Quick 1 Hour Study 🫶 You May Start To Run From The Rain, Hobie

love that almost every character you see in Wendell & Wild is a person of color from the main lead to the extra characters you see in the classroom.. really makes Tim Burton look like even more of a clown than he already is

SIX THE MUSICAL - MODERN!AU: illustration

Lina's family tree 1/2

'Hobies an ass guy!' this 'Hobies a tits guy!' that

You fools. You absolute fools.

Hobie is a tummy guy.

All tummies and I'm not joking at all in the slightest. ALL. ALL SIZES. Not just the model 'plus size' thing that magazines think is cute. THEM TOO BUT ALL OF THEM TUMMIES. He hasn't come across a tummy he doesn't like and he never will.

Belly button piercings? Lord have mercy. He can't help but stare.

He loves bellies.

That includes rolls or stretch marks or abs or ribs or C-section scars or anything really. Show him the tummy.

He likes people in crop tops or low rise jeans, running his long fingers across the skin. He likes resting his head on people's belly while they speak to him softly, hearing them breathe.

Hobie is a thigh guy.

Give him the Daisy Duke shorts. Thigh high socks for the love of god.

He'll wrap his arms around your leg and never let go. He can watch you do squats for hours (but then again who can do squats for hours 🤨)

You do indoor cycling? That pelaton shit? Hes gonna have to leave the room before he starts saying something slick because he CANNOT take it

Tones thighs in leggings. Really muscular thighs cracking a watermelon. Chubby thighs under fluffy mini skirts. Fat thighs in tight fit jeans or stockings.

'Ass or tits?' My sibling in Christ He's an ARM guy.

Fucking flex for him and he's gonna need a minute. Doesn't matter if you're as scrawny as him. Stretch your arms, he wants to see the ones that are going to deliver him a thousand hugs.

Hobie and hands. His are rough from the guitar playing but he takes his partner's and kisses the back of their hand, turning it over in his, tracing the lines or painting their nails or lacing his long fingers in theirs.

'Ass or tits' Do you know who we're talking about here

Hobie is the most body positive and inclusive person to walk these spider-earths

How dare you limit him He Cannot Be Contained he loves it all

Disabled or Abled. Trans or Cis. Inter or Endosex. Whether you dress modestly or masculinely or you're out here half naked on some Fashion Nova shit. HE LOVES IT.

Ass or Tits cannot contain the magnatude that is Hobie Brown

Oh and also He vaporizes fatphobes and ableists and chasers on sight with his 'i hate bodyshamers' superpower it comes free with the spider bite.

ATTENTION TO ALL WRITERS

attention to all writers please, there is a person on wattpad stealing peoples fanfics on here!!

Please be careful, their wattpad user is @/@Alexx__S4Nt14G0

They stole my steve rogers oneshot TALL BABY and translated it into spanish without permission.

Thanks to the user who warned me and told me abt this!!

What...?!

Like this isn't totally in character for Hobie Brown?

Free Palestine

Ultimate Black Cat is finally here, guys!!!

Ultimate Spider-Man (2024) #11 releasing this November 20!

Between the Devil and the Sea

Pairing: Pirate Captain! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word Count: 115.9k

Synopsis: All your life you've been running away, what happens when you accidentally stow away on an infamous ship that has a captain who's notorious for being the world's most wanted pirate. Will he welcome you as part of his ragtag crew or will you end up walking the plank? Or worse, will your past catch up to you?

Tags: Pirate Captain! Hobie, Fem! Reader, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing occasionally), R has nicknames, Arachkids x Reader (platonic), TW blood, TW violence, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst. Set during the golden age of piracy. Specific Warnings are listed on every chapter.

Masterlist

Navigation

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

*pictures are from pinterest*

Chapter One- Seafoam on the Shore

Chapter Two- Claimed by the Sea

Chapter Three- Amidst the Waves

Chapter Four- Go by the Board

Chapter Five- Sailing Close to the Wind

Chapter Six- Batten Down the Hatches

Chapter Seven- In Deep Water

Chapter Eight- Stem the Tide

Chapter Nine- Plain Sailing

Chapter Ten- Starlight and Seafoam

Chapter Eleven- Salt in the Wound

Chapter Twelve- Like Ships That Pass in the Night

Chapter Thirteen- Sink or Swim

Chapter Thirteen- Sink or Swim II

Chapter Fourteen- Between the Devil…

Chapter Fifteen- …And the Deep Blue Sea

Ocean banner and support banner by @cafekitsune

Custom BDAS banner by: @the-shroom-garden

Reader outfit inspos and ship references.

Hobie outfit inspos and references.

Chapter 13 outfit inspos and references

Submitted by lovelies ❤️❤️❤️

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @rexlroze

Chapter 6 comic panel by @rexlroze

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @missshelleyduvall

Pirate! Gwen fanart by @missshelleyduvall

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @missshelleyduvall

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @idrinkwetcementasproteinshakes

Chapter 3 comic panel by @rexlroze

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @h4m0nyqu3s0

Pirate trio fanart by @h4m0nyqu3s0

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @al1x00

Pirate! Gwen by @h4m0nyqu3s0

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @juvenile-arm

OC Bambi and pirate! Hobie fanart by @dollieduvall

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @idrinkwetcementasproteinshakes

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @juineri

Pirate! Hobie x OC fanart by @megdoesstuff

Pirate! Hobie x OC fanart by @teatoptony

BDAS Charm bracelet by @thats-a-pillow-case

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @pleaktale

Chapter 8/9 fanart by @theres-a-spider-in-my-pillowcase

Chap 15 Hobie fanart by @idrinkwetcementasproteinshakes

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @pleaktale *chap 15 spoilers*

Pirate! Hobie and OC fanart by @megs-insanity

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @idrinkwetcementasproteinshakes

Pirate Hobie and R fanart (spoiler alert) by @strawberrymilkmaiden

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @sareenawails

Pirate! Hobie fanart by @sareenawails

Pirate! Hobie and R fanart by @friendly-neighborhood-mushroom

Threadbare

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

Word count: 5.5k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for their clothing), CW panic attack, injury mention, insecurity, food mention, R has nicknames, angst, fluff.

