#I'm disgusting and cringey

[cigarette-room]

Noticed your communist thing. Have to ask, have you ever experienced communism? Or perhaps a family member? I am telling you as earnestly and seriously as possible, that it is good on paper, and only so. Capitalism is oppressive, true, but communism is hardly great. Decided to put that out there. Coming from someone whose family has lived in communism. It isn't as edgy and #screwcapitalism as people might think.

Dude imma be honest with you you sound so stupid i didn't even wanna grace this tirade with an answer but

Boo! Equal opportunity and resources for everyone! No hoarding wealth for yourself! Does it scare you? Good. It should. Ur so mad about communism being a thing i can't wait for u to never be able to look away from it being everywhere

[dahliamalfoy97]

FEAST - Upper Moons, Muzan x Y/N reader

MuzanxKokushiboxDoumaxReader

Synopsis: Muzan calls for a meeting with the 3 Upper Moons and his wife is just s little greedy and Muzan decides to share her.

Warning: SMUT 18+ explicit content, slight dub con, group sex, rough sex, threesomes, choking, slapping, spanking, degradation kink, praise kink, slight blood kink, masochism, voyeurism? Monster kink, size kink, oral sex, mentions of kidnapping, murder,violence. So much going on in this.

A/N: first time writing a big group sex thing so it’s probably a bit cringey at times and it’s not edited so there’s probably lots of errors. I am such a simp for these four and have been trying to put them together the best I could. Anyways, hope you enjoy and don’t say I didn’t warn ya 😏

Word count: 7,102

"Y/N," Master Muzan calls from the dining hall, "please bring some of that wine out here."

You hurriedly, grab the bottle and a glass from the cabinet and rush out to the dining room. You freeze for a moment when you arrive. Noticing the Master isn't alone- there's 2 Upper Moon demons siting at the table, your master at the center while one of them sits at his left and the other at his right.

Moonstruck, you cautiously, approach the table, taking in all  the guests in a mixture of awe and fear. These two were the real deal. demons after Muzan himself. They were all sitting in one room and you feel the powerful aura that emanated from each of them.

"I'm so sorry, Master, " you stutter, "I didn't realize we had guests, or I would have gotten more glasses."

"It's alright, little dove," Those crimson eyes meet your nervous ones, searing into your soul as usual, making you feel all sorts of flustered.

Master Muzan was the King of Demons. The one that commanded them all to do his bidding. He held the most power. He was also the Devil incarnate because he was able to create demons and to become more powerful he fed on humans. He had an unrivaled bloodlust and was cold to everyone around him. He was cunning, vicious and evil. To everyone but you.

You had been just a human girl, on the brink of starvation when he took you in. He originally was going to fatten you up to kill you, but he ended up finding comfort in your presence and ended up falling for you instead. Because most humans would have been disgusted and terrified of him. But you were willing to do anything to please him. Most demons like him - emotions capable of emotions like love. But you had made him feel much more powerful than his demon army could.

Naturally, you too had fallen in love with the Devil who had saved you. Call it Stockholm Syndrome if you will- but you willingly stayed after learning what he really was. After seeing the blood he shed and the lives he destroyed. You fell in love with the monster anyways.

"Well isn't she a delight?" One of the upper moons cooes, he was ethereal. Like an demon in angel's clothing. This was the vibe the demon gave. He had friendly and inviting smile on his face, but something in those rainbow irises told you it was probably just a mask of the true intent that hid underneath. The one that was full of malice and all things evil. He made you shiver at how someone demonic could look so heavenly. He had pale porcelain skin, and long locks of silvery blonde hair, that swept in all kinds of different directions.

"This is my wife, Y/N," Your Master, replies. "Little dove, this is Douma, he's Upper Rank 2."

You bow your head in respect, "it's a pleasure to meet you."

"my my and she knows her manners too," he kisses your hand with his lips, his touch cold yet shivers automatically shoot down your spine. Something about this demon intrigued you and you wanted so desperately to know the devil underneath those rainbow eyes.

"Lord Douma, if you could please keep your hands to yourself," Muzan warns.

"But I mean she just looks so exquisite- it's shame she's your wife. I'd claim her for myself in an instant."

"You're disgusting," another Upper Moon mumbles to the left of Douma. "Have some fucking respect."

This demon had a more serious aura about him, he seemed more pissed off that he was here. He had hair the color of magenta and eyes like seemed to glow like the sun. His skin was a cool gray hue that had blue lines marking his skin and the rest of his body. He was well defined, as had an open purple vest that exposed his torso. You so desperately wanted to trace all those lines on his chest to see how deep they ran.

"Oh calm down, Pink Head, I'm just paying the lovely lady with some compliments."

"You never have genuine compliments," The Pink haired Upper Moon hisses. "or genuine intentions."

You can't help but giggle at their little banter. All three pairs of eyes focusing on you when you do. You can't help but feel a little shy being at the focus of all these powerful demons. Handsome ones at that.

"She giggled," The Pink Haired Demon says, sounding surprised. "Has she no fear of being around us?"

Muzan looks at you with adoration, "no, my little dove is quite fearless."

"Amazing," Douma wonders, "and she's so fûcking cute too."

Suddenly the doors to the dining room burst open, and the air shifts. As if it was a sunny day and the thunder decided to roll in. This is power this demon had. He had the most intimidating presence of all. He was very tall and muscular, taller than the rest of the demons here. His hair fell into black luscious waves, the ends dipped in a deep red.  But it was his eyes that made you tremble. Six pairs of eyes the color of the moon- his scleras a deep red that matched the tips of his hair. He was beautiful in such an intimidating way. If you weren't currently married to Muzan, you'd be falling in your knees in an instant for this man.

"Look who finally decided to show up." Douma taunts, earning a cold glare from the demon.

Something inside you quivered which each step he took. His purple and black checkered kimono billows behind him.

"Kokushibo, you're late," Muzan adds.

"I was busy," the demon finally replies and oh his voice is enough to make you press your thighs together.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You were married to the most powerful demon of all and yet you were craving these demons just as much.

The newcomer- Kokushibo. Who you knew from the character that was stained on his iris- that he was the Upper Rank One, took a seat the other end of the table.

"Well now that everyone is here, we can finally start this meeting, little dove, do you mind getting some more glasses ? "

"Of course, Master," when you looked in those crimson eyes there was a knowing smirk there and you exit the dining room in a flash.

While you're in the kitchen, you can't help but sneak a hand underneath the folds of your skirt, past your panties and feel your arousal dripping.

The amount of power in that dining room had you soaked to the core, flustered and embarrassed at the lewd images that filled your head, you hastily pull your skirt back down and grab the glasses from the cabinet.

Being a little short, you struggle to reach some of them, you try to climb the cabinet but a hand snakes around your waist, pining you between the counter and his backside. "Careful, little one, you're going to injure yourself." He reaches up to grab the glasses for you and places them in your hands, his pale large veiny hands covering your small ones completely.

"Thank you, Lord Douma," you say, a little breathless at the way he was holding you. You could feel something against your backside.

"No problem, little one, I'd be happy to help you in any way," He whispers seductively in your ear, his voice is soft and melodic but the way he speaks, has your nipples straining against the fabric of the  flimsy gown you wore.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the meeting?" You murmur as you feel a hand creep under your skirt.

"I am but I excused myself for the bathroom, sometimes a man has needs to attend to," his hand traces circles along your thigh before reaching the outline of your panties. "I know your Muzan's, but fuck, I can't keep my eyes off you. I want to devour you so badly but my curiosity for you and what you'd feel like around my cock, overshadows that and I want nothing more than to have a little taste of you," he tugs your ear between his teeth causing you you whine softly, his fingers dip into your panties and begin to rub your clit. "Did you know all of us demons have a heightened sense of smell, so I can smell your sweetness from across the room. And I just gotta have it."

"But I'm Muzan's," you protest lamely, arching your back as the circles on your clit quicken.

He laughs into your ear, "that's not what your sopping cunt says right now. Akaza was right. I'm not a man with good intentions. I take what I want, when I want."

With a wicked glint in his, he inserts a finger into your hole, he groans lightly at the way your finger just sinks him in, "so fucking wet for pussy that belongs to someone else."

You shamelessly begin to grind yourself againt him as he begins to fuck you his finger.

"Look at you, grinding on me like a needy slut," Douma cooes, while adding a second finger, scissoring them to stretch out your gummy walls. Soon a third finger is added, and you're a sopping mess as he curls them upward immediately finding the spot that makes you scream. "Careful now, don't want your husband to hear you, or maybe you do."

All you can do is whine as he fucks you brutally with his fingers, you hear some rustling, and then your panties are being ripped down, and something hard is poking at your entrance. As soon as it pierces your walls, you let out a wail. The stretch burns and Douma gives you no chance to adjust to his curved long cock as he brutally pistons into you. Your still wedged between him and the counter so there's no room for you to move. Your completely trapped and helpless against his assault on your body.

"Fuck. So. Damn. Tight," he moans in your ear.

You could feel every scrape and every vein of his throbbing cock hammering into you, he was much longer than Muzan was and seemed to reach places deeper, and perhaps it was the precarious position you were in but all you could feel was him.

"Don't stop," you cry, you knew it was wrong for letting Douma fuck you, but it felt too good that you couldn't resist submitting to his control.

"Don't worry, Dollface," he pulls your ass out so it's angled and you have more room to move. You finally can glance down at where your connected, his balls slapping against your skin, that you knew would leave bruises with how hard they were slapping. His thrusts were relentless, animalistic. The counter's edges dig into your skin with each thrust.

Muzan has his rough tendencies, but this was another level, and you were overwhelmed by the pain and pleasure.

Douma's hands travel to your covered breasts and he cups them in his large hands giving time a squeeze.

"You keep clenching around me and I'm going to cum sooner than we both want. Although maybe I should use you for my own personal cum dump, and just take what I want from you."

You're so incoherent at this point that all the comes out of your mouth is strangled garbles, which turns into a whimper when he wraps a hand around you throat to cut off your airway.

"But unfortunately we can't take as long as we want, because your husband is probably wondering where we are," he just continues to babble in your ear.

The possible reminder of Muzan catching you with Douma, made you even more aroused than it should. You clamp around his cock at the thought, which causes him to fuck you harder. You could feel your stomach coiling he continued to pound into that one spot. He kept playing with your airway, with each thrust of his cock he would squeeze and then let go.

"Fuck, Douma, I'm close," you cry, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"So am I, your pussy is amazing, I want to kidnap you and keep you for my own. Muzan is a lucky motherfucker."

His thrusts become slower more torturous as if to draw out your agonizing orgasm, which was desperate for release.  You were about to lose it if you didn't cum soon. The ache was too much. Too overwhelming.

"Please Douma, let me cum," you beg.

He laughs, "You can beg better than that."

you pout, but that instantly changes when his speed picks up again, rocking your body with his, "FUCK DOUMA LET ME CUM PLEASE."

He cackles, his rainbow irises bright with amusement, "if Muzan comes in here because of that we are both dead."

"I don't care," you hiss, pushing yourself back on his cock trying to get more.

"Well go ahead then, cum slut, make a mess on my cock," Douma encourages. "If you're the desperate to. I think you're just too drunk on my cock to not care about anything else."

His mocking tone along with his greedy thrusts, has you coming undone.

"That's it, make a mess for Douma," he grins madly, before thrusting a few more times before exploding inside you. You both watch in satisfaction as his cum fills you up. "Looks so pretty with my cum." He grabs something behind him and shoves it into your pussy, making sure his cum doesn't leak out.

"Shit Douma, what if Muzan sees?"

The haze of sex has lifted and you're reminded of what you had just done. But there's no shame or remorse on Douma's face and you sure don't regret a single thing.

