Spiderpunk X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

Prologue-  Hobie Brown X Deadpool!(fem) Reader

      TagList: @leothesquishy​ @notbluees​ @shslsimpette​ @feverish-dove​

“Well hellooo, there  people from the other worlds and today I have a very special story to tell you about me and my dear friend Hobo and my other few friends in our universe.” 

“This story will have some ups and downs but in the end I will always rock out with my best buddy till the end of our lives…

“Yea to the end isn’t that right Hobie.”

Chapter 1- Hobie Brown X Deadpool(fem) Reader

Taglist: @leothesquishy @notbluees @shslsimpette @feverish-dove​ @lauryn2theelectricboogaloo​

“Helloooo readers, how are you guys doing… I'm hoping you said good if not well then I hope that this little monologue from me will make feel better.”

“ So I have to tell my story well. It's pretty simple. First, my dad worked at Oscorp and basically worked under the president,President Osborn. What he didn't know was that the president was a psychopath who wanted to make super soldiers and well lets just say it didn't end well on bring your daughter work day.”

 “ The next thing I know is I'm being thrown out of a very tall building. I'm not kidding, the building was like 1000 feet tall cause I was falling for some time then I black out.

I awoke meeting my bestie,Hobo. Get it cause he’s an orphan and homeless.

Oh and we both found out that I can heal super fast and basically can't die. Don’t question how we figured it out or maybe question that, probably the only reason was I was still alive after being physically thrown out of a very large building.

But I continue and  me and my bestie Hobo live our lives. Yknow him and I both know being orphans and all that …

Cause I don't really know where my dad went and kinda don't care.

But it didn't matter until one day while me and Hobster were going to steal a few things from some bad people. But he got bit by one of these like crazy spiders Oscorp made then BAMMM! 

He has superpowers like me even though he tells me not to call what we have superpowers.  But they are.

Anyways after that me and him got this brilliant idea to use these superpowers we have and to get rid of all those dirty cops and Get rid of many things that Hobo told me that are important. But  I really didn’t care too much about it ,but  I still  help.

And that's when I became the one and only, yours trullyyyyy… wait for……wait for it……

DEADPOOLLLLLL!!!!

Yea that felt good. 

Oh and Hobiey became some spiderhero. The people call him Spiderpunk but you know hobby is,  he hates labels. That's why me and him aren’t even friends. I don't know what we are sometimes but most of the time were usually buddies.

Oh and after a few years of our gigs together and Hobster finally killing Ozzy Osborn. My little Hobster joined  basically a mafia of other spider people.

And of course I get to sometimes join his missions, against Miguel's wishes. And the most fun part is going to other dimensions and l finding other me’s out there too. I am so cool, we Deadpools even have our own little academy full of us. Heard it from another Deadpool.

Woah! I’ve been talking for so long you probably want to see Hobby.  But don’t worry you’ll see him in the next chapter. So that means you have to come back to see me if you want to see Hobo got it.Cool . 

Well then see you guys lateeerrr and you'll see mister Hobo later as well. I guess.

Bye Bye.

CHAPTER 2- Hobie X Deadpool (fem ) Reader

Taglist: @feverish-dove @shslsimpette @notbluees @leothesquishy​  @lauryn2theelectricboogaloo​

“Today is the day, the last day of my life Hobie…”

“JUST KIDDING” said the girl laying on a old couch in a small flat busting out laughing even through she was covered in blood.

“Hobo did they really think I was going to die so easily I mean have they meet I mean look at me” she say s standing up showing five bullet wounds through her body while her tall friend just laughs harshly at her saying “oh you're always full of surprises aren't mate” “of course I am Hobo”

“Why do you constantly call me Hobo, Mate “ he says looking at her while smiling all through he hates being labeled as something he lets her  label him… only sometimes.

“When Gwen coming back I miss her”... She says missing her little blond friend who had been staying with the two homeless children in their universe.

