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hazelfoureyes · 9 months ago

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The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)

I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.

It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time

tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b

When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.

It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆

Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!

I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.

The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.

Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.

And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.

“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.

“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”

“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.

Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”

“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”

Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”

Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.

Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”

“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.

“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”

Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”

Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”

Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.

What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.

“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.

“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”

He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.

"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.

“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."

Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”

“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”

He sighed, “I’m not.”

Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”

He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”

“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.

Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.

With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.

With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.

His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.

His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”

This is ridiculous.

Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.

Nothing.

"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.

He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.

He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.

Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.

After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.

So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.

It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.

Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.

In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.

But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.

Still.

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.

He held his breath, unconsciously.

With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.

"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."

Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.

Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.

"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.

But today, they were soft and out of focus.

"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.

"Am I dreaming?"

He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."

"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"

Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.

Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.

"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."

He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"

You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.

"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.

A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.

“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.

“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.

You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”

His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.

"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.

"When was your last time, mon cher?"

Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."

"You're in hell now."

"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.

"Look at me."

Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.

With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.

Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.

He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?

Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.

He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."

Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.

He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.

A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.

"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.

He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.

No.

Not enough.

Too soon.

A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.

He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.

When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.

Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.

He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.

"My doe?"

Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"

"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."

The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.

"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.

Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"

Suddenly, silence.

The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"

"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.

"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.

"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"

Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.

"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"

"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."

"Yet..." She cocked her brow.

"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."

Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"

"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.

She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"

His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."

He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.

But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?

"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."

Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.

For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.

To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.

He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.

Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.

The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.

One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.

You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.

And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.

Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.

He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.

When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”

༻Masterlist༺

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years ago

Text

When Facebook came for your battery, feudal security failed

When George Hayward was working as a Facebook data-scientist, his bosses ordered him to run a “negative test,” updating Facebook Messenger to deliberately drain users’ batteries, in order to determine how power-hungry various parts of the apps were. Hayward refused, and Facebook fired him, and he sued:

https://nypost.com/2023/01/28/facebook-fires-worker-who-refused-to-do-negative-testing-awsuit/

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/2023/02/05/battery-vampire/#drained

Hayward balked because he knew that among the 1.3 billion people who use Messenger, some would be placed in harm’s way if Facebook deliberately drained their batteries — physically stranded, unable to communicate with loved ones experiencing emergencies, or locked out of their identification, payment method, and all the other functions filled by mobile phones.

As Hayward told Kathianne Boniello at the New York Post, “Any data scientist worth his or her salt will know, ‘Don’t hurt people…’ I refused to do this test. It turns out if you tell your boss, ‘No, that’s illegal,’ it doesn’t go over very well.”

Negative testing is standard practice at Facebook, and Hayward was given a document called “How to run thoughtful negative tests” regarding which he said, “I have never seen a more horrible document in my career.”

We don’t know much else, because Hayward’s employment contract included a non-negotiable binding arbitration waiver, which means that he surrendered his right to seek legal redress from his former employer. Instead, his claim will be heard by an arbitrator — that is, a fake corporate judge who is paid by Facebook to decide if Facebook was wrong. Even if he finds in Hayward’s favor — something that arbitrators do far less frequently than real judges do — the judgment, and all the information that led up to it, will be confidential, meaning we won’t get to find out more:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/12/hot-coffee/#mcgeico

One significant element of this story is that the malicious code was inserted into Facebook’s app. Apps, we’re told, are more secure than real software. Under the “curated computing” model, you forfeit your right to decide what programs run on your devices, and the manufacturer keeps you safe. But in practice, apps are just software, only worse:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/23/peek-a-boo/#attack-helicopter-parenting

Apps are part what Bruce Schneier calls “feudal security.” In this model, we defend ourselves against the bandits who roam the internet by moving into a warlord’s fortress. So long as we do what the warlord tells us to do, his hired mercenaries will keep us safe from the bandits:

https://locusmag.com/2021/01/cory-doctorow-neofeudalism-and-the-digital-manor/

But in practice, the mercenaries aren’t all that good at their jobs. They let all kinds of badware into the fortress, like the “pig butchering” apps that snuck into the two major mobile app stores:

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2023/02/pig-butchering-scam-apps-sneak-into-apples-app-store-and-google-play/

It’s not merely that the app stores’ masters make mistakes — it’s that when they screw up, we have no recourse. You can’t switch to an app store that pays closer attention, or that lets you install low-level software that monitors and overrides the apps you download.

