mawhoreaga

Latest Posts by mawhoreaga

AAAAAH AAAAAH AAAAAH just went on a blocking spree and i am not done yet. i KEEP getting smut fics of minor characters with the "aging up" excuse shoved everywhere PLEASE JUST LET THEM REST😓🙏. aging up characters is not a real thing in my dictionary and i dont get how you could be attracted to 15/16 yr olds when you dont even get to see a GLIMPSE of adulthood from them. the fact that you wanted to 'age them up' just to write filthy nsfw says ENOUGH🤕 i never blocked ppl on tumblr before this is a first but i was complaining about it w my friend then opened tumblr bcs i was feeling sad and wanted something cute just to see this monstrosity

bloody hell...

anyways dont forget to request something jjk related literally anything i feel like writing headcanons again🙏🙏

Hi I’m etaf from Gaza

Your support is our only hope for survival after losing everything.

We hope you will continue to support us by donating or sharing to help save and rebuild our lives. Every contribution matters, much appreciated🌹🙏

^^

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

Dear Supporter,

I hope this message finds you and your family in good health. My name is Rakan Zaqout from Gaza.🍉 I am reaching out to seek your urgent help in spreading the word about our fundraiser. I lost both my home and my school, my parents lost their jobs too, due to the ongoing genocide in Gaza and we are facing catastrophic living conditions.💔

I kindly ask you to visit our campaign. Your support, whether through donating or sharing, will help us reach more people who can make a difference. Thank you for your continued support for the Palestinian cause. Your dedication brings us closer to freedom.🕊

Please note, our campaign has been verified by 90-ghost and aces-and-angels.

^^

Hi there 👋,

My name is Mohammad, a father of three young children living in Gaza. We are facing unimaginable hardships due to the ongoing catastrophic war, and our home is no longer safe. I’ve started a fundraising to raise $40,000 to move my family to a safer place where my children can have a chance at a better future. 💔🍉

If you could spare a moment to read our story and consider donating or even sharing, it would mean the world to us. Every bit of support brings us closer to safety and hope. 🙏

Thank you for your kindness and compassion. ❤

https://gofund.me/fd1faea2 🔗

🫵🏾🫵🏾

I think a lot of people negate just how fucking prevalent male privilege is, esp when it comes to conversations online.

like, when we talk abt fetishisation, we are always referring to the specific, right? so, a lot of the time, we're referring to when people take a group (such as lesbians) and turn them into a specific sexual fetish for someone outside of it (men). and the thing is that, yeah! gay men ARE also fetishised, but the difference is in treatment.

when lesbians are fetishised, there is ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS, an underlying inherent nature of violence to it; whether that's violence via corrective rape, violence via sexual assault, violence via hate crimes. and that's especially true when it comes to the fetishisation of trans lesbians - there is an inherent violent nature to it.

on the flip side, however, when gay men are fetishised, there is NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, an underlying level of violence. yeah, it's uncomfortable & it's fucking gross, but no, you aren't going to be attacked or murdered.

and that is male privilege. men will never have to worry abt people who fetishise them actually fucking murdering them for saying "no" when harassed into being asked for sex. and I can't even believe this needs to be said, in all honesty, but evidently it does, so fuck it.

a lot of you lot forget that male privilege exists, like, MASSIVELY, and negate its prevalence within society in order to be misogynistic. you act as if fetishisation of gay men is exactly the same, fuckin 1:1, with the fetishisation of lesbians but it is NOT.

yeah, we're both hypersexualised and treated like & portrayed as just little sex toys for people who don't even see us as human beings. yes, it's homophobic and fucking disgusting how people treat us as their own personal little porno projects solely for existing as gay & lesbian. yeah! it's fucking GRIM!

but gay men do NOT have to wonder if the person saying those things is gonna be violent towards gay men at all. gay men don't have to sit there and wonder if the woman saying "mmm I love jerking it to gays - you should two should make out, it'd be SO HOT!" is gonna fuckin beat your head and teeth in for refusing to kiss a man on the bus. gay men don't have to worry abt these things when it comes down to fetishisation, and that is male privilege.

see the fuckin difference?

stop NEGATING male privilege. stop DENYING that it does v much exist.

please PLEASE learn how to tag your fanfics. Don’t tag fluff when it’s angst, don’t tag smut when it’s fluff and please don’t tag characters that ARENT EVEN MENTIONED IN THE FIC!!!!

hear me out.

dick grayson x male reader.

summary: dick pushes you to your limits in the gym, and your animosity towards him slowly transforms into unexpected admiration (and unlocks months of concealed pining).

wc: 7.2k. genre: smut. warnings: top!dick, dom!dick, bottom!reader, sub!reader, one sided rivalry (reader's end), enemies to lovers(?), brief fighting, reader and dick are working out, physical fighting (with boxing gloves), envious!reader, insecure!reader, hotheaded!reader, uncut!reader, public!sex, gym!sex, dirty talk, praising, guidance, handjob, fingering, kissing, spitting, lots of sweat, body worshipping, reader will be walking funny for the next week.

Your shoes squeaked after every thump from landing on your feet. One foot chased after the other in a pursuit, and your knees raised past your navel as the cable rope cut through the air with a turn before hitting the ground. You huffed after every snap of the rope, a burn scalding the muscles in your thighs and wrists with every rotation, tensing as if you’d been hit, as if your coarse throat would feel the remnants of the whip afterward. 

“Five…Four…Three…” 

Sweat dripped off your forehead, off the locks of your bouncing hair, in anticipation of a merited water break. The water bottle sat on the seated stationary bench, pooled by its own condensation. You could taste it with your eyes, a ravishing sight that pushed you harder. You sped up, raised your knees higher, and endured the pain for ten seconds more. Your gut was sucked in, engaging with your core, and your breathed out in methodical puffs, your chest rising along with it. Everything was burning, muscles tightening into flaming knots that would render you frail by tomorrow morning. If the floor was lava, your body was the volcano erupting it. 

Holy bells rang once you finally counted down to zero, and you immediately came to a halt, the weight of your gratification breaking your movement with an echoing thud as you instantly marched forward to quench your thirst. 

“Fuck.”

Your nostrils stung more than usual. Flared with every inhale as you were catching up to your breath, and more so when you cooled down with several sips of water. Breathing had never felt so good, an absolute fiend you turned out to be after every workout.

You’re getting weaker. Breathing harder. Quicker. You’re losing control on your breath. How are you going to keep up with the team? If you feel this fatigued after a warm up? You let them down last time. Got knocked out and Dick—

He was getting to your head. Again.

Dick. 

The name rolled off your tongue bitterly. A foul taste of metal and battery acid lingered in your parched mouth before it was drowned out by another gulp of water. Another. 

And another. 

And another, as the aforementioned man across from you halted his ropes, stopping in his tracks. 

