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nex-thegrimreaper · 9 months

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this is so good

CHANGE

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!VILLAIN!READER

GENRE: ENEMIES TO LOVERS, ANGST, MUTUAL PINING, COMFORT

WORD COUNT: 8K

WARNINGS: THEMES OF ABUSE! READER HAS AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP WITH THEIR PARENT THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING! GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF INJURIES. DOES NOT FOLLOW ATSV PLOT.

AUTHORS NOTE: PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO TOPICS LIKE ABUSE, FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED. I DID MY BEST TO LEAVE THE DESCRIPTION OF READERS GEAR VAUGE SO THAT YOU CAN IMAGINE WHATEVER YOU'D LIKE BUT READER AT BASELINE HAS FIRE ABILITIES + WINGS, AND A MASK THAT CAN SHOW EXPRESSIONS LIKE A SPIDER-PERSON CAN. HOBIES PERSONALITY IS HEAVILY INSPIRED OFF OF HIS COMICS!

SYNOPSIS: YOURE SUPPOSED TO HATE SPIDERPUNK, BUT…WHEN HES THE ONLY ONE WHO TREATS YOU KINDLY…AND THE ONLY ONE WHO HELPED YOU WHEN THE PERSON YOU SHOULD LOVE BETRAYS YOU, HOW COULD YOU?

There was the sound of the city below, and the rushing of wind above, but there was nothing in between. You felt nothing; just coming to and completely delirious. Your head spun as you looked down on London, watching droplets of blood fall from…your body? Were you bleeding? You suddenly became aware of the familiar deep mumbling above your head and the secure arms that held you tightly. You looked down at the red suit and black leather worn by who held you and pieced it all together, albeit slowly; you were in your rival’s arms, bleeding out as he was web slinging through the sky. You groaned, growing privy of injures that you didn't know you had, immediately feeling Hobie’s arms tighten,

“It's okay, you're gonna be okay.” You heard his deep voice faintly, sounding panicked and far away. You squirmed, wincing and crying out,

You couldn't feel your wings.

–

Spiderman, Spiderpunk, asshole–whatever you wanted to call him—he was a royal pain in your ass. He’d cocoon you inside indestructible webs when he caught your gang in a crime, beeline to you when he was fighting off the group, and web you down whenever he’d catch you lurking on the rooftops at night, leaving the scene slinging away with a sly or flirty remark. At first, you just assumed that he must have sensed weakness in you–not taking you seriously and toying with you for kicks…it could have been true and honestly probably was, but you were ready for a change. You had changed significantly since you and Spiderman first met. He didn’t see you for a very long time while you worked out and trained, touching up your fighting skills, reaction time, and stamina–never slacking off. It didn't take long for you to surpass your once superiors, becoming your Master’s most prized possession.

Your Master was all you knew for a guardian figure. They called you their ‘Firefly,’ as you had phoenix-like wings and fire based abilities that they were oh so proud of. What you didn’t know, was that they formed your supernatural self, nurturing you in their lab after destroying your genetic makeup until you were ready to be their perfect prodigy, yet they didn't want you taking on their largest mission–killing Spiderman. They told you that they knew about the way he targeted you and took you down with minimal effort and they hated it–not wanting to see you caught in a life-or-death fight with him.

“He may have never hurt you, but if he wants to, he will.” They would say. You never knew that it was all lies, only hating the idea of your Master looking down on you.

So you would become Spiderman’s biggest threat–telling yourself it was not to prove a point to them, but to you.

–

You were ready for this city to finally start taking you seriously; buildings emptying at the glow of your fiery wings, blinds closing and light flicking off at the sound of your crackling fire, streets clearing with screams of “Spiderpunk!” and “Help!” You believed today was the day.

The people of London already knew the sight of you meant trouble—often the most eye-catching of your master’s entourage even though you weren’t the most dangerous, but you were rarely seen alone. It was alarming to the citizens who quickly emptied the dark streets. You felt a sense of confidence surge in your chest at the fear in their eyes just from you simply walking, lighting up the streets with a red-orange glow and wildfire-like crackling sounds. You didn’t get very far though, a faint booming guitar chord piercing the air nearby like a firework. You grit the soles of your gear into the ground, securing your mask and looking up to catch Spiderpunk swinging off a tall building, legs spread and hand outstretched in your direction,

“Ay, what do you know?! If it isn't the Firefly all by herself! What do you think you're doing out here, lil phoenix?” His voice quickly gained volume as he swung full speed ahead in your direction, aiming to effortlessly web you up and leave the scene when he neared and took a powerful blow directly to the chin, flying into the wall like a magnet to metal.

He groaned, fallen on the floor and back slammed into the brick wall, “Damn! Where did you learn how to throw a punch like that? Did’ja friends finally decide to teach you the basics?” With squinty spider-suit eyes, he rubbed his jaw, comically ‘fixing’ it back into place before lunging like a jumping spider and tackling you with his arms around your waist. Your back hit the ground with a thud and you quickly kicked your feet up on his stomach and flipped the two of you backwards with your hands on his leather vest. You throw punches and hits with calculated precision and instead of being scared…Spiderpunk is pleasantly surprised at your newfound strength. He finds himself totally up for the challenge of fighting someone ‘worth his time.’ He web slings out from under you, jumping behind a nearby bench to put some distance between the two of you and attempt to apprehend you,

“Come on Spiderpunk, throw a punch! What are you, scared? Didn’t think you’d have to even try to beat me huh? Is that it, asshole?” You yell in frustration, hand clutching the back of the bench and clearing it like a track meet. He backpedals, never once getting violent with you–no hitting, punching or kicking, just strategically tiring you out until he can find an opening and restrain you.

