#Michael has joined the party

[witheredapple]

Lucifer: Michael? What are you doing down here?

Michael: I heard you had a son with Diavolo and I thought it would be nice to see my nephew for the first time

Lucifer: Not your nephew, Michael

Michael: *Looks at Satan*

Satan: ?

Michael: *looks him up and down* hm, he’s not identical to Diavolo as they said he was

Michael: But I guess I can see a bit of Diavolo’s features in him

Satan: WHAT?!

[northopalshore]

𝜗𝜚 Union in the

Union persona chart

Union (1585) in the union persona chart tells you the first face to face meeting with your future spouse. Your first date or if you've met online it tells you the circumstances of meeting them physically. In this chart if union is in the same house or sign as Sun (or literally mirroring the sun's placements), that means the first time you meet is likely face to face or the same time you first get acquainted with them.

northopalshore's Union Masterlist | Main Masterlist | see my example

໒꒱ Aries (°1,°13,°25) | 1st House

You will take the initiative to do something, either going to meet them or inviting them somewhere. You could meet at a place that you want or decide for the both of you. Meeting outdoors, at the gym, going out for a walk or joining an activity together. Somewhere that's easy for you, somewhere sort of risky. Somewhere you are in control. You could want it to happen quickly too like being impatient to see them. Being somewhat protective about it; keeping it to yourself. For some, it means meeting young.

໒꒱ Taurus (°2,°14,°26) | 2nd House

Indoors, at home (either yours or theirs), at a restaurant, or somewhere luxurious and private. Somewhere warm and inviting. It could be somewhere romantic or involves purchasing something to get to/into. Somewhere safe, where you can relax and let your guard down. Could require money to get there like a fare or a significant amount being spent on your half. Could be related to familial ties. Could be prestigious social gatherings, weddings, concerts (in some cases).

໒꒱ Gemini (°3,°15,°27) | 3rd House

Bookstores, Internet cafes, classes ,together out with friends or just somewhere fun. Going on a short trip to a tourist place. Somewhere that may involve a lot of walking and talking. Perhaps out for a jog? Or a walk at the park. Somewhere a little loud. (Could be a cafe, some cafes are.. really loud lol). At a karaoke bar, or out with friends. At some sort of event (related to media or games).

Ex: Lisa Marie Presley has Union in the 3rd house in Taurus (° 1 Aries). She crossed paths with Michael Jackson numerous times since both were involved in the music industry (through her father Elvis Presley). Most of their meetings were at social entertainment events as far as I know. Like at the events, out with friends & Neverland Ranch. She likely di

໒꒱ Cancer (°4,°16,°28) | 4th House

You could meet them at your house, your hometown, literally could mean that you or them will be visiting your residence either for a date or just to hang out (especially if you met online). Meeting somewhere safe and comfortable to you. Your comfort zone, your regular hangout space. A hotel for some lol. Somewhere you can relax and laze around.

Ex: Jungkook has Union in the 4th house in Aries (°1 Aries) in this union persona chart. Literally meeting face to face at his house, or at his house for the first few dates. He will be the one inviting his spouse over. Insisting that they meet at his place privately.

໒꒱ Leo (°5,°17,°29) | 5th House

Usually means that you'll meet outdoors. At the beach, out for dinner or a meal together, at an amusement park, a bar or karaoke. Somewhere people gather to have fun and party or just celebrate something. It could be a place where people play jazz too. In some cases at home, school or at concerts & movie theaters. Some sort of club.

໒꒱ Virgo (°6,°18) | 6th House

You can meet up with them pretty often. Somewhere both of you frequent. Either that or you will both make the effort to see each other everyday or consecutively every week. Suddenly, they are a part of your daily schedule. Out of all the signs, this is the one that will cause you to be inseparable at first. (Aside from Gemini of course).

My friend with this placement went out with her (seemingly end game) boyfriend every single night from the moment they started dating. I feel like these two are impossible to pull apart. (Her union is in Virgo (°15 Gemini) in the 8th house in the upc). She even skipped classes to go see him ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ ⁠ᴥ⁠•̥⁠`⁠ʔ

໒꒱ Libra (°7,°19) | 7th House

While working, out shopping or providing service, going out on a romantic date together. There will be this composed yet still flirty undertone regardless of where you actually meet up/go out together for the first time. Could be at a restaurant, a wedding, or some sort of official ceremony. Could involve the law in some cases.

໒꒱ Scorpio (°8,°20) | 8th House

A very private meeting, with only the both of you involved. It could be a rather scandalous meeting too. It could be at their house, or there may be some "scandal" around it. Definitely indoors or at least a place with very few or no people. Somewhere with a very intimate setting. In some cases, it could be somewhere dangerous as well or even scary or haunted. Somewhere not a lot of people may be allowed to visit or go to. A reserved area. It could take you out of your comfort zone. Meeting at night too. In some cases it might involve prison, usually when concerning the 8th house & could be related to crime (although often I do see it in specific charts). A love hotel? You could also meet up at a stop club for some reason lol.

For ex: Gypsy Rose has Union in Capricorn (°7 Libra) in the 8th house (union persona chart). She met face to face with her ex husband Ryan Anderson & her current partner Ken Urker while she was still serving her sentence in prison (prison visits). The meeting was confined, restricted but still intimate in its own way.

໒꒱ Sagittarius (°9,°21) | 9th House

Trips are likely involved (especially in the 9th house). Travelling somewhere to meet up with them. Somewhere historical, somewhere religious, or foreign, could be a vacation for some of you. Somewhere exotic and fun, likely outdoors or if it is indoors it's somewhere with a lot of "knowledge" like libraries, museums and galleries. At school or at school, university, universal studios? It could be a pretty loud or busy place. You could meet at a zoo too. Maybe you'll do horse riding lessons with them lol.

໒꒱ Capricorn (°10,°22) | 10th House

There could be a lot of restrictions at the place you first meet face to face or out for the first date/get together. Somewhere with rigid energy or strict rules, you may even have to act rather professional or on your guard when you meet. Somewhere cold, and a little unwelcoming (depends on the other signs/house degrees it's in). Somewhere with a timetable or a routine, somewhere you have to make a reservation for. Meeting under the pretext of "work" or something professional.

໒꒱ Aquarius (°11,°23) | 11th House

This usually shows up in those.. "going out with friends" but really I'm only tryna get closer to one person type of thing. You could be in a relationship but most of your dates involve dinner with friends and family too. Like you may hangout with people that you know often when you first get together. If not, then you may be visiting millennial places lol like rustic looking cafes or record shops. Video game stores, internet cafes & planetariums. Very casual.

Ex: Jay-Z has union in Scorpio (°18 Virgo) in the 11th house. He & Beyoncé met and got together as friends & for collaborations but it was definitely taboo— man was in his late 20s & she was 16-17 when they started hanging out. (Even though they allegedly didn't start dating until she was around 21)

໒꒱ Pisces (°12,°24) | 12th House

You will likely be going to their place a lot, going to their town, state or country, often seen in the charts of long distance relationships. Somewhere far, and rather cold. You may be going at a distance towards them. Somewhere foreign to you. Indoors. Somewhere with not a lot of people, could be very private. Somewhere you might be vulnerable, could be somewhat scary as well lol. You might keep your meeting all to yourselves. It could be a last minute plan too, but could involve some sort of long process. Could be a hospital or mental institution in some scenarios. Constant back & forth travelling. In Pisces (or conjuncting Neptune), it could also be at a concert.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

please refer to the linked examples if you are having trouble understanding how to apply union in the union persona chart

Thank you for reading ♡

@northopalshore

@northopalshore union 2025 all rights reserved.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

General Strike 2028

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/11/rip-jane-mcalevey/#organize

Trump is a scab.

https://www.democracynow.org/2024/9/2/shawn_fain_2024_election

Trump is a scab and the Dems need unions. While working class votes were all over the place – lotsa turkeys voting for Christmas – union voters voted against Trump with near-unanimity.

Trump is a scab, the Dems need unions, and the Dems are not faithful friends to unions. Harris campaign advisor – her brother-in-law Tony West – is Uber's chief legal officer and the architect of Prop 22, California's scab law that formalized "gig work" labor violations. The fact that when the eminently guillotineable union-buster Howard Schultz tries to win a presidential nomination he does so in the Democratic party speaks volumes. If your political party has room for Michael Bloomberg, it doesn't have room for workers. Seriously, fuck that guy.

Trump is a scab, the Dems need unions, Dems are not faithful friends to unions, and unions keep the Dems honest. The #RedForEd teachers' strikes of 2018 kicked off a wave of public support for unions – and worker interest in unionization – that has only grown in the years since:

https://theweek.com/articles/764828/teacher-strikes-could-future-alt-labor

Trump is a scab, Dems need unions, Dems are not faithful to unions, unions make the Dems better, workers want unions, the public loves unions, and union membership is falling.

It's falling! This one is on the union leadership. Unions are sitting on gigantic warchests that they are resolutely not spending organizing the workers who are clamoring to join unions:

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/ten-times-this

Unions have historic high cash reserves and are doing historically low organizing. This part is the unions' fault:

https://www.radishresearch.org/_files/ugd/2357dd_135794f88aa140f2962ee5c71ac31ff0.pdf

Or rather, it's the union bosses' fault. Union leadership in America, broadly speaking, sucks. Bosses love shitty unions, and the biggest unions obliged bosses for decades, with leaders who established suicidal practices like "two-tier contracts." That's a union where all the workers have to pay dues, but only the senior workers get protection from the union those dues fund:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/20/a-common-foe/#the-multinational-playbook

If you sat down and said, "Let's design a union contract that will ensure that every worker hired from this day forward hates unions," this is the contract you'd come up with.

Those shitty union bosses? They're on the way out. In 2023, the UAW held its first honest elections for generations, and radicals, led by Shawn Fain, swept the board. How did workers win their union back? They unionized more workers! Specifically, the UAW organized the brutally exploited Harvard grad students, and the Harvard kids memorized the union by-laws, and every time the corrupt old guard tried the steal the leadership election, one or another of them popped to their feet, reciting chapter-and-verse from the union's own rules and keeping the vote going:

https://theintercept.com/2023/04/07/deconstructed-union-dhl-teamsters-uaw/

Fain led the UAW to an historic strike: the UAW took on all three of the Big Three automakers, and cleaned their clocks. UAW workers walked away with three new contracts, all set to expire in 2028. Fain then called upon every union to bargain for contracts that run out in 2028, because if every union contract expires in 2028, we've got the makings of a general strike.

That means that when the next presidential election rolls around, it's going to be in the middle of the most militant moment in a century of US labor history. That is an opportunity.

Labor movements fight fascists. They always have. Trump and the GOP are not on the side of workers, notwithstanding all that bullshit about supporting workers by fighting immigration. Sure, when the number of workers goes up, wages can go down – if you're not in a union. Conservatives have never supported unions. They hate solidarity. Conservatives want workers to believe that they can get paid more if labor is scarcer, and there's some truth to that, but solidarity endures in good times and bad, and scarcity ends any time bosses figure out how to offshore, outsource, or automate your job. Scarcity is brittle.

"Law-and-order" candidates want to throw millions of our neighbors in jail. By the way, the 13th Amendment abolished slavery, except for prisoners. American imprisons more people than any other country in the history of the world. We make Stalin's gulags and Chinese Cultural Revolution "re-education camps" look unambitious. American prisoners produce $9b worth of services and $2b worth of goods every year. The average US prison wage is $0.53/hour, but six states ban prison wages altogether and North Carolina caps them at $1/day:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/02/captive-customers/#guillotine-watch

If you think immigrants are bad for American workers' wages, wait'll you see what legions of newly imprisoned slave laborers earning $0.53/hour do to those wages. Also: Californians just voted down a ballot measure to abolish prison slavery:

https://www.kqed.org/news/12013392/californians-voted-against-outlawing-slavery-why-is-prop-6-failing

The GOP are not on workers' side, and workers will not earn more under Trump's policies. Workers will earn more if they join a union, which they will only do if union leaders focus on organizing, which will only happen if we get rid of shitty union bosses. Start with this asshole, who belongs on the scrapheap of history:

https://www.npr.org/2024/07/16/nx-s1-5041345/teamsters-president-sean-obrien-addresses-the-republican-national-convention

With the GOP running the country for the next four years, it's tempting to look for hope in social movements. Maybe Trump will be so terrible that people will band together in informal solidarity networks and #Resist. History teaches us otherwise. The people who need the most help under Trump will be too embroiled in the fight for their own survival to put together the kind of movement that can make a difference.

As Astra Taylor reminded us on the Know Your Enemy podcast, Occupy and Black Lives Matter formed under Obama, when things were eleven kinds of fucked up, but at least ICE wasn't raiding our neighbors' homes:

https://know-your-enemy-1682b684.simplecast.com/episodes/voting-what-is-it-good-for-w-astra-taylor-olufmi-taiwo-malcolm-harris-teaser

Occupy and BLM arose in a moment when people had just enough breathing room to think beyond their immediate survival. Even deeply flawed progressive administrations provide that breathing room.

By contrast, the #RedForEd teachers' strikes were a creature of the Trump years. Even if social movements struggle to find their power under authoritarian, far-right regimes, these are the conditions in which organized labor movements are renewed:

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/to-unfuck-politics-create-more-union

Trump won the election because white men, especially young white men, voted for him, but he couldn't have done it without the votes of white women, and Black and Latino men. These voters may even conceive of themselves as being in favor of women's rights and of the rights of racial minorities, but they still voted for Trump, because some facet of their identity - their maleness, their whiteness - mattered more to them than everything else.

Bosses have always excelled at this game, bringing in Irish scabs to break strikes of German workers, or Polish scabs to break Irish workers' pickets. The Pinkertons relied on Black workers who were excluded from the lily white unions.

Our identities are complex and ever-shifting, and men who worry that women's power comes at their own expense, or whites who worry that this is true of Black and Latino power aren't entirely wrong. As the saying goes, "When you're accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression."

But there's one part of your identity that is inherently solidaristic: whether you are a worker or an owner. If you own the business, you make more money when your workers earn less. If you work at the business, every dollar you earn is a dollar your boss doesn't get. Workers' gains are bosses' losses.

That's why they want us to "vote with our wallets." It's not just that those votes are rigged for the people with the fattest wallets. By tricking you into thinking of yourself as a "consumer" who benefits from low prices, they get you to stop thinking of yourself as a worker who suffers from low wages.

This remains true even after decades of "market based pensions" that forced workers to flush their savings into the stock market casino, to be the perennial suckers at the table in a game where their bosses had an unbeatable house advantage:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/06/the-end-of-the-road-to-serfdom/

Even after generations of this, the share of the stock market owned by workers is a negligible crumb. This is how GDP can rise, the stock market can surge, and you stay poor. Workers' fortunes don't rise and fall with the stock market. They're not owners.

You're a worker even if you're well-paid. Tech workers are just figuring this out, after a generation-long con in which bosses convinced techies that they were temporarily embarrassed entrepreneurs who definitely didn't need a union:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/16/narrative-capitalism/#sell-job

Tech workers' power came from scarcity, and scarcity is brittle. Tech fired 260,000 workers in 2023, and another 100,000 in the first six months of 2024. Tech bosses have smashed their workers' power, and we know what comes next.

We know what comes next because we know how tech bosses treat workers they can replace. Amazon warehouse workers piss in bottles and get maimed on the job at a rate that outstrips any other warehouse worker in America. Jeff Bezos and Andy Jassy didn't welcome coders with pink mohawks, facial piercings and black t-shirts with incomprehensible slogans because they liked tech workers and hated warehouse workers. Amazon coders owed the privilege to pee whenever they felt like it to their bosses' fear that they couldn't be replaced. Now that coders are replaceable, their kidneys are on the firing line.

"The future is here, it's just not evenly distributed." If you want to see the future of a replaceable Amazon coder, look at the working conditions of a replaceable Amazon delivery driver, monitored by a fucking AI that punishes them if they open their mouths while driving:

https://jalopnik.com/amazon-bans-its-drivers-from-moving-their-own-lips-too-1851639312

Remember lovely Tim Cook, the guy who took over Apple from its sainted juice-cleansing cofounder Steve Jobs? Cook's accomplishment, the one that earned him the CEOship and a personal net worth in excess of $2 billion, was to figure out how to offshore Apple's production to Chinese factories where the working conditions were so terrible that they needed to install suicide nets to catch workers who couldn't face another minute on the job:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2017/jun/18/foxconn-life-death-forbidden-city-longhua-suicide-apple-iphone-brian-merchant-one-device-extract

That's how Tim Cook treats workers he's not afraid of. Apple workers, no matter how well paid, no matter how pampered, need a union, because the instant Tim Cook can treat you like a Chinese iPhone assembly-line worker, he will.

Tim Cook had some choice words for Donald Trump this week:

Congratulations President Trump on your victory! We look forward to engaging with you and your administration to help make sure the United States continues to lead with and be fueled by ingenuity, innovation, and creativity.