He’d been doing this since you’d arrived. Mirroring you like a reflection, copying your every move as if you were an instructor. If you were doing strength training, he stopped his cardio to take the machine next to you. Pushed when you pushed, groaned—louder—when you did. 

Needed to stretch your hips? He made some lame excuse about how his legs were too tight, and felt the need to join you on the floor, stretching himself beyond the limits of what you could achieve. It colored you impressed, but you would never say that out loud. Though, you did silently admire the view of his ass, and that especially, would be kept a secret between you and the floor.

Now, it was with jump-roping. The two ropes swung from either corners of the gym like the gears working silently in your head. There was a need to compete with you for some reason.

A satisfied smirk rolled a drop of sweat off his face, and seized his naked torso with glitter as he took a step under a light that lit his body like a podium, or—and you hated to admit it—like one of the sculptures you remembered fawning over in Art History. From his broad build, you could tell that Dick was sturdy, toned, and undoubtedly beautiful. 

His fringe clung onto his forehead, but you could see the gratification he got from outlasting you, smiling while he squeezed a stream of water into his mouth. You noticed how much more capable he was with the calmness of his breath, and felt his adrenaline pumping through the room. In turn, it possessed you—his energy–maneuvering you to the center of the room where a foam mat was placed, and to which Dick expectedly trailed after you.

“Wanna have a go, partner?” Dick said while rolling his shoulders back before picking up a pair of boxing gloves, then another without your confirmation. 

“Seriously—“ He tossed the other pair towards you, an accurate shot that landed into your arms. “Are you going to be doing this all day? Copying me?” You silently thanked him because you began kneading one glove like a stress ball, the rubber foam absolutely gratifying with every scrunch of your hand, as well as consoling as it kept you sane for a little longer.

“I don’t see the problem—“ You began approaching him with the gloves fitted snug over your fists. “Well, actually. I do see the problem. You’re not training hard enough.” Marching with heavy stomps, your nose flaring with every breath that he casually spat out. 

“You give up as soon as you feel tired. I mean, no amount of water breaks are going to help you. You think we have the time to sip water when we’re rescuing a town? A city? The world?” 

His voice, soft and smooth yet it was grating to your ears. The constant talking. Rambling. It gave you a headache. It made you see red. Hearing him berate you. Mock you.

“You’re breathing too hard too, which is taking up all of your energy. And your emotions? You need to control them better. Not only does it affect your combat, but your relationship with your team. You shut yourself off when you don’t do well on a mission.” 

“What are you, my therapist now?”

“Listen, it does no one any good if you’re—“

And it stopped with a strong swing towards his left cheek. His head snapped to the side when the rubber foam smacked him like a whip. 

If red hadn’t blurred your vision, you would’ve noticed the tiniest smile he mustered up from the corner of his lips. A crooked, slanted one that was followed up with a chuckle.

“Not exactly fair play, but…” He raised a hand to rub at his cheek before adjusting the gloves onto his wrists, cracking his neck and stretching the muscles in his back with one more shoulder roll before positioning himself like you were: knees bent and fists raised with the gloves fencing off your face. 

“I’ll give it to you. You can throw a good punch. Beginner’s luck?”

The comment made you swing at his left, and he snapped his head to the right. You missed. There was a precision to his move, something that you lacked in as he snuck a punch to your right cheek. A grunt was stifled, and then let loose in a cough when you felt another beat to the left of your abdomen. Sputtering breath, when Dick scored another hit to your jaw. 

“Fuck—“ Your eyes locked on him while he held your gaze. Your perception seemingly widened, heightened as you’d noticed the smallest movements from Dick, twitching upon instinct as if he was about to strike, but there was nothing. Just the taunt of his arms, and Dick’s teasing smile to garnish, to taunt.

He was circling you. You were circling him. It was the same movement, following each other like two predators unwilling to share the last morsel of food. You felt as much as a leader as Dick was, but from the outsider’s perspective, it was telling who was following the other’s lead. 

Who was the experienced leader of the two sparring men.

Dick feigned a punch with a raise of his arm, and you immediately buckled, jerking back to nothing but a bluff of a hit. You were then greeted by an obnoxious chuckle before he landed a successful sneak to your head, a hit impactful enough to rattle your knees and knock a scoff out of you.

“Be observant. I punch better with my—”

Another swing to his left cheek. Successful, and harder this time, as it managed to stumble him from his stance. You could feel the impact of your fist on Dick, even if it was cushioned by foam. 

It was exhilarating.

“Fight better with your mouth closed too.” You spat, raising your arm to strike the same cheek again. Dick detected it before you could attack, and ducked lower to the right, where he met a sudden fist to his jaw, a calculative undercut that sent him falling onto his back.

“Shit—“

Something unleashed in you. The red in your vision had scorched, burned blue as it reached its highest temperature. You immediately seized the opportunity to straddle him, to face the source of your belittlement, to look at the leader that everyone on your team had silently wish you were, that everyone had admired, to somehow stare and pierce him long enough with your eyes that you were able to tear into his body and take his incredible abilities and mold them into your own, becoming that someone that you had undoubtedly admired as well. 

You threw another blow to his face, enough to knock a groan out of him. It was pleasing to your ears, the low trembles of his voice because of your touch, they twitched with gratitude. But you needed more, a beg from Dick, a plea for you to stop. You threw another punch, and then another as you became blinded by rage. It was out of your control, your arms had a mind of their own as they continued wailing on Dick, even if he had shielded himself with his arms for the last minute now.

You breathed hard, tossing your gloves off as you held him down for a stronger grip and prying his arms from his face. A need to touch him, to feel the impact that your gloves had been restraining you from. You pinned him by his bare and sweaty shoulders that made the grasp all the more slippery, but you nonetheless held him anywhere you could, by his biceps now, and stared into him. You peered into those brown eyes that mysteriously settled your fury until you’d succumb to the beautiful tranquility of his orbs, quietly pacific compared to his mouth.

Dick’s chest was rising. Up and down like your own, recovering from the pummeling you had given him. His eyes were widened as he watched you—studied you. No marks on his face, thankfully due to the cushions you were begging to be replaced with stone a tantrum prior. 

It was humiliating to prove him right, about your emotions, and you sat still, on his lap, breathing. Your fists had stripped you of the little energy you had left, and turned it into mush, but you found support in the warmth of Dick’s body, still breathing. Your grasp had loosened, but remained on his biceps. Warm skin, and ever slightly kneading because of your own envy of Dick’s strength.

You felt your eyes closed, shutting yourself off of the supply of Dick’s silent consolation as the adrenaline pumping through your veins had slowed. “I can never be you, can I?”

“Who says you have to?” Finally, Dick’s voice hadn’t grated your ears like it had in the past. It was gentle as ever, but this time, there was a warmth to it that you wished you could be bundled up in if it had a physical body. A spirit that could temper you with just its warmth, rather than the toxic heat that had just boiled your rage.

