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ruinix · 3 months ago

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recent walk in..sugar daddy quinn mad when he realizes you haven’t been using the black credit card he gave you for expenses

Hello, lovely. Of course, hehe.😏 You did not catch me writing this. I am just a ghost taking over the keyboard. I need to put this out before a new walkin comes out.... (edit not really fully sugar daddy!quinn. But he totally would pay for everything type of boyfriend)

Broken Promise, Broken Cards

TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Spanking (pussy slapping??), Edging, Unprotected sex (protections, lovelies, they’re important), Squirting, Just Quinn being so angry that he became calm and he edges you coz he can.

Count: 3356 -> 3734 words (Edited) | Masterlist | Taglist

You’re sending him pictures of your shopping. One picture after another. One choice after another. Quinn helps you pick when you ask for his opinion. He has no problem answering your texts while he watches a replay of a game. The only problem is that Quinn has yet to receive a notification from any of your purchases.

With that, he can no longer focus on the game. It’s just white noise now while he refreshes his inbox.

Swipe down. Wait. Close the app. Open it. Swipe down.

Over and over again, whenever you send him a new photo of your successful purchase.

None. Not a single fucking one.

He is getting too agitated when he receives a photo of a paper bag of a particular brand of lingerie with your delicate hand holding it. You have your nails done earlier this morning. It’s so pretty with your favorite shade of pink and favorite flower designs. Just like how you described it before you went out. He can’t wait for your hands around him tonight.

‘Focus,’ he reprimands himself.

Shaking his head, focusing on the paper bag instead, locking in the brand, he gives the purchase a few minutes to process—or whatever the fuck—but again, nothing. He stares and stares into the screen, his eyebrows meeting. He remembers having every transaction on that card to be sent over his email too. He set that up long before. So, where the fuck are they?

Are you actually buying things or are you stealing them?

Did you bring cash?

Quinn didn’t give you cash for anything else other than your nails and the tip for its service today. His frustrations build up. He’s so close to calling the bank and making sure that the card is activated. When he receives another message, he takes a moment to calm down—he has to—before opening it.

He immediately gets distracted by how bright you look. You are grinning so much that the corners of your eyes crinkle, a blush flushing your face. Your nails are on full show once more as you hold up the bag next to your face. So beautiful.

After a solid five minutes, he remembers to refresh his inbox. Only then does it dawn at him.

Are you even using the card he gave you? No, that can’t be. You promised him to use that card today. You are definitely using it.

Aren’t you?

One last swipe down to refresh his email. Still nothing.

What the fuck.

You’re definitely not using the card.

Quinn paces. He’s getting angry for you breaking your promise, getting worried because you’re buying a lot of stuff today. More than you usually do. Didn’t you just complain about your depleting savings last night? It’s one of the reasons why he secretly transferred a few hundreds of dollars—exactly three thousand—into your account. He knows that you didn’t notice it, because you would’ve transferred it back to him after you lecture him about it. If it’s not that, did you suddenly replenish it in your own way? He quickly checks the date and confirms that it’s nowhere near payday, so that’s not it.

Where the fuck are you getting your spending money?

He refuses to acknowledge that you might be using your old credit card. The one with a fucking limit.

It can’t be.

There is no fucking way.

Something snaps in his head, pushing him to act. He rushes to your office, powers up your computer, and signs in without a hitch, because you’ve never put a password on it. If you do, he knows about your little notebook of passwords under your desk plant next to your monitor.

He never really goes through your stuff. He is content and trusts you with everything. Everything. He knows exactly how deeply you feel about him as much as he does with you. Although sometimes you hide your phone from him, that’s when you’re texting your friends about him. It’s obvious because you keep snickering while throwing glances at him. He doesn’t mind that. Not at all. You can talk to your other friends about other stuff. The fact still remains. He trusts you.

But, right now, he is losing it. He needs to see. He needs to look into your email. Just this one time. He’ll apologize for it later.

His eyes are locked on the notifications, the receipts, the confirmations. The account number on every single one of them is not the one on the black credit card he has given you. He had it memorized, and it doesn’t fucking match. You are not fucking using it. What the fuck.

An ache forms in his chest. It’s like a horrible backhand that could shake up his teeth, so horrible that he had to run his tongue over them, making a clicking sound to ensure his teeth are still rooted. He crosses his arms. His legs are spread wide as he slouches against the backrest, one leg bobbing up and down. He glares at the screen, trying to will the emails to disappear while he burns them one by one in his mind. He tries a different route to imagine the account number to change, but of course, nothing works.

He rubs a hand over his face. His head pounds at the start of a headache. His phone pings from another message. It sounds like a blaring siren, making his ears ring. After a few moments, a new mail pops up.

This is so much worse than you realizing the deposit in your debit. Because one, you broke your promise. Two, he feels useless. If you were not going to use the card, you could’ve let Quinn accompany you during this shopping spree that would at least appease his soul. But then, he can force his card into the hands of the cashiers. Realization hits him.

That’s exactly why you didn’t let him tag along. You know he’ll talk his way to overtake your payments. Exhaling, a chuckle escapes him. A smirk forms on his face as he gazes up the ceiling. You are such a clever girl, aren’t you?

He’ll give this to you, but you are in so much trouble when you come home.

As if on cue, you text him, “I’m on my way home.”

He turns your computer off, standing up. An eerie calm envelope him. He’s still so angry, yet instead of vibrating and burning outwardly, it settles deep inside his bones until nothing comes up. It’s an odd feeling. It’s not heavy. It’s not light. It just is. A calm before the storm.

He undoes his second top button. If you really want to use your credit card, you can. You’re your own person. Still, you should have kept your promise. Such a bad girl.

He walks back to the living room and sits down on the single seater, reaching the remote to close off every curtain, making his place dimmer and dimmer and dimmer.

Then he waits.

He waits until you come in with your impressive haul. Extremely impressive, because you have your arms full already. When you put them down, you only leave to get more of them until you get a little pile in the living room. It’s amusing how your grin looks so self-satisfied, not realizing that he’s sitting in the corner of the room, until your eyes land on him. Your smile turns sheepish, taking your hands behind you, not daring to come closer.

Truly clever.

“Hi, Quinny. Didn’t see you there.” You wave.

“My Love,” he greets, beckoning you with a finger, but you refuse to come, shaking your head. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to put these away.”

He watches you start with one bag with the little nightgown that looks so fucking sexy. You’re clearly distracting him and it’s working. Slightly. He obliges you, his amusement growing the more you ramble. You’ve enjoyed your shopping trip. You speak at a quicker pace than you usually do. You have a little bounce on your step. Your happy energy radiates from you in waves while you continue taking everything out of bags which you fold right after. He knows you’re aware that he knows. That’s why you’re taking your time.

Quinn’s aware that you are genuinely delighted that you distract yourself more than him.

He’s proud and happy that you enjoyed your day.

Truly.

It doesn’t erase the fact that he has already lost it. The calm that his anger turned is what’s keeping him from pouncing on you, from taking you over his lap and slamming his hand on your bare ass until you got handprints that will bruise and ache for a couple of days. Just like how you want them.

He still can’t believe that you’ve broken him just from breaking your promise.

It’s entirely laughable.

Yet heat streaks down his spine, down his lean abdomen, down to his cock.

He’s so fucking hard.

He stands up, stalking towards you while you’re crouching next to a pile of paper bags. You’re still rambling a pottery workshop you’ve come across. You’re saying that you want to go back there so you can make mugs for each other. When you’ve already successfully built a mug collection in one of his cupboards.

So adorable. So clueless about the danger prowling towards you.

He stops, his shadow looming over you. He counts the seconds, but you still don’t notice him, do you? Then he sees how your hands start to shake. You do. Silly girl.

A chuckle escapes him as he grabs your arm. He swiftly pulls you up then lifts you over his shoulder.

“Quinn!” You squeal, hitting his back a couple of times. “Put me down! You’re making me dizzy—”

You let out a moan when Quinn slaps the tender spot under your ass.

“Quiet,” he orders, making you whimper like the dirty slut you are. “What did you say before you left?”

“Bye?” You sound so confused. “I love you?”

He spanks you on the same spot again, making you moan and whine. Even more when he slips his hand under your skirt, his fingers trail up and up, then he puts you down on the bed. Instantly, you flip over, looking at him like he has taken everything from you. He can already hear your protest that’s sitting on the tip of your tongue. He glares at you, daring you to speak them, but you don’t take the bait. You usually do. Interesting.

“You bought a lot.” Quinn crawls over you.

His hand flattens over your sternum, effortlessly pushing you down.

Your pupils are so blown out when he levels his face with yours, his nose grazing yours, your breath mixing with his. He can smell the gum you chewed on before you arrived, the perfume you’ve sprayed behind your ears. Your eyes fall down his lips and up his eyes again, perfectly seducing him, but he refuses, moving away when you try to kiss him, your tongue darting out to entice him.

Not yet.

“Quinn,” you whine.

“Why’d you do it?” He asks. He kneels up, flipping you over your stomach, pressing a hand on your lower back to keep you from whatever you’re planning which is being a brat.

“I didn’t do anything,” you say with pout, shuddering when he slips his hand into your shirt. He unclasps your bra without exerting an effort, so used to your undergarments. “What are you doing? I haven’t showered yet.”

