Hobie Brown X Reader - Blog Posts

A Right Fool Indeed

Hobie tries his damnedest to keep you content and loved, always ensuring that you have little trinkets from him and that you know that you're loved with written reminders placed around the flat, however he can't always keep his promises of attending date nights time and time again due to something going haywire in the spider society, so, naturally on the fourth attempt of date night with Hobie being an no show, you give him the dreaded silent treatment.

Hobie enters through your shared flat door, in well consideration of your "no dimensional warping or teleporting in the house" rule you've set in place after too many incidents of being crashed into or something breaking due to his fashionable arrival and exits. He is also well prepared to suck up for missing yet another date night, having stopped along your favorite park to gather some flowers, gripping them carefully in his right hand.

He rolls his shoulders, calling out to you that he's home as he shuts the door behind him. he slugs off his vest, placing it on the coat rack to the side of the entryway before making his way further inside, searching for you. "Babe? Are you home?" He calls out once more, looking around in mild confusion, you usually would inform him if you left the apartment before he came back from an mission.

He keeps looking around, his face growing more and more confused each time as he turns up empty handed. That is, until he reaches the bedroom, opening the door with a soft creek of the old wood, Hobie's eyes finally land upon you, laying on your belly as you read a book. He brightens, walking further to kneel in front of you on the bed.

"Hello my little trouble n strife, I was looking for you." He smiles, his handful of flowers coming up to offer them to you, right beside your book as he peers down at it. "Now, I know, I've missed another date night and I truly am sorry, honest." He rambles meaningfully, "I nicked you some flowers from McAllen Park, the one where the little daises and daffodils are, plucked some just as an peace offering-" He looks up, and pauses, you...you haven't even looked up at him, matter of fact, you haven't spoke his ear off as he expected when he came within your view.

Hobie gives a small nervous chuckle, bringing his hand to wave out in front of your face, trying to figure out if you're truly that invested in your book. You merely blink, your eyes moving to side to side as you read each word with almost chilling nonchalance. Hobie only stares at you, his confusion growing each second longer than you read, not greeting him or anything.

Slowly, realization sinks in as you continue to ignore him. 'fuuuuck me' he thinks in his head, he leans closer, and lets his head fall upon the covers of the mattress in front of your book, as well as the flowers and groans. "Sweetheaaaart, are you that angry with me?" His muffled voice murmurs through the fabric of the mattress. You, as stubborn as ever, remain silent and keep your focus on your book.

Hobie looks up from having buried his head in the mattress to gauge if you're looking at him, or, at the very least not reading anymore, he only pouts slightly as he realizes his sweet partner wouldn't be his sweet partner without being as equally if not more stubborn than him.

Hobie places his hands in a begging motion on top of the bed, looking up at you with the most pitiful expression he can manage. "I know, darlin' I have no right to expect your forgiveness, it isn't fair to you that I can't attend the dates we plan and it breaks my heart that I can't be on time, or there at all. I'm a right fool-" that seems to catch your attention, as you close your book with a small thump, finally looking up at him and nod, with a matter of fact look on your face.

Hobie pauses, before repeating the phrase that got your attention, "I'm a right fool?" He questions, and at that you merely nod and smile satisfied with his conclusion, sitting up on the bed and walking out of the room, taking your book with you but you don't acknowledge Hobie other than that. Hobie stands, turning around to watch you leave with a befuddled look on his handsome features.

"Well, I'll be damned." He breathes, realizing the pure amount of effort and time he will have to put into getting you to speak with him again, he smiles and shakes his head. "That's my love, stubborn as a damn mule." He murmurs before walking out behind you, already thinking of ideas to break your silence.

Not today

(Warning: The following short story involves smut! Do not read if you feel uncomfortable with that topic!)

I begin to stir from my sleep at the sound of my alarm clock buzzing on the nightstand, moving to turn it off with a sluggish hand. But, I don't have the chance to since I feel Hobies arm slug over mine and his fist connects with it first.

I'm instantly awake at the feeling of small parts of the alarm clock pelting my face. "Babe!" I hiss, and Hobie merely hums and snuggles into my shoulder as if he didn't just smash the fifth alarm clock in a row.

"That was the fifth alarm clock." I deadpan.

"Yea? Thought it was the seventh..." Hobie murmurs into my shoulder, his eyes remaining closed as he attempts to go back to sleep. "I'll getcha 'nother one later."

I shuffle away from him, and lay on my side to glare at him much to Hobies distain as he scoots closer, trying to steal my body warmth underneath the covers.

"I can feel your glare, baby. Jus' go back to sleep wit me." The end of his voice turns into a slight whine as he opens his beautiful brown eyes to give me a small pout.