It wasn't just Cook. Every tech boss lined up to kiss Trump's ass: Bezos ("Wishing @realDonaldTrump all success"); Zuck ("Looking forward to working with you"); Pichai ("We are in a golden age of American innovation"); Nadella ("Congratulations President Trump"):

https://daringfireball.net/2024/11/i_wonder

You don't just deserve a tech union, you need one, now:

https://abookapart.com/products/you-deserve-a-tech-union.html

Organizing a 2028 general strike under Trump won't be easy. Workers won't be able to secure support from the courts or the NLRB, whose brilliant Biden-era leadership team is surely doomed:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

But the NLRB only exists today because workers established unions when doing so was radioactively illegal and union organizers were beaten, jailed and murdered with impunity. The tactics those organizers used are not lost to the mists of time – they are a tradition that lives on to this day.

The standard-bearer for this older, militant, community-based union organizing was the great Jane McAlevey (rest in power). McAlevey ran organizing and strike drives as mass-movements; she wouldn't call for either without being sure of massive majorities, 70%-95%:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/23/a-collective-bargain/

McAlevey understood union organizing as a source of worker power, but also as a source of community power. When she helped organize the LA #RedForEd Teachers' strike, the teachers didn't just demand better working conditions for themselves, but also green space for their students, and protection from ICE raids for their students' parents. They did this under Trump, and built a turnout organization that flipped key seats and delivered a House majority to the Democrats in 2020.

In her work, McAlevey excoriated the kind of shittyass Dem power-brokers who just lost an election to a convicted felon and rapist, condemning their technocratic conceit that the path to electoral victory was in winning over precisely 50.1% of the vote in each tactically significant precinct. McAlevey said that's how you get the nightmarish Manchin-Synematic Universe where Dems can't deliver and workers don't vote for Dems. To transform America, we need the kinds of majorities that McAlevey and her fellow organizers won in those strike votes – majorities that produced durable, anti-fascist power that turned into electoral victories, too.

McAlevey died last summer. But she left behind a legion of people she taught and inspired, and a playbook we all can follow:

https://jacobin.com/2024/07/jane-mcalevey-strategy-organizing-obituary

We've got four years. Join a union. Take over its leadership. Create solidarity with your fellow workers and your community. Bargain for a contract. Make it expire in 2028. Get ready.

Because in 2028, we're having a general strike.

[darlingshane]

Dumb & Poetic

Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: Michael and you cannot communicate anymore without screaming at each other, but you've managed to keep that out of the workplace. Except for today. Your argument reaches a boiling point, and you have a big blowout in the kitchen in front of everyone. You end up apologizing to each other at the end of the day in the only way you know how to.

CW: +18, explicit, heavy angst, complicated relationships in the workplace, smut, vaginal sex, hate sex, making out, misogynistic comments.

Word Count: 2,2k

— Links: AO3 // Michael Masterlist

The kitchen is on fire, and it's not because everyone is working their asses off. It's only because of the heated argument you're having with Michael.

If your hands weren’t busy with the sandwich you’re making, you would definitely close your fist and sock him in the face. You don’t condone violence, but right now, he's earning himself a good punch. Breaking his nose could be the only thing that would stop him from relentlessly nagging at you while you work. There's fire in your knuckles already, itching to hit something. Anger is really starting to fester in your stomach as he keeps yapping in your ear about nonsense. You give him one more minute before you either swing your fist or quit altogether. It'd be pretty funny to leave him in the lurch with the show full of people anxiously waiting for their food. You're understaffed, overworked, and lacking better management. He knows it, you know it, everyone and their mother in the neighborhood knows it. And yet, Michael refuses to listen to reason. The only thing he loves listening to is himself talking.

If you had other options, you’d certainly drop what you’re doing and walk right out the door. It'd take you to be as much of an asshole as he is to just leave him stranded today. Unfortunately, you can’t afford the luxury of quitting this job.

Turning heads on your way, you yell at each other, going back and forth between everyone working tiredly on the tight kitchen space. It's not unusual for you to fight, but today there's a time bomb ticking that holds something inside more complicated than any of you can understand.

You knew mixing business and pleasure was a mistake. Yet you jumped, eyes closed. It serves you right, you're hitting your head against the bottom of the pool for not following your gut. You knew Michael was trouble, also your boss, and that didn't stop you from getting into bed with him.

Now everything is a mess. You can't communicate without screaming at each other. All the back and forth between being together and apart has burned the last bridge between you and Michael, and there's nothing you can do to fix it when he's not willing to do his part in helping you.

“Orders are piling up. You either move out of the way, or join the party. So help me God, Michael.” You throw your knife with disdain into the sink before you do something you might regret.

“You still haven’t answered my question. Why did you change the menu without telling me?”

“I tried! I called you ten times, and you never picked up. And I didn’t change the menu. I just added a special for the weekend to try it out. See, it’s working.” You use your hand to point at the kitchen window crowded by heads on the other side. “You said you were leaving for two days, and you were gone for over a week. You think that’s normal, to go on a bender and leave us to fend for ourselves? You got orders, bills, vendors to deal with… You're being fucking irresponsible. Has anyone told you that? ”

“Give me a damn break. You have no idea what I have to deal with. You've been working here two days and act like they own the place. Who the fuck you think you are?”

“I've been here two years, Michael! Two fucking years carrying your sorry ass around. You’ll be lost without me, asshole!”

“I'd be lost without you? That's rich.” He scoffs loudly. “I taught you everything you know.”

Now it's your time to snort. “You showed me how to make your stupid sandwiches. It's not like you taught me how to cure cancer. You should be grateful I care enough to do something about it.”

“It wasn’t your place! You added chicken to my menu. Beef. We serve beef.” He points at the logo on the shirt he's wearing. “Can't you read, sweetheart? If we start serving chicken, people are gonna get confused.”

You roll your eyes intently.

“I told you, it's just for the weekend, Mr. Beef.” You have to hold yourself back from throwing the wrapped sandwich in your hands at him.

“Yo, cousin, since when we do chicken specials.” Richie walks in, protesting, from the front of the shop.

“Ask the smartass here. Thinks she knows better than all of us.”

“Well, I don't know about smart, but she certainly has a good ass.” Richie laughs.

“Oh, look at your other half agreeing with you. What a surprise! That's sexual harassment, by the way, Richard. And you're late, as usual.”

“Take it to the police, sweetheart.”

You feel like you're the one who's taking this place more seriously than both of them. Perhaps you shouldn't even try anymore. If Michael doesn't care enough to make this place better, why should you? You're sick of busting your ass for nothing. You should just take a step back and let him drive this hole further into the ground.

Done with arguing with someone who doesn't even listen, you turn around and go start on the next order.

“Hey, I'm not done talking to you.” He, of course, follows behind you.

“Well, I am. Stop wasting my fucking time.”

“Not until you apologize for going over my head and changing things around without consulting me.”

You almost burst into laughter.

“The only one who needs to issue an apology is you, Michael. Not me. I've done nothing but bringing life into this fucking dark hole you've created. You're just too obtuse to see that.”

“You've got some fucking nerve. And who do you think is paying for all the chicken you ordered? Did you get a new vendor?”

“I know a guy. He got me a discount on the first order.”

“Really? Vendors I know don't usually do that. Did you have to suck his dick or something? Cause that's the only—”

He can't finish his sentence because before you know it, the back of your hand is swiftly flying across his face. All that vitriol that was boiling inside, begging to get out, ends plastered on his cheek that quickly turns red. Your knuckles hurt from hitting his jaw, but it was worth it.

Suddenly, you notice almost everyone in the kitchen is looking at the two of you, caught in the middle of the space in a standoff.

It takes him a second to tell everyone to go back to work. You can see him fuming, but he doesn't respond or retaliate to your aggression.

As much as he deserved it, you almost regret it immediately. At least you got him to shut up for the time being. You take a ten-minute break and finish the rest of your shift without more altercations or Michael pestering you, thankfully. You're not sure if you want to come back tomorrow. You're done with his shit. It's not worth it anymore. You'll have figured out something else, cause this is never going to get better, and today was proof of that.

Almost everyone is gone when you decide to have a word with Michael after closing.

“Hey,” you say, standing by the open door to his office as he looks up from the pile of papers on his desk. “I'm going to take a couple of days off from my vacation days.”

“Yeah, I think that'd be best.” He agrees.

“Are you going to fire me?”

“It has crossed my mind.”

“Well, are you?”

“Sit down” He motions at the empty chair while he stands up to close the door behind you.

“I'm not sitting down. I'm tired of arguing with you and I wanna go home. Just tell me, Michael. No hard feelings. We'll go our separate ways, and you'll never have to deal with me again. ”

“I'm not firing you, okay? Please sit. I have something to say.”

Begrudgingly, you sigh and sit in the chair with your arms crossed while he leans on the edge of the desk.

“Look, today got out of hand, and I'm sorry for my part. I shouldn't have said that.”

“It was way out the line. But I shouldn't have slapped you, either.”

“Did it feel good to slap me?” his lips pull up at the corners.

“Maybe a little.”

You both smile for a moment, but you know there's more to say.

“I appreciate you helping here, but you can't make decisions like that when I'm gone. You should have told me first.”

“You never listen, Michael. This isn't something new. I've been telling you for months. This place needs to change, or you're going to lose it. I thought it meant something to you, but hell, what do I know? But don't worry, I'm butting out from now on. It's your business, do what you want with it.”

“I highly doubt you can do that, sweetheart. You and I both know you won’t be able to stay out of it. You just love being a pain in my ass too much.”

No, you're done for sure. If he can't at least meet you halfway, you're done trying. You can't fix this place cause you can't fix him. And that's the main issue here.

“Believe what you want, Michael.” You stand up to leave, but he's surely not even close to being done with you.

“Wait, there's something else I gotta say.”

“What?”

He steps closer in your direction, and you almost flinch when he brings his hand up to touch your face. Sighing, you let him cup your face while he leans in to kiss your mouth. It's so puzzling the effect he has on you. It’s dumb and poetic. He keeps fucking with your head like it’s some kind of fetish, and you keep letting him for no reason other than you can’t help but caring for him. You wish you didn’t, but you do love him more than you’d like to admit.

“Your lips are moving, but I don't hear any talking,” you mumble against his kiss.

“Hm, I wasn't done yet,” he licks his lips and then the tip of his tongue traces the shape of your mouth before sliding past your lips to do his talking. You don't give in so easily to his dirty antics. He's going to have to earn it.

It takes you a moment to respond to the bidding of his tongue that moves slowly against yours, begging you to kiss him back.

You should know better by now that this won't end well. This is a path you've walked many times before, and every time you end up regretting ever stepping onto it. You should duck, run, kick him in the balls, but you’re far too deep into the mind-numbing rhythm of his tongue that casts an impossible spell on you to do anything but argue with your tongue. As the heat rises, the hunger of your lips locking becomes unbearably hot to handle. You can barely breathe when you notice his hands roaming all over your body, claiming it as if it was his.

“God, I hate you so much,” you grunt into the kiss, pulling slightly from his mouth to see the vicious red that has plumbed his lips.

“I hate you more, baby,” he huffs, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth as he presses his crotch between your legs. “That’s how much I despise you.”

“Not as much as I do.” You undo the buttons of your jeans before grabbing his hand and shoving it into your panties to make him feel how soaked you are already.

Dark eyes lock with yours as he viciously massages your whole pussy. Before you know, you’re turning your back on him, and bending over his desk, pulling your pants and underwear down so he can fuck you from behind.

There’s no time wasted, as you brace your elbows to the table, he smoothly buries his cock in your opening, collecting all your juices. He’s hard, and you're soft in all the right places for him to thrust firmly without hurting you. His hands grip your ass while the pace of his hips quickly drive you out of your mind. You feel every stroke and thrust rippling through your body, kindling a fire within your core. You glance over your shoulder to see him darkly staring at you before smacking your ass with his palm.

“How do you like that now, huh?” He snarls, slapping your ass a second time harder, earning a moan out of you. “Yeah, I know that’s how you like it, sweetheart.”

You then hang your head and let him drive you closer to the edge. You can feel his cock twitching inside you as you send one of your hands between your legs to touch your clit.

“What? You got nothing to say now?” He leans forwards to grunt in your ear. “Good. You look prettier with your mouth shut.”

“Fuck you, asshole,” you moan as his hand follow the path of yours to helps you take care of your clit as you both nearly touch that last final line.

With the help of his fingers, and those final firm erratic thrusts, you quickly come undone, letting your walls flutter around him, bringing him down with you. He spills himself inside, holding on to you as you and him are momentarily taken by that jolt of bliss that ripples from his body to yours and vice versa.

— credits: divider by @bernardsbendystraws

[cece693]

Hi, your tumblr is amazing, I loved discovering it. Can I make a request? About a slasher who discovers that the male reader is a serial killer as terrible as the ones in the real world. I'm not sure which one would fit best; I thought of Jason, Billy and Stu, maybe Michael or Norman Bates… whatever you think is best and/or are most familiar with.

Slashers With a Serial Killer Lover (Slashers x GN! Reader)

Sorry it took a while to complete this request but I was in a weird funk and uninspired. However, with this being more of a multi-character request/headcannon, it spurred me to complete it. I included the slashers you mentioned above, alongside Hannibal, Will (I'm aware he's not a slasher, but I just love him) and Patrick. I also changed it to be gender neutral because I want to be more inclusive :)

Norman Bates

Norman would be conflicted—after all, you're not only worried about his reaction but that of 'mother.' If your actions pleased her, Norman might be supportive. However, if they don't and 'mother' perceives you to be a threat, expect Norman to turn against you (with tears in his eyes.) However, even if 'mother' does approve of your hobby, this relationship is far from simple. 'Mother' might grow jealous of how much Norman is straying from her teachings and become vengeful. Expect a chaotic rollercoaster of guilt, affection, and psychological breakdowns.

Michael Myers

Michael would be indifferent to your hobby unless they interfered with his own objectives. He might view you as a tool or an ally in his pursuits, but wouldn't engage emotionally or ethically about whom you kill. Expect no romantic gestures, but be assured, Michael observes from the shadows whenever your out and about. He's ready to lend a hand when you need a show of brutal force or the tides unexpectedly turn against you. Michael doesn’t tolerate weakness, so if you proved to be cunning and self-sufficient, that would almost earn a silent respect.

Billy Loomis

Billy’s manipulative side would initially question if this is some trick or if he can use the situation to his advantage. However, deep down, he’d be excited at the idea of having a lover who’s just as twisted as he is. However, because you are a serial killer and Billy has this notion of being the 'brains' of the relationship, expect many fights. He wants to be the person in control, so he might never be fully comfortable in your relationship if he perceives you as greater than him. This relationship is a mine for mind games, but be assured when you find common ground, you're a deadly duo.

Stu Matcher

Stu wouldn't care about you being a serial killer. In fact he'll be ecstatic because it would be like living in a non-stop horror flick. Let's face it, he has murder tendencies but often allows you to take reign. He would join your hunts but see it more as a game: he'd want to do 'team kills', wear matching outfits, etc. Expect him to crack jokes non-stop or reference horror tropes, even if you're in the middle of killing someone. Stu is impulsive—“Hey, let’s kill that person!” or “We should totally sabotage this house party!” If you're down for it, Stu’s loyalty is intense, though erratic.

Jason Voorhees

Jason mostly kills out of vengeance or anger, and he’s not particularly intellectual about it. So when he discovers that his boyfriend is a serial killer, he wouldn't be bothered. In fact, he'll probably look up to you: learning how to better kill and dispose of his victims. However, he would get violent if you make a move unto his territory (Camp Crystal Lake) or disrespect the memory of his beloved mother. You are a serial killer and so is Jason, but a part of you likes to hide some of your more brutal and gruesome kills from him. He has a childlike mind so you thread carefully and are overprotective of your giant teddy bear :)

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal, being a connoisseur of murder himself, would be intrigued and possibly delighted by having a lover who shared his proclivities. However, he would also evaluate your style and motives. If they matched his sense of aesthetic and intellectual stimulation, he would be supportive, but he might manipulate or dispose of you if deemed proved crude or unworthy. He has standards, after all. He’d encourage you to be more meticulous, to pay attention to the senses, to savor each detail. Hannibal would absolutely offer subtle mentorship—introducing more elegant methods, or guiding you toward “ethically chosen” victims. Expect a twisted sort of domesticity: lavish dinners, intellectual sparring, and an understanding that behind every polite smile, there lurks a dangerous mind. Hannibal would want a partner who challenges him intellectually and morally, even in their darkest impulses.

Will Graham

Will would initially be disturbed upon discovering that you're a serial killer. His empathy would reel from the moral violation. Yet, there might be a pull—something that resonates with the darker corners of his psyche. It would be a constant tug-of-war between love (or at least genuine care) and the horror of his partner’s violent acts. Will might try to “save” them, or rationalize why they kill, but he’d be tormented by guilt at the same time. Torn between turning you in or continuing to keep the secret, Will might become complicit in small ways—covering up your tracks or giving subtle advice to avoid detection. This would only deepen his internal conflict. However, once that love for you overclouds his morality, Will becomes a complicit partner and helps you with your kills.

Patrick Bateman

Patrick’s narcissism would initially cause him to feel threatened—he wants to be the center of attention and the “best” at whatever he does, including killing. But if your kills are stylish, impressive, or feed into his ego, he’d become enthralled. You best believe foreplay includes you killing one of Patrick's rivals and creating a tableau that fosters his view of superiority above everyone else. The relationship would revolve around status, wealth, and aesthetics. Your kills would become an odd game of one-upmanship: who can kill more creatively or remain more flawless in public. Patrick loves an audience—if you can provide him with the right blend of admiration and competition, you'll stay in his good graces.

