#fw it hardcore

[mygnolia]

FUCKKK I ATE THIS BANNER AND NOW I CANT HELP BUT SHOW IT OK FUCK IT IM SHOWING IT (spiderman niki au)

OH MY GODFFFDF

its here

[07043012]

Gun need to get his eyes checked because idk what did he see in this old man

[natsu12291]

Heya ;3

[fernisfat]

you guys want poorly lit 2 a.m. nudes, right??

[miakwat]

My formatting teacher asking if “any of [us] read or write fanfiction” is the funniest thing to happen in term one because ive never been in a silence so loud

[secretsofanympho]

Yo yo,,super important question for the gay girlies

[oddvanilla]

Our music taste is SO close yet so far... like the vibe is there dw I listen to music about guns too but in the classic form (rap)

need music recs guys. i need to lengthen my playlist. give me songs or artists. fuuck you could even link your whole ass playlist i donf care im desperate.

[semataryyyy]

https://open.spotify.com/album/6oK8qyQAKw4HHgynTcn2Qa?si=YnAlmhwrRZS7SWFGW3tuRA

same dude that asked if you like hardcore punk and stuff, i think you'll fw this ep it's one of my favs from warthreat

I didn’t Like it I Need Melody

i like anti cimex Tho cus It sounds Raw N alien N I can’t tell How It was made Like I can w A lot of newer Music

[l0vem41l]

something's wrong with the morning.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited 2 the max, potentially ooc but WHO GAF (me. igaf), he misreads tone over text and it's totally not me projecting, bros just a little anxious and its totally not me projecting, richard "acts of service" grayson in the real, pretty heavily romantic implied but it can be interpreted as platonic becuz we fw that here!!!!! 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. richard "dick" grayson/nightwing

author's note: yes i am uh. doing More dc stuff. guys im really sorry but its literally leeching off my brain like a parasite i fear. enjoy!!!!!!! ♪(´▽｀) <3 the lyric below is what i based this off of but as usual, GENDER NEUTRAL READER!!!

"and how something's wrong with the morning / when he doesn't phone to say he loves me"

dick has been staring at the text since the minute he received it.

“gm.”

you sent two letters. and a period at the end.

immediately, there's a weird feeling he gets— a pit forming in the depths of his stomach as he reads it over and over again, as if he expects it to magically change in front of his eyes.

you usually send something… more in the morning. you greet him happily and use a silly nickname, he greets you and uses a silly nickname back. it's sort of tradition for the two of you, mainly built on the fact that him being a vigilante leaves very little time for the two of you.

so what the hell happened to that tradition? where’s his “good morning pookie!” or “hope you slept well, sunshine :]” that he's grown so accustomed to?

of course, he has to go on with his day like usual. at least, he's trying his best. to his credit, he does pretty well. after all, dick grayson is a performer at heart! even if it secretly feels like a part of his world just collapsed in on itself, he does not sulk about it.

but to the observant, there's obviously been a shift.

the slightly irritable mood he’s been in? definitely normal. the fact that he’s been swiping away every notification with disinterest if it’s not you? totally nothing.

more astute criminals in blüdhaven are a little off put by the fact that nightwing is still at full quip capacity while hitting just a little harder and being just a teeny bit more bitchy.

there nervous speculation going around that next week he'll be in the discowing fit

nightwing notices that his mask is slipping a bit. but does he care? well... not really. what's more important to him is what's going on inside his head. and he's been thinking— hardcore reflecting on every single recent previous interaction with you, looking back to everything that must’ve made things go wrong.

maybe he should’ve let you win that one argument last monday, even though he’d been pretty certain he was right because you really aren't supposed to stack cards in uno that way.

or maybe “anything’s fine” as a response to you asking what he wanted for dinner was the wrong move— he knew you hated when he didn’t help your indecisiveness.

was it the movie he picked for movie night on your hangout? fuck, that might've been it, you totally hate the main actor. how could he have forgotten?

either way, he’s dead set on the fact he did something to piss you off and now you won’t even greet him good morning.

later in the afternoon, you find a cute little basket on your doorstep containing your favorite flowers, your favorite snacks… and an apology note??

