Hobie With An Awkward Girl

Hobie with an awkward girl…

I just thought it’d be fun cause he’s like chilled out and all that and then the awkward girlie is introducing herself with a handshake

no because he'd be so chilled while she's shitting herself

hobie brown x fem!reader

warning: alcohol consumption

wc: ±680

A/N: none

gif not mine, all credit to original creator.

You weren't one to go to parties too often, but your friend had convinced you to join her tonight. You can't say no to free booze she had said and you reluctantly decided to give in and tag along.

But you didn't know where your friend was now. She had ditched you a little while ago to get herself a drink, but you had a hunch that she got a bit sidetracked. It also didn't help that you didn't know anyone at the party anyway, so had resorted to standing in the corner, silently watching as everyone enjoyed themselves.

You had gotten bored and decided to make your way to the kitchen, also in need of a drink. Who knows, you might find your friend passed out in the punch bowl. You had a habit of looking at your feet instead of looking infront of you when walking, and this had led you to bump into a solid chest. Thank goodness your cup was already empty; you probably would have died of embarrassment if you spilled anything on them too.

You were about to apologize profusely for your clumsiness, when you noticed the figure in front of you. The first thing you noticed, was how freakishly tall he was. You weren't necessarily short, but this guy towered over you, and you had to crane your neck just to meet his eyes.

You also noticed the abundance of piercings and crazy jewelry that adorned him, along with his amazing hair.

"You alright?" he asked, and you realized that you had just been staring at him, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. "Yeah I'm fine I'm just— I'm sorry for bumping into you," you said and he gave you a small smile. "No problem," he said and you breathed a sigh of relief at his calm reaction. You really weren't looking forward to getting shit.

"Haven't seen you around here," he said as his eyes quietly scanned your figure. "Oh uhm—" you wiped your hand on your pants and outstretched it, offering him a handshake as you introduced yourself. His brows furrowed at your formality, but he humored you, taking his hand from his jacket's pocket and placing it in yours. He couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous gesture.

"Can't tell you the last time I shook someone's hand," he smiled as he retracted his hand, once again placing it into his pocket. That was a stupid thing to do. He probably thinks I'm so weird now, you thought to yourself, mentally giving yourself a face palm.

"I'm sorry," was all you could think of saying. "It's all good. I'll see you around yeah?" he said before maneuvering his way around you. You turned around to see where he was off to, and it was when you noticed he had also turned around, facing you again. You felt like a creep who got caught, and had to stop yourself from turning around again and walking away.

"I like your shirt, by the way," he added and you looked down at said item as if you hadn't been wearing it all night. "Thanks, printed it myself," you said, still looking down at the design on the front of your shirt. "Yeah? That's wicked," he said and you saw how his eyes lit up at your admission.

"That's a compliment I'll gladly accept coming from you," you said, and you saw him furrowing his brows. "Because you're so cool," you elaborated, "with the cool hair and jewelry and everything. Like you just ooze so much confidence, it's crazy actually." You hadn't even realized you were rambling. "Well, I'm glad you think I'm cool," he said with a smirk, "you're not to bad yourself." and before you had time to reply he had dissappeared between the sea of people.

You felt someone touching your shoulder and turned around to find your friend. She was already pleasantly buzzed. "Meet anyone interesting?" she asked handing you a drink, and you then realized you didn't even know the guy's name. You nodded, taking a sip of your drink. "Yeah, actually."

★ edit: i wrote second part to this if you wanna check that out.

thank you for reading 𖹭

❝𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞❞

hobart “hobie” brown x fem!reader

masterlist

summary: hobie’s sent to pick you up, but fights the power by sleeping with you instead.

MINORS DNI 18+

characters: hobie brown, jessica drew (mentioned)

word count: 2.9k

notes: takes place before across the spider-verse; hobie’s voice is hard to write for i tried my best; hobie is at least 18 they didnt specify in the movie but if hes not then hes aged up

warnings: established relationship (fwbs most likely but idk), reader is a spider of her own universe, hobie has a nickname for you “bug”, no use of y/n, not rly edited mb, make out, light vag fingering, hand/height size difference (tried to make reader as ambiguous as possible), usage of the word “cunt”, praise, dirty talk, objectification (mention of being used), some degradation, sex a bit on the rougher side not too bad, (“quickie” kind of) protected and explicit sex

“Hobie?”

