Omg I Love This One - Tumblr Posts
Never Let 'Em Know Your Next Move
Panda's Notes: Hobie is the most Switch Spider there is. I don't take notes; I don't debate; I have decided. >w< Feel free to send all thanks/blame to @rosileeduckie for the ending, which was inspired by the very lovely art they made. >w< Special thanx also to @ssnicker-doodless for helping with beta reading.
[Ao3] || [Commissions] || [Ko-fi]
Gwen peered over the back of the long couch, resting her chin on her arms as she pouted a bit. Hobie was snoring faintly, one arm flopped across his face as he slept. It was just after ten o’clock, and, frankly, Gwen was getting a little impatient.
She slipped quietly around the couch, and, being as careful as possible, she lifted his head and climbed onto the couch, setting his head down on her crossed legs. He huffed softly, shifting slightly in his sleep and yawning.
Gwen smiled slightly, poking gently at his nose a few times to watch his face scrunch up before leaning over to wiggle her fingers against his ribcage.
Hobie huffed again and squirmed, a smile sneaking across his face as steady chuckles rolled out of him. Gwen snickered to herself, letting her hands crawl over his stomach and out to his sides. He started to laugh softly, rough bass-sounding giggles shaking his body as he started to move. His hands stretched out into the air before he pressed his palms against the arm of the couch on either side of Gwen’s body. He yawned softly before one of his eyes opened groggily.
“Oi, Gwenny…” He grumbled, glancing curiously at her hands for a moment.
“Geez, I thought you’d never wake up.” She chuckled, starting to tickle him a bit more earnestly. She was shocked when he didn’t yell or push himself away from her. Instead, he let himself laugh, his voice tangled up in those giggles as her nails scribbled against his midriff.
“You’re not moving much, are you, tough guy?” She teased, sneakily tugging his shirt up a little. “You got a giggle bug in there or something?”
“You’re not funny—Gwen!” He barked out a louder laugh when she scribbled around his navel, one of his legs kicking at the other end of the couch.
“Yeah, that's my name; you need something?” She taunted, poking quickly up his torso and resting her hands on his elbows. She walked her fingers along his sleeves toward his armpits, grinning brighter at the way he shivered while keeping his hands in place. “Yeah…I’m starting to think that gigglebug is just you~”
Hobie snickered, smirking as he narrowed his eyes up at her. “Call me that again; see what ha—Ack!” He cried out as her fingers dug and scribbled into his armpits, his fingers curling slightly against the couch as he burst into cackles.
“Call you what, Hobie~? A cute, ticklish, wittle Giggleb—Ah! Wait, wait, wait!”
Like a trap snapping shut, Hobie’s hands suddenly attached themselves to Gwen’s sides, his thumbs pressing around her flanks while his long fingers wiggled over her sides toward her back. “What’s the matter, Gwenny? Always trying to start stuff you can’t finish with me, aren’t ya?” The smirk on his face shifted to a more genuine grin as he shoved his hands up into her armpits, chuckling as she squealed and tried to lean away from him. He let her go as she leaned back, dropping his hands to sneak scribbles at the soles of her feet and snickering as she nearly kicked him.
“That’s for stealing my Chucks, by the way.” He chuckled. “If you ain’t wearin’ ‘em, you ain’t safe.”
Gwen rolled her eyes and giggled, starting to pull her legs back when Hobie’s hands returned to their position on the arm of the couch.
“Ah, no, sorry, love; you’re not leaving yet.” He shrugged, smirking up at her.
“Aw, what?” She asked with a fake pout, returning her own hands to gently tickling along his arms. “Your gigglebug still hungry or something?”
Hobie somehow seemed to stifle an emotional response to that one, despite the giggles shaking him. “Oi, tell me: What’d I tell you about waking me up in the morning when I let you crash here?”
Gwen’s hands went still. Hobie kept laughing. She tried to scramble away from him, but he grabbed onto the jacket she was wearing as he sat up, dragging her into his lap and digging his hands back into her waist.