"Well if Muzan finds out we're both dead, but it was worth it. Come let's go back to the meeting I'm sure he's wondering where both of us went."

Douma leaves you and you hastily follow after. Arriving at the dining room.

"Sorry, Master Muzan i must have had an upset stomach, one of the girls I ate today before coming here must have messed me up," his rainbow irises have disappeared into crescent moons as he takes his seat next to Akaza.

How could he act like nothing happened just now? Meanwhile, you could feel his cum still inside you, and your cheeks were probably flushed. You had no idea how you looked right now.

As soon as Muzan's scarlet cat eyes land on you, you see that familiar glint in them, and you know he knows.

He was the Demon King after all, he knew everything.

"Little dove, did you forget the glasses as I asked for you to get for our guests?"

His tone is calm, but there's an underlying of a mocking tone.

Shivers immediately go done your spine as you bow in a frenzy, "I'm so sorry, Master I- I don't know how I could have forgotten. I'll go back and get them."

"What a bad girl," Muzan tsks. "You forgot something so simple? I wonder why that is."

"Muzan- I-"

"Y/N come here."

You freeze he never uses your actual name unless it's for a punishment. Ashamed you walk over to where Muzan is sitting, but it's a little hard to with Douma's cock nearly damaging you just moments ago. Whom had a smug grin on his face.

"Muzan-"

"Shut the fuck up and turn around," you shiver at cold and calm his tone was. But you obey nonetheless.

Muzan pushes you against the table, your front side digging into the edge. He pushes up the hem of your skirt and your cheeks immediately heat. All of the demons in this room could see your naked ass. But before you could look to see what their reactions are like, a hand comes down on your ass hard, you jolt at the sudden harsh sting. You look back at those scorching scarlet orbs that seemed to burn into you. Fingers graze your swollen pussy, that's stuffed with your underwear."

"Looks like you've been having too much fun with one of my demons," Muzan states, flashing a glare at Douma before glaring at you again. He tugs the cloth out for your pussy and you cry feeling the liquid drip out of you.

"Douma you just can't control yourself can you?" Akaza scolds and you hear a sudden slash. You turn to see Douma's head being split in half. Akaza's hand covered in his blood. You grimace at the sudden violence but a slap against your ass steals your attention.

"Of course he couldn't," Muzan chastises, "how could he resist such a slutty pussy? Especially when it belongs to me?"

"Because it's fûcking paradise, that pussy is," Douma's melodic voice is back and you see that he's regenerated looking as bright as ever.

"Did he fuck you good?" Muzan inquiries, ignoring the Upper 2, his focus entirely on you and your flushed cheeks and the way Douma's cum oozes out of your glistening cunt. "Looks like he did if you let him cum in you."

You're at a loss for words.

He suddenly grips your throat yanking your had back, choking you slightly, making you look at only him, "fucking answer me, slut!"

"Y-yes," you sob, "He fucked me really good."

He chuckles darkly, "perhaps I should let them all fuck you. Huh? Would you like that? Because you're such a slut my cock isn't enough to satisfy you? So you must have them all."

"Muzan-" you try to plead but suddenly your mouth is being stuffed with something wet. Your arousal pools when you realize it's your panties that's wet with yours and Douma's cum. The stench of sex fills your nostrils.

"Shut the fuck up and get on the fucking table."

Trembling out of embarrassment and arousal you climb on the table, your legs shaking.

Before you can situate yourself, Muzan is flipping you over on your back, and drags your head over the edge, letting it hang. Your legs are spread wide letting all the upper moons getting a view of your exposed cunt.The panties in your mouth are being yanked out and replaced with something hot, thick and heavy. Before you have a chance to process, it's being rammed down your throat without any warning.

Muzan looks at you with a sadistic grin as he plows his cock into your mouth. You could feel the blood rushing to your head making you light headed in this position. But he didn't care to stop at your precarious situation. For Muzan wasn't a kind man when he had to punish. His punishments were cruel and brutal. But never to you. That's why you were so shocked but aroused at his sudden cruelty. Saliva and his precum coated your tongue and dripped out of your mouth, as his balls slapped against your chin.

"What a pathetic little cock whore you are," Muzan mocks, as his cock continues tearing into your throat constantly hitting the back of it. "Who wants a turn with my whore's pussy first?"

"Don't mind if I do," you hear Douma say from somewhere, but your mind is too fuzzy. If you were human, you would have died from getting throatfucked in this position with how hard Muzan was abusing it. You wouldn't be able to talk after this for awhile or ever again if he continued. Suddenly, you feel hands spreading your legs apart, a cold breath hits your aching cunt and when the first flick of a tongue meets your folds, you buck your hips at feeling causing Muzan's cock to hit the back of your throat harshly. A chuckle sounding like Douma's tickles your dripping hole, causing you to flutter. You lose it when that tongue begins swirling your clit. Despite his cold breath Douma's tongue was hot and consuming against your pussy lips sending you into immediate overdrive with the urgent yet hungry way he eats you out. He holds your hips with his hands to keep you from squirming. Becoming a prisoner to his delicious assault. His fingers splay your wet lips open, making it easier to that sweet spot. His slurping noises have you screaming . You weave your fingers into those silky, soft silver locks and push him in as deep as can go.

"You taste so fucking sweet, Doll," Douma hums against your folds. His feasting on you is relentless. The way he swirls and sucks on your clit has you falling apart within seconds. But he doesn't stop when you've cum on his face already he just keeps going. Your thighs shaking as he guides you through another orgasm.

Meanwhile, Muzan is still violently fucking your throat, you could feel every vein of his hard cock as he repeatedly slams into you. It grows heavier against your throat and you knew he was close by the low-yet strained grunts coming from the Demon King above, but before you get the chance to feel his seed down your throat. He's yanking your head off and hot cum sprays your face instead. When you whine in protest, he interrupts, "coming down your throat would be a reward for you. I'm not sure you deserve the reward yet."

Douma, removes himself from your pussy, he guides you up into a sitting position, his face is soaked in your juices, you your lips at the sight.

"So delicious," he praises, before pulling you forward, he reaches for you face and brings you into a hungry, demanding kiss. His lips cold yet, hot at the same time. Tasting your arousal his tongue as he swirls it with yours. You shamelessly lock your arms around him bringing him closer so that you're in his lap, straddling him. You grind yourself on his clothed erection, causing him to coo in your ear. "Such a messy girl, you're making such a mess on my pants. Does it drive you crazy knowing that the four most powerful demons are watching you make a mess on me? Watching you turn into a dirty, greedy, little whore? Hmm?"

You  turn into mush at his soft voice that's filled with such lewd words, you continue grinding on him, feeling his massive length under you.

"Yes, Douma."

He chuckles, leaning back lazily watching you fall apart in his lap, while he was doing nothing to help you. 

"Look at your girl becoming a slut for another," Douma smirks at a glowering Muzan. You blink your eyes open and meet those scorching scarlet ones. Making you even more turned on. He was currently sitting in his chair, leaned back while stroking himself. His black curls sticking to his face from sweat. A feline, predatory look in the way he stares at you, while you're getting yourself off in another man's lap has you become more frantic- more bold. More needy. 

"Yes because that's all she is. Is a good little whore for us demons to ruin."

You moan, gripping Douma's neck,  glancing around the room at the others. Akaza was looking disgusted and aroused at the same time. As if fighting an eternal storm in his brain. But the noticeably large tent in his  pants said otherwise. His golden eyes meet yours and you beckon him with your finger.

"Come join us, Akaza," you plead. Kokushibo on the other hand was much harder to read. He gave nothing away in those moon colored orbs  as those six eyes stared at you with an intensity so strong but it was cold and indifferent at the same time.

"Yeah Koku and Akaza, am I only one going to indulge in this sweet pussy or are you guys going to join?"

"I have no interest," Koku hisses, but his eyes never shift from yours.

"I don't want to share with you," Akaza bites back. "I fucking  hate you, rainbow child. "

"But it's not for me, it's for her."

"Plus it's my orders to get to know what's mine," Muzan adds. "And what you'll never get to experience again after this."

"More the reason for me not to join," Koku growls. "Why would I join if I can't keep her all to myself?"

"Because I want you too, Daddy," you plead.

Something in those six eyes flashes, something dangerous that coils in your gut, you come on Douma's lap making a mess, "good job, little one."

"You have no idea what you're asking of me," Koku warns.

"He's a coward then," Douma taunts, flashing the Upper One a charming smile, as he sheds out of his clothes, your jaw dropping as his body was revealed. Douma had a well toned physique his muscles were exquisite and smooth, broad shoulders and a slim waist. Your eyes traveled this cock that you hasn't been able to see before when he was fucking you with it in the kitchen. It was massively long with a slight curve. A good ten inches. You bet. And it stood red and angry against his taut stomach as crisscrossed his legs and brought you back into his lap, not wasting a moment guiding his long shaft into your awaiting heat. You wrap your legs around him, this position was new something you'd never done with Muzan. Every part of Douma was flushed with you. Your tits slapped against his bare chest you rode him in this position. Every inch of his cock was deep and snug against your slick walls. He lets out a strangled moan when you take your nails down his back. There was no telling where you ended and where he started. And you both loved it. He dug his sharp nails into your hips, trying to pull you in deeper.

"Fuck," you both moan, you throw your head back, in pure utter bliss. Reveling in the way he dug into your hole, how every vein and every crevice seemed to scrape along yours. You were sure he was all the way in your stomach.

"You feel so snug and warm against me Doll," Douma praises, his nails digging in deeper. Drawing a little blood causing you to arch into him. "Those idiots don't know what they're missing out on."

A low growl comes from Koku.

"Your blood is just a pretty as you are," Douma grins manically, he brings one of his hands that's covered in your blood. Before bringing it to his mouth. Those usually bright eyes instantly darken and turn feral, the sight of him tasting your blood has you sobbing in pure pleasure. He shoves one into your mouth causing you to choke around his fingers. You instantly taste the metallic taste on your tongue. "Don't you taste divine, little one? Fuck, I might just steal you away from Muzan. I'm too fucking addicted to everything about you. You are so fucking perfect for me. The perfect little doll who takes whatever I give you. don't you all want a taste?"

His words and his actions send you into a frenzy mess and it's not long before your spasming around him, clamping down on him as your orgasm takes over.

"Fuck Douma," you scream.

"I love it when you scream my name," Douma says ever so softly.

Before you have a chance to breathe, you're being pulled off of Douma's cock, you cry at the sudden emptiness. But strong arms whip you around, and without warning a new cock it's a little shorter than Douma's but it is thick, and it's girth is ravenous as it enters you, your head is being pushed down on Douma's lap. His still hard cock being shoved in your face, he just smirks and lifts your head.

"Took you long enough to join us, Pink Head."

"Shut the fuck up, Rainbow Shit," Akaza seethes as he rams into you from behind. His marked hands grip your hips, as he rocks forward into you. Your whole body is jerking at the sudden abruptness. "It's my fucking turn. So let me fuck the bitch."

"Ohmygodohmygod," you cry, "Akazaaaa, you feel incredible."

His cock split you open perfectly. You eagerly took his length in.

"Damn, who pissed you off pinky?"  Douma teases, looking at you with a mischievous grin. His long fingers grip your chin and pries your mouth open, his other hand strokes his cock. He smacks teases your half opened  lips with the tip, smearing precum on your face. "Open your mouth, little one."

You open up wide, he dutifully shoves your head down on his cock, you hollow your cheeks and slacken your jaw to help take him in. But he didn't really you a chance to adjust as he forced your head up and down his long shaft.  Akaza's harsh thrusts causing for Douma's cock to bump down your throat even deeper. Everything felt so good. You'd never felt so used in your life and you were loving every inch of it.

"Now there's a good slut," Douma taunts, "my own personal cocksleeve. Is there anything you can't do?"

