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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 month ago

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Private-sector Trumpism

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in CHICAGO with PETER SAGAL on WEDNESDAY (Apr 2), and in BLOOMINGTON on FRIDAY (Apr 4). More tour dates here.

Trumpism is a mixture of grievance, surveillance, and pettiness: "I will never forgive your mockery, I have records of you doing it, and I will punish you and everyone who associates with you for it." Think of how he's going after the (cowardly) BigLaw firms:

https://abovethelaw.com/2025/03/skadden-makes-100-million-settlement-with-trump-in-pro-bono-payola/

Trump is the realization of decades of warning about ubiquitous private and public surveillance – that someday, all of this surveillance would be turned to the systematic dismantling of human rights and punishing of dissent.

23 years ago, I was staying in London with some friends, scouting for a flat to live in. After at day in town, I came back and we ordered a curry and had a nice chat. I mentioned how discomfited I'd been by all the CCTV cameras that had sprouted at the front of every private building, to say nothing of all the public cameras installed by local councils and the police. My friend dismissed this as a kind of American, hyper-individualistic privacy purism, explaining that these cameras were there for public safety – to catch flytippers, vandals, muggers, boy racers tearing unsafely through the streets. My fear about having my face captured by all these cameras was little more than superstitious dread. It's not like they were capturing my soul.

Now, I knew that my friend had recently marched in one of the massive demonstrations against Bush and Blair's illegal invasion plans for Iraq. "Look," I said, "you marched in the street to stand up and be counted. But even so, how would you have felt if – as a condition of protesting – you were forced to first record your identity in a government record-book?" My friend had signed petitions, he'd marched in the street, but even so, he had to admit that there would be some kind of chilling effect if your identity had to be captured as a condition of participating in public political events.

Trump has divided the country into two groups of people: "citizens" (who are sometimes only semi-citizens) and immigrants (who have no rights):

https://crookedtimber.org/2025/03/29/trumps-war-on-immigrants-is-the-cancellation-of-free-society/#fn-53926-1

Trump has asserted that he can arrest and deport immigrants (and some semi-citizens) for saying things he doesn't like, or even liking social media posts he disapproves of. He's argued that he can condemn people to life in an offshore slave-labor camp if he doesn't like their tattoos. It is tyranny, built on ubiquitous surveillance, fueled by spite and grievance.

One of Trumpism's most important tenets is that private institutions should have the legal right to discriminate against minorities that he doesn't like. For example, he's trying to end the CFPB's enforcement action against Townstone, a mortgage broker that practiced rampant racial discrimination:

https://prospect.org/justice/2025-03-28-trump-scrambles-pardon-corporate-criminals-townstone-boeing-cfpb/

By contrast, Trump abhors the idea that private institutions should be allowed to discriminate against the people he likes, hence his holy war against "DEI":

https://www.cnbc.com/2025/03/29/trump-administration-warns-european-companies-to-comply-with-anti-dei-order.html

This is the crux of Wilhoit's Law, an important and true definition of "conservativism":

Conservatism consists of exactly one proposition, to wit: There must be in-groups whom the law protectes but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect.

https://crookedtimber.org/2018/03/21/liberals-against-progressives/#comment-729288

Wilhoit's definition is an important way of framing how conservatives view the role of the state. But there's another definition I like, one that's more about how we relate to one-another, which I heard from Steven Brust: "Ask, 'What's more important: human rights or property rights?' Anyone who answers 'property rights are human rights' is a conservative."

Thus the idea that a mortgage broker or an employer or a banker or a landlord should be able to discriminate against you because of the color of your skin, your sexual orientation, your gender, or your beliefs. If "property rights are human rights," then the human right not to rent to a same-sex couple is co-equal with the couple's human right to shelter.

The property rights/human rights distinction isn't just a way to cleave right from left – it's also a way to distinguish the left from liberals. Liberals will tell you that 'it's not censorship if it's done privately' – on the grounds that private property owners have the absolute right to decide which speech they will or won't permit. Charitably, we can say that some of these people are simply drawing a false equivalence between "violating the First Amendment" and "censorship":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/04/yes-its-censorship/

But while private censorship is often less consequential than state censorship, that isn't always true, and even when it is, that doesn't mean that private censorship poses no danger to free expression.

Consider a thought experiment in which a restaurant chain called "No Politics At the Dinner Table Cafe" buys up every eatery in town, and then maintains its monopoly by sewing up exclusive deals with local food producers, and then expands into babershops, taxis and workplace cafeterias, enforcing a rule in all these spaces that bans discussions of politics:

https://locusmag.com/2020/01/cory-doctorow-inaction-is-a-form-of-action/

Here we see how monopoly, combined with property rights, creates a system of censorship that is every bit as consequential as a government rule. And if all of those facilities were to add AI-backed cameras and mics that automatically monitored all our conversations for forbidden political speech, then surveillance would complete the package, yielding private censorship that is effectively indistinguishable from government censorship – with the main difference being that the First Amendment permits the former and prohibits the latter.

The fear that private wealth could lead to a system of private rule has been in America since its founding, when Thomas Jefferson tried (unsuccessfully) to put a ban on monopolies into the US Constitution. A century later, Senator John Sherman wrote the Sherman Act, the first antitrust bill, defending it on the Senate floor by saying:

If we would not submit to an emperor we should not submit to an autocrat of trade.

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/20/we-should-not-endure-a-king/

40 years ago, neoliberal economists ended America's century-long war on monopolies, declaring monopolies to be "efficient" and convincing Carter, then Reagan, then all their successors (except Biden) to encourage monopolies to form. The US government all but totally suspended enforcement of its antitrust laws, permitting anticompetitive mergers, predatory pricing, and illegal price discrimination. In so doing, they transformed America into a monopolist's playground, where versions of the No Politics At the Dinner Table Cafe have conquered every sector of our economy:

https://www.openmarketsinstitute.org/learn/monopoly-by-the-numbers

This is especially true of our speech forums – the vast online platforms that have become the primary means by which we engage in politics, civics, family life, and more. These platforms are able to decide who may speak, what they may say, and what we may hear:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

These platforms are optimized for mass surveillance, and, when coupled with private sector facial recognition databases, it is now possible to realize the nightmare scenario I mooted in London 23 years ago. As you move through both the virtual and physical world, you can be identified, your political speech can be attributed to you, and it can be used as a basis for discrimination against you:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/20/steal-your-face/#hoan-ton-that

This is how things work at the US border, of course, where border guards are turning away academics for having anti-Trump views:

https://www.nytimes.com/2025/03/20/world/europe/us-france-scientist-entry-trump-messages.html

It's not just borders, though. Large, private enterprises own large swathes of our world. They have the unlimited property right to exclude people from their properties. And they can spy on us as much as they want, because it's not just antitrust law that withered over the past four decades, it's also privacy law. The last consumer privacy law Congress bestirred itself to pass was 1988's "Video Privacy Protection Act," which bans video-store clerks from disclosing your VHS rentals. The failure to act on privacy – like the failure to act on monopoly – has created a vacuum that has been filled up with private power. Today, it's normal for your every action – every utterance, every movement, every purchase – to be captured, stored, combined, analyzed, and, of course sold.

With vast property holdings, total property rights, and no privacy law, companies have become the autocrats of trade, able to regulate our speech and association in ways that can no longer be readily distinguished state conduct that is at least theoretically prohibited by the First Amendment.

Take Madison Square Garden, a corporate octopus that owns theaters, venues and sport stadiums and teams around the country. The company is notoriously vindictive, thanks to a spate of incidents in which the company used facial recognition cameras to bar anyone who worked at a law-firm that was suing the company from entering any of its premises:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/12/22/nyregion/madison-square-garden-facial-recognition.html

This practice was upheld by the courts, on the grounds that the property rights of MSG trumped the human rights of random low-level personnel at giant law firms where one lawyer out of thousands happened to be suing the company:

https://www.nbcnewyork.com/news/local/madison-square-gardens-ban-on-lawyers-suing-them-can-remain-in-place-court-rules/4194985/

Take your kid's Girl Scout troop on an outing to Radio City Music Hall? Sure, just quit your job and go work for another firm.

