━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━➢Read A/N and TW PLZ!
Summary: When your school schedules you for a year abroad you thought that was as lucky as you'd ever get. Imagine your surprise when you find out you're the apple of somebody's eye, two somebodies! Will you bag the foreign cutie or pack your bags by the end of the school year? No one ever said love was easy!
✯ Characters: Hobie x Fem!Reader
✯ TW!: Usage of cigarettes, Using OCs to push the storyline along, mentions of blood, one of the OCs being a creep lowk!
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━➢Do not copy, run through ai, or plagarize my work!
Author's Note: So I wrote something! I'm a first time fanfic writer and I kinda just wanted to write for yk me and others who might end up enjoying this kinda stuff in my fandom. I'm not claiming to b some like writitng scholar so yk don't like don't read. Hon this has been sitting in my drafts for like ages now. I have a second part in the works but it might take a while. I plan to do four parts so look out for that if u end up liking this! LASTLY i made a moodboard I'd suggest looking at it b4 reading cause it sets the vibe lol I'm also gonna link a song on spotify but if u don't use that i put the name to search on like yt or apple music ok happy reading :p
Moodboard! | Uneasy Hearts Weigh The Most- Dance Gavin Dance
{Part 1} | {Part 2} | {Part 3} | {Part 4}
"So did any of us see her?"
The back of the classroom goes mute, a group of typically rowdy schoolboys reduced to silence by a simple question. It's early, nearly 7:30 AM; the loudly ticking analogue clock says so. Even the sun itself had hardly risen, a cascade of oranges and pinks painting the old classroom in a warm light. Strewn chairs, tossed coats, and piled bags the only evidence homeroom was even in session. Too early for any sort of disturbance, but high schoolers will always find a way to change that.
"Who? Don't be so cryptic, mate."
"Cryptic? The English professor won't let you hit ya know."
"For fucks sake! The exchange student?" There's sudden silence once more; the question prompting the group of boys to think harder than they've had to in a while. It's far from a foreign topic; word spreads quickly amongst bored teens. In fact, it's all that anyone's been talking about for the past two weeks. One student sent from the states to grace Camden's local high school for their senior year. Of course, people were talking about it, jumping at the prospect of interacting with a cute foreigner.
"Oh. That? I wish I'd seen her."
"I've seen her," gruffs a slightly deeper voice with a heavy roadman accent lacing his tone. Three words and the banter had already died down; the boys now curious and anticipating what Hobie had to say, all the boys except for one.
"Course Hobie's tha one to meet her, scared her off, I bet," the more nasally voice scoffs, frankly annoyed by Hobie getting all the girls. Since they'd all been going to school with Hobie, his bold nature had captivated all sorts of girls, yet he always seemed to turn them down, often resulting in friendly backlash from his mates. But not today, for many reasons, today would be different.
"Oi, chill on him, Kai. What's she like and is she single is wha' we should be askin'."
"She's alright," Hobie responds, ever monotone and uninterested. Leaning back in his chair, he props his legs on the old wooden desk, feigning indifference to the group of boys.
"Jus' alright? Don't be a cockblock—"
Tense is the only way to describe the moment; no one really wanting to mess with Hobie this early. It's not that he's feared per se, but when you're purely yourself without a care, you earn a sort of respect from the people around you. A respect that Hobie had amassed a good amount of since he'd been in the school system. To the others, it's just him being dismissive as he sometimes is, but locked down deep inside Hobie's heart is the interaction the two of you shared this morning.
"Why's it gotta be so fuckin' cold?" Kai's dress shoe kicks a nearby rock that loudly smashes into a pristine pair of Mary Janes walking beside him. The owner of said shoes huffs in practiced anger, pausing in front of the rock.
"Because it's winter, idiot," A female voice whispers, her tone laced with worn-down annoyance as she kicks the rock back to him, being careful not to scuff her shoes before the dress code check.
"Shut up, Yaz," Kai's equally annoyed voice responds, side-eyeing his twin sister like she personally offended him.