“Because—they’ve seen you, Grayson. They know how you operate with the Titans. I can see it, you know? The way they look at you, then the way they look at me. It’s just…”

“You know, my team looked at me like that when they saw how Bats ran the Justice League.” 

“With disgust? Contempt? Disdain? All of the above?”

“No,” He laughed, gathering himself half-way up with the support his elbows. “with... relief?”

“That’s… not helping?” You rolled your eyes, and then felt yourself flush upon coming to realization upon your current position on his lap when he sat halfway up. “Sorry—“ Without making eye contact, you brought yourself off Dick’s hips, but found yourself suddenly pulled back by the waist.

“No, no. What I meant was…” He cleared his throat, sitting up as he positioned you back on his lap again. His hands interlocked against the small of your back, a devise to keep you from abandoning him on the lone mat, but to also pull you closer, hip to hip. 

“Batman… is impressive. You’ve seen him, right? How he has this presence that automatically appoints him as leader. Commander, really. I don’t know anyone that can plan better than him, but that’s not to say that he doesn’t have his faults. He’s all business, little relations. So are the others. You’ve seen them too. Supes, the Lanterns. I respect it. They respect him because of that, and vice versa. But… that’s not how my team works. Not the Titans.”

“I see…” You shifted, nodding every now and then as you listened.

“It’s just… My members are more than co-workers, you know? This isn’t some nine-to-five job that you’ll probably quit after five years. It’s… our lives now. And with them, they’re with me every step of the way. So, they’re more than co-workers. You don’t protect co-workers. Not saying the Justice League don’t care about each other… But what you do protect are friends, families. Yeah, they’re my family, so I treat them as such. And maybe… that’s why they seemed relieved they were part of my team. And…”

“I just have to find what works with my team?”

“Yeah. I mean, you guys are just starting out. Everyone’s still adapting, still getting to know each other, still figuring out each other’s powers, right? Things are bound to be a little more destructive in terms of chemistry.”

“I don’t know… I just… I don’t know if I can lead them like you guys can. I’m not like you guys. In terms of skills, in terms of leadership, in terms of—“

“Then work on that with your team. That’s what a good leader does, they seek out help from their teammates and let them know that their opinions and help are valued.”

It sounded absolutely simple. Something that shouldn’t have taken you this long to figure out, but Dick was right. Rather than seeking for your team’s help, you thought you had to endure whatever situation had arisen on your own. It weighted heavily on your shoulders, until you couldn’t muster up the strength to push your own weight. And in turn, that affected your team. You needed them, just as much as they needed you. 

“And here you are…” Dick continued, suddenly bursting with a smile. “Instead of spending time with your team, you’re with me. I know I’m quite charming, but geez, (M/N), can a guy get some alone time?”

You scoffed and lightly punched at his chest. “Did we forget that you were the one joining me in the gym when you have your own in the tower? Copying my every move? What’s up with that?”

He shrugged, kneading nonchalantly at your sides. “Knew you’d be alone. Knew you were probably blaming yourself, moping around. Thought I would give you a little push.”

You shifted again, your hands keeping close to yourself as you couldn’t muster up the strength to complain about his wandering hands.

Or rather, find anything about his hands to complain about.

“Push as in to annoy me?”

“Well, I was supposed to be teaching you some things, but, uh… you were playing whack-a-mole with my head earlier.” 

“That’s because—“ You sighed, dropping your head low in embarrassment. “Sorry. I don’t know. Everything started happening so fast and—“

“No, it’s fine. It gives me the perfect opportunity to introduce you my first lesson of the week.” He was sincere, smiling up at you, almost as if he had mistaken your brief fit of rage as a game of tag.

“What’s that?” You asked, meeting his eyes once again.

He pondered for a moment,, pursing his lips as he was lost within his thoughts before speaking again. “How To Communicate To Your Team 101.”

“How is that even going to—“

You felt a sudden press to your lips. A softness that awakened your five senses by tenfold, and a desire that you had kept vaulted in the back of your mind; now beginning to unlock to its freedom the longer Dick had his lips on you. It wasn’t right. No, it wasn’t like it was morally wrong, it was just…

You hesitated, conjuring up all the reasons in your head on why kissing Dick wasn’t a good idea. But it was futile. Everything had been resolved within this moment; the way he let you use him like a punching bag, the way he didn’t spare a single second to share his empathy for your concerns, the way he tended to your wounds days prior despite your brazen disregard to his kindness. 

You were being selfish again, guarding yourself off with ice like you had done with the others. When in reality, you wanted him. 

No, you desperately needed him.

You felt him open up his mouth, assuming he was about to speak, but you seized his breath with a slot of your lips, and kissed him. One hand came up to rest on his cheek, to finally feel the slight scruffs you had delivered on his skin, and you caressed tenderly across textured skin, to the slow rhythm of your lips, whispering, “Sorry… again.”

“Don’t be. Without it, you wouldn’t have been on my lap. And… I wouldn’t be kissing you right now.” Dick muttered, a satisfaction to his voice like he had gotten his wish fulfilled. He ran a lone hand up your back, then back down your spine, bone tingling once he repeated again under your hoodie, and gazed across your bare skin.

“What are you doing to me…” It was a genuine question, something you wished could be answered because you didn’t know yourself. And yet, you were scared of the answer if Dick was to ever give you one. It’d been a while since you felt like this, with someone else.

For the past few months, you hated him. Couldn’t stand the sight of him. And now, you feel like you couldn’t tear yourself apart from him. From the softness of his lips and to the warmth of his body; the longer you endured him, the more you realized you had been captivated by Dick all along.

“I don’t know, but… I like figuring you out.” Dick’s speech was slurred from dragging his lips down to your jaw, nipping at your sweaty skin. “Like how you push me away, but you can’t help but tolerate me whenever I’m in the room.” He breathed you in, sucking at the corner of the sharp bone. You pressed your head into his neck, silently letting him take you. “How you’d sneak glances at me and roll your eyes, only to keep on staring… and staring… until you hadn’t realized that I was looking back at you. Because you were too busy looking at me.”

Nothing but the truth came out Dick’s mouth. Remarkably candid, because you thought you were more covert about your conflicting feelings for him. It brought a bloom of heat to your cheeks, and you hid your face inside his neck, groaning because Dick began licking at your neck, and because you felt stripped, absolutely vulnerable.

“Dick…” Something was rising in your shorts, tightened around the center. Warm and pulsing, even when Dick had unzipped your hoodie and thrown them to the side. A chill was felt across your bare back, most likely a draft from the vent, and Dick held you closer, sandwiching the heat, and suddenly your erection, between his body and yours.

“I knew you never hated me.” There was something about your chest that he loved. How smooth it felt. A few hairs had grown at the center, raised from the feelings Dick was supplying to your body. They tickled his cheek whenever he rubbed himself against it until they were then flattened with a long, fluttering lick as he maintained eye contact with you. “Always right.”