Indeed, Apple’s Developer Agreement bans apps that violate other services’ terms of service, and they’ve blocked apps like OG App that block Facebook’s surveillance and other enshittification measures, siding with Facebook against Apple device owners who assert the right to control how they interact with the company:

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

When a company insists that you must be rendered helpless as a condition of protecting you, it sets itself up for ghastly failures. Apple’s decision to prevent every one of its Chinese users from overriding its decisions led inevitably and foreseeably to the Chinese government ordering Apple to spy on those users:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/11/foreseeable-consequences/#airdropped

Apple isn’t shy about thwarting Facebook’s business plans, but Apple uses that power selectively — they blocked Facebook from spying on Iphone users (yay!) and Apple covertly spied on its customers in exactly the same way as Facebook, for exactly the same purpose, and lied about it:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

The ultimately, irresolvable problem of Feudal Security is that the warlord’s mercenaries will protect you against anyone — except the warlord who pays them. When Apple or Google or Facebook decides to attack its users, the company’s security experts will bend their efforts to preventing those users from defending themselves, turning the fortress into a prison:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/20/benevolent-dictators/#felony-contempt-of-business-model

Feudal security leaves us at the mercy of giant corporations — fallible and just as vulnerable to temptation as any of us. Both binding arbitration and feudal security assume that the benevolent dictator will always be benevolent, and never make a mistake. Time and again, these assumptions are proven to be nonsense.

Image: Anthony Quintano (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mark_Zuckerberg_F8_2018_Keynote_%2841118890174%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[Image ID: A painting depicting the Roman sacking of Jerusalem. The Roman leader's head has been replaced with Mark Zuckerberg's head. The wall has Apple's 'Think Different' wordmark and an Ios 'low battery' icon.]

Next week (Feb 8-17), I'll be in Australia, touring my book *Chokepoint Capitalism* with my co-author, Rebecca Giblin. We'll be in Brisbane on Feb 8, and then we're doing a remote event for NZ on Feb 9. Next is Melbourne, Sydney and Canberra. I hope to see you!

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

#pluralistic #manorial security #feudal security #apple #mobile #apps #security through obscurity #binding arbitration #arbitration waivers #transparency #danegeld #surveillance lag

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herlv3r · 9 months ago

Text

tip toe

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.

୨୧ synopsis: as le sserafim’s comeback had just released, your girlfriend is extremely busy with promotions and is under strict supervision. her managers have clearly warned you to stay away for the time being, but is that really going to stop you?

୨୧ pairing: gf!chaewon x fem!reader

୨୧ genre: fluff

୨୧ a/n: stream fimmies new mini album or else i WILL hunt you down

you grip on your fimbong as anticipation builds up in you like you’re about to explode. sitting in front of your tv, the screen counts down from its final minute. as the countdown nears its end, you can’t help but to stand up, adrenaline filling your veins.

even though your girlfriend already spoiled you their new song, you can’t help the excitement as if you’re hearing it for the first time all over again.

memories begin rushing in from when she first auditioned for woollim entertainment, then her time with izone, and finally le sserafim. you were there with her every step of the way. to say how proud you are is really an understatement.

your eyes gleam seeing chaewon’s outstanding visuals. and hearing her sing through the screen blesses your ears. how’d you get so lucky with her?

your phone rings violently as a call from chaewon comes through. answering it, a soft voice warms your ears.