“Come on now, you know this is just anotha cakewalk for your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.” He laughs in a sarcastic teasing way to rile you up, ducking to avoid your advances when you unexpectedly lunge at him, your masked heads knocking against each other and sending him falling over into a messy alley. Spiderpunk struggles against you before you slam your fist across his cheek, sending his head left before he cranes it back, grabs your ready fist, and then the other one when you raise it. You're both grunting and panting, his eyes squinty and your arms shaking like an arm wrestle when, eventually, he overpowers you and pushes you off him, wrapping you up like a spider to its prey and having the temerity to dust his hands off after,

“Well, I oughta say, tonight was full of more surprises than I would've ever guessed! Didn’t know you had all that fight in you, Firefly.” He said, casually leaning against the wall across from you with his foot up, wiping his wrist over his masked forehead and feigning exhaustion. Your face scrunched up in anger at the name, reserved for only your Master.

“Don't call me that! I don't need you underestimating me, Spiderpunk, and I don't need your pity–actually fight me next time!” You spit, “I’ll be back for you.” Your ablaze wings tear through the web restrains and you fly away, knowing he’ll let you go. He watched you leave into the night sky, cursing to himself at the throbbing pain in his jaw. He slumped off the wall, web slinging home with a sense of sympathy weighing heavy in his heart,

“Poor thing–all fucked in the head.”

–

Your Master has a long standing history with Spiderpunk. They were once a cop—devoted to their work and truly confident that they were doing the right thing. Then one day, this ‘Spiderman’ came along. He ruined everything; encouraging anarchy, winning the people's hearts and turning the citizens against the officers–but worst of all, he killed their brother who was also in the police force. Nothing was the same since, and they turned to a life of crime, building a force of people who wanted to do anything in their power to stop Spiderman.

Spiderpunk had directly attacked their old headquarters before, growing more and more familiar with their motives, their methods, and more importantly, their members. There was a new lair now, sneakily hidden from Spiderpunk to keep him from learning more than he already knew.

What he did know was your Master was like a parent in your eyes. He knew you were unable to label anyone else as a guardian in your broken life, but damn it was sick to him. Your Master literally made you address them as such to enforce harsh power dynamics and keep you in your place. They mutilated your genetic code like a lab rat, but you can't remember a thing because you were completely comatose. They wanted to train you until you were strong enough to fight for them, and then do nothing to prevent your death when the foreign chemicals in your body would eventually catch up to you. Worst of all, they don't want you around Spiderpunk because he knows the truth. They do everything in their power to keep you faithful to them because they know you'll be too strong on Spiderman’s side–you'll turn to him without sparing them a second glance if you knew the truth.

They couldn't let that happen. They wouldn't let that happen. They swore it to themselves everyday.

–

You came quietly through the doors of the lair (which was disguised as just another house in a crowded street) keeping all noise to an absolute minimum to avoid the ‘where were you’ questions from your comrades. You were new to sneaking out, never seeing a point in it before this self-improvement journey of yours. You were lost in thought, walking to your room when a loud slam jumped you. You cursed and looked up to see none other than your Master standing in front of you, staring at you with an intensity that never meant any good, rendering the hallway placate. You looked up at them, fear taking over your bones.

“…Where have you been for the past hour?” Their dour tone sliced through the thick silence. You held eye contact like you've been told,

“I went out to train.” You answered, not the full truth but not a lie either. You looked up at them with a cold-sweat inducing anticipation rattling your knees. The silence was so loud, and your heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

You didn't even register that you had been slapped until you noticed you were no longer looking your Master in the eyes. Your face felt warm, stinging with pain as your eyes welled with tears that you fought back. They said nothing more, leaving you to stand stunned in the hallway for a long moment and then trudge into your room to fall asleep feeling numb.

–

You knew you must have done something to deserve the punishment of getting slapped and grounded, but you also felt that your Master just didn't understand what you were doing— that you were doing it for them. You were going to help them take down Spiderpunk! You were going to do what they had always wanted! After thinking for a long hour in your room, you decided you just needed to be more sneaky. That way, they couldn't be mad at you in the end when you finally got their worst enemy in the lair, bound up and defenseless.

Nothing could stop you from training mercilessly for days, readying yourself to fight Spiderpunk again. You lived for the shocked expression on his spider-suit mask when you threw punch after punch at him, taunting him with an attitude that he had never seen from eager but stupid you–you who had failed to even get close enough to attack him in the past. He had wondered why he wasn't seeing you with the usual group for a couple months, almost worried that your Master had done something.

Time passed and the few times you saw Spidepunk, you were with a bigger group. You were no longer the first person he took down, rather the last—he struggled more and more fighting you these days. It had been days since your last 1V1 encounter and night fell—this time, you waited until you were absolutely positive that your Master was asleep before you left out your window, flying into the night with your blazing wings. You knew how Spiderpunk was going to fight you this time, playing a completely defensive game until he saw an opening to take you down, and you were prepared for it–ready to counteract it. You didn't want to leave this battle completely unscathed like last time, you wanted a fair fight.

–

Hobie sat on a distant rooftop, overlooking London in the darkness of the night. He had had a very ‘normal’ day in Spiderpunk terms—help a little old lady across the road, stop a handful of thief’s dumb enough to steal in broad daylight with his spidergang, and graffiti a couple political statements in places that no one else could reach. He chose a rooftop garden area to relax, chewing his bright pink bubblegum and strumming on his guitar with his heavy boots hanging over the ledge.