The taste of your sweat was salty yet delicate on his tongue.

“Hate is a strong word...” Your fingers threaded through Dick’s locks, scrunching them into your fist when he started toying one nipple at a time with his tongue. The wet muscle flicked deftly, then he suckled, and then tugged, like he had known your body, like he had explored your body before. It was strange, how he knew the right thing to say, and the right thing to do.

Maybe he was ‘always right.’

“Whatever it is, it’s not stopping you right now.” His hands dropped to the waistband of your shorts and he pulled away from your swollen nubs. It was unwilling. You could see it in his eyes, the thirst to ruin, and it compelled him to bring another suck to your nipples, a few seconds more that almost pulled a dangerous whimper out of you before he ultimately paused. “Nor is it stopping me.” 

With a gentle push on your chest, he leaned you back onto the mat while lifting your hips up, smoothly sliding your shorts off. They joined the pile containing your hoodie soon after, and then your briefs to top.

“R-right here? Aren’t there cameras or something…?” Your hands instinctively came down to cover yourself, cupping that embarrassing erection that Dick was thirsting for. The head of your cock peeked out from your clumsy gasp, and his hands instantly came up to pry your hands off.

Dick had that same look in his eyes when he was circling around you earlier. A rapacity blaring the pupil of his eyes. His piercing gaze alone kept your hands from coming up to cover yourself again. You knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against his strength.

“I doubt anyone is watching the gym… Private for a reason.” Your legs were then wrapped around his waist after pulling you by the ankles. His presence was commanding. You knew to keep your arms to your side, hands forbidden from obstructing the view of your hard, throbbing cock.

“No wonder you’re so stressed. Look how hard you are.” Dick muttered, seemingly speaking his inner thoughts because he was too distracted by the veins of your erection. Thick and pulsing as he wrapped a hand around you, and stroked, fascinated by the stretch of foreskin unfolding from the head of your cock when he pulled back, then rolling back up when he pulled forward. “This okay?”

“Fuck—Yeah… Feels good.” One arm was raised to wipe the cold sweat off your forehead,  but it then rested against your forehead, shielding yourself from Dick’s gaze as he slowly pumped you back into breaking another round of sweat.

“No,” He paused, suddenly squeezing your foreskin over the tip of your swollen glans. You whimpered. Not only did he squeeze you tight, stripping you of a friction that you desperately had been needing more of. But Dick was teasing, threatening with the dull movement of his thumb as he pressed and rubbed into the fold of skin, polishing the head of your cock  in a thick sheen of pre-cum as his grip would draw out a generous amount from beneath. “I want to see you properly. Look at me.”

You reluctantly met his demands, only after you felt the tip of his thumb prying into your slit. Was this supposed to be a punishment? Because you could’ve allowed it to go on for longer, knowing how much Dick marveled at how much pre-cum you were leaking out.

Your body felt hot, and your hands—they needed something to hold, something to grip. When Dick began resorting to quicker strokes to your cock, you were clawing at the mat at first, etching your presence with indentations of your nails as your warning came in vain. “I’m going to cum if you keep doing that, Dick—“ 

“Use your words I’m telling you.” He spat in his palm after a millisecond of a break before lubing your cock in his own spit and churning you into the tight, yet slippery friction of his fist. Dick’s gaze had been fixated on you, never once had it torn away to look at something else. Not even a peek at your cock deliciously fucking into his fist. Because in case you forgot, he liked figuring you out. “Gotta communicate with me.”

The stoicism you had worn with pride, only ever fragmenting from anger upon defeat; Dick had discovered another facet to its escalating submission, and it was delightful watching you unravel in real-time. The slick of his hands; one beating off your cock while the other massaging your balls; your expressions had given yourself away on how to break you down. Maybe it was because you had given up keeping up the facade. Or maybe it was because it was Dick, who has done more than enough to earn your trust, that you found yourself nearly crumbling.

He had studied you, his hands continuing to wander, explore every part of you while silently cataloging the right spots to make you crack. You were close, hanging off the edge with one hand, nails dulling over a cliff as you desperately prevented gravity from pulling you down under. When his hand had left your balls in favor of suddenly pushing a finger inside of your tight hole, Dick knew you had completely submitted.

Your body was writhing, hips desperately thrusting in the air despite Dick pinning them down to properly stretch your hole and fill you up with another finger, and another. Your expressions were ravishing, conflicted with pleasure and tension, and your mouth opened to politely tell Dick to stop, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to utter the demand. Instead, all that came out of your mouth was a whimper of his name, a stutter that rang delectably in Dick’s ears when he interrupted you with a deep push of his fingers, curling and then pumping in and out of you, and another whimper would secure the deft removal of the rest of his shorts and briefs. All because he couldn’t contain himself anymore. 

He had absolutely no right to teach you about control, for the reason that he was on the brink of losing it himself. You looked absolutely wrecked, all from the stubborn grip around your cock, the tight fit of his fingers, and Dick couldn’t imagine what you’d look like if he was in you, his thick cock fucking you, making love to you.

“Seriously, Dick—I’m about to—“

You couldn’t help it. Dick’s demand to control yourself was absolutely absurd with his reign on your body. The wet, sticky sound his spit made as Dick’s fist was being screwed by your pulsing cock drove you nuts. And then came the view of Dick’s thick cock, throbbing, pre-cum dripping heavily off of his swollen head as he watched you untouched, begging to be touched. You swore you almost surrendered had it not been for his wrist slowing down, a delicacy you begged prior, but now desperately wanted to vanish.

“God, you know I always loved it whenever you accidentally let a smile slip. But this? You’re so beautiful like this, (M/N).” He paused despite your silent pleas for him to otherwise. Though, all was forgiven when he leaned forward to kiss you on the lips. Sweet and bountiful like his words had made you feel, and you kissed him right back, an eagerness compared to his own movements, but then gratefully countered with an impatient swipe at your crack. His cock, plump and heavy, then wet and sticky as he smeared his pre-cum over your hole. Your legs remained wrapped around his hips, but Dick pushed his body weight forward until they folded with your knees touching your chest, his cock dangerously pressing at your entrance.

Dick spat in his palm again, reaching down to coat himself in the sticky layer of spit, and you felt him press. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, anticipating with an accelerating drum of your heart as he teased, slicking your pucker with the gentle, smooth circling of his tip.

“Please… I need it.” You had a gentle grasp around his nape, pulling him down until his forehead rested against yours. You’ve never seen him like this, so up-close and intimate. A mole, a freckle on his face that you’d never noticed, and you instantly yearned for what could’ve been all this time, had it not been for your stubbornness.

