes up to meet your relieved face. "Success?"

"Remind me to not drink anything until we make it to Glasgow."

"You still need to drink some water y'know" he walks back to the car with your pinkies linked together.

"Are we still far?"

"A bit, let's stop by Liverpool to eat lunch" he opens the passenger door for you. You smile sweetly at the gesture.

"Thank you, sorry for being annoying" You hug his waist with one arm briefly just before you hop to your seat.

"Not annoying, tell me next time, yeah?"

"Okay" you lean down to press a kiss on his lips, savoring the moment. He hums into it, his hand right over your shoulder so that you don't fall off.

—

As the van passes through Manchester, you spot the canals, houseboats parked on the side, you get reminded of your shared home.

"Look! That one looks like ours, same color too"

"Missing home already?"

"Kind of. Wish we could stop here, they've got the oldest library in Britain" You lay your head over the window, watching as landmarks pass by in a blur.

"They also have a serial killer too"

You scoff, "in this day and age?" Looking at Hobie's face, you don't see any lie to his comment. Your face falls, "wait, you serious?"

He shrugs, side eyeing you. You have absolutely no idea if he's joking or not, Hobie's good at acting like that, especially if he's teasing you.

"Hobie, you're joking right?"

"Hmm?"

"Is there actually a killer on the loose here?" You instinctively check the door locks.

He doesn't respond, adding to your fear. You completely miss the mischievous look on his face though.

"I don't want to stop here anymore" you mumble.

"We could always take a detour right now–"

"Nope, no thank you" you answer lightning quick.

He hides his smile behind his hand. Maybe he'll tell you all about it on the return trip.

—

An hour later you're sitting down outside a local restaurant in Chinatown, waiting for your food to arrive. The air blows softly, fluttering your lashes. You close your eyes, head resting on your hand, elbow over the table. You can see the faint outline of the Liverpool cathedral underneath the fog. It's gotten a few degrees colder since you've arrived, the streets shine from the earlier rain, petrichor wafts your senses.

Two bowls of warm noodles are placed in front of you. Side dishes, dimsum and xiaolongbao makes your stomach rumble at the sight and savory smell.

"Thank you," you smile at the waiter.

Wondering where Hobie went, lo and behold, he emerges, walking towards you with a paper cup of convenience store coffee. "Food is here, you still need coffee?"

He sits down across from you. "Yeah, needed another boost" Hobie scrunches his nose before standing up again, moving his chair right next to you, avoiding it from scraping the concrete. He sits back down, arm thrown over the back of your chair.

You look at him with a fond smile, heart eyes staring back at Hobie.

"What?" He challenges you with a raised eyebrow and faint smirk.

"Nothin'" you shove him lightly with your shoulder.

"Hm" he hums, you translate it to an 'obviously'

You eat with content, letting him steal some of your broth from your bowl, in exchange, he gives you a dimsum from his share.

—

You do your best at reading the booklet about Liverpool that you've bought before leaving the city while the vehicle moves.

"The guy who designed the cathedral is the same person who designed the red telephone box"

Hobie listens intently with coffee coursing through his veins, stomach full of food, he's properly fueled to drive for more than four hours to Glasgow. His band mates better be there already when you two arrive or he'll wring their necks.

There won't be any more stops until you get to the destination since there'll only be the highway to drive on. It stretches far, cars whirring past. With Sprawling green hills, and mountains curved around the highway makes the drive much more serene. Powerlines on the sides ground you, making it all seem familiar. The weather is foggy, blanketing the England to Scotland border.

The van rattles as Hobie swerves the car to the right. He plants his hand back in your knee, palm circling the curve of it affectionately.

"Ohh, they've got a beach" you stare at the picture of the nature reserve with its sandy windswept dunes, and grassy knolls.

"Add that to the list"

"Okay" you take out a pen from the glovebox, biting the cap off with your teeth, you scribble it on the back of the booklet where there's an empty space. Using your thighs as a table, you add the destination on your little list right under 'old thatch tavern'

"There," you hum happily.

"Is there anything on there 'bout Glasgow?" He kneads your knee with his knuckle.

"A tiny bit" you flip to the back, "they've got a mural trail, we might pass through it on the way. Ooh they also have a glasshouse."

You two pass the time by giving him facts about the places you've passed. Hobie listens in, adding his own knowledge to the mix. An hour later, you're both jamming to his music cassette. You try to make him laugh by banging your head to the song. Whipping your head too hard, you end up banging it on the dashboard.