"Both of you shut it. S'no use being hangry at each other so early. Go get breakfast or zip it, yeah? I shouldn't have ta deal with the whinin' already," Hobie sighs out. Camden's frigid winter air turning his breath into a visible cloud of white. He's known the two for a long while; Kai's like a brother to him, and he'd defend Yaz with his life. Still, no matter how long Hobie's been dealing with Kai's bullshit, it's insanely annoying when he and his sister are constantly at each other's throats. Gravel crunching and a distant, annoyed sigh are all that Hobie gets as confirmation that the two twins even heeded his advice and decided to head to the cafeteria.
A grey path of stone and gravel leads up to the school. It's extravagant, really. Large brick walls form each section of the grand building, with moss running up the sides. Tall, intricate window frames provide ample lighting for the many hallways, already candlelit by wall-mounted lamps just as intricate as the windows. The many rooms of the school making it look akin to a castle right out of a fairytale, a beauty that Hobie had come to enjoy during his downtime on campus.
Dim yellow lights illuminate the foyer of the boarding school, spiral wooden stairs lead to the next few floors and the walls are lined with deep blue lockers: Hobie's space. At least one of many. It's where you'll find him when he's skipping, or eating, or doing anything other than going to class; it's where he is right now. A locker flush to his back as he tinkers with one of his handmade spiky bracelets, definitely against school dress code, the black and silver of the spikes clashing with the deep blue and red plaid of his school uniform. But he's never been one to care.
A shrill ring emits from the bell, and while Hobie would love to be late to class, even he can admit that it's a bit too early in the year to get a detention. His long stride carries him down the near empty hallway, hands in his pockets and his eyes closed, listening to the echo of shoes on the checkered tile of the hall.
"Shit! Sorry, didn't see ya there." His eyes open, and he blinks. Once, twice, thrice, just to make sure he's really seeing this right. Being Spider-Punk means many things; he has to be strategic, flexible, attentive, but most importantly, unattached. It's dangerous work to fight off the evil that plagues Britain, the prospect of not making it home an ever-looming threat. Yet, that last one all but gets thrown out the window once he truly gets a good look at you. You're staring, rightfully so, as his stature looms over your startled figure on the cold tile, goosebumps littering your beautiful skin. He offers his hand in hopes you'll take it and maybe never let it go. It's when you place your hand in his that he realizes he's fucked, completely and utterly fucked.
Hobie helps you up, and you dust your uniform off while sneaking a glance at him. Sure, he's wearing the basics, the plaid red pants (albeit very altered with sewn-on patches) and long-sleeve dark blue blazer, but everything else on him damns all rules. Hard silver rings adorn his slim fingers, a black studded belt slung low on his waist, and facial piercings that glint even in the low lighting. Who is he?
"You alright? Didn't mean ta...scuff you on your first day, innit." His voice wavers uncharacteristically, a symbol of his nervousness. Fuck, why's he losing his cool over this? Over you? He can't even remember the last time someone left him stuttering, much less on accident. Despite his worries, he hears you slightly laugh, and he's sure that if angels were real, you'd be his first suspicion hands down.
"How'd you know it's my first day? I didn't think it was that obvious," you respond, yet you find you don't really care if it's obvious or not, you just want him to say something, anything. He's talking again, responding to your silly question, but it's not even going in one ear at all. His words are all a distant buzz when your eyes flick up to properly scan his face: a sharp jawline and pierced two-tone lips that call your name like a siren. Fuck... you would've transferred earlier if you knew there were boys like this in Camden. A secret part of you hopes all boys out here are the same.
"Not to break your concentration there, but the bell rang, luv." A pause, and you nearly miss the way his eyes scan over yours. Love? That's got to be a British thing, right? It's not personal, right? Nevertheless, your face heats up like it's trying to put the Sun to shame. It's awkward, for you at least. What do you even say without sounding like a dork?
"What's your homeroom?" You're caught off guard a second time. Why would he want to know? You open your mouth to say something, but it would be stupid to trust your voice right now. Instead, you pass him your schedule paper. Slim fingers brush against yours once he takes the paper from you, and it embarrassingly sparks something within you. His face is stoic, a stark contrast from your slightly red one; he reads down the paper, committing your schedule to memory.
"Fidian first? You'll have a grand time in there, I'll tell you tha'." Then he's heading off in the direction of your classroom, looking back to see if you'll follow.