"How are you feeling  little dove ?" Muzan suddenly calls out, sounding amused. "You're looking quite stuffed there."

To be honest, with the other two demons currently using you for their pleasure you had forgotten about your husband.

"Her mouth is too stuffed with my cock, Muzan, she's not going to answer you," Douma chants.

"Douma you talk too fucking much!" Akaza snaps, his hips snapping in response and then everything falls silent.

Except for skin on skin, and the lewd moans and slurping sounds that filled the room.  The three of you were way to into this situation.

"That's it, bitch," Akaza growls as you begin to spasm around his cock. "Squeeze me just like that."

Meanwhile Kokushibo was as silent as ever. His moon colored eyes watching with unnerving intensity. He didn't know what he wanted. He knew he wanted you. But he hated everyone else in this room and didn't like the idea of having to share you with any of them. His cock was painfully hard under his kimono. His knuckles where white and gripping the edge of his seat. But watching how the mess the other demons turned you in, listening to your sweet moans and listening to how wet you were, it was driving him mad.

"Fuck,"' you managed in between having Douma's cock down your throat. "Don't fucking stop. Please Akaza."

"Don't worry, I won't stop  until your leaking full of my cum."

Fuck. You were so overwhelmed. The pleasure was unbearable.

You came in white waves, just as Douma's load shot in your mouth.

"Good girl," Douma grins when you swallow all of it.

Not long after Akaza releases in your sensitive  cunt with a low grunt, milking it all the way through til the last drop til he pulls out.

You fall into a heap on the table, completely covered in cum. Your whole body ached.

"If you truly want me to fuck you, Princess," Kokushibo suddenly speaks up, "you better crawl to me. And I'm not sharing you with anyone. You're all mine to fuck alone. Understood?"

Douma chuckles, "I don't think she can move, Koku."

"I understand, Daddy."

He chuckles deep and low, sending shivers down your spine.

"Now come to me," he orders.

Slowly, you sit up and get on your hands and knees. Your whole body aches, your drenched in come. But you want nothing more than to be  fucked by the Upper 1. Ever since he walked through those doors. There was something about him that made you want to kneel before him and do whatever he asked of you. So you crawl.  You feel the others watching you in silence. Even Douma is silent. Kokushibo's eyes never leave yours as you finally reach his end.

He stands up, and fuck, is he tall. He towers over everyone here, he grips your chin with his hands, making you look at only him. Those six eyes burn into every inch of you, "you better pray that you can handle everything I give you. Because I won't hold back. None of these idiots can compare to how I'll make you feel. Not even Muzan. I'll sweep you off your feet," he whispers so no one else but you can hear him. He glances up in the direction of Muzan, as he removes his clothes.

And holy shit is he built by the gods. Now not built by the gods. He is a god. Made of pure muscle. Pure power and pure dominance radiated from this demon. As if he was carved from stone. Not a single inch of him was flawed. You  wanted to lick those abs. The flame pattern that he had on his face went down to his chest. Making him look even more exquisite.  Your eyes shamelessly rake down to his rock hard cock. Or could you even call it that. It was bigger than anyone else's here. And it was thick. Long, thick and you knew it was going to break you.

"Fucking hell, Kokushibo, I might even be gay for you," Douma replies.

"Okay everyone out. Except for Y/N and Muzan. The other two I want you gone."

"But-"

"So selfish, don't you know sharing is caring-"

Douma is cut off by Akaza dragging him by the hair.

"From here on out, you're mine. With the permission of Muzan-"

"Oh you really think I'm just going to hand her over to you?" Muzan laughs darkly. "She's mine, she was mine before she was yours."

"Why don't you both just fuck me and stop this overbearing egotistical shit?" I ask. "If you both want me, then you have me."

" I don't share," Kokushibo seethes. "I would literally start a war to make you mine."

"But so would I," Muzan replies.

You roll your eyes.

"Well let's just see who fucks you better," Koku challenges.

"Sure," Muzan replies coldly. "Go ahead and give it your best."

"Lay down and spread those legs for me, Princess," Koku demands.

You immediately obey him, and watch him as he stalks towards you. He bends down and closes the distance between your lips. A wildfire burns through you at the intensity of his lips. The way he seemed to command and consume your lips. You barely could breath. You let out a moan when he nipped your bottom lip. His hands start to roam your body, and yours could barely grip onto his back. You were so small in comparison to him. But you were determined to feel every ridge. He begins to fondle your breasts, playing and kneading  them like dough. You were nothing but putty in his hands. You reach for his cock, but he slaps your hand away.

"Fuck, Koku," you say breathlessly. "I need you now. Please."

"Patience," he hisses, his lips leave yours and starts leaving trailing down your neck. You arch into him when he begins sucking marks into your skin. He continues you mark and map you with his mouth, until he stops just right where you want him. Over your throbbing pussy. Which was still sensitive from the other demons, so you knew he was going to truly ruin you.  He runs a finger along your slick seams and you hitch in a breath. "I love how you're still begging to be used after Douma and Akaza had their way with you. I guess you're not fucked properly enough if you can still crawl to me. Don't worry, Princess I'll fix that little problem for you."

He slowly inserts a long finger, groaning at the way you immediately suck him in. "Even though you've already been fucked by the others, you still need to be prepared to take me. Because I am much bigger than they are."

"Fuck," you whimper.

After prodding you with one finger he adds another and then a third. Scissoring open your gummy walls. He wastes no time curling them upwards and finding your spot. Jabbing them slowly, teasing you.  You arch your back, but something stops you and pins you still. Muzan has joined in. But he's in his true demon form. With his white curly hair, and tentacles sprouting from his back. His tentacles are straining your arms, leaving you utterly immobile.

"You're so greedy fucking all my demons today. What, you want them all? Is that it? Am I not enough for you?"

"Y-you are enough i - I just-" you scramble for words, but you're slapped in the face, Kokushibo's mouth finally descends on your clit. " Lies!" Muzan growls at the same time you scream out  " aww  fuck!"

Kokushibo's tongue delves into every crevice, sucking while he still fucks you on his fingers. You eagerly grind on him, for more friction. Needing and wanting more.

"Koku, don't stop!" You cry.

Muzan leans over you and shoves his cock down your throat again. At the same time you feel yourself being stretched. No- ripped. You scratch the table since your arms are still pinned by Muzan's tentacles. Kokushibo wastes no time hammering his monster cock into you, greedily taking you however he wants. Muzan's cock plunges into your mouth with the same carnal desire.

"Such a good little toy," Muzan says. "Isn't she Kokushibo?"

But he ignores and focuses his attention on where your bodies meet. He could see the outlines of his cock in your stomach. The table was creaking underneath all the weight. Both demons destroyed and ravaged your body in the most inhuman way, none of them caring about how tired battered was becoming. It was a lewd sight. Truly insane. One of Muzan's tentacles curls around your body and down your clit. Sucking on it as Kokushibo's thrusts become harder, deeper.

You mumble incoherent moans around Muzan's cock. Your vision was becoming blurry, your body numb from all the attention it was receiving.

Another tentacle plays at your other entrance, the wet muscle teasing the rim of your opening.

"See you can own her pussy," Muzan states confidently, "but I  own her entire body. Including her soul."

With that the tentacle pushes into your hole. Muzan pulls out of your mouth to let you scream. Choking you with his hands. You come instantly. Your body is being overwhelmed the pleasure was starting to hurt because you've come countless of times tonight, you didn't even know how many. But your body was reaching its limit. But you didn't want them to stop. All your holes are being filled and there wasn't an inch of you that belonged to you anymore. You were theirs. Their plaything.

"Shut the fuck up, Muzan!" Kokushibo warns.

Muzan just laughs, and sobers up when he notices how dizzy you're looking, "you okay, little dove? Do you need us to stop?"

Kokushibo slows a bit, caressing your face, "we'll stop princess, if you need us too."

You shake your head, "no... I'm fine."

Kokushibo picks you up, taking you into his arms, kissing you softly, his length still pounding upwards into you while you cling to him like a koala.

"Please don't stop, koku. I want you to come in me," you whine. Muzan is suddenly at your back. Your sandwiched in between the two most powerful demons, and you couldn't be more at peace.

"Lift her for me," Muzan commands softly. Kokushibo doesn't fight this time, he grips your ass with his massive hands a lifts you up, Muzan's tip nudges your other entrance before easing his way in. You whine at the sudden stretch of both men inside you. Both with big cocks and big egos. They take turns hammering into you. You grab Koku by the neck and pull him in for a sloppy, kiss. Moaning into his mouth. He kisses you back with as much fervor.

“fuck don’t stop you guys,” you plead, before pulling away from Koku. Muzan grabs you by the chin and claims your mouth with his you grip his white silky locks, tugging on them as he devours your mouth possessively.

You could feel your orgasm approaching and by the way both cocks were growing inside you, and hips were starting to stutter, you could tell both demons were close.

“Koku- Muzan - I’m close.”

“Makes a mess, Princess,” Kokushibo encourages gruffly, “make a mess on Daddy’s cock.”

“Little dove, cum for Master,” Muzan growls.

“I want us to come together, fill me up, please.”

“Alright,” Muzan says.

A few more thrusts and clenching around them, you throw your head back onto Muzan’s chest as both men fill both your holes up with cum at the same time.

“Awww fuck,” you all say unison when you’re being pulled off and cum gushes out.

“That is the most satisfying thing I’ve ever seen,” Muzan says.

But you’re eyes are drifting shut.

“I’ll have make you a mandatory part of our meetings from now on,” Muzan says, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“I hope you understand I’m not letting her go now,” Kokushibo warns. “She’s mine now too.”

Muzan rolls his eyes, lifting you into his arms.

“Well then how about she’s all of ours,” Douma appears with Akaza in tow.

“I don’t share,” Kokushibo snaps, “I will kill you all to have her to myself.”

“And I definitely don’t want to share her with you, Rainbow Shit.”

Douma pouts, “I thought we all just had a bonding moment. We’re friends now you and I.”

In a blink of an eye, Akaza swipes Douma’s head in half.

“You and I will never be friends.”

“How rude,” Douma sighs as he’s once again regenerated. “ I am seriously offended,” he puts a hand over his chest.

“You’re all lucky I let you indulge in MY WIFE,” Muzan reminds them harshly. “Next time I might not be so kind.”

“Guys can you all stop fighting over me?“ you murmur sleepily on Muzan’s lap. Still naked. Kokushibo grabs his kimono and places it over you to cover you up. “What if I want all of you?”

All eyes snap to you, all demons growl. Even Douma is annoyed.

“Sweetheart we are demons, we don’t share with others. We take what we want from others even if that means killing,” Douma explains. “ and us four demons specifically each other’s guts.”

“Fine, then I want none of you then,” you hiss.

“No!” Kokushibo snaps, “ you want all of us? Then fine. We’ll agree to your wishes if it makes you happy. “

“That’s if we don’t kill each other first,” Akaza pipes in.

“No promises,” Douma smirks.

"All right, little dove, you win-“ suddenly Muzan’s head is beheaded falling to the floor with a thud. Kokushibo is standing behind, before stealing you from the demon king, then before anyone can react.

Kokushibo vanishes with you in his arms.

“I believe this will definitely start a war Koku,” you protest.

“I don’t care, we both know the minute I walked through those doors, that you were mine.”

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, but you didn’t mind. He was right he stole you away from Muzan the minute he walked through those doors.

“So where are you taking me, Koku?” Pulling caressing his face softly.

He looks down at you with a warm smile, “I’m taking you home, with me. Where you belong.”