Quinn doesn’t fucking care if you showered or not. Since when did he care? He doesn’t care even if you come from a workout. He has fucked you like that. Many times. All sweaty and dirty. He already licked your sweat as he plunged deep inside your quivering pussy. You coming from a whole day of shopping is simple play for him. You’re just trying to get out of the inevitable punishment.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he rumbles against your ear. He slides his thick fingers under you so he can touch your tits. So soft. So perfect in his hands. Your nipples are so taut from anticipation and his attention. He pinches the sensitive peaks, your hips coming up to grind against him. He pulls away, receiving an unsatisfied groat. “Uh, uh. Answer me before you get what you want, you dirty slut.”

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp.

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” He grits. He slides down one hand down your abdomen, down into the waistband of your skirt, down until he reaches and feels the wet patch on your panties. He presses and teases along your clothed slit. “See? So fucking wet. I barely touched you.”

“Quinn, please,” you plead, panting for more.

Why are you still not repeating your broken promise?

He’s getting so annoyed. He forces your clothes off, tearing every piece of clothing on your beautiful body. He ignores how much you complain, ignores your little ‘ouch’ because you’re full of shit. There’s no way it’ll hurt when he is tearing the fabric instead of pulling it against your fucking skin. Do you think he’s fucking stupid? Do you think he’ll hurt you that way?

He’s not a fucking rookie.

He keeps you down, spreading your legs by kneeling between them, watching how your pussy drips on the silk sheets, how your entrance quivers, begging to be filled. Languidly, he feels your folds. You feel so fucking good, so fucking soft, so fucking wet.

You gasp and moan like you’re already getting fucked. You’re just so sensitive, aren’t you?

Then he gives you a slap right there. On your dripping pussy. On your clit. His other hand grips your hip to keep you there when you attempt to crawl away, but he gives you another slap. Then another. Another.

You are moaning and writhing from the pain, begging him to stop, when you’re the one pushing your wet cunt against his palm. You keep seeking, even after briefly reeling away from every hit. Your eyes look over your shoulder, meeting his, begging and begging, mentally conveying, “More, more, more.”

Such a good slut.

His slut.

You’re his.

Quinn slides his middle finger into your heat, smirking at how your walls quivers around him. Your cunt is so red from his spanking. His thumb teases your other hole. You writhe, wantonly moaning, pathetically grasping the sheets for support.

You’re not running away now, huh?

Not when he is fingering you. Not when he pounds and puts pressure on that specific spot that has you screaming breathlessly. You want this so much. You’ve been waiting for a relief that he can easily give you.

He adds another finger, thrusting them into your pussy. Harder. Deeper. The squelching noises are music to his ears when it’s coupled with your moans and groans.

Then he feels the familiar pattern of your pussy walls. You’re going to come soon. He knows you so much. Knows your pussy more than you. Knows your little tells like how your thighs quiver, how your toes curl, how your back arches into the bed.

He knows it.

So, it’s so fucking easy to just…pull away.

You look back harshly. You look betrayed as your breaths come out choppy. Disbelief reflects in your eyes, not used to him not letting you come. He always makes you come. Not now though. Quinn takes his fingers from your arousal to his lips and slowly licks them, like he’s feasting on your pussy, groaning at how you taste. Fuck, you’re truly his favorite flavor.

“Quinn, I…” you call, your eyes tearing up. “You didn’t…”

He flips you over your back. He rests your ass over his thighs while your legs are spread out.

“Didn’t?” he mocks which you only process that as a question. You’ve already been dumbed by your pending orgasm, by your need for it.

“I didn’t come,” you whine, jutting your hips up the air, begging for another touch. “Please make me come.”

“Yeah,” he nods. That makes you smile, sighing in relief. Shaking his head, he silently says, “No.”

He doesn’t let you say another thing, plunging his fingers into your pussy. He fucks you fast and deep, thumb swiping over your clit just so perfectly, only to pull away when you’re on the verge of an orgasm.

By the third time, you finally understand what’s happening and you’re begging and begging.

Your pleas don’t reach him though.

They can’t. Not when he’s still not satisfied. Not when you still don’t say anything. However, the strange calmness that locked him is already dissipating the more he makes a mess out of you. The more beautifully and frustrated you cry.

Oh, his poor, sweet Love.

“Quinn, I’m sorry. I just wanna use my card.” You sob. “I’m sorry. Please. Please. I need to come. It’s been an hour.”

An hour?

You’re counting?

He pauses his torture, because you are finally talking.

You cover your face, hiding your fucked out face, hiding your beautifully blushing cheeks, hiding how your hair sticks to your skin.

“I saw you deposit money in my account again. I thought using my card would be a great revenge. Now, I know it’s not. This sucks! It hurts not to come. We both know you’re just going to pay the bill when it comes.” You sob, looking absolutely hurt and exhausted.

Quinn quickly pulls you up, soothing you with a hug. He sighs as you melt into his touch. You sniffle but your hand reaches between you two, tugging at his pants, trying to get to his cock.

“You have to make me come.” You beg, looking at him with your best puppy eyes. “Please?”

“You always beg so perfectly.” He tucks your hair behind your ears. “Wasn’t so hard to admit your wrongs, was it?”

“I know. I already said sorry—”

He cuts you off by pushing you back. He quickly tugs his pants down, pressing his dribbling cock to your pussy, shuddering at the feel of your trembling entrance. One swift thrust and he’s seated inside of you. Fuck. Your pussy is truly made for him. He perfectly fits. All of him. He can feel every crevice, every texture, every arousal that coats you deep inside. Shit. So good. He can come just by being inside of you, by feeling your tight pussy’s embrace. Did you know that?

But he knows that it’s not enough for you tonight.

You need him to fuck you, so he does. He fucked you hard and rough that your eyes are rolling up as you come. Even then you plead for more and more.

So he gives you everything. Changing the tempo here and there, going slow and deliberate, going back to a fast pace. He gives you everything because you deserve it.

Every time he feels that you’re about to come again, he whispers into ears, “That’s my good girl. Give me one more. That’s it. My good little slut. Take what you need. Come, my Love.”

Every time.

He draws out your fifth orgasm then he comes deep inside you, swearing loudly into your ear. He’s coming so hard that his eyesight dims. Your pussy milks every drop of his cum. How he still manages to flick your sensitive clit while he comes so hard is a mystery, but it doesn’t matter when you start to gush.

You’re making such a mess.

You always do.

“Quinn, oh my, fuck,” you cry out.

“It’s okay. I got you. Just let go, my Love,” he encourages, flicking your clit again and again, until you’ve successfully drench both of you. “No more?”

“No more. No more.” You shake your head, so he stops. “Kiss me.”

He obliges you, kissing you, whispering praises in between. You both spend minutes just kissing until you’ve calm down. Quinn gives you one last kiss before he stands to run a bath. He puts a few drops of lavender and chamomile oils in the tub. It’ll soothe you.

He comes back out to wrap you with a fresh and heated towel while the bath fills up. You look so spent, so Quinn holds you for a few more minutes, whispering more and more soft praises in your ear, because you’ve earned it.

When he hears the tub fill up, he takes you to it. He helps you in, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Just relax here. I’ll join you in a bit, okay?” He says as you settle. You nod at him as your eyes slowly blink. “I won’t take long. Don’t sleep. Not when I’m not here.”

“Okay, Quinny,” you say as you yawn. Your tummy rumbles. “Hungry.”

“I’ll get you a sandwich then I’ll make dinner after our bath. Sounds good?”

You smile at him.

His heart flutters, his stomach filling up with butterflies. He presses another kiss on your head, before he’s off, leaving you to have a little alone time. He got one thing in his mind.

He made his way to your bag that’s left behind on the floor. Humming a soft tune, he carries it to the counter, setting it down, as he takes out the ingredients for a sandwich. Just bread and your favorite jam. Washing his hands quickly, he fixes your sandwich, placing it on a plate. He also takes a fresh and cool bottle of water. It will do for a light snack before dinner, but he doesn’t take it immediately to you.

He sits on a stool, rummaging through your bag, finding your wallet.

He smiles at your photo with him there. It’s taken from a polaroid. He knows there’s another photo tucked behind it. It’s you and him in an ice rink that you had personally printed out. You’re truly cute.

He touches your face, heart pounding at how breathtaking you always look.

Even when you’re so fucked out, your beauty never changes. He can’t wait to grow old with you. He bet with everything he has and more that you will still look like the beautiful woman in the world, because you are.

Then he takes the credit card you’ve used today.

His smile never goes away as he stares at it for full minute.

Then he snips it in half and does the same to another and another.

Now, you only have one card left.