[vilsoo]

𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐅 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐁𝐔𝐒! ⌇MICHAEL AFTON

succubus!reader x michael afton || WC: 5,413

𖤐 SYNOPSIS. ever since michael found you as a succubus, he’s never been so in love. you usually feed off humans, but with michael’s sexual energy keeping you alive, you never ate anyone in years. that is, until, halloween night occurs…

𖤐 WARNINGS. established relationship, university au, halloween setting, malewife himbo bf/girlboss demon gf dynamic, revenge, murder, flesh eating, gore, blood mentions, tentacle bondage, msub!michael.

HORRORLAND/KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

[RIDE ANNOUNCER] This is a high speed roller coaster with sudden stops and drops! All riders must store loose items inside of a locker. This ride contains flashing scenes, special effects, and content warnings posted. Please remember to stay seated and keep all arms and legs inside when the vehicle is in motion. Any kind of photography is not allowed during the ride. Thanks for your attention and cooperation. We hope you enjoy.

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Is it possible to fall in love with a woman after they had just murdered someone?

For Michael Afton, the answer is yes.

Months ago during the beginning of the semester, Michael wasn’t always great at making friends. Even though this was university, it felt like high school again, where he remained an outcast and was reluctant to be involved with the student body, college clubs, or majority of big events like football games. He was academically focused; the typical nerdy student majoring in engineering. Always studying by himself in the library and sometimes tutoring other students so he could earn some money on the side. Back then he realized that having friends or even being in a relationship was the least of his priorities.

But it wasn’t until he first laid his eyes on you.

You were so beautiful. Also an inquisitive, scholarly student with good grades, staying on top of your classes, and involved with many extra curriculars. As badly as he wanted to talk to you, he viewed you as way out of his league. Always keeping in touch with your friend groups on campus and focusing on the clubs and committees you joined. There was never a chance for Michael to even be with you. So to avoid rejection and humiliation, he’d rather keep his crush a little secret, admiring and fantasizing about you from afar.

When October came around and a big Halloween party was taking place, Michael was invited by one of the students he was tutoring. He wasn’t the best at social gatherings and has never been to college parties, but the only reason he came was because you were attending as well. And that the first time he ever drank and slightly withdrew from his comfort zone from the alcohol, talking to people from campus and collecting all the courage to talk to you.

That night, however, you were busy with another man. A man that Michael has never seen before. Spending a lot of time together, dancing, drinking, and always leaving the vicinity together… As much as Michael wanted to admit that he was jealous deep down, he forced himself to move on. He’d always believed that there was no way in Hell that he was going to have a chance with you that time.

“…Hey, has anybody seen Y/N?”

A few hours later into the party the question started floating in the air, suddenly capturing Michael’s attention. The thought of you had completely slipped his mind as he started drinking more throughout the night until you were back to being his main focus. Recalling the last time he’s seen you was with that man he assumed doesn’t attend the university. As he lingered in his thoughts, his skin started crawl.

Suspicion. Piercing curiosity. An urge to look for you and make sure you were safe.

A handful of your friends were looking everywhere in the house for you as Michael decided to investigate outside. Even though he was outside of campus and wasn’t that familiar with the outskirts, he didn’t stop searching until he could find you that night. He searched until the path at his feet faded and lead into the dark woods, the verdant greens diminishing to sullen brown, as if he was entering forbidden territory. But it wasn’t until he noticed red.

A blood trail.

That mystifying Halloween night, right in the heart of the forest where danger and terror lurks, is the first time Michael saw a dead man’s body and his guts hideously torn apart, messy spikes of fresh blood splattered everywhere. The whole scene looked impossible for a rabid animal to even do that. But it wasn’t until he found you, on your knees and sitting on your ankles beside the corpse, blood draped all over your face, chin, and then your naked body.

And when your gaze flickered onto Michael, in your eyes he can sense longing, pining, regret, terror… a tumultuous storm surging in your mind, piercing right through him. He could’ve ran. He could’ve screamed that night. He should’ve been horrified by the scene in the first place. But every fiber of his fell frozen like he was in a surrendering state; placating, patient, consoling. Only for you. A rapport had already formed right there and then, right under the luminous moon…

“Help me, Michael…”

And just as you were about to collapse on the ground, he rushed over to hold your body in his arms, not caring about the dead man or the blood all over his hands and clothes. He only cared about you. A wave of relief may have washed over him, but he was taken over by this strange, formidable urgency to protect you. To be there for you. To cherish you with such powerful tenderness, nurturing you in such a delicate, vulnerable state.

That was the night you and Michael finally bonded. That special Halloween night you found each other. Comprehending the fact that you were a newborn succubus— the deadliest, macabre, and wanton creature to ever exist... Knowing that you eat men, feed off their flesh, and reap on them with sexual dreams and nightmares, suddenly lead him to a mind-blowing discovery…

Michael had fallen in love with you.

In just a year later, you two were official. A perfect boyfriend and girlfriend for each other, basking in a healthy, loving, long-term relationship. With Michael knowing what you’re capable of as a succubus, he never held it against you; especially finding out the dark and twisted origin of how you became a succubus… He still loves you, cherishes you, and will forever stay loyal to you. Dating you because you’re you was just what he wanted ever since the beginning of college. And even though there were various things he has to adapt to in this relationship, he never complained. He would sacrifice anything for you, including his time to skip class just so you two can have sex.

But for a very good reason.

During the first few months of his new relationship, he had to deal with your bloodlust. You would tend to be ravenous, feral, murderous, literally barbaric for man blood and flesh, for that was your only appetite as a newborn. Michael knew what he was getting into, knew that him ending up being killed and eaten by you one day would be inevitable just to keep yourself alive and beautiful. As cautious and wary as ever, he’d keep his distance as he was in desperate search for another way to satisfy your hunger besides murdering anyone. Then finally, he came to the conclusion that a succubus like his girlfriend can also thrive and feed off sexual energy. A perfect solution for your diet without anybody getting hurt and keeping you alive.

Having sex with you everyday and night didn’t even feel like a strict routine or sex ritual. Michael had you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Even dessert. Nothing about this felt like a necessity just to keep you around forever; he really wanted to satisfy you deep down as long as you consented. And as the months passed by, perhaps deep down he was also a freaky sex demon that takes pleasure in pleasuring his beautiful girlfriend. A man possessed and bewitched by your ethereal presence, he’d make you feel various levels of pleasure and pain as he explores the regions of your body that you never knew existed— finding your weaknesses, turning them into his strengths, and then seducing you with them...

As goes for you, who trained yourself to only feed off the insatiable, wanton lust you have for Michael. You always find a human man like him weaving into your brain, coursing through your veins like you were downing a drug. Every second you see each other at school, your hearts pound as hard as the bed you shared in your new apartment rattles, feasting upon your lusts as if there were no more morrows. Michael had undying, blooming love for you— and you wallowed in his love like draping a warm blanket over you during cold Winter nights.

Halloween was right around the corner again. It was soon to be your one year anniversary, and though Michael had many, many plans on celebrating with you, one of them was going to this huge Halloween party just thirty minutes away from campus. But it wasn’t just some ordinary house party with spooky Halloween decor lazily thrown around and bowls of fruit punch and alcohol scattered on a kitchen island— this was a hardcore Halloween party with over 300 guests attending. Way more people, way more alcohol, and way more attractions than just music to dance to— there were rumors of a famous live band performing, people hosting escape rooms, haunted houses, and other cool horror-related shit that Michael couldn’t wait to experience with you.

It was an hour before the party. The two of you were at your apartment getting your costumes ready, since Halloween costumes were part of the dress code for this party. If you weren’t dressed, you weren’t allowed in.

“Are you… Jason Voorhees?” you marveled, passing by Michael standing in front of the body mirror putting on the iconic hockey mask.

Michael chuckled. “Yeah. Since we had a Friday the 13th this year... I just found this at Spirit Halloween and decided why not. What are you gonna be, hm?”

“Well, it’s a little basic…” You did some cute poses in front of the mirror in your costume; a cropped white puffer jacket with faux fur on the edges of your hood, a denim skirt, red laced stockings, and then fake blood splattered all over. “It was also last minute, so I just threw on some stuff to look like Jennifer Check from Jennifer’s Body.”

“Basic? You look beautiful,” he complimented as he stared at your reflection in the mirror, turning around to hold your waist. “The costume is also ironic. I love that. You ready to go?”

“Yeah. Let’s go before parking gets full.”

The thirty minute drive at night wasn’t that bad. You and Michael’s adrenaline started to rush in when luminous rays of colorful lights and fog were seen from a far distance behind the shadowy trees. There were so, so many people that Michael couldn’t even recognize. Some weren’t even students that attended the university. You were surfing through the crowd with him never letting go of your hand, everybody around dancing outdoors as the excitement buzzes around in this rave-like party. Spectrums within the bass-boosted music, the sound waves pulsing in your heart. In the air, you could immediately take in strong various drugs and alcohol invading your senses. You could hear the rustle of costumes, glasses clinking, people talking and laughing, and feel the whimsical energy flowing around.

You and Michael decided to drink and dance together, the dizzying lights and alcohol making you fall through space and only take in his face. As the ecstasy flowed in your bloodstream beyond all measure like a storm of electric emotion, your pupils dilating as you were filled with this hazy sweetness-like sensation. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you always felt this way for your own boyfriend; becoming a victim to your own deadly, rapacious desire, enlaved to the rhythm of such unquenchable fire.

Together on the dance floor, Michael kept caressing your waist as you kept moving your body on his. He cupped your face, lips meeting together and something like fire and passion ignited within your ribs, urging each other to deepen the kiss. As if the alcohol couldn’t intoxicate you more, Michael was all that you needed in your hazy, drunken world. You needed him more than ever. You wanted to sneak off and find some place private for the both of you. God, you were feeling so needy for him deep down that Michael already knew…

"…Thank you for having us tonight. It's so good to be here with y'all!" somebody exulted into the microphone on the stage nearby. "I hope y'all enjoy and have a happy fuckin' Halloween!"

The elated crowd cheers again as the drummer counts off with the sticks and the electric guitar riffs take over your ears. For some odd reason, the man’s voice that started singing sounded vaguely familiar to you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there’s a part of you that recognizes a voice like that…

With the heated moment between you and Michael now disrupted by the band performing, you both turn your heads towards the stage where the crowd started to increase. Still holding each other’s hands, your eyes weaved through the back of people’s heads and tried to see who was performing. The electronic punk riffs sounded incredibly vibrant, thrilling everybody in the rave. Dark red spotlights, increased fog from the machines, and the clashing of the drums and other electric instruments overpowering your ears… Even the music sounded familiar to you— this was a genre that you used to listen to, after all.

“Do you wanna stay and watch?” you hear Michael yell out, clutching your hand tighter.

Somehow the question flew over your head as if you were distracted and overstimulated at the same time. As if you were drawn into the hypnotizing performance, there was an odd feeling of curiosity weighing down on your shoulders. The set up, the music, the energy, the singer’s voice… was it deja vu? You were slightly emerged, as if you unadjusted from this atmosphere, and the more Michael studied your curiosity, the more he became concerned.

When the silhouettes of tall heads blocking your view parted for a few minutes, you could finally see the singer. And the moment you scrutinized his appearance, it felt as if the world around you slowed down.

His face heightened every nerve of your body, as if you were just electrocuted by the most hazardous downed powerline. You were in utter bewilderment and horror of everything that you took in, numerous daunting flashbacks running in your head. You held your breath as you relived a traumatic memory from last Halloween; the night you were reborn as a succubus… You had no idea if these were your memories— Hell, it felt like a past life regression coursing every fiber of your being. But for the first time in a long time, terror and fright seized you completely.

“That— that singer…” you drawled, eyes widening every second in horror.

Michael furrowed his brows from not being able to hear you, leaning his ear closer to you. “Wait, what?”

You remembered. You remembered everything.

That last night of your perfect life where everything felt so surreal— being noticed by your long admired idol. A diabolical, sinister plan disguised as an innocent groupie love, where you were betrayed, drugged, kidnapped, and murdered.

The fire. The alcohol. The party. The groupie sex.

His words. His threats. His intentions. His greedy thirst for fame.

The night where he cut out your heart and sacrificed you to the devil. The night when you woke up hours later with a repulsive thirst for flesh on your tongue. The night you were reborn as a succubus, killing the first innocent man you ever saw who was just camping alone in the woods…

It was him. It was really him.

With your eyes welling with tears, your mind started to scream at you. You wanted revenge. You wanted to fucking kill him. Your anger and surging vengeance ignited a dangerous flame taking over you like a goddamn baptism. Your mind turns darker than black as every painful memory rips through you. This was the night he will finally die— and you didn’t give a fucking damn about how many witnesses there will be for his death.

“Babe? Are you—“

Letting go of Michael’s hand before he could comprehend it, you were already out of the crowd and lurking in the shadows with your enhanced speed. Part of you wanted to make that man’s death public. But part of you wanted to take things the old fashioned way, luring him backstage and devouring his soul right back into Hell where he belonged.

But your insatiable lust for flesh and blood mixed with your rage had you impatient and ravenous. It’s been so, so long since you’ve ate a man. And for a valid reason, you were hysterical and feverish to finally eat one on Halloween again. Make that man die a slow, painful, agonizing death as you tie him up in the woods and tear apart each and every one of his organs and guts. You were back to your old roots of being a vicious, wild succubus who lacks control of your hunger.

Michael had to weave through the crowd desperately looking everywhere for you, sometimes pushing other people and mistaking some as you by accident because of your costume. When the song was finally over and he could see entire stage clearly, the band was making their way off and the crowd finally became loose again. He still couldn’t find you anywhere. He started panicking, making his way inside the estate to search.

Inside the estate, there was a private dressing room for the band where they kept their instruments and other possessions. You were there, waiting by the locked door, hearing the men laughing and conversing with each other. But the lead singer’s voice reverberating in the room sounded like nails to a chalkboard to you, your blood boiling every time he chuckles and gets all excited about bullshit. That man doesn’t get to laugh. He doesn’t deserve this kind of talent. You kept fantasizing about ripping out his voice box with your own bare hands, clawing at his throat like a goddamn vice.

Blending with the shadows to taunt them, you find your way inside and locked the door. The men were behind a huge curtain where they couldn’t see you, still laughing and drinking together. Such fickle souls, perfect to be tormented alone in a dismal night like this. As much as you wanted the lead singer gone, you couldn’t help but take predatory thrill in agonizing the rest of the men that was soon to face the worse demise. Maybe they weren’t all that innocent, either. They could add in to the main course for the night.

You decided to do this the old fashioned way, stripping off your puffer jacket, crop top, skirt, stockings, and shoes. You wanted to feel their splattering crimson blood all over your bare skin. Wearing nothing but a matching bra and panty set, you stayed behind the curtain and cleared your throat.

“Excuse me? Can you gentlemen help me with something, please?”

All of them suddenly stop talking at the sound of your coaxing, provocative, coy voice behind the curtain. You sauntered your way towards them, all of them holding their breaths in star struck silence, admiring your devilish beauty and stunning body. All doe-eyed, slothful, yearning, making eye contact with all five males. That glimmer in your eyes that makes a man lose his mind like your boyfriend…

“Woah. Didn’t know we got a groupie for tonight,” one of the men chuckled, their disgusting eyes that deserves to be gouged out staring at you from head to toe.

“How can we help you, miss?” said the lead singer, your nose involuntarily flaring in furtive anger at him.

“Well… if you wanna come behind the curtains here, I have something I’d like to show all of you. A gift from your biggest fan.”

The dumb men easily fell into your trap, following you behind the curtain only for them to realize you disappeared. Eyebrows furrowing, some baffled by where the hell you just went. But you were hanging right above on the high ceiling, like a predatory creature on all fours, using your succubus powers to fuck with the lights and make them flicker until they’re in the dark.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“Why’s the door locked? I can’t fucking open it!”

“Goddamnit. We’re stuck in here! Where the hell is that bitch?”

It’s been so long since you’ve utilized your tentacles. With a disturbing screech and growl, your wings that you finally let free transfigured into slimy tentacles that snatched the men and threw them across the room one by one, leaving the lead singer alone on purpose. You grinned widely from hearing them scream, curse, and panic in a room where no one could find them nor hear them. Your tentacles shove right into their mouths, silencing them forever until you were ready to eat them for later. And when you left the singer in prolonged, tense silence, you can feel the rapid, erratic beating of his heart that was soon to be gone…

“I went through Hell and came back… to finally kill you.”

For the past ten minutes, you weren’t answering your phone. Michael searched most of the estate, underestimating how big and maze-like the structure of the place was that he literally got lost. But when he was passing by a group of girls coming from the restroom, he overheard a conversation that immediately caught his attention.

“…yeah, but I was a little shy to go inside the dressing room. Flirt With Death always has groupies in there fucking or something…”

It all finally registered in Michael’s brain. Why you suddenly ran away, why you’re nowhere to be found. He was disappointed in himself for not realizing earlier, not even recognizing the band playing that was right in front of his eyes. He decided to turn into another narrow hallway where there were few people, running through each room with panic as he was still looking for you. When he found a dressing room that was apparently locked, he looked for any objects or furniture nearby that could barge open the door.