“Then let's go visit her on her mission, mate” he says smirking back at her as they both got the same idea to go “help” Gwen out on her mission and maybe even visit Pavitr Universe to check on him. “Yes let's go help” she smirks back, jumping onto his back as he uses the teleportyy watch thing, to open a portal.

“You ready Mate” “always am “mate”

              IN PAVITR  WORLD CLOSE TO THE CHEM BUILDING

“Hobo i think something bad happened here” “ you think mate” they both tell each other hopping into Pavitr’s universe and feeling that things were different they both pop back on there mask ready to help because they have nothing better to do “let's go find him” “but where can he be” “probably there” she points to a building with a lot more whole in in and it says the chem something.

“Something always happens in a chem building for a spider person” “ that's not true” “of course it is mate lets go HOBO HOURSEY” saying that he groans and laughs at her before going into the building through the whole again having no reason to be here.

‘ I have a bad feeling about this’ ‘shut up voice  here  to save him’ ‘oh boy were dead’ ‘shut up.’

(Its short and i'm sorry but the next one will be longer and will follow the course of the movie then have random time for the time hobie leaves the movie)

Could you write spiderpunk (Hobie) X NB/demi-boy reader in like a context of Hobie saves them but they don't know it's him since he has his spideysuit on lol. Totally alright if not

Been WAITING for a spiderpunk request 😤 (keep in mind well reading this I am a midwestern american😭)

Reader pronouns: they/them

~~

You are reckless. There is no denying it. And the fact you were being carried home by spiderpunk just solidified it. “Yeah, this is my street.” You say as he swings around a corner to a street lined with apartment buildings on either side. He drops you off in front of your building, which you normally would find weird but he’s spiderpunk. “Uhm…thanks for rescuing me!” You grin at him as he gazes down at you. “Yeah, no worries luv.” He puts an arm around your waist, much like your boyfriend hobie. If you could even call him that. He keeps saying he “dosnt do labels” but every time someone flirts with you it’s all “yeah that’s my partner, what about it mate?” Spiderpunk looks down at you, concerned. “You uncomfortable?” He lets go of your waist. “I- no it’s fine I just spaced out. Just thinking about this guy I like.” “He’s bloody lucky.” “I wish he thought that. He keeps saying he ‘dosnt do labels’ and than when some flirts with me it’s like all of a sudden he’s committed! It’s just…frustrating.” You can’t tell what the expression he has on his face is, but you hope it’s sympathy. “He’s dumb.” “What-?” “He’s dumb for not showing how much he appreciates you.” “Oh- thanks. I’m sure you are real busy so I shouldn’t keep you any longer. You press a kiss to his cheek over his mask. “My hero.” “I’m not a hero.” He says before swinging off. Not long after you get a call from hobie.

They seem pretty similar…right?

~~

A/N: I hope you like it! It was fun to write lol. If you see anything wrong with it or have any constructive criticisms please comment!!!

The Whole Being Soulmates Thing

summary; in this world, soulmates exist. he has one. it’s just that he already found someone, and your marks don’t match at all.

or, in which a stupidly stubborn punk in stupidly in love with someone who’s not his stupid ‘real’ soulmate.

pairing; hobie brown x reader, spider-punk x reader (soulmate!au)

warning(s); mentions of police brutality, not-too-detailed descriptions of injuries. r is non-gendered, no mention of r’s race. not proofread & written in the wee hours.

i am not black, i don’t have wicks. i did some research on how to properly care for them and wrote tiny parts in here with the info i had, but it may not be totally accurate. if something is wring, let me know. same for the lcp.

also hobie might sound a bit ooc but it’s a quiet fic and we don’t rly see him ‘quiet’ so eat my ahh(/j)

inspired by this post by @corrodedcoffeen ! not exactly 100% accurate but yea

He lived in a world full of soulmates and soulmarks.