But that was just for starters. Now, MSG has started combing social media to identify random individuals who have criticized the company, and has added their faces to the database of people who can't enter their premises. For example, a New Yorker named Frank Miller has been banned for life from all MSG properties because, 20 years ago, he designed a t-shirt making fun of MSG CEO James Dolan:

https://www.theverge.com/news/637228/madison-square-garden-james-dolan-facial-recognition-fan-ban

This is private-sector Trumpism, and it's just getting started.

Take hotels: the entire hotel industry has collapsed into two gigachains: Marriott and Hilton. Both companies are notoriously bad employers and at constant war with their unions (and with nonunion employees hoping to unionize in the face of flagrant, illegal union-busting). If you post criticism online of both hotel chains for hiring scabs, say, and they add you to a facial recognition blocklist, will you be able to get a hotel room?

After more than a decade of Uber and Lyft's illegal predatory pricing, many cities have lost their private taxi fleets and massively disinvested in their public transit. If Uber and Lyft start compiling dossiers of online critics, could you lose the ability to get from anywhere to anywhere, in dozens of cities?

Private equity has rolled up pet groomers, funeral parlors, and dialysis centers. What happens if the PE barons running those massive conglomerates decide to exclude their critics from any business in their portfolio? How would it feel to be shut out of your mother's funeral because you shit-talked the CEO of Foundation Partners Group?

https://kffhealthnews.org/news/article/funeral-homes-private-equity-death-care/

More to the point: once this stuff starts happening, who will dare to criticize corporate criminals online, where their speech can be captured and used against them, by private-sector Trumps armed with facial recognition and the absurd notion that property rights aren't just human rights – they're the ultimate human rights?

The old fears of Thomas Jefferson and John Sherman have come to pass. We live among autocrats of trade, and don't even pretend the Constitution controls what these private sector governments can do to us.

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/2025/03/31/madison-square-garden/#autocrats-of-trade

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #monopoly #monopolies #monopolism #madison square gardens #autocrats of trade #facial recognition #property rights #human rights #property rights vs human rights

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concretejunglefm · 11 days ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐘𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐘... the purge au

This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge. May God be with you all.

Summary: On Purge Night, the most dreaded night of the year, you find yourself among the unfortunate majority stuck facing the night alone, with the task of survival.

Pairing: BO + Matt Dierkes x f!reader (referred to as bunny)

THIS IS A FIC CONTAINS DARK THEMES PLEASE CHECK TRIGGER WARNINGS.

CW: heavy trigger warnings for stalking, harassment, assault, violence, blood, guns, fear play, gun play (simulated oral by reader), dubcon, manhandling, murder (minor character), mask kink kinda (?), threats of violence (to reader), boot on neck (to reader), makeshift shiv, choking (to reader), hair pulling, face slapping, coercion. DEAD DOVE.

WC: 3.8k.

AN: usual taglist has not been applied due to trigger warnings, only those who have explicitly expressed being tagged have been. should you wish to be tagged in part 2 please lmk 💕

NSFW below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

TWO HOURS UNTIL THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE ANNUAL PURGE.

As the clock struck five, the entire city began to wind down. Local businesses had been boarded up, while people scrambled to either prepare for the upcoming Purge night, ensuring their safety, or gear up to participate in the event itself.

Realistically, you should have been home by now. You shouldn’t be at work, standing behind a counter, waiting for the next customer to arrive. You should be at home, preparing to lock yourself in and stay safe as you can for the next 12 hours.

Instead, you’re here because of a boss who doesn’t care about your safety, that alone makes you think about joining in on the purge.

As the bell above the door chimes, four men enter the store, parting ways as three of them slowly browse the aisles.

The tallest of the four approaches you at the counter, dropping a few random items he’s picked up from the shelf below: candy, a piece of gum, some batteries, and a lighter.

None of these items seem to belong together.

“Having a good night?” he leans against the counter, resting one arm on it while his eyes briefly dart to your name tag before returning to your face. “Bunny?” It’s not your name, nor is it even remotely similar to what’s written on your name tag, but you manage to suppress a grimace and resist the urge to roll your eyes. After all, your boss had warned you about being polite.

“As good as anyone could be having.” You try to stay composed, focusing on scanning the items he laid out before you.

“Are you planning to purge tonight?” he asks.

When your eyes briefly flicker up, you catch a familiar look in his—the same everyone seems to have today. Something sinister glints back at you, and you shake your head. “It’s not really my thing.”

"And what is your thing?"

You catch him attempting to meet your gaze and deliberately avoid it, clearing your throat as you stand tall with your back straight and shoulders squared. “That’ll be seven dollars and sixty-nine cents.” You won’t let a group of strange men intimidate you just hours before Purge night.

He casually drops a twenty-dollar bill on the counter and swiftly scoops up his items with a single large tattooed hand. “Keep the change,” he says.

You watch them all walking towards the door, exiting one by one. The youngest looking of them lets out a high-pitched laugh—similar to that of a hyena's—before leaving. Just as the tallest of them reaches the door, he stops, glancing back at you. “Have a nice night, Bunny.”

It’s only when the door closes that you release a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Your body trembles as the pounding in your chest intensifies. Something about them didn’t instill confidence in you that their visit was friendly or that they didn’t have some ulterior motive.

You’re tempted to leave early. How would your boss know if you simply slipped away before the end of the workday?

He always knew, thanks to the stupid CCTV camera he installed as a mere deterrent rather than a genuine means of monitoring his staffs safety.

Turning to face the camera, you raise your hand and flip it off, staring directly into its lens. The arrogant man believes he can have you working on Purge Night of all nights and expect you to remain silent. Perhaps it’s not productive, but it does provide a sense of relief to unleash even the slightest bit of anger towards him.

No more customers enter the store before closing. Not only are most of the pedestrians who are still out rushing home before the siren, but you also flipped the sign and locked the door after the group of men left, feeling unnerved. Had it been any other day, you wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but something about them made you feel uneasy, and you could only hope you made it home without crossing their path again.

As the sun sinks below the horizon, a noticeable change occurs in the air—it becomes denser and heavier, as if even the wind is aware of the significance of this evening.

You keep your head down and your pace brisk, but each step through the alleyway feels eerily loud, as if it betrays your location. Some streets are now almost deserted, yet in the distance, you hear the throngs of people preparing for tonight. It’s the quiet before the chaos.

You curse under your breath for considering the shortcut worthwhile.

Then, you hear it—laughter. Not the joyful kind, it’s jagged and mean, echoing off the brick walls around you like a snarl. And when you glance over your shoulder, you catch a glimpse of them, the group of men from earlier. Four silhouettes stroll leisurely, as if they have nowhere to be—because they don’t. Not until the siren wails.

The first person to approach you, Folio, wears a grotesque purge mask shaped like a rabid dog. Foam drips from the fangs in twisted detail. He throws his head back and howls, the sound echoing off the buildings and making your skin crawl.

“Puppy’s off the leash,” one of them jokes. A fifth person, Matt, follows behind them. His voice is calm and almost amused. That relaxed tone, somehow more terrifying than if he’d shouted.

“I think our boy has found himself a new chew toy,” Jolly, the second tallest, murmurs with a smile in his voice, the others chuckling darkly.

Noah stands at the center of the group, unmasked like the other, but his expression is far more unsettling—because it’s completely devoid of any emotion. There’s no anger, no joy, no genuine feeling on his face at all. Instead, he appears to be in a state of calm emptiness, as if he’s already mentally transported to another place.

