Can We Appreciate Hobie Possibly Not Knowing All American Lingo And Mistakes Sloppy Joes As An Sex Reference?

Hey I love your headcannons!

I was wondering if you can write some HCS of Hobie Brown dating a plus size partner? :3

Thanks!

Thank you so much! I'd be happy to!

Hobie Brown with a plus sized S/O

-Hobie will always have a hand on you, just generally cuddling you close, his love language is touch so this man quite literally is never more than a few feet from you.

-He uses your lap as his pillow very frequently, often times if you're sitting down on the couch it's about five minutes until Hobies head has made itself comfortable there, looking up at you with a cheeky grin. "Wha, im comfortable, aren't you comfortable?"

-Hobie is very big on showing his affection, so he'll often times come up behind you while you're making dinner or something, nuzzle his head into yours slightly and gently stroke the skin of your hip, asking what you're doing although it's very obvious what that is, he just likes to hear you talk.

-If anyone gives you a look, this man is on them before you even glance at them. He's smiling at them over your head (If you're shorter) or leaning behind you, (If you're taller) but the smile doesn't reach his eyes, and that smile is very dangerous. An almost, 'i fuckin dare you' smile.

-If you're ever feeling insecure about yourself, Hobie just knows, even if you don't tell him anything. He'll do extra things for you that day, maybe more kisses or cuddles than usual, dropping some reminders of how you and him first got together, emphasizing how amazing you look. "You remember when we met? All I'm saying is, I'm one lucky bloke." He would say, brushing your hair back with a adoring smile.

Sickly Sweet

Like Clockwork, every year in the spring I get sick. Be it the flu, extreme irritable allergies that won't go away or just a stubborn cough. It happens.

I groan, trying to shuffle some of the blankets that are cocooning and holding me hostage in my boyfriend's bed off of me, searching for a moment of rest from being so hot.

"What do you think you're doin'?" Comes from the doorway, and I practically deflate at the sound of that cocky voice I love so much.

"Babe, I need a minute without these blankets suffocating me." I quietly hiss, glaring at Hobie.

Hobie only walks closer, stopping right by my side to take the damp rag from my forehead and placing a fresh and cold one in its place.

I can't help but tense up at the sudden coldness of it but it becomes very welcomed after I get used to the feeling.

"Is this really necessary..?" I huff, but Hobie merely gives me an raised eyebrow look, and I roll my eyes.

"Open up, Lovey." He says, grabbing the thermometer from the crate-makeshift side table. I only glare at Hobie, eyes narrowed in refusal and pure stubbornness. "No."

"No?" Hobie repeats, an amused smile rising to his lips, shiny piercing at the corner of his lips catching in the dim light of the bedroom lamp.

"No, this is childish and I don't want to-" I'm interuptted by Hobie swiftly catching my jaw in one hand, placing the thermometer gently into my mouth and under my tongue, shutting my mouth around the thin piece of metal.

"Hush and let me take care of my darling, alright?" He murmurs, eyeing the thermometer and me with his own stubborn yet loving look.

All I can do is sigh and nod, letting Hobie keep me trapped underneath piles of blankets, fetching me cool rags to place on my forehead and hope I don't sweat to death.

Hobie gives amazing hugs! It’s a fact

Not only is it fact, it's commonly known that this mans hugs are top tier. He gives me a good squeeze kinda guy vibes, not an tight hug nor a loose one but he's incredibly warm when he does give hugs so you never wanna let go (Not like I'd want to in the first but yk-)

Hobie Doodle <3

PART TWO OF LOVER HEADCANNONS OF HOBIE?? :3

Part Two of Lover!Hobie Headcanons!

-Hobie is not a man of particular tastes. He is content to follow your lead or do as he pleases to you, with consent.

-One of Hobie's favorite places is in between your legs, with your hand gripped into his wicks. He can't resist chuckling into your dripping folds as your hips grind against his face, your hand tugging him to where you want him for that delicious friction.