Everyone who had a soulmate had a soulmark, like a little tattoo; whether it be on their arm, leg, back, even on their face. Sometimes, a person would have multiple soulmarks. In other cases, they wouldn’t have any at all. Some people were born with their marks, some appeared later down the line.

In most cases, people would do anything to find their soulmate. To be with them. To unite with their missing half.

Hobie Brown was among those who’d been born with a soulmate. Four little streaks that wrapped halfway around his left arm, like a scar from an animal that had halfheartedly tried to claw the whole thing off at birth.

Hobie loved his soulmark.

Not because he’d met his soulmate. Nor was it because the idea of a predestined partner made him giddy. No, it was because he felt a sense of pride whenever he looked at it. Pride that he’d beaten the system when he got you.

His thoughts wander as he sits on your your and his shared bed, a towel flat under his bum to prevent any grime that may be on his suit from rubbing off on the sheets. His vest and T-shirt had been haphazardly folded and placed on the bathroom sink, desperately needing a thorough cleaning after a particularly hard day, which left his torso bare for you to assess and repair the damage he’d been dealt once you peeled off the top half of his suit.

“Bit eager, yeah?” He’d joked as you hastily helped him out of his clothes, that cheeky smirk still shining through on his tear-streaked face. You’d answered with an exasperated laugh.

He had come home at two in the morning, stumbling through the window with a hand over the right side of his mask. When he’d ripped it off, tossing it on a random bit of the floor somewhere, you were met with red eyes, wet cheeks, a runny nose and a blood-crusted lip. Apparently, he’d been at the frontlines of a protest when one of the tear gas shells hit him right in the face, cracking his right eye lense and leaving him vulnerable to the gas’s full effect. You didn’t need to be told what happened to know what came next. After all, it was always the same routine with the pigs - gas the crowd and beat any individuals that strayed from the mass.

Now, as Hobie’s fingers tap a little rhythm on the mattress, your hands glide a washcloth long his skin, being careful to minimize pressure on his bruises. Which, granted, is hard when they cover most of his back and ribcage, but you made it work somehow. Tear gas residue sticks to anything it can, and although his body was mostly had been mostly covered, it gave the both of you peace of mind to clean anything off just in case. He thanks you by softly gripping your other hand, his fingers lacing together with yours.

“Need more milk?” You ask, going to put the cloth down and grab the already half-empty sprayer on the ground next to the bed, having already been used in the bathroom just minutes prior and put there just in case. He shakes his head, the hand that’s not on yours gently grabbing your wrist and guiding it back to his chest.

As you continue, he thinks back to the first time he’d held your hand like that.

It was when the two of you were barely teenagers, when he didn’t fully understand how the whole ‘soulmates’ thing even worked, or how messed up it really was. The only thing he really knew was that people were supposed to stay together forever if their marks matched, even if that wasn’t always the case.

Having known each other since you were just kids, he remembers wishing so badly that your soulmark matched his. He had wished that little planet on your ankle could be washed away, a temporary tattoo or doodle instead of an actual mark. He remembers drawing little black holes at the corners of his school worksheets, hoping that one of them would eventually swallow your mark whole and replace it with four lines identical to his.

Back then, he had wished his ugly little bands would somehow arrange themselves into a square. At least then he could insist that his mark was a planet. A weird square one, yeah, but a planet just like yours.

But as you looked at him with that warm glow in your eyes, he swore you were the best thing that had ever happened to him, soulmate or not.

If only that kid could see him now - here, with you.

He suppresses a smile that threatens to slip onto his face, as moving his lips makes the cut sting.

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” you mutter, wiping at the last bit of his torso. Hobie lets out a low sigh.

“‘M sorry love,” he says back, giving your hand a little squeeze. He really does mean it. He hates seeing the worry and sadness in your eyes every time he came back to you after one of these days. Fuck knows how he’d cope with it if you came home like this just every now and again, let alone what seemed like every other day recently. “I do try to be careful.”