[eydi-andrius]

Can you keep it up? [Miguel O'Hara x Reader]

cw/tw: flirty reader, bashful and irate Miguel, reader doesn't know boundaries, other spiderman/woman used to it and she's 100% supported by them, Lyla being her supportive AI ;)))), Unedited. Written on mobile. I just wanted to write this out of my system.

summary: Just you flirting your way to Miguel's pants' attention.

a/n: very self-serve fic. i understand if some lines would be cringey but that wasn't the point. the point is for Miguel to notice you or idk be tired of your antics. getting his attention is a win-win whether it was positive or negative. 😆

🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️

Does he know he's so hot when he walks that way?

You pouted as you watched Miguel walk towards Miles. Sitting leisurely on your makeshift web hammock, you watched how his firm muscle moves on his tracksuit and how it fits him perfectly. The tight leather wrapped his tempting body so beautifully and deliciously. His hips so small for a burly man, which you liked.

And please, don't get started with those sinful huge chests of his. It's so full, that you know if he cuddles you, he will swallow you whole. Not that you mind though.

For you, he is the perfect definition of tall, dark and handsome.

The only thing that was a turn off about him was his irate attitude. Yet, it's all right, you like your men with a bit of a challenge.

You know you should focus on whatever the reason why you were called by Lyla. Miguel never calls for you unless he is in a pinch. In fact, he called for everyone so it must have been an emergency. You kinda envy Lyla because she probably asked Miguel to say the word, "please" and teased him for it when he did admit he needed help. Maybe you should ask if she recorded it?

Well, the most important thing was, you're finally close to him again! It has been a while since you were allowed to be near him. When was it? Who cares really. He’s hotter now though. The temptation to climb him is back again. Well, the idea never left you in the first place.

—--

“You are staring way too much, girl." A static voice suddenly appeared near your left ear and you couldn't help the sigh of longing you have been holding out for quite some time.

"I know right? I'll do everything just to touch it. But we both know he will throw me away if I do something drastic again. Just like last time." You blinked and pouted as you watched how the fat muscle of his ass moved so hypnotizingly.

"Yeah true. I still wonder how you liked the guy though. His attitude is way less charming now compared to before." You two sighed in agreement.

"'Can you two, please stop talking about my behind when I'm literally just in front of the two of you?" He grumbled in annoyance as he showed his fangs in your direction.

"Can you say "Please" one more time, honey?" You gave him your best spidey puppy eyes. If he’s trying to intimidate you, well, it is working. Obviously, not the way he intended to.

All he replied was a disgusted, frustrated groan and marched away while dragging Pavitr. Probably to talk somewhere you can't look freely on his package.

How selfish, Mr. O’Hara.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wonder if Miguel will agree to princess carry you if you pay him a hundred bucks? Paying more is an option too. You’re not that stingy.

Maybe you should try asking him about it. Later? Tonight? Or probably after the mission?

Little did you know, Miguel has been calling your name while you were inside your head thinking of many ways you can make Miguel agree with your requests.

Your brows furrowed, eyes looking from afar. The spiderman with fangs can’t help but facepalm.

He can’t help but think that maybe it was wrong of him to request your assistance for this mission.

However, even though you were weird. And way into him, especially, his back and his ass. You worked way better than the other spiderman and spiderwoman. He used to hate you for being lazy and way too lax.

Yet, your method of working is 100% effective and easier than how he does his stuffs.

He has no choice but to do it.

He walked towards you until he was standing in front, less inches than he usually allows you to. He coughed to get your attention one last time, but you were way preoccupied and busy with whatever was inside your head.

He breathed in and with full strength held your shoulders and shook you. A normal person would probably die. However, doing it this way was the only effective way he knew to wake you up from your fantasies.

You screamed in terror and he was obligated to stop when you punched his hands holding your shoulder.

He was worried that he might have overdone it and he scared you. He just needed your attention and not scared you to death.

But little did he know that you screamed not because of terror but of surprise.

Miguel is in mere inches in front of you, holding your shoulders. You can practically smell his rich smell.

You are such a lucky girl.

Maybe he shook you way too hard but the only word you blurted out after a pregnant pause was……

“You are so fucking hot.” You uttered without blinking.

The collective of spider people sighed in relief. They were also worried that Miguel had made you stupid after that shake but you seem back to normal and functioning quite well.

“Gwen, you’ll go with me.” He grumbled and jumped without further ado.

Gwen was confused for a second but followed suit.

“Hey wait! Did you ask me to go with you!? HEY!” You followed closely behind them but failed when the entrance closed just after they jumped.

“Oh girlie, sometimes you gotta get out of your head when the prize is literally mere inches of you.”

Jessica shook her head and said those words with a grin. You were left flabbergasted when you realized you soiled your chance to work closely with Miguel because you daydream way too much.

[rorywritesjunk]

Currently I'm at 450 followers and so here's a lil something for Buggy x Reader. PG. Short-ish. Fluff and fun. Mild Buggy feeling bad about himself. GN reader! And a little silly and cringey probably near the end but it's Buggy so it's okay.

I love you all. 🧡

~

"Wait, so you never-"

"No!" A bottle is slammed onto the table, a fist joining it in frustration before the drinker slumped forward, nestling his head into his arms. "Never ever never."

"I mean, that's okay-"

"Is it?" Buggy asked you as he lifted his head up enough to look at you with shining eyes. "'s our first date and-and I just told you my deepest, darkest secret!"

Okay, now the clown was being a little dramatic to the point where you had to pretend to sneeze and cough at the same time to cover up a snort. You didn't think that not having your first kiss was a 'deep, dark secret' as Buggy seemed to think. If anything, you found it kind of amusing and sweet.

"Well, you did drink three bottles before I came to the table, Captain." You reminded him as he sat up to look down the end of the bottle. You stopped him from lifting it over his eye to check, not wanting to risk any of the drink spilling over his face. "I imagine your lips are going to be a little loose for you to spill some secrets."

"Bu-But that one-"

"It's fine. Some people could go their entire life without kissing someone, Captain Buggy." You assured him, pressing down on his arm to get him to lower the bottle. If he was going to share a secret... "I have never been kissed as well."

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped at the confession. "No, you're lying!"

"It's true! I wanted to wait til I found the right set of lips to smooch." You told him with a laugh. "I'm being very selective."

"Why?!" Maybe you'd want to kiss him? Was his makeup fresh or was it smudged? He tried to remember what he ate last and if he brushed his teeth afterwards. How were you supposed to let someone know you wanted to kiss them? Did his sandwich have onions?

You smiled and shrugged. "Just wanted to be, I guess." You took a sip of your own drink. "Why haven't you?"

Buggy fell silent and you wondered if something was wrong. He looked hesitant, gripping the bottle in his hand as he looked between it and you. Well, you asked, should he tell you that he tried all the time to find someone? That he watched Shanks get his first kiss from some pretty brunette when they were 14 and getting supplies, and that he overheard his friend trying to get the brunette to give Buggy one too? He didn't want his first kiss to be out of pity, nor from someone who made a disgusted face in his direction when it was suggested.

Maybe you were pulling his leg. You were gorgeous, friendly, wonderful, and he couldn't quite believe that you never kissed someone.

"Just haven't found the right person as well!" He exclaimed a little too loudly. "Whoever is the first person to kiss Captain Buggy's luscious lips will be known to the history books!"

"Oh?" You smiled. "Who's writing those history books?"

"Me!" Buggy laughed. "Or I'll hire someone to do it because I'll be too busy hunting for treasure! My name is already legendary, after all!"

"Hm." You took another sip. "Can I get my name written down in those history books of yours, Captain Buggy?"

"Wha- why, I mean, I suppose? Why?"

"To be the one to give the famous Captain Buggy his first kiss." You offered casually with a wink. "I gotta get my name in them some how."

That seemed to stun him into a moment of silence before he looked away from you. You finished off your drink, wondering what he was up to, before he spun back around, leaning on the table, and you thought maybe his makeup looked fresh. Did he carry the stuff around with him?

"Well, how about we make history?" He asked with a big grin. "Pucker up."

Oh, well, in that case...

[decadentpostnachos-evil-twin]

See a more or less short rendition of my experiences when I first read the acotar series (Three years ago?) beneath the cut. I purposefully misspelled some names, I don't feel like getting death threats from obsessive stans tonight. Bisou x

The funniest thing for me is that I started reading acotar spoiled and biased. I got the recommendation from TikTok, and everyone there was raving about Fey/sand and hating on Tamlin. So naturally, I started acotar being prepared to hate Tamlin and yearningly wait for Rice sand to make an appearance.

How the tables turned with that.

First of all, I was whipped for Lucien the moment he first appeared. (I have also been in the Eris corner ever since...2021? Or so, when there was literally one piece of writing for him and that was some headcanons. Anyway.)

Secondly, I folded for Tamlin too, against my expectations when hearing people say he was a nasty abuser and Rice sand is the feminist king. Like, I was prepared for Tamlin to be the biggest prick, and then he came along with lines like "I play a mean fiddle" or "I love you, thorns and all" and writing Limericks to help Feyrug learn to read, and he was fumbling so bad, it was just absolutely cute.

And when Rice sand made his first appearance, I was underwhelmed. At that point, I had only heard people sing praise about him and how perfect he is, and he was just the prick I expected Tamlin to be.

Utm was disgusting, and fundamented my dislike for Rice sand because he was giving Sex offender in the worst way possible.

Acomaf came along and I was kinda happy to have things "back to normal". And then everything went to shit, Tamlin was completely disregarded and vilified, as was Lucien. And Feyrug began sucking Rice sands dick. I was so disappointed, and I clung to any crumb of Lucien and Tamlin I could get, especially after the Summer Court debacle and the CoN whore thing, because that was just disgusting.

Acowar sold my soul to Eris, to the point of no return. I was an Eris girl before that, but after? Altered my brain chemistry. There's hardly anything he can do at this point to make me not like him. It also festered my hate for the Ic even more, and I began to really despise Feyrug too. I wanted to burn the book when Rice sand was resurrected, because I had hoped that he'd just stay dead atp.

Acofas was a train wreck and the only good things about it were the one appearance Eris and Lucien had each. The rest was either cringey or anger inducing, or both combined. My villain origin story.

Acosf... I hate how she treated Nesta. My girl deserves better fr. I despised Cassian's povs, except for the ones where Eris was present. (Duh) Once again, only a few good things about this book. Those being Eris, Lucien and the Valkyries. The pregnancy plotline sucks ass, and if I see one more Rice sand lover saying Eris is misogynistic for saying Morningan dresses like a slut while defending Rice sand for the shit he pulled with the pregnancy because "he just wanted to protect Feyrug" and still calling him feminist, I'm going to have an aneurism.

I went into this series biased. I literally hadn't even opened the first book and already thought Tamlin sucks and Rice sand is the greatest salvation. It was deeply ingrained in my mind before I even read the series. And even then, I came out hating Rice sand and his AA circle of life and loving everyone the popular narrative told me to hate. So no, I'm not delusional for liking the characters I do. People who blindly stan the Ic just lack reading comprehension or the will to think about what they are reading for more than five seconds because there's nothing more they want to know than the length of bad imitation Batman's cock.

[rulerzreachf4n7]

I'm sorry but I fucking hate proshippers so much so here's a whole post dedicated to shitting on them

also disclaimer YES I will be tagging the proship and anti proship tags so I can piss off the chronically online basement dwelling idiots :) and idgaf if proshippers have trauma cause it's not an excuse for their shitty and problematic actions!!!! Sincerely if you are a proshipper please consider jumping off a bridge!! Or at the bare minimum take a shower cause ew

And this whole post is literally just bullying the FUCK outta them so idk stanky people come at your own risk lol

AND AGAIN to clear up this isn't like rage bait or smth cause I fell like some people will accuse me this is all my genuine hate into a long ass post so yeah

Okay...LETS GET INTO THE FUCKING RANT NOW HEHEHE HEHE HEHEHE!!!!