“Not long now,” Nicholas says, raising his wrist to check the watch strapped to it. “Eighteen minutes.”

They begin to encroach upon you, their presence palpable yet restrained, but still causes your breath to catch in your throat.

“You should be home, sweetheart,” Matt says, speaking in a low, sweet voice. “It’s dangerous out here.”

“I’m trying,” you say, trying to sound braver than you feel. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Funny how that works,” Noah murmurs, eyes fixed on you. “Some things are just… meant to happen.”

A moment of silence passes. Then, Jolly raises a gloved hand and gradually points at you, as if he’s calling dibs. “She’s scared,” he notes. “I like that.”

Folio’s howl echoes through the air, and they step closer. Instinctively, you retreat, only to find yourself cornered against a wall. Escape seems impossible, yet there are still eighteen minutes to go.

You can’t recall when the siren’s piercing wail first shattered the silence.

Perhaps it was just after Nicholas checked his watch once more, or maybe it was while Folio’s howl echoed through the night, growing louder with each passing moment. Or perhaps it was when Matt leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear, whispering something you strained to hear amidst the pounding of your heart.

Regardless, at some point, the air was torn apart by that haunting melody, and the world around you descended into anarchy.

It all happened so fast after that. Hands grabbed you, lifted you, dragged you. You kicked, screamed, clawed—yet it felt like battling shadows. They didn’t strike you immediately; instead, they simply overwhelmed you. It was like a wolf pack playfully tormenting its prey.

And disturbingly, beneath the panic, something stirred deep in your core—an involuntary shiver of adrenaline-fueled heat that had no place in this moment. You hated it, resented it… but the fear wasn’t just fear. It curled around something darker, something you didn’t dare name.

And then you were back at the store.

The place looks the same—except it doesn’t. The harsh fluorescent lights flicker to life overhead, casting an unsettling glow on the half-stocked aisles from your closing shift. But there’s something different now. It’s not just a physical coldness; it’s an emotional chill that seeps into your bones. It feels wrong.

Folio casually locks the front door behind them, as if this is just another ordinary night. Meanwhile, Matt drops a duffel bag that you hadn’t noticed before, unzipping it to reveal rope, duct tape, and other things you don't want to stare at for too long.

And then, you spot him. Your boss, lying on the floor in the back corner, bruised, bloody, and gagged. His eyes widen and plead as soon as he sees you.

You blink in shock. “W–what is this?”

“This,” Noah says, stepping behind you and resting his hands on your shoulders, “is closure.”

Your jaw trembles. “I—I don’t—”

“You remember how he made you stay late?” he says, voice soft and low by your ear. “Didn’t care that the purge was starting—.”

Your attempt to pull away from his grip on your shoulders abruptly interrupts him, causing his fingers to dig deeper and locate the pressure point that makes your body sag slightly as you lean into him with a brief, audible ‘ah’ of pain escaping your lips.

“Now, now, Bunny,” he murmurs, his grip firm and unwavering, refusing to let go of you. He forces your body hard against the tile, pressing his boot against your neck—not enough to cut off your breath, but enough to freeze you in terror. “Where do you think you’re headed?”

The pressure makes your pulse spike, causing your body to freeze beneath him—partly due to fear, partly from the strange, forbidden heat that prickles beneath your skin. You detest it, this quiet hum of submission intertwined with panic, but your body doesn’t seem to care about what’s right or safe. It just reacts.

“It’s your choice, bunny; will he live or will he die?” The harsh pressure of Noah’s boot against your neck keeps you pinned to the cool tile floor, your eyes brimming with tears as you stare directly into the eyes of your boss, the man who was more than willing to risk your life on Purge night for his own financial gain.

“Tick-tock,” Jolly chimes, reminding you that their time is limited tonight, and even less for your decision.

“Come on, I’m getting bored,” Folio grumbles, taking another swig from the bottle of beer he’s retrieved from the shelf.

Behind his gag, your boss begs and pleads for his life, but you’re frozen, your mind buzzing with thoughts that prevent you from speaking. Even when you open your mouth, no words come out; instead, a high shriek escapes as you hear the ringing sound of a gunshot and witness the splash of blood that explodes from the side of his head, staining the floor and walls with a dark crimson hue.

As Noah releases you from beneath his boot, your body starts shaking. Tears well up in your eyes, and you let out choked sounds as you begin to heave. Turning away, you drag yourself across the floor, trying to escape from them.

Even as you bury your face in your arms to let out your sobs, you can hear them laughing—Folio’s hyena laugh piercing through the loudest.

You lift your hands, covering your ears, desperately praying that this nightmare will end.

Up until now, it had all been a game. They had been taunting you, and no one had gotten hurt, not really. You even began to feel guilty for the stirrings it caused within you—a twisted sense of thrill. But they hadn’t killed anyone, not in front of you, not until now.

Suddenly, you’re acutely aware of your own mortality and their ability to dispose of you by the end of the night.

Is that their intended plan for you?

After you stop sobbing and heaving over the mess in front of you, you pull yourself to a corner, drawing your knees up to your chest as you try to calm yourself down.

Fortunately, they mostly leave you alone.

Nicholas approaches you a few times, offering you water. Each time his cool grey eyes meet yours, you swear you detect a hint of compassion. It seems almost foolish to believe, considering what you’ve already witnessed from them tonight.

The second time he approaches you, you don’t flinch this time. Instead, you choose to be brave and confront him with a stern glare. “I need to use the bathroom,” you murmur, your voice barely audible.

“What?” he asks, prompting you to repeat yourself even louder this time.

“I’ll take her,” Noah offers, appearing behind Nicholas. Your eyes briefly flicker up to him, and your heart races.

“No,” Nicholas dismisses him. “Folio can take her.”

He calls for Folio as Noah reaches down to grasp your arm and pull you up to your feet. It’s as if you’re a rabbit, being passed between the pack, each waiting its turn to take you between their jaw and devour you.

“Yeah?” Folio calls back, cocking his head.

When Nicholas announces that he’s the one on bathroom duty, a slight smug grin spreads across his lips. He reaches out to pull you away from Noah’s grasp and guides you towards the back of the store, where the customer bathroom is located. With a smirk in his voice, he calls back to them. “Don’t worry—I’ll bring her back in one piece, probably.”

As you enter, he pushes you towards the cubicle and as you attempt to close it, he abruptly slams his palm against it. “Nu-uh, you leave it open.”

“I’m not going to pee with you watching!” You huff, crossing your arms in defiance, his piercing gaze meeting yours before he relents.

“Alright, I’ll turn away, but you leave that door open.” He commands, and you watch him remove the hyena mask he had previously worn, which now rests atop his head. He places it back over his face before turning around, implying that you now have privacy.

With his back turned to you, you catch a fleeting glimpse of the sheath of a hunting knife hanging from his belt. For a moment, you ponder whether you actually have the time to sneak up behind him and seize it. You’re not foolish enough to think you’d have the strength to do so, but with the adrenaline coursing through your veins—

“Everything alright back there? Sounds pretty quiet.” Folio interrupts your thoughts, and you shuffle backward, dropping onto the toilet seat as if you were actually about to pee.

“I can’t say that I'm comfortable peeing in front of someone.”

Even though the muffled sound of the mask obscures it, you can still hear that hyena laugh. “Aw, Bunny’s shy?” he coos mockingly. “Trust me, sweetheart—you’ll get used to an audience.”

While he’s busy talking and mocking you, you discreetly slip your hand down your top and start fiddling with the edge of your bra. You push and twist it against the metal tip of the underwire inside, feeling it pierce through.

Your fingers tremble as you slowly pull the metal wire out, your eyes fixed on the back of Folio, hoping he won’t turn around. Finally, you manage to free it, twisting the metal until it snaps.

You hold your breath, silently praying that Folio didn’t hear the sound.