-He is a cuddler. Wherever you are, he naturally drifts to you and begins to spoon behind you, an arm wrapped loosely around your waist while you watch TV at his place. More often than not, these impromptu cuddling sessions end up with your panties pulled to the side, and his boxers shuffled down just enough for him to rub his cock up and down your slit. "What do y'say, baby, can I fuck you?" He would whisper, kissing the back of your neck fervently. The minute you nod, one hand hooks around your inner thigh and lifting it to slide himself deep with one thrust.

-Lazy mornings are his favorite. I think he may have a slight somnophilia kink. He would love to open his eyes in the morning to see his partner grinding themselves into his hard length through his boxers, having gave his consent for this type of thing ages ago. He would pull you down to kiss him before moving his hands squeezing your hips and grinding his own hips up further into you."Couldn't keep your hands off me, hm?" He would murmur against your lips. "Dirty, dirty~" he chuckles approvingly, knowing he's just as dirty.

Hobie Brown Quirks Headcanons

-Do not bend down in front of this man if you're either his partner or very close friends, he is smacking your ass, regardless of where you are, without shame. When you turn around to scold him, he has an carefree grin on his face, hands up in mock innocnce. "I 'ave not a Scooby Doo what you're talkin' bout."

-He will curse out inanimate objects. Stubs his toe on the way out of his place on a loose floorboard? He's cussing it out, he accidentally gets wacked in the head by a branch? he's flipping it off. His reasoning is, "I ain't about discrimination, everything can be cursed out."

-I don't necessarily see Hobie being a messy person, being punk doesn't equal having an messy lifestyle, however he will have his days where he wakes up, with an ungodly need to clean. he's tying his hair up, and has an armload of cleaning supplies, and just cleans top to bottom. I just see him having a blast cleaning with his favorite playlist in the background bumping, nodding his head along to the beat as he sweeps.

-Pins. Pins and stickers everywhere. His mirror has the edges covered in stickers, with a bit of spray paint edging the rim as well, the back of his door? Covered completely, stickers overlapping from different shows he might have been out to completely random ones. He for sure has multiple pins that's "Kindly Introduce the Rich to my Fist" related. He sees a bucket full of stickers at local businesses? He passes by a few times a week to scope out which ones he doesn't have.

Hobie Brown as a Lover Headcanons!

Hobie Brown as an lover would be an whirlwind, there's no denying it.

He could go from passionate and rough to slow and sensual the next moment. "Come on darlin' a little bit more, mmfh- good girl~" to "You like it rough, oh yes you do, such a good little slut f'me, aren't you?"

He is devoted to your pleasure, ensuring that no matter where or what is happening that you feel the best you can be. "You feeling good, sweetheart?...good, good."

This man lives for quickies, the thrill, the adrenaline rush from possibly being caught is just too good a temptation for him to resist. He would pull you into the back stage room of his band's hangout, and settles you on top of one of the folding tables they have lying about, and absolutely pounds you. If you complain about possibly breaking the table mid passionate moment, he would huff an laugh, "I'll buy the bloody thing if it breaks, who gives a shit?" He would shut you up with kisses the next moment, maybe even thrusting into you a bit faster to make your mouth a bit occupied with moaning his name.

He eats pussy like no ones business, he has had previous partners and he has learned plenty. He would first learn your preferences, what you prefer and what you love. He would let your hand reach down and grip onto his wicks, and he absolutely loves it when you get lost in the pleasure he's giving you and pulls on his wicks. "Ooh! Tug a bit harder, love.." he would encourage huskily against your wet folds, flicking his tongue just a bit faster to make your legs tremble under his enamored gaze, his hands firmly keeping your hips in place, often rubbing reassuring small circles into the flesh.

Hobie has an high sex drive, often times it will result in morning sex more often than not, he would roll over and tug you gently into his arms, pressing his hard length in his boxers against your thigh or against your backside, grinding slightly. His hands would trail up and down your sides as he whispers sweet nothing's into your ear. "Please, baby? I'll make you feel so good, promise..." He would whisper, and within the next moment he's in between your legs, rolling his length into you almost lazily. "Such a greedy cunt, hm?" He would tease softly, nuzzling his nose into your neck as he fucks you slow.