Spider-Punk lulls his head in the direction of the sound of his name. He hums in lazy affirmation as he fiddles with scraps in his hands. 

Jessica sighs, resting her fists on her hips when she shifts her weight. “Will you pick up your partner? She’s late, and she’s not answering her COMMs. See what’s going on.” 

“Prolly kidnapped; something vile.” Hobie responds, his device zaps him as if to punish him for his negative manifestation and he waves his hand to rid the sting. 

“Very funny.” she remarks, but it’s devoid of humor, crossing her arms and turning back to her blueprints. “See to it.”

He pushes off his chair with a huff. “Not her keeper, but just ‘cause you asked nicely.”

“Bug?” he calls through your apartment, having invited himself in with the spare key you keep under the mat. “Bug, it’s Hobes, I’m lettin’ myself in.” he warns loudly enough, shutting the door behind him. There’s no possibility you’re not home, he’s memorized your schedule by now. As he creeps closer to your bedroom, he hears the soft snoring emanating from behind the beads hanging in your doorway. A portière, decorated with a painted white, crescent moon. He’s surprised he didn’t wake you with all the noise he made, but he splits the strings down the middle, ducking in. From the looks of it, you didn’t waste time jumping into bed. Wearing a tank top and panties, cuddling the pillow underneath your cheek, the edge of the covers covering only the tips of your legs. Gingerly, Hobie crawls onto your mattress to lay next to you. His eyes take in your peaceful form, his large hand coming up to pet the hair back from your forehead, stroking down your back rising and falling with your breath. He had half a mind to swat your ass but figured he could get to that later. 

You murmur, and he scoffs. Did you sense him? Your parted lips appear so appealing, a passing fascination goads him to kiss you awake. His lips press against yours so gently. At first you have no response, but as he lingers, you stir. A content and groggy sound, and you tense your lips, chasing him. 

He obliges you, granting you a peck before propping himself up on his elbow. “Up late?” he asks, pinching the thin material of your tanktop between his fingers. 

“Bridge collapse on 51st, had to clean up. Didn’t make it back til…” you mumble, and peek your eye open, the brightness of the sunlight through your room temporarily blinding you. Your vision focuses on Hobie, and an instinctive smile stretches onto your mouth. “seven? Seven AM, I think.”

Your friend feigns a pout, cooing sympathetically, “Poor girl,” His hand ends its trail at the base of your spine, brushing his fingertips on your bare skin, dipping it underneath your ridden up top. Soothingly, he explores you, and your eyes fall closed, sighing in relaxation. “HQ was wonderin’ where you’re at. Sent me off to fetch you.” 

A pause, and your eyes fly open, picking yourself up to reach for your alarm clock twisting it to face you. “Hobie! Why didn’t you tell me?” you yelp. He’d been so sweet on you, you wanted it to last, but it’d lured you into a false sense of security. You stumble standing onto your soft mattress, kicking off the tangled sheets around your ankles to hop off. 

“Cool off, bug,” Hobie nestles further into your bed, folding his arms behind his head as he watches you. Lavender colored panties, not even big enough to cover your supple ass. He moistens his lips, biting down onto his piercing while you reach above you to grab a cardboard box from the top shelf of your closet. His thoughts now occupied by how he could get payback for earlier. “Why don’t we stall a bit?” he suggests, but the intention behind his words goes over your head.

“I can’t, I’m already in trouble with the bureau—“ you start, straining on the tips of your toes to balance the box on the pads of your fingers. You manage to pull it from its place, but you lose stability. Hobie appears behind you, beating you to catching it. 

You gulp, and slowly he sets the container in your hands. Directly behind you, he leans his head over your shoulder. 

“When’s a little trouble scared you off, heh?” His arms rest against another shelf, caging you in. 

His breath tickles your neck and you shy away because fiery heat sears your insides as it travels straight to your core. “C’mon, Hobes, don’t be like that. I’m trying to stay off the radar. Things are tense enough as is.” You duck under his elbow, casting aside the cardboard once you’d plucked your uniform from its spot. 

