HOBIE BROWN | SPIDER-PUNK (atsv)
─────────────────
─────────────────
“Brand New Metal” (Hobie Brown & Fem!Reader)
| Hobie helps you pierce your nose.
| SFW, piercing description, needles
| Featuring almost the entirety of my own piercing experience. (Pic source: Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) movie)
You pull away for what feels like the hundredth time in five minutes and Hobie’s hand moves outta the way even faster, barely a blur of movement before it’s back within his bubble of space.
“C’mon, Mama, I can’t do this if you keep jumpin’ away from me.”
You shift in place where your butt is planted beside the hard water stained sink. Shoulders dropping you rub your hands down your face.
“I know that,” you grumble.
Problem was, knowing barely qualified as a quarter of the issue, and whoever said knowing was half the battle clearly hadn’t been staring down the point of the thickest needle you’d ever seen in person.
You wave your hand to the metal rod with a grimace. “But look at the size of that thing, Hobes. That’s gotta be overkill.”
Hobie’s accent seems to get thicker as he hits you with a deadpan tone, full brows shading his eyes.
“This’s a twenty gauge needle. I’ve seen you ’old your guts inside you and still make time to bash in some fascists, this’s nothin’.”
In response you flip him off but Hobie - perfectly unfazed - only starts twirling the needle around two latex glad fingers.
His own piercings - of which there were plenty - glint off of the dim yellow lighting of his bathroom like a taunt. Or at least it feels like that to you.
“Look, I already told you piercings ain’t some crucial part of the scene, Mama. You don’t have ta do any of this. It’s all just boxes and labels, the lot of it,” Hobie points the blunt side of the needle at you. “And you know I hate labels.”
“Yeah, Hobes, the whole of Camden knows. Besides, I want it cause I think it looks nice not cause of capitalism’s agenda to make us buy shit instead of looking at whatever human right of the day they’re doing away with,” you shrug and Hobie’s mouth twists to the side for a second before he’s shrugging too.
“Great. Point’s been made then. Pick a struggle.”
“Fuck your struggle,” you frown. “It’ll hurt.”
“Hn,” he scoffs and shakes his head. He’s giving you this narrow look like he’d let you keep this back and forth up for the rest of the day without any complaints though. “Fake ones exist for a reason.”
“Fake ones won’t give me the satisfaction of a real piercing though.”
“The lie that we need to feel pain in order to be worthy of livin’ is also capitalistic propaganda, Luv.”
Now it’s your turn to give him a look; face dropping and one brow rising.
Hobie chuckles.
“Fine.” He grins, sharp. “We both know I know exactly what it is you’re sayin’. I just can’t tell if being an accomplice to yer masochism is fair to me.”
“You wouldn’t deny a woman her creative outlet, would you?”
“S’pose not,” Hobie agrees, taking another alcohol swab and disinfecting the needle again for extra measure.
He eyes you up and down and you smile, fluttering your lashes at him and kicking your heels into his cabinet doors. You needed Hobie to be the one to do this. For one, because you were not going to be able to do this yourself, and for two, because he was really the only person you trusted to puncture a literal hole in your body.
You take a deep breath, now if only you could chill the hell out.
Hobie shakes his head, wicks flopping around and knocking into each other languidly.
“Yer one ‘elluva reluctant participant to this for someone agreein’ they’re a masochist,” he nods to the needle while brandishing it like a knife. He knows you're full of shit, but he’s not about to make your decision for you. “You gotta stop flinching every time light just glints off the needle if you really want this.”
You lock eyes with him, sitting up to your full height and trying not to back away from the metal rod. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the adrenaline rush to kick in.”
“Pretty sure that happens after the pain, yeh?
A huff and your fingers curl over the edge of the counter and squeeze.
“Just…get it over with, Hobie.” You take a deep breath. “Please?”
“Alright alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Hobie eases a hand around your jaw and raises the needle. “You know I’ve got you. Now keep still.”
Another deep breath from you and Hobie meets your eye for a second time.
“On three,” he grunts. With your head in his grasp you can’t physically nod so you use your eyes to convey your agreement.
Hobie takes a breath to start the countdown and you inhale with him. You’ve gotten your ears pierced before, you could do this. It was fine. Plus you’ll have a few seconds to prep yourself before he gets to number three. You got this. You both exhale.
“Three,” he states.
Without a second to spare the needle pierces through the squishy cartilage of your nose and your breath catches in your throat. Instantly tears well in your eyes and your face heats up something fierce - like somebody’s holding a blow dryer on the highest setting up to it with zero mercy. Your joints pop, grasp on the counter growing tighter in your attempt to keep yourself from jerking out of Hobie’s hold. The sheer need to not garner an actual injury from the metal is almost solely what keeps you in place.
This wasn’t like an ear piercing at fucking all. Fuck this septum piercing and fuck Hobie too. What the fuck?
“Ow! You motherfucker!”
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I only wrote his accent clearly some of the time; you’ll have to forgive me. I was confusing my damn self, okay? I did my best.
Also what I said about how adrenaline works isn’t really correct so don’t take that as gospel.
Edit: Had this labeled gn!reader on accident at first y’all, that’s my bad. Sorry for any confusion.
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.
3K notes
·
View notes