“What do you need? You need me inside of you?” Dick clarified against your lips, a whisper into your mouth as you parted them open to welcome his tongue. Hot and heavy, you let your tongue wrap around his for a tingling moment before pulling away, a string of spit webbing a path between your lips and his. “Use your words.”

“Need your cock, need you… Need everything. As long as it’s you.” You marveled at Dick, drunk off of the mutual endearment you have for each other. He regarded you with a warm smile, followed by a dazzling glint within his gaze, then relayed the turn of his mouth to yours with another kiss, a gentle warning, before Dick pushed his hips forward and slipped his cock inside of you.

“Good boy.”

“O-oh, fuck.” 

Your body tensed as soon as you took the first inhale of breath since he’d breached you, sharp and abrupt, just like the pain that had jolted the muscles in your body to squeeze around him. You were playing defense, impeding the foreign introduction inside of your body with a clamp, yet Dick resisted. Rather, he thrived on your strain, adoring the suctioning feeling of his cock as if you were conflicted about inviting him in or pushing him out. It didn’t take much to figure out that it was the former. During the meantime you were adjusting to his cock, Dick was thrusting the few inches that had slid inside of you. Small and short movements to aid in your stretch, and then eventual pleasure as he gradually pushed himself deeper until you’d blossom completely open for him, like a bud in the Spring.

“Fuck, you’re so tight… So good, your ass is so good.” He was satisfied with half of his cock inside of you, rocking into you slowly until you felt comfortable enough to have him harder, faster. Till then, it was perfect like this. Breathing in your whimpers, holding your face like it was the last vestige of your sanity, before kissing you again, sweet on the mouth, tender with your tongue, to hold a fragment of your sanity within him and sealing it where no one could ever take it from him.

“T-too big, Dick—Fuck…” You whimpered again, closing your eyes from the uncomfortable detection of already feeling completely full, yet you and Dick both knew it wasn’t a complaint. Rather, it was a simple observation that had rendered you speechless, an inkling you’d disappoint Dick for not being able to take him properly, to not let him in like you had done for all these months.

“You’re doing great, baby. Doing so good… You can take it, I know you can.” His words were so warm, so kind, so gentle in your ear, low and sinking in your neck as he marked you as his with constant licks and kisses, and immediately, he dialed up your confidence by tenfold. You felt yourself relaxing, the tension in your body melting the longer he rocked half of his cock into you.

Just breathe. Breathe. You found it helpful following Dick’s breathing pattern, exhaling when he pulled out, inhaling when he pushed in, and gradually, you felt yourself opening up for him, taking him in longer strides, with little breaks, faster, harder, until you felt thoroughly plugged when he pushed once more to cork his cock inside of you, balls-deep.

“S-shit, Dick—Fuck—So good—“

Dick trembled with a moan sinking into the underside of your jaw. His cock had never felt so wanted, so warm in another’s body. You took him in without a single complaint, and it was a spectacle, an absolute wonder when Dick leaned back to watch himself completely unsheathe out of you like a dagger out of its scabbard. 

“Look at that… Fucking beautiful.” Your hole was gaped open with the diameter matching the girth of Dick’s cock. Blinking, puckering desperately as it painfully endured the loss of heat, the loss of his desire. You’d never felt so exposed, completely powerless as Dick had you bending your legs further back with one hand, and the other spreading your cheeks apart to further see how much more you could stretch. 

The color of your flesh was enthralling, and if the marks on your neck had not been telling that you were Dick’s; he pressed a kiss to your pucker, gentle nibbling and licking at the puffy rim before abruptly spitting inside of you, and another for good measure, the glorious designation would remind you now.

“Dick—No more, I need you, please—“ You reached down to spread your pucker with the spit dribbling out of you using two fingers, then pulled back to taste him, sucking on them before your craving for Dick would return with a vengeance, body-writhing and mind-numbingly so.

“Tell me. What do you need, hm?” Dick tapped his cock against your hole. The plump head slid smooth over the spit-covered flesh, mixing with his pre-cum, while he watched you with a grin, each swipe of his cock taunting to pull completely away unless you spoke.

“Need you. Inside of me. Fucking me. Holding me. Kissing me. Touching. I don’t know—Please, please. Just need you.” Your wishes were long-winded, but sincere. The gaze you had given him, an imploring look that Dick would take a moment to hold for a little longer despite your begging.  Cherishing it, not knowing if this would be a fluke you’d later regret down the line, but in the end, all that mattered was that  you let your guards down at the mercy of Dick’s guidance. Then utterly defenseless, when he gave into your wishes, a chaste kiss to your lips while doing so, and pushed himself deep inside of you with one smooth thrust.

You stiffened in Dick’s arms when they slipped around you, digging your nails into his skin. Squeezing his waist with your legs, you held onto him when he pushed the rest of his body weight over you, bending you further while keeping his lips connected to yours. He was stabilized on the tip of his toes, thrusting into, past, and against your inner muscles all at once. You clenched around his cockhead, the pleasure unbearable to resist as each dip of his hip successfully knocked a gasp from your mouth. 

“So good, so tight like this…” Dick’s cock was in heaven, burying you deep until his heavy balls pressed flushed to your taint. He would stay motionless whenever he did; to catch up on his breath, to draw out his nearing high for a little longer, and to feel you, luxuriate in the warmth of your walls squeezing him tight, pulsing with dilemma, and ultimately refusing to let go. “Think I can come just like this, you squeezing my cock…”

He looked down at your face, a brief check-up. Your lips moved as if you were about to say something, but no sound came out. Only a stutter of a gasp, little sounds that Dick found incredibly magnetic, to which he found increasingly difficult to keep his lips off of you. He failed with little effort on his end, in hopes to steal those tiny sounds and keep it for himself. 

Your pupils were blown when they weren’t rolling back from the smallest movement of Dick’s hips. In addition, with your lips swollen and lids heavy, you gazed up at Dick like he had saved your life, as if he had guided you towards a better place. Your life seemingly were in his hands as he held your cheeks and kissed you once more. Sweet again, rocking into you steadily, sweat sticking his skin to yours. 

And maybe he did.

“Say something. I want to hear you.” A merciful demand upon your lips. You were trembling, barely swallowing down moans while Dick continuously impaled you with his cock—up into you now, when Dick leaned back until he was sitting up, and brought you back onto his lap like before, pushing your hips towards the rate of his thrusts.

Mesmerized by Dick, your mouth parted open and your throat immediately began emptying itself of all the harbored moans and groans that you had been holding hostage. “F-fuck me, keep fucking me. L-like that. No—Harder, harder—“ They rattled in volume, bouncing in sync with the way your ass had been doing against Dick’s cock, and then louder, because your marvelous sounds emerged an addiction out of Dick.