“Sure, sure,” Hobie nods, but his fake agreement doesn’t fool you. He shoves his hands into his vest pockets as he follows you out. “Listen to this though…” Attentively, you side-eye him, and he knows he’s got you interested. “Let’s ditch and catch up here.”

You narrow your eyes, a playful curl to your lips as you drop your arm holding your suit, and you rest your other fist on your hip. “Do you mean catch up? Or-“ Raising your hands, you form air-quotes. “‘catch up’?” 

Hobie scans your body, a generous look up and down, and he lulls back until his shoulder hits the framing, relaxing there. Jutting his chin, he offers a vague and cheeky response. “You decide.” 

You chew on the inside of your cheek, biting back a smile that threatens to display itself and exacerbate Hobie’s arrogant attitude. Having a cocky attitude is an attribute of his you can’t decide if you like. Your suit falls to the ground and you pick up the pace when you approach him. He anticipates your next move, stooping and clutching you when you leap into his arms. You secure your legs around his waist, cupping his cheeks to guide his lips to yours. 

It’s feverish, stolen breaths and parted lips, tilting your heads to deepen it further. The rush of rebellion always ignites a fire in you that Hobie is happy to fan. Neither of you thought of yourselves as exceptional kissers when you worked this fast, luckily you found each other, and your kissing styles fit together like puzzle pieces. Tightening your legs, you heighten yourself, as if to gain an edge by being taller than him. 

Hobie answers this by lumbering over to your bed, collapsing on top of you which you pay no mind to. As if you’re a couple of horny teenagers, he slides his hands underneath your ass, so he can grind into your crotch. Over his jeans, you can’t tell if he’s hard, but the delectable pressure makes you exhale through your nose. His fingers dig into your supple flesh, tasting all he can while his tongue is inside your mouth, chasing yours to explore. 

You had an urge to retract, to moan out his name and ask him to do something foul to you, but he beats you to this as well. Breaking the kiss, he impatiently relays to you, “Been fuckin’ horny for you, d’you know that?” 

The fabric over his zipper catches on your spread folds through your panties and your breath hitches in your throat. “I had a feeling.”

He moves quick, but you don’t mind it. You actually prefer it. The idea he came here knowing he was going to get some is enough to make you dampen. 

“Want me to do som’in about it?” 

“If you’re snappy about it, yes.” You adjust underneath him, searching for that friction, so he obliges you by pinning you with his hips to let you hump him properly. 

His tone conveys his amusement, “In a rush?” 

“Well, you did say I was wanted back at HQ. What are they gonna think if we take too long—? And we show up together?” While you talk, he rolls his abdomen, sweeping his hardening length over your clothed sex, and you shiver. 

He’s swift to derail your verbal thought process, familiar with your ability to overthink things. Your relationship with him is private, but that hasn’t shaken your feelings of inadequacy when you’re dwelling in someplace as daunting as the “spider-society.” Jumping dimensions without sanction or reason is frowned upon— if not an offense— and you and Hobie have a nasty habit of it. “We’re Spider-Men. World ain’t gonna save itself. We’ll tell ‘em we got caught up in som’in.” The word “spider-men” is simply a figure of speech. Contradicting its inherent gender by shifting his weight aside in order to find your sensitive nub, circling it with the pads of his digits. 

His skill with his fingers causes you to instinctively buck your hips. As confident as he was in his answer, you aren’t so sure that’d be acceptable to your superiors. Yet here you are, remaining underneath him. “Yeah, you did. I was ready to go before you pulled me in.” You want this just as much as he does. 

“Don’t act so innocent, you like this.” he calls you out and you try to change the subject of agreeing with him by fitting your hands between you, unbuckling his belt. 

“Hobie.” you croon sweetly, ceding your growing interest in what’s residing in his pants. 

He hooks a digit in your underwear, snapping the elastic against your skin as if to chastise your little show. “I wanted to go down on you first.”

“Next time. Just get inside me.” You undo his button next, and he’s pliant in your hands. Allowing you to shove his pants and boxers down until his dark treasure trail and a glimpse of his pubes are visible. 

“Tell you what,” To assuage you and your impatience, he daintily pinches the corners of your panties, pulling them down your thighs. “let me sleep over tonight.” 