Don’t fucking tell me you did it, Y/N…

He grabbed a heavy chair, smashing it several times on the door knob to break it. He knew that he was damaging property, but he did not give a shit. The party was loud enough to block the banging sounds. Nobody was around, there were not even any cameras that he could detect in the ceiling. But he kept jamming and jamming the knob until it finally broke off, hastily shoving the door open. And the moment he noticed the room was dark and quiet, he immediately knew.

“And If I ever find the people that did this to me, I want to kill them...” He recalled your words from a year ago when you told him the truth. “And you can’t stop me, Michael. They deserve to rot in Hell for this...”

You actually fucking did it.

When Michael switched on the lights, the entire dressing room was a wretched mess covered in blood. On the walls, on the floor, some splattered onto the ceiling… It was the scene of a fucking massacre. As if a giant bucket of blood spilled and flooded the entire place. He held his breath and his eyes widened in horror, scanning the corpses with all their guts and organs hideously torn apart and some spilling out, laying in a pool of fresh crimson blood.

His gaze slowly drifted to you in the middle of the room— your wings were spread, your eyes were a different color, and your half-naked body was completely draped in fresh blood. You were feeding on the man that you told him about, the man you’ve been wanting to kill for the longest; plunging to the depths of his rufescent flesh.

“…Babe?” Michael uttered, ever so slowly and cautiously ambling closer to you. You hissed at him and bared your fangs, immediately halting a few feet away from you in underlying fear.

You took a few moments to recognize Michael’s face, trying so hard to fight the urge of accidentally eating him as well. You were slowly coming down from your frenzied, blood lust state, your sharpened eyes scanning the bloody room. The band that became famous from the lead singer selling his soul is now dead. His diabolic soul finally rotting in Hell where he belongs…

Michael inched closer, watching the way your eyes turn back to its normal color and your wings closing. “Come. Let’s go home,” your loving boyfriend insisted, holding out his hand. “I’ll wash you up and then I’ll order us something to eat.”

Holding onto him and letting him cover you up with his jacket and his arm around you, it felt as if the raging and feral tides of your soul were finally at rest. His love for you was like floating in a warm pool of warm honey and velvet; you enthralled in this beautiful rhythm of sensations that fill your energies. Leaning over to give you a gentle, reassuring kiss that was so soft, so plush, a reminder that you belong to each other forever and nothing else in this world matters.

Because when you got home that night, Michael completely forgot about washing you up and instead pressed you against the door just to kiss you. Your lungs filling with wicked lust, bodies melting together like caramel as your needy desires take over. Not even waiting a fraction of a second to settle down at home, he couldn’t fucking wait any longer. And you couldn’t either…

“Mm— Michael,” you sighed out. “I thought you were… we were gonna…”

“Shh, shh. I’m gonna take care of you, I promise. But… after seeing you tonight like that, I— I feel like something awakened in me, or… fuck, I just want you right now…”

You chuckled. “Awakened something in you?”

As much as Michael wanted to admit it, he was ashamed. “Nah, forget it. C’mon, let’s shower together.”

“Uh-uh. I’m not gonna go until you tell me.”

Michael had to mentally prepare before cringing at his own words. Recollecting himself and trying not to make things awkward, he pursed his lips and finally confessed. “Ugh, fine... When I saw your, uh— tentacles… I just thought about, you know— if you could tie me up with them?”

Never in your years of living as a succubus had a filthy, raunchy idea like this ever cross your mind. But were you opposed to it? Deep down, you were turned on by it. Tying Michael to one of your dining chairs, his wrists bound behind him as you straddled on top and teased him with your tentacles. As you kept kissing him and grinding on his thigh, one of your tentacles were wrapped around his hard cock, stroking it simultaneously that his precum was already leaking. Hearing his cute moans and whimpers gradually get louder, struggling to kiss back or try to touch you when he forgot he was tied up… you were so turned on that you kept struggling to kiss back as well.

He will never stop recalling the time when he first saw you in your succubus form, the time when something shifted within him. Not only was he turned on by your hot physical appearance as a maneating demon, but by your feral, wild, vicious behavior of ripping apart men and eating them greedily. He felt inclined to obey you, and only you; like holding him captive and chaining him up tight in the dark, making him quiver and gasp for every unobtainable breath of air. Ruin him, hurt him, mark him, corrupt him, just fucking use him for your pleasure…

As you kept riding him and stroking him, the tip of your noses press against each other in the heat of the moment. His jaw was slackened and his brows were furrowed from the white-hot waves of sensation coursing in his body.

“Fuck, Y/N— you’re so… God, I love you. I fucking love you.”

“I love you, too,” you cooed sweetly in his ear, hearing him respond with a slutty groan when you increased the pace. He involuntarily bucks his hips into the grip of your slimy tentacles, throwing his head back and clenching his fists tighter.

“I’m not gonna last, babe. I’m not gonna last— I need you to ride me, please. Please sit on my dick. I’m begging you, Y/N— God, I need to cum inside you…”

Michael's pleads were so adorable to you, it would be absolutely ruthless to deny his orgasm like that. There was just something so beautiful about a man pleading to you if he could cum inside you; something so irresistible about hearing the urgency with which he begs for permission.

“Aw, look at you. So fucking needy for me,” you teased as the tentacle stroking his aching cock slipped away. “Once you come, I’m not gonna stop riding you... You have to fucking take it.”

After hearing your words, Michael felt like he was gonna fucking explode. He was shattered. His stomach was tied up in knots the moment you planted yourself on his cock with all your weight, throwing his head back in such euphoria. His face flushed red as he watched you ride him, his cock disappearing into your pussy like magic and then reappearing much more wet and slick. He wanted to fucking touch you so bad. He wanted to adjust himself so he could thrust up into you and slap your ass like he’d always do. But with you in complete control over him, he was in a fucking bliss— his orgasm was building up already without a warning.

“Fuck, fuck… I’m so close, Y/N.”

Dizzy with desire, you felt as if you were getting closer as well as you kept riding on his dick. You can feel himself throbbing as he could feel you pulsing around him. Your fingernails were digging onto his skin, drawing your mouth closer to his and kissing him while parting away just to moan pathetically. Your thighs started to twitch, and your body thundered with tension and neediness. Every goddamn thrust and movement of your hips had you seeing stars. It was hard to pinpoint the differences between your bloodlust frenzy and your sexual frenzy— both of them had your hunger consumed and your body ablaze…

“Oh my God… Keep fucking riding me like that. You enjoy bouncing on my cock like a hot little slut, huh?”

“I’m— I’m the one that’s supposed— supposed to tease you like that, fuck,” you whined out, immediately cut off by him kissing you and humming in your mouth.

“At least I can think straight when I’m fucking you. Whenever you come— ah, fuck— you always go so dumb on my cock.”

“Oh? But you love when I do that. Just keep thinking about… the times you fucked me so hard that, I— I lost my mind…”

“You’re gonna come, Y/N. I can already tell. Fuck, I wish I can fuck up into you right now so I can pound that pretty fucking pussy…”

You tried so hard not to give him the satisfaction so quick, but your body had already betrayed you. Your lips clashed with his in urgency as too many sensations hit you all at once. As you kept bouncing your ass on him, the sounds of sticky skin clapping together slowed down as you felt that erratic pounding in your pussy and the feeling of Michael’s cum shooting inside you and pooling down onto the base of his dick. His forehead falls onto yours, shutting his eyes as you both sat there for a few minutes collecting your breaths. You let the tentacles release him so he could finally hold you and run his hands all over you, keep you in place just so you could cockwarm him.

Your softened eyes meet with his, prompting you to smile at how cute he looks. His eyes glittered like he was smitten, madly in love, the same expression he always makes every morning when you wake up. After a couple of ardent kisses, the two of you just didn’t feel like moving yet.

“So. I hope you enjoyed our anniversary so far,” Michael chuckled. “Especially after you finally got your revenge. That was fucking badass.”

You mirrored his chuckle, smirking in amusement as you kept replaying the scenes in your head of murdering the men. “You still haven’t cleaned me up yet, you know.”

“Yeah… but if we were to shower together right now, you know damn well we’re gonna go for round two. Maybe three, four, or five…”

“Then what are we waiting for…?”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

[RIDE ANNOUNCER] Please remain seated until the ride comes to a complete stop. Then collect your belongings, watch your head, and step carefully out the vehicle. The nearest exit will be on your left. On behalf of all of our crew, thanks for riding with us, and we hope you have a happy and memorable visit here at Horrorland!

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO © 2023. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost/share any of my works on any social media where minors have access. art by rin237 on instagram ♥︎

obviously inspired by Jennifer’s Body (2009.) if you read my previous fic “ flirt with death “ this is the sequel.

𖤐 TAGS. @aft0nsimp @crysugu @rinshoe @kimekioo @porcelain_clown @willsdollface @zippertwat @strawstfu @maddietries @yourfavoriteobnoxiousomnisexual @nanananamiiii @bookmark-anon @bru1sedclavicle @hehehehesthings @dvafoxxystrashcan @dorkfilmz

[daydreamsandcloudnines]

No thoughts just:

- Will Byers who asked Jonathan if his hands were ok JUST WHEN HE BARELY SURVIVED THE UPSIDE DOWN

- Will Byers all giddy seeing all of his bestfriends in Ghost Busters costume and hyping up Lucas's Vencman costume

- Will Byers asking why Jonathan wasn't with Nancy during the incident with Mrs. Driscoll at the hospital

- Will Byers letting Max join them on halloween without seeking Mike's approval since he thought Mike won't mind as he saw how excited Dustin and Lucas was

- Will Byers having the time of his life third-wheeling Lumax (just a headcanon btw 😗)

- Will Byers willing to stay with Dustin if only not for the fact that it's already late and has to go home before Joyce starts talking to the lights again, jk 🥹

- Will Byers being the only one who told Dustin 'Welcome Home' and invited him to play DND for the next day which shows how much he missed him and spending time with him and the others

- Will Byers probably hurt when Dustin couldn't make it to the DnD campaign but doesn't blame him since he knew Dustin's feelings are valid for feeling left out just as soon as he came home from camp and being all excited for his friends to talk to his girlfriend, Suzie (little did he know that Dustin was just having a code red mission with scoops troop and didn't mean to skip his campaign)

- Will Byers interrupting Jonathan and reiterating to the officer that they are El's brothers ergo she's their family ergo LET THEM SEE HER!!

- and just William Byers with Michael Wheeler

- LASTLY, WILL BYERS WHO HAD TO CANCEL HIS WHOLE AS* EMOTIONAL BREAKDOWN AND IS ALSO PROBABLY EXHAUSTED FROM TAKING DOWN CASTLE BYERS JUST SO THE PARTY CAN FOCUS ON THE BIGGER PROBLEM AT HAND (MINDFLAYER)

'Your honor, my client is guilty of being an angel' - probably me if i ever become Will's lawyer after he was charged for whatever they did at Las Vegas

William Byers, please continue existing

[caramelcleopatraa]

CAUGHT IN 4K

word count: 3.3k

x: finals are coming up, so i'm gonna be very busy, but i'm still writing y'all (this is the most consistent i've been lol) (excuse any errors of course) Hope you guys enjoyyy! leave comments... please. I love your comments.

content: Imani has a crush on Roman. Their friend group goes on live and her secret comes to the light. She thought that she was going to be rejected and move on, but things never go the way people expect. Roman Reigns x Imani, 18+ MDNI, oral (m recieving), cowg!rl, creamp!e

Imani loved weekend kickbacks. Time to chillax with her favorite people, and get her mind off of things. It was moments like these she waited for. Drinks and joints in rotation, and endless fun for hours to come. Jimmy, Jey, Roman, Trinity Talia, and Imani. She wishes that she was only thinking about the good vibes that circulated in the atmosphere, but she was focused on something else. It wasn’t like she was necessarily trying to focus on Roman, but it was inevitable when she could see him so clearly from the kitchen. She knew that having a crush on him could possibly mess up the bond that the group has, but he was so gravitating, He was perfect in her eyes. She basically textbook described him when Trinity and Talia asked her to describe her dream man: Tall, muscular, sweet, absurdly attractive, charismatic, humorous, dedicated. God, she could go on to name every single one of his attributes that she loved. She tried to brush it off as a mistake at first, but there was no part about this that was a mistake. He had a tight grip on her, and he wasn't even aware. She wonders what would happen if he felt the same way. If those pretty brown eyes she daydreamed about would reciprocate the love she was anxiously waiting to give him. She could only imagine all of the things she could do for him, to him, and provide him. If she had him all to herself, how they would spend their nights alone. How it would feel to be wrapped in his embrace. How it would feel to get lost in him between the sheets for hours, and repeat it again the next day. If she had him all to herself.

“WE GETTIN TURNT!” Talia raised her glass in the air and yelled out to her viewers, watching her through the small rectangular frame. Jimmy came around the corner with uno cards in his hands as the six of us gathered around the table. Roman, Trinity, or Jey would pop into the frame to answer a couple of questions while Jimmy shuffles the cards and Imani gathers multiple bottles to bring to the table. “Mani! They have some questions for you!” Imani joins her party, sitting the bottles on the table and scanning through the comments.

‘Do you get to go backstage with the bloodline?’

“Yes! It's amazing, I'm not gonna lie.”

‘Please do a makeup tutorial!’

“Maybe, I don't have a youtube channel.”

‘Seen any guys that have caught your eye?’

“A couple, but they ain’t nothin’ important.”

“Oh word?” Talia and Trinity both look at her with curious faces, but Imani just giggles and goes back to answering questions. 

“Ooh this is a good one. Kiss, marry, fuck: Jason Momoa, Michael B. Jordan, and Roman Reigns,” Talia reads out loud. That question got everyone’s attention. Jimmy stopped fidgeting with the cards and Roman and Jey both put their phones down impatient for her answer. “Well?” Talia was definitely setting her up, and she could feel it. Thank god for her brown skin that covered her fastly spreading blush. “Do I have to answer this?” “Yes, you do. I'm intrigued now,” Trinity says, as Imani quickly takes a double take at the entire table to see them all staring at her. She sighs before surrendering and thinking hard about the question.

“I’ll… kiss… Michael B. Jordan, fuck Jason Momoa, and marry Roman Reigns.” She instantly regretted answering the question before Trinity pried at Imani to get out more information that everyone was itching to know. “Hmm, why marry Roman?” She quickly swiped her drink off of the table and took a long sip, hiding her face. In all honesty, she wanted to say that it was the easiest choice, but that would only make her sound suspicious. And that was not a conversation that she wanted to have in front of quite literally everyone. “I'm not interested in the other guys like that.” “So you’re interested in Roman?” ‘Wait- wait! Noo that's not what I meant!’

“No, I just wouldn't marry the other two men. It’s not that deep Trin,” Imani says, a failed attempt at dismissing the conversation. “You’ve never gotten this defensive before… don’t tell me that you in your feelings.” She could see Talia smirking at the corner of her eyes. She knew she had to stop this fast. “You’re reaching Talia,” Imani says, laughing to herself. “Oooooh Imani wants the Tribal Chief, huh?” Never in her life had she ever been more embarrassed. “Jimmy, for the love of god, please start dealing the cards,” Imani says, covering her face, her words muffled by her hands. Everyone laughs, finding amusement in her nervousness. She anxiously waited for Jimmy to start dealing the cards so this moment could pass.

11:27 pm

Several rounds of uno and spades passed, and the guests were slowly starting to make their way out. She noticed Talia, Trinity, Jey, and Jimmy momentarily texting throughout the night, which would probably explain why the four of them were explaining the consequence of Imani losing a couple of rounds. “Sooooo we thought of something. Don’t be mad! It’s just a punishment for losing so much,” Talia says, sticking out her tongue. “Your punishment is that you have to ask Roman to fuck you.” ‘ASK ROMAN TO WHATT!?!?’

Her surprised face told them everything they needed to know. “You'll be fine. Uce will probably be down to fuck either way,” Jey says. Imani gave Talia a death glare, making Talia laugh. “You’re trippin’ girl. Just approach him with the right energy and make him want to stay with you. I guess this answers the question of if you have a crush on him or not.” Before she could defend herself, Roman walks in from the restroom and the four of them are gone in the blink of an eye. ‘These trifling’ heifers’

“Guess they all left. I should be on my way out then. Thank you for the food and dr-” She steps in front of him, stopping him from exiting out the front door. He looks at her with confusion. “You okay?” Her heart was beating fast. She didn't fully think out what she was going to do after she stepped in front of him, but it was now or never. 

“Fuck me.”

“...what?”

“F-fuck me.” She couldn't look him in the eye the second time. The pressure weighing on her shoulders was too much. But the thing that was racking her brain the most was how close they were. She felt like this was a disaster taking place in real time. She hears a soft chuckle, looking up to see him lightly smiling at her. “Was this your punishment for losing?” She nods, and his smile stays fixed on his face. “Do you want me to?” 

‘...did he say what I think he just said?’

Her mind is searching for an answer, a reason to say no. But she can't find any. As embarrassing and confusing this was, she had daydreamed about this moment. Maybe he was just being nice and would give her a quick fuck to fulfill the punishment. That idea became her leading thought. “You don’t have to if you’re uncomf-” “Do you want me to fuck you Imani?”

‘Shit he’s not joking.’

She slowly nods, which prompts him to lock the front door behind you. Her head was spinning, trying her hardest to maintain her composure. “Ask me again.”