“The rule is NOT TO WAKE ME UP!” He barked over her laughter, grinning a bit deviously as he watched her flail.
-------------
“Hey, little man.” Hobie called, lightly tugging Miles’ headphones.
He had perched himself upside down on the ceiling, head buried in the sketchbook in his hand. He tipped his head, acknowledging him with a glance.
Hobie hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “You wanna grab some couch time with me real quick, mate?”
Miles hesitated a bit, but he closed the pencil into his sketchbook before placing his hand on the ceiling to swing himself down. Within a minute he was lying across Hobie’s lap, his headphones wrapped around his neck and Hobie tapping casually on his stomach.
Miles grinned warily. “Am I in trouble?”
“Only if you want to be.” Hobie teased, shrugging as he dragged Miles’ shirt up with one finger while his other hand pulled Miles’ hood over his face. “Count to three for me?”
“Shouldn’t you be the one to—Naah! I wasn’t ready!” His voice came out in a loud cackle as Hobie blew a raspberry against his stomach, and he grabbed at the arm holding his hood down.
“I heard ‘one, two’, mate; simple as.” Hobie said, the smirk clear in his voice while one of his fingers traced circles around Miles’ bellybutton.
“You know what I said.” He giggled helplessly. “I didn’t even say three—Hobie!” Another raspberry; another giggly screech as Miles’ legs flailed against the couch cushions.
“…You said three.” Hobie snickered, watching Miles try to wrestle his arm away before reaching one of his hands toward the floor and— “Hey, n-no, quit that!”
Miles had reached out, mostly blind, and tickled along the edge of his foot and up the back of his leg. Hobie quickly grabbed his arm, pinning it beside his head and scribbling under his arm with his free hand. Miles shrieked, cackling loudly and pawing at Hobie’s shoulder where he could.
“You tapping out already, Miles? Here I thought I trained you tougher than that.” Hobie gave an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head with a grin. “Or is it just because you got too many Squeak Spots?” His voice pitched hilariously toward the end, and he snatched the hand that was trying to crawl under his own arm to pin it over Miles’ head.
“Squeak Spots like that one?” Miles tried to tease as he caught his breath.
Hobie chuckled, maintaining a calm smirk and pulling Miles’ hood over his face again. “Nah, man. Squeak Spots are like this—” Miles squeaked and flinched at a quick poke to his bellybutton. “—Or this—” A screech at two fingers being jabbed under both of his arms. “Definitely this one.” While Miles’ arms were clamped at his sides, Hobie’s hands slipped under his hood, fingers crawling along his neck and scratching behind his ears. His face shifted to a bit of a sneer as Miles cracked into noisy giggles, snorts and squeaks escaping between them as he grabbed loosely at Hobie’s sleeves and kicked against the couch.
“You sound like Mayday, bruv; this’ll get you done out.” He teased. “Some mook is gonna get hands ‘round your throat, and you’ll be bustin’ up like who knows what.”
“I-I don’t understand—” Miles was barely able to form words through the giggles, only to get cut off by Hobie pushing his head to one side and blowing a loud raspberry into his neck. The resulting squeal put all the others to shame.
“Understand that well enough, Smiles~?” Hobie smirked and lifted Miles enough to slip out from under his full—now basically dead—weight. He let the teen’s legs rest across his lap, tapping a rhythm as he caught his breath.
“Nooo, don’t call me that.” Miles practically whined, little giggles still slipping into his voice. “I couldn’t get my family to shake that off until I was, like, thirteen.”
“’S pretty recent. Bet I could bring it back.” Hobie lightly poked a few lines across Miles’ foot.
“Hobie…” Miles kicked gently, pushing himself to sit up.
“What? Your parents like me; I could slip some suggestion, easy. I’m magic like that.”
“My parents don’t even like the friends who live in my dimension.” He gave a bit of a stretch, pulling his arms across his chest. “And I would have to actually kill you.”
“Pfft, like you even could.”
“I dunno.” Miles eyed him for a moment before putting his hands up, and the tiniest sparks of electricity jumped between his fingers. “I think I could.”