You scoff at his dramatism and the way he stalls just to get a ride out of you. A level of hysterics sets in your tone as you react to him, “Yes! Yes, whatever you want, Hobie, I’d love that.” You shuffle away, reaching for the drawer of your nightstand to collect a condom. Your maneuver spreads your legs, and Hobie pervs on how you glisten. 

“Can't get over how lovely you are,” he muses, two of his curious fingers swiping from your clit down the surface of your sex, gathering the moisture there. Your head tips back, his touch— as fleeting as it was— is so heavenly. You try not to attribute that gift to his guitar-playing… at least, not out loud. “You know, I daydream about this cunt?” 

You sigh out his name, relaxing fully onto the bed while he lubes up his fingers with your essence, rounding your entrance to coax it to loosen. 

“You and your pretty sounds, stuck in my head. D’you know what you do to me, dove?” he emphasizes his sweet nothings with shallow dips into you. 

“Hobie, I’m so glad you’re here,” you confess. He’s not the only one that daydreams about the other. You’ve never shared your bed with anyone that makes you feel like Hobie does. A bit of kissing, a couple of certain touches, and you’re hounding him for his dick. “Do you want to fuck me, baby? Right now? I can’t wait any longer…” Who knows when you’ll have another opportunity like this?

Hobie— arrested in mid-motion to lean into your quivering sex, open and ripe for his taking, for his tasting— must steel himself. You want him now, and giving you head will have to wait ‘til tonight. “I dunno, bug, might be a little tight.” he warns, and thumbs your sensitive bud. You squeak and writhe, an ache blooming within you because of the absence of being filled. 

“I can take it, Hobes- God, please?” you beg, blindly reaching for his pelvis. 

Humored, he toys with you still. “Am I your god?” he teases. 

You huff and pick yourself up, snatching his wrist to shove the condom into his palm. He takes the direction— finally— and rips the wrapper with his teeth. “You are such a jerk.” 

“Pity you need this jerk to get yourself off, eh?” The words bring a grin to your face, and he yanks his pants down fully, rolling the latex onto himself. He catches your eye, witnessing the hunger in your dilated pupils, the anticipation in the way you chew your lower lip. You sit up, enveloping his gloved cock with your hand to lead him over. Obediently, he follows you, amazed at how a motion like that sent a painful throb straight to his dick. Whenever you get exasperated enough to take what you want from him, Hobie can’t help but tease you mercilessly in order to achieve that result. 

Balancing on his knees and his hand next to your cheek, he lets you direct him. His swollen head inclining into you, meeting a brief resistance. 

You reassure him, “It’s okay, I’m okay. Keep going,” You replace your hands, resting them on his nimble hip bones. Sinking in, that delicious stretch draws a moan out. 

“Fuck, yes. Music to my fucking ears.” Hobie captures your mouth in a kiss, swallowing those sounds, taking them for his own as he inches into you. Listening to them strain against the base of your throat as his cursory thrusts deepen. Unable to speak, you can’t admit to him how full you feel as soon as he bottoms out. His cock perfectly sheathed inside you, basking in the moment until you wiggle your hips, signaling for him to pick the pace up. He’s messed with you long enough, and he can’t pretend any longer how thin his self-control is wearing. Pulling all the way out, he slams back into you, the force of it rippling your body in a most pleasurable way. As if electrical currents of delight spark up your spine with each piston. 

Once he adopts a steady rhythm, he breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting the two of you after you practically fucked each other’s tongues. “I fucking missed you,” you breathe, gazing up at him with stars in your eyes as he adjusts your legs to fold over. Creating a new angle, your eyebrows twist as the tip of his cock hits a new spot. The web of his thumbs tuck in the backs of your knees, squishing your tits together in between your thighs. Bouncing with each of his thrusts. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. Could watch you do this all day. Takin’ my cock this good.” Your pussy slurps him up, emitting the most delectable and filthy noises. “So fucking wet,” 

“All for you, Hobie, all for you.”