Unfortunately for you, he’s the kind of hunter who catches even the faintest of sounds. His head snaps around and turns back in your direction. “What do you think you’re doing?” At that very moment, he lunges at you.

Holding up the now jagged metal fragments from your underwire, you retaliate with the intention of piercing them through the eye holes of his mask.

You hear a cry, and he stumbles backward, growling as his chest heaves. “Fucking bitch.” You gasp as he reaches for you, his hand instinctively coming up to your throat and closing around it.

There’s that familiar sensation again—a surge of heat in your stomach, accompanied by guilt and shame. You know you shouldn’t be feeling this way right now, especially not as his hand tightens its grip around your throat.

He pulls you towards the sink, bending you against it and forcing you to look at the reflection of both of you in the mirror as he stands behind you, pinning you against the porcelain.

When he removes his mask, you notice where you managed to catch him with the metal wire—the scratches along the bridge of his nose and one near his eye. Although it wasn’t precise, it was enough to ambush him.

“You’re going to pay for that,” he growls against your ear as his hand tightens around your throat. You feel his body pressed against your back, and you want to scold yourself for the strange sense of excitement coursing through you.

At that moment, the bathroom door swings open, and you manage to catch a mere glimpse of Noah out of the corner of your eye. “What’s going on in here?” He calls out to you both, his tone laced with annoyance.

“This,” Folio holds up a piece of the metal underwire you had attacked him with. You hadn’t realized that amidst the commotion, he had snatched it from your grasp, before pinning you against the sink.

Noah holds the wire between his fingers, observing it with a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Little bunny thinks she’s sly, doesn’t she?”

You can hear your heart pounding in your ears, drowning out the conversation between them. Suddenly, Folio releases his grip before you feel large, rough hands on you. They pull at your clothes, giving you a rough ‘pat down’.

You’re too preoccupied trying to regain your breath now that Folio has released his grip, to resist, even though you feel Noah unhooking your bra through the fabric of your shirt and pulling it out, tossing it aside.

“Since you no longer have any potential weapons, let’s return to the party, shall we?” Noah grasps your scalp, tangling his long fingers in your hair, and drags you out from the bathroom, back into the main area of the store.

When you scan the area, you can no longer see the limp body of your former boss. You assume they disposed of him somewhere, somehow. But all those thoughts are pushed from your mind the moment you’re pushed down onto your knees. The hard tile floor bruises you down to the bone, making you whimper.

“She was being a spoilsport,” Noah explains, your eyes briefly darting up as you notice them all gathering around you. His fingers start to gently caress your scalp, a stark contrast to the rough manner in which he had previously handled you. “Why won’t you play with us, Bunny?” He coos down at you, tilting your head back just enough to rest against his leg as he gazes down at you.

“Perhaps we should play a different game,” Nicholas declares, drawing out a gun and briefly holding it up for you to see before lowering it towards you.

You tightly close your eyes, bracing yourself to hear another shot, just like the one earlier, before feeling the cool metal of the gun press against your lips.

Opening your eyes, they widen in surprise as you meet his cool grey gaze. “Russian roulette,” he declares, pressing the gun against your lips as a cue for you to open your mouth.

Unbeknownst to you, the gun they had used earlier was switched out with a fake one. Still, the fear in your eyes is genuine, and your heart pounds in your chest. What’s even worse is the ache you feel growing between your thighs.

When you part your lips, you observe his features widening in delight as your tongue slides out and around the gun’s barrel, enabling him to press it further to your mouth while his finger moves away from the trigger. “Just like that…” he murmurs, and your eyes dart around, capturing the excitement in their gazes as you begin to imitate the act of sucking a cock onto the barrel of a gun.

It shouldn’t excite you as much as it does, despite their shared approving glances and the praise they shower you with. Yet, you can’t deny the feeling, even letting out a genuine moan as you lick the cool metal. Noah’s fingers constantly stroke your scalp, practically preening over the sight of you. Jolly utters words of appreciation in what you can only guess is Swedish. Folio doesn’t even try to conceal his own excitement, as he palms himself through the front of his jeans. When you dare to look at Matt, there’s a whole new level of appreciation he gazes down at you with, making your stomach flip as if you’ve somehow earned their approval through this twisted ritual.

When Nicholas pulls back the gun, Noah loosens his grip enough for your head to hang forward, causing you to gasp and try to regain control of your senses. Before you can react, Nicholas leans down and meets you face-to-face. “That’s a good little pet.”

Instead of accepting the praise, you feel an overwhelming urge to retort, “You’re animals.” You hiss.

It’s as if he takes a moment to process your words, stretching his lazy smirk slowly. “If we are then, why are you wet right now?”

Your eyes widen in embarrassment and realization at his observation being right. You can already feel the fabric of your underwear clinging to you, and the heat between your thighs is palpable.

Instead of reacting in a way they would anticipate—you being compliant, you gather saliva in your mouth and spit it directly into his face.

The reaction is immediate, a sharp blow to your cheek that sends a jolt of pain through your body. Your head whips around, crashing against Noah’s leg, his fingers still clinging to your hair, preventing you from flying further due to the force of the slap.

You brace yourself for the pain of another blow before Matt’s voice pierces through the chaos. “That’s enough now. We can’t have her too beaten up, or they won’t take her, will they?”

At this revelation, your eyes widen in confusion, trying to comprehend Matt’s reference to ‘they’. You’ve heard rumors about the deals that are made on Purge night, but you’ve never experienced being in the thick of it. Usually, you’d be safely tucked away in your own home, but tonight, they’re determined to drag you out into the chaos and carnage.

“W-who are you talking about?” You look up between them all, waiting for an answer, but your question is ignored. They only exchange knowing smirks and Folio mumbles a hyena giggle, clearly delighted by whatever plan they’ve set in motion for tonight.

Finally, Noah speaks, lifting you from the floor and grasping your neck tightly and possessively, sending shivers down your spine. “You’ll see, Bunny. The night is just beginning.” He purrs, guiding you and the rest of the group towards the store’s back. Exiting through the fire door, you find yourselves in an alleyway where a car awaits you.

Tagged: @fadingangelwisp @fadingintothegrey @astronoids @floodflameschosen @bloody-spades @kissestomyomens @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @whatismylifexox @lacy1986 @1toreyouapart @malice-ov-mercy

#bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nick folio fanfiction #jolly karlsson fanfiction #matt dierkes fanfiction #bad omens fic #bad omens au #the purge au #tw: death #tw: violence #tw: murder #tw: stalking #tw: gun play #tw: dubcon #tw: dead dove #concretejunglefm fics

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gilverrwrites · 1 year ago

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Hi can you please do 12 no underwear? For more human!Cas? I was thinking maybe their out in public ands the reader is wearing a short skirt fo something and Cas gets all turned on and wound up or something like that idk only if you want to. THANK YOU

Take Me Home

Pairing: Human!Castiel/Fem!Reader (Season 9)

Rating: M/18+

I guess this is an unofficial installment of the 'If you will have me, I am yours' series. GN!Pronouns used, but reader does have AFAB anatomy.

Please remember: to always lift with your legs. (The actions performed in the below fic are performed by fictional characters!)

Words: 885

Content: Semi-public foreplay, semi-public nudity, teasing Cas, Cas teasing you, dirty talk, size difference.

Excerpt: “No underwear?” He whispers. “Is that for my enjoyment?” “Who else?” You giggle, wiggling your ass back until it rubs against Cas’s crotch. The hiss that escapes his lips only fueling your fire.

“Okay!” You huff, depositing your armful of sundries into the cart Cas was nonchalantly following you around the store with for your late-night grocery shop. “What next?”

“Ummmm.” You stare at his lips as he purses them while examining your communal shopping list. “Rice.”