“babe did you watch?!?” excitement is evident in her tone. you giggle at her question when it’s obvious you did. “of course i did! i wouldn’t miss even a second of it.”

you hear her small laugh amidst the busy background. “okay i gotta prepare for the showcase. i love you and i miss you.” your stomach fills with butterflies hearing those words escape her mouth. “good luck! i’ll be cheering for you.”

every comeback is always filled with busy schedules and strict rules. you can’t even remember the last time you’ve held her in your arms. you know dating a kpop idol comes with an unspoken requirement of being patient but you long for her.

the last time you attempted to see her during promotions got you banned from stepping in their dorms. as much as you want to see her, you have to do what’s best for your girlfriend.

hours past since the showcase and you haven’t heard anything from chaewon ever since. slumping in your seat, your brows drew together thinking heavily on what she could be doing at the moment.

suddenly a text notification causes your phone to vibrate. “i want to see you. pick me up at my dorm?” that burst of adrenaline comes rushing back to you, as you read word by word. excitedly getting up and gathering everything you need, you rush out the door without looking back.

who cares if you get banned again, it's worth the risk. after all, it's her personal request. how can you pass on something like that?

pulling up to her dorm, you hurriedly park and skipped your way to her room. once reaching her floor, you make eye contact with chaewon, her eyes widen in shock. the dumb smile on your face is quickly replaced with a terrified expression after realizing she's talking to her manager.

making the fastest u-turn in your life, you rush back down the stairs nearly tripping in the process. panting for air, you arrive back at the lobby searching for a place to hide.

several minutes past and you've finally calmed down. that was a close call you thought. as you slowly peek over your hiding place, a hard slap stings your head. looking back to see who it was, you're met with chewon glaring down at you. without saying a word, the expression on her face clearly says, "you're such a dumbass."

swiftly standing up, you engulf her in your arms as you squeeze the air out of her. "chaechae i missed you!!" in response, she pinches your waist causing you to squeal and back away.

attempting to rub the pain away, you look at her in confusion. why is she so violent today? has she finally lost it?

"god that was a close call. if my manager saw you first then our whole sneaking out plan is over." you swear you can see steam escaping from the top of her head as she complains.

tilting your head down, a sly smile forms on your lips. "but he didn't see me, so it's all good." she scoffs at you, rolling her eyes and taking your hand in hers. "come on let's go before we get caught." she drags you behind her as she sneakily makes her way back to your car.

you've been aimlessly driving for the past couple of minutes, unsure if chaewon even notices. you weren't expecting a spontaneous hang out today, so you were severely unprepared.

you're terrible at hiding things from her especially with the occasional side eyes you've been giving. she eventually catches on to you.

"how about a convenience store run, just like old times?" pursing your lips you glance at her as if you already had that thought. "pfft, yeah i was already heading there."

"but you just missed the turn..." staring at you, she furrows her eyebrows. "babe i can't see, it's dark out here." out of habit she smacks your arm causing you to swerve a little bit. too busy laughing uncontrollably to even notice.

arriving at the parking lot, you instruct chaewon to stay in the car hoping to avoid any unwanted attention.

walking in the store, you can't help but feel a little guilty. it's such a big day for chaewon but the only thing you can give her is cheap food. still, it's no excuse to not try to make the best out of the night.

making your way down several isles you surprisingly bump into chaewon already picking out items. stopping in your tracks, you cross your arms and tap your feet in disbelief. you cough deliberately, attempting to gain her attention.

"pfft, what?" she doesn't even bother looking at you. "what do you mean, 'what'?" slowly approaching her, you snatch the kimbap she was holding. quickly turning her head, she raises a brow.