“Fuck me, please,” She says nervously, eyes returning her shiny tile floors. “I don’t believe you sweetheart. Ask me again.” His hand gently grabs at her chin, making Imani look at him. Once they made eye contact, she knew that she was done for. She was already feeling weak from just looking at him. She took a deep breath before finally saying, “Please fuck me Roman.”

He wasted no time pulling her into a heated kiss. Not that she minded. This felt like a wonderful dream that she didn't want to wake up from. Only this wasn't a dream, it was real life. She finally got to feel the body that she had been drooling over. Right now, he was hers, and she was going to make the most of it. 

Her curious hands creeped along his captivating body while they explored each other’s mouths, dragging her hands up his torso from underneath his shirt. He pulled away from her soft lips to trail wet kisses from her cheek to her neck. “Not shy anymore huh?” She couldn't be shy. Her desire for him had completely taken over. “I really need you right now Roman,” She pants out. 

“Bedroom?” She nods and takes his hand in hers, leading the way to her bedroom. The sway of her hips only made Roman more aroused, as he silently admired her body from behind.

They enter her bedroom and she doesn't get a chance to close the door before being pulled into his arms again, temporarily hoisting her in the air to lay her on the spacious bed. He pulls her into another messy kiss, setting his focus on getting rid of their bothersome clothes. He quickly tore his shirt from his body and she did the same with hers. Their lips connected again, moving in harmony. He started to make his way down her body, but she squeezed his shoulders, signaling him to stop. “I wanna make you feel good first.” Roman was surprised to say the least. He kissed her tummy and replied, “Are you sure?” She gives him a confident nod, with those big doe eyes and her beautiful smile. “Alright, what do you want me to do?” “Let’s switch places.”

She scooted to the side, giving him room to lay down on the bed. She crawled down to his waist, tugging both his sweatpants and boxers down. His dick springs out of his pants, finally free from cloth restraints. Her eyes locked with his before lowering down to lick the underside of him; from his balls to his mushroom tip. A wad of spit drips from her mouth and lands on his length, using her hand to lather him up. His soft hums let her know that he was feeling good, and she was determined to make him feel a whole lot better. 

Her juicy lips start at his tip, giving small kitten licks before taking the tip in her mouth. Her warm mouth felt so good on his dick. He didn't know that Imani was this nasty. She gives him kisses up and down his shaft before taking him in her mouth again. 

She didn’t waste any time trying to tease him. He was big, and filled mer mouth well, but it’s nothing she's never handled before. Before she continued, the warmth of her mouth left him once again. “Can you record this?” Just when he thought she couldn't get more nasty. 

“Record?” She nodded her head. “Only if you’re comfortable.” “I’m more than comfortable,” Roman says, while reaching into his sweatpants pocket. He grabs his phone and opens the camera app, pressing record. “It’s recording, baby.” 

She smiles at the camera, curling her fingers around the base of his dick and tapping him against her tongue. She takes him in her mouth again for the final time, keeping her hand put at the base. She bobs her head slowly, swiveling her head from left to right. 

She keeps moving slowly, making sure to fit all she can in her mouth. Her hand that stayed curled around his base, moved in juxtaposition, stroking the rest of him that her mouth couldn't get to. “Goddamn baby, that mouth feels so good. I need that mouth around my dick all the time.” She moans in response, giving him vibrations that made him feel oh so good. She had him moaning and groaning. She didn't mind that at all. She got a big ego boost that he was so vocal from her mouth working its magic. She took note of every moan, every twitch, and any reaction he made. Right now, she was focused on his pleasure. 

His grip on his phone tightened, trying his best to keep his composure. She moved her head faster, still bobbing up and down, and using her hand to stroke his remaining inches. “Ahh s-shit mama, you keep sucking my dick like that and imma cum in your mouth.” She looks at him, already staring at her every move while she’s giving him euphoria like pleasure. She moans around his dick again, feeling her panties dampen. Her other hand massaged his balls lightly. Her slurping sounds made him close to coming. 

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Those innocent eyes staring into him as he recorded her doing such lewd things. He tried his best not to tangle his hands in her hair and fuck her mouth full of him. But her mouth felt so good, and he wanted nothing more than to cum in her mouth. He couldn’t help himself when his hands disappeared into her hair, planting his feet on the bed and fucking up into her mouth. She put her hands behind her back, letting him use her as he pleased. His thrusts were quick, but soft, his balls slapping against her chin. “Oh fuck! I’m coming mama, ooh I'm comin’.” He kept her head steady while coming deep in her throat, and she accepted with jubilation. 

She bobbed her head a few more times, trying her best to overstimulate him the most she can, until his hand grabs her chin, lifting her up. “Slow down princess,” He says, ending the recording. She crawls up to meet him, giving him a quick passionate kiss. “See how good you taste?” Roman chuckles at her boldness. “Your turn. Lie down,” He says, trying to sit up, but fails due to her pushing him back down on the bed. “I need that dick right now daddy.”

“You don’t want me to eat that pussy?” She runs her hand through her messy hair. “God yes I do, but I need you to fuck me right now.” Her eyes did more pleading than her words. 

“I wanna record this too,” she says, looking down at his chest, tracing the intricate tattoo. He feels around the bed, finally grabbing the phone and reopening the camera app. “Can you prop it up somewhere? I want you to be able to touch me.” “Already on it baby.” He climbed back further on your bed, propping the phone up against the lamp on the nightstand. While he did that, she slid off her shorts and panties, throwing them behind her. He pressed record again, and instructed her to adjust herself so the camera could capture everything. 

His hands landed on her ass as they both observed themself. His hands felt so good kneading her ass, and she saw his eyes drinking in every part of her body. He couldn't keep his hands off of her curvaceous body, and he didn't want to. “You like it?” Her soft hands massaged his shoulders, making him groan softly. “I love it baby, love this ass.” An unexpected slap to her ass made her jump. “You sound so good, daddy.” His hands move her hips along his dick, grinding her body against his. 

“How long have you been thinking about this?” She shies away from his gaze, a sudden flash of embarrassment runs through her body. She had forgotten about all of her feelings of distress and nervousness and realized that she was running on arousal and adrenaline. “A-a couple of months.” He lifts her hips and grabs his length, rubbing the tip along her slit. A few rubs up and down her slickness before impaling her on his dick. They moan simultaneously, relishing in the mind numbing pleasure. “You been thinking about taking this dick baby?” She gives him small head nods, still captured by the feeling of him inside of her. His hands cupped her chin, turning her head to the direction of the phone, steadily recording them. His hands were full of her ass, moving her up and down his shaft slowly. His unsteady breaths and her elongated moans were harmonious. “Go ‘head then. Bounce that ass on my dick.”

Her eyes focused on him as she steadied herself, her hands placed on either side of his head. She throws her ass back, his thighs catching it every time. His eyes were still glued to the phone, watching her beautiful body on top of him. But it wouldn’t be long until he faced her again, her soft titties hanging in front of his face. She had daydreamed about fucking Roman, and she was finally doing it. It gave her confidence knowing that he couldn't keep his hands off of her body. Her facial expression told her exactly how she was feeling. It was almost overwhelming how sexy she was. Beautiful smile, sexy body, paired with addicting moans that made him want to fuck her all night long. 

“Mmm~ look at you taking daddy’s dick. You’re doing so good,” Roman pants, grabbing at her breasts. His gentle praises and gruff voice was enough to make her cum. His dominating presence, his words, his touch. This man had her mind running laps. Even though he wasn’t putting in any effort, he was hitting all the right spots.

Her words were slurred, eyes rolled back, mouth wide open spewing salacious moans. Her hips slowed down, the constant rhythm created by her ass and his thighs meeting no longer lasted while she hid in the crook of his neck. Her body was decorated with a sheet of sweat that didn’t take away from her golden hue. “Look at me.” She rested on her elbows, locking her eyes onto his. Their faces were laced with lust, an unsatisfied want for each other. 

His strong arms caged her in, preventing her from squirming or escaping. She was still catching her breath while Roman planted his feet on the bed again. He places a tender kiss on her cheek before fucking up into her. She grabbed on to any part of his body that could, her eyes fluttering shut. A harsh slap to her ass makes her scream in pleasure. “I said look at me,” Roman says, demanding her full attention.

“Ohhh- my god! You feel so fucking g-good!” Roman loved watching her unravel. How she screamed for glory while he fucked her. God, he could make this his favorite hobby. Making her cum over and over again. “Mhm- fuckk- keep talking to me baby.” Her mind was foggy. She could only focus on one thing right now, how good he was dicking her down. Roman was making her feel so good. She looked at his phone propped up on the nightstand again to see their reflection. Her ass rippled from his hard strokes. That sight alone had her ready to cum. “Shhit! I’m finna cum on that big ass dick!” “Yeah? You finna cum?”

Her nails dug into his broad shoulders, feeling a knot build up in her stomach. “Cum with me Imani, let me feel you cum around my dick.”

Her eyes shut as she came, her orgasm hitting like a dam breaking, sending waves of pleasure throughout her body. His hips slowed down, but still gave her deep strokes, coming deep inside her. High pitched moans and deep grunts filled the room. His hands lazily grab her hips, allowing her to move again. She reached to grab the phone and ended the video, dropping the phone somewhere as she laid limp against his chest. His thumbs worked small circles as they both caught their breath. “I’m gonna take a shower when I get up, wanna join me?” Imani hears him chuckle, still working small circles into her hips. “Nah, we’re not done. I gotta eat that pussy, Imani.”

If these were the punishments she got for losing in spades, maybe losing wasn't so bad after all.

🏷️ tags :) @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2

[devildomwriter]

Raphael Birthday Special 100 Fun Facts

1. Raphael enjoys coming-of-age sports dramas

2. Raphael wishes the war were forgiven rather than it never happening, as evidenced in his ideal hallucinations in season 4

3. Raphael was so close to Lucifer and his brothers that everyone assumed he would join Lucifer’s side in the celestial war

4. Raphael, when having to deal with Michael, sometimes wishes he’d just followed Lucifer

5. Raphael was the youngest angel ever to be promoted to Seraph

6. Simeon claims that Raphael is scarier than any demon when he has a spear in his hand

7. Out of all the brothers, Taphael seems to have a soft spot for Belphegor

8. Raphael chased Asmodeus with his spear after learning Asmo had snuck off to the human world to party

9. The brothers would often rip and tear their clothes while running from Raphael so Raphael learned to patch and repair clothes eventually making it a hobby

10. Not knowing that Luke was compared to a Chihuahua, Raphael sewed a Chihuahua patch onto one of Luke’s belonging

11. Raphael is unable to read the room and caused Satan to flip out after comparing him to Lucifer

12. Raphael never let Mammon in his room in the Celestial Realm as he was worried about germs and other things

13. Raphael has a very unrefined palette

14. Raphael loves Solomon’s cooking

15. Not knowing how others feel about Solomon’s cooking, Raphael made Luke eat Solomon’s food so he’d grow big and strong

16. Raphael did not notice when his hand caught fire during an obstacle course climb

17. Raphael is an amazing singer

18. Raphael was often asked by the brothers to sing to them as they enjoyed it so much

19. When Belphegor got lost in a tree in the Celestial Realm it was Raphael who found and rescued him

20. Luke claims Raphael scolds the brothers so much because he genuinely cares about them

21. As a prank the brothers once replaced the sugar with salt in a cookie recipe but Raphael enjoyed it so much he asked them to make more

22. Mammon once hid a frog in a book to prank Michael but it was Raphael who stumbled into the prank and he demands no one bring it up

23. When Simeon became human it was Raphael who continued to check on him in the human world to make sure he was okay

24. Raphael is described as being meticulous, methodical, and extremely strict

25. Raphael is the one stuck looking after Michael and his ridiculous demands

26. Raphael’s official birthday is September 29th, making him a Libra

27. Raphael is one of the strongest fighters in the Celestial Realm

28. Raphael’s official job is a Hit-Man for the Celestial Realm

29. Raphael does have wings in his angelic form, as Mammon once tried to sell bird feathers to the lesser angels, claiming they were Raphael’s

30. Raphael is the angel that Michael trusts the most

31. Raphael is one of the most respected angels in the Celestial Realm

32. Raphael is worried that Michael may want to attend RAD

33. When Michale snuck off to the Devildom disguised as Raphael, Raphael took over all of his duties

34. Raphael knows Solomon as the man who fought the Devildom all on his own

35. Raphael was the first of the new characters to make a move on MC

36. Raphael starred in a short film Satan made

37. Raphael asked Solomon to create a camera that would always take pictures from the best angle

38. Raphael accidentally saved everyone from certain death when he ate all of the food Solomon had made as a surprise

39. Raphael believe everyone is very kind and generous when they offer him their portions of Solomon’s cooking

40. Raphael mastered Kung-fu just by watching movies

41. The only thing Raphael said in his introduction to RAD as a new exchange Student was “Hello.”

42. Raphael used to drink heavy with Lucifer and Michael

43. Raphael doesn’t care how food tastes as long as it looks appetizing

44. Raphael keeps all his important keys on a Zombie Iguana keychain Luke gave him

45. Raphael has the power to call forth a rain of spears from the heavens

46. Raphael would usually punish the brothers by calling down his spears upon them

47. Whenever Raphael would chase around one of the brothers with a spear, the other brothers would gang together to go fight him

48. Raphael nearly smited a demon with his spears when he thought he was being ignored

49. Raphael believes Luke is a shining example of what an angel ought to be

50. Raphael enjoys watching true-crime

51. Raphael worked with Satan and Barbatos to surround a sleeping Belphegor with spears and crime tape to recreate a scene from their favorite show

52. Raphael worked together with Mephistopheles to throw a Christmas party

53. Raphael believes a few spears is an acceptable replacement for a Christmas tree

54. Raphael dropped his Student handbook while chasing Mammon for pulling a ridiculous prank on him. When MC gave it back he was so grateful he offered to help them with anything they needed

55. When the laundry machine overflowed with suds, Raphael didn’t know what to do so he called down his spears upon it

56. Raphael believes Simeon is a handful

57. Raphael’s immediate answer to stopping a problem is to call down his spears

58. Raphael has to retold the laundry after Solomon does it so it will look better and seems distressed when he is called away and Solomon is left on his own.

59. Raphael praised Mephistopheles when he saved Luke, likely the first time he’d complimented a demon

60. Raphael’s excuse for always calling down spears on the brothers is they were “simply too unruly”

61. Raphael once went sightseeing in the Celestial Realm with Lucifer but they recall the most memorable part being Michael’s face when they forgot to buy souvenirs

62. Raphael believes most Devildom products look dodgy and is concerned by the amount of skulls

63. Raphael enjoys demonus

64. Raphael prefers quiet places and if you cannot find him he is somewhere quiet

65. When Belphegor was attempting to make Raphael smile he didn’t until Belphegor gave up and feel asleep as it reminded him of the old days

66. It’s hard to decipher what Raphael is thinking since he doesn’t talk much

67. Raphael often helps Luke study

68. Raphael is offended if MC accidentally mistakes him for Michael as he believes Michael is a socially inept weirdo

69. When a chimera attacked Simeon, Raphael was so enraged he immediately sought vengeance

70. It is said Raphael rarely smiles

71. Michael and Lucifer are the only people Raphael is said to respect

72. The room in Purgatory Hall Raphael stays in used to be used as a storage room by Leviathan

73. When Raphael is in a dream world where the brothers are back in the celestial realm he refused to wake up until Lucifer was summoned to bring him back

74. Whenever the brothers would ask Raphael to play with them he would deny them by telling them if they had time to play they had time to pray

75. Raphael is said to have a snarky attitude to the point Lucifer used to find him unpleasant to be around

76. No one is safe from Raphael’s harsh remarks as he even insults Michale who, he deeply respects

77. Raphael used to scold Beelzebub for his lack of control of his powers

78. When asked about his level of cooking, Simeon tells MC it’s better not to know

79. When Raphael attempts complicated recipes he causes chaos in the kitchen to the point Luke started screaming in fear

80. Raphael is a sleepy drunk and if he has too much he can fall asleep mid-sentence

81. Raphael has an eye for detail

82. Raphael sometimes does not notice anything in his surrounding, once not even realizing Belphegor was speaking with him

83. Raphael ignores non-verbal cues

84. Raphael believes Satan is so similar to Lucifer is uncanny

85. Raphael quickly noticed torn clothes or loose threads as he immediately noticed when MC’s shirt had frayed and fixed it with great skill

86. When they went to a concert together Raphael learned all the lines beforehand and everyone enjoyed hearing him sing while he enjoyed singing with MC

87. Raphael owns the Peeking-Out-From-Behind-a-Pole Diavolo Cup-cutie

88. When they swapped rooms Raphael seemed confused that Simeon spent the entire night trying to clean up his room

89. Raphael takes meticulous notes in his Student handbook, highlighting pages, leaving sticky notes and more to help him study

90. When solomon got an extremely comfortable sofa, Raphael warned against it as anyone without extreme self control may laze about in it the entire day, but it quickly called out by Simeon for having fallen victim to it

91. Raphael requests dishes from Solomon

92. Raphael enjoys Moe Moe Animal cake, Stewed Orthrus, Death’s Door hot sauce, and food with flavors too strong for most people to handle

93. Raphael made outfits for his cursed doll after seeing Leviathan do so. Everyone says the outfits he made were very cute.