967 notes · View notes

hencheri · 3 months ago

Text

▸ 18+ mdni.

haechan catches you peeping on him.

| pairing. haechan x peeping tom!reader

| warnings. dubcon, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, mean!haechan.

| wc. 2k

haechan’s house is really neat. even the rooms you expect to be a little messier, like the bathroom and kitchen, are perfectly organized and clean. apart from some used dishes in the sink and a book on the couch, everything is put away in its respective place.

it’s as if his home is unoccupied at how neat it is, but the decoration here and there, and the opened mail on the kitchen counter tell you otherwise.

it’s chic, pearly white walls with some touches of grey and black on the furniture. really modern too, with big windows that allow the sunlight to illuminate the house during the early hours of the day.

there’s no more sunlight now as it is late in the evening, but it’s still really beautiful, the living room being lit up by the street lamps outside and the bright moon in the sky.

haechan always keeps a spare key hidden in a pot beside the backdoor. that’s how you managed to get inside without triggering the safety alarm. you’re careful to not turn on any lights, but you’re also grateful he has the habit of keeping the ceiling light of the kitchen on, so you can walk through the first floor without any issue.

you don’t touch a lot of things there, mainly because you don’t want to take the risk and what really interests you is upstairs. you quickly look through the bathroom, but most of his personal stuff is in the other one where you know he has his expensive shampoo and cologne.

you eventually go upstairs. you first enter his bedroom and it’s really cozy, smelling so much like him. his bed is made, his laptop sitting on top of the thick covers, and his slippers are beside the nightstand, ready for when he returns.

you’re tempted to open his laptop, and so you get on his bed, placing the electronic device before you, pulling the lid up.

unfortunately, it’s protected by a password. before you can even try to type something on the keyboard, you hear the front door opening.

you immediately start to panic, closing the lid of the laptop hurriedly, stepping on your feet and searching for a hiding spot. you don’t have much time as you hear the sounds of him walking upstairs, reaching for the door of the closet.

he enters his room with a groan, dropping his phone on his bed.

you cover your mouth with your hand so he doesn’t hear your rapid breathing, watching him through the blinds of the closet’s door.

he goes to the dresser in front of his bed and looks at himself briefly in the mirror, passing his hand through his long black locks. he licks his lips before pulling his t-shirt over his head by the collar and putting it in the laundry basket. he remains in his grey sweatpants, hanging a bit low on his hips.

you feel your face heating up at the sight of haechan shirtless, his honey skin revealed to you. he’s literally breathtaking.

he disappears to the bathroom, you assume to take a shower as you hear the water running. he comes back 10 minutes later, now laying down in bed, picking up his laptop.

he first types out things on his keyboard, and you think that he might be answering emails. then, you’re not sure of what he’s doing, browsing through the internet, clicking on some things you obviously can’t see from where you’re hiding.

you’re thinking about how you will be able to leave. perhaps when he’ll be asleep, but you know he’s a very light sleeper, you could wake him up. you come to the conclusion that the safest way will be tomorrow when he’ll be off to work. you’ll have to stay in this closet for a couple of hours…

your attention is back quickly on haechan as he starts palming himself over his sweats, feminine moans being heard, coming from a video playing on his laptop. it doesn’t take you long to understand what exactly he’s watching, his hand gripping and squeezing his cock still trapped in his pants.

he wets his pink lips with his tongue, eyes staring at the screen of his computer, a mix of squelching noises and high-pitched moans echoing in the room. he reaches into his sweatpants, stroking his engorged cock and letting out a groan.

your cheeks are definitely on fire now. they are burning, and so is your core, heating up more and more at the sinful scene in front of you. you try to calm down because you really don’t want haechan to know you’re here, but it’s so difficult, feeling the urge to ease the ache between your legs.

the urge to come out of the closet and finally do what you dream of everyday…

he pushes down his sweats, bringing his briefs with them, freeing his pulsating erection. his hand grips his cock again, and he parts his legs wider, stroking himself at a slow pace. his mouth is ajar to let out shallow breaths, having to lick his lips multiple times to hydrate them.

you can’t believe this is really happening right now. after all, you’re into haechan’s intimacy, and he doesn’t know that you’re here… you should have anticipated something like that could happen, but to be honest, you’re not displeased, quite the opposite.

his breath has become more erratic and the pace of his hand goes faster. the head of his cock glistens under the light of his bedroom, spreading his pre-cum all over his girth.

“fuck,” he curses under his breath as he comes too close to his orgasm, stopping his movements and squeezing the base of his cock while throwing his head back.

his chest heaves up and down rapidly, and after a few seconds, haechan looks back at the screen of his computer, stroking his cock with his fist.

you can clearly feel the pulse between your legs and the sticky feeling in your panties is almost embarrassing, your face burning hot. there’s no way your panties are not soaking in your arousal right now.

his bangs get into his eyes, so he passes a hand through his hair, pushing the strands away, but they fall right back in front of his eyes when he moves his head slightly down. he lets out a moan, slowing his pace when he feels his high coming, starting up once again as he can’t help but pleasure himself.

your eyes travel his body, and the need to touch your own is too strong to ignore, your hand lingering over your core. your gaze goes up to his chest, a thin layer of sweat covering his skin. you look down to his subtle abs, then to his crotch, the area that catches your attention the most.

you know haechan is about to cum when he accelerates the pace of his hand, rubbing his cock until his thighs tense up as well as his stomach, reaching his high. a low and high-pitched moan escapes his mouth as his cock spurts out long ropes of cum, landing on his abdomen, more coming out and dripping down over his hand.

at this, you quickly rub your clit over your panties, cumming at the same time as him with your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.

but you’re too lost in your own lust that you accidentally make a hanger fall, alerting haechan of your presence. you internally curse yourself, not even down from your orgasm that you already get caught.

you pray in silence, but after whipping his cum off his stomach and pausing the video, haechan gets up from his bed, pulling his sweats up. you watch him approaching the closet, absolutely terrified.

you shut your eyes, hoping that he doesn’t see you, but you have to be really dumb to think he won’t.

“who the fuck are you?”

you’re in trouble.

you open your eyes and slowly look up to see him staring down at you with a confused—no, furious—expression on his face. he’s not even freaked out or weirded out, he’s mad.

“were you watching me? you fucking creep,” he insults, and you won’t lie that it hurts you a little. you didn’t mean this to happen.

you don’t say anything, a knot in your throat forming as you feel tears appearing in your eyes. oh, god… this is so not how you wanted it to end up.

“come here…” he says through gritted teeth, grabbing your arm and pulling you up to your feet. he towers over you and you can feel how pissed off he is just by the way he’s looking at you.

he drags you out of his room, not addressing you a single word as he brings you to the first floor and to the door leading downstairs.

“wait-” you choke out as you realize what he’s going to do, “please, don’t!”

he opens the door and shoves you inside, almost making you fall down the stairs. when he lets go of your arm, you rush to get out, but he closes the door before you can.

“no, no… please! i’m sorry!” you yell and cry, banging on the door that separates you from him.

he locks you in and he leaves you there, turning the kitchen’s lights off. you scream for him all night, but he never comes, having you sleep there without any food or water.

in the morning, you hear him preparing himself to go to work. you scream at him again, but he doesn’t even acknowledge you. you stay by the door all day crying and sniffling, hiccuping at how intensely you cried.

when he comes back from work, you don’t have the energy to call for him, and so you look under the door to watch his shadow. after what felt like hours, his feet finally stop in front of the basement, and you’re absolutely relieved to hear him unlocking the door.

you immediately look up at him when he opens it, but you don’t dare saying a word, too afraid to say something wrong, something that would make him lock you up in there again.

he grabs the same arm as yesterday and you wince at the sore feeling. he held you with so much force that he left the mark of his fingers on you.

he walks you down the stairs, lighting up the basement and pushing you on the dusty couch.

you raise your hands in front of you as defense, wanting him to calm down. “please, i didn’t-” you begin, but get cut off by him.

“you didn’t what, huh? what haven’t you done?” he asks ironically, straddling your body sprawled out on the couch. “‘cause you broke into my house, watched me jerk off, and… snooped through my shit,” he says while tugging on your top, recognizing it as his own t-shirt. “so honestly, there’s nothing you didn’t do.”

“i’m sorry…” you only manage to respond.

he scoffs at that, shaking his head. “shut up,” he says, “you’re only sorry because you got caught, bitch.” you swallow, looking at him with glossy eyes and trembling lips. “i should call the cops on you, you know? you gotta be a fucking freak to watch me jerk off,” he laughs, mocking you. “bet you enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

as if to confirm his words, he sneaks a hand under your skirt, pulling your panties to the side. he immediately feels your wetness from last night, gliding his fingers through your sticky folds. you can’t refrain the moans from slipping past your lips.

“yeah, you fucking did, nasty whore.”

he purposely rubs your clit with his finger and you flinch at the contact, seeing that you’re still very sensitive from your ruined orgasm. he removes his hand from between your legs, bringing his wet fingers to your mouth.

“come on, open,” he instructs, and you do, welcoming his digits in. “see, i think i'm gonna keep you… gonna give you the real thing, must be boring to only always watch, no?”

#[ ★ ] dark content #— ☆ starring dream #— ☆ starring 127 #w/ haechan !#nct smut #nct x reader #nct hard hours #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 smut #haechan x reader #haechan smut

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mortish-writes · 22 days ago

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You wake in a frozen wasteland, abandoned, hungry, and with no memory of who or what you are.

Two enigmatic and powerful men find you in the snow. They take you in and keep you warm. Try as you might to resist them, it isn't long before you lose your heart and your virtue...

The third moonday of the Bride of Shadows rework is now available on the public build.

Learn new lore.

Banter with Serax.

Have your first encounter with Kerach.

Sink into your third dream and choose your patron goddess.

Mature female-protagonist interactive romance novel, 18+

[Play the Public Build]

My computer broke last week. Thankfully it's all fixed as of yesterday and most of my data was saved to the cloud, but I'm still in the process of getting all of my programs re-installed and trying to figure out which email/password combos I used for various sites. Bear with me while I get my stuff sorted and I'll have an estimated date for the next update later this week. I have a big backlog of messages, I'm not ignoring anyone, I'm just running a little behind schedule and I'll answer everything once I'm caught up.

For those who haven't seen it yet, I'll be posting the dynamics guide here on Tumblr in a little bit. That will give you a comprehensive breakdown on how the new romance system works.