I continue to glare at him, before briefly rolling my eyes at him. "You're not winning this." I huff, "You can't keep breaking my alarm clocks." My glare moves towards Hobies hand that's creeping up my thigh.

"Course, love. I could make it up to you?" Hobie's sleep thick voice suggests, his eyes flickering down to rest where his hand is stroking the skin of my upper thigh, drifting very close to the leg opening of my loose pajama shorts.

My glare falters just for a moment at the touch of his hand but my stubborn streaks proves hardy as I keep up the glare, shaking my head. "You can't possibly make up for breaking that many alarm clocks." I quietly scoff, Hobie's eyebrows quirk up at that.

"You're sure?" Hobie says softly, scooting closer to me and with familiar ease, positions my leg over his sweatpants clothed hip, laying right beside me now and my eyes flutter briefly, but I shake my head. "Nope." Even going extra by popping the P on the word.

Hobie merely snickers, and nods in false agreement. "Such a brat." Hobie breathes before one hand moves up to my chin, tilting my head up and leaning his head down to my throat, pressing soft kisses and nibbles to the sensitive flesh.

"This isn't fair." I groan softly, but make no protest to move my chin from his gentle grip nor shuffle away from him and Hobie hums in agreement against my throat. "Life ain't fair, love." As he continues his kisses his other hand moves into the hem of my pajamas pants, slipping effectively past thin barriers, his fingers delving in between already slick folds yet not entering.

"Mmfh-" I bite my lip to not give in entirely to Hobie, not letting him hear how his kisses or touches affect me. Hobie chuckles at my attempt to quiet myself, leaning back to look at me, hair still wild from sleep and cheeks flushed as his finger expertly teases around my sensitive nub, yet never directly touching it.

"You're still sure I can't make it up to you?" He asks, tilting his head as a small cocky smile finds itself on his lips, and my eyes are practically glued onto his smile, wanting absolutely nothing more than to kiss them bruised and breathless.

"I can't, I have to go to a lecture-"

Hobie scoffs at my words,before nudging my leg open further with his own and flipping the position to hover above me with one arm above my head, fingers still teasing sensitive flesh. "Not today, you're not." He says, before leaning down and kissing me deeply, his tongue already swiping my bottom lip for access and at this moment, I've never agreed with Hobie more.

Not today.

I don't get jealous

For once, on the way home from watching Hobie and his band play down at the new pub that has opened up, McGregors, Hobie is silent on the ride home, only murmuring soft replies to whatever question or comment I say to him, an deep in thought expression on his handsome face.

I frown as the bus we're on stops and Hobie gently grabs onto my hand and leads me to the front, and down the steps, and off of the bus giving a small two fingered salute to the bus driver, who Hobie knows and is allowed free rides from.

I give a polite wave to the bus driver and the man in the black cap nods before driving off and Hobie begins to walk, moving his hand from holding mine to gently holding the loop on the side of my pants as we walk together towards our apartment.

Its about a five minute walk but still Hobie is silent, brushing his thumb over the hip part of my pants in casual affection and that only makes me think harder. 'he doesn't seem angry at me...so what is going on?'

Once we reach our apartment, Hobie swiftly grabs onto the key ring on his own belt loop, taking if off and unlocking the door with familiar ease before replacing the key ring back onto his belt loop gently pushing me inside before himself.

"Is everything alright, babe?" I ask softly, taking off my jacket and placing it on the wooden coat rack beside our door. Hobie merely gives a small dismissive hum, "Yeah, I'm alright, keen as a peach." He murmurs, shedding his own jacket, placing it beside mine before walking further into our apartment.

My eyebrows furrow together at the dismissive tone, and I begin to trail Hobie, following him into our bedroom to where he's sat on our bed, untying his boots.

"You haven't said an actual sentence that isn't dismissive, since we left the pub. What is going on?" I ask, kneeling in front of him with concerned eyes.

Hobie looks up from untying his boots, and there's an small scowl on his face but I already know it isn't directed at me. "One of the blokes had the gawl to gauke at you after the show, I seen him in the crowd watching you like you weren't nothing but a pretty face." He huffs, tone coming out more irritated, but he continues. "Then, the new guy on bass, Archie or whatever asked if you n' me were serious-" Hobie's rant is cut off by an irritated groan, finally untying both of his boots with more than needed force.

I put my hands out in front of me in a calming gesture, "Woah, woah, sweetheart. It's okay." I say, trying to cool Hobies irritable and upset mood, I bring one hand up to cup Hobies cheek, gently stroking my thumb over his flushed cheek.

"It's alright to get jealous, I get jealous sometimes too-" I'm cut off by Hobie narrowing his eyes at me, as he tongues the inside of his cheek. 'oh boy'

"I dont get jealous." He scoffs lightly as if the mere idea is ridiculous, crossing his arms over his chest as he glares at me half heartedly.