Love bites, he absolutely loves them. Loves to receive them and give them, if you bruise easily he would be tickled pink at the sight of your neck obliterated with bites and hickeys, if you would get a bit angry at him he would come up behind you in the mirror as you think about how to cover them up, Hobie would lean his head down on your shoulder, his eyes focused on the marks in the mirror on your neck, practically oozing pride and affection. "Hmm...s'not that bad, you wanna make me match?" He would cackle and dodge from your swatting hands.

His favorite positions would probably be with you on his lap or mating press, against any surface really. he just loves being able to see your face scrunched up in pleasure, especially if it were a situation where you had to stay quiet. His hand gripping onto your hip as he fucks into you, with one arm above your head to brace himself and fuck into you just a bit harder as you bite onto your lip to stay quiet. He would smirk, leaning close into your ear as he tugs your leg up higher onto his hip, angling himself to hit all the right spots he knows drive you crazy. "C'mon, lovey, you don't want them to hear, do you?" He would coo mockingly into your ear.

Note:

If you guys send me requests, I assure you I will get to them in due time but I don't want to just give an "slightly okay" story, i want to give you guys something both you and I would read multiple times, I also like to do some research beforehand to make the stories accurate and relatable, but I'm currently struggling with some writers block at the moment although i assure you i will get to requests when possible! Your guys requests are awesome and I appreciate them all very much! <3

Piercings and pretty lips

⚠️ TW ⚠️ : Mentions of piercings, needle and decent in depth process of tongue piercing.

Duck- Affectionate British slang term of affection for another person.

Word Count:2,066

"This would go so much smoother if you stayed still, y'know."

You give an incoherent response as you glare at Hobie through the iridescent light of his bathroom, not that he wouldn't be able to tell the mild impatience in your tone regardless of how unintelligible. Your tongue is pinched carefully between Hobies index and thumb finger, his eyes flickering from yours and back to the extended pink muscle.

Being around Hobie must be an greater influence than what you had expected, as you mentioned thinking about getting an piercing in casual conversation with him while lazing about one slow afternoon at his swaying canal boat home, Hobie had practically perked up like an shark smelling blood in the water at the idea.

How you had convinced Hobie to pierce your tongue in his bathroom of all places though in your eagerness, you aren't too sure but you're certainly not complaining while you sit on the edge of his bathroom counter, Hobie situated between your spread legs to get to properly get a grip on your tongue, seeing if you have the proper anatomy for said piercing.

Hobie hums, tugging just a bit on your tongue between his fingers, testing the elasticity of it ignoring when you grumble at him. "Well, you certainly have the anatomy for it." He says, releasing his pinched fingers from your tongue. You bring your tongue back in your mouth, running it along the roof of your mouth to get rid of that odd dry feeling of it being exposed to air for longer than usual.

"Is that a yes, then?" You ask, barely able to contain your excitement at Hobie nod. He leans to the side, one of his hands lightly drums onto your thigh into an practiced rhythm while the other pulls up the tray of sterilized tools he had prepared on the counter for after his inspection of your tongue. Although you're sure he's had it down his throat enough times to know you had the proper anatomy the entire time, but you don't say complain.

"And you're positive you want this, duck?" He says, quirking up one pierced eyebrow at you still drumming his fingers against your thigh, leaning back to fully gauge your reaction. The familiar nickname rolling off of his tongue, you never really did ask why he had started to call you that but it feels too late to ask about it now. You just glare at him and nod, even sticking out your tongue to further solidify your stubborn answer, you feel if you prolong this you might go back on this whole idea. Hobie huffs out an small chuckle as he shakes his head amused by your antics, "Alright, if you're sure.." he murmurs fingers finally resting against your thigh.

He grabs at an thin black marker from his pocket, gently gripping your tongue between his index and thumb finger again his eyes narrowed in focus as he dots right in the middle of your offered tongue. It surprisingly doesn't have an gross taste you note, just a tad bitter. Hobie leans back and releases his hold on your tongue, shuffling to open a drawer beside your calf digging around until grasping at an hand held mirror and holds it up for you to see the dot marked on the pink muscle. "Right 'bout there?" He asks.