-Mortish

#bride of shadows if #twine wip #dark fantasy romance #vampire romance #fantasy worldbuilding #interactive novel #romantasy

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simpee9000 · 1 year ago

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Not Just Friends - 2 -

Prologue : Chapter 1 : Not edited : 3.4k words : M.List

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

---

-suit colors -can shut my quirk completely off -isn't a piece of shit -password. -others cant turn my shit off either -katsuki

The note Katsuki left was majority scribbles, clearly written the second he left. You found it right when you were leaving, the crumpled sticky note being placed next to your keys.

Getting the watch set up and made for him would be difficult. Mainly making sure others can't tamper with his quirk. Everything else would be easy. Two weeks tops. Simply needed to take the same material used for his gloves and gauntlets and use it for his watch. The password and personal quirk disabled features would also be easy, just using the same techniques that normal quirk handcuffs use.

When you got to your office you immediately got to work. Drawing up the design and adding in the small details you wanted to add. You went through your email as well, getting the details Izuku sent you about what he wants. Unluckily for him, you would have to order the stuff he needs, everything Katsuki needed was already in the building. His case was personally yours so you saved up any left over materials from his suit. The quirk removing feature would take more time to set up though.

---

"Hey!" someone shouted, tacking your name to the end.

You just entered Katsuki's hero agency for lunch, talking with the sweet old receptionist. Ignoring the shout, you thanked the lady for buzzing you up. Walking over to the elevators and pushing the button to go up.

"Don't ignore me!" The voice whined. You rolled your eyes stepping into the elevator and frantically clicking the button to close the doors.

The doors almost shut completely, a hand stopping it a second to late and getting crushed.

"Fuckin' christ!" You opened the door as quick as you could, trying to make sure they weren't injured. They were doubled over, holding their hand to their chest. "Are you okay?" You asked, grabbing their shoulder to lift them away, attempting to see the injury.

They started shaking and panic ran through you, before you could yell to the receptionist to call paramedics they started laughing. Standing up straight and smiling, placing their 'injured hand' on your shoulder to support their laughter.

"Oh go fuck yourself," you brushed them off. Pressing the elevator open again.

"I'm sorry it was too easy!" He smiled. Moving to stand next to you again.

You ignored him once again. Stepping into the elevator that he unfortunately joined. Looking at the door that previously crushed his hand. "You broke the door," you pointed out, crossing your arms.

"Holy shit, Bakugo is going to kill me," he paled.

"That's what you get for activating your quirk between metal, Kirishima," you commented.

"Ouch, last name?" he feigned pain, clutching a hand to his heart, "Come on, how was I supposed to know?"

You glanced at him briefly, "You nickname your quirk unbreakable, what did you expect?" You deadpanned.

"Not that!"

"Be serious, I know you're not that dumb," you said, stepping out of the elevator at Katsuki's floor. Beginning the path to his office.

"I just wanted to talk to you," he complained, "but you ignored me completely."

"I wonder why."

"Come on," he pleaded, "I said I was sorry."

"Don't care," you knocked on Katsuki's office.

"Please," he begged.

"No."

Just as Kirishima opened his mouth to beg more, Katsuki opened his door. "The fuck are you two bitching about?" Katsuki looked at you for an answer. Which you shrugged and made your way inside. Sitting in his desk chair and sorting through the food he ordered for you two.

Katsuki turned his head to Kirishima, wanting an answer. "She won't talk to me," he pointed at you like a child.

Katsuki turned to you, raising an eyebrow, "Really?"

Before he could start getting to you about acting like a child you pointed back at Kirishima, "He broke your elevator."

He glared at the red head.

"I was just trying to talk to her!"

"And you needed to break my elevator to do that?"

Kirishima paused his comeback, knowing anything he wanted to say would be flawed. You choked back a laugh, cause Katsuki to turn to you.

"Don't act like you're innocent," he pointed, "All ya had to do was to talk him and my door wouldn't be broken."

"Nah, he broke my shit," you shrugged.

"I said I was sorry!"

"Yet now you just broke his shit too," you backed.

"What else did he break?" Katsuki asked.

You pointed towards Kirishima, and his hero outfit, "He broke his shoulder guards, again. I've fixed them five times this month because of the stupid shit he is doing."

"Whatever, out," Katsuki motioned for Kirishima to leave. Which he did, with a pout on his face. Katsuki shut the door and walked over. "Why do you insist on stealing my chair everytime?"

"The other ones aren't comfortable," you answered, handing him his food and opening yours to start eating. "Oh!" You perked up, "I finished the design for your watch, just need everything ordered and I'll start on it."

He took a break from his food, looking up at you, "How long?"

"Shipment should get here in two days, they just had a huge order and have a ton of left overs, so I'm using the stuff they have extras of. Wanna see the design?" You smiled, pulling up a picture on your phone when he nodded.

He looked over the notes you wrote down, zooming in on the smaller details, "looks good."

"Good!" You smiled.

His office door opened, "I forgot, we're having a little get together at Denki's place Saturday," Kirishima smiled before shutting the door again.

"No."

"Come on Kats," you begged, trying to meet his eyes.

"Nuh uh," he took a bite of his food, looking up briefly and meeting your eyes.

"Please! We haven't hung out with them in forever!" You pointed out.

"We hung out last night."

"Yeah, with Z', not with your friends."

"No."

He glared at you until he felt your hand rest on the top of his, "Please?"

"Fuckin' fine," he brushed off your hand and continued eating.

---

"This is lot more then a little get together," Katsuki grumbled right after pushing the door open. Disregarding a knock all together and walking straight in, taking a pause in his step.

You took a glance over his shoulder, since he took up the majority of the small hallway that started off the apartment, seeing the solid twenty or more people that crowded Denki's and Sero's apartment. "It's fine, it's not like we are forced to stay long," you pushed his back lightly, getting him to walk in entirely.

"Kacchan! Surprised you came!" Denki smiled once he saw Katsuki leave the hallway, you stepping out from behind him. "Thanks for dragging him here," Denki came up to you, giving you a one armed hug since his other hand was holding a beer.

"What else am I good for," you joked, "Didn't you say this was a small get together?"

"I was just trying to increase the odds of #2 pro hero coming in," he shrugged, Katsuki shooting him a glare and you a look, saying he wished he never came. "Now make yourselves at home, I gotta make sure Mina doesn't eat all the jello shots."

You watched Denki skip to the kitchen, instantly yelling at a stuffed faced Mina. Looking around the room you saw Sero sitting in a chair with two open spots next to it, turning back to Katsuki, he already knew your look, "Go, I'll get you a drink."

Sero saw you heading his way and gave you a wave. He was sitting in a recliner and had a loveseat spaced next to it. You took the loveseat and leaned on the armrest close to him, kicking your feet unto the other half of the couch to prevent someone stealing Kats spot.

"How's work?" Sero asked once you gave him your attention.

"Good, busy as always. But I've been ahead of the game lately, I think I can start branching out more on my own soon," you smiled.

"Exciting," he smiled, " I see you got the grump outside for once," he nodded to Katsuki, who was being badgered by some of Denki's sidekicks/partners.

You laughed, "Yeah, you're not the first to tell me that tonight, but I'm not surpised. He went out with me last night to Z' as well."

"Did you drug him? I won't snitch."

"No, I think his mom yelled at him or something," you pretended to expose. Hiding the truth behind Katsuki's behavior, which was likely the civilian death he had to deal with recently. "But how's your work?"

"Meh, it's hero work," he drank from his cup, "Recently had to deal with a spider villain so it was weird. It was like fighting myself if I had eight legs and eyes."

The two of you continue to talk about work or recent things between friends. Briefly discussing Kirishima and Mina's budding relationship that's been going on for years. Just before Sero could question your own relationship, Katsuki came back.

"Fuckin' nerds wouldn't leave me alone," he grumbled picking up your legs and sitting on the couch with you, handing you a drink.

"You love the attention," you bumped him with your knee, "and careful, might summon them again."

Casual conversation formed once again, banter between you and Katsuki, and annoyance from him to Sero. On the heated topic of old heroes. With Sero caring less, and just wanting to rile him up.

You smiled along with their conversation, more focus on Katsuki. He's rested into the chair despite being annoyed at the conversation. Having a hand rested on your knee and the other rested on the armrest, holding a low carb beer. Which he took a sip of every once in a while before he had to tell Sero he was wrong again. You admired every move of his, from his sharp jaw, to defined cheekbones, and his bright red eyes. Only stopping when Sero called you out.

"Stop eye fucking in front of me," Sero gagged.

"The fuck?" Katsuki question, not ever aware of what you were doing, "We're not."

"You might not be," Sero smirked.

"Oh fuck you, Sero," you rolled your eyes. Ignoring the blush you felt heating your face.

"Don't push your feelings onto me," Sero teased.

"Oh my god," you groaned, " I give up." Sero crackled as he laughed at you. "Shouldn't you be talking about your dumbass celebrity crush in America?"

"Who's that?" Katsuki questioned, willing to change the topic of conversation again.

"He has a crush on an actor, Ryan Reynolds. The one that reenacts the old anti-hero Deadpool," you informed.

"It's normal in America! Every guy loves him, even the straightest!" Sero defends.

"You do know the murders that Deadpool committed right?" Katsuki questioned, wanting to get on the topic of heroes, a topic he knew everything about.