With wide eyes and laughter threatening to spill out, Hobie comforts you with his palm over your forehead.

You two chat about with you feeding him crisps in between, exchanging stories and playing 'I spy' Hobie ends up winning with his enhanced vision, you challenge him again with a huff. He still wins the second and third round. His prize? Hobie tells you he's gonna hold onto it until you reach Glasgow.

At hour three, the car makes a metal groaning sound in the middle of the highway, you and Hobie looked at each other in fear for a second, silent and waiting for the van to keel over. You both sigh in relief after a few good minutes of silence with the car still running smoothly. Good thing it did because you have no idea how you'll make it to Glasgow if it did decide to just die in the middle of the road.

Before you know it, Hobie parks the van near the venue. Clicking off his seatbelt while you stretch in your seat. Hobie leans towards you, elbow right over the center console, he helps you with your seatbelt before promptly moving his hand to your cheek to face him.

"Can I help you?" You giggle, pecking the tip of his nose. "Are you claiming your prize?"

"This isn't my prize, lovey." He softly says against your lips. "That'll wait for later"

"Okay," you feel like your cheeks are on fire.

"This is my thanks" He meets your waiting lips, moving with yours. Cupping his jaw, thumb rubbing his cheeks, you breathe through your nose so the kiss would last longer yet it still leaves you breathless. You feel his hand around your nape, deepening the kiss further.

Hobie pulls away, seeing your pupils completely dilated, chest heaving for air.

"Thanks for what?" You ask breathlessly.

"Comin' with me" with his finger, he wipes the sheen off your lips, it stays there for a second, savoring, longing. For everything.

"You could've asked me to go anywhere and I still would've gone. As long as it's with you."

He answers with another kiss, laced with so much love and thankfulness, you feel it all through it.

A sudden knock has you pulling away, Hobie clicks his tongue at the intrusion. Turning around, he spots his bandmates whistling and wiggling their eyebrows. One was making a gesture that made you hide your face.

"You fuckin' wankers!" Hobie opens the door, slamming it on his friends' faces, they scatter, hooting and hollering, taunting him.

You watch as Hobie play fights with them, arm choking his bass player. With a lopsided smile on your face, excitement bubbles in your chest, the return trip and his promise makes you excited more than anything.

A/N: this fic is long overdue that we're at 700 already! Thank you all so much for reading and interacting with my little stories! Love all 700 of you ❤️

Amidst the Waves

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is mentioned taller though), the reader has nicknames. CW food mentions, TW blood, CW injury, TW violence, TW gore, CW death, CW guns.

Navigation

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Chapter 3 >>> Chapter 4

You've heard all the stories that all pirates are criminals who would cut your throat without remorse for a single coin in your pocket. You've heard it enough from traveling bards and newsboys screaming out the pirates’ crimes every morning that it's ingrained in your psyche. The news about the navy hunting them all one by one hasn't passed you either. You remember walking through towns with pirates hanging from the noose, a warning to all pirates.

It's all everyone talks about, especially in small towns. it's impossible not to hear of the bloodsail pirates and their latest crimes. But now you're standing in their ship, wearing their clothes and eating their soup. A surprisingly good soup too.

If only your past self could see you now, she'd probably throw you overboard herself.

Ned, you've come to know, throws you a mop and a bucket full of hazy water that sloshes on the sides, almost spilling over your new-ish clothes. You're too tired for this.

“Careful now, that has lye” His friend, James, you’ve learned snickers on the side.

“Go swab the poop deck, land lover” Ned points above you, rows of stairs greeting you. “As for you,” he addresses the blond, “the deck”

“What?! Why does she only get the poop deck and I get the entire bloody main deck?!” He jumps off the railing, fuming.

“Complain more and you clean the bathrooms”

“No! Not the bathroom again.” James picks up a spare mop. “Look, I'm cleaning, yeah?” he mops like a madman all over the main deck.

You chuckle, Ned hears and he gives you a staring down, you clamp down immediately.

“Poop deck! I'm on it!”

Clambering up the stairs is easier said than done. With your new found sea legs and the waves bashing on the sides of the ship, you're fighting for your life.

“Need help?” Hobie suddenly appears on the top of the stairs, annoyingly munching on an apple.

You heave the bucket, staring at him while doing your best at taking the cleaning supplies up the creaking stairs. “I'm good” step.

