Hobie Brown Turn Ons Headcanons!

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.

Yandere Hobie Headcanons

-Hobie never was one for labels but upon meeting you, an new addition to spider society, he was instantly smitten. He couldn't help but gravitate towards you, seeking you out whenever he returned from missions, striking up conversation whenever possible, even if just for a moment. He denies the fluttering butterflies in his stomach each time he gets a glance at you or hears your name.

-Whenever Miguel would speak to you for mission details, he couldn't help but clench and unclench his hands in his vest, barely swallowing the lump in his throat, an uncomfortable pit rising in his stomach, one he hadn't felt in a long time. 'jealously', he recalls the name of the feeling, it's ridiculous isnt it? He's jealous over you, beautiful and intelligent you talking to such an unworthy asshole like Miguel, that just wouldn't do, would it?

-His jealousy grows tenfold when you start to make other friends in the spider society, he follows you around, glaring at anyone who even gives blinks in your direction, Hobie may or may not lead you places in effort to keep you away from others, his hand on your shoulder. "Aren't you starved after that mission, luv? I know the best burger joint ever-" it's all for the best if you stick with him, after all.

-Hobie has an irritated look on his face when you get an hug from Gwen, or an fist bump with Pavtir, but on the inside, he's absolutely enraged. He then decided to up the interceptions for other spiders to interact with you at all, and you just assume it's Hobie being friendly Hobie right? No harm done, he's just...checking on you 24/7.

-Hobie practically spirals out when you get hurt on a mission, be it an sprain or a bruise, he's absolutely worried out of his mind, self loathing thoughts screaming at him for letting this happen to you. He applies ointment, checks bandages, and offers pain medication at every turn, if he was protective before, oh boy is this man never leaving your side. When Hobie is assured you're safe and asleep in your respective dimension, he types in the coordinates to whatever dimension you had been send on for the mission, tracking down the person who had injured you with terrifying precision, and ensures that they die in a way that doesn't ring any alarm bells for Miguel and the other spiders, should they find out.

-Hobie would creep carefully inside your bedroom, having gained your trust and became quick friends, he would let his fingers trail over your clothing in your closet, relishing in how your room smells like you, if you were asleep in the room, he would just kneel beside your bed, his eyes taking in every feature of your face with the softest of looks, his fingers would twitch, wanting to risk a brief hand running through your hair but he would remind himself 'not yet, not yet'.

Can we appreciate Hobie possibly not knowing all American lingo and mistakes Sloppy Joes as an Sex Reference?

Gwen: Hey, Miles! I'm feeling like I could go for a sloppy joe, how about you?

Hobie: *squints at Gwen*

Miles: I mean, yeah but they're so messy and I still have stains on my shirt from the last one-

Hobie: *chokes on saliva*

Miles and Gwen turn to Hobie:

Miles: Dude- do you want one or something?

Hobie: *Stares at them in baffled British* The fuck is an sloppy joe?????

Hobie Brown <3

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...

Hobie Brown with an asthmatic S/O

This man is stressed, he knows you can take care of yourself but seeing you have an asthma attack first hand has made him a bit of a mother hen at times, even though he tries not to be.

Bundles you extra warm and tight in the winter, and makes sure you have your inhaler always accessible when it's summer or spring.

He knows you have pockets but, just as a small gift he makes a small pouch for your inhaler, adding some stickers to remember him by on it.

When he spars with you, he would check in if he hears you get a bit wheezy. "You feelin' alright, love?" "Yes, babe, just like ten minutes ago." "Jus checking on my trouble n strife is all."

If you have any specific allergies or anything makes your asthma act up, he's removing the source instantly if he can help it. An plant? Gone. An furry animal in shedding season? He's luring the it away with a treat and pets, hurriedly washing his hands before returning to you.

If you forget about your inhaler at times, you're getting major attitude. "You got your inhaler, lovey?" "Yes, babe." "...you're sure." An pause..."yes..." "Then why am I looking at it on the bedside table." Another long silence. "I dunno."

Hobie Brown as a Brother Headcanon!

-Hobie as a brother would bring you to rallies and strikes, knowing you'd want to be part of the action as well, and of course he would assist you in making signs and ensuring you're in proper attire before coming along with.

-He would be protective, no matter if you're older or younger than him, especially when someone flirts with you. He would be behind you, noticing someone giving you looks and as they begin to walk over he would murmur in your ear, eyeing the person with caution, "Want em gone? I ain't above murder.."

-He would be the first person you would tell when you rip something that you own, and he would click his tongue, taking the item you ripped and inspecting it with gentle hands. "What 'ave I told you? I ain't your personal seamstress." He would huff, although he's already grabbing at his needle and thread..

-Hobie as a brother would just have a second sense for things, like if you were to get in trouble. He would slide up beside you, looking extremely amused as he nudges your side with his elbow. "So what'd you do? C'mon, tell me." He would urge until you finally give in saying how you graffiti-ed the water tower, he would clap and smile, "That's what I'm talkin' bout!"

Across the Spiderverse Characters as dances

-Hobie would be the moonwalk, he's effortless and smooth with it too, sometimes he'll do it out of pure boredom.

-Miles would be the worm, it's like the most basic dance he knows and when asked to dance, all other dances go out of his head. (Uncle Aaron one thousand percent taught him it to "get the ladies")

-Gwen would probably be the sprinkler, her motions are kinda awkward at first until she gets comfortable then her arm is just swinging with a huge smile on her face.

-Miguel would be the salsa, he just seems to know it down to a pat but he probably doesn't dance often so his motions might be a bit less fluid than what they used to be.

-Peter would insist that the dab was a dance, partly in effort to not get asked dance but upon insistence he would probably do the whip and nae nae, but add his own dance like "sling the web" into it.

-Mayday (I couldn't not add her) she's doing her own little mix of the dances with clumsy toddler limbs of course, but she would do the little toddler shuffle where she bounces up and down slightly, with a bright smile on her lips.

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.

General Hobie Headcanons

Hobie Brown gives me insomniac vibes. He would walk around late at night with his headphones on but he would probably be listening to white girl music while making a cup of beef ramen. "Ca-la-fornia girls we're unforgettable, daisy dukes, bikinis on top-"

He has an resting bitch face that makes a lot of people avoid him on the street, coupled with the fact he's tall as hell but if he comes across a stray animal? He's instantly crouching down and offering a hand to the animal with soft cooing noises, making a nickname for the animal upon the spot. "You look like a Charles to me.."

I don't care if he is spiderman, he seems like he runs into things constantly, not because he's necessarily clumsy but he's lanky and tall. If you ask him where he got the bruises, he would hum and shrug his shoulders. "Think I slept fought my toaster." Just give you a ridiculous excuse everytime.

Hobie loves beanies, problem is, the fabric has to be stretchy enough to fit his bunches of hair which some beanies are absolutely hard to find made with such fabric so he gathers (steals) the perfect fabric (He stood in the aisle for a good ten minutes before picking his favorite color of the fabric) and makes his own beanies as a result, adding his own personal touches of stitching, patterns and pins. "Big brands could never." He would scoff looking proudly in the mirror.

This man doesn't do matching socks, I don't care what you say. "Our downfall as a society started with matching socks." He would nod and say.