"babe you're such a hypocrite. you got mad at me earlier for almost getting caught but look at you now." she snatches the kimbap back from your grasp. "it's okay, i'm covered up good."

finally acknowledging your disappointed look, she squeezes your cheeks. "baby i'm sorry. i'll be careful." giving in to her soft touch, you let it slide. how can you possibly get mad at her?

luckily you were able to leave without anyone recognizing your girlfriend. you wouldn't know what to do if someone did.

getting in the drivers seat, you're hit with realization of not knowing where to go next. resting your head on the steering wheel, you release an exasperated sigh as you struggle to think of a destination.

"make a right turn and take the next exit."

shooting your head up, you stare at the gps. confused as to why it spoke. your gaze shifts back and forth between chaewon and the route displayed on the car's screen, wondering if she had anything to do with it.

chaewon smiles as she comfortably sinks in her seat, "just drive baby." you study her expression, suspicious of her little scheme. "mhm... should i trust you?" the blank expression sitting on her face hints at you to just go without question. you nod in defeat and turned on the engine.

for what seemed like 30 minutes, you're starting to doubt your gps when it leads you to an isolated road. the only source of light that's surrounding you is the brightness of your headlights. it's like you're in a horror movie where you encounter an eerie girl standing on the side of the road.

an uneasy feeling in your stomach begins to stir just by thinking about it. you quickly glace at chaewon whose face is as pale as snow. "you good? you don't usually look as white." she grips on to her thighs and swallows hard. "why wouldn't i be? hehe..."

you knew what she felt at the moment. she's scared shitless. your heart starts to beat . "hey you can't be scared?! because i'm scared... we can't both be scared!"

her grasp transfers from her thigh to your shirt. "girl, just drive!" you immediately step on the gas without a second thought.

"you have arrived. your destination should be on the left." pulling up to a secluded area, a single bench facing a cliff sits under a soft lit lamp post. not creepy at all...

"welp, ladies first," you laugh awkwardly as you unlock the doors. she shook her head in disagreement. "what, you can't do that! you took me here." you lifted an eyebrow and crossed your arms.

"don't make me go out there first, please baby," the look in chaewon’s eyes has you completely entranced. heat rushes to your face, staining it red. it took you a moment to form a response. “you’re a coward,” you murmured.

you push your car door open and hopped out. stepping foot on the rocky ground, the cool evening breeze sends shivers down your spine. you felt vulnerable being outside the walls of your car. in a snap you hurriedly ran to the other side to open the door for your girlfriend.

chaewon steps out and gently pats your cheeks as a thanks. “okay come with me.” she interlocks your fingers, leaving you no choice but to follow.

as you slowly approach the edge of the cliff, the view of the city lights comes into sight, leaving you mesmerized. who knew such a place existed that overlooks the city. chaewon lets go of your hand, letting you take in the scenery.

gawking for too long, you didn’t even notice the feeling of fear had completely washed away. discovering chaewon’s slipped away from your side, you promptly turned around only to see her resting on the bench behind you. she pats the empty space beside her gesturing you to sit down.

“so how’d you know about this place?” you drop your weight on the old wooden material. chaewon shifts closer to you and rests her head on your shoulder.

“i used to come here a lot with my grandma. we’d clear our heads and just talk.” you’re left speechless as you figure out where this is heading. “i wanted to share it with you for awhile now.” your heart softens at her words, realizing you occupy a special place in her heart.

you chuckle as you start playing with her hair, "thank you."

you both sit in comfortable silence just admiring the night sky. after a short while, you felt chaewon's grip on your hand loosen. turning your head to look at her, her eyes completely closed as her chest rises and falls.

looking at the time, it's nearing 1 in the morning. she must be exhausted after such a busy day. you can't even imagine what she'll have to go through later.

you lightly squeeze her, attempting to not startle her. "baby let's take you home yeah?" she groans in response with her eyes still glued shut.

crouching down, you force her to get on your back. you carried her back to the car and gently placed her in the passenger seat. you slowly walked back to the drivers side, taking in the view one last time. bringing her back here for your anniversary would be lovely, you thought.

as you comfortably sunk in your seat, you removed your jacket and wrapped it around chaewon's small figure. she shifts in her spot, turning in your direction giving you a tired smile.