Hobie thought about you, he thought about Y/N L/N. It was difficult to fight someone who was so misguided, so fixated on a dream that would only hurt them more. He didn’t know what he could do to get to you—to get you comfortable enough with him to even believe a word of what he’s been dying to tell you. Hobie needed to save you from your Master and the twisted ideology they had drilled into every fiber of your being.

He knew no one else would understand why he cared the way he did. Hobie had a soft spot for you and your gang because he knew of the lives that you were all robbed of.

He strummed his sticker-covered guitar to the bridge of ‘Change (In the House of Flies),’ looking down at the bursts of color that his guitar cycled through in time with each chord he played.

There was a fleeting moment of tranquility, then his spidey-senses went wild, a fiery glow seen from behind him.

Hobie didn’t move—he didn’t even flinch—he just softly finished the song,

“I was beginning to think I wouldn’t be seein’ you again.” Hobie quipped, getting on his feet and slinging his guitar behind him, turning to face you.

You looked him over—his spiky accessories, his expressive messy spider-suit eyes, his guitar and all its color. You wondered what he could have done to become the center of all your Masters hate. You knew it had to have been pretty significant, even if you didn’t understand it.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Spiderman.” You said, voice muffled through your mask. Now it was Hobie’s turn to take you all in. You had definitely made some augmentations to your gear since he last saw you, he could see how touched up it looked and he started to worry you might catch him off guard this time, so he tested the waters. He circled you slowly and instantly you tensed and out came exactly what he feared—new weaponry.

Fiery blades ignited out of your wrist gear as you put your hands up in a block. Hobie was actually impressed,

“Well would ya look at that! A shiny new weapon, eh? did ya make that all by yourself, lil phoenix?” He inquired, leaning in with typical comical Spiderman enthusiasm. He got too close for comfort, resulting in you swinging your burning blades at him with a grunt. Hobie lurched backwards, making a shocked noise,

“Alright alright, trying to show me what those new blades can do huh? Come on, come get me.” He teased, web-slinging away and starting a chase. Hobie was often chasing, not entirely used to the reverse, but he felt adrenaline pump through his veins at the sound of your yells, chasing him like a rabid animal through the rooftops of London.

This time, you knew well what he was doing—attempting to tire you out and get you at your weakest without even having to lay a finger on you, then restrain you like last time—so you came to the fight with a couple tricks up your sleeve.

You ducked down into an alleyway, seemingly headfirst, running down the wall and up the next.

Spiderpunk looked behind him, expecting to see your struggling form desperately trying to keep up with him, only for his heart to stop at the sight of you—or the lack thereof.

His reflexes came in handy when he saw a faint glow out of his peripherals. He swung from a high-hanging sign when you lunged at him from his side, giving him minimal time to react. He tried to web to another building, but he was too slow. Your fingers closed around his neck, slamming him into the wall, his long fingers instinctively came up to your wrists, only to falter away when he nearly slices his hands clean off on your blades. He instead opts to use his boots to try and kick you away, but blades instantly ignite out of the gear surrounding your ankles,

“You really came prepared huh? Whipped up all this new gear in a matter of days just to see me? You’re so thoughtful.” He grit out, still trying to not harm you if he doesn’t have to. He was in the middle of calculating your next move when you brought your head back like you were going to knock him out with it. Instantly, Hobie ducks down, thrusting his spiky spider-suit mask at your chest and pushing away from you when you flinch and let go of him.

“Spiderpunk!” You screamed, jumping up and lunging at him, sending artificial webs his way. He rolled and dodged them, yelping in surprise,

“Look at you! I mean, you’re basically a spider woman now!” He shoots his own webs, snagging your ankle and effectively stumping you, if only for a moment when your heated blades sear them off. You angrily throw yourself at him again, falling to the ground when he dodges. Suddenly, a loud crack is heard as your left ankle gear slams against the solid rooftop, buzzing and crackling as it breaks. You hiss and grunt angrily, and Hobie’s brain lights up. He has to break all your new toys to take you down, that’s all.

Spiderpunk suddenly jumps at you, tackling you onto your back to keep your wings useless and webbing your biceps down, then your thighs—they’re the spots where you have no defense mechanisms, although you’re a lot stronger than he’s used to seeing you so he remains cautious. He grabs hold of your ankle, pressing his palms into the gear and sending electric volts through it—he risks the chance of hurting you, but when he begins to fry the electrical cords and sees only confusion in your eyes, he continues. The gear fizzes and smokes as it breaks, but Hobie feels the shock of it all, wincing and grunting as he get electrocuted.

Your eyes widen as you realize what he’s doing, and you scream,

“No! No!” You strain against his webs, freeing one arm and swinging your fist at the man, slicing the cheek of his mask only for him to grab your bicep and pin you back down with a struggle, electrocuting himself once more as he kills your right wrists gear with a zap!

You look up at him, paralyzed with confusion as he still refuses to hurt you, only breaking your gear so you’ll run back home again. You won’t take it, breaking free your left fist the very next second and screaming in anger when he pins it down with all the strength he can muster.

"Why are you doing this? Why won't you ever fight me?" You scream emotionally, struggling against him as he uses all the strength he has left to fry your last piece of protective gear while you struggle against him, kicking and pushing to no use. He doesn't speak at first, breathing heavily, and sighing,

“You really wanna know?” He mumbles, looking at you through his mask with squinty eyes, “Or do you just want an answer that will make you happy?” He asks, leaning back and getting off of you completely, but keeping you restrained on the ground.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask, genuinely caught off guard, letting out a scoff, “Dont pull some weird mysterious bullshit with me-”

“I’m serious.” He cuts you off. It doesn't sound harsh or angry, it’s strangely genuine. “The truth hurts–worse than anything I could do to you if I fought back the way you so badly want.” He says through his thick accent, sitting beside you and looking out at the city.