“Rice, yes!” You confirm before hurrying over to the next aisle, occasionally turning back to make sure Cas was close behind you. When you spot the 5kg bag of rice on the bottom shelf, you take a moment to sheepishly look up and down the aisle, confirming the two of you are alone and there are no CCTV cameras nearby. With one last glance to check Cas is looking, you bend straight over at the waist, you feel the short fabric of your dress rise straight over your naked ass. The cold air, the feeling of being exposed, of knowing Castiel was watching made your skin tingle, and you were hyperaware of how wet you were already becoming.

Rice obtained you slowly stand up straight, when you’re sure you can feel your dress has settled enough to cover your lower body you turn back to the cart. When you look up at Castiel he’s stock-still, brows furrowed, lips pursed, and cheeks pink.

“What’s wrong?” You ask as you place the rice in the cart.

He stares at you a moment longer before deadpanning; “Nothing.”

You’re unable to hide the confusion that briefly overcomes your face. You’re only halfway to composing a response when Cas changes the subject by pointing at the shelves behind you. “Can you obtain one of those?”

You follow his gesture to a box of vegetable stock on the very top shelf. You’re pretty sure that even in your highest heels you couldn’t reach that, at least not without climbing. Regardless, you defiantly nod your head at him and make your way over. Again, you verify your surroundings before extending onto the tips of your toes and stretching your body upwards. Sure enough, the hem of your dress rides up again, not exposing much, but enough that anyone looking would know you were naked underneath.

You’re reaching for the stock for no longer than a few seconds before you feel the familiar touch of Castiel’s calloused fingers on your hip. His warm breath tickles the shell of your ear as he leans closer.

“No underwear?” He whispers. “Is that for my enjoyment?”

“Who else?” You giggle, wiggling your ass back until it rubs against Cas’s crotch. The hiss that escapes his lips only fueling your fire.

Combating you, he pushes his groin against you further, grinding his clothed erection between your ass-cheeks. It’s your turn to let out an unexpected groan.

“The store is almost empty.” He muses, and you shiver as his free hand gently finds its way to the front of your dress. He rests his chin on your shoulder and watches his own fingers as he plays with the hem. “I could lift your dress right now. I am doubtful that anyone would notice.”

“We could do that.” You concur, certain that your pussy must be dripping by now. If he decided to do it, you probably wouldn’t stop him. “But, we’ll have to be real quiet, and fast.”

Castiel’s rutting slows, and you enjoy the feel of his chest rising and falling against your back as he seems to consider your concerns.

“You have no idea how much I want you right now.” He states and your legs tremble when you feel him bypass your dress, and roughly run a finger between your folds, briefly caressing your clit before delving down to your entrance. He withholds his fingers from plunging in, pressing just hard enough to work you open, without the pleasure of feeling him inside you. “But if I take you home, I can make love to you all night, and you can make those noises that turn me on. I do love the noises you make.”

You’re enjoying his words, you really are, but all you can really think about right now is his

fingers. How close they are, how full they’ll make you feel. You’re trying to gain just a little more height, to move just a little bit forward, so you can sink yourself onto him. Just when you think you’ve found it Cas pulls his hand away, grabbing the box of vegetable stock from above you and adding it to the cart.

You spin around, flushed, dress still hiked above your ass, ready to object but Cas is already at the end of the aisle. You hurry after him, straightening your outfit as you go.

“Where are you going?”

“To the check-outs. Then home.” He informs you as you catch up with him.

“Did we get everything on the list?” You ask.

“Close enough. I will purchase any items we missed after work tomorrow.” He’s barely looking at you, eyes scanning every spot in the store. Undoubtedly figuring out the fastest way out.

“Wow, you really wanna take me home fast huh? Can’t wait to get me out of this dress.” You tease, snaking your arms around one of his.

“Actually…” He finally stops and looks down at you. Face still flushed, his eyes appraise you, lingering on your upper thighs. “I would prefer you to keep it on.”

#castiel fic #castiel reader insert #castiel x reader #supernatural fic #supernatural imagine #supernatural reader insert #human castiel/reader #season 8 castiel #gilverrwrites

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jrow · 11 months ago

Text

May Prompts (20)

Day 19 here. Start at the beginning here.

Do Over

“Perhaps you need a …. I believe the colloquial term is do over.”

He pulls the mobile away from his ear. “Please don’t try to talk like a normal person ever again,” he says forcefully into the receiver. He returns the mobile to his ear and says, more quietly. “It’s off-putting.”

His brother sighs. “Yes that was unpleasant for me too. But the advice stands, brother mine. This isn’t some grand mystery for you to solve.”

“Mycroft, I assure you I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Your guilt is getting tedious, Sherlock. And you are far more transparent than you think. You obviously omitted some information in your recounting about the night John fell. me. It’s surely trivial but it’s bothering you so just tell John.”

He says nothing, unsure of how to respond. He hates when Mycroft is right. He walks back down the hall to John’s room and looks in the window. John is sleeping. He looks so peaceful. “I don’t want John to be mad at me,” he says, unsure of why he feels the need to be honest with his brother of all people.

He can hear Mycroft’s eye roll. “That seems unlikely, under the circumstances. And even if it were a probable outcome, Sherlock, delay is hardly an effective tactic. John will remember whatever it is you aren’t telling him.” A pause. “Dr. Watson has always been much more … let’s say hurt … by subterfuge than anything else. A lie by omission is still a lie.”

“He might not remember.”

“We both know that is unlikely. And, in terms of his recovery, not what you want.”

Arg! Why does it brother have to be right?

… And why is the constable guarding John’s room intently watching Sherlock’s half of this conversation? The man’s recently acquired (and atrocious) bleach blonde hair certainly shows a clear lack of judgment.

“Don’t you have something better to do? Your job perhaps,” he snaps at the constable before turning his back on him. It’s not entirely fair because the man’s job is, basically, just to stand there as it seems the constant presence of police has been enough to deter any further intruders. That and the rather Orwellian number of highly visible CCTV cameras that Mycroft had installed.

He hears Mycroft sigh on the other end of the line. “Go talk to John, Sherlock, and put us all out of our misery.” A pause. “But first, put him on. I need to speak with him.”

“John’s sleeping,” he snaps, “and I won’t be waking him to speak to the likes of you. He’s already having enough trouble keeping food down.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Mycroft mutters. “Sod it. I have a message … give him my condolences. I heard his old friend Robert Larkin died. Fentanyl. Terrible thing. I know old Robbie had been planning on visiting but … well he got tied up, I suppose.”

“I’ll pass on the message,” he says, fingers itching to start looking up everything on this Robert Larkin. Mycroft is not all that great at subtlety.

There is silence for a moment before his brother speaks again. “Sherlock, John is safe. Rosie is safe. Let yourself enjoy it.”

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @quimerasyutopias @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty

#johnlock #wip #may prompts 2024

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kissesandarsenic · 6 months ago

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I asked my girlfriend how many people she'd had sex with and didn't like the answer. In fact I hated it. I couldn't deal with it to the extent that I ended up sedating her every night and retiring to my little room where I watch monitor screens of the multiple CCTV cameras installed in her bedroom to ensure she never has sex with anyone but me ever again.

One night we get burgled and five men in balaclavas break in, gag and tie me to my chair making me witness the ensuing events.

They have rough sex with her and I have to watch the pleasure in her face as she finally gets what she's dreamt of after all these years. My panic and fear turn to arousal. I see glimpses of her through all the thrusting bodies. Her dimpled cheeks, her eyes rolling back.

I have to ask for trick in the hope for a plot twist as this is so awful for me.

I'm insecure about the size of my penis. Go to town on this if you like, I'm currently caged for Locktober.

Rape is a hard limit (obviously) but cnc and somno would be excellent! Maybe it was inside job and she texted the security alarm code to an ex lover?