Main Masterlist

Thread the Needle Masterlist

CHAPTER 4 >>> CHAPTER 5

Your feet hurt, toes aching inside your chucks. You should've worn something comfier. Raising your tired legs a few inches away from the concrete, thinking the elevated position might help with relieving your strained muscles. You sit dejected near the river, disappointed that you couldn't find a flat for Hobie. Your back aches from the not so comfortable metal bench. Your lashes flutter against the cold gust of wind, making you hug your coat tighter around your torso.

Hobie plops next to you, a water bottle in hand. He groaned when he finally got to sit after hours of standing and walking around.

He raises a curious brow "what are you doing? Are you about to take a dive in the river or somethin'?" Hobie points at your lifted legs.

"My feet hurt" you hold your hand out towards the bottle, he hands it to you wordlessly. "Thanks, you drank?" Shaking the half full bottle, Hobie leans against the back of the bench, head lolling off the edge, his long arms spread out over the back of the bench.

"Yeah" he sighs, eyes closed, the sun's rays hitting his face, painting him in a heavenly light.

Taking a sip of water, you glance at him, his loose tank top peeking from under his leather jacket, clavicle on full display. You almost choke on water when you see his adam's apple bop up and down. You cough harshly, Hobie perks up, patting your back as you cover your mouth with your hand, heat on your cheeks.

"The fuck happened?" He asks, half concerned, half teasing.

You happened, you wanted to say, coughing louder, Hobie sits up, still patting your back.

"Maybe you should drink some water," Hobie smirks.

"Funny" you say in between coughs, tears in your eyes. You inhale and exhale, your coughing fit stops almost immediately. You sniff, murmuring a small *goddamnit.

Hobie cups your cheek, wiping at the stray tear that managed to escape your eye. "Maybe someone was thinking of you, that's why you choked" me, it was me, I was thinking of you. He almost blurted out.

You lean into his touch before he takes his warm hand back. "Why in the world would they be thinking of me?" You look at your watch, "at three pm on a sunday of all days?"

"Why wouldn't anyone think of you?" He manages to blurt this one out, his eyes widening for a second, you look at him dumbfounded, hope blossoming in your chest. "you probably owe them money" he plays his first comment off, managing to stay cool even though he was slightly panicking. Your shoulders slump in disappointment, deciding to just ignore the first sentence.

"Shit, you're right I think I still owe Ned twenty pounds. Remind me to pay him before he leaves for Richmond" you lightly push him with your shoulder.

"Sure, I'll definitely remember that" Hobie sarcastically says.

You sigh, staring into the water, you watch as a boat sails by. Hobie notices your drop in mood when you mentioned Ned, he sometimes forgets you're also friends with him, knowing him for years now.

"Gromit, he'll be fine, yeah? He's all grown up, we taught him a lot" He taps your foot with his. You look at him, a frown on your lips.

"You make it sound like he's our kid, and he's leaving the nest"

"Weird way to put it, love" A smile slowly growing on his lips.

"Shut up, you started that weird comparison first, I'm just imitating you" you chuckle, you smile slowly fading away "it's just that–" you look at him, staring and waiting. You wish you brought Terry with you, you find that speaking through him is much easier. "It's nothing"

"Nah, you can tell me." He inches closer to you, the back of his hand on his leg, palm waiting for you.

You gaze down at his hand, fingers itching to hold him, "He's been with you for a long time, Hobs. Even though you've moved from band to band, he's always been your bassist, *always"

"People will always move on. Can't do anything to stop them, sometimes you just gotta wish 'em well" he ducks his head to meet your downturned gaze. "We can always visit him, Richmond's only an hour away"

"That's not what I meant, Hobie" you finally reach for his hand, squeezing it.

"I know what you mean" He holds your hand like it's the most precious thing in the world. "We can't stop their progress just because we don't want them to leave" he squeezes your hand. "People will leave, I've accepted that a long time ago"

"And yet I'm still here" you move closer to him, leg right next to his jean covered ones.

"And yet you're still here" Hobie chuckles despite this, he's never been more afraid of the possibility of having the same conversation with you except you'll be the one leaving him.

You grin at him, lacing your fingers together with his, afraid of letting him go. He sticks to you like a web, pulling you towards his chest, a warm hand on your nape. You cling to him like a spider would, arms enveloping him completely, you both feel the same thing, Home.

Electricity passes through you when Hobie presses a featherlight kiss over the crown of your head, as fast as it comes down it fades mere seconds later when Hobie pulls away from you, hand staying a few seconds longer on your head.

You sniff, blinking away the tears gathering in your eyes. "We still haven't found you a place. Maybe I could hide you in my dorm until we find one?"

"Your RA's a bloodhound, I'm sure she can sniff me out the second I get there" He acts nonchalantly, a comforting arm over your shoulder. You lean back into his arm, his knuckles brushing over your coat. "We've got plenty of time, deadline to leave isn't until after your show, so we're still good"

"Maybe the last place we looked at isn't too bad?"

"Their bathroom had stairs leading down towards the shower, the place is a bloody deathtrap" he scoffs.

"Yeah, I guess slipping and falling on your ass isn't so punk of you" you try to use reverse psychology on Hobie.

"That's not gonna work," a small canal boat floats idly right in front of the bench, "besides they don't allow pets"

"You don't even have a pet" the boat honks loudly, you two ignore it.

"How are you gonna visit me then?" Hobie smirks playfully.

You jab him on his chest with your finger, "Dickhead"

"You got a new insult? Just call me a wanker next time" He pinches your arm, you yelp, poking him some more.

"You wanker" you jokingly glare at him, he finds it adorable, resisting the urge to peck the smirk off of your lips.

He goofily smiles at you, "There you go" his words dripping in fondness.

The boat honks longer and loudly, interrupting your banter. Hobie glares at the intrusion, a middle aged man waves at you two from the boat.