You looked up, knocking your masked head on the hard surface while you thought in angry silence. What could Spiderpunk have to tell you? Why did he think it would matter to you? You hadn't really guessed there was a good reason for why he didn't fight you, just assuming he pitied you. You let your head loll to the side and looked at the spikey masked man with dark skin peeking through the cut you left in his mask, your curiosity winning,

“I…I’m all ears.” You mumble, your voice hoarse.

He just looked at you for a moment, then he cursed and ran his large palm down his covered face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't know what to say or how to say it. How do you tell someone their whole life is a lie? Furthermore, they're fighting for a cause that will end in their demise? He gazed off into the sparkling lights below,

“It’s not easy to say so i’m just gonna tell you as bluntly as possible. I’ve known that lousy sod you call ‘Master’ for years now…they’re not at all who you think they are.” He starts, missing the way your body stiffens, “And…neither are you. They actually…made you what you are. You weren't supposed to have the abilities you have but they-”

“No, no I'm not listening to this, this is useless! You're full of shit!” You spat, arching your back enough to set your wings free, cutting through the webs, triggering him to jump up and put his palms out defensively,

“Hey, hey! You said you were all ears right? Don't go throwin’ a wobbly on me now! Just listen okay? I’m trying to save your life!” He frantically begged, walking towards you slowly with bent knees and a tilt of his head, trying his absolute hardest to not come across as a threat. You weren’t having it.

You got close, “You can go to hell with your weird conspiracies about my Master and I! I-I’ll never believe you—you don’t even know me!” You yelled your fists up defensively. You felt weak and angry with your gear useless, and you didn’t exactly expect a deep discussion about your life and what it might or might not be,

“I do though, Y/N. That’s…that’s what I’m trying to get at here.” He states, not once taking his eyes off you. He watches as your eyes flicker wide open, your guard faltering for only a moment. You stand there stunned, the silence of midnight surrounding both of you, until you finally have the courage to speak up,

“Is…that how you know my name?” You state the obvious. You know the answer, but you want him to be the one to say it.

“Yes, because what i’m telling you is the truth. Your Master, they used to be an officer until I came around and fought against the police force…one day, there was an attack from a villain force and I couldn’t save their closest friend…but from what they saw, it looked as though their blood was on my hands. They changed overnight—quitting the force and becoming the worst villain overlord of this city. They built their own empire, and they bought you. You and the rest of their army, you’re all captives who were brainwashed and robbed of your lives.” He finishes, full of anticipation as he looks at you.

There’s a long silence, as you take it all in. You don’t know what to say to do for a while, internally struggling on if you even believe his words or not…but the longer you think about it…you’re sad to admit the more sense it starts to make.

You don’t remember having any sort of childhood, no matter how hard you thought, and you’ve only ever known your Master and their orders on how you should live your life. You were lost in thought, puzzle pieces slowly fitting together, and Spiderpunk just watched you patiently. You thought about how he looked at you, how he refused to hurt you, and how he seemed to genuinely mean every word he said…It was too much to take in all at once.

“I’m sorry, I-I can’t.” You stammer out, your voice cracking as you back up. Your wings crackle with burning fire. He doesn’t follow you, just stands still as you walk backwards, then turn and fly off. The wind whistles as you fly home faster than you ever have in your life, your thoughts racing a mile a minute with every flap of your wings. Hobie watches you fly off into the sparkly night sky like a burning shooting star, sighing in relief.

—

That night opened your eyes, and nothing was the same between you and your Master since. You pulled back and unintentionally started acting cold, now you were afraid they were noticing. They had been randomly gifting you things or spending time with you, a lot more than they ever do. You were starting to feel incredibly uncomfortable and anxious as the days went on, and strangely, you decided you wanted to clear some things up with Spiderpunk—you just needed to find a way to sneak out without your Master noticing with all their excessive hovering over you these days.

It was dawn, and you had just finished the dinner that they insisted you have with them. Your Master had finished eating and was now cleaning both your dishes when you quietly headed to the door and slipped on your jacket,

“Going somewhere?” They asked questioningly, not turning from their spot at the sink but still instilling nausea in you from their tone alone. You hesitated for a second, then slipped on your shoes,

“Just going on a walk.”

“Right after eating? Shouldn’t you give it an hour or two?” They pressured.

“I’d rather walk while it’s still relatively light out, I won’t be gone long.” You countered carefully, trying to keep the peace the best you could. You reached for the door handle, your back turned to them when you heard the water shut off, footsteps, and then felt their arms around you, turning you into their embrace. It was uncomfortably silent, and their hands suddenly tightening on your jacket felt horrible,

“I know you’ve been lying to me.” They murmured, their grip strong as they feel your body go rigid for a moment. You stall. They release you and stare coldy,

“I-I don’t know what you’re-“ The hardest slap you’ve ever felt lands across your face and cuts you off. It burns like hell and leaves your head blank for a moment. You look down only to get your eyes forced upwards from a pressuring grip on your jaw,

“You know you can’t keep secrets from me…I will figure out what you’ve been doing, my Firefly, and you won’t like it.” They grumbled, pushing you outside and slamming the door.