Sweet Jesus. He couldn’t stop. Watching the desire in your beautiful features, hearing your pleas reflect your want, stroking your cock awaiting for its release, marking every flesh of your skin his mouth had come in contact with. At the level of intimacy; from the pull of Dick’s hair, the sloppy, open-mouthed kisses you two shared, and the mutual passion you had for each other; you no longer felt like his disciple, but rather, an equal to Dick’s being—a derivative blessing, that would course correct each other’s life.

Your hands could barely hold onto his shoulders, but you worked with your strength, the slip of his skin, and locked your hands around his nape. Forehead to forehead, you and Dick breathed moans into each other, heavy and thick with yearning as you two pressed close, stuck to each other like glue. He cataloged the tiniest details on how your face contorted with pleasure; the scrunch of your nose, the roll of your eyes, the part of your lips. Your fist tightened around your cock, pumping it rapidly to the pace of Dick’s thrusts, churning it until your biceps had distractingly flared with veins. 

You did the same. You watched Dick’s mouth agape with rapture. The scrunch of his brows when he fucked into you faster and to the root. The clench of his jaw when you squeezed tight around him, suctioning his cock until he sounded delirious with pleasure. It was beautiful. He was beautiful, and you knew he found you beautiful as well, the beautiful loss of reality from the mutual pleasure, and that was all it took to make you spill your load without a single warning. 

You smashed a guttural groan to his lips and unraveled your fingers, leaning your body back to let your cock release where it pleased to afterward. “Oh, fuck—“ 

“Holy shit.”

Thick shots rained on Dick’s sweaty body. Three spurts to the center of his chiseled chest, and then another four splashing high in the air when Dick powered up on the sight of your cum alone, and drilled you harder, your cock dribbling in cum as he did so. His nails dug into your ass cheeks, spreading them apart, then cushioning them back around his cock to somehow press your walls against every vein pulsing through the thick of his erection.

Dick fucked you like you’d begged him to. Long, strong thrusts, to the brim on each stroke, undoubtedly hitting your prostate at every turn from the way you would jolt forward with widened, rattling, yet blissful eyes. A sight Dick would have forever ingrained into his memory, because you were officially, utterly, and completely wrecked.

It was heaven. The crown of Dick’s cock sliding over the spot, the depth of his cock rendering you immobile and dazed. Again, he’d repeat. A new addiction, surging powerfully through his veins. You let out a sob. 

Again. You squeezed your eyes shut. 

Again. You dug your nails into his shoulders. 

And again. Dick smacked your ass at the delirious state he was in. He had completely breached inside of you, explored every inch of your hole with the circle of his hips. A thrust. A slam. A rut. He had traversed through every option to dismantle you, and like clockwork, your snug hole all but sucked on his cock, begging for him to come inside.

He couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Baby, baby…” Dick’s large hand smothered his warmth around your throat. You could feel the callous in his palm, a gentle abrasion to your smooth skin, and he rubbed your seed all over your body, then his. He fucked harder to the sight of the sticky sheen layering your body. The smell of musk. The stick to his hands. Filthy. Your body and his were filthy together. Filthier, when pleasure burst from the base of his shaft, and in turn, flooded your insides with a large load. He moaned, and you arched into him, into the stick of his body, anticipating for the rupture of your doing. 

Your cock throbbed once, straining forward with its swollen head aiming towards the ceiling, and you spat thick shots of white seed into the air, eventually course-correcting to land on your body and Dick’s.

It was wonderful. You could feel Dick’s cock pulse as his seed rushed up the shaft and buried you deep into your guts with thick and heavy shots. Upon impulse, you squeezed as well, clamping around the peak of DIck’s orgasm until it must have crested with the stillness of his breath. “Don’t pull out.”

“Wasn’t planning on it…”

If he hadn’t thought it enough, you were beautiful, he was keen on calling it a mantra because it meant that he was still here, on this very earth, breathing and witnessing your very existence. Your body was weakened, barely mustering the strength to hold your chest up without the aid of Dick’s arms around you. Limp, after your second orgasm. All of you, you were so beautiful. From your rim hugging the base of your cock, your softening cock dripping, your swollen nipples, the smooth planes of your cum-stained chest, and parted lips. You were a banquet to Dick’s eyes, a feast that could muster up another around to have at you, to have you completely devoured if he had really wanted to.

But no, this was perfect. Watching you in silence, surveying up at you while you peered down at him, panting, breathing slow, in a case of wonder of how one could have such an effect on him without a morsel of effort. 

“So… lessons? You always do this to new recruits?”

“Only if they absolutely suck at their role.” An exhaustion in his smile, you wanted to capture it in between your lips, and replenish him with gratitude.

“Hey— Asshole…” You muttered, a gentle knock to his chest, to which he laughed off, and then held on, to pull you in for a blissful kiss.

With the way you fit into his arms as if you’d always been meant to be there, warm where he was cold, and cold where you were warm, he knew he didn’t need his question answered.

“Kidding. Let’s just say… it was curated for a special someone. And hopefully, they liked it as much as I liked teaching it.”

“I have a good feeling that they did.” 

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

Fanfiction is becoming people’s primary form of entertainment right now because most media right now is so cheap, bland, recycled, and sponsored by people who love money more than the source material. Fanfiction is written for free by people who genuinely love what they’re writing about. That’s why it’s better. That’s why it’s more satisfying. Fanfiction is a home-cooked meal made for yourself and for your friends. Media today is junky fast food spoiled by too much grease and the knowledge that the people producing it are being criminally mistreated and underpaid. 

another reminder to stop buying/watching/reading anything JK Rowling associated

stop making fanfics about characters raping and sexually assaulting y/n, you are fucking disgusting people who romanticize a serious crime that happens every day to children and women

"but that's just reading dark romance" that's not a dark romance, that's just the stuff of a horrible fetish, IF YOU HAVE A RAPE FETISH, GO SEEK FOR FUCKING PSYCHIATRIST HELP!!!!!!!!!!

I haven't purchased a HP item in close to a decade - I use the books I already had as doorstops or to prop a laptop up for meetings nowadays.

There is NO "death of the author" with JK Rowling - she controls and continues to profit from her IP, and uses that money to fund hate groups.