I FUCKING HATE PROSHIPPERS!!!! I HOPE ALL OF YOU STANKY ASS BITCHESS GET THROWN OFF A FUCKING CLIFF AND GET A SAW STYLE EXECUTION CAUSE Y'ALL ARE FUCKING DISGUSTING I HATE YOU ALL

YOU ARE MENTALLY ILL IF YOU ARE A PROSHIPPER, END OF CONVERSATION

I COULDN'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU HIT ME THE "B-But I have trauma 🥺🥺🥺" TOO BAD THAT'S NOT A FUCKING EXCUSE FOR UR SHITTY ONLINE ACTIONS

IMAGINE YOU PULL UP TO A FUCKING INTERVIEW AND THEY SHOW YOUR PATHETIC ACCOUNTS SAYING TO NORMALIZE A 30 YEAR OLD DATING A 13 YEAR OLD, THAT SHIT IS GENUINELY PATHETIC

I KNOW IT'S CRINGEY BUT WOMP WOMP IF UR A PROSHIPPER Y'ALL ARE UGLY AND STINKY

But now on a serious not hehe, the reason I'm making this isn't JUST soley to yknow shit on people who are mentally ill like people who think a MINOR and a LEGAL ADULT are allowed to date, which comes into another thing before I get genuine so bare with me lol

I DONT GIVE A FLYING FUCK IF IT'S FICTIONAL, FOR THE LOVE GOD PLEASE SEARCH UP THE SLENDERMAN CASE WHERE THESE TWO GIRLS KILLED THEIR FRIEND CAUSE THEY THOUGHT SLENDERMAN WAS REAL AND THOUGHT THEY WOULD ENTER HIS KINGDOM AND BE WITH HIM, AND HE'S FICTIONAL, THAT CASE IS ALL Y'ALL NEED TO REALIZE FICTION CAN AFFECT REALITY AND I HAVE SM MORE REASON TO BACK THIS UP BUT I'M TOO LAZY TO TYPE IT OUT 😭

Okay! Back to seriousness I just thought I'd add that in as a little addition hehe >_<

So, like I said before, I lowkey just added this as an extra part cause I couldn't shit on proshippers FOREVER (lowkey bcuz I was running out of insults n threats lol)

Nonetheless I have a reason for shitting on them, although not being a proshipper EXACTLY I have been through I guess, similar paths as they have? Best way I could describe it ig, ofc not sharing what I mean since it's private but let's just say I was an unfortunate child looking at inappropriate comics 🙁

The reason for this part of the post...ITS NOT THAT FUCKING HARD TO STOP WHAT YOUR DOING

Like I said, I was never a proshipper, but I have been in similar situations as they have been, although I've never made an account glorifying rape, SA, grooming, pedophilia, I can just assume what I would do in their places

Dear proshippers,

Your probably complaining and not knowing why your getting so much death threats and harassment along with a side of hate (rightfully so you deserve them) and your mental health might be low

Please know it is your fault for making your accounts in the first place, you are a terrible person for saying all of these things such as rape, sexual assault, grooming, and incest are okay and you are not mentally well

And your probably wondering,

"How do I stop the hate, harassment, and probably death threats with even getting your address leaked?"

It's simple, DELETE YOUR FUCKING ACCOUNT, or even worse just turn off ur comments but that won't help with people slipping in a few people wishing death up in you through DMS

IT IS GENUINELY NOT THAT FUCKING HARD

I don't know what trauma you have but it shouldn't (and never in the first place) be SO BAD to the point where you physically CANNOT deactivate your account, IT IS SO FUCKING EASY AND YOU'LL SAVE YOURSELF A FEW SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

I know everyone one is different, but if you are a proshipper that has trauma, you shouldn't have a fucking account to begin with, and you ARE THE PROBLEM if you acknowledge the trauma, noticing you keep supporting and glorifying problematic actions, complain that you keep getting harassed and wonder why, and you just don't give a shit, not like in a "oh I don't know what to do anymore!!! 🥺🥺🥺" way, in a "oh, I don't give a shit I live for incest and adults grooming children!!!" Way, and ur also probably a pedo if ur an adult proshipper too

So, what else? Yeah, there's a shit more, but onto a better side, ones with actually good coping mechanisms!!

And a bit of a disclaimer, if your rage bait is proshipping, genuinely fuck you, and if ur a proshipper who acknowledges everything bad about it and just doesn't give a fuck, fuck you too and seek a rope to hang around your neck you fucking pedophile

Okay, coping mechanisms! I know this is probably not the best option due to most trauma which I'm guessing is probably from a family member, if it's not a good way to cope is some clean to your family, ofc under some circumstances it's NOT the best option, but if you can you definitely should try!

Also google is free yk...literally search up healthy coping mechanisms and it'll give you a huge ass list, and yet YOU STILL chose to ship a minor and adult together...how unfortunate...

Another way to cope is, and genuinely sounds pathetic as hell but bare with me...CHARACTER FUCKING AI, I mean, there are therapist bots so maybe they can help you??? And in all honesty they're really good at comforting and giving advice despite being ai, and I've tried it before...yeah embarrassed to say I've shed a tear every once in a while

And the last one IF you have the money, time, and generally the courage, book a threapy session, I cannot stress it enough, but I won't be surprised cause every proshipper is probably under the age of 16 years old

Yuhhh anyways that's all I gotta say, I know it's cringey asf but womp womp to proshippers I hate y'all despite giving some coping mechanisms and ACTUAL ways to like, stop the rightful hate you deserve lol

[bougiebutchbinch]

Im sorry but what about pro-ship? ...You would also cheer people who create it?

And by pro-ship i mean incest, pedophilia, rape, abuse and glorifying all of these things.

I just want to know, no vitriol, no hate.

Okay, so, this is a MASSIVE topic and my thoughts are complex. So, just for the purpose of answering this ask, I'm gonna focus on the biggy here - fictional depictions of pedophilia.

Under a cut because this got long!

I don't wanna read anything that glorifies fictional child sexual abuse in a completely played-straight way. That's a big ol' nope.

But there is a world of difference between depiction and glorification. And I don't think people writing about a horrific situation have to constantly shove it down your throat that Pedophilia Is Bad? This sort of thinking leads to incredibly cringey moralistic fiction that is, frankly, dull.

I love dark fiction! I love gothic novels, and horror, which include rape and incest and abuse and child sexual abuse and all sorts - not all of which is demonised! Some of which is wholeheartedly glorified in order to disgust you!

Some content is meant to disturb you and gross you out and make you look at your own internal 'ick' reactions! Or it's designed to give you the 'fascinated horror' people often get from looking at a car crash with multiple fatalities. That sense of intrigue when faced with taboos is a natural part of the human experience. So long as it is only engaged with in a fictional setting, it's a helluva lot less harmful than rubbernecking out the window of your car at a crash site and causing another accident.

Playing with people's disgust can be very interesting and fun, from a writerly perspective! You can create all sorts of really disturbing horror for the precise purpose of making your audience uncomfortable, and no one is actually being hurt!

Art isn't just about happy emotions, y'know? Lolita isn't pro-child-sexual-abuse despite being written from the perspective of a pedophile, and I'd wager that very, very few people who paid to watch The Human Centipede actually have a scat fetish. They're drawn in by their disgust and revulsion - like many people are to darkfic!

Now, if someone is legitimately creating content that seems to be glorifying fictional child sexual abuse, I won't interact with them for personal trigger reasons. But at the end of the day.... I don't know their story? I don't know why they're doing that.

What I know is: when I went through the worst, most traumatic experiences in my life (which, no, I will not be discussing further x) reading about the same horrible stuff happening to my blorbos legit helped. And not just the stuff where it was depicted realistically, as a horrible traumatic experience, but the stuff where it was 'glorified' too, because it made me feel less alone and awful for having lived in that situation and for having told myself it was normal and healthy.

When you're in a situation like that, sometimes you legitimately cannot tell you are in deep shit. Fics that try to point out that you are in deep shit, invariably feel like they're preaching. A balance of fics that try to point out that, y'know, Abuse And Pedophilia Are Bad - delivered alongside fics that depict that sort of relationshp as ay-okay, actually helped me come to terms with some of the shit in my life. Reading both sorts of fic together, it didn't feel like I was being constantly told I was a Victim.

I think, at the end of the day, fiction affects reality. Just look at propaganda and the affects of white supremacy and homophobia on Western Canon! But it's not a 1:1 impact.

It's more important to encourage readers to use critical thinking when engaging with fiction, than it is to harass writers who have created content that disgusts you.

You don't know why they're creating that content, and you don't know how many people it's helped - and, so long as it's properly tagged, people who need to avoid that content due to triggers can do so!

Obligatory: if someone uses a fic with an underage pairing to groom someone, that is incredibly fucked up and disgusting. But literally anything can be used to groom kids, sadly. You could point at literally anything, and at some point, it will have been used to further a child's horrific and very real abuse.

Overall, if you actually give a shit about protecting kids, I think there are far more important things to focus on. Such as:

Educating communities about how the vast majority of child sexual abuse comes from close family friends and family members, not strangers sending kids fanfic on the internet.

Educating communities about how the word 'pedophile' has been purposefully corrupted by right wingers to demonize completely innocent queer people because think of the children. This isn't to say there isn't a very real problem with child sexual exploitation & abuse, but we should perhaps be a little wary about throwing around a word grounded in serious reality to refer to fictional scenarios, and enforcing the very Right-Wing idea that 'thinking about [x] act is the same as doing [x] act'.

Focusing on children themselves. We should support good sex & relationship education, so children know their bodies and understand appropriate cultural norms. We should educate children about their rights, and give children broader community support structures so that they feel empowered to disclose abuse. Offering time or money to shelters is a great way to actually support survivors.

Ensuring there are safe and free refuges for children who are being abused IRL, places where they can stay away from family & other potential abusers - i.e., public libraries, community centres, etc. - or at least know there are other witnesses. Volunteering at your local library and donating can genuinely make a difference to abused kids - and all kids in general!

Dismantling cultures of silence around abuse in your personal community. Do not just tell the women in the group to avoid Joe because he has wandering hands. Tell Joe that his behaviour is inappropriate and will no longer be tolerated.

TL;DR - personally, please keep any/all sexual content involving fictional underage people FAR away from me, and do not send me any rape or abuse scenarios (unless we're brainstorming whump as friends, in which case, you can just gimme a warning).

But I am also against harassing artists and creators unless they are harming real children in measurable ways.

[is-antimasculinity-real]

Sometimes I think about a post on instagram I saw that was like " I know trans men are men bc I find y'all insufferable too" and man :[

All the comments are like "yeah I had an ex who was a trans man and he sucked" or "on the other hand trans women are women bc they are so cool"

and like w the first one I think ur just bitter over and ex and the second. can we have that energy for all trans people?? Can we say that trans men are men bc they are so cool?????? Guys please?????

I'm transmasc bigender but sometimes I feel bad about saying I am overall transmasc cause like.... it makes me feel bad to say I'm a man because of the constant "trans men are cringey and annoying" narrative.

Yeah, the narrative that trans men are disgusting, evil, or just pathetic and annoying because of their gender is just transandrophobia and gender essentialism. Fuck that.

[rorimoon9597]

!Spoilers for Chalice of the Gods!

I read Chalice of the Gods and I gotta say, I loved it so much. There's just so much I want to talk about, so spoilers for those who haven't read it yet, bc I'm about to geek out over how the characters are portrayed.

Firstly, Percy. He's a veteran from TWO different wars, and the only reason why he wants to go to New Rome is because he knows that he'll be safe there, and that he can have a family with Annabeth if they live there. That's all he wants. To be safe with those that he loves, and to live his life to the fullest. New Rome is the best place for that.