The debate between whether Deadpool committed crimes for good or not was easily started. Giving yourself another chance to look at Katsuki. Not wanting to be caught you looked at the hand rested on your knee. Reaching out your own hand to trace over his. Soft and smooth from his sweat but rough from the work day. He let his hand lose the soft grip on your knee, letting you hold his entire hand freely. You traced over the rough pads of his fingers that you knew would turn soft again in the morning. Rubbing your thumb over his knuckles and the veins that lined the top of his hand. Remembering how a few years ago he would freak out if you tried to do this exact thing. Only this year has he started to let you hold his hand for longer than five minutes.

Yet he still wasn't perfect. Eventually he pulled his hand from your grip and wiped his hands off on his pants. It seemed like he didn't want your touch on him, it stung. You knew that was unlikely, but the thought couldn't leave your mind. you folded up. Crossing your arms slowly and turning your attention back onto Sero. Which caused his eyes to flicker between you and Katsuki, clearly reading your face. Before he could ask anything, he gave him a slight shake of your head.

Eventually Kirishima dragged Katsuki away from the conversation, wanting him as a partner for cup flipping.

"How come you aren't flirting with girls, Sero?" you asked, used to him normally parading the party rooms for someone to flirt with.

"Denki called dibs on everyone here basically," Sero shrugged. He sat up from his slouched sitting, " Now, what the fuck was that?" Sero motioned from you to where Katsuki was now playing games with Kirishima.

Play dumb.

"Whatcha mean?" you took a sip of your drink.

"Don't play that shit with me, He pulled away from you completely," he pointed out.

"I know, he always does that," you pointed out, wanting to stress that this wasn't a big deal.

"Always? You're kidding"

"Nope," you took a sip, "He's actually improved."

"You're saying it used to be worse," His jaw basically dropped.

"It's Katsuki you're talking about right now," you deadplanned, "Speaking of which, we never talked about this. He doesn't know it bugs me and he doesn't need to."

"Yes he does," Sero stressed.

"No he doesn't," you hissed, " I don't want him knowing. It's fine."

"Come on-"

"Sero, stop."

Before he could push forward someone entered your peripheral, standing in front of Katsuki's spot. Turning your head towards him you gave a guarded smile.

"This seat takin?" he somewhat slurred.

"Yeah it-"

"Kidding! I know it's not. No one has sat here for a good 10 minutes from what I've seen," The guy plopped down on the couch, giving you barely enough time to kick your feet off the couch and scoot over the crowd the armrest into order to not touch the guy. You and Sero shared a look. "So, what's a girl like you doing here alone," The guy smiled, slapping a hand down on your thigh to gain your attention back from Sero.

"I'm not alone?" you peeled his hand from your thigh, dropping it back onto his lap, "I was actually just talk to my friend here abo-"

He put his hand back on your thigh, "I was asking why you had no boyfriend here, you're so pretty."

"I do have one-" you tried to cut in.

"I'll be your boyfriend, names Mason," he smiled weirdly.

Once again, you peeled his hand off your leg, "No thanks."

"Is it cause the name? I'm from America, I'm not lying about my name to sound cool," he hurried out, replacing his hand on your thigh.

"Trust me, I know you're not trying to sound cool," you spoke out disgust, "Now could you please not?" Sero and you shared another look, his asking if he should step in, but you shook your head. You could handle this just fine.

He pondered for a moment, "It's cause you don't know me right? Well, I'm from America. Here to learn about the Japanese heroes-"

"Dude," you cut him off, "I could give less of a fuck, please leave me alone."

"Don't play hard to get," he grabbed onto your leg harder.

Just before Sero jumped in-

"I leave for five fucking minutes," Katsuki spits out.

The guy looked over the back of the couch, "Sorry, did you plan to make a move? I swung first sorry dude, better luck next time."

"No, I fuckin' plan to swing first on the dude that's holding onto my fuckin' girlfriend."

You took the opportunity of the guy being distracted to get his hands off you, and to leave the couch.

"Hey, babe don't leave yet, the guys just being an ass, he'll leave soon," the creep called out to you.

Everyone's attention was on the guy now. Staring at him baffled that he called #2 pro hero an ass right in front of him and his girlfriend. You stepped closer to Sero, prepared for what was about to happen.

"That's it," Katsuki grabbed the hair on the back of the guys head and yanked him down. Couch flipping over with the guy. A quick stomp on the dude stomach had him rolling over in enough pain.

"My couch!" Denki yelped.

"Fuck your couch and fuck your party," Katsuki walked up to you, grabbed your hand and pulled you to leave.

"Gimme a second, I want to say bye," you tugged on his hold when he got to the hallway that lead to the front entrance.

He looked at you baffled, "You just got felt up, they could care less if you said bye right now."

"Kats, I'm fine. I would of handled it if you didn't."

"Fine, say bye," he waved you off, crossing his arms and guarding the exit.

You walked up to where Kirishima, Sero, and Denki were standing watching drunk Mina lecture the creep.

"Hey, I'm heading out," you spoke from behind them, getting their attention.

"That's fine girl, Imma kick his ass more for you," Mina slurred as she jumped to hug you, almost knocking you off your feet. She pulled back from the hug and held onto your shoulders, "You okay?"

"Yeah," you nodded, getting her out of your hold and pushing her into Kirishima, "Make sure she doesn't do something stupid."

"I will, I'll deal with the guy too. What he did was fucking gross," you flinched, it was rare to hear Kirishima curse.

"I bet you will," laughed off. Hugging Sero and thanking Denki for inviting you, all of them double checking if you were okay. It warmed your heart that they were heroes, it was truly the right career. So after confirming that you were fine, you walked back to Katsuki.

"Done?"

"Yep," you put your shoes back on and left the apartment together.

Once in his car, Katsuki turned to you. "You sure you're okay? I'll go put the guy in fucking jail."

You laughed, "I'm fine, Kirishima has it handled."

"You sure?"

"It's not the worst thing a guy has said to me," you shrugged, "Can we get some fast food?"

"The fuck else has a guy said to you?"

"Nothing important Kats, can we drop it? I'm fine."

He eyed you warily, trying to find the correct way to go about this. He sighed and gave in, "What fast food?"

"I don't know, I want a shake."

---

The two of you got the food and cozied on your couch, digging in once you had a random Netflix movie playing. With half of your attention on the movie, and half on the situation, you decided to bring it up. "Is it weird that what the guy did doesn't bug me much?"

Katsuki glance your way, "No? Everyone has different reactions to everything."

"The main thing that bugs me is that people can't tell we are dating, like ever," you said honestly. "Like the dude didn't buy I had a boyfriend in general."

He hummed in reply.

"Our own friends forget half the time, like I wish they knew we were together, and took my word for it," you sighed.

"I know how you feel," Katsuki looked down at his hands, that held his half eaten burger.

"Even you feel that way?" you grabbed a couple fries to eat.

He looked at you, "The other night with that Nana girl, just wished it was more obvious."

"We can't blame them though, it's not like we act like a traditional couple," you shrugged and took a sip of your shake.

"Sorry," shame filled his voice.

You turned to him with you're full attention, "Why are you sorry? You haven't done anything?

"That's the issue," he crossed his arms," I don't do anything, I fucking brush you off me," he dropped his arms again. resting them on his knees and putting his face in his hands.

"Hey," you reached for his shoulder. Stopping when he flinched away from you, "Sorry," you mumbled. Forgetting he hates being sneaked up on or touched when he isn't paying attention.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about, I don't do anything but pull away from you. And you're honestly telling me you're fucking happy in this relationship?" Katsuki looked at you. Getting up to pace when you just stared at him, confused by his outburst.

"Are you not?" you asked, watching him pace the room.

He paused, "Why wouldn't I be? You give me everything I need. I don't even fucking acknowledge your primary love language while you hit every goal of mine."

"Kats, what I said to the girls the other night is the truth, I'm okay with it. The things you need are just as important, and if that's to not touch, that's fine."

"Fucking bullshit-"

"Katsuki," you said his name sharply, "I mean it."

"I don't know how-"

"That doesn't matter, you're worried I'm unhappy and I'm telling you that I am happy. Because I am, now can we please not get into this right now? Tonight already hasn't gone well."

"Fuck, you're right, I'm sorry," he rubbed his hands over his face and went back to his spot of the couch. leaving his food half touched. He opened his arms, "You can lay on me if you want."

"Katsuki, I told you, no physical touch is-"

"That's not what I'm getting at, c'mere," he motioned towards himself. And who were you to refuse, quickly curling up into his side and watching a movie to wash the bad day off you're mind.

-Next Part-

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3

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corvessa · 13 days ago

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Finding Out You're Dating a Security Risk

a/n: honestly had a thought that theo wouldn’t be the one with good online safety habits, and since the reader’s super tech-savvy, it created this sweet, mildly stressful, and kinda educational moment. tried to keep it easy to follow, even if you’re not into tech stuff. Summary: A coding stream takes a turn when a casual chat with Theodore reveals a surprising security risk, and a very patient lesson in digital hygiene begins.

Your stream was already buzzing. No League today, no cozy indie games. Just your VSCode window open, some terminal lines running, and a full-blown “tech talk” kind of vibe.

“So,” you said, gesturing at your screen, “when someone logs into a website, their info—like username and password—gets sent over HTTPS. That’s basically a secure connection. Like a locked box for your data.”

Next to you on camera, Theodore nodded slowly while sipping his tea, trying to look like he understood more than five percent of what you just said.

“So… it’s like an invisibility cloak for your password?”

You laughed. “Sure. Basically. It keeps bad people from spying on your info while it’s being sent from your computer to the website.”