—

There had to be at least five cops chasing after as you careened around the block, all having yelled at you when you raced out of a small jewelry store with hands full of anything shiny and expensive looking that you could loop around your fingers. You zoomed down the dark street and caught a myriad of unfortunate obstacles ablaze in your wake. You were trying to cause as much of a scene as humanly possible—It was working.

You turned to look behind your shoulder right as Spiderpunk swung down towards you, one hand high above his head and the other swinging a web straight for your abdomen. When you were about to redirect your focus ahead of you, you’re left with no time to process your masked ‘rival’ headed straight for you before pulling you up into the sky with him. A scream tears out of your throat from shock and you can’t move as your body is pulled through the sky, golden rings and necklaces spilling from your fingers. The loud hollering of Spiderpunk is echoing around you before he pulls you onto a rooftop, both of you rolling onto the building. He grunts and pants, looking at you as he lays on his side, propped up on his elbow,

“How’s my favorite little villain doin huh? Long time no see…I was starting to miss your pretty mask.” He pulled you towards him by his webs like Scorpion, before tearing it when you were close enough, “Was there a reason you caused such a dilemma down there or did ya just miss me?” He smirks, pretending to run a hand through his hair. He was clearly in a good mood today.

You sigh, full of emotions and slightly bothered by his over-the-top entrance and flirty behavior, “There’s a reason, asshole…I need to talk to you.” You confess, sitting up in a comfortable position while he mirrors you, leaning his head in his hands. He stays silent and only nods, allowing you to continue,

“I thought about what you said—all of it. Things weren’t the same when I woke up that next morning. I still don’t trust you but I don’t really hate you the way I used to…because of what you said I sorta started to think for myself. I came to see you today to ask you a couple of questions and maybe get some answers?” You whispered, voice soft as you looked into his masked face. The moonlit night was cold and dark. It left you shivering with a sense of anxiety squeezing at your lungs. He nodded once more, leaning in,

“What can your friendly neighborhood spiderman do for you?” He asked with an audible smiled, trying to ease your obvious distress.

“Who was I?” You blurted out.

He shuddered, expecting the question but still feeling underprepared for it. He exhaled through a buzz of his lips and clicked his tongue a couple of times,

“That’s a difficult question, doll. To put it simply, you’re a normal girl who was supposed to live a normal life with her normal parents—they were some of the many that were killed by the multiple heinous villains that terrorized London a few years ago. You weren’t too much younger than me when you were forced into a hostage situation by the killers, soon after you were sold. I couldn’t save you all before the brainwashing, and I couldn’t get to you like this until…now.” He admitted. He felt sympathy knowing that you were sitting in front of him, probably feeling as though you were suffering the consequences of his incompetence—but the thought never crossed your mind. You just wished you knew that girl, the one who was robbed of her normal life, but you felt that moping was useless,

“Well, what can I do? I mean i’ve basically learned that my whole life isn’t at all what I think it has been and i’ve been chasing after the one person who was kind enough to tell me the truth-“

“You didn’t know any better.” He corrected, “I tried to go easy on you…couldn’t bring myself to fight such a sweet, misguided, girl.” He admitted genuinely.

“I am so stunned…I mean I never thought you’d be able to be this close or say these things to me without attacking you.” You teased, looking at the way his eyes scrunch up and his knees come close in a laugh, “I…I don’t know how to thank you. All I’ve done has been attacking you every chance I got because my Master painted you out to be some threat. I never thought for myself until you told me the truth, and now you’re being so nice to me, Spiderpunk.” You sighed.

Suddenly, he shifted before reaching his hands up to his neck and pulling his mask off, revealing his identity to you. The newly unmasked Spiderpunk shook his hair slightly, and looked at your still masked face as you took in every detail of him. He had deep brown skin, messy wicks, plump lips, a big nose with a ring on the side, deep set eyes complimented with pierced eyebrows and high cheekbones. He had the face of a model and it was no surprise that that effected your ability to breathe for a moment,

“You can call me Hobie.” He said with a cheeky tone at your silence, leaning back, “And you don’t have to thank me, just glad I could help.” He answered. He looked at you solemnly, his heart warming at the idea of helping you. “But you can at least make us equal and share a taste of your secret identity.” He winks, leaning in eagerly.

You roll your eyes and trail your hands up to your own mask, removing it and watching as his eyes scan you in the low lighting, taking in your appearance. You expected something different than what you got, your stomach dropping at the sudden look of shock on his face. You felt anxiety well up in a matter of seconds before he speaks,

“Who did this?” His deep voice lingers in the air and you’re left with no time to process his words, his hands that were reaching for you stuttering when you flinch, “Y/N, who hurt you?” He asks you, stern but gentle, looking into your eyes with his large hands gently on either side of your head to examine the red blistering slap mark. You can’t even respond, your mouth open but no words coming out. You both know the answer.

Hobie knew there was a possibility your Master was hurting you, but this just confirmed it and left him feeling inexplicably enraged.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Why are you apologizing? You have no reason to be sorry, If I had known I…I would have stopped this a lot sooner.” He whispered, gaze soft as he instinctively holds your head to his chest, almost motherly.

You just try to focus on stabilizing your breathing, the comforting hold new and strange to you. You never would have expected this, that’s for sure.

Time goes by, Hobie allowing you to sit in front of him again while you eventually talk about your relationship with your Master. It’s difficult, and Hobie has to thank his lucky stars for his ability to remain expressionless, because if not, he probably would have cried or thrown up several times. It becomes emotional for you as you wrap up, Hobie feeling his gut twist at the sight,

“It’s alright. I-I’m not going to let you be in that place much longer. I’m going to stop them okay? I’ll be helping you out of there soon.” He spoke clearly, his hands on your shoulders to keep steady eye contact. You felt uneasy at the idea of your Master and your unsteady relationship. You didn’t want to see them hurt but you knew that how they had treated you all these years was wrong, especially if what Hobie said was true. It was conflicting, and you were scared. You tried your hardest to trust Hobie, but you had only just opened up to him…so could you really? Was it safe?