"Wait, you're walking me?"
"Sure. S'the least I can do for inconveniencing you on your first day." The walk is silent but not completely awkward. His long stride easily puts him ahead of you, but you can't bring yourself to mind when you get to admire his lanky form and the space around you. Concrete walls with paintings as old as time, light yellow and white checkered flooring that echoes each footstep. The halls seem to have too much personality and history; It's weirdly calming. You both reach the door of your class, and he promptly turns to leave.
"Wait! Uh, thank you...?"
"Hobie. You can call me Hobie." You nod, trying to remember his name as best you can.
"No need, I already read your name on the schedule."
"Right... Well, thank you, Hobie. Hopefully I'll see you around?" You hear him laugh, it's rich, deep, and you wish you had a recording of it to play on repeat when you get bored.
"M'positive you will." With that, he's gone, and you're crashed back to earth like none of it ever happened.
Scraping follows the deafening squeak of the heavy wooden door once you manage to force it open. Everyone's staring; how could they not? It's not every day the school gets a new exchange student.
"Ah, I see you've arrived on time. Please take your seat in the back." The professor points to an empty chair next to a very sleepy student. Peering eyes unwaveringly follow you until you make it to your desk. Worse, your chair squeaks when you sit down, and the sound is enough to startle your desk mate, who sits up in a hurry.
"Huh!? Oh. Oh! You're the new student, right? I knew I'd be the first one to meet you! I'm Yaz, and you can call me Yaz, cause that's my name." Yeah, she must've been really tired. In turn, you tell her your name, and she instantaneously strikes up a conversation.
"Soooo, meet anyone cute yet? If not, I could totally help set you up! It's not a real school year if you don't have a little fling." She jokes, wiggling her eyebrows and hoping to coax you into spilling your feelings. Her voice is loud and overly cheerful for someone who was just sleeping. It draws annoyed glares from students, and even the teacher tries to shush her a few times, but Yaz just scoffs and continues on.
"Not really? It's hard to tell on the first day." A blatant yet necessary lie. In all truth, Hobie's the hottest guy you've ever seen. Clearly, he has some sort of reputation around here, so no doubt the word would spread like wildfire if you told the resident blabbermouth. Then what? You'll have to cower in embarrassment for the whole year every time you pass him! Yeah, no.
"I'm sure you'll find someone soon, I gotchu girl. I know a bunch of guys who would be good for you. Or no good if you're into that! I know I am." From there, the conversation just flows. You both talk about anything and everything, judgment basically nonexistent in that moment. It's surprisingly easy to talk to her; she's always got a story or a piece of advice to give, so the conversation is hardly dry. Sure, her prying questions and overly upbeat personality can be annoying at times, but no one said she had to be perfect. By the end of homeroom, you were able to gain a pretty good understanding of Yaz and vice versa, like two pieces of a puzzle clicking.
"You know, you're way too pretty for this place. I hope you're ready for the boys to be all over you." She hands you her phone and you both trade numbers; she even put her name in your phone as 'bestie' with a bunch of pink emojis, reminiscent of her over-the-top personality.
"What class do you have after this? I'll walk you," she mumbles excitedly, typing things into your contact info even after the teacher had scolded her to put her phone away.
"Hm.. Bio. What about you?" A high-pitched squeal erupts from her at your words. A resulting sharp inhale from the teacher indicates that this isn't the first time she's had to deal with Yaz.
"My brother has that class! No way! I'll introduce you, oh, it'll be so cool if we all become friends!" She rants on for a while longer, and you can't find it in yourself to tell her no.
"Alright! Meet my brother Kai! Oh, and his geek friend Hobie." Yaz shows them off like prizes and effectively earns eyerolls from both of them. You look up from your locker only to find the punk dude from earlier and presumably Yaz's brother standing next to him. Hurriedly, you slam your locker shut and introduce yourself, hoping to make a good impression on Hobie. Unfortunately, it's pretty clear that instead of Hobie, it's Kai that's a 'little' into you.
"What's a peng thing like you doin' in an old place like this?" Kai asks. He's leaning on the lockers to look cool, but you can't even bring yourself to tear your eyes away from Hobie's hazel ones. His gaze is near-dangerous, half-lidded, uninterested gaze amplified by the way that the lighting in the hallway accentuates his already bold features.