"Boat!" He yells out when he finally gets your attention, pointing enthusiastically at his boat. You look at him confused.

Hobie answers for you, "yeah mate, we can see that" he yells, "good for you!" He turns back to you but the man replies, stopping Hobie from continuing your conversation.

The unnamed man shakes his head, "No! Boat for sale!" He says in an accent you can't quite pinpoint.

Hobie's hand sits heavily on your shoulder, but you don't mind, finding it comforting especially after your emotional talk.

"It's a houseboat!" He points at you both "maybe couple interested? It's very cheap!"

"What are we gonna do with a houseboat?" You whisper to Hobie, he looks like he's contemplating. "Hobs?"

"How much?" He yells towards the man.

"Hobie!" You hold his arm, stopping him from going near the boat, "He seems shady" you whisper.

"He seems cool," Hobie shrugs. "Besides, he said it's cheap, better than having stairs in the bathroom." He moves near the water, you barely make out what they're saying, too concerned that you might get murdered on a houseboat of all places.

—

You stay with Hobie inside the Houseboat, it looks worn out but at least there's no holes in it. The floorboards creak with every move of your feet, and the faucet leaks, the sound annoying you with every drip drop of water on the sink. Standing close to Hobie, you hold onto the sleeve of his jacket, eyes wide awake for any danger, making sure you two don't end up on the nightly news.

The houseboat is smaller than the flats you've looked at hours ago, it has a cozy feel to it, from the narra floors to the adorable navy blue kitchenette. Despite it looking a little worn down, you know it's been well loved, with every scratch and indents on the wooden floor, the chipping paint revealing a different color behind it, they all have history, if only walls could talk. Even with all its flaws, the boat looks taken care of, no bugs eating away at its foundation, no rust on the metal finishings, and best of all no water damage in its interior. This could work.

"You can pay it off in installments" the man, you've now learned, is named Finn. He didn't miss the irony of his name, a man named Finn living in a boat, he made a joke about it earlier that you politely laughed at. Finn continues his sales talk with Hobie.

Maybe it's fate, meeting Finn. You don't think you can handle another go at flat hunting, your feet ache just from the thought of it.

He leads you two to the master's bedroom, big enough for a queen's size bed, and a simple cabinet. There's a small window on the side, the late afternoon sun filters through the opening.

"See?" He walks around the room "big enough for the two of you! Your girl will like the cabinet space" he smiles, his thick beard moving when he talks.

You don't correct him, you don't blame the man especially with how you're clinging on to Hobie. You stare at the peeling paint on the walls, there's a dust bunny on the corner of the floor.

Hobie doesn't chide in, listening intently to Finn's sales talk.

"And look! A bedroom with a view, eh?" He gestures towards the small window like he's presenting on stage. "And listen," He knocks on the walls, "Thick walls for a houseboat, perfect for privacy, eh?" He points to you both.

You look at Hobie, stifling a laugh. He stares back at you with a smirk over his lips. Oh not again.

"You sure 'bout that, mate?" He loops his arm over to your waist, rolling your eyes so far back you're sure you could see your brain. He bites back another quip, just in case it might make you uncomfortable.

"Yes! I'll go outside, and you scream as loud as you can, I'll tell you if I can hear you" he skedaddles out of the room, "be right back!" He leaves the boat completely.

"What if he's calling his friends to help murder us?" You ask actually concerned.

"Y/N," he clicks his tongue, "don't judge a book by its cover, besides you got me to protect you"

"You and those skinny arms of yours? We're both dead, Hobs"

You jump when Finn yells through the open window, "These walls are also perfect for when it rains, you can barely hear it!" He says with a huge smile, you think he's actually excited to show you how sound-proofed the place is. "Close the window then you scream, yes?"

Hobie takes a few steps to reach the window closing the glass, for added effect he also closes the curtains, blocking Finn off.

"He could lie and say he didn't hear us" you say, arms over your chest.

Without warning, Hobie yells loudly, you quickly put your hands over your ears. "You ass!" You yell back.

Hobie laughs from his stomach, taking your hands off your ears. You glare at him.

"Don't you dare yell again, I swear, Hobie you almost blew out my eardrums"

"I don't think you need ear drums in the fashion industry" he's still holding your hands, his rings cold against your palms.

"Well I need it" you hear a knocking from the other side of the window. Hobie releases your hands to open it, Finn's smiling face looks back at you. You think Hobie's right, you shouldn't have judged the man so quickly, he's genuinely a jolly person. His huge arms don't help though, the man could strangle you both without breaking a sweat.

"See? I didn't hear a thing!" He taps the shell of his ear, "no interruptions for you two" he laughs, his guffaw reminds you of Santa's laugh.

"Alright bruv, let me talk it out with her, give us a few minutes, yeah?"

"Of course, I'll be outside. I won't be able to hear anything here anyway!" He chuckles, closing the window shut.

You knit your brows, confused. Hobie saunters towards you, hands on his hip. "What do you think?"

"What do I think?" You blink, surprised.

"Yeah, sure the place needs some polishing" he looks at the bright lime green walls of the bedroom, grimacing. "And a coat of paint. It'll be home by then, not to mention this place only costs a year worth of rent. And there's no stairs inside the bathroom"

"And no carpeted floors in the kitchen." You mention one of the places you looked at earlier in the day, "why do you need my input? It's your place"

"Because there's a second bedroom here" your heart skips a beat at what he's implying, smiling bashfully at Hobie. "There's enough space for us both, you could put your sewing machine over there," he points at a corner in the small living room. "Y'know, after you graduate, if you want to" he looks anywhere else except your face.

"Do you want me to?" You say slowly, making sure what you heard from him is real and not what you've imagined in your head several times before.

" 'course, you're my best mate, why wouldn't I want to"

"O-Oh" you try to say it with less sadness in your voice. He is your best friend, why do you sound so dejected at the title?

"There's no asshole landlord that's for sure, just us" he steps closer to you, trying to convince you more, his hand reaching out towards your elbow.