“You sure? I'm offering you an olive branch here, scuttlebutt” he leans on the railing, not moving an inch to actually help you.

Step.

“You can keep your branch,” you wobble slightly when a large wave crashes on the side of the ship. But thankfully, you keep your balance. Step. Finally reaching the top, you exhale out proudly.

“I'm not fond of olives anyway” you side eye him before continuing to walk on the poop deck.

Another wave hits, the water sloshes out, barely missing your hands. “Shit”

“Careful, that has lye in it” he says with a chuckle.

—

You missed lunch because you scrubbed the entire poop deck clean. Your stomach grumbles as the sun sets and you remember your last day in that small fishing town. The orange glow never fails to make you smile but now it squeezes your heart. It's still a beautiful sight, the large body of water glitters from the light, almost like it's calling out to you.

Great, you're already going insane after a few hours. Pinching your arm, you shake your head. You can't wait to get on land.

Walking down, you walk on the deck with an empty bucket. The sea is much calmer now, the movement is pleasant, if you're in bed right now, you would've fallen asleep from the motion. The breeze picks up as you set the supplies down. You lean on the railing to rest your lower back while you admire the sunset.

James huffs a few feet away from you, still mopping the deck while Ned and a raven haired woman chats near him. They make comments on the side that makes James glare at them. You let them be, watching the sunset with your hand on your chin.

Your back and knees ache from the labour and your stomach roars again for something to eat. Maybe they still have the soup earlier.

There's a sudden presence next to you. Leather and sea salt enters your senses.

He rests a couple of feet away from you, just in case you try to push him off.

“What a view, huh?” Hobie, he looks at you through tired eyes.

“Verdict’s still out” You don't try to argue lest you ruin the rare peace and quiet on a busy ship.

“‘course it is.” He chuckles. There's a comfortable silence between you.

After a beat he speaks up without looking at you. “Go help in the galley.” Before you could retort something witty, he walks away from you. You swear you saw something in his eyes, you have no idea what.

Heading down to the ship's kitchen, you see Gwen just about leaving.

“Oh good you're here. Go help out with dinner” she instructs without stopping for you.

Entering the swinging doors, you can't protest or else, well you try not to think about it too much. The galley is cozy, not what you expected of a pirate ship's kitchen to say the least. It's clean, all stone and steel melded together to create the quaint space.

You jump when Finn's hulking form enters your vision, his butcher's knife chopping down on a slab of meat, the sound reminds you of a guillotine.

He notices you freezed in the doorway, Finn huffs motioning for you to take an apron from the hanger with his incredibly large knife. You think you prefer the cutlass instead of the butcher's knife in his hands.

Tying it around your waist, you keep your distance away from the man.

“What do you need me to do?” You ask carefully so as to not anger the bull.

Finn moves to the side to reveal the boiling pot, the aroma makes your stomach gurgle. He points to a bundle of carrots on the counter before giving you a smaller knife. He nods once, going back to his chopping.

“Alright…” you find his lack of words peculiar, especially hearing the rest of the crew babble endlessly during the short time you've been on the ship.

You spare him side glances with every thwack of his knife to the chopping board. Working in comfortable silence, the sound from the bubbling pot calms your nerves, reminding you of the familiar sound in the white salmons’ kitchen.

The boat sways in the waves, making the hanging pots and pans swing to the motion. Finn taps his knife on the board twice, getting your attention. He gestures with his head towards the sliced carrots before glancing at the pot.

You understood completely, doing what he asked, he nodded once. A thank you maybe? Or he's just being nicer to you because of the whole ‘making you walk the plank thing’

Finn cleans himself up over the sink as you take a ladle to mix the stew, careful of the fire that licks the bottom of the metal pot.

A hand pops up at your line of sight, a bandage and a jar of wound cleaner placed in his large palm. He pushes the supplies to you, encouraging you to take it.

“Uh, what's this for?” you manage to take the things without it accidentally falling inside the crew's dinner. With how the ship rocks, you're proud of yourself for just being able to stand up.

Finn points to his chest, flicking his eyes to the supplies in your hands.

Looking down, you see a spot of red on the white cotton of your borrowed shirt. “Oh, thank you”

He huffs again, going back to cooking, letting you be.

Maybe they're not so bad?

—

Dinner is finally done. You can hardly keep your eyes open as you heave the huge pot over to the longest table you've ever seen. It's a makeshift table, a hodgepodge of crates and planks of wood put together to create the dinner table. Everyone starts to gather around the deck, the sun fully set, darkness rules the seas now as the candle light and oil lamps sway with the movement of the breeze.