"i'm sorry, did i wake you?" you rub her cheek with your thumb. she timidly shakes her head no.

"if i had known you'd take me here, i would've prepared much more." she chuckles at your statement. "don't be silly, being here with you is more than enough." shutting her eyes again, she falls back asleep. releasing a satisfied hum, you start the engine once again.

the streetlights illuminated the quiet streets and cars sat empty in parking lots. parking in front of her building, you sat there admiring how peaceful and cute she looked.

you shook her softly, "chaewonie we’re here." she yawns heavily and stretches in her seat. rubbing her cheeks, she slowly opens her eyes taking in her surroundings. taking hold of her soft hand, you walk her inside.

arriving at her front door, she turns to you with her head down. "i don't want you to leave... stay with me a little longer?" she tightly clutches on the hem of your shirt. "please?"

without warning, the door bursts open revealing a fully awake eunchae. she looks at you and chaewon cringing. "damn guys it's late. wrap it up please."

"isn't it past your bed time?" chaewon lifts a brow. eunchae crosses her arms as she leans against the door frame. "do you want me to rat you out."

chaewon's eyes widen at eunchae's response. lifting a fist in the air, she makes a threatening gesture. "i'm your leader, you can't tell me what to do." she pushes eunchae back inside, shutting the door at her face.

rubbing your eyes, you can't help but laugh at their interaction. "what's so funny?" she nudges you. tucking her hair behind her ear, you sigh in contentment. "you're so cute, you know that?" she shyly giggles at your compliment.

wrapping her arms around your waist, she pulls you into her embrace. "well you better go in before she comes back out." moving her hands from your waist to your neck, she brings you in and pecks your lips.

a stupid grin forms on the corner of your lip, "do it again." she laughs at your request. connecting your lips once again, it lasts longer this time. her hands explore your back, drawing you even closer. this is what you longed for.

"maybe i should stay for a bit," you whisper into the kiss. pulling away chuckling, she punches your shoulder. "shut up and go home."

opening the door, she finds eunchae waiting, mocking her with kissy faces. "omg eunchae! didn't i tell you to go to sleep?!" you can hear eunchae hysterically laughing on the other side as she makes a run for her room.

your girlfriend turns back to you, pinching the bridge of her nose. "ugh, kids..."

"text me when you get home and as soon as you wake up. i love you and drive safe. good night my lover girl~" peeking throught the small gap of her door she gives you a cheeky smile.

"i love you too. good night~" leaning in, you shut the door for her.

#le sserafim #le sserafim x reader #kim chaewon #kim chaewon x reader #wlw #kpop #kim chaewon imagines #le sserafim imagines #lsrfm #gxg fluff #gxg scenarios #kpop fanfic

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ghostboneswrites2 · 9 months ago

Text

Silent Night || One Shot

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!

Request from my old blog: "I was wondering if you could to a little thing of daryl and a female mute reader? If you can, maybe selective mutism, so there can be some trust building themes and things! Just fluff, and two idiots in love"

Summary: You get stuck in a cabin overnight with Daryl. He tries to get to know you. Lots of trust building and cute bonding.

18+MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, sad backstory, TW: child loss, mostly cute

Daryl lit the fire in the old fireplace, rubbing his hands together and holding them out to soak up the heat. It was dark and rather chilly with the roaring storm outside. It had blown in fast, and the torrential downpour was too much to drive in. With slow squeaky windshield wipers and dim headlights that desperately needed replacing, there was no other option. Daryl pulled over to the first cabin he saw and rushed you inside, leaving the two of you to spend the night in an old dusty cabin that smelled like mildew and aged wood.