"Yeah, well technically you'll be my landlord" you tease him, playing with a loose thread from the hem of his tank top.

"Fuck off, don't call me that" He scoffs, rolling his eyes at you, "we'll talk about it after you graduate, yeah?" Hobie's thumb traces circles on your elbow.

"Okay. If you really like this place, you should get it" you nod with approval.

"Do you have the card on you?"

"What for?"

"Well, who's gonna help me fix up this place?" A smile curling on his lips.

"Goddamnit, Hobs" you take out the card from your pocket, handing it to him with a huff. "You only have eight left by the way" you would've helped him anyway, if only you weren't so busy with the project you would've given this one for free.

"I know how to count" He punches out a logo, it floats down on the wooden floors that definitely need some polishing. He gives it back to you "c'mon let's not keep the big man waiting, he might start to think we're snogging in here"

"He won't hear us anyway" throwing away your comment, you walk out of the room, acting nonchalant, your hand shakes slightly when you push open the creaky door. Hobie never anticipated that you would say something like that, he stands in the middle of the barren room, dumbfounded.

Hobie follows you after he collects himself. You walk outside, finally breathing in the cool air, you felt stuffy when you were inside. You look at the water while Hobie negotiates with Finn, they've been talking for a while now, so you decided to occupy yourself. A wave hits the side of the boat, almost throwing you overboard if not for you holding onto the sides.

"You alright there, little lady?" Finn asks. Hobie looks over his shoulder, seeing you hold the side with an iron grip. He quickly makes his way over to you, hands already moving you away from the edge.

"Fuckin' hell, I leave you for one minute" he grumbles.

"I'm okay, jeez dad" Hobie walks you back to Finn, Hand securely on your waist.

"You two are adorable! You remind me of my partner and I when we were younger" Finn sighs longingly.

"Is that why you're selling the boat?" You wince at the question you blurted out, "sorry, not my business"

"It's okay, I like talking about him. We're moving back to Amsterdam so I had to sell the boat. We've lived here for fifteen happy years, hope it's the same for you both" He sounded so genuine, a happy smile on his face the entire time he was talking to you. You don't have the heart to correct him on your relationship with Hobie.

You nod, smiling shyly. "That's really sweet of you, thank you, Finn"

"Thanks, mate. Appreciate you" Hobie shakes Finn's hand, sealing the deal.

"I'll send you the papers" Finn's grin turns melancholy, "never thought I'd ever sell this place, take care of her for me, would you?"

"She's in good hands" Hobie lets go of Finn's hand.

"And you two better take good care of eachother," he winks at you both.

—

You sit in front of your sewing machine, it thumps loudly inside your small dorm room, your mannequin is full of different shades of plaid cloth pinned on its sides, you sigh, blinking away the stress and fatigue.

Glancing at your final design, you scowl at it, despite it looking like a carbon copy of Hobie. You can't figure out what's missing in the outfit, you've added a bit more of you in it, but it still doesn't feel like you.

Your mind is cluttered and it shows in your surroundings. Your sketchpad is full of sketches of Hobie, the corkboard in front of you is littered with punk fashion references, polaroids of you and Hobie together, patches, pins and fabric samples. The loud sound of the machine makes your ears twitch, the needle going in and out of the piece you're sewing into.

Someone knocks loudly from the other side of your paper thin walls for the third time that night, they yell at you to keep it down, but you don't stop, have to finish this, you grit your teeth, grip loosening on the fabric, on your peripheral you can see a picture of Hobie smiling at you, clack, clack, your machine whirs. Knock, knock, the knocking persists. Your ears ring, licking your chapped lips, you keep forgetting to exhale. Mrs. Williams' grating voice echoes in your head, or you won't graduate. Ned's voice overlapping with hers, sorry, y/n. On top of all the noise, you try to focus on Hobie's familiar tone, got you, don't worry. You feel the walls closing in on you.

"Shut the fuck up!" Your neighbor knocks loudly, almost toppling over your corkboard.

You almost slip your thumb over the needle, if not for your reflexes your finger would've been a part of the pants you're sewing. Your eyes are blown out, breathing heavily. You're suddenly overwhelmed by everything, your jumper scratches at your skin, toes curling in the cold despite your fluffy socks covering them. A sob escapes you, you dampen it with your hand over your mouth. Shutting your eyes tightly closed, you focus on your breathing, legs involuntarily shaking, tears rolling over your hand. Your heart drums loudly in your chest, as if it could jump out at any second.

It's getting hard to breathe, you feel sick.

Weathering it out for what feels like an eternity, You finally let it all out of your system, chest hurting from the suppressed crying, your eyes are red. You've grown more tired, heaving from the lack of air. You notice the sudden silence, it almost gets you again, tears pricking in your eyes, threatening to spill out.

Coming down from it, you sniff, using your sleeve to clean your tear stained cheeks. You exhale, clearing your throat. Taking the half finished pants from under the sewing machine, cutting off the thread and then grabbing a spare needle from your kit. Your hands are shaking trying to insert the thread inside the tiny hole. Frustrated, you fling the needle and thread over your messy table. The metal clatters on the wooden table.

The mixture of different emotions swirl inside your stomach, wanting to vomit it out, or better yet, grab it by the neck and toss it as far away as you can.

You want to give up. Shaking your head, getting rid of the horrible thought, you can't give up, you have to keep going, you've made it this far, you're almost at the finish line. Thinking of Hobie, he wouldn't give up, but you're not him, you're just you, plain old you. People often wonder how you manage to stay in your major, with your simple button ups, white chucks, and your usual light cardigans, avoiding any bright colors in your wardrobe or other styles that would gather attention. Compared to your style, your classmates' eye-catching looks match with your major, not to mention they're not afraid to flaunt their unique styles.

Sometimes you miss the old you, the young starry eyed y/n, clothes always in full and bright colors, with matching accessories to boot, shoes sparkling in the light. You don't even remember when you buried your old self.