Pajiba

How Many More Times Can We Say It? Your Harry Potter Addiction Is Funding Transphobia

When one person can give £70,000 to a hate group's legal funds, maybe it's time to bin the Dobby plushies.

pro-AI in the sense of "they taught a bread scanning computer to recognize cancer cells" etc etc

against AI in the sense of "we stole artwork from hundreds to thousands of artists, didn't credit them and didn't financially compensate them"

what is it with the cod fandom and rape

genuinely dont think ive ever seen as much non-con and just blatantly labelling characters as rapists as often as i do in the cod tags

hello?? whats hot abt being violated?? pls enlighten me

like, I genuinely don't care lmfao like, yeah, explore dark subjects and themes within your writing by all means bc there's loads of good books out there that do exactly that (American Psycho, Lolita, Fight Club, the Dexter Morgan series, etc), but there's a huge difference between, like, genuinely dark content that involves heavy subjects and themes but doesn't romanticise or glorify them, and content which does.

like, the very second that you decide that shit like rape, molestation, incest, pedo bullshit and all that other fuckin bollocks is acceptable to write as wank material - you immediately lost all integrity and ability to call it art lmao it's not art, it's a piss poor excuse to get off to heinous bullshit that's genuinely harmful. fantasy doesn't exist in a fuckin vacuum and you cunts have GOT to accept that, the same as you have GOT to accept that, yeah, what happens in fiction DOES have an impact on real life - or are you daft cunts gonna sit there and say that propaganda isn't real? or that the Jaws Effect isn't real? are you genuinely gonna look me in the eyes and tell me that the media had NO PART in the dehumanisation and demonisation of Arab men? or that the media had NO PART in the fear mongering and demonisation of queer people?

like, fuckin please. I ain't no fuckin prude, but like, some of you cunts think that art means a viable and justified way to produce what's literally kiddie porn and rape porn, and you fuckin ran w it even tho, if anyone irl SAW THAT SHIT, they'd be disgusted. bc it's NOT "dark fic", it's NOT "dark art", or whatever the fuck you wanna call it - it's a fuckin gross, and it's extremely harmful. there's NOTHING romantic or cute or hot about rape, molestation, incest, OR fuckin pedo bollocks. literally nothing.

oh yeah i love reading (fan-fictions to dissociate).

Study Dates | Johnny Cage

“I’m sat right next to you, why are you sending me memes?” With Johnny cage? // ANONYMOUS

There were times when you loved study dates with Johnny, when he would bring a pizza over and sit on your bed as you sat doing revision at your desk, but there were also times when you hated them; he would still keep up the tradition of pizza and sitting on your bed, but he would constantly blow your phone up with memes. Just to see you smile, to see you laugh. 

With ‘Hollywood’ by Marina playing from your game console, you shook your head at the seemingly non-stop vibrations of your phone, causing you to turn to your boyfriend with a frown. 

“Johnny, I love you, but I’m sat right next to you, why are you sending me memes?” 

Johnny smiled, shrugging a little and relaxing against your stack of pillows, tossing his phone down beside his legs. “It’s been three hours, (y/n), don’t you think it’s time to take a break?” 

You shook your head, running a hand through your hair and staring at your laptop, asking yourself why endoparasites were so hard to revise. “I need to get this done, the exam’s on Monday, and I can’t risk failing.” 

Frowning at the words you did not speak, the anxiety that was evident in your eyes and in your tone, the nervousness and stress that he saw when your hands shook at the keyboard and the aggravated patches on your arms where you had been scratching; he stood up, getting off of your bed and choosing to stand beside you, his hands on your shoulders as he hummed. 

“You deserve a break, baby, you’re not gonna get anywhere if you keep stressing yourself out… come on, we’ll watch that thing you told me about on Netflix.” 

You yearned to join him, you really did, but when you saw how many more pages you had left to read and make notes on, you let out a defeated whine. “As much as I’d love that, I can’t… I got so much to do, and I can’t-” 

“Come on, you know you want to,” he pleaded. 

“Johnny…” you leaned into his touch and did your best to put temptation aside. 

“You’re taking a break,” Johnny growled, using that stern and dominant tone that he knew made your knees weak and your teeth bite your lip, reaching forward so he could close the laptop. “You can come back to it later, okay?” 

You nodded, clearing your throat and looking up at him with a slight lust in your eyes. “Okay.” 

he’s so pookie coded

i just think that it would be funny for male reader to flirt with miguel but exclusively by calling him shit like babygirl, mamas, mamacita, and a milf. just a thought though.

Hey Mamas - Miguel O'Hara x male! reader headcanons+drabble

So I really just went with it and tried to make it as realistic as possible, anyways, Miguel is so bbg and I love him <3

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

Miguel pretends to hate it, like outwardly he genuinely looks so pissed

But secretly, he kind of likes it, he thinks it’s funny at the bare minimum

Has totally considered responding to them in non-serious ways

He would never admit to liking them though, utterly ashamed that he enjoys them at all

Imagine walking into his little platform office room and just going “hey mamas” to see him look away from his screens to give you the harshest glare he’s ever given, with the faintest blush on his cheeks

Like almost impossible to see faint, but if you look hard enough it’s there

His favorite would probably be Mamacita or Mami

He would totally tolerate the rest and barely tolerates Babygirl

“Hey, Mamas! How’s it going?” Walking into the room that he had essentially claimed as his office, (y/n) called out to him with a box of empanadas in hand as a peace offering. 

“What do you want (y/n)?” He didn’t even look away from the screens, Miguel knew he was just trying to flirt with him, and he didn’t want to show it was working at all. 

“I’ve got empanadas for you” swinging up to the floating platform to stand next to Miguel, (y/n) offers out the to-go box in his hand to the taller man with a smirk. Miguel looked over at it and his expression softened ever so slightly as he took the box.

“Que maravilla” Looking back to the screens he opened it and started to eat one of them.

“Anything for my favorite babygirl” Knowing he was treading on thin ice, (y/n) quickly gave Miguel one last smile before swinging off the platform and out of the room. Despite his hate for the nickname, Miguel couldn’t help but smile slightly to himself at the thought of it.

“Favorite babygirl…he’ll be the death of me”

does anyone else find the concept of writing fan fiction for real-world people (like celebrities) weird? Especially if they’re on the internet a lot and might see that stuff related to them. Like I used to read hella bts fanfics but then I realized that 1.) I don’t know how they really act outside of the public eye- and likely neither does the writer, and 2.) writing smut???? Imagine you go on the internet to find thousands of people imagining you in that way without ur consent….like 😭

LIKE IF YOUVE EVER SEEN THOSE VIDEOS WHERE YOUTUBERS READ FANFICS ABOUT THEM AND THEY CRINGE??? that got me to stop reading that typa stuff fr

" I don't always like the things I have to do. " | Miguel O'Hara x male (villain) reader.

Ik he's been through so much, but why not put him through alittle more? Angst NO COMFORT, Unknown identities, identities are eventually discovered. Reader is based off the Prowler, Remember Miguel doesn't have a no killing rule? mhm. Blood and cuts mentioned! 1k words , Male reader , No NSFW mentioned, Minors DNI.

A small click sounded from your clawed glove as you disconnected it from your suit, placing it onto the table lightly as you looked around your base with narrowed eyes. Jesus, was it gloomy in here. You thought to yourself, taking off your mask as you gasped in fresh air.

You could finally go back to your apartment, and live your relatively normal life with your beautiful boyfriend. Aside from the fact you were literally the fucking Prowler. But only when you were called out. You had a debt with your boss, and if you didn't repay it, he'd threaten to hurt you or your loved ones. Yeah, Nueva York criminals were real predictable with their circumstances.