You don’t know what hurts worse, the ropes digging into your naked flesh slowly cutting off the circulation or the looks of raw pleasure on your girlfriend's face as she's fucked from behind while another man sucks on her clit from below.

Or maybe it's the way your little cock is straining against the bars of it's cage at the sight in front of you. It might be breaking your heart but it's also turning you on like nothing ever has before.

The balaclavas have been torn away at this point and you recognise the faces of her five ex lovers. Of course you know who they are. You did the research before you bought the security system. Before you decided it was okay to drug your girlfriend into compliance. She must have had a hand in this. There's no way these men could have gotten in on their own.

But your girlfriend is past the point of coherency, can't answer your pathetic cries. She's had two loads fucked into her and a third on the way and you, her darling boyfriend, have drugged her out of her mind. This is exactly what you deserve, and everyone in this room knows it.

'I bought this for her,' a dark haired ex says, pulling out a large hitatchi wand. 'She told me you bitched about her using toys. Said it emasculated you.'

'Jesus,' a heavily tattooed ex says with an eye roll. He nods down at your caged cock. 'You expected her to cum just from that fucking thing?'

Shame curdles like milk in your gut. You try and squirm back as the one with the toy approaches you. But the bonds hold firm. He plugs the toy in and turns it on. The sound is almost enough to drown out the wet slaps of your girlfriend being ruthlessly fucked.

'She doesn't need this,' the ex says. 'But you're sitting here aching. So I have a proposition. I strap this to your thigh while the rest of us fuck our pretty girl dumb. If you manage to not spurt in that cage of yours, we'll call this a once off and never darken your doorstep again.'

'But if you do...' the tattooed ex says.

He grins wide, eyes sliding lazily over to your girlfriend and dancing with mirth. You swallow hard. Twisting and straining to get away from the approaching toy.

'Colour, baby?' your girlfriend calls out.

The scene pauses, everyone looking to you. Warmth bubbles up in your chest at the concern in her eyes. Despite the awful feelings bludgeoning you before, you find yourself smiling.

'Green,' you say and choke on a gasp as the toy is pressed taut against your caged cock.

Trick or Treat Ask Game! Send in a fantasy with a "Trick" or "Treat" attached and I'll elaborate on it!

#cuckcold #cuckholding #gangb4ng #intox kink #cnc free use #cnc drugging #chasity #trick or treat #trick asks #loretta replies

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beardedmrbean · 1 month ago

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A megachurch pastor faces jail for stalking a female congregation member after being caught twice breaking into her home on CCTV.

Marie Columna, 43, said she’s “still afraid” of Sergio Guardia, 49, a minister at the renowned Thomas Road Baptist Church in Lynchburg, Virginia.

Guardia was convicted by a jury last week on two counts of burglary and one count of stalking, according to Lynchburg Circuit Court and faces up to ten years in jail.

The megachurch in Lynchburg — founded by Jerry Falwell Sr. and affiliated with Liberty University — is one of the most celebrated Baptist churches in the country and is affiliated with the scandal-hit Southern Baptist Convention.

Marie, 43, a service coordinator for early intervention said she reported Guardia’s increasingly bizarre behavior before leaving the church in 2016 — but “nothing was ever done about it”.

The Lynchburg woman is speaking out about the 2023 break-ins, caught on security camera footage.

“I was out of state with my children visiting a friend, and I got a notification on my phone that a person was in my house,” Marie recalled.

The footage, captured at 11:30 p.m. on November 10, revealed Guardia walking through the door and creeping around the kitchen.

“Every light was off, and he was using the flashlight on his phone. It was very clear that he knew exactly where he was – that he had been in my house before.”

Guardia, wearing sweatshirt and jeans, appeared to notice the camera and ran away.

Marie, who had installed security cameras about a month before, due to a series of neighborhood break-ins, said she called police the next morning.

“I was coming back Sunday, so we agreed I’d call the officer when I returned home, and we’d do the report,” she recalled. “I wanted to press charges.”

The next night, while still out of town, Marie received another alert — this time showing Guardia entering her backyard.

The camera feed revealed Guardia entering through the basement — into her daughter’s bedroom.

“The entire basement is my daughter’s bedroom, which is like a den,” she explained.

Marie, who has a 17-year-old daughter and 15-year-old son, was in shock.

“He got in the same way the night before,” she said.

“My daughter has left that door unlocked before, and her friends use it to come over. The key is easy to find, right when you walk in, on a shelf at eye level.”

Police later confirmed there was no sign of forced entry, leaving Marie with a strong suspicion.

“Either the door was unlocked or he had a key.”

Fearing for her safety, Marie called police again.

“I reported that I was having a break-in, and it was Sergio Guardia, and he was currently in my house.”

Officers arrived, guns drawn, and searched every inch of the house, including bedrooms, closets, and even kitchen cabinets.

They also sent in a dog to search the property, but he wasn’t found.

“They searched the yard and the neighbor’s yards,” Marie explained.

When the police showed Marie a photo of Guardia, the connection was immediate.

“There was no question it was him. Within two hours of that break-in, Sergio was charged and arrested,” she said. “I never thought he’d be breaking into my house.”

Marie, who had a longstanding history with Guardia, described their initial friendship as close.

She first met him when she got married in 2007 and attended his Spanish-language church service at Thomas Road Baptist Church.

After separating from her husband in 2011, Guardia and his wife encouraged her to return to the church, promising support. But Guardia’s behavior soon became unusual, she said.

“He was supportive of me being separated from my husband, but he was telling me that I shouldn’t be talking to men after church or in the church,” she recalled.

“He saw how many male friends I had on Facebook and told me to delete and block them.”

After finalizing her divorce in 2015, she said Guardia’s behavior left her more worried.

“He started showing up at my house with groceries, but only when my kids weren’t home. I never asked for help, but he would come anyway,” she explained.

“He began visiting randomly, and even when I told him I wasn’t comfortable, he continued coming.”

She says Guardia’s visits escalated.

“At times, I would pull up to my house, and he was already on my steps. It felt like there was no way of getting away from him,” she said.

The situation reached a breaking point when Guardia allegedly confessed his feelings for her.

“He told me he was in love with me and wanted a relationship. I said I didn’t even want him at my house, let alone a relationship. I told him not to come back, but he did.”

She moved multiple times in an attempt to get away from Guardia.

However, she says Guardia managed to find her each time, even showing up uninvited.

“I came home in the middle of the day and found him in my living room on my laptop.

“When I confronted him, he gaslit me, saying he wasn’t doing anything wrong and acted excited to see me,” she recalled.

“He wouldn’t leave until I picked up my phone and said I was calling the police.”

Despite these encounters, she never reported him at the time due to fear of his influence.

“He’s not just a pastor, he’s a pastor at Thomas Road Baptist Church, a powerful and wealthy church. I didn’t believe I had any power against him, especially with no evidence,” she explained.

She eventually moved to her current home, but in the years leading up to the break-ins, she noticed suspicious activity on her online accounts.

“I started getting notifications that a new device had logged into my Yahoo email. When I checked the IP addresses, they were linked to Liberty University,” she said.

Marie later discovered that a Liberty email address was listed as a recovery option on her account, which she believed allowed Guardia to access her information.

Once she removed it, the login attempts stopped.

After years without direct contact, Marie was shocked to see Guardia on her security camera footage.

“I never imagined he would go this far,” she said. “Because he’s had no prior convictions, they gave him a $5,000 bond.

“I think he only spent four days in jail, and he’s been out ever since.”

With a pre-sentencing hearing scheduled for August 20, Marie remains fearful despite a protective order in place against the disgraced pastor.

“I don’t think he cares about anything,” she said.

Guardia, Marie says, is being backed by top administration at the church. Executive pastor Matt Wilmington was a witness of character for Guardia at the bond hearing when she testified.

She shared hope that her story would reach Guardia’s blind supporters, emphasizing the significance of the jury’s decision.