You miss her, wishing you never listened to the opinion of others, wishing that you never cowered behind their judgemental stares. Hobie never did any of that, but you can't help but hide yourself to stop people from their snickering. You sometimes wish to borrow a smidge of Hobie's don't-give-a-shit attitude, but alas the world doesn't work that way.

You suddenly have the urge to seek Hobie's warmth, instead you settle for the next best thing. Sighing, you crawl under the covers, head hitting the pillow. You're not giving up just yet, there's no shame in resting, you won't be able to finish your work like this anyway.

You eye your old cherry earrings, dangling on the side of your mirror, the only piece you kept from your old self. Mind going back to the past. You remember who helped you pick it from the mall, the only thing you could afford with your allowance. You two would always go there after school, window shopping and hunting for the latest trends. This was before you and Hobie became close, your friendship still blossoming.

You wonder how your old friend is doing, maybe you should call him up, ask him for tips, he's always had a better eye for designing ever since you were kids, considering him a protégé, his hand always scribbling away on his sketchbook.

Bringing the covers up to your nose, you close your eyes, trying to remember your old friend's number.

—

You finally hear Hobie's motorbike coming towards the event's place. People stare at the loud intrusion. You snort, knowing that he likes the disturbance he's causing.

You speed walk towards him, just in case he revs up his engine to spite everyone. "Hey, Hobie" You greet him with a tight lipped smile.

He takes off his helmet with a groan "what's this place? A concert or somethin'?" Hobie squints at the spotlights near the entrance.

"You okay? I made you some coffee. You said you lot played last night" you hand him a small thermos.

"That better not be from our starbucks card"

"No, that thing's expired, I brewed this from my good stash"

He turns his engine off, clambering off the motorbike, his heavy boots thudding against the asphalt. He hesitantly grabs the thermos. "No tea?"

"Nope, ran out of them last night" You take a good look at him, he's wearing his signature leather jacket covered in various pins and patches, his jeans a patchwork of cloth and metal accessories. His piercings shine in the moonlight. "Sorry I couldn't come last night, I needed to finish the pants"

"Fuck me, that's actually good" he says after taking a sip, "it's all right, the show was business as usual"

"I didn't miss anything?"

"Nah, missed you though" Hobie loops his arm over your shoulder, walking towards the entrance "Ned missed ya" he added to hide his first comment.

"The real question is, did James miss me too?" You joke, you're not naïve with how the guy manages to stammer every time you talk to him. Only when you talk to him.

"Everyone missed you" he holds you tighter.

"I better come to the next one then" you pinch his side.

Entering the venue, Hobie stops in his tracks, arm loosening off your shoulder.

"Where the fuck did you bring me?" He stares at the pearlescent runway, the sides full of chairs. Photographers and audiences move towards their seats.

"A runway show!" You nervously grin at him.

"Nah, y'know I don't like big brands, this place reeks of capitalism. Thought you wanted to get shawarma" He glares at you.

"We're gonna eat later, hear me out before you start walking away, please" Hobie narrows his eyes at you.

"Go on"

"This is a small brand, a niche fashion house. This event is this big because it's their first major collection. I promise you their clothes are all from sustainable materials and—" Hobie impatiently taps his foot "—and half of the proceeds go to charity! You know we both share the same sentiment when it comes to clothes. My entire wardrobe came from thrift stores and I recycle the fabrics I used on old projects."

"We haven't been in a thrift store in a while" He grumbles out.

"We can go after the show if you want"

"Now you're just bribing me"

You sigh, "I'm in a designing stump right now and I really need the inspiration, but I'm not forcing you, you can go if you really don't want to watch, I'm not gonna hold it against you"

Hobie stares you down, now under better lighting, he notices the bags under your eyes, your lips dry as bones, his annoyance turns into concern. You're stretching yourself too thin, maybe asking you to accompany him in finding a flat wasn't such a good idea. He mentally notes to retract his previous favor from you.

"Alright, you better not be lying about all that shit you said" He walks towards one of the chairs, pulling you by your sleeve.

"I'm not, Danny told me all about it"

He stops mid stride, "who?"

You sit down by the end of the runway, feeling lucky finding a good seat in front. "Danny from school, you don't remember him?" You pat the chair next to you.

"I literally don't remember anyone, except you and big Terry, him because we used to beat the shit out of each other. And you because I can't seem to shake you" Hobie quips. He sits down next to you.

"You are sooo sweet" you sarcastically say, "Danny's that small kid, with the big glasses. I used to hang out with him before he changed schools"

"You have other friends?" He acts surprised.

Rolling your eyes, you excitedly grab his arm when the light changes, the spotlight follows the first model out on the runway. You watch, taking note of the details on the dress.

Hobie watches your face the entire time, he deciphers your expressions– he translates your pout to mean that you liked it, everytime you narrow your eyes it means you didn't like it. You tighten your hold on him, that means you absolutely loved it. He chuckles when you grimace, oh you did not like that pair of pants.

The show ends, he turns his head towards the stage just in time for you to look at him with a satisfied smile. He nods and claps with you.

You reach for him, "come on, I see Danny over there!" You drag Hobie out of his chair, hand clasped over his.

He lets you hold him, Hobie feels disappointed when you let go of him, flexing his hand as you run up to Danny.

"Holy shit, cherry! You actually made it!" Danny greets you with a bear hug.

You pull away, an arm's length away from him. Hobie lingers behind you, waiting for you to introduce him. "Hi, Danny! Look at you Mr. Bigshot over here!"

"I'm just an assistant," he shrugs.

"Yeah, to the main designer!" You look over your shoulder, excited to reintroduce Hobie. "Danny, you remember Hobie, right?"

"Oh my days! Hobart Brown! My replacement" he playfully puts his hands on his hips. Hobie steps up to greet him.

"And you're not as small as I remember, what happened to the glasses?" He acts as if he remembers Danny clearly. Hobie fists bumps Danny's knuckles. "Call me Hobie, yeah? Only cops call me Hobart, and her, occasionally" He points at you with his head.