“dick,” you message, “what’s going on?”

he doesn’t reply back. instead, he calls you.

before you can even greet him, his voice chimes in with a whole spiel you didn't expect to be hit with.

“i messed up. i know i did and i should've done better. and i’m so sorry, i wanna make this work and i just— from the bottom of my heart— i really, truly apologize—”

you blink several times at your phone before interrupting. “oookay, woah, woah, woah. let's slow down. the fuck are you apologizing for?”

“...your message this morning.” he mumbles out, barely audible. you can hear the pout in his voice somehow.

“what? the one i typed up while rushing to work?” it’s hard to stifle your laughter. “dude, i just woke up a little late. i promise i still love you.”

he doesn't know whether to feel more relieved that you're not actually upset with him or embarrassed about the drastic, immediate measures he took to make things right. things being absolutely nothing, because obviously you weren't gonna be petty over uno rules, nondecisions, or movies.

"you should come over. we can share the snacks if you get here in time." click.

he'll be at your door the minute patrol is done. not for the snacks though it is a nice bonus but to see you. lord knows you need the time together.

— reblogs always appreciated!

[sacred-portal]

ur strange azf and i fw u hardcore

Thank you!!!!!

[megabuild]

scott maybe if tubbo has found you its a good thing hes kind of like you in a way he can identify etho videos from shitty vague descriptions

honestly i think we could get along idk anything about him but i can fw a hardcore ethogirl. im kinda like etho too i have shitty white hair and wear a mask sometimes. tubbo fall in love with me

[hemipenal-system]

👋 some words at the beginning (subject to change)

it's a great day to put your age in your bio!

this is a nsfw blog. minors ily but you gotta fuck off this isn’t for you.

flirt with me and die if i do not know you

posts here may include: bondage, primal stuff, petplay, praise/degradation, monsterfuckery, furry content, vore, breeding (but not pregnancy), cnc, all kinds of weird physical/mental shit

posts here will not include: scat, (human) feet (there may be rare mention of monster feet), vomit

ask etiquette: send me things! be nice though! also please no overtly sexual images of real people but other images are fine. i also love being tagged in things. i almost never rp with people though, if you have to ask if i’m comfortable doing that with you the answer is probably no.

if i open your blog and am immediately slammed with very very explicit untagged/flagged genitalia photos that may well constitute a block just heads up

i’m trans, so a significant portion of my content is gonna be aimed at trans people! misgendering me/characters is an instant block. we don’t fw that. also detrans kink blogs dni (you’re not doing anything wrong i just hardcore do not fuck with that)

please send asks i adore them!

(if you do it on anon theres a nonzero chance i block you though)

i think that’s everything! have fun!

[authorred]

Yandere Spencer Reid heacanons because I was inspired |Part 1|

Preface: It’s hard to imagine the upstanding, moral Spencer Reid as an obsessive, compulsive lover who would do anything and everything for your love. Lucky for you, I’m here to help you imagine.

Yandere!Spencer Reid is chefs kiss. Exactly what I need (and want awooga)

Part 2 here Part 3 here

Warning(s): Mentions of violence, stalking, kidnapping, psychological abuse, (un)willing reader (depends on if you fw this imagine), spiral into pure criminality

He is first horrified when he begins to feel the obsession or possession

When he first meets you is when he first begins to get those feelings

Tries his absolute hardest to logic his way out of it, or to control it, or to seek help

Tries his best to communicate to you as a healthy, normal person would, but he can’t help but find those thoughts creeping in again

He believes it’ll be better if you’re away from him, but his thoughts and feelings change to hardcore yearning

Knows it’s not love he’s feeling, and is potentially dangerous to you

Might spiral down into a breakdown (or a few) because of it

Will genuinely think of himself as a horrible person who thinks he can’t get help

If you try to help him he’ll vehemently decline it and will tell you it’s a bad idea

Others at the BAU try their hardest to help him, but the thoughts are still there

If Reid sees you interacting with someone who seems interested in you, his mind will implode

Will be constantly trying to justify the person’s ‘disappearance’ to himself for hours whilst alone

Will come up with the excuse that the person is dangerous to you, or has the potential to be (his calculations will be slightly skewed)

At first, he’ll ask Morgan or Hotch to help him ‘deal with’ the person, but since the person is literally innocent, they can’t do anything