I quickly begin to backtrack, nodding. "Of course..but it isn't a bad thing that you might be." I say, trying to reassure him but that doesn't seem to be a good enough answer for Hobie as he keeps his narrowed gaze on me, jaw clenching and unclenching.

I don't have a moment to react before Hobie leans forward, placing his hands behind my thighs as I'm still kneeling in front of him and gently lifts me up into his lap, effectively making me straddle his thighs.

I can't get a word in either as Hobie leans his head into my neck, breathing in my scent and the tension practically melts away from his body. "I don't get jealous." He repeats softly, pressing soft kisses to the pulse point of my neck, his hands finding my hips to bring me closer to him.

I only breathe out an agreeing "Uh-huh" as my hands tangle in the back of his hair. 'this is going to be an interesting night' I think to myself, cheeks flushing from the incoming thoughts as Hobies lips go lower...

Sickly Sweet Part II

I shuffle about in the kitchen, buttering two pieces of toast onto a plate before walking over towards the stove, stirring the pot of soup with the spoon sticking out of it. The atmosphere is almost peaceful if it weren't for the sound of a ball bouncing off of a wall coming from the bedroom down the hall.

Tap...tap...tap.

Then silence.

"Baaaaaabe?" Hobies stuffy voice rings out from the open bedroom door, and I can't help the small tinge of frustration in my tone.

"Yes, Hobie?" I call back over my shoulder, opening up a cupboard above the stove to grab a tray as well as a bowl for the soup.

Another beat of silence passes.

"That ain't right...you callin' me by my government name jus cause you're upset with me." He whines.

At that, I can't help but roll my eyes.

"Well, sweetheart if you weren't kissing all up on me when I was sick we wouldn't be in this position." I throw over my shoulder, before facing the soup once more, filling it up to the brim with homemade chicken soupy goodness, placing it on the tray next to the two slices of toast on the small plate.

Another beat of silence before a sneeze rings out from the bedroom, an small irritated groan following afterwards. I begin to walk towards the bedroom, tray in hand and once I enter the doorway I'm greeted with the sight of Hobie, burrowed underneath at least four blankets with a cold compress on his head looking absolutely miserable.

"I ain't pleading the fifth..." He murmurs, looking at me with tired puppy dog eyes, the lack of eyeliner apparent due to him feeling too sick to put any on himself but his natural eye bags are as present as ever. I give an amused huff as I walk closer, setting the tray of hearty food on the makeshift-crate before sitting beside him.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, removing the cold compress on his forehead and replacing it with the back of my hand, checking his temperature. 'still hot' I think to myself.

"Miserable, I think this may be it for me." Hobie grunts, but leans into my hand regardless of how gross he feels right now.

"I'd like to write my last will and testament." He groans. "You'll get everything of course, lovey, but Pav gets my record player, he's been eyeing it for months I swear it-" I interrupt Hobie's tangent with a gentle shove to the forehead, making him lay down on the pillows.

"You're not dying, my god. Are you always this insufferable?" I question although I already know the answer, and letting out a small laugh, I had the same thing not even a week ago and I wasn't nearly as bad as Hobie.

Hobie merely sniffles, and nods. "You love that about me." He comments, familiar cocky smile shining on his lips.

I merely sigh and nod, "Yes, I do love that about you." Unable to stop the small smile of fondness in my face, my hands move and gather the tray of food from the side table, and place it on his lap.

"C'mon, eat and get your strength up." I gently urge, and Hobie sits back up, eyeing the food before taking one of the toasts from the plate and dipping it into the bowl of soup before tearing a bite out of it. He hums in quiet delight at the taste before swallowing.

"Thank you, Sweet pea. Mean it." He says, tired eyes squinting up as he smiles at me, before snuggling himself further into the pillows behind him.

"I don't suppose your bedside manner includes kisses and cuddles?" He suggests with a cheesy smile and eyebrow wiggle, taking another bite of the soup damp toast.

I let out a laugh, shaking my head. "Not happening." I say to which Hobie nods, shrugging his shoulders. "Was worth a shot." He smiles anyway.

Hobie Brown Boyfriend Headcanons

This man, respectfully, would be an asshole. He's the type to kick the back of your knees when you're walking in front of him, and say. "Oops, my foot slipped." With a shit eating grin on his face.

But he's also a sweetheart, the type to patch up your bag if it got snagged on something or ripped a hole into it, even adding some cool patterned fabric to make it "pop".

Hobie gives me acts of service and physical touch love languages, always needing some form of his body touching you, be it an arm slung over your shoulder as you walk, his feet in between yours underneath the table while you eat across from one another.