“I want them to hear my story, especially the fact that the jury found him guilty on all three counts, and that he’s now considered a felon,” she said.

“I want them to be scared. I want them to feel the same fear that anyone should have when facing the consequences of criminal activity.

“It’s typically women and children who are affected, and I believe it’s incredibly rare for those responsible to be held accountable.”

The Thomas Road Baptist Church did not immediately respond to request for comment.

#nunyas news #your first mistake was going to a church #that's associated with #jerry falwell #in any way shape or form

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readysetjo · 3 months ago

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Helena watching Helly’s video of her kissing Mark from 2 new/ different angles makes me wonder how many angles they typically shoot at simultaneously or if they try to get a genuine perspective of a security camera by installing actual cctv cameras (but quality of course)

#me being me #severance

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blizzardfluffykpop · 1 year ago

Text

Scaredy-cats

Summary: Trying to branch out of your comfort zone, you try a haunted house installation in the middle of March.

Oneshot

Fluff, Meet-Cute, Non-idol au

Trigger Warnings: It is a haunted house, so it has light/minor horror themes.

Word Count: 2,056

Jacob X Reader

[A/n: As @jinkoh said; we watched Wings of Escape together and well, here’s another addition of that brainrot we experienced there. To check out jinkoh’s addition(s) to it you can find ‘em on kebbi’s blog 🥰]

------

This year, you were determined to try things outside of your comfort zone. So when they announced a haunted house installation in March at an old youth hostel near you, you were all for it because “It’s just a haunted house. How bad can it be?” You were confident that it definitely couldn’t be spooky because it was becoming spring, daffodils were starting to bloom, and the outside ambiance would make for a non-scary experience. But what you underestimated was that it still was a haunted house. It wasn’t the outside that mattered. It was the actors and ambiance inside that did.

---Pov Switch---

Jacob had applied for countless jobs and finally heard back on a security job. He was getting desperate, and anything would do for rent money at this point. So when he walked in, he wasn’t sure what the position entirely entailed until the person said, "You're aware this is for a security position watching live CCTV footage at a haunted house?" He nearly threw up, but considering it was also his last option, and that he was running low on funds, he could do it, right? "Yeah, that's fine." He should have never agreed to this. Although, he’s met all the scarers and has been friends with them long before this installation began. He still refuses to enter the ‘scarer floor’ after they decorated it, or he’d feel his stomach tie in knots.

Even driving to work made his stomach turn. His guts twist every time he puts his car in park. All he ever wants to do when he walks up to the building is turn ducktail and run to his car. But that’s money on the line he can’t risk. He goes down the basement steps, unlocks the door, and gets inside, quickly turning on the lights and locking it behind him. He sighed in relief before checking everything over, inspecting all the cameras to see if they were working correctly. Before turning his two-way radio on and going, “Good afternoon!” He hears ten friendly voices greet him back. And he asks, “Anyone on the floor? Or are you all getting ready?” Getting various answers of; “Getting ready.” “Waiting.” “Snacking.” He laughs, “Any good snacks?” “Gummies, you want some?” “Hell yeah.” A few minutes later, a knock rings through the door. He peeks through the peephole and sees Kevin, “You’re not in costume. That’s nice.” “Don’t need you sick.” He puts out his hand, “Gummies?” Kevin hands him the pack, and he asks, “Everyone’s doing the same routine as usual, right?” Kevin nods, “Yeah, as always. Hopefully, no dates go awry this time.” Jacob laughs, “It was cute to see Younghoon take them around, though. It was much more pleasant to watch than your gorey scenes~.” Kevin rolls his eyes, “All I do is chop jello.” Which makes Jacob shiver, “It doesn’t read the same on the CCTV. It really looks like guts.” Kevin shakes his head at him, “Later?” He nods, “Yeah, later.”

He eats his gummies, looking over the main control panel as the ‘night’ starts at the hotel. “Overhead lights off in 3… 2… 1… Stage lights on!” There are little cheers before they get into character, and he refuses to look up, only listening to his two-way radio and hearing the random songs Haknyeon performs every time Haknyeon turns on his radio, “Spooky scary plumbers~” Which makes Jacob tune in and cackle over the radio. He looks at his designated camera and sees him singing his heart out into the plunger. Jacob shakes his head and carries on playing on his phone. He looks up occasionally, assuring no one is actually getting murdered there. And he laughs as he watches a couple cowering behind Younghoon as if that would help their case. Younghoon, as if on cue, turns around with a sinister grin, effectively spooking them. Which makes his nerves stand on end at the motion. He shakes it off and goes back to his phone.

And that’s how he spends the majority of his shift until he hears a door slam over the two-way radio someone’s turned on. He looks up to see Juyeon and Younghoon staring at it curiously. When Juyeon goes over the two-way, “Jacob… Uh… Someone just ran right into the utility closet and locked the door. We can’t help them out. I think Younghoon terrified them too much.” Younghoon scoffs, “I did not!” Juyeon continues, “Sure. Anyways, you’re the only one who has keys…” Jacob couldn’t believe his ears. This was the first time the crew didn’t have the situation under control. And of course, because he refused to do a floor check when the decorations were finally up, a door was left unlocked.

With haste, he looks at his keys and the panel before deciding to go and get you. And with nerves shooting through him, he goes over the two-way, “You all go to our assigned rooms and stay in there!” Eric calls back, “Where do you want me to go!?” “The other side of the building- I don’t care!” He throws the door open after flipping the overhead lights on and rushes into the building as he searches for the correct key. He refuses to look ahead, only down at the floor, “Fuck! Why are there so many fake mice!” He rushes to the room you’ve locked yourself in, and unlocks it. He tries to push it open as he calls out, “Hey!” Inside the closet he hears you yell back, “Leave me alone!” “I’m not a scare actor!” He hears your mumbles, but you still don’t budge from the door. He sighs, “Please come on... This building scares me so much. I want to be out of here just as much as you do.” You ask softly, “You promise me you’re not wearing scary clothes?” “Promise. I’m wearing a jean jacket with flowers on it if that helps.” You sigh, “Pinky swear?” “Pinky swear.”

---Pov Switch---

You hesitantly lift your weight off the door, and he carefully pushes the door in. You cover your eyes with your hands and peek out of them to see his blue jean jacket with pretty painted flowers on it like he said. No blood in sight. And you whisper, “I don’t… I don’t think I can move.” He gulps, “You want to stay here for a minute with me?” You nod, and he walks in and leans against the door. He mutters, “I hate working here.” Thinking he meant because he had to save scaredy-cats like you, you apologize, “Oh, I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, “Oh, that’s not what I meant!” He looks at you and says, “It’s not your fault! I just get scared easily and like, uh… It’s just not good for a person who doesn’t stomach this well.” You giggle at him and go, “Really? Then why are you working here?” He sighs, “It was my last option left. No one else would hire me.” You shake your head, “Is it good money?” “Not in comparison to being scared shitless every day at work.” You look at him confused, “Why don’t you quit?” “Until I find something else, it makes due. Plus, I've known my coworkers since high school, so it makes it easier.” You shake your head, “Well if it makes due and they’re genuinely nice guys outside of work. I understand.” He nods before asking, “Are you okay to go back out there?” “You can get us through? No scares?” “Yeah, promise, they’re all away.” You hear his two-way radio scratch, “I’m getting bored!!” He rolls his eyes, “Eric, our gardener… He’s a little excitable when it comes to scares. So we better move before he decides to be a meanie.” You agree and he calls back, “We’ll be out in three, no funny business.” “That’s my job, though…” “Eric…” “Fine.” He laughs as he opens the door and looks down.