"I just flew in yesterday, so uh yeah it's my first day here. I think it's beautiful, though." You're pretty sure your words just come off as you being shy, and you are! But not because of Kai, rather his spike-clad friend next to him and the way his gorgeous eyes bore into yours like he's analyzing your every thought.
"I hope you're lovin' it here so far. You have biology next, yeah? Yaz texted me all about it during class. I can walk ya. Hobie and I have that class as well, innit." Kai really doesn't know when to quit; you try to turn him down as nicely as you can without starting drama on your first day.
"I'm sorry, Yaz and I said we would walk together." Your eyes shift to hers for backup; even so, she sadly doesn't get the hint.
"It's fine. If I walked you, I'd be late to class anyway, and my first period teacher already hates my guts." One wave and she's gone, leaving you with Hobie and Kai. No one talks for a moment. There might've been a ton of students yelling in the halls, but it didn't do anything to lift the thick veil of tension between you three. Thankfully, someone else did.
"We'll lead, luv." Hobie drags Kai by his collar roughly as they start off to Biology class, walking slow enough so you can follow along and not get lost in the many hallways of the school.
"So you've got it bad fa her, I see." He whispers to Kai, making sure you're just out of earshot.
"Oi, I'm jus' tryin' to play my cards. It's not every day you get a bird as cute as her that's single," Kai shrugs, not phased by any threats Hobie had to offer. He'd grown accustomed to them as time passed.
"Whateva, jus' don't scare 'er off. You were bein' a creep back there, mate." Hobie shoves his hands back in his blazer pockets, bumping shoulders with Kai as they continue to walk to class. His own way of saying 'watch it'.
The class passes by in a flash; Hobie and his friends make good entertainment in a slow class like that one. The whole lot of them are your average class clowns, joking just to joke or annoying the teacher to prolong the lesson. Still, there really wasn't a dull moment other than the times when you could feel Kai staring at you; his eyes basically burned a hole in the back of your head by the end of class, which dulled something. Either way, class lets out, and the hall is overflowing with students excited for lunch. A sea of plaid and blue floods your vision, and you hardly notice the student creeping up behind you. They tap your shoulder.
"Huh? Oh shit. Yaz! You startled me," you yell out, still not used to the sheer amount of students in the halls at once.
"Sorry, not sorry! Anyways, you're coming to lunch with me!" Without giving you time to respond, she grabs your hand with a surprisingly strong grip and leads you down the emptying hall. Students disperse everywhere, some eating near the ladder for the bell tower. You both pass the library and see a group of girls studying and chatting over their lunch. It's nearly aesthetic, this place. Yaz continues down the hallway, avoiding every door in the hall.
"You passed the cafeteria," you notice as she brings you to the front entrance of the school, just past the foyer.
"Yeah, did I mention we eat somewhere a lot cooler? You'll love it. Hopefully," she mumbles that last part, but you still manage to hear it.
"We?" you ask, unsure what to think of her statement. She continues dragging you until you reach the gated alley beside the school. Not technically off property, but most certainly closed to the student body. The brush and forest right next to the alley gates do make for a good cover, nonetheless. Maybe Yaz was onto something. Loud clanging is heard after she slams open the wire gate, not caring who'll hear. Two steps into the alley and you're met with the strong scent of smoke and the sound of music muddled by rowdy voices, male and female alike. Someone calls out to Yaz. Does everyone know each other in this place?
"Yaz! You brought a friend? I didn't know anyone would willingly hang out with your lame ass." In the alley, many people stand and chat while eating their lunch. Some smoking and posed up against the brick side-wall of the school. Others huddled in a circle playing a card game of sorts. In the middle of it all are Hobie, Kai, and their friends. No doubt the loudest of all. The whole place is shaded from the sun by the towering trees of the nearby forest, creating a small hideout space for the tight-knit friend group. Some students are dressed similarly to Hobie; most are actually abiding by the dress code, but all of them are staring at you and Yaz once you enter.
