HAPPY THREE YEAR ANNIVERSARY, POOKIE 🥺 (why did i make it sound like it’s our anniversary, lmaooooo—)
For my first req, may I have something new with Zookeeper!Hobie x Vet!R? 🌝 perhaps of the popular Hobie struggling to flirt with R when they’re alone because R is focused on checking up a baby cub of some kind 🤭
Bonus point if Hobie is a secret loser 🌝😩
-😅
What do you mean it's not our anniversary?! Why did i buy these flowers and chocolates then?!! You know how much i love this au 😉
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem reader
Word count: 2.2k
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, veterinarian! Reader, Zookeeper! Hobie, established relationship, cw food mentions, talks of having kids, fluff!
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3rd year anniversary celebration
You always go out on break at the same time every day, three pm on the dot. You’re so predictable and consistent that your boss, Miguel, already knows what you’re about to ask before you even said it while he’s elbow deep in operating on a sedated baby giraffe.
Lyla spares you a knowing look, a cheeky smile hidden behind her surgical mask as her eyes crinkles. “Say hi to loverboy for us.”
Miguel sighs, and continues on with the operation. “Just be here on time, we have a lion cub coming for a check-up.”
“Got it,” you say, muffled by the glass door as you leave the vet clinic of the zoo. You would’ve replied a clever retort to Lyla but she couldn't be more right when the only reason you take your break at the same time everyday is to see him.
Hobie smiles on stage, he has a mic strapped to him, and the zookeeper uniform that is all khaki, and knee length shorts to show off his calves. He told you numerous times that he hates the bloody thing, how the khaki just washes him out and makes him look like an utter nerd. Well he is a nerd which you told him already and he always just flashes you his million watt smile that makes your knees weak. He hates the uniform so much to the point that he proposed a new uniform to the big bosses, they said that they’ll think about it, it’s been two years and they’re still thinking about it. Truth be told, you liked his design for the new uniform, but he makes those khaki shorts look fucking good. Even the teachers think so too as they whisper amongst themselves at the back of the theater whilst their students watch the show eagerly.
This is where you go everyday to watch the same show, to watch the same zookeeper tell the same joke over and over again to different audiences. And yet you haven’t grown tired of it yet, even when you have memorized the whole show, and would mouth his jokes together with him. Sometimes Hobie mixes it up, he tells his own jokes, does a new trick with Penelope the parrot or Lawrence the lizard and the crowd would eat it up. You would eat it up, especially when Hobie’s eyes immediately search for you within the crowd to see your reaction.
You sit at the far back with your packed sandwich, watching as he walks around Colin the crocodile, teaching the kids all about the wild animal. It’s the crocodile show for today, this is the show you never want to miss, not because you’re a big fan of Colin, but you’re deathly afraid that something will go wrong and that Hobie will end up with one less finger, or worse. You might be an animal doctor, but you still took pre-med meant for humans. So if, knock on wood, something does go wrong, then you’re ready to jump in and help Hobie.
You’ll never tell him that though, you can already see the smug look on his face if you confess that to him. And you’ll never hear the end of it, always teasing you with that smirk, with those piercings that always have the women and men in the crowd swooning, including you, and with those shining mismatched eyes of his. One green, as green as the algae you studied during college, one russet that reminds you of warm coffee during a chilly morning. You’re crushing on him hard, you were in denial in the first few years though, but Hobie has managed to wiggle his way into your stoic heart.
Hobie’s quite popular in the zoo, that whenever a school would organize a field trip, they would always ask for him as their guide. Even the people working the zoo’s socials have taken a liking to him that most of the content has him in it. The people have dubbed him the punk zookeeper, which Hobie laughed at, but you have found him more than once scrolling through the comment section that sings his praise. For someone who has said that he doesn’t care what people think of him, he likes to see those same people smile at the work he’s doing. Because that means he’s making a difference, that means he’s doing great work at his dream job.
You find yourself smiling in his presence as time went on. Sometimes you’d eat with him when he doesn’t have a show, or simply take a walk with him during his patrols around the zoo. You found something more to love about your job because of him.
“Remember,” Hobie’s voice echoes from the sound system as the kids are on the edge of their seats, gawking at how close he is to the crocodile. “They can run on land. So if you see one sunbathin’ don’t get too close, yeah?”
“Yeah!” The children agree in a chorus.
“Right,” Hobie spots you sitting amidst the crowd, and you show him the bag of crisps, shaking it for him with a smile. His beaming grin warms your insides. “That’s the end of our show, thank you for listenin’! Say bye, Colin!” He gently takes the crocodile’s tiny arm, making him wave at the crowd as the other zookeepers around him take a bow. The kids giggle, and Hobie flashes you a quick wink before ushering Colin away and back to his enclosure with a whole chicken.
Once he’s done and the children have moved onto a different show, you stifle a grin as he treks up the steps on the amphitheater over to you. His toned long legs make quick work of the steps, and the sun is doing him a favour as it shines right on his skin, showing off the hidden muscles.
“Where are my crisps, love?” Sitting down beside you, he takes your iced tea and takes a sip as if he bought it.
“Here.” You toss it at him, landing directly at his chest. “Ew, you have cooties.” Snatching the drink away, he grins, mouth closed, full of iced tea. “Great show by the way, would’ve been better if you put your hand closer inside his mouth.”
“Colin was in a good mood.” Opening the crisps, he gives it a good shake before taking one and offering the rest to you. “You really want to see my hand get bitten off by a croc, huh?”
Tilting your head, you gaze at him flatly. “More than anything in the world.”