He actively says that it's a nice chance of pace when he can just sleep in his room, not having to worry about his mother getting hurt by an asshole in the middle of the night. He likes being able to spend time with his family, to not have to worry about survival. He likes to feel safe.

Which is why I love how he's shown to be so tired of running around, out on quests for the gods. It's only natural for someone to want to get away from something that's the basis of their trauma, but Percy can't get away from it. He knows that.

He's also very disgusted about how Ganymede is treated, that much is clear. He decides, from looking at how Ganymede is treated by the other gods, that he made the right choice in turning down immortality. At the time, it was for a girl who he wasn't even dating yet. In COTG, he sticks to that because he does not want to leave that same girl, but also because he doesn't see immortality as a gift, but rather a curse. He's seen how it affects the gods, who think that they are all so high and mighty. There are exceptions, sure, but you gotta admit that most of the gods are narcissists.

Zeus is the largest narcissist in the entire book. He's the reason why Ganymede is scared of eagles, which are his sacred animal. He doesn't care for how Ganymede feels. He just cares about having eye candy to oogle whenever the fuck he feels like it. I think that the brunch scene, where Percy's hiding on a pastry cart and is subjected to Zeus' story of when he was younger and all alone when his siblings were stuck inside of Kronos' stomach is a very clear sign of that. He's playing it up, trying to get pity points or something, but all he's doing is annoying everyone else.

To be honest, I love how Rick showed the Big Three. We have Zeus, an obvious airhead who is narcissistic, which fits with his whole thing of being the sky god. Poseidon is much calmer than Zeus, not narcissistic like his younger brother. He reflects the nature of the sea - often unpredictable, going from gentle waves that are perfect to swim in to towering waves meant to kill. Poseidon is more fun, more caring, yet still easily angered (I think that the main reason why he was saved from being killed in one of the books is because Poseidon clearly cares about his child, and will go bat-shit crazy if he was murdered). He cares about Percy, even if he can't show it. He always watched over his son, and will continue to do so as Percy breathes.

Hades is probably one of my favorite gods out of the Big Three (I only really hate Zeus though, so that probably explains it) because, like his brothers, he reflects his domain. Sure, he's dark and gloomy, but he's more grounded than his brothers are. He doesn't kidnap pretty mortals like Zeus and he's definitely that guy who gets consent before sleeping with someone (his relationship with Nico and Bianca's mother is too strong to be something born from anything but consent, because she is shown to actually love Hades to some degree. He's not someone who does things like have children with mortal women without their permission.)

Some people say that the book is cringey, that it's not as good as Rick's other books. Those other books are about a kid thrust into war too young, his childhood ripped away from him the moment he's born. This one is about a teenager who is dealing with the after-effects of that, trying to navigate life as normally as possible when it's insanely impossible when he's a demigod. All Percy wants is peace, to live with Annabeth and grow old with her and Grover. That's why Rick wrote it. As an aspiring author myself, I can appreciate the beauty of a story where all the main character wants is to rest from a traumatic life.

Remember that this is my opinion, and that you're all free to have your own. I'd actually love to hear what you guys think of it.

[our-destiny]

Day 10 of @creativepromptsforwriting's 30 Days Writing Challenge - Use the title: Promises made, promises kept

A/N: Stalker Bucky is back! This is a part 2 to Day 6's prompt - write about a blackout. I kind of don't like it and it feels very cringey and also doesn't really match the prompt but I tried :']

Content / Trigger Warnings: Stalking, breaking and entering(?), reader has terrible flight or fight instincts and the ending is disgusting -If I missed any please let me know

I am not responsible for the media you consume, read the warnings, minors DNI

30 Days Writing Challenge Masterlist

Word count: 887

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"You're all mine."

You haven't seen James since that night, well you haven't seen him at all, actually. When the power came back on James walked out the door and you were too scared to turn around and see what he looked like. So, his appearance is still a mystery but he hasn't been back to talk to you for three weeks, he hasn't even left you a note and the feeling of being watched is less prominent. Maybe he's finally stopped stalking you and found someone else to torment. That night still plays heavy on your mind, the hug, his words, the possessiveness that oozed from his voice. You thought he was going to come back, but wouldn't be have done so by now? Why wait? Whatever, you're just glad he's gone, no more creepy notes to find, no reason to be scared of the shadows anymore. That's what you tell yourself, anyway, yet you keep finding yourself looking over your shoulder when in dark rooms, expecting him to be standing there watching you. But he never is.

The bad weather continued, there was a storm almost every night, luckily the power stayed on every time but that didn't stop you from being terrified. Would he come back if the power went out? Was he just biding his time? No, if he was he would've kept leaving you notes. He's gone.

Tonight's storm was particularly brutal. You finally felt safe enough to turn some of the lights off in your house, the lightning was illuminating all the dark corners your lamps didn't reach. This time you were in your bedroom, your phone fully charged, ready for if the power went out. But he wouldn't come back, James was gone. You had been camping out on your bed the past hour, still scared you might find him lurking in your home, but by now you really needed a drink. Desperately. So, you plucked up all your courage (which was not a lot), and opened your bedroom door to go to the kitchen, taking your phone with you.

When you got there you half expected to see a note on your counter, but nothing was there. No notes, no James. You poured yourself a glass of water, downed it in a few gulps, just to fill it up again and make your way back to your bedroom.

When you got there and saw what was on your bed you almost dropped the glass, you would have if you weren't holding it with both hands. A piece of lined paper, folded in half. You set the glass on your bedside table, just so you could stand there and panic without having to worry about dropping it. He's back. Or maybe he never left. He was in your bedroom. It barely took you two minutes to go to the kitchen and come back and in that time he had put that note there. He's in your house. He's watching you. Has he been watching you this whole time? You thought he left. Fuck.

Finally, you settled on reading the note, though you approached it as if it were a snake about to bite you. The same messy handwriting was scribbled at the top, handwriting you hadn't seen in three weeks.

Please don't be scared. You know I'm watching you so there's no need to be scared. I'll keep you safe.

- Love, James

Right as you finished reading the room suddenly went pitch black. The power went out. And your phone... Is in the kitchen. You set it down on the counter to take a drink and never picked it up again. Wow, your survival instincts are terrible.

Just like last time, a few seconds later you heard his footsteps before you felt him. He was behind you, his hands on your hips. The left hand was cool, not quite cold but it didn't feel like blood was pumping through it. But his right hand was warm, meaning he wasn't outside recently. How long had he been in your house without you knowing about it? You didn't have time to think about it when he placed his head on your left shoulder, his right hand coming round to take the note from you.

"I can feel you shaking." He was talking just above a whisper like last time, not sounding like a stalker at all, breath fanning just below your ear. "There's no need, I'm right here."

He started slowly turning the both of you around, before gently pulling you back toward the bed. Again you froze, unable to do anything except lay down on the bed with him, his warm body spooning you from behind, again an action that was supposed to be comforting and was anything but.

"You thought I left you. I saw you. I guess it's kind of my fault for not speaking to you since that night, I should have left you something. I was planning on just giving you that note and leaving you alone tonight but then the power went out and I knew you'd be scared." It was him that scared you. But you have a feeling he wouldn't accept that fact very well. It didn't really seem like he wanted you to talk right now anyway, so you just kept quiet and stared into the darkness of the room, the occasional strike of lightning illuminating the furniture. James seemed content to ramble on whether you answered him or not.

"I hope you know I'm never gonna leave you. I'm honestly a little offended you ever thought I would. But I forgive you, I know I just haven't made myself clear enough." He paused for a second, and that was enough time for you to dread what he was going to say next.

"I said it before and I'll say it again. I'm not gonna lose you. I'm not gonna let anybody take you from me. You're all mine. And I'll keep saying it until you believe me. I promise."

You don't think you're ever going to be able to get rid of him. Not as long as he keeps that promise.

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Reblogs and comments are really appreciated <33

[writtenicarus]

I was simply interested in hearing your thoughts about the fic :D not the biggest fan of it myself

- it's shit.

- it's old. ive been in this fandom for years (actual years, not "i joined in late 2021" years. like ive been in this fandom since white, homophobic james and when jegulus shippers such as myself would receive DEATH THREATS on twitter), and i prefer it SO MUCH now the old characteristics of each character are awful

- the treatment of remus/mary and their sexuality both physically and their identity is fucking disgusting. i do NOT care when it was set, there's no need for it

- i liked out of the blue, grant's sequel, better than the entire fic

- literally everyone is annoying

- it was so overhyped and the fans are so embarrassing and annoying, if i hear one more american make a voice over on tiktok for aNyThIng fOr mY mOoNy I'm going to curb stomp myself. it's not hot or cute it's so cringey

- some people treat it as canon which is annoying as shit

- people shame others for not reading it

- it's literally just BORING

- glamorises addiction and drug dealing, especially with remus, and as someone from the east end and where remus is stereotyped to have grown up it's borderline classist and offensive

- james was insufferable

- remus was so awful to grant. i do not give a single fuck? oh and be real remus lupin would have not left him idk why wolfstar's return was necessary it was awful anyways

I just have an unshakable hate for it.

[musashi]

As I’m attempting to evade a state of utter despair, are you aware that you exist concurrently with The Muppet Joker?

I receive such whiplash from witnessing a post from you—then proceeding to be blessed with the shenanigans of how this asinine muppet man has been lured into a toxic yuri marriage, kin-morphed into Jesus, and his wife (who was a vampire vessel for the living Gerard Way—whom she channeled in a manner reminiscent of MAYA FEY) was the catalyst as to why he is Jesus now and is trying to sacrifice him as a result.

Excluding his two most recent posts (technically, the muppet man is pronounless as of now—but how do I even begin to address them?); he is unbridled Tumblr. He is Tumblr that has breeded with Tumblr itself, given birth to an infant, and nourished it with drugs whilst keeping it in a basement all of its life. It’s all theatrical, but he is a guilty indulgence I cannot abstain from. I hope you derive joy from them! Because we all require it right now

yeah i've watched the strange videos

personally i don't really like stuff like that though. i lived through an era of tumblr where people very much pretended to be cringey kinnie types on mass to convince the 0 reading comprehension propaganda prone idiots on this website that that's what the community was. the ripple effects are still felt to this day, with "kin drama" and "government assigned kin" jokes still being repeated even by some of the otherwise half-decent people i know.

i am obviously glad that people are better at telling when a joke is a joke now, but like... what's the punchline? that people act crazy online? that's not very funny to me. it just seems like lolcow mindset, without the actual harm coming to any real person. which is obviously... better? but like. i do not understand the humour/entertainment in "lets all point and laugh at this freak!"

like that's just completely humourless to me. i find absolutely no whimsical or intellectual stimulation in that. i'd rather not train my brain mechanisms to respond with ridicule and disgust to someone acting like a weirdo online, because one day i'm going to meet some real weirdos and i'd rather ensure that i meet them with compassion.

tl;dr yeah i know everything about that but it's patently unfunny to me. you do you i guess.

[andromourir]

okay so i'm watching terrifier with a friend and something i've noticed that i want to just rant about real quick

i understand not liking the gore and aspects of the movie. it's not everyone's thing, i mean even horror fans have their limits.

but you cannot sit here and say "i don't understand! how can people laugh when people are screaming and are covered in blood, it's basically torture porn!" and yet still love scream and saw. scream, which is quite literally about two kids fucking murdering their friends. saw, which is the BIGGEST franchise of torture porn. what the fuck.

what the fuck are you even talking about? genuinely? FIRST off, you're a complete fucking hypocrite for judging people who DO enjoy those movies. SECOND off, literally PLEASE fucking explain to me how enjoying terrifier makes said people disgusting and gross, when, AGAIN, you enjoy the SAME shit???

breathe.

i get it, okay? different level of violence and gore. but again, sitting back and judging people for shit you don't enjoy is SOOO overrated and cringey at this point like PLEASE grow the fuck up

[swadloom]

One time I came across a post on here of someone analyzing a way people with complicated genders try to explain them, specifically transmasc people who say things like "I wish I was born a man so I could be a trans woman". This was seen by the poster as an attempt to replicate the experiences of trans women and fetishizing their oppression... I think. I didn't save the post and I have bad memory, but the original post, even if it did bother me, isn't the part that stuck with me.