"Growth spurt and I got contact lenses, it's nice to see you again, hero"

So he's that Danny, Hobie finally remembers him.

You grin widely at the interaction, feeling energized and inspired. "The show was amazing! Thank you for inviting us"

"You're very welcome, unfortunately I can't hang around that long, gotta help them pack up" Danny points towards the back stage, "we'll catch up next time, okay?"

"Aww, that's too bad, thank you again. And yeah definitely we'll catch up some other time" you give your old friend a hug.

"Oh! I almost forgot, you asked for some advice on the phone, right?" Danny asks, you nod at his question. "Do whatever the hell you want, design whatever you fucking want, as long as you're happy with it, you're golden" he gestures widely while he talks. "I mean look at me! I'm wearing a pinstripe suit, I look like a fuckin' mobster from the 20's, do i give a shit what people say? No! Of course not."

Hobie leans down to your ear, slyly whispering "I can see why he's your friend, man's bonkers"

You bump your shoulder with Hobie,"That's– thank you, I needed that" you can't believe that Danny noticed your different style, even years later he still knows you.

"See, I still know you," he says as if he can read your mind. He winks at you, "missed you, cherry. Take good care of yourself" Danny walks away, he stops walking for a second, turning back to you both. "Oh! And Hobie, be a fucking man bruv, you're not fooling anyone" He continues to walk towards his destination.

Hobie looks surprised, was he watching you two interact while he was backstage? Did you say something to him? Nevertheless in the five minutes Danny talked to him, he read him like an open book. Can this guy read minds? If so, Hobie is in trouble.

You look at Hobie confused. "What did he mean by that?"

At least one theory is debunked, "don't know, love. Told you he has a few screws loose"

You look at him suspiciously, "you didn't say anything to him right?"

"No, why? Did you say anything to him?"

"I just asked him on the phone if we can meet, and he invited me here. I mentioned you and he told me to bring you too, that's it. Oh and also for the advice" you narrow your eyes "you sure you didn't say anything?"

"Why are you looking at me like that? No, I didn't" He tugs at your sleeve, trying to pull you out of the venue.

"Okayy, well he basically called you a wanker, soo"

"You called me a wanker, wanker"

You gasp, feigning hurt, clutching your non-existent pearls. "How dare you"

"You're just fuckin' hungry, c'mon" He slips his hand over yours, pulling you out of the event's place, dodging any questions you have because of what your old friend said. You giggle as he easily pulls you towards his bike.

He places you next to his motorcycle, plopping your helmet over your head, you laugh at his antics, "oh you're hangry, huh?"

Hobie secures the helmet, "he's right, y'know"

"Hmm? About what?" You look up at him through your lashes.

"Wear whatever you want. Don't hide yourself, especially with me." he shrugs "red suits you best, cherry" he clicks his tongue at the last word, annoyed that your old friend came up with a better nickname for you. Heat rises in your cheeks, Hobie avoids your eyes for a moment. "Let's go, I want shawarma" he lightly slaps the top of your helmet.

You look down at your shoes, smiling fondly.

A/N: I promise that Finn and Danny are the last ocs in this story (maybe lol). Thank you for reading! As always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

*pictures above are from pinterest*

Lace

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

Word count: 4.7k

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

My Navigation

Thread the Needle

CHAPTER 6 >>> CHAPTER 7

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hobie notices your downturned gaze, "you okay–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You throw your anger at the first thing you see.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Me too" Ned says.

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

"Still, I'm sorry," saying it softly. You don't miss the way they avoided asking you if you're okay.

"You're the one with the black eye" Hobie stands up, "can I talk to you?" He asks.

"We'll see you later, yeah?" Ned places a comforting hand on Hobie's shoulder. "As for you," Ned looks at you, "you've got my number, call me whenever or better yet visit me sometime"

You manage to crack a small smile, "I will" you stand up, giving him a hug, squeezing your friend. "Richmond's only an hour away" letting him go, you give him a sad smile.

"That's right, I'm only an hour away" Ned pats your shoulder.

Yuri steps in, holding both your hands, "and I'm just in Cambridge" she hugs you tightly, "don't be a stranger, yeah?"

"I'll come visit you whenever I can then" you squeeze her hands.

"You better" Yuri gives you her rare ten megawatt smile.

"Yuri and I will be classmates so you can visit me too if you want" James pats your back awkwardly.

"Fuck off, no we're not" Yuri scrunches her nose at James.

"We'll see you at the after party, Hobie?" Ned asks the unusually quiet man next to you.

The after party, where she will be waiting for Hobie. You try not to think about it, mentally chastising yourself.

"Nah, I have to get ready for her show."

"That's rescheduled actually, it's happening next week instead of tomorrow" you correct him. Hissing when your skin tugs at your eye.

"We'll be there then if you ever decide to pop in" Yuri informs Hobie.

"Alright, see you" Hobie waves them off. Sitting back down you watch them walk away with sad eyes.

"Can I have my ice pack back?" You groan when the pain pinches your eyelids.

"It's basically water, I'll get you a new one" He moves towards the nurse. You sit there, contemplating the past events.

The green monster peeks back out, shaking its cage, shackles straining against its leg. You try to move away from the image of her hands wrapped around Hobie's necklace that you've given him three birthdays ago, cherry red lipstick sticking to his cheek. The way he looked at her, the fucking pain in your eye. You start seething again, wanting to punch something.

You sigh, palms over your tired face, avoiding your injured eye.

"You al–" he stops himself, walking on eggshells. You don't want him doing that around you. "Here's your ice pack, the nurse said you don't have a concussion so I can take you home. Only if you want to" Hobie hands you the ice pack.

"This seems familiar, huh?" You wince at the cold hitting your skin, trying to cut the tension.

"What?"

"Can you fucking sit down for a second" you gesture towards a chair.

Hobie sighs, sitting down backwards on the chair, resting his chin over the plastic back of it, arms wrapping around it.