This man, is not possessive but is protective, HUGE difference, he doesn't care if he sees you partying on the other side of the club, he would actually encourage you to let loose, but the minute someone makes you uncomfortable? He's glaring at them, whisking you away but not before "accidentally" shoulder checking the person as he walks past, and pickpocketing their keys, throwing them outside the first chance he gets.

Hobie, would be absolutely dreadful to wake up in the mornings, snuggling you close to his form and refusing to let go. "Love, schedules are propaganda, don't encourage it." He would murmur, half asleep still.

If you were sick, lord help you. This man would either baby you, or "help" (force) you to sweat it out. "Baby, jus let it happen, you want to feel better don't you?" He would say, wrapping you in blankets upon blankets yet still placing a cool rag to your forehead, monitoring your temperature constantly and chastising you if you tried to leave the bed, (escape).

Hobie would absolutely help you in dying your hair, having experienced more than enough of dying his own and previous mate's hair. He would put on a punk rock playlist on in the background as he helps parting your hair, nodding his head along with the music and murmuring/full on singing the lyrics, even encouraging you to join him. "C'mon, sing wit' me, you know you want to."

It's the small things.

Being invited into a multidimensional spider society to protect the welfare of many universes isn't quite how I expected my past few months to go.

But, I'm not complaining. Until now that is.

I'm currently walking around HQ on one of the many platforms dodging busy spider people of all types, having finished my idle task work of patrolling my own dimension as well as a few others has left me rather bored.

I give a small almost inaudible groan as I keep walking, glaring down briefly at the boot on my left foot, the main reason and to my irritation, cause for my lack of blood rushing and interesting assignments being assigned by Miguel.

'You crush your foot one time and suddenly, you're at the bottom of the interesting assignments food chain' I think, grumbling to myself.

Thankfully, some of the other spiders have been able to cheer me up at times that they aren't on their own missions, Gwen often coming by to offer a listening ear, while Pavitr often distracts me from my feelings with snacks he thinks I may like and Hobie...well, Hobie has been asking some odd questions.

I'm too busy in my grumbling to notice Hobie pushing himself off of the nearby bench upon spotting me coming into his view, until he's walking right alongside me, slowing his usual quick paced steps to compensate for my boot-amplified limp.

"You still narky then?" Hobie hums beside me, watching me out of the corner of his eye as he keeps slow pace beside me.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, and give a small nod at his question.

"Yes, Hobie, I am still 'Narky'." I murmur, having grown accustomed to Hobies slang, but being asked if I'm grumpy does little to improve my mood.

Hobie gives a slight nod, before the air turns to silence.

That is until Hobie, as usual, breaks it.

"What's your favorite color again?" Hobie asks, looking forward as he keeps walking but there's an undeniable hint of interest in his tone, as if searching for confirmation.

My eyebrows furrow for a moment at the sudden question, at first, Hobie had asked me if I had any certain allergies a few days ago, which I suppose could be related to my boot but not necessarily but now...this was off topic entirely, yet purely conversational.

I give a small shrug of my shoulders, "I dunno, I like purples and blues." I say, eyeing Hobie out of the corner of my eye, a bit confused to where this conversation is going.

Hobie, surprisingly perks up at that answer, his normally lidded eyes sparkling and I can't help my heart flutter at the sight, especially when his lips quirk up into an slightly proud smile.

"knew it..." Hobie murmurs underneath his breath, digging into his vest pocket as he steps in front of me, walking backwards and facing me, evading walking spider people with ease.

It takes a brief moment of Hobie rummaging into his pocket of his vest, before dangling a shiny, beaded and clearly homemade, Hobie-flared bracelet.

My eyes widen as I reach my hand out to accept it gently taking it into my hand, examining the beads and shiny silver thread that holds it all together. Its...all of the things i'd told Hobie about, or things he had likely picked up along the way of knowing me.

Theres purple and blue shades of beads, interlocked with small silver beads in between each in a intertwined pattern, and the smile just widens on my lips at the thoughtful gesture.

"Took a bit to find all the rights gems n' such." Hobie says. "D'ya like it?" He asks, placing his hands back into his vest pockets as he watches my reaction with a curious face.

I instantly nod, placing the bracelet on my wrist and to my surprise it fits perfectly, but I only smile wider. "Hobie, this is so sweet of you." I praise, looking back up at him.

One of Hobies hand moves out of his vest pocket to wave, 'a get out of here' gesture but the pleased smile on his lips does little to hide how he truly feels about the praise.

Hobie moves back swiftly to my side instead of walking backwards in front of me, nudging my shoulder softly with his elbow.

"Still narky?" He teases, and I can't help but laugh a bit at that, shaking my head as I look down at the bracelet, the beads making a soft clack with each step I take.

"Nah, not anymore." I reply.

The real barbie is Y/n.

Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.