“Okay…bye, Hobie’.” Was all you said before you parted, disappearing into the dark of the night. Hobie plotted, swinging far behind after a lot of careful thought and a ton of unusual hyperactivity from his spidey-senses.

—

The door creaked louder than it usually does—just your luck. You cursed as you held the handle all the way twisted until it was in the frame, manually twisting it back into place to keep the house silent. You were on a mission, and it couldn’t wait. You walked your way into the basement and into your Master’s secret laboratory. This was where they kept all of their ‘work stuff.’ You had never cared about anything in the dingy and dark room until now…you never knew any of it would pertain to you. You sifted though their stuff, everything seemingly kosher until a file, stuffed in the back of the lowest cabinet of their desk with the bold printed letters ‘Y/N L/N’ splattered over it in red ink called to you among all the other tan files. You wasted zero time in pulling it out and investigating. The file was full of information about you—things that you didn’t even know about yourself; the day you were bought, the chemical makeup of your fucked-up genes, and the day that you were…no…that couldn’t be right…the day that you were supposed to die? Your heart stopped. You read the date over and over again, adrenaline rushing through your body and pumping blood straight to your head. You couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see, couldn’t think. Your Master horrifyingly lingered in the doorway, watching as you trembled in unbridled terror. Why the fuck did you have a pre-determined death date? You tore your gaze off the paper, looking up and jumping when you saw, to you absolute dismay, your ‘Master.’

“Y/N. I’ve heard that you made a new friend! Is that right, my little Firefly?” Your master seethed through their sickening smile. You had never seen them this angry…it terrified you, but your adrenaline was stronger than your fear.

“I know who you are…and…I know who I am. You’re a sick person, and you’ve been lying to me my whole life!” You yelled, defensively staring them down with as fierce of a face as you could muster, “You destroyed the person that I’m supposed to be! You bought me out of a hostage situation to build your own suck army! Worst of all, you have a predetermined death date for me? What the fuck do I look like, perishable goods?” You scream.

“Quit acting dumb, child. If you were smart enough to understand maybe you wouldn’t be so angry at your loving Master. I did what I did to give you a life worth living. I made you who I made you at the cost of your life span shortening. Would you rather live a long, boring, and sad life with no parents and no purpose? Or would you rather life a fulfilling life with me?” They spat, anger present in their red eyes.

“I would rather die than live with you any longer. Spiderpunk told me the truth and I believed him because it makes sense! He was the first person to ever let me think for myself! He has never hurt me the way that you have!” Screaming, you threw the file onto the ground, the contents spilling out at your Master’s feet and your wings burning hot. Embers flicked across the room, catching small things on fire. Your Master had had enough.

“Is that so? And what exactly do you intend on doing with that information, hm? Run away from the loving,“ they flip the desk as it begins to burn, sending wood and fire all over as they come closer, “supportive,” they slam their fist into your side and kick your feet out from under you, “family that I’ve pioneered for you? You’d leave that all behind to follow a brain-dead, arachnid, anarchist who killed my loved ones?!” They scream, pulling you by your wrist out of the office and into the basement, shoving you down onto your stomach and crawling onto of you harshly. Your wings were as intense as your emotions—your horror, sadness, and anger all causing the flames to burn unusually hot and wildly—but your Master didn’t care. All they saw was red.

“You know what happens when you go against my rules, Y/N. How dare you do the one thing I specifically instructed you against.” They snapped, tears pooling out of your eyes as you struggled to breathe. Your eyes shot open as you heard their hisses in pain and felt their hands tighten around the base of your blazing wings. Your heart raced as fire embers flung around the room and you felt a sharp tugging, triggering you into screaming uncontrollably,

“No! No! Please, stop it! Master, I’m sorry! please d-don’t! What are you doing?! I’m-I’m sorry, please!” You screamed, feeling the extension of your body being torn out of your spine, uselessly screaming in agony. You were kicking and crying as you felt the most uncomfortable pain you had ever felt in your life. You were helpless, the room around you catching on fire as your powers go haywire. You didn’t know who to call, but the one name you knew started spilling from your lips,

“Hobie! Hobie please help me!” You cried, voice cracking and hoarse as the building rapidly started to burn. Your master brought their heel up digging it into your lower back as leverage as they grunted and pulled, fueled on your screams alone. You let out one last scream of Hobie’s name before it all faded to black.

—

Hobie had no idea where he should be looking for you, never having located your Master’s new hideout. He relied completely on his senses, a game of ‘hotter’ and ‘colder.’ He raced around like a madman, ignoring the excited screams of “It’s spiderpunk!” However, soon the screams became about a fire, and his senses were overwhelmed with a buzzing feeling. He snapped out of it and looked down to see a house on fire, mentally battling on if he should continue searching for you or deal with the house fire, opting for the latter. When he Hobie leapt down, he got a sinking feeling that he had found you.

He tore through the burning building, groups of familiar villains racing out of the doors and windows. He kept low and crawled like a spider when he heard a broken scream of his name, so pained and so desperate. He nearly tripped down the burning basement stairs and took in the horrific scenery.