He gets frustrated but brushes it off as paranoia

Spencer starts to find himself hovering near where your house is just to ‘check in’ on you to see if you’re alright

To him, he’s just being protective over you. He wants you safe

But he also knows if he springs all of his thoughts and worries on you, you’ll hate him

Whenever he thinks about you hating him he feels like he can’t breathe

He needs you to like him--love him, even

As weeks and months go by, he doesn’t fight his impulsive thoughts as much as before

Whenever you’re near, you have 100% of his attention. He barely looks away from you if you’re within his line of sight

He’s a nervous wreck when you talk

He’s scared he’ll mess up and say something that’ll fuck your friendship up

He’s not good at mincing words, so he has to carefully curate his sentences

When you smile or laugh at something he says, he feels high

When you mention someone who’s not a part of the BAU, that high disappears instantly

It’s replaced with a cold disinterest in whoever it is you’re speaking about

He tries to manipulate the conversation to see if he can pull more info out of you about the person

He takes advantage of his access to FBI equipment and software to find the person

He makes sure to cover his tracks thoroughly and will not rest until he’s sure any audit trail or history or whatever isn’t linked back to him

When he finds the person’s personal info, he finds himself ‘checking them out’

Will take walks in front of their house, or follow them

Does this for every person who’s not an overt threat

He will, however, drop whatever stalkerish shit he’s doing if you call or text him

If someone does ask you out, or you mention going on a date, or talking to a person of interest, haha

Someone’s going to die

Once Spencer gets the necessary information, he’ll stalk the person out

He might have a conversation with them, profile them, and then talk about their relationship to you

He’s more than likely not strong enough to physically overpower a person of above-average strength, but he’s got the brains to make the odds even

Will create an elaborate plan to get the person to come to him instead

Whenever he does manage to kidnap/isolate the person, he won’t kill them immediately

He’d have a genuine heart-to-heart with them

He’d say you’re his. He’ll say he’s yours, and whoever tries to take you away (be it romantically or otherwise) will be met with a steep response. He’ll say he loves you, and will do anything to be sure you’re with him, and only him

Probably kills the person by slitting their throat. A bullet is too easily identifiable

He’ll comfort you if you’re saddened by your date’s/person of interest’s disappearance

When you hug him, his entire body goes hot

He hugs you tightly (probably a bit too tight)

He verbally comforts you as best he can, and assures you you’ll go on other dates (hopefully with him)

He’ll gently rock you if you’re hugging for a long time

If you pull away first, he’ll try to keep you in the hug, but will let go if you push him away

He’ll let you sleep on him, and he’ll stare at you while you do

He’ll think to himself about how beautiful you are, and how you deserve everything, and how much you deserve him especially

He gets a lot pushier after that, especially when it comes to you getting close with others

Will physically hover closer to you

Will glower at anyone who looks at you a certain way

Will never let you privy to these thoughts and habits and behaviors of his until he’s sure you can handle/accept them

He will definitely try to gaslight you and/or emotionally manipulate you if he thought it’d make you like/trust him more

You’d trust him, most likely. He’s Spencer mf Reid, why wouldn’t you

He wouldn’t psychologically manipulate/abuse you that much, and wouldn’t physically put his hands on you unless he had to

He notices the obsessive and compulsive thoughts calm when he’s around you, so he wants you next to him almost 24/7

Gets very disenchanted and uninterested when you’re not around

The team believes him to be down bad

They think he’s a puppy in love with you and find it adorable

Will mention you often to get him engaged

Sometimes he’ll just push through a case due to the thought of seeing you after

If he gets injured on a case, his first and only thought would be his desire to not die and leave you behind. Anything else comes secondary

If you’re a mother figure, or give off ‘motherly’ vibes, that’ll make this worse

If you initiate any form of physical contact, he will beam

Literally treats you like an actual god(dess) (aside from the occasional emotional manipulation but yk)

[shouritsu]

I don’t fw the canon design too much (feminized, diff plastron from show, sudden round in sharp shape language etc) so far but I will see what I can adjust! Like making it a makeup thing and interpreting it as her self expression even behind mask got me 🧠 thonking . Not keeping that pink as the reg tho