There’s a certain part of himself that’s revealed whenever he’s around you. How susceptible he is to praise in these certain circumstances. Your loving words make him work harder, fucking you into the mattress, keeping you in that mating press. Unintelligible noises spill from your mouth, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let him fuck you to his heart’s desire. The continual attention to that spongy spot inside of you makes that coil inside your belly tighten. The angle of the position, and how expertly he rolls his hips, causes tremors in your legs to surface. 

Usually, Hobie’s keen on staying verbal. Maintaining conversation with anything he can think of, but this time he’s different. Allowing himself to reduce to his basest desires. The kind that control getting the hell off, and using your body to do it. By God, are you fucking happy to do it. Unlike a vessel of pure pleasure, you’re beyond satisfied to let him abuse your hole like this until he’s milked clean because it edges you closer to your own release. 

It nears as Hobie rails you faithfully, and you claw at his biceps. Your walls involuntarily clench. 

“That’s it, baby, that’s it!” he commends, and you feel the ever-present heat on your cheeks warm further. “You gonna cum for me? All over my cock, yeah?” One of his favorite sensations in the world. How you flood around him until it seeps out of you. 

Sentences can’t form in your head, you can only nod furiously to alert him. 

“Go on, touch yourself for me.” You obey his suggestion, and when you lift your trembling hand, he helps you along. Enveloping yours in his hand, he guides it to his mouth, sucking on two of your digits, tonguing them to wet them. Once lubricated, he sticks them in between the two of you, rubbing your clit with them. You whimper. Every cell in your body screaming at you to release, and a couple circles to your nub and you unravel. 

Those tremors travel, igniting every nerve ending as he slows his roll to ride it out with you. Your orgasm is powerful, tensing up your body, including closing up your holes around Hobie who immediately stutters his hips because of it. How you tighten around him becomes the perfect opportunity. You’re so busy letting your euphoria wash over you, Hobie uses it to his advantage, cumming with you. 

The latex protects you, but you can still feel the temperature change inside of you. How things get more slippery, and your own liquid oozing out of you as he pulls out. Sweaty, and out of breath, he collapses next to you to ease the condom off of his softening length. 

A comfortable silence is broken by his cheeky comment, “Tonight, do you fancy another go?” 

That baby one shot with Hobie and as sooo cute!! We gotta have a part two when miles Gwen and pav especially PAV seeing the cute baby

( I find it funny Miguel didn’t want to hold the baby there trauma got to him 💀💀)

help i just know he cried as soon as he walked through the portal

dad!Hobie Brown x Reader Pt 2 🎸

The both of you were laying on Hobie’s bed, with his head on your stomach, and the baby laying above his body. Your daughter grabbed onto your finger, and held tight.

Hobie was looking at you, like he always was. Seeing you interact with your kid— his kid. He feels at home, he feels like he’s truly found someone he wants to spend his life with! He’s never felt that way before.

Suddenly, a thud was heard in the living room, and Hobie immediately groaned. Your daughter awoke with a start and began to cry.

“Oh— oh I’m sorry!” Gwen’s voice could be heard quietly from where the portal had opened, and Pav’s voice was heard not soon after.

“Where is he?!” His voice was also quiet, trying NOT to receive a killer punch from Hobie.

“He’s in here!” Your voice came from the bedroom, so they followed it.

Pav tried to hold in his squeal— he could not.

“It’s true?? You have a babyyyy— it’s so cute! Is it a boy or a girl? How old is it? Is this it’s mom? I can see it already you look very alike, you’re stunning by the way, how long have the two of you been together—?” His questions were never ending, and soon enough other conversation grew over it.

“Wow, she’s adorable!” Gwen commented, and Miles nodded next to her. He looked at her with big eyes, and then gave some pretty intense side eye to Hobie.

“So I took Sex Ed, right?” The boy said and Hobie laughed.

“Stork.” Hobie gave Miles a pointed look, and Miles didn’t bring it up again.

—

Against Hobie’s better judgement, all 3 of them eventually held the baby, though he was very cautious.

Your daughter returned safe in your arms, and after you served your guests tea, they walked out, having other things to tend to.

“Sweet group!” You smile at Hobie.

“Think they’re jus surprised I got a tyke o’ my own.”

You laugh quietly and lean in to kiss him, which he gratefully responds.