Dining under the stars, how romantic.

They're a rambunctious bunch, pushing and pulling at each other to get the good plates first. You're already prepared for this of course, you've hidden a bowl in your apron so you could quickly scoop out dinner and vanish into a barren corner of the boat.

The same dark haired woman has other plans though, just before you could make your escape, she grabs you by the shoulders; orange and a flowery scent wafts in your nostrils.

“Where do you think you're going? Mm?” She whispers into your ear, her voice smooth, raising goosebumps on your arms. Freezing in her touch.

“Stop harassing the poor girl, Yuri” Gwen says while she takes her seat near the head of the table.

“Just having some fun, Gwen” she releases her hold on you, walking away with a wink thrown your way.

“Don't mind Yuri, she likes doing that to new people, her way of hazing I guess. I'm Miles by the way” He shakes your hand, smiling politely at you.

“She's not new to the crew, Miles. She's only here temporarily, remember?” Gwen pipes up, scooping her meal.

“Right, gotcha” he sits down next to Gwen with a huff. “Still, welcome a board the People's Revenge”

“I've gotten acquainted with your ship, just the poop deck and galley actually”

“Let me give you a tour then!” Pavitr suddenly appears next to you.

What is up with this crew instantaneously appearing out of nowhere?

“Hi, remember me?”

“Of course I do, thanks for the coat again”

“No problem, come on, let me introduce you to everyone!” Pavitr takes you by the sleeve, dragging you along the deck to introduce to literally everyone. “Oh you're gonna love them! Well, once you get to know them”

“Oh okay–just”

“This is ‘two fingers’” He points at a man halfway through putting a spoon in his mouth.

“I have a name, Pav! And I have all my bloody fingers!”

“Why are you called–” before you could ask, Pav led you away, smiling excitedly.

“This one here is ‘foul’!”

The crew around him laughs, “You forget to shower once and you get fuckin' called stinky!” Foul grabs a spoon to throw it at a laughing eye patch clad man. It conks him right on his forehead.

Pavitr moves on, actually introducing you to more people whose names get more ridiculous as you go around the table.

“And finally, this one is ‘ugly mug’” Pav shakes ugly mug’s shoulders for emphasis.

“Hey” the man with the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen and plump lips greets you.

“Ugly mug? He's not ugly at all!” You wildly gesture to his sharp face.

“You're too kind but I've learned to live with the ugliness” you don't know if he's joking or not with how serious he looks.

“Oh I almost forgot, this is Danny” Pav skims the most normal looking crew member. He whispers to you. “He's a bit weird”

Danny waves wildly, beaming at you. “Hi, I'm Danny!”

“Alright… thank you, Pavitr for the introduction” your stomach starts to cry again. “But I've gotta eat.”

“Oh, sit with us then!” He guides you to an empty chair next to Gwen. “Here, sit down. I'll get a bowl for you”

Awkwardly sitting down, you side eye Gwen. Miles looks like he's about to jump away from the tension.

“If you're worried about everyone planning to hurt you, don't. We have a code here and until you leave, you're kind of…one of us” she pierces the awkward silence between you.

You exhale a breath you haven't noticed you were holding. But you're still on guard, they are pirates after all.

“Here you go, I got you extra bread too” Pavitr saves you from the tension, bringing you a heaping bowl of hot stew with two loaves of bread. He sits down next to you, happily eating.

“God, I'm so hungry.” You grab the spoon with fervor, scooping up a chunk to quickly eat before it goes cold. It warms your insides, calming your hungry stomach. “Thank you– holy shit” it's the best tasting stew you've ever tasted.

“Good, right?” Gwen watches on with an amused smile. “Finn makes them from scratch, even the bread”

“I didn't even know that was possible on a ship.” You say with your mouth full. “Finn doesn't talk much huh?”

“Oh he talks. He just doesn't want to” Gwen shrugs, “that's his thing, don't ask him why”

“Wasn't planning to” you chuckle through your glass.

“Gwen,” Miles looks at you like he knows something you don't. “Am I crazy or she kind of reminds me of M–”

“Don’t” Gwen and Pavitr simultaneously say.

“You remind me who?” You flick your eyes between the trio.

“Don't–”

“MJ, you remind me of MJ.” Miles looks at you with sad eyes.