I’ll properly draw her speaking asl when I have the time to put its necessary care!

what other nicknames could they give a Frida? Feel free to share hcs for that or any other in replies or tags or otherwise 🫡 more of mine below the cut too

she’s the carries too many weapons and gets backed up in security trope

makeup was one of her means of expression and yet also just hers, as she wore that mask mostly . Probably from imitating big mama too, perhaps she taught her early on

hence her bonding with Mikey first, expression was something she hadn’t been able to do in non combat ways a long time. But the battle one is equally important to her, and Casey and Raph get a new hardcore training partner

claws continue to be kept sharp as even with her battle skill with several weapons, it serves as an extra she can always keep on her. Quite possibly her main weapon when close enough

shes Team philosophical Lou Jitsu movies with April and Donnie

she calls the brothers colors like Dad does! Signing their color and having that be a shorthand

[sanityshorror]

AY YO, WHERE MY HORROR HOMIES AT?

WHERE MY HOMIES AT WHO FW THE FUCKED UP SHIT AND NOT THAT TAME STUFF?

WHERE MY EXTREME HORROR AND SPLATTERPUNK HOMIES AT?

IM DESPERATE FOR MORE HARDCORE HORROR MUTUALS

[tickly-tufts]

Entertainment (N$FW)

@tickles-tea ordered a MEAN serving of spice… so this one is for the hardcore 18+ knismos

—————

CONTAINS: bondage, nudity, non-consensual tickling, forced orgasm

—————

The Tickler.

He’d been knocked out and kidnapped by the Tickler.

Miguel had always known his luck was bad, but the multiverse had to be mocking him at that point. It’d looked like such an easy mission, too, which was why he’d opted to go alone… except this variant was no common thief. If only he'd realized before it was too late.

He didn’t know where the villain had taken him, but it must’ve been some kind of personal base. Heavy metal clamps had been locked around his limbs, raising his arms and spreading his legs into a kneel-like position. He was fully elevated off the ground, held slightly below his usual eye-level, and while his hands and feet were technically free, he couldn’t reach anything with his talons.

And as if all of that weren’t bad enough... he’d been stripped right down to his boxers. Lyla would never let him live this down… although, she'd have to reconnect with him first. Miguel felt a stab of unease at the thought.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, the Tickler making their official entrance. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting long! I was just gathering a few of my tools.” Miguel glanced warily at the bag in their hands, which they proceeded to set on a nearby table. Then they faced him, beaming brightly. It was as unsettling as it was irritating.

“Let me go,” Miguel snarled, flashing his fangs as a threat. Rather than being intimidated, though, his captor simply looked intrigued.

“And why would I do that?” they countered simply. “It was so much trouble getting you down here. But now I have you all to myself, and I intend to make the most of it~”

The tone in which those last words were delivered was almost enough to make Miguel shudder. Without his watch, his suit, or even his clothes, he knew he was in a dangerous position. Variants of the Tickler were generally just a nuisance, but this one had defied every convention thus far.

“What do you even want from me? Information? Ransom?”

“Entertainment.”

Of all the answers they possibly could’ve given… that one promised to be the worst.

—

The Tickler’s very first tools of choice were a pair of mini feather dusters. They fluttered them around Miguel’s neck first, pouting when Miguel refused to give in.

“Aw, don’t pretend it doesn’t tickle! I can see your mouth twitching. Being stubborn won’t help.” They scoffed when Miguel pressed his lips into a line. “Well, can’t say I didn’t give you fair warning.”

Miguel had hoped to hold out longer, but then the dusters were tickling right under his arms. The feathers were silky against his bare hollows. He promptly burst into a fit of giggles.

“That’s more like it!” the Tickler preened, speeding up when they noticed Miguel’s arms were shaking. “Those muscles aren’t doing much for you, huh? Sure made you look tempting, though,” they winked.

The feathers really shouldn’t have been that bad, and yet the light tickling soon proved to be maddening. Every fiber of Miguel’s being urged him to twist away, to just lower his arms… but the clamps held firm.

“Knohock it ohohoff!” he tried to growl, though the effect was ruined by his giggling.

“Hm? Did you wanna switch things up already?” The Tickler dropped both dusters… then dove in with their fingers.