“I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather have a child with.” You say, and he knows all will be okay.

i’m just like hamilton i’m writing like crazy

as always, requests and criticism please 🙏🙏

and yeah sorry it’s a bit short :)

okay but imagine pavitr trying to play wingman for hobie to get with the reader and how funny/cute it would be

longer requests will be out this week, thank u all for the amazing support!! love you guys sm

: ̗̀➛ WINGMAN. hobie brown x reader headcanons

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

oh, he would be so annoying. in the best way.

you’d joined the spider society not long after the others, immediately clicking within the dynamic and it wasn’t uncommon for you all to just hang out in each others dimensions after a mission.

at first, hobie thought you’d simply peaked his interest because of your unspoken nature. constantly standing up for yourself and other spider people, putting people in their place if need be, just your general backbone intrigued him. you felt different to the others. that’s all he thought.

that was, until one afternoon, you were all packed into your apartment, music playing from the stereos and pavitr talking everybody’s ear off about god knows what. hobie had been silent for a while, no reason in particular, he’d been fiddling with the badges on his leather vest, in his own little world. well, until he felt a hand on his knee.

“hobie,” your voice was low, subtle, hanging just below the decibels of the melodies booming through the room, “are you alright? you’ve been quite quiet.”

“oh, uh,” he was taken aback, possibly by your hand that still lingered on his jeans, or how close he suddenly realised you were, seeing the soft details of your face and pigment in your cheeks for the first time, “yeah, no, i’m fine.” he cleared his throat.

smiling back at him, you took your hand away, moving back to get involved in the conversation again, not thinking much of it. regretfully, hobie looked up and saw pavitr staring at him, clearly having watched the ordeal and the excited smirk on his face told him that he’d definitely seen hobie flustered. he sighed.

after pavitr worked out that hobie had a thing for you, it was over for him.

he couldn’t even LOOK in your direction, without the shorter man hopping into his personal space, nudging him hard in the ribs, singing something about kissing in a tree.

constant comments about you to hobie

“y/n, i love your shirt! hobie, doesn’t it look so cool?”

“y/n! hobie told me to tell you he loves your shoes.”

“doesn’t y/n look sooo nice today! huh? hobie? what do you think?”

he was in hell, actually.

there was only so many "yeah, nice" he could say to you before he started to sound like a prick

on missions, he was insufferable

constantly making you guys work together somehow

“miguel, i think me and gwen work best as a team, don’t you think? y/n and hobie should do this one together”

swinging through the streets of whichever earth you were sent to, hearing distant yells of pavitr calling after you both “aren’t they cute together?!”

“good morning, hobie,” you grinned, sleep still evident in your voice as you wandered into the headquarters, beckoning to miguel’s very early morning mission call.

god, he was so thankful to have you alone for once. relief settled itself on his shoulders at the absence of his best friends’ watchful eye, happy to interact with you comfortably.

“mornin’,” he spoke, stretching his legs mindlessly out across the length of the desk, leaning back onto his arms, “how’d you sleep?”

“oh my god, i had the weirdest dream—” you begun, hopping up onto the adjoining surface, eyes lit up with passion as you ranted about the dream you had just resurfaced from.

he watched you the whole time, lips curling into a smile at the way you threw your hands around in the air as you spoke, reeling into every detail about your nonsensical experience. nodding every so often, he was almost enthralled by you – taking this peaceful moment as an advantage to see you properly. you were tired, sleep still evident in your eyes, hair a little chaotic in places, but the soft glow that it gave you made his heart skip.

he’d totally lost himself in speaking to you, listening to the excitement lacing your voice, that he didn’t realise other people had arrived.

well, until he felt a sharp elbow to the ribs.

“you guys are so cute together!” pavitr’s sing-song voice pierced hobie’s ears, shocked at the newcomers, “i saw the way you looked at them, loverboy.”

the nickname stuck

he’d been addressed more by “loverboy” than his own name, and his insides churned every single time

even gwen started calling him it, to which hobie would send a threatening glare

when you eventually did end up seeing each other, whether that be dating or other stuff, you both swore to keep it a secret

hobie refused to give pavitr the satisfaction of knowing he was right

so you would sneak around together, kissing in places you shouldn’t, stealing knowing glances in meetings, secret touches when no one was looking

he loved the risk of it all

but it was one afternoon, you’d both slipped away into an empty lab at the spider society headquarters, giggling to each other like kids as he dragged you into the vacant room

his hands were all over you, lips brushing whatever skin he could see, your arms slung around his neck as you kissed him

“did you lock the door?” you asked

“i thought you did.”