“Spying how, exactly?”

“Well,” you explained, “every time you go online, you send tiny packets of data—little bits that make up whatever you’re doing, like loading a page or logging in. If someone’s watching the network and it’s not encrypted, they can steal that data.”

Theodore raised his eyebrows. “Wait. So if the connection isn’t locked, people can just… grab my password mid-air?”

“Exactly.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, that sounds super illegal.”

“It is. That’s why HTTPS is non-negotiable. Every login page. Every time.”

You turned back to your code, typing out a function. There was a quiet moment.

Then he casually asked, “So, if one of my passwords is encrypted on a site, it’s safe everywhere, right?”

You didn’t look up. “Not really. Why?”

“Well… I just use the same password for everything. One good one. Easy to remember.”

You froze mid-keystroke.

“…You what?”

“I mean, sometimes I switch it up. Like I’ll add a ‘99’ or an exclamation point, depending on the mood.”

Your head slowly turned toward him. “Theodore.”

“What?”

You minimized your code window.

“Please tell me you’re not using the same email for all of those accounts too.”

He blinked. “Uh… yeah? Isn’t that what people do?”

Your eye twitched.

- she's buffering - ERROR: boyfriend has no digital hygiene - help. she’s going to ascend - he’s charming and a walking data breach

You took a long breath.

“Okay. Picture this. Just one of those sites gets hacked. Just one. Your email and password are out there now. Anyone can try logging into your other accounts using the same combo.”

He tilted his head. “That actually happened to me once.”

You stared at him. “I'm sorry—what?”

“Yeah. A couple years ago. I got logged out of Spotify, and when I got back in, all the playlists were in Portuguese.”

- NOT THE PORTUGUESE PLAYLIST TAKEOVER 💀 - i am CRYING - the man’s passwords are possessed

You opened another browser tab and typed in his email on Have I Been Pwned—a site that shows if your email has been in any known data leaks.

“…Theodore, you’re in five data breaches.”

He squinted at the screen. “Wait, that’s me? Why is my email there? Who even uses Adobe?”

You pressed your hands to your face. “Babe. No. We need to talk about password managers.”

“But I remember all my passwords! I use the same one, and I just—"

“That. Is. The. Problem.”

He tilted his head again like a golden retriever being scolded gently. “I thought I was being smart.”

“You’re being hackable.”

- ICONIC LINE - protect him. educate him. at all cost. - she’s gonna install NordPass with tears in her eyes - build him a digital sandbox and keep him in it

You leaned back, trying to stay calm.

“Okay. New plan. After the stream, we are:

Downloading a password manager.

Turning on two-factor authentication. Everywhere.

Deleting anything with a birthday, pet name, or your favorite pasta in it.

NEVER using your go-to password again.”

He winced a little. “...Even for Netflix?”

You stared at him like you were considering launching him into the sun.

“Got it. Changing Netflix. Copy that.”

You sighed. “You are… my favorite vulnerability.”

He lit up. “Aww.”

“Not in a good way.”

- the romance is coded in JSON - cybergeek x golden retriever is THE blueprint - imagine being so hot you get away with this kind of digital crime

Eventually the stream wound down, and Theodore helped you shut things off. He looked sheepish.

“Hey… thanks for not yelling.”

You shook your head. “I’m not mad. Just… wildly, deeply concerned.”

He chuckled. “At least I learned what HTTPS is. And I’m kinda excited to get a password manager now. Can I name it something cool? Like… Vaulto, the Guardian of Secrets?”

“…Yes. But only if I get to set it up for you.”

“Deal.”

You paused. “Also, we’re changing your email recovery questions. ‘Favorite food: pasta’ is not cutting it.”

He nodded solemnly. “That’s fair.”

You muttered under your breath. “If you’ve ever typed ‘password123’ I swear to god—”

“…With a capital P?” he offered.

You facepalmed.

a/n: Yes, Have I Been Pwned is a real website (haveibeenpwned.com) where you can check if your email has appeared in any known data breaches. It’s free, safe, and surprisingly eye-opening. If you haven’t checked it before, this is your sign — stay safe online, use strong passwords, and maybe... don’t reuse the same one everywhere like our boy Theo in this story.

#fiction #x reader #slytherin boys #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theo nott

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fanficsandcodposts · 1 month ago

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König X Reader (F) ~Nerdy Little Maus~ When the reader successfully gets into a Dark Web Forum and makes a name for herself, how unfortunate for her she's a little to trusting with her client. How fortunate for the client, König, though that she falls right into his trap for him to take his nerdy little maus, all for himself. (Daddy Issues, Sugar Daddy, Kidnapping, Corruption Kink, Size Kink, Female Reader) Ao3 Link No TW - Part 1

Life had not been kind to you when you were young. Your mother passed away tragically, leaving you to be cared for by your father, who took the bottle to cope with her death. You tried desperately to gain his favor by excelling in your studies, but sadly, his drinks kept all his attention.

You were taking a computer science class in high school and excelling at learning code. The teacher, Mr. Johnson, was impressed at your ability to pick up the new information so quickly. Mr. Johnson pulled you aside one day and handed you a flyer for an ethical hacking competition; he truly believed you had what it took to win. For a few weeks straight, you stayed after school studying with a small group of other students, learning everything Mr. Johnson knew to teach. On the Saturday of the competition, your father begrudgingly permitted you to go with Mr. Johnson, Mrs. Johnson, and a few other classmates as a group.

You won the competition that day and were awarded a $10,000 scholarship to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT). The joy you felt as you stood on stage accepting your scholarship brought tears of happiness to your eyes. It was a shame your father was too busy-(drunk) to see how you glowed with pride at the most significant achievement of your life thus far.

Now, you sat in a dingy studio apartment. Staring at your Dell laptop at overdue bill emails. Student loans, rent, and credit card payments all accumulated with no significant income to pay them. You graduated from MIT but at the cost of over $80,000 in student loans. You couldn't find a job in the computer science field; the only work you landed was as a bartender at the bar down the street from your place. At least you were good at making drinks; tips kept the lights on, but you were sure you'd never make it out of the financial ruin you sadly got yourself into.

Whenever the manager encountered computer issues, you were always the first one he'd call. One day, while on the clock, you sat in his office, updating his pc to Windows 10. He watched as you had no issues clicking here and there; it was almost infuriating because, to him, what you did so effortlessly would have taken him hours to achieve just step one.

"You know, sweetheart, you need to get out of here and get a job in the computer field." Mike, the manager, said gruffly as he leaned arms crossed on his office door frame.

"Would if I could, Mike. I've all about givin' up on that dream." You replied, still staring at the blue computer screen.

"Don't cut yourself short. You are young, beautiful, and way smarter than any of the other idiots I have working here. Bring in the most money, too. I would miss that, though, if ya leave."

You let out a half-hearted chuckle. "Yeah, well, I use my pretty privilege more than my fucking MIT degree. But it helped me pull a $100 tip last week from the bachelor party, though. So don't worry, I'm not going anywhere, Mike."

Mike stands quietly and clears his throat, waiting a brief moment before he speaks again.

"Don't tell anyone I told ya, alright? But my buddy David knows a kinda underground Dark Web group that is always looking for someone like you. You know, that knows how to do computer stuff." He talked as he gestured vaguely with his hands.

You turn your head to Mike with a curious, almost dumbfounded look. "I don't know, Mike. The Dark Web is a pretty scary place I've heard. But they have open computer science jobs?"

"Yeah, from what I could understand, it's like a job forum, I guess. They have special passwords and whatever, but if you get in, they post jobs for people to take up and work."

You couldn't help but chuckle at Mike, but you appreciated his thoughtfulness in thinking of you, so you decided to take the bait.

"Sure, you give me the info, and I'll look into it, boss man."

A few days later, you received an email from someone you guessed was Mike's buddy, David, on your day off and clicked the link that opened a new web browser to a black screen. You fiddled with the settings on your old Dell laptop while sitting cross-legged on your thrifted couch when you increased the brightness to see a small set of instructions.

"I'll be dammed." You spoke quietly as you began your journey to unlock the puzzles hidden in the code.

It took five hours to finally get to the last section that unlocked access to the Dark Web forum. Sure enough, there were jobs from all around the world posted. As quickly as your excitement grew, worry flooded over you. These were not regular hacking jobs. Some were as simple as finding passwords to ex-lovers' accounts, but others were looking for classified government data locked away behind high-security firewalls. The thought of possible jail time or worse was frightening, so you shut your laptop and went to shower before bed. That night, you couldn't sleep, primarily due to the fear of the unknown but also because some of the jobs posted had the amount of money they were offering when completed. The memory of a 10,000 dollar payout for a hacking job bounced around your mind, toying with you. It danced along in bitter-sweet harmony with the memory of the 10k scholarship you won so many years ago.

On your next day off, you entered the forum again. It was too hard to resist the temptation of a simple job paying your rent for the month. So you avoided the big, scary ones and stuck to hacking into wealthy civilian accounts. You created an online persona account that allows the clients to send money and messages as needed. You called yourself "Cookie," a play on Cookie pop-ups for advertisers to gather your online information. Soon, you grew a small following and became recognized for your impressive hacking abilities and Trojan Virus creations. You told yourself repeatedly you were only ruining wealthy people's lives. What is a million dollars stolen from a billionaire anyway? It only took eight months to pay back almost all your debts. You've paid your rent up, no more credit card bills, and you've paid $5,000 into your student loan debts. You felt on top of the world and proud of your mischievous achievements.