The entire table silences the moment Miles utters the name. Everyone looks at you and at eachother like how they did when you arrived just this morning. But this time there's sadness in their eyes instead of amusement.

“Who's MJ?” you ask nervously.

“Our former first mate” Foul flicks his eyes around, looking for something or someone. “Emphasis on the former”

“Oh” you could read the room but your bout of curiosity gets you first. “Who's the new first mate?”

“I am” Gwen says it without any pride laced in her words.

“Oh I figured that out. Where is she now?”

“Not here” A familiar voice replies behind you.

Looking over your shoulder, Hobie’s jaw is set, his hand on one of his pistols, the gold on the handle is a stark contrast to the rest of his silver ensemble.

You expect for the crew to stay silent once their captain arrives, but they hollar and cheer. Morphing Hobie's grimace into a smile. But it's still there, the anger and sadness, you can tell because you see it in the mirror everyday.

“Right, what's for dinner?” He sits down on the head of the table while his crew passes him a bowl and the pot. “Looks good, Finn. You've done it again, big man”

You hear Finn's signature grunt from somewhere along the table.

“Aye? She didn't mess anything up did she?” With just one grunt Hobie translated what Finn grunted.

How in the world?

Finn shrugs, making an ‘eh’ gesture with his hand. Hobie laughs, while you look at Finn with a ‘really?’ Look on your face. He rolls his eyes at you.

“I'm an…alright cook” you defend yourself but still remaining true.

“Sure you are, scuttlebutt. What other useful skills do you have, mhm?”

With a chance to prove yourself so they stop giving you tasks that break your back, you sell yourself.

“I recently learned how to sew and mend clothes.”

“You plannin’ on replacing Neddy as our sailmaker?”

Ned lifts his head up from his book. “What's that?”

“Nothin' Neddy. D’you know how to shoot?”

“Please say yes so you can join me with the cannons.” Yuri smirks further down the table.

“Uh, no I don't know how to handle gunpowder.” you refrain from looking at Yuri.

“Carpentry then? Fishing?”

“No and...no” you twiddle with your thumbs under the table.

Hobie grins mockingly at you. “Maybe we should just drop you overboard right now”

You grit your teeth. “I'm good with herbs and medicine. I'm guessing you don't have a ship doctor”

“Now you've piqued my interest.” Hobie casually leans on the table by his elbows, resting his chin on his hands. “Where did a fish girl like you learn about medicine, huh?”

“You only need to know that I can fix some of your crew's ailments. I'm not a doctor but I'm experienced”

“Closing wounds?” You nod. “Scurvy?”

“Theoretically, yes” you challenge him head on.

“The plague?”

“Survived it”

“The pox?”

“Most I can do is stop the spread and alleviate the pain, the survival depends on the person”

“Can we not talk about diseases while eating?!” Pav wildly gestures at his food.

“Carry on” Hobie side eyes you. Taking a huge bite of his loaf.

You throw him a fake smile.

“How are you liking the Revenge so far, Y/N?” Miles tries to make you forget the last interaction with him.

You wouldn't forget about it of course, it'll stay in the back of your mind, festering until your curiosity gets you and you ask who MJ actually is and why everyone quietened after she was mentioned. Maybe you'll do it one day, where your feet are firmly on the ground and you're not near any body of water.

Thinking of an answer that doesn't get you cut by a sword, you fake a smile. “Not what I expected”

“Did you expect blood and gold littered all over the place?” Hobie adds to the conversation. “Because that's in my quarters not here”

Gwen rolls her eyes at his joke while the others are either ignoring it or laughing along with Hobie.

One of the crew yells out on top of all the noise. “Aye, if you're lucky enough, girly, you'll see the inside of the cap’s quarters!”

Hobie shakes his head, throwing an entire plate towards the man with accuracy. Finn moves his head to the side casually before it hits him. The plate shatters then you hear the man scream obscenities.

“Don't listen to that animal” Hobie says without looking at you.

You want to get back at him for the lye comment so you decide to tease him, just to see his reaction, maybe he'll get flustered.

“And here I thought you were inviting me—”

BOOM!

The explosion shoves the entire ship harshly to the left, everyone slides with the movement including the table and chairs. Stew flies everywhere, loaves of bread soar overhead. Shards of sharp wood almost splinter your skin.

You land on the railing of the ship harshly. Opening your eyes through the pain, you see a crate heading your way.