“OH. MY. GOD.” a third voice yelled.

you yelped, jumping away from hobie as a last ditch effort to maybe save some face

it was too late, pavitr stood there, mouth agape

hobie sighed, hanging his head

“GWEN! THEY DID IT!”

pavitr stepped back into the hallway and ran down towards where you’d both left them, his voice carrying through the metal walls

“LOVERBOY DID IT!”

you stood there, unsure whether if you just remained still, you could avoid whatever consequences you both faced

that was, until you felt hobie’s arm slide around your waist, pulling you back into him, an unintelligible look on his face

“we can’t keep it a secret anymore, i guess.” you spoke first, he let out a laugh

“i don’t think that’s such a bad thing,” he kissed you, softly.

a/n: hope this was okay!! currently got a bunch of requests in the works, so keep an eye out for more!!! also anymore headcanon ideas would be so fun!! thank u

when you're forced to leave your home (because of your parents):

i'm writing this because the sad, rebellious, angry teen in me wished gwen didn't forgive his dad so easily (are my daddy issues showing? idk are they?)

i'm also writing this for all of us who had to grow up too fast, and whose parents never accepted them as they are, for those who had to leave their own "home" because of that; i'm proud of you, you're great, keep living your life the way you want to <3

miles would try to make you look on the bright side of the situation. your parents don't accept you for the way you are but he does, and he would make sure to remind you that every day. family is so important to him and making you feel like you belong somewhere would become his number one priority.

gwen is probably the most likely to understand what you're feeling, bonus point if the conflict concerns your dad. “fuck them. they weren't good for you in any way.” she would say. you're more than welcome to stay at her place for as long as you want.

pavitr is like miles, family is sacred to him and he will need some time to understand how can your own parents force you to leave your home. you're such a good person to him and he would be really supportive of you.

hobie would try to hide his joy at the news. he's a clever guy and has long noticed how your parents were messing with your mental health. nevertheless, he understands that this is a difficult time for you and suggests you stay at his place. “remember that I appreciate you okay? and if those fuckers are too stupid to realize how amazing you are then it's their problem.”

miguel would try to act like the adult he is and discuss with your parents, needless to say, he would return home angry. “they don't deserve you kiddo, one day they'll realize all the mistakes they made. you can stay here if you want, I'll take care of you.” he would say, as his dad mode gets fully activated. (scream in daddy issues)

this is a sort of continuation of this request for @xoxobabe. wc: ±1310

That night you went home unsated, thoughts of your interaction with the cool stranger plaguing your mind. You were a bit upset you didn't even get his name, so you had no way of finding him.

You just couldn't get over how cool he was, effortlessly so too. He walked around with unmissable confidence and suave, like he knew everyone was in awe of him. You'd give everything to have another conversation with him, preferably one where you didn't make a complete fool of yourself.

A few days later it seemed as though your prayers had been answered when your friend had payed you a visit. "I went to visit my friend, it was a small gathering, just a few people, and some guy there asked for you," she said as the two of you sat on your small couch.

Your breath hitched a bit at the possibility that it could be him, and your brows rose in intrigue. "Who was it?" you asked and she shrugged. "He didn't give me a name. Just asked where you were and asked me to give you this," she fished in her pants pockets until she pulled out a small paper and handed it to you. On it was a number scribbled in almost unreadable handwriting.

"What did he look like?" you asked, inspecting the small paper. "Really tall, lots of piercings and crazy clothes, had wicks?" she said and you tried not to look too elated. It was him, and he had asked for you. Maybe you hadn't made a complete fool of yourself.

That night you had planned to called him. But you didn't.

Three weeks; you had kept the little piece of paper by your nightstand for three weeks and not once did you call him. You'd come close, already pressing the numbers in but every time you tried to press "call", you'd drop everything, once again placing the paper on your nightstand.