"Chill. I brought the new exchange student. She's super fun and cool, I promise." Well, at least she defends you this time. Almost instantly, the music turns back up; the loud boombox playing a mix of what seems to be rock and hip-hop, possibly even crunk. It's something unique to the clique you seem to have found your way into. One by one, the students start minding their own business. Smoke overpowers your senses; it seems to be a common habit for those who hang here. Despite that, the alley doesn't seem to be a terrible place to eat lunch. Yaz again takes you over to her brother and the rest of them. The boys peer up from their seats on the floor when they hear approaching footsteps. She traitorously sits you next to Kai, and he subtly scoots a bit closer, almost shoulder to shoulder.
"So what's up, wanna smoke or are you two just going to be lame and girl talk?" Kai starts, most likely hoping to make conversation with you while flaunting to the group. A few of the boys chuckle and pretend to apply lipstick or nail polish in teasing mockery. Kai holds out his lit cigarette to you and his sister.
"Bruv, no. Smoking is like... terrible for your lungs. Plus, I'd be setting a bad example for our new friend," she huffs and shoves the cigarette away. Kai shrugs and brushes it off by taking a hit.
"More for me and my mates then." It's awkward, even if Kai doesn't want to acknowledge it; he knows it, and his mates are starting to notice.
"So are you single?" one friend asks. The voice cuts through the tension like a dull knife, and you already know the question is aimed at you. They all stare, with the exception of Hobie, whose eyes are closed while he exhales smoke towards the sky. Yaz groans, already annoyed, which, by everyone's reaction, tells you that they often piss her off way too much.
"Oi, don't make me regret sittin' here. I'm doin' you all a solid by gracin' you with her presence." She continues to go off on them, lecturing them about how to treat girls and how rude it is to ask a question like that, but it's clear they're all used to her lectures, probably from years of hanging out with her. Most of them just laugh or roll their eyes, waiting for her to be done.
But once she's done, it's not so awkward anymore; everyone warming up to having a new member in their space. If anything, it's actually quite friendly, and some of them even made interesting non-romantically charged conversation. It's refreshing to actually see a group that cares so much for each other, even though they're so different; it's far from what you had back in the States. From the corner of your eye, you can see Hobie staring off into the sky, smoke framing his face like an abstract picture frame. For a split second, his gaze meets yours, and you can almost make out a smile on his dark features before his eyes return to the grey of the overcast sky.
Around three months have passed, and they've been pure bliss to say the least. School is still school, no matter where you go, but now that you've gotten closer to Hobie and Yaz, it's a lot more exciting to go to class. You've made a good amount of friends, even getting closer to Kai, even though he's still pining after you. It's also a lot more exciting to skip class, especially when it's just you and Hobie.
Smoke curls towards the sky in hypnotic spirals as he takes a hit of his cigarette, rough boots crunching on the gravel of the path behind the school. Not quite the forest but not quite on campus, the area hidden just enough to be perfect for skipping. There he leans on the back wall with you sitting to his left, knees pulled to your chest as you let your head rest on the brick wall. His gaze softens as he glances at you through his peripheral. Not that he'd say it so soon, but he likes these moments the best. When there's no need to talk, the silence carrying all the words he doesn't feel like saying, and the smoke drawing out all the stress he needed to get rid of. In a way, it feels like you're close even when he's positive your mind is somewhere distant.
A sharp buzz emanates from his phone. Shit. No doubt a matter Spider-Punk will have to deal with. He sighs heavily, throwing the butt of the cigarette on the floor and stomping it out with his combat boot, effectively catching your attention. You glance up at him, and he's already regretting even considering fighting evil, wondering if the world would care that Spider-Punk took a day off, but he knows that's all just a dream. One that he's found himself thinking of more often now that you've arrived.
"I've gotta take care of something, see ya around, yeah?" Then he's gone just like that, foggy smoke in the place where he used to be. He doesn't look back, too afraid of what he'll see. Your eyes beckoning him to stay just one more second, and he knows that if he did look back, he'd see the destruction and the chaos he abandoned all over the news the next day. You watch as he hurriedly leaves. It's become a habit for you both, hanging out, a random phone call, watching him as he rushes to leave as if he wasn't just shoulder to shoulder with you. Your heart aches, swelling with feelings that you're not sure you want to think about just yet. He's not yours, and you're not his. So why does it matter so much?