You hum in response, getting up from your spot and holding out your hand for him to do the same. He does so with little to no hesitation, only waiting a moment to brace himself for the soreness that would follow. You lead him to the bathroom.

“Everything off,” you say, then immediately follow it up with, “Don’t.”

“I didn’t even say nothin’!” Hobie protests, feigning offense. As if that glint in his eye didn’t give it away.

“You need to get cleaned off properly.” You stress the lest word, letting go of his hand so that he can strip. “You can’t just go to bed after a quick wipe-down tonight. You need a shower.”

“But it’s gonna be cold.” Hobie groans. Tear gas wasn’t anything new, he’d had to clean the residue off of himself more times than he could count. That didn’t mean he was a fan of the cold showers that did most of the actual cleaning. Despite his complaints, he hastily steps out of his remaining articles of clothing as you start the water.

His muscles tense as he steps into the shower, pulling him out of his somewhat drowsy state. He quickly scrubs every part of his body, wanting to get out as fast as possible.

He washes his hair out last, taking care to not mess them up no matter how much he hates the temperature of the water. He’d made the mistake of trying to shampoo the whole of his head in one go just once before, and he’d be damned if he had to go running to the auntie down the street again to fix any tangles neither you nor him could sort out.

In his defense, he’d almost bled out just a couple hours beforehand that day. Having your first (superhero-related) near-death experience tends to shake you up a little.

“You’re such a man-baby,” you’d teased him as Hobie gripped your hand for dear life, the woman you’d guaranteed could get that nightmare of a knot out sorting through his hair with an arsenal of olive oil and a wide toothed comb.

“Oh piss off—” his reply was cut short as she detangled a particularly nasty bit of the problem, unfortunately having to tug exceptionally hard at his head. “Ow!”

The woman - Aunt Margaret, as you’d introduced her - tsked at him to sit still, poking at the tangle with the handle of her comb to see if it would give way now. Luckily, most of it did. She muttered something along the lines of ‘young people nowadays’, but in a sort of gruffly affectionate sort of way. From what you’d told him, Aunt Margaret was sort of the neighborhood mom, always helping people who needed it no matter how much she gave them grief for it.

The three of you made small talk over tea after his hair was nice and hairball-free, albeit a little slippery. Turned out, Aunt Margaret had plenty of stories of her own to share. Hobie had been delighted to hear about everything that had happened when she was a part of the League of Colored Peoples, almost ready to practically beg the woman to adopt him.

Two weeks later, when he decided to drop by again, the topic of soulmates came up. Aunt Margaret asked if he’d found his soulmate yet, to which he replied he didn’t believe in the soulmate system. She nodded in agreement.

“Just as well,” she had said, a frown making its way onto her face. “I’ve seen too many good people get their hearts broken because of that bloody mark.” She eyed his upper arm, exposed in the sleeveless top he’d worn at the time. “I got mine covered ages ago.”

“Did you meet your soulmate before that?”

Aunt Margaret shook her head. “That’s a story for another time, Bartholomew.”

He still makes time for tea with her every week or so.

The second he steps out of the shower, he’s greeted with a huge, warm towel fresh from the dryer. He wraps it around himself as you usher him back to the bedroom where you’d laid out some comfy clothes for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices the clothes he’d discarded on the bathroom floor is long gone, along with his vest and tee that were sitting on the sink.

“I put the studs out on the veranda to air out,” you say, noticing him glance at the empty sink. “They’ll need washing, though. My eyes got all weird when I looked at the vest too close, and your belt’s not much different. The rest of everything’s in the machine.”

Pulling on his bottoms, Hobie silently nods at your words before pulling the tank top you’d dug out for him over his head. He then walks over to place a kiss on your head. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to leech off your warmth. He lets out a little noise of contentment when he feels you hug him back.