Only thing you'd have to do was work for him as a criminal for the rest of your life which was very likely to be cut short because of your ' job path '.

Wasn't that a pain in the ass?

You suddenly heard a rustle behind you, you instantly tensed up as you quickly pulled your mask down, grabbing ahold of the heavy glove as you clicked it back on as you spun around, meeting your eyes with a muscular man in a blue suit with red markings was sitting on one of the poles, sharp talons digging into the metal to hold himself.

You audibly groaned as you recognized the man who'd been watching you. Spiderman. He man who'd gotten close several times to capture you. God, you hoped this would be one of those times too. " Prowler. How about we make this easy on the both of us and let me take you in without a fight? " He offered, jumping down as his muscles were very clearly tensed as he took steps toward you.

Even if he asked to take you in easily, he knew you weren't gonna do that. " Sorry, Spiderman. I got my own thing to do. " You mumbled, voice distorted, listening to the light whir of your mechanical gloves as you leaped forward, Spiderman moving swiftly to the side as you turned sharply on your heel. " Why can't you leave me the hell alone? " You scoffed, twisting your neck enough for it to crack.

" Its kinda my job to take down criminals, if you didn't know. " He replied snarkily, picking up on the light accent which coated his voice. You stood up straight, nodding your head upward in a " come on, then " motion. You could almost hear the annoyed sigh which came from the stupidly tall man.

Spiderman jumped forward before you could react, grabbing ahold of your throat as he slammed you against the wall, feeling sharp talons against the sides of your throat as you lifted your legs upto his abdomen, kicking him back. He grunted as his claws scrape against your neck, ripping the fabric of your mask that went down to your collarbones as you felt a sharp stinging sensation.

You gasped as you felt blood start to instantly rush out of your cuts, shaking your blood as you focused on the problem infront of you instead of the one on you. ' Asshole. ' You muttered, quietly to yourself. You lunged forward quickly as you dragged your own metal glove across his face as you landed one, two, three punches successfully. Spiderman gasped out, grabbing your wrist before you could punch him a fourth time.

You tried to tug your arm out of his grip, panic starting to settle in the pit of your stomach. Spiderman twisted your arm sharply, feeling your ligament tear as you let out a muffled cry, the distortion making it sound eerie. You looked at the blue and red suited man, your pupils dilated as you used your other arm to cut at his abdomen, long red lines dragging from his chest down to his hip.

He loosed his grip slightly which gave you an opportunity to quickly pull your arm away from him, flinching at the pain before quickly recovering. You stared at Spiderman who was examining his wounds before jumping back at him, rolling for a moment in a struggle before pinning him down. Your fear starting to settle down, your mind instantly starting to fill with rage as you looked down at him, grabbing ahold of his throat before he could get back up, slamming him down against the concrete floor.

Spiderman choked out violently, a cough erupted as the back of his head hit the hard surface, a throbbing sensation starting to form in his head as his vision became fuzzy. You started to claw at his suit aggressively, cuts and scrapes starting to appear on his body before you tightened the grip on Spidermans throat. His chest heaved heavily as you did so, you started to punch at his face instead, small tears starting to form as your metal fist met with his cheek time and time again.

Until there was a hole large enough that you could see an eye.

An eye so painfully familiar.

The eyes that would normally make your heart swell with adoration and with happiness, instead caused your heart to drop.

Was it? It couldn't be. Miguel was at work, your beautiful, adoring boyfriend was at work. He couldn't be the Spiderman you're punching the life out of. Right?

...

Right?

No, it wasn't right. The soft wrinkle in the corner of his eyes when he normally smiled was now crinkled in pain. It was him. It was Miguel O'hara. The man you fell in love with.

You pulled back your hands instantly, panic and worry starting to fill your brain as you cried out, feeling several sharp talons in between the heavy chestplate and the plate which covered your back, digging into your stomach. Letting out shallow breathes as you shakily looked down to the source of the pain, you saw Spidermans, or rather Miguels, claws digging into you, pushing further into you until he was at his second knuckle.

You fell on your side off of him, your legs curling upto your stomach as pain took over your entire body, you glanced at Miguel, watching him flinch as he stood up shakily. ' He's hurt. ' You thought to yourself, trying to make yourself sit up as you took off your glove, holding your bare hand against the stab wound. You sat up against your elbow, looking up at Miguel desperately.

As much pain he was in, he still had his intimidating build, slightly hunched over as he glared down at you. " Are you done yet? " He spat, venom dripping from his voice. You instantly realized the severity of your situation. He didn't know who you were, you just beat the fuck out of him, and he doesn't have a problem with killing. You held your bloody hand out shakily up to him, signaling him to wait, stopping him in his tracks.

You slowly brought a hand to press a button on your voice changer, bringing it back to your normal voice. " Miguel. " You groaned quietly in pain, moving back to apply pressure on the wound. Just as yours did, his heart dropped. He let out a small gasp, the voice was shaky and obviously not the same as you sounded when you were happy, but it sounded like it was you. Was it?

He instantly slid down to his knees at your side, taking off your mask as his heart pounded so hard he was sure you could hear it too. Much to his misfortune, it was you. Miguel took his own mask off, bruises and cuts were scattered all over, but his focus was no longer on his pain. He cradled you in his arms, resting your back against his forearm.

" Hey, hey (Name). Mírame. You're gonna be okay, I promise. Fuck, I'm sorry. " He apologized, worry coating his words. You only looked at him with hazy eyes, nodding as best you could. Yeah, you were definitely bleeding out. You concluded, looking at the puddle of blood on the floor. " I'm gonna get you to a hospital, Love. Just hang on. " He ordered, gulping as he put his mask back on, picking you up bridal style.

How did he always manage to hurt the ones he loved?

why do I feel horrible now 💀

you know what bothers me the most about the way you, readers, treat writers on here? it’s the fact that you have the fucking nerve (and time!) to demand, disrespect, send hate and so on to these kind souls but won’t use those lazy fingers for less than a fucking second to reblog the damn fic (that, mind you, must’ve taken days to be written, edited and revised) you just finished consuming.

do you see this? this is your doing. so next time you wonder why a writer hasn’t posted/updated a fic, i want you to know exactly whose fault that is.

fanfic culture has been dying for years now, and that is on every single one of you who do not bother to support the people who keep your favorite fan spaces alive for free.

before you leave this post, i want you to ask yourself this: if you were in the shoes of the artists that post here, how would you feel if your art was consumed like a fucking tiktok and then instantly forgotten with not a single ounce of feedback for the thing you spent so much time working on? it’s not so easy when it happens to us, huh?

as sad as it makes me to see people i admire leaving, i honestly feel relieved for them. why? because no one deserves to be treated like this. and before you dare to think to yourself “this isn’t affecting me, why should i care?”, remember: the person responsible for sharing your favorite content on here might be the next one leaving.