"When we first met? Remember that? It was almost exactly like this"

He lets out a breathy laugh, "Right, you threw that sketchbook at Terry. Yuri's right, you've got a dangerous arm"

"Should've gone into baseball, or volleyball at least" you avoid his stare. "We were sharing an ice pack, while we bad mouth Terrence" chuckling sadly at the memory. You don't regret meeting him that day, if you could do it all over again even after knowing what will happen, you would, without question.

"Will you fucking look at me" Hobie asks softly, you jump slightly at his angry tone. "Can you tell me what's eating you, is it the project?"

You wait a few seconds to bravely look at him, your face unreadable. "It's not the project"

"Is it really rescheduled, or you're just trying to get rid of me?" Hobie narrows his eyes at you. You can't read him, his expression flat, except for the slight scowl.

You shake your head, "Why the fuck am I trying to get rid of you? Mrs. Williams had a change of heart and gave us an extension, that's it!" The conversation escalates, frustrated at Hobie for implying that you're getting rid of him. You would never.

"Then why are you angry?" He doesn't raise his voice, he never does, and he won't ever start to.

"Because! I'm–" you hear a loud cough, the nurse glares at you two. Hobie notices, standing up.

"C'mon let's go inside" He stands up.

"Yeah, because arguing inside a museum is much better"

"You think those fucks care about a museum?" He points towards the concert with his thumb, "I looked inside, no one's in there. They're all going to the after party anyway"

Sighing, you want to go home, but knowing Hobie, he won't relent. You wouldn't dare to go to his place instead, not wanting to taint your future home with a fight. Your dorm is out of the question, it's almost midnight, your RA wouldn't let Hobie in. You don't want to run from this, even if it means lying to his face.

"Give me the bloody card" He asks for the favour card tucked inside your pocket.

"You're gonna use one on this?" You hand it to him.

"Yes" he pops one off, Hobie doesn't want to ruin his relationship with you, especially with him not knowing the cause of your anger. So he's willing to do anything to prevent that. The wind carries the logo somewhere.

You wish you're that piece of paper right now. Only seven to go.

—

Walking around the futuristic room, the walls white and pristine, covered in blue neon lights. It looks like you're in one of Ned's favourite sci-fi movie, you can't quite make out the title though. The entire place is silent, with only a handful of people walking around, the only sounds are from displays, machines whirring in the background, and noises made by the displays' speakers. They opened up the museum really late for the concert as a promotion even though most people only stayed for the show.

You stop in front of a display, a projection of some enhanced spider lifting something that's apparently fifty times heavier than its weight. Sitting down on a bench in front of the display, eyes glued to the presentation.

Hobie sits next to you, giving you space. He watches the projection's glow on the side of your face, making it look like there's a giant spider crawling on your skin.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you" you finally break the silence. "I shouldn't have done that, you were only trying to help," eyes still watching the educational video. Taking a deep breath, "Why do you think I'm trying to get rid of you?"

"It's nothing" he watches as the enhanced spider bites another spider, fighting with it.

"It's clearly nothing" you scoff, "that's the first thing you thought of when I told you that the show's rescheduled"

Hobie wishes he brought Terry with him, his leg bouncing, a nervous habit of his. "I'm holding you back." He confesses, wincing, regretting it almost immediately.

Your neck snaps to look at him, "You're not, why would you think that?" You sound angry, but your concern for him wins over. "Why?" Tentatively scooching over, you close the distance, cupping his hand in yours. "If anything I'm holding you back, you could've gone anywhere after you left school. Yet you stayed"

Hobie raises his brow at you, scoffing. At first you thought he'll pull away his hand, instead he drops his forehead on your shoulder, fitting right in. He feels the roughness of your denim jacket, squeezing your hand.

The projector's light envelopes you two in emerald green as it switches to a different scene.

"Why do you think I'm still here?" He finally answers after a few seconds. It felt like hours for you.

"Because I'm your best friend" you say softly.

"Best mates don't look at each other like we do" he gathers all his courage, tired of all the pushing and pulling, tired of being selfish, locking his feelings from you. Hobie cranes his neck up to look into your familiar eyes. The same eyes he's longed for. He's so close to you he could see himself in your glassy eyes.

Your heart beats a thousand times per second, Hobie cups your jaw, gaze falling on your slightly parted lips. You hold his wrist, thumb right on his hastening pulse, you cup his jaw with your free hand, hand soft against his slight stubble.

"Best mates don't touch each other like this," he continues.

Your eyes wander around his face, looking for any lies of what he's told you, flabbergasted at his confession. Your breath is seemingly stuck in your throat, heart stuttering when he slowly closes the gap between you.

You don't pull away.

You can feel him tugging at the loose thread, it feels like it's tightening around you instead of breaking you two apart at the seams. The dam has a sizable crack in its foundation, threatening to burst open.

Hobie leans towards your lips, now or never, he sees you flutter your eyes close, taking it as a sign to seal your lips with his. He feels a crawling sensation on his back, ignoring it, thinking it's his nerves acting up. His heart pounds like a drum, he can't back down now.

"Agh! Fuck!" Hobie suddenly screeches, hands flying towards his nape.

"What? What is it?!" You panic, turning him around, yelping when you see a bright spider latched on his neck. "Fuck!"

"What is it?!"

"Spider!" You try to fling it away using your sleeves, avoiding touching the arachnid.

"It fucking bit me!" Hobie slaps his neck in one swift movement, the spider lays dead, still latched on his skin. "Did I get it?"

"Yeah, let me just–" you take a handkerchief from your pocket, taking the spider away from his skin, "there, got it" showing the spider laying on your pink handkerchief. "Oh god it's red"

"You think it's venomous?"

You laugh wholeheartedly for the first time that night.

"I'm serious, I could die from this" Hobie pokes the spider.

Like it's comedic timing, the narrator from the educational video says, "it's not venomous but it is advised to seek professional help when bitten by the wolf spider, some people could be allergic to their bites–"

Staring at each other, "wow" you manage to say at the same time, you giggle nervously, having no idea how to proceed with how things are now.