It had been a long shift at the bar, and you entered your tiny apartment completely exhausted. You reheated some leftovers and took your regular seat on the couch. You open your laptop to see a new message on your Dark Web account.

"Hallo, Cookie. I am very impressed by your work. Care to look at a job I think you would be perfect for?"

You stared at the message as your curiosity peaked. You click on the stranger's profile to learn more about the mysterious sender. There is no profile picture, but in a small bio, the sender had "Austria" with a cute little red and white flag. They identified themselves as male, and his username was "TheKingCol."

That's interesting, you thought. You haven't worked with many international clients thus far. Your eyes began to cross as exhaustion set in deep in your bones. So, you decided to pick back up with the stranger tomorrow after sending him a message.

"Thank you for your message; yes, I would like to speak further with you. Let's chat more tomorrow."

You woke up later than usual with the sun high in the sky, peeking through your closed curtains. You stretched your body, and after a trip to the bathroom, you returned to your laptop. A new message was waiting for you, and you clicked it open to read. It was a Word Document link with what the client needed. He needed a Trojan Virus, and it had to be discreet so that the victim downloading it wouldn't know it was a fake link.

"That's not too bad." You thought to yourself.

You had created multiple Trojans up to this point, but it helps tremendously if you know what would make the victim unsuspecting to download the disguised Trojan.

"Hello again. I received your instructions, but I would like to discuss more details needed to create the perfect Trojan you are looking for, if possible."

You sent the message and waited a few minutes before your stomach began to growl. You stood up and began to rummage through your fridge for anything you could make to resemble breakfast and settled on making two fried eggs and a buttered piece of toast.

Once you ate your food, you returned to your seat to see another message had come through.

"Ja, may I call you to discuss details?"

You stared at the email, re-reading it. You quickly googled what language is spoken in Austria, and it said that mainly German is spoken. "He must not be a native English speaker," you thought, but that shouldn't be a problem. You, however, only knew English and maybe one or two words in Spanish.

"I'm sorry, I do not make phone calls or talk to clients outside the forum." You sent the message back and waited while you took sips of coffee from your favorite mug.

"Ah, but can't you make an exception for me? I understand your concern, little maus. I see you are a woman, no? Your father taught you well not to trust strangers on the internet."

You scoffed out loud at his message, placed your mug on the coffee table in front of you, and typed him back before thinking.

"Let's be clear that my Father has never done shit for me, first of all." You instantly regretted the message sent, normally you would write messages but always caught them before you tapped the enter button. There is no way to unsend a message like on Facebook. Airing out such dirty laundry to a client was entirely uncalled for and absolutely embarrassing.

"I'm sorry, that was very unprofessional of me. Please ignore that comment." You sent another message as quickly as you could type it. A few agonizing minutes later, you received a response.

"Is that so? A woman needs a supportive father to look after her, you know. No need to apologize Liebling. Here is my phone number; please call me if you decide to proceed. I will not discuss any more details by message."

That was the last message he sent before his profile was marked as "offline."

A day later, you paced around your living room. You held your phone tightly in your right hand. There was something about what he said that stuck with you long after you read it. Why on earth did you let your daddy's issues slip through to a prospective client? Embarrassment washed over you all over again, and soon enough, the anxiety of calling a client outside the forum was an afterthought. Before you knew it, you had typed in the number and hit the green call button.

The phone connected, but on the other side of the receiver was quiet.

"Hello?" You called out. "It's um, Cookie, from the forum." A second passed before you heard a voice from the other end.

"Ah, my little maus, so happy you've finally called."

#call of duty fanfic #könig #könig x reader #cod fanfic #könig cod #cod x reader

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saturnyo · 28 days ago

Text

Call Me Castillo

Chapter 3 - That Wasn't In The Job Description

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Pairing: Harry Castillo x Reader

Summary: Such a crazy proposal that Harry has brought forth. Fake date him and get rid of anyone still talking about your failed engagement and his soured reputation in the media. Will you accept or deny his proposal?

Warnings: mentions of Y/N like once or twice, I believe, power imbalance, some fluff, etc

WC: 1.9k

A/N: I usually use Spotify for the song choice but it's acting up so bear with me on using YouTube for now until the issue is fixed

Song choice: Lose You to Love Me by Selena Gomez

youtube

From: [email protected]

To: {Redacted}

CC: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected]

Subject: A Clarification for Everyone Involved

Hey [Y/N],

I've taken a few days to process everything. After some deep reflection (and advice from my therapist, whom I hope you'll consider seeing too), I wanted to take a moment to officially and respectfully bring closure to what we had.

I know that things haven't been perfect lately, and I accept my share of the responsibility for how things turned out. I never wanted to hurt you — you're an incredible woman, intelligent, compassionate, and genuinely kind. However, I've realized that we've been growing in very different directions, and continuing to push forward with a wedding that no longer reflects where either of us is would be unfair not just to me, but to you and everyone involved.

For transparency and to avoid any confusion or rumors, I've looped in the bridal party on this email. I think it's best if everyone hears the same message directly, without distortions or misinterpretations.

To be clear: our relationship is over.

You can come by the apartment this weekend to collect your things. I've boxed up most of your stuff already — it's labeled and waiting in the foyer. Please text me when you're on the way so I can make myself scarce; I think space is the healthiest thing for both of us right now.

I know this is hard. Believe me, this wasn't easy for me either. But I hope in time, you'll understand that this is the best decision for both of us. You deserve someone who truly sees you and can meet your emotional needs in a way I simply couldn't.

No hard feelings. I still wish you the absolute best, sincerely.

Warm regards, Andrew

P.S. To everyone CC'd — please be respectful and give us both some time before reaching out. This is already hard enough without adding to the drama. Thanks for understanding.

─── ∙ ~εïз~ ∙ ──

You stared at the computer screen longer than you cared to admit. It was bad enough that the man dumped you in front of everyone at your engagement party; now he has sent you an email and CC'd the entire wedding party.

What a fucking asshole.

The day started relatively normally. You had a strange interaction with Maria and Jackie from legal, who scurried off at the sight of you when you walked into the break room. It was weird, but you ignored it and continued to get your coffee. When you got back to your office, you could hear Harry's voice through the wall talking with a business associate. He didn't know you listened out of curiosity and sometimes boredom - you couldn't help it; the walls between your office and his were thin.

You heard a ding from your email inbox, figuring it was legal; IT reminding you to change your password or even Tobias wanting to gossip about who's fucking who in the office- smiling to yourself at your best friend's antics before opening it. Your heart dropped when you saw the name and email address it was sent from, then you realized that your former wedding party bridesmaids and groomsmen, whom you had considered friends at one point, were included too.

When you thought it couldn't affect you any more than it already had, your darling ex-fiancé has decided to humiliate you more. He has a weird sense of entitlement and humility. Acting like a good person, saying he's gone to therapy, and honestly, he should have gone a long time ago.

Love or what you thought was love blinded you from his narcissistic tendencies and his annoying way of demeaning what you did for work.

"My cute little secretary," he would say as if my working for Harry Castillo was anything but an achievement.

You kept rereading the words over and over again. It was almost like a corrupted psalm, a mantra filling your head with nonsense and making you feel guilty. A distant noise buzzes in your ears, but it's irrelevant; the words jumping off the computer are all you can see.

"Y/N?...."

"Y/N!"

Harry's voice comes through the door, knocking on it, trying to get your attention.

"Yes, Mr. Castillo?" You murmured, still torn between his voice and your computer. There was no response from the other side.

You sighed. "Yes, Harry?"

You could feel his smile through the wood and wallpaper.

"I need to speak with you about the deposition."

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Deposition? I didn't know anything about that."

"It's something I've been handling myself. Can you just come over to my office for a minute?"

"Yes, Harry, I'll be right there."

His footsteps fade away as you get up, gathering your notepad and pen. When you opened the door, he was casually sitting back in his chair, hands clasped in front of him like he was waiting for you to admit a secret that he already knew.

Harry motions for you to sit down in the same chair as yesterday, waiting for him to speak about the "deposition."

"So you wanted to speak about the dispos-" you started to speak.

"That was a lie." He says, cutting you off

You raise your eyebrow. "A lie? Why would you need to lie?"

He looks at you for a moment, hesitating to tell you whatever was so important that he would lie to you to get you to come to his office. Harry had never done that before, so you were extremely curious as to why he would do something a bit out of character. Suddenly, he shifts in his seat, leaning forward closely, his face close to yours, but not uncomfortable.

"I need you to hear me out, ok?" He stops, then continues. "It's about the gala."

"Are you choosing someone else for your plus one? Or do you want to cancel your invite?"

His face goes white, making the words that just fell out of your mouth equivalent to robbing a bank.

"No. No. No, I still want you to be my plus one..."

"I feel like there is a but in there somewhere."

Harry takes a deep breath before continuing. "I think we can help each other. You know the media paints me as a womanizer and bachelor. Now with you, I'm assuming you want people to stop asking about your...failed engagement."

Your skin prickles at the memory of being left at the front of a grand ballroom, everyone's eyes on you as your fiancé, now ex, walked out the doors without so much as a goodbye and a pathetic sorry.

"Why are you bringing those two things up?" You replied.

"Well, I think we can solve both of our problems. At the gala, we should announce that we are dating."

You know the moment in a movie where the hero says something, and it just makes you stare at the screen for hours after the film has even ended?

Yeah, that is what just happened.