Hobie’s face might have twitched a bit, and he crossed his arms as he stared the kid down. “Square up then.”
Miles visibly brightened, shifting quickly out of Hobie’s lap and grabbing at his side with tingly hands. Hobie prickled at the shock, but he hardly bothered holding back. He curled up slightly, laughing softly and trying to keep his arms still.
“No fair; this worked on you last time!” Miles giggled, poking small shocks up and down Hobie’s side and ribs.
“Wasn’t expecting it last time; not my fault if you turn yourself into a one-trick—pfft, HA!”
Miles had shoved Hobie over onto the couch, one hand switching between quick squeezes and scribbles on the softest part of his hip while the other crawled along his leg to scratch his knee.
“Oh, ticklish legs? Figures you’d have Tall People Problems.” Miles teased, kneading along the back of Hobie’s calf and under his knee.
“S-Shut up!” Hobie demanded through loud giggles, crossing his arms over his face. “You little brat!”
“Hey, uncalled for!” Miles smirked at him, fingers crawling down around his ankles and up his socked soles. “You talk awfully big for someone who likes being tickled so m—”
Miles yelped as Hobie suddenly kicked him in the ribs. It hardly even hurt, but it easily threw him over the arm of the couch, leaving him slightly breathless on the floor. He let out a sort of giggle, his head spinning a little from the fall.
Hobie chuckled, having caught his breath almost instantly. He loosely held Miles’ ankle where it remained from him falling over, leaning his weight on his leg and smirking down at him. “See, now you’re in trouble, mate.”
-------------
It was actually a little rare for Pavitr to come to Hobie’s dimension. Something about the near-constant, raging anarchy made Pavitr kinda nervous. Hobie could admit that the comparatively chill vibe of Mumbatten was cozy in a way, not even mentioning how pretty a city it was.
But sometimes, you just don’t want to leave your own couch; and thankfully, the area seemed chill enough lately. So, Pavitr sat cross-legged on Hobie’s couch, wildly hitting buttons on a game controller as he tried to fight a boss. Hobie leaned backwards over the back of the couch, glancing between the upside-down views of the television and Pavitr’s determined look. He smirked to himself, reaching to run his hand obnoxiously over the side of his face.
“Oi, Pavi.” He said in a whisper, poking Pavitr’s cheek. “Pav, hey.” He poked his neck, grinning as he flinched. So began a series of mixed whispers and pokes and pinches around Pavitr’s head, escalating quickly to lightly ruffling his hair and tickling purposefully under his chin.
“Hobie!” He finally caved to giggles and paused the game, flailing one hand at Hobie’s and curling slightly away from him. “What do you want?”
Hobie shrugged with a smirk, and Pavitr groaned, shaking his head with a smile and refocusing on the game. Hobie yawned and stretched his back over the couch, feeling his shoulders and spine pop after a second. He watched Pavitr kite and jab at the boss for at least a couple of minutes before he finally rolled over. He rested his chin on his arms, his elbow nudging against Pavitr’s shoulder.
“Oi, Pavi…” He barely kept a straight face when Pavitr slowly cringed away from him. Boss was at, maybe, ten percent health. “What’d you say if I asked you to tickle me, eh?”
A look of visible confusion cut through Pavitr’s ‘focused gamer’ face, which was a shame, because that crit he just got put the boss at five percent health. “You—Wait, what?” He glanced up for half a second, panicking a little when he almost got hit.
Hobie had already moved though, now leaning over the couch directly behind his guest-turned-prey. “Ooh, too slow, mate.” He sighed as if he were disappointed, and his hands suddenly appeared at Pavitr’s sides, squeezing up and down his flanks. He pressed his thumbs firmly into his hipbones, and he sneered as Pavitr practically fell to pieces with bright laughter.
“W-Wait, no; not now, Hobie, please!” He just barely managed to hit the pause button again, and Hobie lifted his hands away.
“What’d you pause it for? You’re close.” Hobie was grinning like a fiend, letting his hands hover tauntingly.