“Fuck–!”

Strong arms grab you by the waist, saving you from getting crushed at the last minute. You hold on to their jacket with wild eyes.

“You alright?” Hobie's words are hushed and soft in your ear. You nod, trying to steady your racing heart. Looking up at him, his eyes roam your face for any injuries.

“I'm okay, what happened—?” noticing that you're still in his arms, you move away, correcting your balance when the ship hurls back to the right position. You try to reach for your necklace, until you remember that it's not there.

He nods once, his concerned face shifting into rage when he hears the sound of cannon balls behind him.

“Unfurl the fuckin' topsails!” He whirls around, directing his crew.

You hear fabric above you unfolding, the large blood red sails fills your vision. It dances in the wind like a macabre waltz.

You follow Hobie's line of sight, he glares at the large ship looming over the distance. The royal navy seal flaps on their bright blue sails.

“The Black Hellion” Hobie spits venom when he says the name. As he says it, a smaller ship appears behind the Hellion, racing to get to the Revenge.

“Fuck” he takes your hand, leading you under the stairs. Your legs drag as the crew rushes to get to their stations.

“Did you lead them here?!” Hobie grabs you by the shoulder, shoving you beneath the staircase, the wood behind you digs into your skin.

“What?! I swear I didn't— I didn't even know who you were until I got off the fucking net!” you stare down his angry eyes, grey swirling like a storm brewing behind it. “I swear on my life I am not navy!”

“You better not be,” He takes a rope from his belt then ties your hands together. Hobie lifts you by the binds effortlessly to a hook hanging above. You're dangling from the metal, the toes of your feet are barely on the ground.

“Hey—! What are you—?”

“We'll talk after this. Stay out of my way” Hobie leaves you behind.

You look at his retreating back in-between the spaces in the stairs. “Hobie! I'm not fucking navy!” you watch as he leads his entire crew with the anger of a lightning storm.

There's drum beats sounding above, bells ringing further across the water. You surmise the battle's only beginning.

Another cannon blasts, you cover your ears with your raised arms. The smell of gunpowder tickles your nostrils. The muffled yells of the pirates makes your head swirl and your heart pump rapidly. You try to jump as high as you can to get out of the hook, but it's too high up.

The boat lunges to the side again, the entire structure shakes. Your body swings and you hit your back against the hard wall. Groaning, your vision blurs for a second. Honing on the action, the navy ship rammed itself on the side of the revenge. You see uniform clad men jump ship, immediately fighting with the people you broke bread with.

There's a clashing of swords, pistols are fired wildly at each other. There's groans and screams of pain. You can't believe a few minutes ago the ship was full of laughter and warmth. Now blood is being spilled on the very floors you've cleaned. The laughter is replaced with agony filled yells and gurgled last words.

A sailor runs at full speed towards you, his sword shining in the moonlight. He yells a battlecry. The thought of them saving you is out of the window.

In an instant, a metal chain wraps around the uniformed man’s neck, he flies back, landing brutally, cracking the wood under him. You follow the end of the chain, you see Hobie dragging the sailor away, yanking and pulling at his neck until you hear a snap. The man lies still, you meet with Hobie's eyes through the stairs, you see a hurricane brewing in them.

He flings the chain back to him, the body thuds lifelessly on the wood. Hobie leaves without sparing you another glance. You've seen death numerous times during your journeys but not like this.

Not in front of you.

You stare at the body, all the noise and clashing of weapons falls deaf in your ears. Your hands shake, chest heaving and skin raising.

You have to get out of here.

Even if you have to chance it with the dinghy, even if you don't know how to row a boat or navigate the deep waters, you're gonna get out of here, out of the chaos and warm crimson that's seeping into the floorboards. You refuse to watch the chaos, but you can't avoid their shadows dancing in the moonlight.

You jump again, nothing. Again. You feel the rope lift up for a second. There's something metallic sliding near you, the knife stops near the foot of the stairs. It's too far away for you to even reach with your foot.

The rope burns your wrists, skin scraping against the rough hemp. It stings, like tear drops, your blood is slowly running down your arm.

You've got a better idea but it's a stretch. You still try it, moving your hands back and forth by swinging side to side, you slowly cut the rope with the sharp edge of the hook. Flakes of hemp fall on your head like snow.

There's a high pitched gasp in front of you, the sound makes you pause. Watching through the stairs, you see Gwen struggle under a large uniform clad man, his hands are around her throat. Squeezing painfully.