You look into the mirror already trusting Hobies judgement and precision, nodding in satisfaction as you deem the placement of the dot acceptable. Hobie nods back, although it's more of an subconscious movement of your own agreement. He places the handheld mirror down beside you on the counter, his warm hand drifting from your thigh to open the sterilized packed needle on the metal tray on your opposite side. He opens the package with quick fingers, likely from practice of piercing his friends over the years and stitching. You feel a hint of nerves buzzing in the pit of your belly, but you trust Hobie explicitly to not screw this up...mostly. But if things were to go wrong, you would have solid blackmail for at least an year you think on the bright side.

Hobie then grabs at an pair of silver long forceps laid on the silver tray next to you, adjusting his hold on them, moving towards your tongue, clamping down on it with an steady grip as he lines up the dot on your tongue with the hole in the forceps. It doesn't feel too uncomfortable just a bit firmer pressure than Hobies fingers, your eyes trailing Hobies fingers as they move deftly into the open package of the piercing needle and picking it up between two fingers.

"Right, on three.." he murmurs, his eyes meeting yours for a moment of mutual understanding, your hands move to grip at the hem of Hobies shirt in preparation for what is more likely going to hurt like an bitch. You close your eyes as Hobie begins to count down, you feel him move just a bit closer his thigh nudging your legs apart just enough to slide a bit further in between them, easily closing most of the space between you. It would be tender how he molds himself to you if it weren't for the giant needle hovering so close to you.

"One...two...three-!" He cuts himself off just as he pushes the needle in through your tongue. Your grip on Hobies shirt tightens instantly as the needle strikes all the way in. You feel saliva build up in your mouth from the sudden sharp pinch, your nose scrunching up as you breathe through the discomfort as you try to keep your tongue still regardless of the forceps doing that perfectly for you.

"There you go, duck...jus' breathe, in and out through your nose." Hobie murmurs soft reassurances as he puts the forceps aside while keeping the needle steady through your tongue while his other hand grabs at the jewelery placed on the side that he had shown you for your possible options of tongue piercings he had kept around in a tiny mint container assuring you they were all sterilized and clean although you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes as he said it was for in his words 'Mo-mintos' .

You had opted for an an small silver one, it's regular in size and shape but he had said it would look perfect with a sly wink, almost as if knowing something you don't. The last thing Hobie had wanted to do was overwhelm you with a larger piercing you assume.

He slides the jewelery in with ease as he pushes the needle out completely, tossing away the needle efficiently to the trash can in the opposite side of the room before working on screwing in the balls of the silver piercing on each end with quick fingers, unbothered when a bit of saliva and blood runs down over his fingers. You finally peek your eyes open squinting at Hobie through the tears.

Hobie looks up from your now fully pierced tongue, his pupils are a black hole surrounded by his beautifully colored iris as he looks into your eyes. He hums lowly in appreciation, his right hand coming up to wipe away at the saliva and blood dribbling down your chin. "How're you feelin'?" he asks, always attentive. If you weren't so focused on how close he is you can hear the undertone of pride as he speaks.

You slowly bring your tongue back into your mouth, feeling the cold metal of the piercing quickly adjust to the warm temperature of your mouth. The taste of your blood in your mouth isn't unbearable, but the amount of saliva gathering in your mouth is a mild inconvenience as you begin to talk. "I feel fine but it feels weird.." you acknowledge, testingly running it along the roof of your mouth before Hobie can warn you.

You wince immediately feeling as if your tongue were struck by lightning, and Hobie clicks his tongue but his eyes show only concern if not a hint of amusement too. His hands land on your thighs squeezing through the denim of your jeans to try to ground you against the pain buzzing through you. "Ya can't just do that. It's gotta heal." He scolds you giving you an raised eyebrows look, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Which it is. But still.

You nod as your eyebrows remain scrunched together, mostly focusing on trying to will the pain away, but ever greatful for Hobies quick thinking of using his hands to squeeze and rub up and down your thighs, the warmth of his large palms through your jeans is hard not to notice. His lovely, talented palms. Good God, now you're blushing. As if the pain wasn't enough to make you want to jump off of a cliff.