"It doesn't look like the wolf spider, they're a different color" Hobie pokes the spider to look at its underbelly, "yeah, different one" he acts as if he's suddenly interested in arachnology.

You look at him with so much endearment, your eyes are practically shaped like hearts.

"What?" Hobie catches your staring, a smile playing on his lips.

"Nothin'" you taunt him with a cheeky smile. He rolls his eyes at you but his smile betrays him.

The intercom rings out, "The museum is now closed, sorry for the early closing" a nasally voice says. "There has been an incident in one of our displays, please leave the museum in an orderly fashion"

Hobie clears his throat, hand scratching at his nape, also not knowing what happens now. "I'll take you home," He stands up, offering you his hand.

"Okay" you feel giddy as you take his outstretched hand. It feels familiar yet oh so different now. You've finally got confirmation about his feelings towards you, no matter how vague it was. You two have all the time in the world to discuss it. You've waited this long, you can endure a few more days of tiptoeing around each other. Baby steps, you think.

Swinging your intertwined hands, you look up at him. "Do you think the incident that they're talking about is this spider?" You pat your jeans pocket where the covered spider is kept. "Like it came out of its enclosure or something?"

"They don't have live specimens here, probably not" he entertains your question, squeezing your hand.

You both leave the museum, hand in hand. Ignoring an alarm blaring from somewhere.

—

You hug Hobie's leather jacket tighter around you, the cold air biting at your cheeks, helping numb the pain in your eye. Hobie takes your helmet off for you, the simple action he's done a million times before makes your heart skip a beat. You watch him with curious eyes, waiting for something to happen between you. The large brick building that houses your dorm looms overhead.

You notice him sweating despite the cold, "How do you feel?" You ask, concerned.

"I feel fine" he takes your helmet back towards the compartment of his motorbike. "Why?"

You step over to him, your palm feeling his forehead for a sign of a fever. "You're sweating, it's like fifteen degrees, why are you sweating?" He leans into your touch, sighing a bit.

"It's because I'm bloody fit" Hobie smirks, winking at you playfully.

You roll your eyes, "what if you're actually allergic to that spider bite? We might need to get you to a hospital" pulling back your hand to your side.

"I'm fine, seriously. I have no idea why I'm sweating though" He wipes his moist forehead.

"Okay. I can come with, just to make sure you don't have a weird reaction to it"

"You'll come to the after party?"

"You're still going to that?" Why? She'll be there, you bite your tongue, jealousy gripping you again. He's not going because of that, right?

"Yeah, It'll probably be the last one with the band, I want to make the most of it"

"Okay, just be careful" you wrap your pinky around his, "ask the others for help if you suddenly feel sick, please?"

"I will. Go to bed, you're knackered. Get some ice on that once you wake up, yeah?"

You bravely stand on your tiptoes to reach his cheek, kissing his skin softly. It feels just right, like your lips were perfectly molded for his cheek. Hobie seems like he ran out of air, frozen into place. He has no idea where to put his hands, your waist seems to be a little suggestive, arms seems to be more on the friendly side, if he grabs the back of your neck, Hobie's afraid he might pull you in for a kiss, which you might not want right now. So he settles for your shoulder, it feels awkward still.

You pull away, seeing a very rare sight of a flustered Hobie. Almost giggling, you clamp down, not wanting to tease him more or he might start hiding this kind of face he's currently making. His pupils are blown out, mouth agape. He returns to his nonchalant expression when he notices you biting your lips to stifle your giggling.

Grabbing his hands in yours, you bat your lashes, "Drive carefully, please?"

Hobie pulls you in by your belt loop, hugging you, his chin rests on the crown of your head, long arms enveloping you. He pokes your scalp with his chin. Your laugh pierces through the dark.

"Yeah, yeah" Pulling away, he carefully grazes his forefinger over to your black eye. "Sorry, 'bout this"

"Not your fault. Thank you for jumping in to save me, even if I yelled at you after" you look at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, again"

He shakes his head, not knowing the exact words to reply to you. Rubbing your leather clad arms, he stops when he reaches your hands. "Keep this for tonight, you can bring it back to me tomorrow, yeah?" Hobie subtly asks you out.

You grin at him asking for you to come visit him the next day. "Mm-hmm, I was gonna visit you anyway. You're due for a fitting"

"Yeah? Finished our baby then?" An excited smile appears on his lips.

"Almost, I think you'll like it" You say smugly.

"You made it, it's a guarantee I'll like it"

—

You adjust the weight of your heavy bag on your shoulder, walking along the water towards Hobie's houseboat. Grinning at the familiar boat, you speed walk to the doors. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, excited to see Hobie again after last night, After his 'confession'.

Hugging his leather jacket around your torso, moving the bag slightly away, just to show him that you didn't forget to bring it with you.

Knocking, you call out to Hobie. "Hey, it's me!"

The boat rocks a bit to the side, tilting your head, curious at what might've caused its movement since the river is calm. Finn is right, you can't hear anything happening inside. The boat tilts again, you hold onto the wall for support.

You knock again, "Hobie! Are you okay in there?"

Hobie finally answers the door, it swings wildly, sweat dripping on his bare chest, still in his boxers, his wicks uncharacteristically standing in messy angles. Gripping the doorknob in an iron hold, his chest heaves up and down like he's run a marathon, or like he just–

Hobie seems like he can't properly construct a proper sentence, he blinks at you through watery eyes, licking his dry lips.

You were about to ask him if he's okay, you freeze in place, face falling when a female voice rings somewhere inside– "Hobs?"

You feel a hole caving in your heart, leaving a Hobie shaped chasm, eyes glistening in the morning sun, you don't even wait for his explanation. You just run, run as fast as your legs could take you. You have no idea where to go. Your heart is shattering with every step, you have no time to pick up the pieces, leaving it scattered in the wind.

You can hear Hobie yelling your name, ignoring his urgent calls, you sprint away.

A/N: Everything will make sense in the next chapter 😉 thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it, it encourages me to write more ❤️

*pictures above are from pinterest*

Hobie sleeping in a field cuz he's tired

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