Wordlessly, he walks the two of you to your the shared vanity, plopping himself down on the seat. You grab the hairdryer off the table, checking to make sure it’s okay for you to help before switching it on to dry his wicks. Hobie closes his eyes as you make your way through each piece, eventually stopping once there’s no more water to be purged. Your fingers sorting through his hair so carefully is calming - almost therapeutic, and it takes all his willpower to keep himself sitting straight up for you.

After that, he clumsily grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, ignoring how you yelp in surprise and unplugging the dryer. He then proceeds to carry you around your place, flicking off all the lights before getting back to the bedroom and (softly) throwing you on the mattress.

“Was that really necessary?” You groan as he throws the sheets over the both of you. Hobie then proceeds to drag himself half on top of you, using you as a full body pillow.

“Definitely.” He replies, his voice a bit muffled against your pajamas.

You laugh. “Sure.”

He tilts his head up to give you a goodnight kiss, murmuring ‘dream ‘bout me’ next to your ear to which you respond by playfully pushing him away.

“Rude,” He mutters, smiling into your clothes as he huffs in indignation. Your laugh echoes through your body, a sound more beautiful than any music he had or would ever hear.

He doesn’t fall asleep too easily that night. Rogue thoughts on soulmates and fate flinging about his skull. For some reason, they’d all picked tonight to bug him to pieces.

Unknowingly, his grip around you tightens, feeling your weight in his arms. It grounds him as all the doubts try to throw him off, to destabilize something perfectly happy.

What if they find their soulmate? Then they’ll decide if they want me or them. (Me.)

What if I find my soulmate? What, like I’d break their heart for a stranger? Yeah. Fat chance.

He swatted those questions away like pesky little mosquitoes until he eventually fell asleep, choosing to focus instead on your heartbeat ringing in his ears.

So what if you two weren’t soulmates? He loves you, you love him. That’s all that matters.

The universe can suck an egg.

—

The next morning, Hobie woke up at 11, as usual. You woke up right after him as he stirred, like you always did. The two of you lounged in the comfort of your the sheets for a while before you had to eventually get up for breakfast.

Hobie was trailing behind you on your walk to the kitchen when something catches his eye.

His reflection in the vanity mirror.

Something’s… off.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh shit.

“Y/n?” He calls, looking down at his upper arm just to make sure the mirror isn’t playing tricks on him. Sure enough, there it is.

You turned around at his voice, eyebrows furrowed in a confused way. “Hm?”

“Look.”

He watches as your confusion morphed into surprise and then back to confusion again. Then you auickly check your ankle, confusion turning into realization.

“We match.”

Your soulmarks had somehow changed overnight, turning into small, stylized sun symbols that stand out more than either of your marks before ever did, clear as day.

It’s a few moments of stunned silence before laughter breaks out between the two of you.

“You know what we have to do now,” you manage, an arm around the front of your midsection and the other hand on your face.

“I think I do.” Hobie says, practically wheezing

By the end of the day, the two of you have covered up your new soulmarks with mismatching tattoos.

Noticing you <33

Hobie brown x gn!reader oneshot

My first time doing a whole oneshot for hobie! Any advice on his character is happily accepted :)

Warnings: a lil blood, no use of y/n, i dont think anything else but if you notice something tell me!!

Summary: hobie slowly falling you <3

-----------

Hobie brown wasn't sure when he first noticed you. But he thought it was the class trip you took in secondary school. 

He was always vaguely aware of you. People talked, they always did. He was vaguely aware of all the not-quite-normal people, the goths, the emos, the other punks.... And so he knew you existed. 

And then you went on this trip..

You weren't in the same room, but you were in the same chaperone group. 

And then he was painfully aware you existed. 

He saw that whenever there was a street performaner you would run and put a few dollars into their case, and he noticed when you offered your sunglasses to someone from another group, and he saw how you would pick up little trinkets from the ground and shove them into your pockets like a bird.