“I know what you’re doing.” Pavitr couldn’t keep the nervous giggles out of his voice, and he didn’t dare look back. “Not my first time around the block with you.”
“Aw, c’mon now; I’ll be nice.”
“No, you won’t…”
“Nah, I won’t.” He leaned and rested his hands on Pavitr’s legs. “I think you just need one more hit though. How about it?”
The pause lasted a bit longer; Pavitr whined, and Hobie smirked at the pout he could picture on his face. Without warning, the game started up again, and so, with equal warning, Hobie’s hands scribbled along Pavitr’s thighs and knees.
“Tricky little bastard.” Hobie teased, resting his chin on Pavitr’s shoulder as he giggled loudly. “Yeah, maybe stop missing the guy.”
“Shut up!” Pavitr giggled, and the game paused again. Hobie pat his thighs, chuckling softly. “Hobie…”
“It’s just one more hit, mate. Pretty sure, anyway.” He let his fingers walk, slowly, almost politely toward his knees again. “Waitin’ on you.”
Pavitr flicked through the pause menus, using a few items before, once again, dropping back into the game when he thought it was safest. Hobie let him have that one second of thinking he wasn’t paying attention before his hands scratched and scribbled at both of his feet, ripping an adorable shriek out of his mouth that was quickly followed by cackles.
“Oof, maybe someone should consider a costume that doesn’t go around barefoot.” He hummed, poking his fingers between Pavitr’s toes.
Suddenly: an explosion appeared on the screen, the boss keeled over with a roar before suddenly bursting in a cloud of smoke and random drops.
“Well, damn, Pav. Look at you!” Hobie chuckled, nuzzling playfully against his face, and giving a few more gentle scribbles at his feet. “Respect, really.”
Pavitr stonewalled him—Well, almost, scratching between his toes still made him squeak like a mouse—and he clicked through the menus to save the game without looking back at Hobie once. He leaned to slide the controller onto the table before sitting up; he rolled his shoulders for a moment and cracked his neck as he uncrossed his legs. Finally, he took a deep breath and let it back out.
And then he grabbed Hobie by his arm and the back of his shirt, heaving him over the couch and slamming him against the cushions harder than necessary. Hobie didn’t put up much of a fight, laughing softly as the wind was knocked out of him on impact. By the time he looked up, Pavitr had moved to perch on the couch arm, crossing his arms as he tried to glare down at him.
“Pavi?” Hobie asked casually, mimicking his crossed arms. Pavitr held up one finger, cringing a little as he stood up and stepped onto the back of the couch.
He crouched down again, smirking this time. “Every boss has a second phase, Hobie.” He quipped, snapping his fingers.
Hobie snorted, shaking his head. “Took ya a minute cookin’ that one up, eh?” He grinned as Pavitr sat on his legs and glared at him again. He grabbed Hobie’s wrist in one hand, drawing his fingers down his forearm and tracing the edge of his hand.
Hobie prickled, biting at his tongue and the piercing on his lip as his whole arm tingled under that touch. “Y-Y’know anything about palm readin’ yet, bruv?”
Pavitr gave him that look he kept specifically for people who tease him about the same old stereotypes. “I do actually!” He said brightly, the sarcasm probably indecipherable to someone who didn’t know him as well as Hobie did. “Like, this line right here tells me you’re super ticklish!” He scratched gingerly along the largest visible line on his hand.
“This line shows you’re prone to being really bratty if you don’t get enough tickles.” He traced the muscle around Hobie’s thumb.
“Each of these lines—” He traced up each of Hobie's fingers, the smile on his face still genuinely sweet. “—Represents every little tickle spot you like. And, yeah, there are a lot of them.”
Hobie was…well, “struggling” was a fitting word. His free hand hadn’t really moved from where his arms had been crossed, but he gripped at his sleeve as Pavitr started teasing his palm. It tickled so badly, but at the same time, it wasn’t enough to really break him. His breath left him in shaky giggles that he had already given up on trying to stop, and his arm twitched as if every muscle inside was a tightening spring.