“AGH!” Miguel choked, then burst into laughter, unable to resist the Tickler’s expert touch. Manicured nails scratched and skittered with glee, unhindered by the hero’s biceps straining above them. “Dohon’t- noHOHO!” The villain’s fingers vibrated against the center of each underarm. Just when Miguel thought to try and bite them, the Tickler’s hands migrated downwards.

“Bet your ribs are ticklish, too!” This was quickly confirmed with a few clawing motions. “But honestly… I’m more interested in these abs.” Miguel flinched when the Tickler’s fingertips trailed lower. He couldn’t back up, so he tried sucking in when the villain began tracing along said abs. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t help, and he flushed when he noticed the Tickler’s amusement.

The tracing didn’t last very long, as the Tickler inevitably escalated. Two hands were soon dancing across Miguel’s midriff, spurred on by the peals of laughter that followed. Nails sunk into his lower belly when the softness there proved especially exploitable. The accompanying taunts about his ticklish tummy only exacerbated his embarrassment.

Targeting his navel next, the Tickler teased a finger around the rim. “Oh, I’ve got just the thing for this!” they said as they reached into their pocket. Miguel blanched when they revealed a lone feather, smaller yet fluffier than those on the dusters. “Any last words?” the Tickler asked, the puff far more threatening than it should’ve been.

Miguel had been doing his best to ignore it, but anxiety began to creep up on him. His life didn't seem to be at any risk, but… how long would he have to endure this? Did anyone know that he’d been kidnapped? How would they locate him once they’d realized?

For better or worse, these thoughts ground to a halt as soon as the feather slipped into his navel.

“Shit!” Miguel cursed before falling apart, the feather tickling more than he’d dared to imagine. He felt every bit of it against his skin, absurdly soft and endlessly swirling.

“Sometimes you just can’t beat the classics!” the Tickler spoke as if making conversation. “There’s just nothing as simple yet effective as a feather. Don’t you agree, Spiderman?”

The tickling continued for a full minute, during which Miguel struggled to catch his breath. When the villain finally did step back, they didn’t take their implement with them.

“Gehet it ohohout!” Miguel squirmed, still overly aware of the feather’s presence. The Tickler simply gave it another twirl. “¡AY- BASTARDO!”

“Seems perfect where it is~”

With that, the Tickler happily moved on, forcing Miguel to cope with yet another indignity. Even just panting made the feather’s fronds shift, tickling enough that Miguel struggled to stop smiling.

“You’ve just got the cutest little waist,” the Tickler teased next, pinching Miguel’s sides. “And nice hips, too,” they continued, dropping down to give those a squeeze. “Ohh, you like that?” they observed when Miguel jolted at the action. He cackled when they dug into the dips, thumbs rubbing firm and relentless circles.

“Heh, I knew you’d be super ticklish. Got a sixth sense for that sort of thing. The second I saw you, I could tell you’d be fun… but somehow, you’re even more ticklish than I thought!” Against his best efforts, Miguel blushed, much to the Tickler’s obvious delight. Even worse, their gaze soon wandered down to Miguel’s parted thighs.

They reached out both hands to knead the thick muscles, grinning when they were rewarded with a screech. “Did I hit a sweet spot?” the Tickler mused. “Let’s see how loud you can really get~”

“¡MIERDA! NOHOHO!” Miguel writhed as the Tickler honed in on his inner thighs. They scribbled their way down to his knees, then lightly pinched a path back upwards. As they neared the top, they switched scratching, which proved ruthlessly effective. Then they slipped past the edges of his boxers, burrowing right into the creases of his thighs. “SHOCK! DOHOHON’T-!” was all Miguel managed, before he lost the ability to form words. The laughter that followed was nothing short of frenzied, and soon enough, there were tears welling up in his eyes.

The Tickler lingered there for what seemed an eternity, right at the edges of Miguel’s boxers. It was only when something new caught their eye that they stopped… then smirked openly. “Well, looks like someone’s getting excited. Are you actually enjoying this?”

Miguel’s face burned when he realized what they meant. Despite everything… he was getting hard.