You hasten your movements, the rope cuts loose, the second your feet hit the ground, you run.

Grabbing the fallen knife from the ground with hot adrenaline rushing in your veins, you plunge it on the man's thigh swiftly. He screams in agony. You help Gwen up, she coughs loudly, clutching at her bruising neck.

“You fucking bitch!” The man grits his teeth, circling his hand around the handle of the knife still in his skin, he grins a bloodied smile.

You hear Gwen snicker in your arms.

He grabs the knife out of his thigh with a sickening squelch. Blood spurts out of him like a fountain, spraying you with warm ichor. You freeze. Gwen kicks the panicking man in the middle of his chest, he falls like a sack of potatoes on the floor, screaming and trying desperately to stop his bleeding.

You look around the chaos, trying not to listen to the man's pained screams. There's clouds of gunpowder hanging in the air, hiding all the bodies lying on the deck, away from your eyes.

“Gwen.” Hobie's raspy voice echoes out in the silence and atop of the leftover screams of the defeated. He throws her a pistol wordlessly.

Without hesitation, Gwen puts an end to the screaming.

There's complete silence now, the moon still hangs overhead, you wonder if the moon saw everything.

It looks like the pirates won as the navy ship is now commandeered by Hobie's crew. James yells from the mast, flipping the bird towards the retreating Black Hellion.

Shards of broken wood lay next to bodies, both pirates and navy. But the navy looks like it's the one that has suffered more loss. Pistols and muskets are littered around the once pristine deck. The smell of death and burned gunpowder permeates the air.

There's fresh crimson flowing beneath you, drenching the soles of your weathered boots. You feel the warmth spreading under your feet.

A hand claps your shoulder, “you saved me, thank you” Gwen smiles genuinely at you.

A yelp takes both of your attention, a man in a lieutenant’s uniform kneels in front of Hobie, his back being pushed down by Finn's boot.

Hobie crouches down, taking the sailor’s chin in his hand, his nails digging into the man's skin.

“Lieutenant George, your Captain left you to die.” He chuckles without humour. “So much for being called the king's flame, huh?.” Hobie sighs.

The lieutenant spits but Hobie dodges it. “I will use your own limbs to dig your grave! You damn pirate!”

“That doesn't sound practical” He stands up, under Hobie's bloodstained face you see the lines in-between his brows, tired, you know it well. “Take him below, Finn.”

“As for you,” Hobie's bloodshot eyes address you, he smiles, the twinkle in his eyes are back. “Red looks good on you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded, realization hits you. With your sleeves, you wipe your face, smearing the ichor all over your skin more.

“Lock her in one of the cabins.” Hobie says to the men behind you. They take you by the arms.

“Wait—! Why? I told you I'm not one of them!”

“Hobie, come on, she saved my life!” Gwen advocates for you.

“I know, I saw, we're just gonna ask her questions, yeah?” Hobie stands in front of you, in all his blood soaked form. “She has nothin' to worry about unless she's hidin’ somethin’”

You could only glare at him as you're being dragged away, too exhausted from everything.

The rest of the crew watch on. Maybe the stories are right. But for your sake, you hope it's not.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Special thanks to my bestie @thesevenofstaves for helping me out with the titles/names 🫶

❤️Introducing Fluffy Fridays! ❤️

🎉 As part of my 500 celebration, I'm opening my requests for fluff plots, prompts 🎉

Please read before requesting

Rules:

❣️ Request must be Fluffy.

❣️ You can send your request any day of the week, but I'll only upload them on Fridays.

❣️ Plot/prompt should be short and sweet. Fic lengths will be 1000 words or less.

❣️ Hobie x readers only please.

❣️ AU's, headcanons, and imagines are welcome!

❣️ You can send multiple requests in if you wish.

❣️ Requests are only open for Fluffy Fridays. Regular requests are still closed.

❣️ Please send them in my ask box.

❣️ Please read my regular request rules for more in depth rules.

🥳 Fluffy Fridays are open indefinitely, even after the celebration!

🥳 I realised all my current wips are long fics so this is a good palete cleanser for when you want a quick read!

🥳 Regular requests will open after I finish all my current wips, so hold on to your angst and hurt/comfort prompts!

🥳 Thank you again for all the lovely comments, likes and reblogs on my works! You've all made me very happy ❤️ you guys motivate me to improve more on my writing so from the bottom of my heart, thank you!!!