You didn't know why were so hesitant. A small part of your brain kept telling you that you'd royally fuck up once you started talking again. You didn't even know what you'd talk about too. What if once you called him you'd freeze up like an idiot, or say something so stupid and weird that he'd have no choice but you hang up.

It bothered you as well. He must've thought you didn't want to talk to him, but you did. You so badly did, but you just didn't know where to start. Ironic seeing that you had all the facilities, just not the willpower to do anything with them.

♪.˳⁺⁎˚

Your friend had asked you to join her to go and see some band perform, and you had gladly agreed. Anything to take your mind of the little paper burning a hole in both your nightstand and your mind. You had dressed in your best, spent hours on your hair and makeup, the whole shebang. You needed a night out more than anything.

The venue was fairly small but quite full, but you and your friend fortunately found place quite close to the actual stage. She kept your place while you went to the little bar to get the two of you drinks. By the time you carefully made your way back to her, squeezing through the crowd trying not to spill anything, you heard the static of the mic and the band getting introduced. You tried to get a look while you moved but it was so packed all around you.

When you made it to your friend and finally got a chance to see the performers—just as they began—you couldn't believe your eyes.

Right there in front of you on stage, he stood, playing guitar like he was getting payed to do it (which he probably was). It was definitely a sight for sore eyes, and you felt like burying your head into the ground like an ostrich. If he saw you, you'd probably combust on the spot just from the embarrassment alone. How your friend forget to add this detail when telling you about tonight, you didn't know.

The band itself was amazing too. You enjoyed the music, it might not have have been what you'd listen to normally but still good music. Once they finished their performance the crowd erupted in applause and cheer. As everyone cheered you moved back into the crowd, telling your friend you needed another drink. Lord knows you truly did.

You made your way back to the small bar, politely ordering and watching intently as the bartender stared working on your drink. The sudden call of your name prompted you to turn around and once you did you wished you hadn't. It was him, of course it was.

"How've you been stranger?" he asked and you wanted to crawl in on yourself. Run away if you could. "I've been good," you smiled awkwardly as he joined you on the adjacent bar stool. "How about you?" you added.

He pursed his lips before replying. "Not too well, considering you never called," he said, "didn't your friend give you my number?" Maybe it wasn't too late to start running.

"No she did," you said quietly, "and I was planning on calling. It's just that I didn't really know how to start the conversation over the phone, if that makes sense." He only nodded, moving his body so that his body was now entirely facing you.

"Well, I'm here now, so how would you begin the conversation face-to-face?" he asked and you smiled. "I'd start by asking what the hell your name was," you said and he laughed. He extended his hand, mimicking your initial introduction. "Hobie," was all he said, although it sounded a lot more like 'Obie through his thick accent. You placed your hand in his and shook it gladly. "It's nice to meet you," you smiled.

"Your band, you guys did great, by the way," you said, thanking the bartender once he handed you your drink. "Yeah? You liked it?" he asked and you nodded excitedly. "Loved it," you said and he smiled. The sight nearly had you in shambles. "I'll have to attend every performance from now on. Just my duty as your new number one fan," you added, taking a gulp sip from your drink, your nerves not yet gone.

"Well then I can guarantee I'll be playing ten times better with you front row," he said with a smirk and you had to stop yourself from choking on your drink. "Don't inflate my ego," you said, yet you hated how small your voice sounded. "'M not," he tried, "jus' stating the facts." You found yourself giggling like a school girl.

The conversation continued for what felt like hours, the two of you sitting by the small bar, contently caught up in your own little bubble. It wasn't until one of his bandmates had called for him, telling him that they needed to pack up and get going, that he had to say goodbye.

"I hate to cut this night short love, but I have to get going," he said, standing up. You tried not to show how the nickname made your stomach flip. "It's alright, it's getting late anyway," you said, also standing up, suddenly remembering about your friend that you had deserted. "You'll call me this time, yeah?" he asked and you nodded with a small laugh.

"Good. I'll see you around, love. Take care, yeah?" and then he dissappeared into the crowd once again. You drank the last if the drink and tried to find your friend.

When you did, you apologized at your disappearance. "It's alright," she said, "I saw you were too busy with mister rockstar." You rolled your eyes at her words and the two of you made your way home. That night you planned to call him, and luckily you did.