The physical response was involuntary, of course. Almost unavoidable, which the Tickler knew. The captive hero’s humiliation was a treat, though, and they fully intended to savor it. Following the outline of Miguel’s cock, the Tickler started teasing him through his boxers.

“No!” Miguel gasped, trying to jerk backwards, but there was simply no getting away.

It tickled more than it had any right to. His boxers might’ve even made it worse. The villain’s fingers slid over the material with ease, skimming ticklishly along his length.

“Stohohop! STOHOP!” he ordered frantically, unable to resist the stimulation. It would’ve been nice if it weren’t a blatant violation… and it was only going to get worse.

“Alright, that should be enough for now.” The Tickler withdrew sooner than expected. But then, before Miguel could relax, they pulled out a small blade and slashed right through the fabric. Just like that, Miguel was exposed, his only scrap of clothing falling off in tatters. “Time for some attention in the back!” Miguel’s heart plummeted in his chest.

Skipping out of Miguel’s line of sight, the Tickler soon whistled appreciatively behind him. “And I thought the view from the front was great. Ever think of modeling instead of being a hero?” What came next should’ve been predictable, yet it still managed to catch Miguel off guard. Fingers pinched playfully at his ass… and because everything was against him, even that tickled.

“Was that a squeak?” His captor sounded gleeful. “I was so hoping you’d be ticklish back here!” Then hands were massaging both his cheeks, and Miguel could only cackle through his mortification.

It was ridiculous, humiliating, and only got worse when one of the feather dusters reappeared. Miguel couldn’t see it, but he could certainly feel it, laughter pitching higher at the soft sensation. The Tickler was thorough in their ministrations, dusting all over Miguel’s rear. They attacked from every angle, until inevitably-

“AH! Not there!”

Miguel froze, pure dread flooding in as soon as he realized his mistake. Deathly silence followed… tension building… with every second that ticked by. He was doomed. They both knew it. The suspense was entirely unnecessary. Even so, the Tickler made him wait…

Until the feather duster was right between his cheeks.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle!” The villain taunted as Miguel exploded into helpless hysterics. They used one hand to spread him further while the other continued wiggling the duster. The motion was overwhelmingly ticklish, enough for the tears in Miguel’s eyes to spill over. They rolled down his face as he wrenched at his bonds, unable to find even a second of relief.

Miguel’s composure collapsed further when the feathering migrated towards his front. Sliding down his cleft and across his taint, it was clear where the Tickler was headed next. They took a quick detour at his thighs, just to goad him that much more. It was only when Miguel was ready to snap that the duster finally settled over his cock.

“¡PUTA MADRE!” he swore violently, before mirth fully overtook him. Feathers enveloped his testicles, along with a good portion of his shaft. It was then that the second duster returned, fluttering directly over his head. With that, his whole length was nestled in softness, ticklish plumes caressing every inch.

“Such a feather-ticklish cock~” the villain cooed over Miguel’s anguish. “I could just stay right here forever~” They wiggled the dusters even faster.

“SH- NOHO-!” Miguel struggled to speak, to say anything that might earn him a reprieve. “P-Plehehease!” he finally cracked, too flustered to maintain the illusion of pride.

“What was that?” The Tickler lit up. “Could you say that again for me, Spiderman?”

Begging felt like giving up, but what choice did really he have?

"Please!" he repeated in English first, and when that wasn't enough, he fell into Spanish. "¡Por favor, no puedo más!" Each appeal was an uphill battle through laughter. The Tickler basked in his desperation, drawing it out until they were satisfied. "Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose we are due for a little break."

Little proved to be an understatement. It couldn’t have lasted more than a few moments. Once Miguel was no longer on the verge of passing out, the Tickler resumed, focus still between his legs. Embarrassingly, Miguel was erect, the array of feathers having done their job.

“How rude of me, leaving you like this… It’s only right that I finish what I started.”

Miguel didn’t like the sound of that at all.

The Tickler turned toward the bag they’d brought, rummaging around inside for a bit. “Ah, here we are!” They spun back around… donning a pair of sleek, furry gloves.

“Don’t-“ Miguel’s voice shook. “Please… don’t.”

With a terrifyingly innocent smile, the Tickler reached down and started rubbing.