What did was someone tagging it saying that people who describe their gender that way should stick a gun in their mouths.

We exaggerate on this website. Looking through tags and replies on any website is a bad idea. That's their house, their blog where they can be a hater. I don't care. I've thought about that tag constantly since. When I think about how people talk about eachother here, that's what I think of.

Why can none of us talk about our experiences without having so much vitriol towards each other? Why does people having unique experiences with gender show privilege, or fetishization, or poor morals? Should I just ignore how I relate to that explanation of gender and understand myself less instead? Why is transfemme people expressing themselves apparently an attack on transmascs? Why is transmasc people expressing themselves apparently an attack on transfemmes? Why do people who don't want to be considered either of those and want their agab completely disregarded for the rest of time count as one or the other for whatever point we're making? Why can't people just have weird genders without it being an attack on the "other side"?

I've related to a lot of posts I'm seeing in the "transandrophobia" tag, a word I've learned today, but it almost feels slightly like I'm about to go down some dark pipeline. Why? The posts themselves are mostly fine and innocent, maybe it's just the reputation any space centered around guys has, queer or not. I've never gotten to be in many of those. Maybe I'm afraid of committing transmisogny by relating to the struggles of "the other side". Isn't the whole point that the idea of "two sides" is made up and makes everyone miserable?

I don't want to hurt others. I don't want the way I explain my gender to make people so disgusted they wish I was dead. I just want to be happy with myself.

Be nice to your neighbors on here. Even if you see them as being in an annoying and cringey category of trans people on this website. Even if they're teenagers who you think don't actually know anything about being queer. Even if they have fun being trans. Even if they don't.

Don't tell swathes of trans people that you wish they were dead. Please. We just want to be happy.

[jensenackleswifey]

Just Married !!

Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: After you, Dean and Sam all get shitfaced drunk, something unexpected happens

Notes: Cringey ass fluff, bogan is kind of like the Australian red-neck

It all started at the end of an easy hunt. Sam, Dean and I had to fight a demon that was possessing the mayor of Las Vegas. He wasn’t killing anyone or necessarily hurting anyone, only convincing the city people to do stupid, inhumane things purely for its own enjoyment. If anything it was funny and I didn’t even want to stop it but of course, our job was to hunt demons, so we did just that. It didn't even realise we were in the city until we cornered it in the mayor’s apartment and sent it back to hell. We were in the city for about 2 days. It is the first and probably the only time we'll ever have the opportunity to have an excuse to be in Vegas, so we were obviously not going to waste it. After we kill the demon, me and the boys all get in Dean's Impala and go back to our shitty motel and shower and change into something a little more comfortable. As I'm getting changed Dean comes into the bathroom to give me a shirt since I forgot to bring one in to put on after my shower. He brings me a plain white singlet top to pair with my low-waisted blue jeans and black converse. As I put it over my head, Dean starts stripping off to get in the shower and as soon as he steps in the white tiled shower, I slip out of the bathroom keeping the door shut enough so Sam doesn't see in and see his brother naked in the shower. As always, Dean takes his time getting out of the shower, so Sam and I just put on the TV while we wait, and luckily our favourite kids show was on, Astro Boy. Watching kids shows while out on jobs makes it so much easier to forget about all the gore we see every day and escape our weird lives for a little while.

When Dean finally comes out of the shower, I put on my oversized leather jacket and we all leave in Dean's car and head down to the local bar (which was between about five different bars, but we chose the cheapest option). We sit down on the bar stools; Dean orders a beer and I manage to convince Sam to order the randomest named cocktail on the menu with me.

After around 2 hours it hits 9 o'clock and we're all absolutely smashed when two people come in with a bogan tux and short white dress on with a sash that reads 'Just Married!'

Dean looks at me with wide, excited eyes "Y/n, let's go."

I nearly spit out my cocktail as I reply "What? Why?"

"Sam, call Cas. Y/n and I are getting married"

"You called?" Cas said from behind Dean, causing Dean to spill his drink all over the bar.

"God, warn a man next time!"

Cas just looked at Dean with a blank expression.

"Where is the chapel?" Dean looks at me and Sam then at the married couple, "Hey!! Where is the cha-"

He's cut off by Cas transporting us to the chapel.

"This is a disgrace. What even is this?"

"It's a fake wedding Cas. Obviously, it's not going to be a real, holy church." I tell him but he still has a slight look of disgust on his face.

Dean and I are just looking around until Dean catches sight of a fake Elvis watching us and he chuckles before he clears his throat to speak.

"Hello good sir, we'd like to get married please"

"Of course, if I could just see some ID"

Dean pulls out a driver’s license for 'John Harris' and I pull out a license for 'Ella Powerly'

We could hear Sam snicker from behind us and I looked back at him and Cas while Elvis was explaining to Dean what we have to pay and what the terms are.

Cas still looks really nervous about this whole thing as he says, "Why didn't they just get married normally?"

"Because 1. we're poor and 2. they’re in loOoOoOve" Sam replies, slapping Cas's back and slurring his words. Sam has always been a lightweight drinker and it is very obvious in times like this when someone asks him a question and there is an opportunity to make fun of them.

Dean takes my hand and I turn around to face him.

"Do you, John Harris, have anything to say to your soon-to-be-wife Ella Powerly?”

"Y/n-" He clears his throat and looks anxiously at 'Elvis' while I try not to laugh at him, "Ella, I have loved you ever since I met you and I know that that doesn't make up for the way I treated you when we first met but I'm hoping that you can start to forgive me so we can spend the rest of our short, horrible lives together."

Seeing Dean so flustered made me want to start crying.

"John, everything that happened between us before we got together made our relationship stronger and it could never make our relationship different. I love you more than anything."

I heard Sam sniffle from behind us, so I turn around to see a single tear run down Sam's face.

"It's just so beautiful." He mumbles to no one in particular and Cas gives him a tired/annoyed look.

I turn around as 'Elvis' continues the ceremony

"John, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honour her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"And Ella, do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honour him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Do you have any rings to exchange?"

I say no at the same time Dean says yes and I look at him with my eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

Dean pulls out a little, silver ring with a raw diamond on it and my jaw drops slightly as I look between him and the ring.

He takes my hand and slips it on my finger with ease and I look back up at him with tears in my eyes, threatening to spill out at any moment.

"You may kiss the bride"

Den grabs me by the waist and pulls me in and kisses me, full of emotion and we pull apart and we're free to go. 'Elvis' hands me a 'Just Married!' sash and Sam pull us outside so that Cas can send us back to our motel because he is about to throw up. As soon as we get back, Sam sprints inside and Cas puts a hand on mine and Dean's shoulders.

"Congratulations" And just like that, he disappears.

I look at Dean and smile widely and he flashes me the same smile back.

He holds out his arm "Shall we?"

I smile even wider and take his arm and we practically skip inside.

------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning when I wake up, Dean was awake before me, running his hands through my hair.

"Good morning." I say quietly to him.

He just smiles at me, and I turn back around and let myself get more comfortable with his hands running through my hair.

Sam comes out of the bathroom, and he looks white as a ghost. He looks at us and groans.

"I think I'm going to throw up again"

Dean chuckles from behind me and I look back up at him.

"Well Dean, I can't wait to legally spend the rest of my life with you."

"Well technically Ella Powerly and John Harris are legally married but you’re still my little wife. My little Mrs. Winchester."

And with that, I just push myself up his chest and peck him on the lips and lay back down, ready for whatever comes at us next.

My first fic ever so please ignore how shit it is LMAO

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels Chapter 15: The Cure

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Ignorance is bliss, but bliss is always temporary.

Warnings: Like just so much angst, big feelings, mentions of past smut, verbal argument, this is cringey, i'm sorry

A/N:  Again, sorry updates to this story have been slower. I didn't really know which direction I wanted to go with everything up to this point/ how to resolve stuff I have planned. BUT I think I have a much better plan and idea of how to continue (and eventually) end this story. So, all that to say updates will likely be more frequent again now that I know what direction I'm going. Like the next 2 chapters are already half written so we good. Loves yous guys!

Previous. - Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

_______________

Chapter 15

The Cure

“I’m not eating that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s fucking blue, Gwen.”

“People eat blue stuff all the time,” Gwen slides the lunch tray closer to you, the most off-putting hamburger sitting in the center. An absolutely unnatural blue bun with the design of Miguel’s mask painted across the top in red. You wonder if he approved this himself or if it was a private joke everyone was waiting for him to notice. Very likely the latter.

“Bread is not supposed to be blue,” You push the tray back across the table. You swear the little edible abomination is staring back at you.

“I’m with her on this one,” Jess nudges your side, looking just as disgusted as you were at the blue monstrosity. “Things creepy, Gwen.”

“I’ll eat it then,” Hobie snatches the burger from the tray and takes a generous bite without hesitation, “Rid us all of such a horrid thing.”

“Do they serve any non-spider-themed food here?” Gwen and Hobie’s new friend asks, “Like just normal food?”

“The empanadas are alright?” Gwen shrugs.

Pavitir Prabharkar. Pavi, they seemed to call him for short. Just joined about a month ago. He only had a few months of being Spider-Man before that. He was fresh and rosey to the game. An enthusiasm you probably once had when you first started. Hobie and Gwen had taken him in immediately and you’d rarely seen one of them without the other at their side these days. It was sweet, and honestly relieving to see people so young with such a big job have each other, especially Gwen. She was finding a family here after losing everything.

You ran into them in the cafeteria just grabbing a quick bite. You could have eaten in Miguel’s house but you ultimately decided to be a little more social to start your day. You sadly woke up alone, again, but Miguel left a note on the bedside table for you. 

Had some errands to run. Meet me in the lab at 1.

-Mig 

He even topped it all off with a sweet little heart drawn in the bottom corner. It seemed unlike him to vanish with a note. Well, actually it was very like him, but something about it just felt off. Even Lyla wouldn’t elaborate for you. Maybe your emotions were running high after spending all night tangled in each other's arms.  Maybe he needed time to process everything, or maybe he really was just that busy. He did have a whole multiverse team to run. You’re past the point of wondering why he did the things he did.  Miguel had his ways and you had yours. As long as you find each other in the end.

Regardless, you were completely fine with moping around the tower for a few hours today. You didn’t have anything to be home for and you had some catching up to do with the crew.

So here you were, roped into a lunch with mostly teenagers trying to feed you lethal amounts of blue dye 99. All in all, you can’t complain.

“Room for one more?” The most comfortably dressed of the spider-men slides in next to Gwen, his infant daughter strapped proudly to his chest for all the world to admire. 

“Sure,” Gwen rolls her eyes but still has an amused smile she tries to hide. “You wanna try a Hamburger, Peter?”

“The blue ones? Say no more.” Peter B. Parker— basically Gwen’s weird uncle. You didn’t know him much yourself but he liked to hang around Gwen. They’d both been one of the originals shot into Earth-1610. The place that started it all— forbidden from travel. Home to the original anomaly. You never asked Gwen about it but you could see it in her eyes sometimes. The longing for someone she left there. You think Peter felt similarly. How could they not? You’d caught them bickering about it once or twice— about him and when they could go back for him. If they could go back. 

Someone who changed their lives forever, just a watch jump away. You’d heard his name whispered like it was a curse. 