He watched when you smiled whenever someone said something nice about you. He watched you sit by a kid you didn't know because they were alone. He was painfully aware whenever the two of you made eye contact and you smiled at him, he always looked away.

He watched when you held a crying kid's hand and helped her find her mom.

And on the bus ride back, he noticed how you fell asleep sitting up, your head resting on the window. he noticed when you woke up too. And how you yawned and.. he noticed just about all of it. 

By the end of the it, he was convinced you were some kind of angel. 

He didn't even believe in that kind of thing, he never did. But there wasn't any chance that someone as perfect as you was human. 

(He didn't believe in perfection either)

He  took notice of you in the hallways, and when you got on the school bus. then he noticed how whenever he was sent down to the office for his 'behavior issues' (another thing he didn't believe in) you were sitting with the school councilor. 

Eventually, though a friend, you too started talking. And then you started hanging out with his friend group.

He noticed you when the group hung out for the first time out of school. It was just the mall, and he noticed how you offered to me buy him a shirt when he said he didn't bring money.  

He rejected the offer but he didn't protest when you Gave him half of your pretzels from the food court, claiming you 'weren't that hungry'. He could tell it was a lie.

Eventually when he did get your number from the same mutual friend, he was a bit too happy when you texted back immediately. 

And then you guys got closer.

He noticed how you would mess with his rings whenever he'd let you, and how you would always tug on that wallet chain you wore. He wondered what you would do if he started tugging on it.

And eventually, he got more confident.

And, yeah, Hobie was always touchy. And, yeah, you didn't mind when his fingers tugged on your belt loops, or his arm wrapped around your shoulder whenever you stood next to him.

Eventually, you met up just the two of you, cause the rest of the group was busy. It was casual, and you definitely didn't panic a little when he grabbed your hand as you walked around that old record store he wanted to show you around.

His voice pulled you back to reality a moment after, "you alright?" He smiled after you nodded, "what kinda music you like, luv?"

And then there was tonight.

He was panicked, and hurt, and he didn't know where else to go. His suit was half covered in blood, which was coming from his left arm. He was dizzy, and he could barly stand right. He didn't realize where he was untill he was knocking on the window of your flat.

When you opened you window, he tugged off his mask.

He noticed how scared you looked for a moment, as your hand flew over your mouth, but he was thankful as you opened your window.

He noticed how focused you looked as he sat silently and your wrapped arm with bandaids and an ace bandage. And he was thankful when you gave him Tylenol and one of your oversized hoodies. You even offered to wash his suit.

Finally, when you knew he was okay, and he was laying down in your bed (next to a pile of stuffed animals which he thought was excessively cute) you had a chance to question him.

He noticed how your eyebrows furrowed as you asked him about being spiderman, and you asked him if he was feeling okay again. Then you asked him the question he was the most worried about.

"..why did you come here?"

You noticed as he hesitated for a moment.

Hobie gave it a thought why did he come here? He was half delirious, he could say that. Or he could be honest.

"You make me feel safe. I Knew you could help me out, figured I could trust you with the whole secret identity thing too."

You noticed that he seemed more mellow then he normally did, more soft. It made your heart melt.

You offered to sleep on the couch in the main room, but he promised he wouldn't mind sleeping next to you. Honestly? You didn't mind either.

Eventually, you ended up in his arms, pressed against his chest, his head in the crook of your neck.

He could hear your heartbeat, and you could feel his hands on your waist.

"...thanks, luvie."

He whispered quietly, and you felt him press a kiss onto your shoulder. His voice could give you goosebumps, and his lip piercing felt warm on your skin.

"Course' Hobes.."

You whispered back, almost unsure. He noticed that, of course he did.

Hobie Brown wasn't sure when he fell in love with you, but he was sure it happened. And he was sure that it was never going to change.

Eventually, he'll tell you, that's what he promised himself that night.

What he couldn't notice was how you promised yourself the same thing.