94. Michael asked Raphael for so many souvenirs when he went on vacation that Simeon and MC had to help him get them all as he barely made a dent in the list even with his arms full

95. Raphael prefers getting souvenirs with Logos, that way everyone knows where you’ve been

96. When Solomon accidentally froze Raphael’s demonus, Raphael seemed so sad that Solomon immediately poured him another glass

97. When assigned to make thank you cards for his friends, Raphael made everyone the exact same card and was forced to redo them

98. When Raphael is really enjoying himself he will start humming

99. Raphael says he could spend days in the the most expensive Devildom boutique due to his enjoyment inspecting all the high quality material used

100. Raphael is not good at doing his own makeup, it was described as a mess on his face

[harunayuuka2060]

Kid MC: *who is now four years old* Papa! You're going to be late!

Simeon: Nn... Five more minutes...

Kid MC: *pouts* Papa! *starts shaking him by the shoulder*

Simeon: *chuckles* Papa will get up after five minutes.

Kid MC: *pouts even more*

Simeon: *acts cutely* Papa was very tired yesterday...

Simeon: Does Papa not deserve five more minutes of sleep?

Kid MC: ...

Kid MC: *hugs him* Sorry, Papa. You go sleep more.

Simeon: You're taking a nap with Papa?

Kid MC: But I'm not tired.

Simeon: Okay. Just hug Papa, okay?

Kid MC: Hm!

Simeon: *smiles*

Raphael: Simeon, we will have to go to the human world to buy some things Michael need.

Simeon: Um... Can you ask Luke instead? I'm sure he'll be happy to help.

Raphael: He has other things to do. Besides, you aren't that busy, Simeon.

Simeon: Well... I've got plans. *planning to throw a small birthday for MC*

Raphael: ...

Raphael: We just need to complete Michael's grocery list.

Simeon: ...

Simeon: As long as we return before it gets dark in the human world.

Raphael: Of course.

Luke: *holding the key to Simeon's room*

Luke: Michael asked me to investigate. I wonder if Simeon did something to gain suspicion.

Luke: *shakes his head* No! I'm sure I'll find nothing! Simeon has always been an honest angel! *inserts the key and turns the doorknob*

Luke: *as soon as he opens the door*

Kid MC: Did you forget something, Papa—

Luke: ...

Kid MC: *looks innocently at him* Hm? You're not Papa.

Luke: ...

Simeon: *has been looking at the birthday cake that is on the display*

Raphael: Do you want to buy that one?

Simeon: Yes. It looks delicious.

Raphael: Indeed. I'm sure your child will like it.

Simeon: ...

Simeon: *turns his head at him*

Simeon: What are you talking about, Raphael?

Raphael: They're probably four years old now, aren't they?

Simeon: ...

Raphael: I'll buy that cake for you.

Michael: Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday~ Happy birthday~

Michael: Happy birthday to you~! Make a wish, MC.

Kid MC: I'll wait for Papa!

Michael: He'll be arriving in a moment. Don't worry.

Simeon: MICHAEL!

Michael: He's just in time. *smiles* Please join us, Simeon.

Kid MC: Papa! *runs to hug him*

Simeon: *immediately kneels to check them* Are you okay? Did something happen?

Kid MC: Uncle Luke entered the room and they made a surprise birthday party!

Simeon: ...

Michael: *chuckles* That's right. Come, Simeon.

Michael: MC still need to make their wish.

Kid MC: Let's make a wish together, Papa!

Simeon: ...

Simeon: *nods* *forced a smile* Yes.

The angels: *looking at them with judging eyes*

Simeon: ...

Kid MC: Papa?

Simeon: *carries them up* *smiles genuinely this time* Happy birthday, my child. I'm sorry that Papa didn't hold a party until now.

Kid MC: It's okay! I know Papa is busy and we were playing hide-and-seek!

Simeon: *pressed his forehead against theirs* Thank you.

Kid MC: *smiling*

Michael: *observing them*

Luke: ...

Luke: Michael...

Michael: *smiles* It's alright, Luke. Trust me. There's nothing to worry about.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Dan Rather at Steady:

The morning after the election, I was talking with a friend who said something that made me pause: “The American people aren’t buying what the Dems are selling.” At the time I acknowledged the notion but filed it away for closer inspection, once the shock wore off.  Vice President Kamala Harris and the Democratic Party were selling hope and freedom, upholding the rule of law, saving democracy. What’s not to buy? With the benefit of lots of discussion, reading, watching, and thinking over the past 17 days, it became apparent that that analysis is incomplete.  It isn’t that the American people didn’t buy what Harris was selling; they didn’t know what she was selling. The increasingly powerful right-wing media championed her opponent’s message while distorting hers. And millions of Americans bought it. 

As The New Republic editor Michael Tomasky wrote, “It wasn’t the economy. It wasn’t inflation, or anything else. It was how people perceive those things, which points to one overpowering answer.” The right-wing media now controls the agenda.   For those of us who grew up on a steady diet of truth-telling, it’s gut-wrenching to see this mega misinformation machine grow into a multi-headed monster.   Perhaps it shouldn’t come as a shock. Gallup says trust in the media is at an all-time low. The most trusted news source according to YouGov is … The Weather Channel. Couple that with exit polls showing people who consume a lot of news from traditional sources voted overwhelmingly for Harris. 

If you only read The New York Times or watch CNN or so-called legacy networks such as CBS News, you might be surprised to learn there is a vast right-wing media ecosystem that goes well beyond Fox News. Founded in 1996, Fox is the granddaddy of the far-right media but has since been joined by Newsmax and One America News Network. This media universe also includes Sinclair Broadcasting, which owns hundreds of radio and TV stations — reaching 40% of the viewing public — and newspapers, including the recently purchased Baltimore Sun; iHeartMedia, which dominates right-wing talk radio and podcasting; Trinity and Bott Radio, two massive Christian broadcasting networks; social media platforms like Trump’s own Truth Social and X, owned by Trump bestie Elon Musk; and a multitude of hugely popular far-right podcasts.  Collectively, these various and varied media outlets have been feeding growing audiences a constant diet of disinformation for years. They have been fighting and winning an information war Democrats didn’t seem to know existed. The 2024 election may have been the inflection point when the right-wing media’s influence finally eclipsed the mainstream media. That is a major reason a convicted felon won with just under 50% of the popular vote.

The landscape is changing at light speed. Today, traditional media is not where most people get their news. Not so long ago you had to pick up a morning newspaper or turn on a television at a specific time to get news. Now “news” is available 24-7, from hundreds of sources, in tiny bite-sized portions, often without the benefit of context or even fact-checking. Right-wing outlets peddling half truths have learned how to navigate and thus dominate this new landscape. It is important to note that this battle is being waged between right-leaning media and mainstream media. The combatants are not two ideologues. One group is pushing a hard-right agenda, and the other is striving to report and expose the truth. The social media landscape mirrors this reality. On the right, you have Truth Social and X. On the left, not much. In reaction to the misinformation rampant on its sites during the 2020 election, Meta-owned platforms like Facebook and Instagram removed most political content.

An excellent read from longtime CBS News journalist Dan Rather on how right-wing media propaganda being fed to millions of Americans without any real fact-checking of lies is what led to Donald Trump become a Presidential candidate in the first place, let alone win twice.

[mariacallous]

A well-known Georgian transgender model has been murdered, local officials said, a day after the government passed legislation that will impose sweeping curbs on LGBTQ+ rights in the country.

Georgia’s interior ministry said Kesaria Abramidze, 37, was believed to have been stabbed to death in her apartment in suburban Tbilisi on Wednesday.

Georgian media later reported that a man had been arrested in connection with the crime.

Abramidze was one of the country’s first openly trans public figures. Her death follows controversial legislation on “family values and the protection of minors” that will allow officials to outlaw Pride events and censor films and books.

The law, which was approved by the Georgian parliament on Tuesday in its third and final reading, includes bans on same-sex marriages and gender-affirming treatments. It is expected to be another point of contention between Georgia and the EU as the country seeks to join the bloc.

Critics argue that the bill, initially introduced by the ruling Georgian Dream party in the summer, mirrors laws enacted in neighbouring Russia, where authorities have implemented a series of repressive anti-LGBTQ+ measures over the past decade.

Although the motive behind Abramidze’s murder remains unclear, her death was swiftly cast by Georgian civil society as part of a state campaign against minorities in the country.

Under the Georgian Dream party, which has taken an increasingly anti-liberal stance, the country has seen a rise in violence against LGBTQ+ people.

Last year, hundreds of opponents of gay rights stormed an LGBTQ+ festival in Tbilisi, forcing the event to be cancelled. This year, tens of thousands of people marched in the capital to promote “traditional family values” at an event attended by the ruling party amd the deeply conservative and influential Orthodox church.

“There is a direct correlation between the use of hate speech in politics and hate crimes,” the Social Justice Center, a Tbilisi-based human rights group, said in its statement reacting to the murder.

“It has been almost a year that the Georgian Dream government has been aggressively using homo/bi/transphobic language and cultivating it with mass propaganda means,” it added.

On Wednesday, Josep Borrell, the EU’s top diplomat, called on the Georgian government to withdraw the “family values” law, warning it would harm Georgia’s chances of joining the bloc. The legislation would “increase discrimination & stigmatisation”, he said on X.

After Abramidze’s death, Michael Roth, the Social Democratic party chair of the Bundestag foreign affairs committee in Germany, echoed that call. “Those who sow hatred will reap violence. Kesaria Abramidze was killed just one day after the Georgian parliament passed the anti-LGBTI law,” Roth wrote on X.

The introduction of the law comes just five weeks before parliamentary elections that many see as a litmus test of whether Georgia, once one of the most pro-western former Soviet states, will now drift towards Russia.

The country’s pro-western president, Salome Zourabichvili, whose functions are mostly ceremonial, is expected to veto the law before it comes into effect. However, Georgian Dream and its allies have enough seats in parliament to override her veto.

Earlier this year, the Georgian Dream also pushed through the divisive “foreign influence” law, which western critics argue is authoritarian and Russian-inspired, and has derailed the country’s EU aspirations.

Meanwhile, tributes have started to pour in for Abramidze, who represented Georgia at Miss Trans Star International in 2018 and had more than 500,000 followers on Instagram.

“Kesaria was iconic! Provocative, wise, incredibly brave! A trailblazer for Georgia’s trans rights,” Maia Otarashvili, a Georgian political scientist, wrote on X.

Zourabichvili said the murder should be a “wake-up call” for Georgian society.

“A terrible murder! The death of this beautiful young woman … should not be in vain!” the president wrote on Facebook.

[kvetchlandia]

Mariel Hemingway, Woody Allen, Michael Murphy and Anne Bryne, Screenshot from Allen's "Manhattan" 1979

I don't generally go to Woody Allen for political advice, but with the horrors of American political reality increasing by the day; with His Imperial Highness, Generalissimo, Field Marshall, Dear Leader, Duce and Defender of the Cult, Trump I, increasingly wreaking havoc on the pathetic remains of American civil society; with the government more and more resembling an autocracy ruled by dictate rather than by law and with the literal beginnings of Trump's brownshirts, the racist, antisemitic and violently reactionary Jan 6 putschist wannabes pardoned by their leader and ready to do battle for him on the streets, I keep flashing on Germany in 1932, when the nazis could still have been stopped had the Communists and Social Democrats ended their short-sighted political squabbling and joined together to fight their common enemy, the nazis. They didn't, and we all know the history that followed, a history in which most of my family died in murder camps, through starvation and illness in ghettos or from being shot by einsatzgruppen death squads. This is where Woody Allen comes in. In his 1979 film, Manhattan, there's a tiny yet brilliant little piece of dialogue during which Allen's character, Isaac Davis, mentions the only appropriate way to interact with nazis.

Isaac Davis: Has anybody read that Nazis are gonna march in New Jersey? Y'know, I read this in the newspaper. We should go down there, get some guys together, y'know, get some bricks and baseball bats and really explain things to them. Party Guest: There is this devastating satirical piece on that on the Op Ed page of the Times, it is devastating. Isaac Davis: Well, a satirical piece in the Times is one thing, but bricks and baseball bats really gets right to the point.

[darlingshane]

do-over

Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: Thanks to your friend Claire you get a chance to rectify a mistake you did many years ago when you went out with Michael the first time around.

CW: 18+, smut, some angst, making out, vaginal sex, smoking, drinking, Michael is a recovering addict, talk about addiction, reader has a secret, old friends, confessions, scars, pet names, brief appearances of Carmy, Richie and Claire.

Word Count: 6,2k

A/N: I realized after writing this that I made Michael younger by saying reader was friends with Claire, and implied that they were all close in age, but it's all really vague. The timelines don't make sense in The Bear anyway, so don't look too closely. This was just for fun. -- Also, reader has a nickname. Don't ask me why, it just came out like that. They simply call her Zu or Zuzu.

— Links: AO3 // Michael Masterlist.

“You remember Mikey and Richie, right?” your friend Claire asks, pointing at the two guys coming into the backyard with Carmy to join the party.

“Hm. I think so,” you say casually before taking a long sip of your glass.

You do remember both, actually.

Michael especially.

It’s hard to forget one of the most embarrassing nights of your life. It was over a decade ago when you had the slim chance to make out with the guy you’ve had a crush on for years and only accomplished to make a fool out of yourself.

It’ll forever haunt you.

Michael finally asked you out at the end of your senior year, and you said yes. You went to a movie, got some food afterward, then you ended at a house party from one of his friends. Everything was going great, you were dancing and laughing, he got close, you got closer. You started kissing and then ended up in one of the rooms. Door closed. That was it. It was only you and him making out and everything was going perfect. It seemed like a dream to find that he wanted you almost as much as you wanted him. Perhaps he wasn’t into you as you were, but it was hard to think critically at that moment with his hands and lips all over you.

Now, you had fooled around before with the only guy you ever dated in high-school, but you never went all the way or ever touched you like Michael’s hands did. And given your inexperience in the field, only a few minutes of heavy petting, and you were ready to explode. There was a surge awakening something in your core that you weren’t too familiar with. Not even your own fingers ever managed to make you feel something that powerful. And when he started pressing himself between your legs that pressure building between your thighs decided to set itself free. All of a sudden, you were clutching your knees so hard to his hips, your whole body trembled underneath as you came in your panties.

You’ve heard about boys precociously coming more often than not, but never realized that was something that could happen to girls too. It made you feel nothing but pure embarrassment. You tried to hide it but all the magic was gone. And after that, you excused yourself to the bathroom to put yourself together and couldn’t handle going back to face him. So, you sneaked out the bathroom window like the biggest dork.

You never talked to him again after that.

Back then, you all ran in the same circles, but you stood away from those circles during the last couple of weeks of school to avoid running into him again. You saw him from afar a couple of times and that was it. Soon after, everyone went on separate ways for work, college or wherever they end up. You, for example, left Chicago after graduating and ended up living a good chunk of those years in Denver. The few times you’ve come to your home city, you never really tried to see him again. You ran into Natalie a handful of times, and saw Carmy when you were visiting Claire but never crossed paths directly with Michael again until today.

“Zu… you and I both know that you do remember him,” Claire nudges your elbow. “Don’t tell me you still wouldn’t hit that today if you could. And you’re single now, so…”

“Please, tell me you didn’t set this up.”

She doesn't deny it, just gives you that obvious look under her framing, evil, perfect eyebrows. Claire knew pretty well you were head over heels for Michael Berzatto once upon a time, but you never told her about that night. It’s probably safe to say he didn’t tell anyone about it either. Otherwise, you’d have heard about it by now. Someone would’ve teased you about it for sure, but no one ever did.

It really takes you aback to see him once more.

You wish she’d have given you the heads-up so you could prepare mentally to see him again. Though, it was a long time ago, you’ve often looked with regret at leaving him hanging. You’ve wondered way too many times what he thought about that night. It's not like he was infatuated with you, as far as you know. He never showed any interest before that week, so it's hard to imagine him being too heartbroken about it.

Carmy glances around looking for the two of you. Claire lifts her arm to call his attention.

“Oh, look, here's your chance.” Your friend teases you as they come closer.

“Cool it, C, please?” you say between teeth and throw back your cup before the three of them come to a stop in front of you.

She beams as Carmy quietly greets you with a one arm short hug.

“You made it! Thought you'd be too cool for a thing like this.”

“Nope, we're two fucking losers showing up at a kegger cause we got nothing better to do,” Richie chuckles. “What are we celebrating again?”

“We're not celebrating anything. We're here for moral support for Kerry. Her boyfriend just broke up with her, and she needed some people around.”

“And you thought that throwing a keg party was a good idea?” Michael finally opens his mouth and his voice just transports you back to that unforgettable night and that last thing he said to you…

You smell so fucking good.

It echoes in your head. It's printed on your skin how those words vibrated when he was tongue-deep devouring your neck.

It’s hard to keep your eyes off Michael. He still has that alluring presence that mesmerized you the first time you met him. Even more so, you'd say. His features are sharper, his stubbled jaw makes him look more rugged than you remember. Though you miss his mop of curls, the crew cut and the fade on his nape suits him really well. His outfit hasn't changed much from a casual t-shirt with jeans. You take in every detail in a once-over. Your stare lingers for a moment on the way the hem of his short sleeves hugging tightly his toned biceps, and how his veins draw the length of his arms. His shoulders seem broader in his relaxed stance. There's a tiny scar adoring his cupid's bow that you only see when he runs his tongue across his lips.