Your blood was all over the floor, surrounding (what Hobie prayed was) your unconscious body. Your Master was panting, and holding your bloody, fleshy, wings. They had never looked this truly evil, staring down at you with no remorse until they noticed Hobie’s presence,

“Spiderpunk.” They stated, tossing your wings into the calmed with burning with rage,

“I think it’s time for our long overdue last dance, ‘Master.’” Hobie grumbled, circling them.

“I thought you’d never ask.” They smiled, chucking a knife from their belt at his head, watching as he expertly dodges it and maneuvers around the collapsing room combating with bloodshed heavy on his mind. There’s a symphony of punches and stabs, Hobie was growing bloody and angry. He was kicked into the fire his face whacking across a burning plank and causing him to cry out. Hobie shook his head and screamed, lunging at them,

“I’m gonna make you wish you never payed your hands on her.” Hobie grunted, his grip tightening around their throat as they desperately tried to pull him off. All Hobie could think about was what he could have done to save you all these years; if he had known the torture you were enduring at their hands he would have helped you sooner. He knew the whole time that it was doomed, but he didn’t know how to save you.

Hobie felt a crunch, and he snapped out of it, finding himself on top of your Masters now dead body. he pulled his hands back, wiping them off on his jeans and spitting down on the corpse of your abuser. Turning rapidly to scoop you into his arms and burst out of the burning building. The fire department was there, and ready to take care of it, but Hobie needed to get you as far away as possible.

—

There was the sound of the city below, and the rushing of wind above, but there was nothing in between. You felt nothing; just coming to and completely delirious. Your head spun as you looked down on London, watching droplets of blood fall from…your body? Were you bleeding? You suddenly became aware of the familiar deep mumbling above your head and the secure arms that held you tightly. You looked down at the red suit and black leather worn by who held you and pieced it all together, albeit slowly; you were in your rival’s arms, bleeding out as he was web slinging through the sky. You groaned, growing privy of the injures that you didn't know you had, immediately feeling Hobie’s arms tighten,

“It's okay, you're gonna be okay.” You heard his deep voice faintly, sounding panicked and far away. You squirmed, wincing and crying out,

You couldn't feel your wings—and it all came back to you. Your ‘Master’ had pulled them completely out of your body, and now you had never felt so light in your entire life. There were gaping holes in your back, and cuts that littered your skin from your struggle. You felt robbed, but oddly, you felt free. However, nothing could compare to, above all, how much pain you were in. You clung to Hobie, becoming aware that you’d have no way to support yourself if you were to fall, but Hobie held you tightly, telling you he would never drop you without saying a single word.

He landed somewhere unfamiliar, carrying you through a window with an odd amount of calculated grace. He set you down on what you assumed was his carpet, and you didn’t realize he was currently in front of you, helping you onto your stomach. You took his hand and allowed him to help you, gasping and whimpering when your entire body hurt.

“Easy, love, m’gonna take care of ya.” He whispers. He tears your shirt clean off, beginning to clean your wounds,

“Ah! Hobie!” You mumble, wincing.

“I know, I know, it’s gonna hurt love m’sorry.” He says in the most soothing voice he can.

He bandaged your cuts, and he feels his heart sink with every pained noise you make, watching you fiddle with his carpet to take your mind off of how it all feels. When he’s finished, he slips a clean shirt over you and he scoops you up—laying you down on his soft couch.

“Your wounds are deep love, but they’re not unsalvageable. Give it time and you’ll be feeling as good as new.” Hobie smiled softly. He was covered in blood, ash, and grime, but no one had ever looked as beautiful as he did in that moment. He pulled the blanket off the back of his couch, draping in over you and tucking it in gently,

“I am truly sorry for everything, doll.” He said suddenly with raw emotion taking over. You looked up at him confused,

“Don’t…don’t be sorry, Hobie. You…you saved my life.” You murmured, exhausted and pained.

He softly smiled at you, his eyes full of sadness as he forced himself to get up off his knees by your side,

“Well, i’ll be in the other room love, just holler if you-“

“Wait!” You interrupt. He stops abruptly, turning to look at you with confusion present on his face, scanning over you and taking note of the space you made in front of you on the couch,

“I don’t want to be alone.”

And with that, Hobie feels his heart break. Your voice sounded so fragile and meek, and he never wanted to hear it sound that way ever again. He would feel horrible holding you in his state, but he would feel worse if he said no to you. Reluctantly, he walks over to you, unties his shoes, and lays down with you, holding you close and gently running his hands up and down the bandages.

You didn’t understand how your whole life could change in a matter of days—going from hating Spiderpunk with every fiber of your being, to being genuinely afraid of him not being in the same room as you. But…he’s the one who saved you. This whole time, he was the only one who truly cared, and you felt so blind to have not seen it. He held you closer, lost deeply in his own thoughts. Hobie’s mind raced with thoughts of your safety, and specifically the death date in your files.

He decided he would worry about that another day, and for now, he would hold you closer.

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nex-thegrimreaper · 1 year

Note

These two make me feel AJCJHORNYMROWAPQ

Bucky is railing us, Dabi has just dropped out of nowhere (u know, the multiverse thing) belike (ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ⁠)???? "Where the fuck am I" (we are practicially drooling over him). Knowing that Dabi is our fav character, Bucky asks him to join, Dabi being Dabi, he agrees immediately.