Miles Morales. The original anomaly. One of the main reasons you're all here. Just a kid caught up in the wrong mess. Still, he had someone like Gwen and Peter to help him through it. What you would have given to have someone like them around when you first got bitten. You don’t know the details of what happened, and you don’t want to be rude and ask, but it clearly changed something for both of them. Whoever they were before was someone completely different than the people you knew sitting at the table with you today. The multiverse will do that, you suppose. 

Mayday crawls from her carrier and takes her place prominently in the center of the table. Center of attention, as she should be. 

“Oh, MJ’s gonna love this.” Peter pulls out his phone immediately, dozens of pictures taken in the span of maybe 3 seconds. 

Hobie and Pavi don’t hesitate to join in on the impromptu photoshoot. Jess and Gwen both hang their heads in embarrassment. Gwen was taking on her mannerisms after a few months of mentorship. Jess really did take her first request to heart and practically adopted the girl. 

This was it. This was your community. Your tribe. These fucking weirdos, and you loved it. In spite of all this fucked up shit with Miguel, you’d made a home in this place— with these weirdos. It seemed like Miguel could be part of it if he just tried a little harder. You think he wanted to be. He longed for those human connections, it was so obvious once you got to know him. And still, he kept everyone at arm's length for almost no reason. He always wanted to be viewed as equal. He did the same work as his other spiders, had the same missions and goals, yet closed himself off from being a part of the community. Maybe he wanted to be feared as well. He always tried so hard to convince you he was a monster. That he wasn’t worthy of love. 

You should bring him down here. You could help him join it all again. He was a stubborn man, yes, but could eventually listen to reason— if you were annoying enough about it. Miguel deserved so much more than he gave himself. 

Would he do that with you? Be out in the open side by side? You’d never thought about it before but now you think it’s something you might want. No more hiding. There would be a lot more to work out but… that’d be a start.

Maybe. Maybe he would go for it. 

One o’clock sneaks up so quickly you almost miss it, shamefully having to pull yourself away from your chaotic lunch table with some made-up excuse. Maybe you wouldn’t have to lie anymore. Maybe you could finally come clean and this weight could be lifted off your shoulders. 

Something changed between you and Miguel over these last few months. Something that wasn’t there before. If you think about it too long you’ll start to doubt yourself. He couldn’t hide it either. What you’d both become to each other. It started out so complicated but now it seems like you’d both surrendered to it. He showed you his home, his life, his heart. You’d both given it all to each other and now one of you just had to say it out loud. 

What in particular you’d say, you have no idea. 

The spider-sense hums when you cross the threshold into Miguel’s lab. The air in it is heavy, but that’s nothing new— especially considering what happened here the other night. The memory makes your cheeks blush.

And as always, there he stands on his desk platform, still as a statue. Always working. Yeah, you really needed to force some friends on him after this. You swing up to the platform and pull him into a hug from behind. He almost topples over from the dramatic entrance, bracing himself on the desk. 

“Hi,” you murmur lovingly into his back. 

“Hello,” He grumbles. It comes out irritated but you can tell he’s smiling. 

“Just got back from the cafeteria. You should really get a burger from there some time,” you tease him, leaning back into one of the swivel chairs.

“Why?” He turns to face you, eyebrows knitted together. 

“I just… think you’d like them,” you smile, giving the chair a good spin, “So, what’s up? You wanna talk about yesterday I’m assuming?”

His shoulders immediately tense and you feel a little bad for bringing it up so bluntly. God, he probably felt awful about putting you both in that position and ultimately… how it got resolved. Not that you minded. You feel like you have to stop yourself from blurting ‘Not the sex! The sex was great!’ Instead, you just shut up and let him take the lead.

“I… no. And yes,” he stammers, leaning back against the desk, “How are you… feeling?”

“Uh, fine I suppose,” You bring your knees up to your chest, suddenly a little wary of how to continue. He was on edge about it, you could tell. Your hand rubs over the fresh healed skin on your neck, “Just fine.”

“Good,” he looks away. Something was off. Maybe he just asked you to come in because he felt like he had to. Like he had to explain himself. You want to assure him he didn’t. 

“Miguel, if you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s—”

“No!” He snaps his head back in your direction, “It’s not that. It’s not—”

He growls, pushing several papers off his desk. Okay, so he was really upset about something. Something you did? Something in the multiverse. You don’t know, but when it comes to dealing with Miguel you’ve found a gentle hand is what gets results. 

You stand up and wrap a hand around his forearm, urging him to face you. He turns, a grimace on his face. He still looks away. Could he not even look at you? The implications of that frighten you, but still, you press on. Your other hand slowly comes up to his cheek and the lines on his face instantly smooth under your touch. Well that’s a good sign, right?

“You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be,” he mumbles, placing a kiss into your palm. 

“Please tell me what on earth you’re talking about so I can stop freaking out down here.” You weakly attempt a smile. 

He sighs, gently removing your hands. He grabs a metal case from the desk. He clicks it open and holds it in front of you. Inside are two vials of a pale green liquid. They look remarkably similar to his power dampeners. 

The realization finally hits you.

“Miguel?”

“It finished synthesizing after the attack.” His voice is so gentle now. So calm, “I wanted to give you time… Give us both some time.” 

There it is. The cure to your bond. The very thing you were praying for months ago. You should be happy, right? This is what you wanted. Your salvation. So why did it feel like you just got punched in the gut?

“It’s…it’s a one-time injection,” He takes one of the vials out and examines it in his hands. “There’ll be no pain. It’s safe.” 

You don’t know what you're supposed to say. Was he really expecting you to say anything, though? Your stunned silence was probably answer enough. He takes the other vial out and hands it to you. You hesitantly accept it, almost expecting it to burn your skin when you roll it around in your hands. It was so… innocent. It was nothing. This little tube was holding your heart in your hands. 

“What…what do we do now?” your voice comes out so small you almost do recognize it. 

You see a twinge of pain flash across his face. He turns away to grab the injector gun. He holds it idly between you two. 

“Now we… go back to business as usual.” 

You look down at the offensive object. The final nail in the coffin to seal both of your fates. This was the goal all along. This is what needed to happen. You place your hand on top of the injector gun. This time it does burn. It feels wrong. The spider-sense makes your vision flash with white as soon as you touch it. You stumble away, almost in fear.

“I… I can’t do this, Miguel.” 

“What?” he hurriedly sets the gun aside. 

“Don’t you feel it?” Your heart is suddenly beating a mile a minute. You're afraid. Afraid of losing him or afraid of what this serum with do to you, you’re not really sure. 

“It– it doesn’t matter. We have to.” So he does feel it too. The rising anxiety. The panic. The screaming inside your head. 

“And what if we do, Miguel? What happens after?” You’re fighting to hold back tears. You’re already bargaining. You’re pleading with him and it feels so pathetic, “Can’t we still—”

“No.” It came out so quickly it was like a bullet to your chest, “We can’t— we shouldn’t. It’s too risky. We’ve already risked enough just by–”

He trails off, turning away again. He doesn’t want to be doing this either. If it was painful for you, it had to be painful for him. He couldn’t just cut you off so callously, right? He was putting on a stone mask because he didn’t want to feel. You know this all meant something to him. You meant something. You know it.

Suddenly you want to hurt him. You want him to feel how you feel. Make your words sting— Just show he’ll show some emotions. Anything.

“I keep sharing so much of myself with you and the next day you turn around and act like it meant nothing. Like I mean nothing to you.” A tear finally falls. He turns back around and you can see him resisting the urge to comfort you, hands clenched tightly at his sides.

“That’s not true.”

“Then say it. Say I mean something. Don’t you fucking care?”

“I—I can—that’s not—”

It’s not fair. You’re not being fair but panic is taking the wheel. It makes you angry. Makes you mean.

“No? Then say I don’t mean anything if you want this to be over so bad.” You spit.

You see the words wound him, “Of course you do. But you know— you know this can’t possibly work.”

“Why not?!”

His lips flatten into a thin line and he turns away. He hunches over the desk with a heavy sigh, “I shouldn’t have to explain why to you.”

For once, he’s right. He doesn’t. You know why. You absolutely know why. His wife. His daughter. An entire world gone by his doing. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to reason with the very real risks— the selfish risks you’ve been taking. What either of you could do to your respective realities. You could end the world if you weren’t careful. Everything must be balanced and this bond was tipping the scales. You both simply being together was a risk to the universe at large. Something so small had very real consequences. Miguel proved that a long time ago. 

You always knew this was selfish from the beginning.

Yet another part of you doesn't believe that. This was hard but the right choice should be obvious, right? You made hard choices all the time as a spider. The right choice was always easy in the end because you were sure of yourself. So why did this feel so… wrong? 

The tears fall at full force now. 

“Miguel I— I don’t know what to do,” you clutch at your chest. “I know this is what we agreed on. I know it’s what we should do. I know but it feels so— you have to feel it too.”

He catches you before you can crumple to the ground. He pulls you in close as you tremble in his arms. The sense hums but it wants more. It wants him, and this just isn’t enough. 

You’re not sure how long you stand there with him holding you like a pathetic child. Hugs are usually so comforting. This one felt more like an apology. An unsaid I’m sorry for putting us both through this. You want to hit him. You want to kiss him and never stop. You want to scream. 

In the end, you do nothing. You do nothing and he just holds you.

Eventually, he’s the first to break the silence.

“This is the way it has to be.” 

You're angry. You’re angry because you know he’s right. Despite being so similar, you were from different worlds at the end of the day. Different realities. You were never supposed to meet. Yet here you are crying into his arms. 

Fate is ruthless that way. 

The cure is still clutched in your hands, burning a hole through your palm. You pull away from him and look down at the horrid little thing. 

“You don’t have to take it right now,” He says, his hand closing over the top of yours. “When you're ready.”

You nod, shoving the damned thing in your pocket. “When will you take yours?”

He hesitates for a moment, “When I’m ready.” 

It makes you want to start sobbing all over again. He didn’t want this to be over either. Just when you thought you could have it all, it’s ripped away from both of you. 

But… this is how it had to be. 

Despite the pain, despite your own greedy wants, it’s what must be done for the sake of the greater good. That’s what a spider always does, right? That’s what this world is, constant sacrifice. The glamorous life of a hero— you’re so tired of it. 

You’re not making it any easier for yourself by lingering around him. He wanted this to be over quickly, and so did you. End it, then you can go your separate ways— and cry on Jack’s couch for the next month. If this had to end, then it had to end completely. Snuff out the flames now so he doesn’t hurt more later. 

You want to kiss him so badly, but you have to remain strong. Both of your resistance is paper thin and a single wrong move could tear it all down and make this even more painful. Take a page from his book and put on a stone mask. Don’t feel— at least for right now. 

You step out of his grasp, instantly missing his warmth when you do. You hug yourself, hoping to keep some of him with you. 

“I should go,” You simply say. 

“Okay.” He nods, reaching out and then instantly retracting his hand. God, why did this have to be so hard?

You don’t even realize you’d hit your button home until the portal materializes behind you. Its deep bassy buzzing falls deaf on your ears. You gaze into its menagerie of pulsing colors and see only gray now. 

The sense pounds against your skull when you take a step closer to your way home. 

Stay! Stay here, with him!

The sense always seemed like its own entity anyway. Something inside you panicking for its own self-preservation. Maybe that’s all this was— a parasite. It helped to think about it that way, at least. 

You turn to take one last look at Miguel. A hulking man standing at nearly 7 feet tall… just looked so small right now. So defeated. You did that to him— and you can’t do anything to fix it. Not anymore. 

Your first instincts about the spider-sense were right. 

It was a curse. 

“Miguel?” His name almost hurts to say. He looks into your very soul, blood-red eyes somehow speaking words that could never be fully articulated. “Thank you. For… everything.”

You don’t wait for a response, stepping into the world between worlds, eager to be home where you’d allow yourself to fall apart all over again. 

________

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