You have to make an effort to tear your eyes away from him before turning into a total creep.

“You guys remember Zuzu here, from school?” Claire's head tilts in your direction while the younger Berzatto links an arm around her waist.

“You two were practically inseparable, how could anyone forget?” Says Richie again, offering his hand up to you. “It's good to see you again, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, it's good to be back,” you shake his hand firmly and then hold it up to Michael, and try to keep your pulse steady when he wraps his large paw around yours.

“You've moved back?” it's Michael that asks this time, trying to lock eyes with you, but you refuse to let him.

“I'm in the process of it. I'm staying with Claire for a couple of weeks while I get all my stuff back, and set up everything…”

You explain while Carmy fetches three cups from the table. He fills them using the keg’s tap, and brings them over. He hands one to Richie. Michael waves his off and lights up a cigarette instead.

“You should ask her to hang out sometime. She doesn't know how to have fun anymore.”

Daggers shootout of your eyes when you glance at Claire.

“I'm here, am I?”

“Yeah but you don't seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I mean you brought me to the most depressing kegger I've ever been to. I didn't know people still did this, but they're lamer than I remember.”

“Pfft, she's got a point there,” Michael scoffs. “I can come up with a hundred things on the spot that would be better than… whatever this is.”

“It was last minute. What would you guys have done, huh?”

“DJ for starters,” Richie chimes in.

“Food,” Michael adds.

“Better beer,” Carmy suggests.

“Strippers,” you say, and they all burst into laughter.

“I could definitely go for some strippers,” Richie holds his hand up for you to give him a high-five, and you quickly smack his palm.

While you empty your cups gulp after gulp, you chat with them for a bit, noticing more often than not Michael staring at you even when you're not the one talking. Maybe it's only in your head, but it still makes you anxious to find his eyes glancing at you as if he was trying to figure you out.

It's certainly not only in your head, cause when your phone beeps in your pocket, you check it out to see a text message from Claire who just coincidentally has her phone in her hand right next to you.

Be careful, big bear is checking you out. — it reads on your screen.

Raising a brow at your annoying, dear friend, you shake your head before typing.

Did you tell him anything about me?

I’d never sell you out.

. . .

You start typing a response but your phone starts ringing, and it’s a call you must take. So you hold that thought, and go find a quieter place away from the house by walking out to the street and pace slowly down the pavement while you talk to your mother for a couple of minutes.

When you go back inside, the group has split. You go around the house to find Richie playing poker with some guys at the dining table. Carmy and Claire are talking with Kerry on the couch, and when you look to the side you spot Michael leaning against the archway between the living room and kitchen, lighting up a second cigarette before seeing you there standing. He gives you a quick nod, and you can only nod back, and turn around to press your teeth on the brim of your solo cup until it rips.

Being here in this house, this room with all these people and music playing feels like a time capsule. It transports you back to that time. As much as you've grown out of your old self, you can help but feel that old awkwardness creeping in to undo all the work you’ve done to come out of your shell.

When you discard the cup, you go upstairs to find a bathroom since the one in the hallway was occupied. Once you're done in the bathroom, you come out to find Michael climbing up the same stairs before crossing paths with you.

“Hey, Zuzu.” His lips quirk up as you both stop in front of the other.

“Hey,” you say back.

“Thought you left.”

“No, I just went to the bathroom,” you use your thumb to point at the door, as he leans back on the wall behind him, crossing one foot over the other.

“So you know where the bathroom is?”

“Sorry?”

“Last time I saw you, you said you were going to the bathroom but never came back. Figure it was your version of the old dad excuse of – I went out for cigarettes. And then ran for the hills.”

He’s smiling, but his tone sounds passive-aggressive, and you can’t tell at all if he’s joking or not.

“Oh, you remember that, huh?” You choose to believe he’s kidding around.

“I haven’t thought about it in a while. Then I saw you here… I wasn’t going to say anything but I… I guess I’ve always wondered what happened.”

“Why? Did I hurt your ego?”

“No, my ego’s intact. But I got really worried when you didn’t come back. Thought maybe I made you feel uncomfortable or something… I just… You don’t owe me anything, but I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

With a long sigh, you prop your back on the opposite wall and collect your thoughts.

This is it. Your moment to explain if you want. You have nothing to lose. The fact that he remembers could mean that he liked you more than he led.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Michael. It was me… I uh… I felt like I didn’t know what I was doing. I had never hooked up with someone like that until you. I had some experience, but not that kind of experience if you know what I mean.”

You pause and he nods kindly at your confession.

“I guess I was afraid of going too far, or not going far enough, or disappointing you. I wanted to go back so badly, but I couldn't.”

“You could’ve told me that. You could've said– hey, maybe we should slow down… I’d have never pushed you to do anything that you didn’t want.”

“I didn’t know that. I’m not good at reading people. Guys especially. I wasn’t sure how you’re going to react, and I just bolted. I’m sorry.”

“Nah, don’t apologize,” he waves you off. “I get it.”

“It was one of those moments that I wish I could go back and do things differently, you know? I've done a lot of things in my life that I regret, but that one was just embarrassing.”

“Don't beat yourself up, sweetheart. We were kids. There's nothing to be embarrassed about anymore. Sorry I asked… Didn't mean to make you feel bad or anything.”

“It's okay.” You pause and bite the inside of your cheek for a moment. “Can I ask you something now?”

“Shoot.”

“Did you even like me? Or was it like a one time kinda thing?”

He bashfully scratches the back of his head before answering.

“I asked you out, didn't I?”

“That's not really an answer, Berzatto.”

“Of course I liked you. I always thought you were kind and funny and easygoing. And yeah, for a moment I really saw us together. Is that a good enough answer for you?”

“That's perfect…” you sigh, glancing at the floor for a beat. “Talk about bad timing, huh?”

“Hey, we could have a do-over.” He suggests.

“Tell me you’re joking.” You scoff.

“Not if you want to. You said you wish you could go back… I’m down if you’re down.”

“That easy, huh?”

“Yeah, why not? I hate when people complicate things. I’m not seeing anyone, Claire said you aren’t either… It’s easy math for me.”

“And I thought I was the crazy one,” you chuckle.

“Is it crazy? Think about it. What are the odds of you and me running into each other over a decade later? It seems like fate to me.”

“Hm, fate looks a lot like Claire.”

“So what if she played a hand? She didn't know that I'd show up for sure. I almost didn't. If it wasn't for Paulie coming to cover Gary's shift, I'd be stuck at the shop right now.”

“Maybe you're right.”

“But?”

“No buts. I just… I'm not the same person you knew. Maybe I’m not as easygoing, kind and funny as I was.”

“I’ll be the judge of that but hey, I'm not the same person either. We could just hang out and see if we like those people. What do you say?”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Yeah?” the corner of his mouth pulls up.

“Yeah, it just so happens I'm free today. I could come over later if you want.”

Since you're staying at Claire's and don't feel comfortable bringing anyone to her apartment, you agree to meet at his place an hour after the party.

Once you’ve exchanged numbers, you receive a text with his address.

You use that hour to go by Claire's place and pamper yourself a little. You're not really sure if it's a date or not but in any case you prepare yourself mentally and physically as if it was. You've older now, and have more confidence and experience than all those years ago. It doesn’t matter if you haven't been with a guy in a while, you can't pass up a chance at a once in a lifetime opportunity to rectify that awful night. Or at least replace it with a new memory. Hopefully.

Claire comes back just in time to see you doing your makeup.

“You going out?”

You nod as she leans on the bathroom’s door frame.

“Michael? Wow, you didn’t waste time. I left you alone for five minutes. See, I was right. You two would be perfect for each other.”

“Don’t ring the bells just yet. We're just hanging out.”

“Does he know about Sam?”

“No, I don't think so. Unless you or Carmen told him. I can’t keep track of what you guys tell others.”

“We didn't. It's your story to tell. But I'm just saying, you don't have to keep it a secret.”

“It's not a secret. It just didn't come up.”

“Well, you should give him a chance, he might surprise you.”

“I'll try.”

It's the last thing you say before heading out to meet Michael.

On the way there, you think carefully about what Claire said and decide to tell him upfront about Sam. It shouldn’t be a dealbreaker. You’re just hanging out. But because you know guys, and you’ve been burned in that department before, you ready yourself for any outcome.

Michael offers you a drink after closing the door to his apartment. You can tell he’s done the same as you. He’s showered, his hair is still damp, his face is clean-shaven now, and he’s wearing a different t-shirt now sans The Beef logo.

Opting for having a drink, he pours a tequila shot for you on the breakfast bar after giving you a short tour of his one-bedroom apartment while he sips from a mug filled with fresh coffee.

“I uh… I have to tell you something,” you start after downing your shot and sitting on one of the barstools.

“Oh.”

“I don’t do this often, you know? Going to a guy's place like this– I mean, I have. A couple of times. But this isn’t a frequent occurrence in my life. Or a priority.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn't. He stares at you instead, asking you to keep going with his curious gaze, as he leans his forearms on the counter.

“This shouldn’t affect you but for the sake of honesty, I thought you should know that I have a daughter.”

“Why would that affect me?”

“Like I said, it shouldn’t. But a lot of guys tend to get weird upon knowing that about me.”

“Well, that's on them. We agreed this was just to get to know each other, right? We can't do it if we pick and choose the parts we want to share.”

You nod firmly. “You're right.”

“Can I ask how old she is?”

“Yeah, she’s three. She called earlier, well, my mom did, and said she was having so much fun she wanted to stay the night.”

“That’s beautiful, Zu. Guess you have to take your chances whenever you can, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“And the father?”

“He’s not in the picture. He pays for the frame, but he’ll never be in it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“His loss.”

He props a hand on the edge of the bar, using the other to pick up the bottle and fill your empty shot glass.

“If we’re laying our cards on the table, I think it’s only fair to confess something too before moving forward.”

Now it’s your time to give him the same curious look he gave you before as he explains.

“I don’t do this often either. At least not as much as I used to. And I’ve never said out loud this to anyone that wasn’t in a room filled with people like me… Not even my family.”

You can see he’s struggling to find the words and courage to admit something, but you don’t push on it until he’s ready to say–

“I’m a recovering addict.” His voice is even, tinged with a dab of shame. But he looks you directly in the eye to gauge your reaction. “It’s been almost a year and just starting to feel back to normal. Or whatever that means. A couple of months ago I wouldn't have felt confident enough to invite anyone here. Hell, going to a party would’ve been unthinkable for me… But I’m still trying to figure it all out, you know? If that’s a dealbreaker for you…”

“It’s not. I wasn’t expecting that, but I’m glad you told me. I uh… I hope this question doesn’t come across as judgmental but is it safe for you to keep alcohol in the house?” you point to the tequila bottle.

“Alcohol isn’t my poison,” he scoffs. “But I don’t drink anymore either if I can help it.”

“You go to meetings?”

“Yeah, NA. Every week.”

“And your family doesn’t know?”

“They know some of it, but not how bad it got.”

“I feel out of my depth here but wouldn’t it be better to have someone close to talk to?”

He shrugs, “you know the Berzattos. We all have problems, we’ll rather pretend everything’s good than to admit we’re all batshit.”

“Sorry for prying.”

“No, it’s fine. I opened that door. Richie knows though. He’s seen the worst of it, has picked me up many times when I couldn’t even get up. He’s always been there, even when he doesn’t know what to say.”

“That’s good. And if it helps, I don’t think you’re crazy. It’s brave to admit that you have a problem, let alone face it on your own. Takes courage.”

“Guess a single mom would know a thing or two about courage.”

“I suppose so,” you gaze at your shot glass before tilting it over your lips.

“One more?”

“No, no. Two is enough for me. Thanks.”

You stare at the other, not sure how to proceed after that. Shit, maybe you went too deep too fast, but it’s good to have everything out in the open. If anything, it only makes him more attractive to see that he can look at his own flaws and own them. Most guys you’ve ever been with never had the balls to look you in the eye and confess something so fucked up and personal.

“Do you wanna keep talking or should we try…?” you trail off.

“Whatever you want sweetheart. I love talking to you.” He lifts his coffee mug up to his lips and takes a long sip.

“Is that a line?”

“No, it’s the truth.”

He grins, placing his mug down, and you just know it’s definitely a line by the way his lips curve up lopsided. Which you don’t hate. Though you like talking to him as well, you’d rather be doing something else than spend all night rehashing all your problems.

Standing up from your barstool, you go around the bar to face him closer. You lick your lips and tentatively cup his face before placing a small kiss on his coffee-tainted lips. His face heats up beneath your palms, and you watch his mouth curl on both sides before locking eyes with him. It’s not until you look at him up close that you can notice the difference in his beautiful browns from all those years ago. They were once eager, sparkly, and mischievous. There’s still some of that, and much more depth than you remember. There’s a lot of sadness too, and a new shade of tenderness you haven’t seen in anyone before.

“Do you think you can kiss me the way you did last time?” Your mouth draws a smile.

“I think I can do better.”

“Yeah? I’d like to see that.”

You both laugh for a beat before noticing his knuckles caressing your neck.

“Do you wanna go slow?” His fingers trail slowly up to your jaw as you nod a “yeah, slow is good.”

Fast would be okay too but you wanna taste this moment like you never got to.

As your hands slide down to hold his sides, his palms reach up to cradle your face. His head leans to the side at the same time his tongue juts out to wet his lips. His face dips, quickly shortening the distance to your mouth to capture the flavor of your kiss. It seems like a terrible combination to mix coffee and tequila, but it works. Having his tongue stirring both inside your mouth is purely delicious. You swirl with him, gently, taking your time to get used to a new flavored cocktail that probably already exists somewhere. But this one is special, cause it has you and him putting that extra ingredient.

He was right, you realize. He's grown to be a better kisser than in that old memory that's been torturing you for years. You have to keep your mind out of that night. This is a different time, different day, and two different people that have nothing to do with those old versions of themselves.

As the kiss grows tiredly eager, you both start panting for air between the sloppy movement of your lips locked together. He parts momentarily to guide you toward the couch. He sits down, pulling you down to straddle his lap.

His palms land on your hips while you take the reins again and seize his mouth at once, wanting to swallow every single drop of that magical drink called Michael Berzatto. Your fingers curl around his neck, capturing his taut muscles bulging out at the hot rush coursing through his veins. His hands become anxious, greedy for more of you. They slip under the hem of your shirt at the back to feel the warmth of your skin.

There's a thread of anticipation weaving inside your body, sending your hips to grind over his denim bulge, making him sigh with groan when you hit the right spot. You do it again, and again, until you feel him growing between two layers of annoying denim.

The dirty work of your mouth becomes too wild to tame. Even for you. You've managed to hold yourself in the past when you needed to, but this time you're not sure that you want to hold back.

Michael's fingers fumble under your shirt to open the clasp of your bra. After a coup of tries, you feel the tight elastic decompress from your skin as one of his hands travels to the front to feel your breasts.

“Is this okay?” he mumbles into the frenzy of your tongue.

“Hm, yeah, that’s fucking perfect.” Your breathing catches as his knuckles softly brush the underside of your boob.

He's rock hard by the time his paw extends fully to mold one of your boobs to the shape of his fingers. Your nipple shrinks into a hard pebble under his firm touch. He thoroughly massages your flesh before switching to the other side.

You pull away from his lips to glance down at his hand enjoying its time in the valley of your chest. He seems either quite taken with it, or perhaps he's afraid of moving forward without your approval.

You clear your throat before suggesting. “Do you think we should move this party to the bedroom?”

“Yeah, I'd like that.”

You peel yourself off him to stand up and then follow him into his room. Before doing anything else, you pull up your phone from your pocket and place it on the nightstand to make sure you can find it fast in case it rings.

Michael moods the lights to just one on the night table with a soft glow of yellow and watches you taking off your clothes for a beat before mirroring you.

It's surprising how your nerves don't even present a threat at this moment, but you're not going to question or overthink right now why you're so damn calm when you lay almost naked on his bed.

You leave your panties on and prop yourself on your elbows watching him like prey as he slips off his shirt and jeans. His chiseled body is something to admire. You can tell he's been working out. Maybe to smooth that edge the drugs gave him. He was already a pretty athletic guy back then but didn't have the same defined shapes that now sculpture his body like a Greek marble statue.

Biting your lip you glance further down to see him push down his boxers to uncover his generous erection. You can't help but admire your own work, swelled to a nice shade of deep pink and pointing up to his abdomen between the grooves of Apollo’s belt.

Your knees push together, feeling your arousal pooling in your folds when he turns around to show you his buttocks. With his back on sight, he collects something from a dresser drawer.

There's a condom in his hand when he faces you again.

“You good down there, sweetheart?” he asks, his eyes casting a dark shade from above, adding more gusto to the overly sexual charge blowing off the charts before even touching each other's naked bodies.

“Uh-hm. Could I just first…” Before he can wrap his dick in latex, you extend your hand to feel his full hardness in your palm. You wait for him to nod and give you permission to curl your fingers around it to feel it throb and ache for more friction.

It's as unexpected for you as it is for him to have you openly telling him what you want to do. If there’s something you've learned from all your past mistakes is that sex is better when you can communicate what you want. Even if it's just a one time thing, it's better to keep an open line between you two. As much as you’d want him to jump on top of you and rearrange your insides, the build up is more gratifying to you than just getting things done as fast as possible. The buzz lasts even longer. And if this is a one time thing, you sure want to remember every second of how being with him felt.