Miguel shrieked. That was the only word for it. Every touch of the gloves tickled like hell. Every stroke and fondle was accompanied by fur, equal parts titillating and torturous.

“This material’s actually an invention of mine,” the Tickler admitted casually. “I designed it to be soft, exactly as instructed, but all our testers said it was unbearable on skin.” The Tickler circled the tip of Miguel’s cock with a single fluffy finger. “They were right, of course, but I’d put in so much work. I couldn’t just let it go to waste.”

Eventually, just as promised, Miguel came in spite of himself. The Tickler didn’t halt at all in their motions, rubbing Miguel through his moaning, sobbing laughter.

“Fun fact,” they announced once Miguel was spent. “Sensitivity tends to spike right after an orgasm.”

Miguel couldn’t keep himself from trembling, cock still resting in the villain’s gloved palm.

“Please… there has to be something else you want…” Something, anything beyond making him suffer.

“Aww, poor thing,” the villain commiserated, before their smirk returned in full force. “Unfortunately for you, this is all I want, and we still have so many toys to try. Now, cry pretty for me, alright?”

Miguel let out a broken whimper.

—

Spiderman did not kill. No matter the villain, no matter their actions, killing was simply not on the table. Peter B. Parker knew that, of course. It’d been his policy for over 20 years.

Even so, he had to remind himself before hurling the Tickler through the nearest wall.

“Miguel!” Peter shouted once the villain was down, concern overshadowing everything else. When he’d arrived, the Tickler had been raking at Miguel’s thighs with clawed finger caps. By all accounts, Miguel should’ve screamed. The treatment was certainly brutal enough. Instead, his agony had been near silent, made evident only by a fresh stream of tears.

“Por favohohor… noho mahahás… Plehehease…” Miguel babbled, shivering in his restraints. At first, Peter assumed he was feeling aftershocks, only to realize his torment wasn’t actually over.

Vibrating brushes had been strapped to his soles, centered just enough to avoid his toe talons. Peter pulled them off, crushing both in his hands, then returned to Miguel’s front, gaze dropping low. He winced as he eyed Miguel’s weeping cock, two buzzing egg vibrators taped to the shaft. He took a steadying breath before crouching down, removing every bit of it with care.

After that, Miguel calmed, visibly sagging with relief. Peter reached out to cradle his face, only for Miguel to flinch away. “Migs, it’s just me…” Peter’s voice wobbled, his heart tightening in his chest. Fortunately, the nickname seemed to spark some awareness, and Miguel began to recover himself.

“P… Peter?” he croaked weakly, watery eyes coming back into focus.

“Yes! I’ve got you!” Peter pressed in close, wiping Miguel’s tears away with his knuckles. “I’ll have you out of there and back home soon.”

True to his word, Peter freed Miguel quickly, then wrapped his own robe around Miguel’s body. As soon as Jess acknowledged his ping, he left the villain for her, out cold and webbed-up. Tapping his watch, he opened a portal directly to 616B. When Miguel’s legs refused to cooperate, Peter scooped him up and carried him through.

—

Waking back up was a gradual process, made more difficult by pure fatigue. Nonetheless, Miguel persisted, drawn forth by the gentle hand in his hair. When he eventually opened his eyes, a soft sky blue was there to greet him.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” MJ murmured, her smile an absolutely breathtaking sight. Her hand moved carefully from his hair to his cheek, and Miguel instantly leaned into the contact.

“How long was I…” Unconscious? Captive? Miguel wasn’t sure which he wanted to ask. Without missing a beat, MJ answered both questions, frowning as she recalled the worst of it.

“You were missing for all of yesterday… then Peter got you home around 4am.” MJ had stayed up waiting for them, of course. “You’ve been asleep for around 10 hours.”

At that, Miguel attempted to sit up, only to discover he was being held down. Peering over his shoulder revealed a slumbering Peter, one arm and one leg slung over Miguel’s form.

“He was really worried,” MJ explained. “Didn’t tell me much, but…”

“You saw how I was.”

MJ’s brow furrowed, her own worry clear, but Miguel knew she wouldn’t ask until he was ready.

"Wanna see Mayday?" she asked instead, offering him the balm of domesticity. It made him feel warm... and more importantly... safe.

"I'd love to," he accepted gratefully.