Your eyes snap open as you sit up in your dorm bed. Red flashing numbers on your bedside clock let you know that it's early, like 3AM early. Stretching, you throw your legs over the edge of the bed and stand, floorboards cold against your skin, sending a shiver right through your spine.
You pause, listening intently. It's not that you're clueless, you know it's the glass of your window that's making that sound, but who would be tapping the window of your second floor dorm so urgently at this time of day? Slowly, you creep over to your window; the tapping from the glass a parallel to your tentative steps on the hardwood floor. A click unlocks the window, and you quickly shove it open. Peering out into the darkness of the night, you find nothing out of the ordinary; the fire exit rusted and unused. Hesitantly, you shut your window, but a hand stops you. Hobie's slim stature climbs into your room.
"What the fuck!? Hobie...?" He drops to the floor, clutching his side, hands bloody and trembling, most likely from the adrenaline and the climb up the fire escape. You rush over to him, the old wood of the floor creaking under your hurried movements.
"Sorry ta wake you from your slumber, luv. I... didn't know where ta go." His voice is wavy, reminiscent of the first time he talked to you. If it were still that fateful day, you would've thought nothing of it, but after months of silent yearning, you know better than anyone now.
"Just stay there. Please." A sigh wracks your body as your mind swirls with fearful thoughts. Why is he even beaten up so badly? Why did he come to me? How's he not scared? Grabbing a first aid kit from the bathroom, you get to work patching him up. Treading back over to him, you slot yourself between his legs. A compromising position, truly, but you don't have half a brain to care.
"Can I see the wound?" Shaky hands lift the edge of his shirt, now stained with crimson blood, to reveal the gaping scratch on his abdomen. It looks terrible, there's no way to sugarcoat it, and you could spiral about all the ways he could've possibly got such a gash like this, but something tells you he doesn't have the time. You dampen a tissue with rubbing alcohol and apply pressure to the wound, white paper instantly staining red. Hobie hisses, hands coming up to grasp your left one while your right works on getting him better. After some time, the blood begins to slow, and the wound looks significantly less agitated. You finally inhale, unaware that you were even holding your breath.
"You want me to wrap it?" you ask, but he doesn't respond, not immediately. Dazed eyes longingly stare into yours; he doesn't even seem like he's all there. It's weird, seeing the once composed Hobie fade away like it was all a facade. Rhythmically, his chest rises and falls, heartbeat finally slowing to a normal pace. He raises your hand to his chest, tightly lacing your fingers together and allowing you to feel his heart.
"Hobie." He blinks, looking not at your eyes but at your lips before slowly exhaling.
"Don't scare me like that again. Ever." He laughs, it's airy, like he really thought you were joking. He nods all the less.
"I promise." You're sure he wanted to make a joke or fake a salute, but you can see it in his eyes, the exhaustion.
With his back pressed against the wall, you make quick work of wrapping his abdomen with gauze, being careful not to stare too long or let your hands excessively graze his abs. Although it's starting to seem like he wouldn't mind all that much. A good amount of time has passed; the digital numbers on the clock now read 5AM. Whatever fitful sleep you were going to get evidently postponed till after school starts at 7. Would he even be there tomorrow after this? Hobie's up once more, getting ready to leave your sight once more as if nothing happened.
"Listen. Just... if anything like this happens again, I don't care what time it is or where you are. Message me, please." Pressing your palm to his, you hand him a slip of paper with your number messily scribbled on it.
"Please," you exasperate one more time. But he doesn't respond; he just nods and leaves the same way he entered. Wind blows your curtains haphazardly, and it's still too dark to make out where he went, yet you stare out the window, searching for him like it's your sole purpose. Your back presses against the wall once the adrenaline in your body wears off. Sitting on the floor, gazing up at the popcorn ceiling, your phone buzzes, clearing whatever brain fog you were having. Ah, it's Yaz, of course it is.
Pool Party @ mine while my parents r gone
Yes, HE will b there
c u there!
Thank you so much 4 reading and hopefully I'll c u in the next chap!
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━➢ solariasplanet2026 ✯