Michael puts one knee on the edge of the bed and observes your kind hand sliding down his shaft. His eyes become glossy. A gulp moves his throat up and down as he swallows a grunt when you tighten your hold around him and press down tighter, coaxing a nice wet drop to spill out of his tip.

Licking his lips, he puts his hand around your wrist to stop you before you go too far. He wants to come. But he wants to do it with you tightly wrapped around him.

He removes the wrapper of the prophylactic and rolls it on.

When she realizes you still have your underwear on, he slides them down your legs carefully, as if he was unwrapping the finest china. He notices the faint scar left on your lower abdomen from your c-section and as Michael climbs on top of you, he leaves a trail of kisses from that scar up to your neck.

As his head is closer, you hook a finger on the gold chain hanging around his neck, pulling his face down to seize his lips. At the same time, he parts your knees to nestle in between.

Adjusting your position, you lay back on the mattress with him following your cue and letting your tongue invite itself past his teeth to keep savoring everything he has to offer as your hips fit together. When his cock presses against your clit you can’t help but jolt and grind against its solid hardness. The thin layer of latex collects your dampness as you do. You grip his sides as he uses the advantage of being on top of you to kiss you back with a burning ache that sets your core in fire the longer you rub against the other.

“How does it feel, sweetheart?” His voice tenses in his throat. “You like it like that, huh.”

“Yeah, it feels so fucking good.” But you can’t bear that thought for longer than that. You need him inside pushing past your entrance, stretching your walls to the shape of his erection.

“Fuck me,” you moan before sucking his lip into your mouth.

His hand snakes down your torso to taste with his finger the arousal covering your sex.

“God you’re so wet, sweetheart,” he purrs, probing a finger before smoothly burying himself inside you.

Your eyes shine behind a layer of gloss that wells up at the corners as he pushes a couple of times carefully until you get used to his size molding the shape of your walls.

After a few experimental thrusts, he lowers his body on top of yours, letting his weight do all the work as he gradually moves faster.

“You’re gonna make me come,” he pants over your lips, feeling the tight grip of your pussy contracting every time his cock pushes deeper inside.

“That’s the idea,” you wink at him as your palms slide down his back to grab his ass.

You keep eye contact with him and stay quiet as the only sound that fills the room is your skin meeting over and over until your moans seep in. You watch his forehead and neck quickly get covered in sweat beads. He takes a deep breath before letting his grunts join the symphony. His forehead falls on top of yours, as the rhythm of his thrust picks up. His muscles strain under your palms that go back up to hold tightly to his sides the closer he drives you to the edge. Your nails dig on his ribs pushing him thrust his hips even sharper. You can feel him throb and jerk inside you as he exerts his body for your pleasure. It’s easy to tell he wants to come desperately, but he holds and holds his release for you until you reach that point.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” there’s an edge of urgency in his breathless voice as he tucks one hand underneath to rub your clit and get you to come faster.

“I… almost… fuck,” you try to word something out, but you’re so close you can only cling to his sides as your body aches for a release.

The tears collecting in your ears trickle down your cheeks when you close your eyes at that very crucial point when your orgasm reaches the highest peak. The powerful force makes your body shake like a damn earthquake, leaving your core in shambles. One of his hands holds your trembling thigh, feeling its vibrations on his palm until it passes. At that point, he cannot longer hold his own, and the squeeze of your opening around his pulsating erection just makes him spill everything into the condom. His teeth are clenched on your neck, printing a loud grunt on your skin as he comes undone. Your pussy still contracts around him up until the final drop is ejected.

That sweet orgasm slowly ebbs, but the buzz in your head lingers for longer than that. He lazily stays on top of you for a minute until he can finally push himself off you.

Painting together, you stare at the ceiling as the breeze slipping in from the open window cools your body.

“That was…”

“Yeah.” He scoffs, half glancing at you with a giddy smile.

You don't really need to give it a word. You both know how amazing that was. It’s safe to say that this is how it was supposed to be. If you had gotten your way the first time around, it probably wouldn't have been nearly as good. And now you don't have to wonder anymore or feel ashamed for leaving cause this night definitely overwrites that fiasco.

When your breathing evens out, you both turn to your side and face each other to bask in the afterglow plastered on your faces. One of his hands slips across your jaw, as his thumb caresses your cheek when you place your head on the pillow.

Your face heats up as he leans closer to place a tender kiss on your sweaty temple. As his hand slides down your warm body, he watches it draw the curves of your body as one of his fingers sticks out around your hips to draw the scar he saw before peaking just over your pubic hair. You let him do it for a second before you put a palm over it. Then, he slips his fingers between your legs to seize the mess he’s made out of you. Your juices still cling to your skin when his fingers start circling around your clit.

“Can I make you come again?”

“Please,” you let out a half laugh and push your knee higher to make room for his wandering fingers that explore all over your pussy. His eyes stay fixed on yours as he easily takes you to have a quick orgasm. It’s not as explosive, but it’s a nice aftershock that leaves your body melting into the mattress.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Middle Man: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: You're called to Indiana where a woman goes missing. Maybe it's something about this case or maybe it's all in your head, but you can't help the feeling like something isn't right. On the upside, Rossi is throwing a Halloween party, and you can't wait to be with everyone and celebrate Spencer's favorite holiday with him.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

You, Derek, and Spencer head to Ernstrom College to see if he's there. Since the fall semester has already started or is just about to start, he might be here. It doesn't take a long time to find out that he's not in his dorm, and he's not answering his phone when you call.

"Hotch, he's not in the dorms and he's not answering his phone," Derek says when he calls Hotch.

He puts him on speakerphone so that you and Spencer can hear it.

"You know, if Salters inflicts physical punishment on Chris, then it's highly unlikely he's the Alpha of the group."

"No, based on what we know, Chris wouldn't be the dominant nor would he have the confidence to lead. If the dominant protected Chris, he'd have his unwavering loyalty."

"Sheriff, when Chris started Ernstrom, was there an upperclassman who befriended him or who he looked up to? Did he join a Fraternity? Did he play on a sports team?" Hotch asks Jeff.

"He didn't do this."

"Garcia, anything?"

"I'm searching, sir."

"He was on the track team," Jeff sighs, "and joined Kappa lota Phi."

"That's what we've been missing. Garcia, expand your previous Louisiana search to former Ernstrom students who fit our offender profile," you say.

"Narrowing... Narrowing... Ah-ha. Michael Kosina of Louisiana. He was kicked out of Kappa Iota Phi after questionable sexual conduct with a student in 2004. The charges were dropped, but the incident earned the fraternity probation from its national chapter."

"Michael Kosina? I met him. He caused Chris' bar fight. He did this to my son?" Jeff asks angrily.

"Were Kosina and Chris at Ernstrom at the same time?" Hotch asks, ignoring the sheriff.

"Yeah. Chris was a freshman when he was a senior. Michael dropped out a few weeks later after he got into an altercation with one of his professors."

"This type of dominant would definitely have issues with authority. Tell me you got an address, baby girl," Derek says.

"En route as we flirt, baby."

"Morgan, wait until Sheriff Salters arrives. He might be able to talk to Chris," Hotch says.

"Alright, but if that doesn't work, Y/N could be our best shot."

You nod when Derek looks at you.

"True. The pack objectifies women. They wouldn't know how to handle negotiating with one. Y/N, can you do this?"

"Yes, sir."

Once the address comes through, you, Derek and Spencer, and Jeff Salters head over to Michael's house which is likely where Michael and Chris are at. Just as you get out of the car, Michael, Chris, and Stephanie walk out. Her wrists are tied, she has a blindfold over her eyes, and she is terrified but she doesn't look too badly injured. You're not sure if she has been sexually abused which you hope she hasn't. Michael pulls her close and puts a gun to her head while Chris aims a gun at your team.

"Hey! Chris Salters! Michael Kosina! FBI. Give yourselves up!" Derek yells.

"We want to negotiate!" Mike says.

"The time for that is over, son," Jeff says.

"Oh, I wish I was your son, Sheriff. It wouldn't be my ribs getting bruised," Mike glares.

"Christopher, walk this way and we'll work it out."

"Don't you get it? He's done taking orders from you!"

"Sorry, Dad. I can't."

"Y/N, go."

You step out in front of the cars and show your weapon so that they know you're not going to use it on them.

"Michael, Chris, my name is Y/N. I'm holstering my weapon. I just want to talk."

"That's what they all say," Mike glares.

"That's quite a feat, manipulating a cop's son into committing rape and murder."

"Shouldn't we be talking about how your fine ass is gonna get us out of here?" he smirks.

"You wish. Look around. Everyone's guns are trained on you. Not Chris. You. No one wants to shoot a cop's kid, but you? I might shoot you myself."

"You call yourself a negotiator?"

You turn to Chris who looks like he's on the fence about this.

"Chris, I know you're loyal to Michael. I get it. He was there for you when you thought nobody else was."

"Nobody was," he almost cries.

"That might be true, but you need to understand that Michael's done this before. He had another group he ran with but it didn't work out. He came here and started over and sooner or later, he's gonna kill you and move on."

"Don't listen to this bitch!" Mike yells. "She's trying to get us to surrender. We should rush them now!"

"You don't want to do that, Chris, do you? That's suicide, for you. Michael doesn't care. He was gonna kill you the moment things got tough, anyway. Just like he killed his last team."

"What is she talking about?" Chris asks, looking at his friend.

"Two men went missing following a series of rapes in Northern Louisiana. What do you think happened to them?"

"Is that true? Were you gonna kill me, too?" Chris whimpers.

"What do you mean, too? I didn't kill Scott. You did."

"You said it was to protect us."

"Us, me, it's all the same. It doesn't matter, anyway. We're not getting out of here, either one of us. I need to know you're with me. To the end." Chris doesn't say anything. "Well?"

Chris takes too long to answer so Mike moves his gun from Stephanie to Chris. Everyone shoots at Mike until he falls to the ground, and you gab Stephanie so she's not hit. Chris grows angry at seeing his dead friend on the ground.

"What did you do?!"

He waves his gun around and you pull Stephanie to the side. 

"Put it down! Put it down!" Derek yells.

"It's over, Christopher. It's over," Jeff says.

"I am not going to jail!"

"We'll get you a good lawyer. We'll figure out a way to get your sentence reduced."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Dad? A chance to play hero. Too late! You don't get to win this one, too."

Chris turns the gun on himself but Jeff shoots his son in the arm. The shock is enough to send him to the ground in pain.

"Medic, we need a medic," Spencer says through the earcomm.

Jeff walks over to Chris who moans in pain.

"I had to, son."

"You're going to be okay, Stephanie."

"I want to see my daughter," she cries. "I want my daughter."

"You will get to see her. You need to go to the hospital and she'll meet you there. You're going to be okay."

The weekend comes faster than you realize, and you and Spencer pull up to Rossi's house with candy in hand. You're excited to show off your homemade Jack and Sally costume that you two put together. It took a lot of sewing and body paint to make yourselves look this good. You know Rossi has a lot of money but you never knew he would own a mansion.

"Wow, this house is incredible," you gasp as you walk up the porch steps.

"Well, he's old and rich. May as well put money into a house."

"Makes sense," you giggle.

Rossi answers the door wearing clothes from the 1920s. You're shocked he actually dressed up even though you're having a hard time placing him.

"You dressed up!"

"Penelope made me."

"Who are you supposed to be?"

"Al Capone."

"Of course," you giggle.

Everyone else is inside drinking and chatting away, and JJ smiles widely when she sees you. She is dressed up as Jessie, Will as Woody, and Henry as Buzz Lightyear all from Toy Story. Penelope is dressed as Cruella DeVille. Derek is dressed as Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean. Hotch isn't dressed up but his son is dressed up in a suit that looks like it's too big for him.

"JJ! It's so good to see you!" You pull her in for a hug, making sure not to get your makeup on her skin. "It's been so long."

"We saw each other last weekend," she giggles. "Let me see it!" She takes your left hand and admires the ring. "God, this is gorgeous. You're gonna make a great wife."

"Thanks," you grin. "I miss you at work."

"I miss all of you guys."

Jack walks over and grins up at you and Spencer.

"Hi, Jack, what are you supposed to be?"

"I'm Daddy!"

"Well, your daddy is a great man."

"I know."

"Thanks," Hotch smiles.

You and Spencer split off so that you can talk to your girls while Spencer talks to Derek.

"Can I help with the wedding? Oh, my God, it's gonna be so amazing. Two of my best friends are getting married!"

"Of course, you can help with the wedding. Though, I do have something to ask all of you. First, JJ," you turn to her, "would you like to be my Maid of Honor?"

"Really? You want me?" she smiles.

"Of course. You're my best friend."

"Yes, I'd love to be your Maid of Honor."

"Emily, Penelope, I'd like for you to be my bridesmaids. You all can help on the wedding and I want all three of you up there with me."

"Yes!" Penelope squeals and pulls you in for a hug. "Don't you worry about a thing. I can plan it all."

"I know," you chuckle, but your smile falls short.

"What's wrong?" JJ asks.

"I'm just worried, I guess."

"About what?"

"My parents. I don't know how my dad will feel about me marrying Spencer."

"Does he know about it?"

"No. I haven't told them yet. I don't know how they'll react. My dad doesn't really like Spencer."

"I'm sure they'll be thrilled. All parents love their children's wedding days."

You're not so sure about this one. The party lasted a few hours before people started to leave. JJ, Will, and Henry leave with Jack and Hotch to get candy in the neighborhood while the rest head home. You walk into your apartment and kick off your heels, glad to give your aching feet a break.

"You get to take all of this down."

"Alright," Spencer chuckles.

"I'm going to wash all this makeup and paint off me. I'd be a shame if I showered alone."

It takes Spencer exactly five seconds to process your words before rushing after you.

Frank clenches and unclenches his hands in and out of fists, resisting the urge to go over to your place. Even when you're not at your apartment, he has eyes and ears everywhere. He has connections in every state and people in every state who are willing to do anything he says. Some willingly and some forcefully. He needs you to understand that he's done playing and he's coming for you.

By the time he actually does, you won't see him coming. You'll feel him but you won't see him. 

Clarissa isn't doing too well back home while Frank is out, but he doesn't care. He needs to focus all of his time on you which is why he asked Rob to look after Clarissa and the kids. Clarissa doesn't seem to understand his obsession with you, and it's not his job to make her understand. He took one look at you and knew that he wanted you all to himself. He was strict at first, not allowing anyone else near you, but then he got more relaxed the more you grew up. He knew you'd never want to leave him.

Until now.

"Please, Frank. You said you put up cameras, right? Just come home and monitor her from here," Clarissa begs. "I don't like Rob."

"If I hear one more word come out of your goddamn mouth about Rob, I'm going to call him and tell him he can do whatever he likes to you. Got it?"

Clarissa is silent for an entire minute.

"Got it," she whispers.

"Rob is getting shit done. Stay out of his way."

"Okay."

Frank hangs up on his wife before she can say anything else. He switches the camera to the one in the bathroom and smirks when he sees you and Spencer having steamy shower sex, and how much he wishes it was him there instead.

"Without heroes, we are all plain people and don't know how far we can go." - Bernard Malamud

x

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[charliedawn]

Hi Charlie, I like your fanfics. I wanted to ask you how the slashers react to a reader who has two blue macaws as pets (something like Blu and Jewel from the Rio movie and that they speak and the slashers can hear it) I already forgot that I asked you this before jsjsjsjs if you don't have a problem

(Here you go. Hope you’ll like it. 👍)

Freddy Krueger:

Blue macaws who can talk, dance AND sing ?! Count Freddy in for a dance contest. He’s got dance moves to show.

Freddy: "B*tches ! Get off the dance floor ! Freddy in the place !"

Jason Voorhees:

Jason would be surprised at first. However, he would be happy to see birds dancing and singing. But if they asked him to dance ? Oh boy. That boy has absolutely no clue how to dance or sing.

Pennywise and Penny:

Those two are great dancers. The best. They tend to outshine anyone else on the dance floor. Plus, they could turn themselves into birds and chill with the other macaws.

The Sinclair Brothers:

I’ll let you guess who is whom. Bo is the greatest dancer hands down. He wanted to attract the ladies when he was younger and knew that dancing would be a good way to make them swoon. But his sort of dancing is…suggestive. 😅

Patrick Bateman:

The gif is self-explanatory. He would join in and do his little murder steps.

He could get curious about how macaws taste though.

Would probably try cooking them for dinner. Plenty of protein in those.

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahm ‘Born For The Dancefloor’ Brahms.

That man knows how to dance and isn’t afraid to steal the spotlight. If there is something that stayed from his many private lessons during his childhood is his dance skills.

Plus, macaws singing and dancing and talking ? Brahms would love it. It would make him feel like a Disney princess.

Norman Bates:

Norman is old-fashioned, but he would enjoy having a little party and dance with the singing birds. He would even join in on the singing. He used to participate in church choirs in his youth.

Michael Myers:

He would be suspicious at first.

Macaws who sing and dance ? Really ?

But after he realises that they are not a threat, he would learn to appreciate them in his own way. He unfortunately cannot sing or dance since he never learned how, but he would happily look at everyone else having fun and enjoying themselves.