“Easy to forget, but this spot here—” He traced gentle circles on the back of Hobie’s hand, smiling brighter as his fingers clenched. “—keeps track of all your tickly energy. Even when you’re tickling someone else. And this last one…” He paused, staring as if he was confused. “Here, let me just—”
He suddenly blew a raspberry on the palm of his hand, and Hobie fell apart, his giggles bursting into loud laughter as his fingers tried to scratch Pavitr’s neck. The speed at which Pavitr shut that down made him flinch.
“Yeah, sorry; I couldn’t read it.” Pavitr shrugged, removing his grip from around Hobie’s fingers. “But, it pretty much just says ‘Tickletickletickletic—’"
“Pavi!” Hobie practically snorted, finally yanking his hand away when Pavitr scribbled at his palm. He let out a few tired laughs as he slowly caught his breath, flexing his hand in an effort to get rid of those tingles.
“Not gonna work, Hobie~ I thought you wanted me to tickle you!”
“Shut up…” Hobie rested his arms over his face, still giggling quietly and twitching a little as Pavitr started to poke him again.
“Poor, poor Gigglebug.”
“Do not call me that when you’re in throttling range.”
“Oh? Why? Would it be like this?” He moved his hands quickly up to Hobie’s neck, fingers scribbling at his collarbones and under his chin.
Despite the new wave of loud giggles, Hobie shoved himself to sit upright, wrapping his arms tight around Pavitr and leaning into his shoulder. Pavitr giggled quietly, getting one of his own arms free and tracing gently on Hobie’s back.
“I win.” He teased sweetly.
“I am going to kill you.” Hobie’s threat came on shuddering breath, and he snickered as nails dragged over his spine.
-------------
“Ooh, he’s taking the vest off!” Gwen called teasingly, snatching it out of the air when it was thrown at her head. “So serious all of a sudden.”
“Fuck you.” Hobie smirked; it felt good to be able to say that again. “‘less you want to go first, Gwenny.” He pulled his arm across his chest before rolling his shoulder.
“No, no; do your macho thing.” She taunted, slipping the vest on almost automatically. “So, Miles? Explain.”
The little gang was gathered in one of the training rooms at Spider Society HQ, sharing a few stories of feats from each of their dimensions, when Miles brought up the night he and Gwen had shut down Kingpin’s collider. Mostly, how he had barely survived the aftermath of doing that.
“Okay, so, like I said, the collider’s collapsing in on itself; implosions, explosions, it’s just crazy.” He began, twirling the strings on his hood between his fingers. “And I’m just there holding a string of web, and well…” He shrugged, lying across Pavitr’s lap. “Didn’t let go.”
“Pretty sure we’ve all done the lifeline before, bruv.” Hobie huffed. “Don’t see why ya wanted to bet on it so bad.”
“I never said it was a bet! You’re the one who—” Miles stopped himself when he caught sight of the smug look on Hobie’s face. “Look, just hold the thing, and don’t let go. Three minutes. Sound good?”
Hobie mulled it over, letting himself sink back to the floor. “Make it five. I’m showin’ you brats up today.” He smirked, setting a timer on his watch.
Pavitr chuckled, playing with Miles’ hair and glancing at Gwen. “He’s asking for it again.”
“Is he?” Gwen placed a hand on her chest, filling her eyes with as much shock as she could manage. “I never would have guessed.”
They giggled; Miles didn’t catch on until a few seconds later; and Hobie went a bit still.
He rested his arm across his knee and set his chin on his hand, levelling his eyes at the three of them with a stern sort of look. “Oi...”
His tone shut them up instantly, and he couldn’t resist smirking.
“Since you all like laughing so much, I suggest usin’ your five minutes wisely. Because when they’re up, well…” He shrugged casually, firing a small amount of webbing onto the floor and taking the strand in both hands as he laid back on the floor.
The trio glanced warily at each other before moving to line up beside him.
“Hm… Let’s try—” Gwen lifted Hobie up onto his side, and she and the boys crowded against his back. “Thoughts? Arguments?”