You looked at Harry like he was the hero in the movie, when instead of an incredible speech on defeating evil, or having to band together to defeat the oncoming forces, he said something that only a crackpot could say.

"I-i'm sorry, you said what now?" you exclaimed, your eyes almost bulging out of your head.

"I understand how that may sound, but just listen for a moment, ok? Those around us have vilified both of us, and I think that, even if it's temporary, it can give us some breathing room to at least get them off our backs."

You jumped up, abandoning any professionalism, and were dumbfounded at how he said it so casually.

"Are you kidding me? Harry, you're asking me not only to lie to our coworkers but also to the press and my mother that we're dating. Plus, you want to do it at a gala. A gala where the elite will be in attendance watching our every move, and of all places, you want to announce it there!?" You snapped.

"Y/N...please, I'm trying to help you in this situation. I know your fiancé just emailed-" he stops completely, caught in a lie he hadn't meant to reveal.

"Email? How did you know he emailed me?" You questioned. You walked over to his side of the desk, hands on hips, staring him down until he confessed. "Harry Castillo, what do you mean about the email?"

"It was flagged in the system. Look, that's not important right now. What is trying to figure out how we can convince everyone."

"Wait, wait, I haven't even agreed to the idea."

Harry didn't even flinch. His jaw ticked. The brief hint of something else passes quickly.

"It's just for a brief time. You won't be shackled to me forever. We can draft up something that's ironclad if it'll make you feel better, and we need something more than just my word." He adds that his brown eyes soften towards you, as you cannot look away.

"What else are you going to suggest now? That I move in?" You quipped.

"Tempting," he muttered with a smirk.

"Harry..."

"Look, I just...I do want to help. I hate to see you being leered at everywhere you go in the office. If i had my way everyone would be fired-well monies your friend Tobias" he said, voice softening.

His words settle in, taking your breath away. Harry has always been kind, but this? This is different. You breathe in and out before speaking. You know it's probably a bad idea, but if you agree, your life won't be the same.

"I'm assuming that we'll have to do a couple...stuff like holding hands and...kissing." You said, blushing.

Harry shifts in his seat once more, almost uncomfortable under your intense stare. The idea itself was crazy, impossible even. You know Harry extremely well, not only having worked with him for two years, but you have also practically scheduled his entire life.

The question is, does he know you?

"Look, this isn't how I imagined asking you." He said quietly. "I mean, I didn't think about asking you something like this at all."

He pauses, then meets your gaze again, soft and vulnerable.

"But the truth is, I'm tired. Tired of the way the media paints me as some womanizer. In reality, I keep myself busy whenever I'm not at work or other functions, as you know. It's strange, yes...But I still think it can help us."

He lets the words hang between you, his fingers tapping on the desk. Not in annoyance but curiosity.

"So what do you say?"

─── ∙ ~εïз~ ∙ ──

So what do you say?

His voice is a constant reminder of what you just agreed to. A deal. A contract. You two made a 3-month agreement to fake date, starting at the gala, to avoid further negative press and gossip about your failed engagement.

"So what do you say?"

Not even a beat passes.

"Yes."

The hallway leading to the elevator felt like time was moving slowly. Your legs felt heavy like cinder blocks, dragging behind you. The rest of the day went by without a hitch. Harry had meetings to attend to all day, so you were left to your own devices. As you sat in your office, you kept thinking it was a mistake and considered telling him that it was off when he got back.

But another part of you, the hurt part, wanted to get back at your ex, so you are starting to move on just as quickly as he did, if any of his Instagram posts were true.

During your break, you couldn't help but check it. It's where you saw a post of him with a girl you don't recognize.

You and he had only separated a week prior.

Later that night, when you were sitting on your couch eating some leftovers, you heard your doorbell. It's probably something your mother sent or a salesman going door-to-door.

You didn't expect to see a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a bottle of your favorite wine.

There was a note attached to it.

Y/N...

I know our "relationship" is just an agreement, but you still deserve to be treated correctly.

I hope you enjoy them.

-Harry

It seems the big, bad Harry Castillo has a heart after all.

#harry castillo fanfiction #harry castillo fic #harry castillo x you #harry castillo smut #harry castillo #the materialists #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedroispunk #pedro pascal #pedro x reader #zaddy pedro #pedrohub #pascalispunk #Spotify #Youtube

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amalgamasreal · 5 months ago

Text

Updated Personal Infosec Post

Been awhile since I've had one of these posts part deus: but I figure with all that's going on in the world it's time to make another one and get some stuff out there for people. A lot of the information I'm going to go over you can find here:

https://www.privacyguides.org/en/tools/

So if you'd like to just click the link and ignore the rest of the post that's fine, I strongly recommend checking out the Privacy Guides. Browsers: There's a number to go with but for this post going forward I'm going to recommend Firefox. I know that the Privacy Guides lists Brave and Safari as possible options but Brave is Chrome based now and Safari has ties to Apple. Mullvad is also an option but that's for your more experienced users so I'll leave that up to them to work out. Browser Extensions:

uBlock Origin: content blocker that blocks ads, trackers, and fingerprinting scripts. Notable for being the only ad blocker that still works on Youtube.

Privacy Badger: Content blocker that specifically blocks trackers and fingerprinting scripts. This one will catch things that uBlock doesn't catch but does not work for ads.

Facebook Container: "but I don't have facebook" you might say. Doesn't matter, Meta/Facebook still has trackers out there in EVERYTHING and this containerizes them off away from everything else.

Bitwarden: Password vaulting software, don't trust the password saving features of your browsers, this has multiple layers of security to prevent your passwords from being stolen.

ClearURLs: Allows you to copy and paste URL's without any trackers attached to them.

VPN: Note: VPN software doesn't make you anonymous, no matter what your favorite youtuber tells you, but it does make it harder for your data to be tracked and it makes it less open for whatever public network you're presently connected to.

Mozilla VPN: If you get the annual subscription it's ~$60/year and it comes with an extension that you can install into Firefox.

Mullvad VPN: Is a fast and inexpensive VPN with a serious focus on transparency and security. They have been in operation since 2009. Mullvad is based in Sweden and offers a 30-day money-back guarantee for payment methods that allow it.

Email Provider: Note: By now you've probably realized that Gmail, Outlook, and basically all of the major "free" e-mail service providers are scraping your e-mail data to use for ad data. There are more secure services that can get you away from that but if you'd like the same storage levels you have on Gmail/Ol utlook.com you'll need to pay.

Tuta: Secure, end-to-end encrypted, been around a very long time, and offers a free option up to 1gb.

Mailbox.org: Is an email service with a focus on being secure, ad-free, and privately powered by 100% eco-friendly energy. They have been in operation since 2014. Mailbox.org is based in Berlin, Germany. Accounts start with up to 2GB storage, which can be upgraded as needed.

Email Client:

Thunderbird: a free, open-source, cross-platform email, newsgroup, news feed, and chat (XMPP, IRC, Matrix) client developed by the Thunderbird community, and previously by the Mozilla Foundation.

FairMail (Android Only): minimal, open-source email app which uses open standards (IMAP, SMTP, OpenPGP), has several out of the box privacy features, and minimizes data and battery usage.

Cloud Storage:

Tresorit: Encrypted cloud storage owned by the national postal service of Switzerland. Received MULTIPLE awards for their security stats.

Peergos: decentralized and open-source, allows for you to set up your own cloud storage, but will require a certain level of expertise.

Microsoft Office Replacements:

LibreOffice: free and open-source, updates regularly, and has the majority of the same functions as base level Microsoft Office.

OnlyOffice: cloud-based, free

FreeOffice: Personal licenses are free, probably the closest to a fully office suite replacement.

Chat Clients: Note: As you've heard SMS and even WhatsApp and some other popular chat clients are basically open season right now. These are a couple of options to replace those. Note2: Signal has had some reports of security flaws, the service it was built on was originally built for the US Government, and it is based within the CONUS thus is susceptible to US subpoenas. Take that as you will.

Signal: Provides IM and calling securely and encrypted, has multiple layers of data hardening to prevent intrusion and exfil of data.

Molly (Android OS only): Alternative client to Signal. Routes communications through the TOR Network.

Briar: Encrypted IM client that connects to other clients through the TOR Network, can also chat via wifi or bluetooth.

SimpleX: Truly anonymous account creation, fully encrypted end to end, available for Android and iOS.

Now for the last bit, I know that the majority of people are on Windows or macOS, but if you can get on Linux I would strongly recommend it. pop_OS, Ubuntu, and Mint are super easy distros to use and install. They all have very easy to follow instructions on how to install them on your PC and if you'd like to just test them out all you need is a thumb drive to boot off of to run in demo mode. For more secure distributions for the more advanced users the options are: Whonix, Tails (Live USB only), and Qubes OS.

On a personal note I use Arch Linux, but I WOULD NOT recommend this be anyone's first distro as it requires at least a base level understanding of Linux and liberal use of the Arch Linux Wiki. If you game through Steam their Proton emulator in compatibility mode works wonders, I'm presently playing a major studio game that released in 2024 with no Linux support on it and once I got my drivers installed it's looked great. There are some learning curves to get around, but the benefit of the Linux community is that there's always people out there willing to help. I hope some of this information helps you and look out for yourself, it's starting to look scarier than normal out there.

#infosec #personal information #personal infosec #info sec #firefox #mullvad #vpn #vpn service #linux #linux tails #pop_os #ubuntu #linux mint #long post #whonix #qubes os #arch linux

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