If Hobie didn't notice the heat rising to your cheeks he most certainly is almost able to feel it by how close he is. You speak after the pain finally dims, just slightly. "I was curious." Is all you state, beginning to feel your tongue swell around the base of where the piercing is nestled. Hobie snorts, his head rolls down to your shoulder momentarily, resting there as he stills his comforting motions on your thighs. You barely stop the whine coming from your throat as Hobie pulls his hands away, only to stop once they land on your cheeks and he looks back up, meeting your burning gaze.

"You're an dunce. Open up f'me."

You don't even bother to validate that with an verbal response, guessing he wants to see the piercing once more. You oblige and open your mouth, sticking your tongue back out, the shiny metal damp with saliva and hints of blood. Hobie seems to drink the sight in eagerly, his eyes glued to the metal jewelry he had placed there.

"Knew it would look killer, had a bunch'a fun memories with this one.." he murmurs, thumbs rubbing subconsciously at the skin of your cheeks. Memories? Your eyes widen comically, and Hobie chuckles, his eyes unsticking from the piercing to your own wide eyes. "Oh? I didn't mention that this was my starter?" He states noncommittally, as if it were the most causal thing ever. You had known Hobie had his tongue pierced, it was common knowledge, like when he stuck out his tongue in sassy retort during fond arguments, when he made up for those exact arguments..

But this was unexpected on an entire new level. You had his first ever tongue piercing jewelery in your mouth, likely from years ago. You can hardly contain your hands from gripping Hobies shirt tighter, butterflies rushing to life in your belly at the thrilling revelation. Hobie can't help but smile wider at your clearly affected reaction, keeping his hands on your cheeks. "If I didn't know any better, you like that idea.. don't you, duck?" He coos with just the right amount of condescension. His hands going to rest from your cheeks to beside your legs on the counter you're sitting on, eyes half lidded as he memorizes your no doubt flustered face, cheeks aflame and still dumbly sticking out your tongue for him to admire.

You nod, still at a loss for words but bring your tongue back into your mouth, the pain is a dull after thought by the way Hobie is looking at you as if you had given him an perfectly wrapped present has you trying to lean closer to connect your lips to his but he quickly evades it by moving his head beside your ear, clicking his tongue again in disapproval.

"Uh-uh, no kissing for three weeks till it heals." He reminds you so quietly into your ear and you feel blood rushing into your hear at his voice so close, so sweetly, but you sink back in disappointment at the mention, new piercing means no kissing after all.

Hobie must sense your disappointment as he gently knocks his head into yours, your disappointing thoughts pushed away as he gathers your full attention, suggesting something even more tempting into your ear. "I never said we couldn't do anything else." He says, nuzzling his head down to your neck, pressing soft kisses and nips to the flesh of your neck. "Just keep those pretty lips to yourself, yeah?"

Hobie Headcanons as a Dad

It doesn't matter if he has a daughter or a son, he would one hundred percent teach them to defend themselves, not without a bit of sass of course. "Are you sure you're mine? That punch reminded me way too much of slime bouncin' off the wall."

Shoplifting. Oh, his kid wants a toy? If it's from a corporate store, he's snatching it with ease but if it's something large that his kid wants, he would just make it, or steal small parts one at a time.

Shoulder rides/piggy back rides all the time, play wrestling is always going on.

If his partner has a different accent than him, he would absolutely teach the kid to make fun of their other parents speaking. "Why is our child saying I speak like Donnie Thornberry when I'm angry..?" "Not a clue, babe." He's secretly cackling.

He wouldn't do the reach behind the seat thing in the car and say, "Dad tax". He would reach back in between stops, taking the snack/bag up front so the kids would have to steal the snacks back. "If you can steal it, s'yours."

Hobie as a Dad, would mean you'd find little sketches of his kids in little spiderman outfits with punk flare of course in the pockets of his jeans or vest, and if you just find little cut out patterns for such suits and a homemade sewing machine...no you didn't.