Pavitr leaned against Hobie’s thigh, smiling brightly. “Good here.”
Miles pat gently along Hobie’s arm, reaching to start the timer on Hobie’s watch. “Ready when you are.”
“Let’s go then!” Gwen declared, and the second Miles pressed the button, thirty fingers promptly set to crawling anywhere they could reach. Barely ten seconds passed before Hobie was struggling to keep his mouth shut. His hands clenched and pulled at the piece of web as snickers shook his frame.
“Sooo, five minutes, huh?” Miles snickered, scribbling gently along his armpit and ribs with both hands. “How’s everyone been? Hobie?”
“Shut up.” Hobie snapped at him, biting his lip on a few giggles.
“I’ve been great, personally!” Pavitr called, leaning slightly as he squeezed Hobie’s knee and around his hip. “Projects at school are going well; Margo said she might have a web shooter design for me; ooh, and I got to hang out with our favorite Gigglebug just recently.”
Hobie’s legs kicked slightly, and he barely managed to keep his mouth shut.
Gwen giggled as she watched Hobie’s face, scratching quickly across his stomach and up his side. “Ooh, our favorite Gigglebug? Maybe your favorite, Pavi.” She teased, sneaking one of her hands to pinch Miles’ waist and grinning as he elbowed her back. “I can’t blame you though; he does have this cute tickle button.” Her fingers managed to track down his navel through his suit, finally dragging out some unfiltered giggles.
“So do you!” All three boys said suddenly, eyes on her, and she was taken aback. They all fell into laughter, hands faltering enough to give Hobie a chance to breathe.
Miles snickered and leaned on Gwen for a moment, one hand digging fingers under Hobie’s arm while the other crawled along his neck. “I love that you didn’t tell me about your little nickname, by the way, Hobie; it’s awfully cute.”
“Why the fuck would I—No!” A choked laugh cut through his threatening tone when both of Miles’ hands moved back under his arm.
Miles shrugged, smirking down at him. “Well, if you’re going to beg for us to tickle you, it’d be a lot easier if we had a name for your little moods.”
Hobie just laughed and tried to curl up, his boots squeaking against the floor as he kicked.
“You still holding on, Hobie~?” Gwen called playfully, goosing his side and hip. “You know you can just admit you’re having fun.”
“F-Fuck off already.” Hobie’s voice was teetering on breathless with how he was straining to stop his giggles. “You brats wish you were as strong as I am taking this.”
Miles rolled his eyes and scratched at his ribs, but he blinked as Gwen leaned close to him.
“On my signal, we need to bolt.” She whispered; he practically had to read her lips.
“Wha—?”
“I play drums, Miles; keeping time is the least of what I can do. And he’s definitely jumping you first, so…”
She tapped his knee sharply, and he stammered for a second before turning invisible. Pavitr did a double-take, and as he was pushing himself off the floor, Hobie’s watch started beeping loudly.
The room was suddenly quiet as Hobie’s hands finally came off of the web, and he shut his watch off before running the heel of his palm under his eye.
“Ya always thinkin’ you’re so damn smart.” He murmured, pushing himself to stand up. “I was actually always planning on getting’ you first—” He fired off a shot of web fluid, catching Gwen by the back shoulder of his vest and yanking hard before she could just shrug it off. “Gwenny, I’m sick of you takin’ my shit!”
The sneer on his face said otherwise, especially at her indignant whine when he caught her against his chest. “You threw this at me!” She hardly even put up a fight as he scooped her under his arm, giggling excitedly even before he tickled the back of her neck.
“Yeah, and you sure fuckin’ caught it. Look where that got ya, sis. Oi, losers! The longer I wait for you, the longer I destroy both of ya.”
It was easy to keep Pavitr in his peripheral; his costume didn’t blend at all with the shadows here. Miles, though, Hobie could easily hear him hopping around nearby, inching closer with each landing.
It was hilarious being the only truly unpredictable one in a room, and Hobie loved showing these kids up.