“I’ll have you sew it back on me, doctor Frankenstein.” He answers with a smirk, chomping loudly at his snack just to annoy you.
“Oh, how sweet, calling me after a deranged psychopathic doctor.”
“But you’re my deranged psychopathic doctor.” He’s leaning close, too close at your face that you could see yourself in his mismatched eyes, and smell his familiar cologne that he probably freshly sprayed on himself for you.
“You think you’re so cute.”
“Nah, you think ‘m cute.”
“No, I don’t. Gaslighting is a crime now, y’know.”
His brows scrunches, and he chuckles, eyes glancing down at your lips before retreating away. “Since when?”
“Since your mama told you she loved you.”
“Fuckin’ hell, love,” his laughter echoes around the empty amphitheater. Nose scrunched, eyes crinkled in the corners as he laughs with his whole chest, the kind of laugh that makes you smile, absolutely endeared. You love making him laugh. “‘m happy to tell you that my mum loves me very much. Just like how your mum loves me, she told me last night.”
“Oh, fuck off!” Your walls fall as you laugh, giggles bouncing around the venue as you cover your mouth with your palm. “You cheeky shit.”
“Your cheeky shit.” He takes another crisp and pops it into his mouth whilst you hide your flustering self behind your half eaten sandwich. “So, what have you been up to in the clinic?” His mouth has gone dry from the crisps, or probably because he’s talking to you and that tends to happen to him whenever you’re in his presence, same goes for his sweaty palms and thudding heart.
You hand him the bottle of iced tea, and he gladly accepts, staring at you for a second before taking it. “We’re finally fixing Gerald’s wonky leg.”
“Finally got the funds, hm?” He takes a big gulp before handing the drink back to you.
“Yep, thanks to your fans.” You then take a sip from the same bottle, and Hobie’s brain short circuits. “Their donation meant a lot, titanium isn’t cheap.” When you notice him staring at you like an owl, you nudge his shoulder. “You good, zookeeper?”
Hobie blinks, clears his throat and wipes his drenched palms on his khakis. A mistake when it leaves an obvious palm print. He hates khaki so fucking much. “Yeah, doc.”
Lips smacking together, tasting him on your lips, you look at him with a small yet sweet smile. “You wanna meet someone special?”
—
Hobie watches you cradle the lion cub in your arms as you gently sway, bottle feeding the cub milk. Something in him breaks, unlocking something else.
“The guys at animal control found him in some rich asshole’s house.” You keep your voice low, while the cub’s eyes slowly close. “They said that he was keeping him as a pet and that the house was basically a biohazard.”
“That’s fuck–ed up.” Hobie’s voice peaks in the middle, like some prepubescent boy speaking to his crush. Clearing his throat, he sees you smirk at him in his peripheral vision. “That’s fucked up, love.” He manages to say without his voice crackling.
“Yep, the guy is in jail now and this little guy is safe.” Your eyes sparkles as you look at the lion cub. “Aren’t you, baby? You’re being such a good boy.” The lion swishes his tail happily.
His stomach warms up from your cooing and soft words. “Thanks, love, I have been doin’ a bangin’ job lately.”
Chuckling, you shake your head at him, eyes glimmering under the fluorescent lights of the zoo clinic. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Now my day is ruined.” Taking a step closer, he peeks at the bundle in your arms. The cub is the second cutest thing he has ever seen, the first being you when you were covered in fur after shaving a grizzly bear for surgery. Thank goodness he took a picture of you like that, it’s your caller ID picture on his phone. “I think I want kids.” He blurts out a half joke, half genuine confession if the said kid is with you.
He expected for you to roll your eyes at him, or even laugh. But he didn’t expect the softened look on your pretty face as you turned to gaze at him with the same tenderness.
“Yeah? I think me too, if I ever find the right person. And when I’m financially able.” He’s so close to you that you could just reach out to his cheek and let your touch linger there and feel his scruff like you always wanted to do.
Hobie wants to be the right person. But he has to start now, no more dancing around with you, having a good banter when he has utterly fallen in love with you ever since you yelled at his boss for holding a baby panda wrong.
“D’you…” his lips purses together, leaning away and grabbing the nearest thing to him to keep his shaking hands occupied— a thermometer. “D’you want to go out with me sometime? Out of the zoo, maybe dinner at that Italian place you said you wanted to go to.”
“You remember me saying that?” Your eyes widen a smidge, before a genuine smile replaces the shock on your face.
“Yeah,” his fingers dance along the length of the thermometer mindlessly. “It’s you, lovie. I remember everythin’ you say.”
You place the sleeping cub back on the bassinet he came in, with barely contained giddiness as you turn back to face him. “He needs a name.”
Hobie’s face is indescribable as he tries to save himself from sheer embarrassment and longing. “M–maybe Terrence—”
Plucking the thermometer from his hands, you then grab wet wipes and gently clean his palms. You swear he shivered under your touch. “That thermometer has been in a very dark and warm place, Hobie.”
“Shit—”
“Yep, same place where that came from. Don’t worry, that’s why I’m here.” Grinning up at him sweetly, one that he rarely saw, the smile he has seen once when he made a crude joke about the elephants. He doesn’t even remember the joke, but he did remember your smile. “How about we think of a name for the cub during dinner?”
Hobie could burst into glittering hearts, but you wouldn’t appreciate getting glitter all over the clinic. “Yeah, yeah, sure, lovie.” He tries to act casual, as if he’s not dancing in his head.
“Great,” your beaming smile makes him almost faint right there and then. Your hand brushes along his own faintly, barely there, a feather touch that still leaves him with a giddy smile. “It’s a date then.”