You follow suit gulping as you exit the doorway with him to see the fake mice, snakes, and spiders on the ground, “Can um… Can you hold my hand?” He nods, waiting for you with his hand out. You quickly grab it and cling to his side. “Not that far, right?” “No, but look down. Mice and snakes are somehow easier to stomach compared to the rest.” You let out an, “Uh-huh.” But your curiosity gets the best of you. You look up and see the amber lights illuminating the spiders and spiderwebs above along with the netting with fake limbs entangled in it dangling down at you. You let out a small, “Yikes!” He laughs, “Told you not to look up.” And you quickly look down with him. Every time the building creaks, you shiver, and he does too. When you see the bottom of the curtain, he says, “Here’s our exit.” He moves the curtain, and the sunlight greets you as he opens the door. You nearly kiss the ground as you mutter countless thank yous.

You don’t let go of his hand even though you’ve made it out. Feeling a sense of comfort with his hand in yours before you ask, “Um… is there any way I can stay with you for a bit until I get my nerve back up to drive?” He nods, “Yeah, that’s fine. I just need to go back to my security room.” “Is it okay if I go with you?” “Yeah.” He leads you along the side of the building and down the stairs. He unlocks the door and leads you in before calling on the two-way radio, “Back to business.” He flicks the overheads off, and you watch as everyone exits their rooms on the cameras. He gestures for you to sit in the spinny chair, “I’m gonna grab the chair from over there.” He points to the corner and lets go of your hand before getting it. He joins you, his knee touching yours under his desk. You watch the CCTV roll, seeing all of the scares live at once, making you feel sick to your stomach again. And he goes, “I wouldn’t watch that if I were you.” You gulp and nod before looking down at your shoes.

He distracts you from it by asking, “So what scared you so bad you ran to the first open door?” “Uh… It sounds silly.” He laughs, “I’m just as much of a scaredy cat as you, so it’s not silly. I promise.” “So uh, the one with the doll face? Yeah… So he was stitching that Frankenstein or something together. And it freaked me out… And when the butler-dude turned away from me to show me to the next room. I made my break for it, thinking it was the exit…” He laughs, and you pout, “I thought you promised it wouldn’t sound silly….” He shakes his hand, trying to hold his laughter back, “No, it’s funny, 'cause I would have done the same thing.” You grin and end up laughing with him. You stay with him his whole shift as he tells you a little about each actor to ease your nerves. “And the doll guy?” “He's a good dancer. But he loves what the two of us would consider scary dolls.” “Oh.” “Yeah, and he calls them cute.” You laugh, “Of course he does. What about you: any weird hobbies?” He shrugs, “Well, it’s not weird, but I like to play guitar and sing.” You smile, “That sounds lovely.” He smiles, “Maybe I could play for you sometime?” You ask, “There’ll be a next time?” “I uh… well, I’d hope so. You seem fun.” You laugh, “You just watched me get trapped in a haunted utility closet.” He laughs, “Yeah, I did.” “But I’d like to hear you play sometime soon.”

You exchange numbers before he turns the overhead lights on and the stage lights off as all the actors head to the basement to change back into their casual attire. You start to leave since you and Jacob already had plans to meet again sometime soon. You figured it was best to get going while the going was good. Until he asks, “Since we both had a scary experience, what do you say to getting some ice cream with me?” You grin, waiting for him to join you, “I’d love to.”

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forsworned · 2 years ago

Text

a mutually arranged attachment. (yoriichi tsugikuni x reader)

warning(s). none

categories. f/m

relationships. modern college student au! yoriichi tsugikuni x f!reader

characters. yoriichi tsugikuni, surprise guest hehehe

author’s note. suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuper short update and i know it's crumbs bc im totally breadcrumbing you rn but i will post soon. im just trying to rehash this whole story and make it make sense you feel me, anyways enjoy the little bone i threw ur way if you want to be included in my taglist for this story lmk!

chapters » one two three four five six seven eight ten eleven twelve

『♡』 chapter thirteen: nothing but crumbs

It had felt like months since you had seen Yoriichi. In reality it had been only a few days since he had departed. Nothing like a good ole cry sesh to really help you regulate your emotions. Contact between the both of you was choppy. Signal where he was at wasn't so great, so he would call you when he could but it seemed to break up quite a lot. That is until he purchased satellite phones for the both of you to communicate through. That had helped put your minds at ease knowing that one another were still alive.

The sound of Yoriichi's sigh made your stomach churn.

"What?"

"I miss you. A lot. I feel like I've broken my promise to you already."

"I miss you, too, but don't say that."

Yoriichi paces around his room. The sound of floorboard creaking beneath him is heard through the phone.

"Stop that."

"Sorry. Habit."

You laugh. "Just sit down. You're making me antsy here."

The line was quiet for a moment. You could tell he was drowning in his own thoughts. "So, how's the team coming along?"

Yoriichi cleared his throat. "It's a little harder than I thought. Ex-Hanafuda are a hana-ful."

You chuckled. "You're corny."

"I know." You could hear the smile in his voice. It made you hold onto the phone even closer as if it would provide any type of proximity to him.

"It's taking a little bit of convinving is all, but I'll be back home before next week. I promise."

You sighed. Yoriichi felt his heart twist with guilt. Partially for leaving you behind and partially for lying.

"Okay."

"You're never out of my sight, you know?" He peered down at the CCTV had installed in your room.

You glanced up at and raised a brow. He smiled as he watched you lay back against his bed and wave. "Yeah, it's kinda creepy to be honest."

"Well, this is the only way I felt comfortable leaving you." He said as he flitted through the other cameras, getting a look around the permitter of your room.

"It's still creepy."

He chuckled as he balanced his phone between his shoulder and skipped back to you. Your eyes drooping and your breathing getting slower. He could tell you were starting to drift off to sleep.

"No doubt. You should sleep. I know it's late over there."

"Wouldn't you know?" You counter rather quickly. "Sorry."

He chuckled at your swiftness. "Sleep."

"'Kay. Night. Miss you." You murmured as you half-heartedly blew a kiss to the camera with closed eyes.

"Good night. Miss you more."

And with that he watched as you hung up the phone and snuggled into his bedsheets wearing the last set of pajamas he had worn before he left. He frowned. Yoriichi's heart ached for you.

"Boss, are we heading out to meet the folks yet?" A head popped out from behind the door.

"Yeah, I'll be there, Haganezuka." His eyes never leaving the screen as he observed the way your chest rose and fell, fast asleep as cute as could be.

"Yoriichi."

He clicked his tongue. "Alright."

He put the monitor down and checked the app on his phone to make sure it was still connected to his home set up. He knew that Koshi was there along with more security guarding you at all times, but he couldn't help but feel worried. He sighed as he padded out the room and began to make his way to the front door.

"So slow. We don't have all day."

Yoriichi ignores Haganezuka as he put on his shoes and meticulously tied his shoe, taking his sweet time. This had only vexed his fellow clan member.

"Are you trying to get on my nerves?"

Yoriichi peeped up at him with a mischevious smile. "Maybe."

The man glanced down at him intently. "Brat."

"Tell me what's on the agenda today."

Haganezuka sighed as he pulled out his small notepad with a small schedule he had written out for the day. Reading out what he had set up for the day as Yoriichi had laced up his boots.

"...and obviously the most important part, meeting with [name's] parents."

Yoriichi's lips formed into a thin line at the mentioning of meeting [name's] parents behind your back. It wasn't like he didn't want to tell you but it would make things less emotional if they had kept you out out of it.

"Don't look so glum. I'm sure her dad will hate you."

"Is that suppose to cheer me up?" Yoriichi sat up to brush of his jeans.

Haganezuka beamed at him. "Nope."

Yoriichi sighed as he opened the door letting the light flood in. A new kind of resolve had coursed through him. He was the one who got you into this mess after all. It was now his turn to make it all worth your while.

taglist: @scoven @stuck-on-writing @salamiwrites @luvkaku @tarquinnie @sulli1361 @heleneou

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