Across The Spider-Verse ONE-SHOTS

•Hobie Brown• Im trying to help

Tw/Cw:
Drinking
Thoughts of suicide

"What the hell is wrong with you?" There he stood infront of me, a stone cold frown and his eyebrows furrowed. He had shown up late at night to my house, covered in scratches and bruises. Which he does quite often, but never once has he told me why...

"Y/n, lay off my back will ya? Just let me in." He says, annoyed before trying to push past me and into my apartment. But he's quickly stopped by my arm pushing him back. I looked at him in disbelief.

"No you're not coming in." His annoyed expression turned into one of anger and I could see he wasn't having none of this. But neither was I, and he had to learn that.

"Why are you being like this? It's pissing a mans off." I scoff at the comment, he couldn't be serious.

"Me? Your the one being reckless!" He laughs in my face. And I glare back at him. What he was doing was stupid, and he can never seem to get that.

"Me? Reckless? Oh you're so funny Y/n-"

"Hobie stop! This isn't a joke anymore. It's not funny what you're doing!" He looks at me in disbelief, who was I to tell him what he should be doing? I didn't know anything, nothing about him being Spider-Punk, about what he's been through.

"It's none of your business what I'm doing. You don't know what I've been through!" By now I had started to see, Hobie was changing, I'm ways that I didn't want him too. But he was too much of a stubborn ass to help him.

"It's my business because I care Hobie. If you would just let me-"

"You're always nagging me, back and forth about what I do. Just give up already. This conversation isn't needed if you would just get over it." His tongue just out to mess around with his lip piercing, moving his eyes away from me to look at the other buildings lining the street.

"Go home Hobie. I'm not helping you tonight." He quickly turns his head back towards me, a look of hurt quickly shine in his eyes before it's replaced with anger.

"Yeah? Whatever I can do shit myself." He turns on his heel and starts to walk slowly down the steps of my porch, but he suddenly stops. I look at him before moving to go back into my house. Slamming the door in the process.

Hobie glanced at his watch, Miguel hadn't contacted him in a few days, he had wondered if he would soon, he doesn't care. Fuck Miguel. He looks back slightly at your door before pulling his mask back on and swinging away to another building.

I couldn't stop your eyes from watering when I closed the door, not hearing any signs of him still on my porch so my tears started to fall freely. Hobie and I hardly argued, though when we did it hurt more than anything. He had started growing distant recently and I had no idea how to stop it. I just wanted to help him, why wouldn't he let me help him?

My feet dragged as I started moving towards the kitchen, the buzz of my fridge giving a comforting sound when it opened, this wasn't something I wanted to do to myself, more like Hobie wouldn't let me. But who gives a shit about what Hobie thinks, he can be a dick if he wants but that doesn't mean he gets to control my life.

The bottles of beer shinned at me from the back of the fridge, covered by the other foods inside. It wasn't mine, my older brother had left them here last time he had come to visit. But I needed a distraction, something from Hobie.

Cold engulfs my hand as I reach inside the fridge, brushing other items as I make my way towards the back of it. My fingers wrapping around the bottle before pulling it out, and another one. Third for same measures before closing the fridge.

And moving out towards my couch, placing everything on the coffee table and resting back on the couch, I didn't know whether I wanted silence or to watch tv, but silence requires less work.