Then we fucked like rabbits.

cheers to anon, both of my daddies in one post 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

warnings-double vaginial, reverse cowgirl, both dabi and bucky are menaces, y/n gets fucked so good she can barely think, let’s just say they aren’t light with you, fem!reader, lots of pet names, especially slut

It has just been moments since bucky had gotten home from his mission, greeting you with a feverish kiss after not seeing you for weeks

now here you were sitting on his lap as he chokes you with his metal arm from behind, your pussy drenching his thick cock and it pistons into you, fucking you so good that you’re practically screaming

it’s around then when you hear shuffling outside your bedroom door

“ah! buck..j-james!” you moan trying to get his attention, but he’s fucking you in a way that makes your head spin

“fuck i missed you…your cunt is s’ good” he moans, in a gruffly voice, making you scream his name

then, your bedroom door opens

“not sorry to intrude. will someone explain where the fuck i am?” the man says..you and bucky both just pause and stare looking at eachother so you can tell your thinking the same thing

“your…dabi is that right?” bucky says as you involuntarily squirm “yeah that’s the name? what the fuck is happening?” “this is multiversal earth 616….i’m assuming you don’t know..whatever, sorry for the….” he motions to your joined hips

dabi pauses looking the two of you up and down, pausing for longer when he looks at where your joined “I uh…don’t mind actually” he says a tint on his cheeks and you can’t stop yourself, your pussy clenching at the sight of your believed to be fictional crush “y-you can join if buck is ok with it” you say shakily

bucky nods

“fuck…shit ok” dabi says, and bucky moves his hands to sit at your waist, moaning lightly at the way your clenching around him dabi quickly stripping himself down to his boxers “please…fuck me..both of you” you say they both smirk in response dabi frees his cock from his boxers and you whimper at the thought of both of them stuffed inside you, as you do so he grabs your hair pushing your face down to his cock “suck, darling” bucky begins to fuck into you slowly

and you do, taking his sizable (and peirced 🤭) cock into your mouth balls deep licking at the base before coming back up “fuck…she’s a little slut isn’t she?” dabi says, a throaty moan following as you feel bucky’s hips speed up “she is quite the fuck..” bucky says pinching your nipple with his cold metal hand, fucking you roughly

at this point your deepthroating dabi, shaking from bucky fucking you “mmm fuck” dabi moans deeply“gnna cum down your slutty fucking throat” he moans pushing your head to the base of his cock doing as he said and spilling his cum down your throat bucky then speeds his thrusts feeling your cunt pulse around him “ah, fuck” Bucky moans gripping your waist bruisingly

bucky fucks into your g-spot making you squirt on dabi’s abs as you pulse around his cock, making him cum in you, a massive load dripping from your pussy

both of them are covered in sweat but still full with adrenaline, wanting to fuck you, they want to blow your brains out and ruin your pussy

and you can tell

“please…stuff me with cock” they both growl at the request, dabi looks at bucky and bucky nods leaning his head on your shoulder “maybe he’s right…my little slut” you can’t help but whimper at the comment “yes, daddy” “fuck” dabi fits 3 fingers inside your cunt before he lines himself up and pushing inside you, as you scream at the stretch being done to your cunt

they each begin to take turns slowly thrusting into you roughly pounding into entrance to your womb making you practically scream every time, making your tits bounce with each thrust every movement massaging the walls of your pussy perfectly, making it hard to focus on anything else “mmm, good girl”

bucky wraps his metal arm around your waist, his other one wrapping around your neck and bending your back laying your head on his chest “ah fuck, so good” dabi smirks gripping your thighs leaving angry ruby marks as he does his palms leaving you numb with a burning sensation as they begin to pound into you, abusing your cunt, it’s the only thing you can think about

suddenly they slow, dabi pulls out and they flip you over to where bucky is beneath you, slowly fucking you as he kisses you, when your lips let go, dabi very quickly buries himself balls deep inside of you, making you scream as his piercings roughly rub into your cunt dabi moans before speaking “such a cock hungry slut, fuck” they begin to pound harshly into you once more as you whine and moan “f-fill me please” this causes both of them to groan, evidently each of you were close

she rolls her eyes back as her head lays on buckys chest moaning loudly your cunt leaking “i-i’m gnna” “go ahead, doll” you begin to shake as your hit with your orgasam, moaning loudly as they continue to fuck you, both of them moaning as your walls tightly squeeze them, causing them to fuck you even rougher

they continue to fuck your over sensitive cunt they look at eachother to confirm before beginning to fuck you hasher, spilling their cum deeply into you afterwards, each one mixing together inside your now gaping hole, each of them pull out and your thoroughly filled with warmth “such a good girl” bucky says, kissing you before flipping you onto the mattress so that they can both watch their hot seed spill out of your cunt, buckys mark of a thorough fucking

bucky leaves for towels, handing dabi one to clean himself before he wipes you clean putting your pajamas on you and giving you a forhead kiss “goodnight doll, you did good” “g’night, sorry for taking over your fucking session” you smile tiredly “i would congratulate you on that, Dabi goodnight Buck…goodnight Dabi”

bucky waves his hand to dabi as they leave the room, dabi looks at him, an apparent question “oh, don’t worry she’s on the pill and she takes good care of herself” “good then” they both pause “your a lucky man they don’t have girls like that where i’m from, not that i know of anyway” bucky looks at him, “you’ll never find a girl like her but i’m sure you’ll find someone man” bucky opens a portal kind of thing back to where dabi should live, handing him a concealed watch with a small black button “in case you ever want to come back, nither of us would mind” “thanks man” dabi says before going through the portal

bucky softly walks back to their shared bedroom looking i into y/n’s tired yet soft eyes “hello, my beautiful girl” bucky says before wrapping his arms around her, practically engulfing her body in his as they softly cuddle “goodnight handsome”falling asleep in eachothers arms

#bnha dabi smut #dabi smut #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier smut

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