"Should start warmin' up in a bit." He told you, standing up and looking around. He didn't bother waiting for a response, you wouldn't have anything to say. Nobody had ever heard you talk. I mean, sure, people did when yo were younger, before the turn. You weren't deaf like Connie. You thought it was probably just a trauma response. The day you came home to find your fiancé hunched over your two year old daughter, blood pooling on the ground... You could just never bring yourself to speak after that. When you heard your voice, you heard goofy laughs with your baby, sweet talks in bed with your man, phone calls with family and friends. Nowadays there was never anything worth talking about. Every time you tried to speak you were flooded with sweet memories and clouded by the terrible image of your undead lover eating your baby, your world. It was like this large painful lump in your throat had made a home there and prevented any sound from coming out.

Nobody actually even knew your name. You never told them. They usually just called you Jane, as in Jane Doe. Daryl didn't mind you at all, though. In fact, he was quite fond of you. You were pretty, you could hold your own, and you were also... pretty. So pretty. He couldn't keep his eyes off you some days. He was never sure if you noticed, and you really didn't. That was really only because you tried your best not to look at him. You were helplessly attracted to him, so anything to avoid giving that away, you did.

"Still got them bars in your bag?" He asked you, referring to the protein bars Carol sent you with. You opened your bag and tossed him one, opening another one for yourself.

The two of you ate in silence. He tossed you a water bottle from his own bag, and you drank.

Then, it was just the two of you, left to occupy yourselves. He spent an hour or so sharpening arrows and tweaking bits and pieces on his bow. You mostly just laid on the couch and picked at your nails, or scabs, or stared up at the ceiling, watching the spiders in their webs.

His mind was plagued with questions. Every time he was alone with you he found himself wondering the same things. Where were you from? What was your story? Why didn't you speak? What was your name?

He got frustrated with he lack of answers or anything else to stimulate his mind and distract him. He sighed and pushed himself back and forth in the old dingy rocking chair.

"Need to find you a notepad or somethin' like Connie has." He spoke.

You looked over at him.

"Just sayin', silence is deafening, y'know?"

You just looked back up at the ceiling.

"What about.. Okay." He sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. You looked back at him. "What if I asked you... yes or no questions. You can just nod or shake your head." He sounded hopeful and bored. You almost wanted to laugh at his eagerness, like a little kid trying to get his grandpa to tell him stories from the war.

You didn't answer, because, of course not, but you just watched him curiously, not giving any indication of refusal.

"Alright. Do you like fishing?"

You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Right. You don't fish." He nodded. "Stupid question. What about.. Okay. Have you ever talked?"

You gave a single nod after a moment of deciding if you want to tell him that or not.

"Do you know why you stopped?"

The question was like a dagger in your chest. You decided you didn't wanna play anymore. You just sighed and turned your attention back to the ceiling.

He didn't press further. He just stood up and started to wander, checking all the cabinets in the kitchen for anything useful. He found one thing, a can of Spam.

"You like Spam?" He asked, walking back into the living room. You glanced over at him and shook your head. You weren't hungry. He shrugged. "Suit yourself." He said as he dug into the canned meat.

"Y'know, I had a friend. Her name was Beth. She died, and uh, I didn't talk much after that. It was hard to. Like my throat got all tight every time I tried." He said. "It took a while, but I got through it."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to relate, hoping you'd open up some. You wished it was that easy, you really did. It was miserable having all these thoughts, needs, desires, and no way to express them.

You knew you could speak, if you really wanted to. The problem was that you had never wanted to work hard enough to get past the lump.

"You, uh, you're really no fun at sleepovers. Y'know that?"

Silence. He waited a while. He wondered if he could make you laugh. He couldn't recall ever seeing you give more than a smile. He remembered the story he told Andrea all those years ago, and how it made her laugh.

"Y'know, this one time when I was a kid. I got lost in the woods. I'm talkin' days, right. So, I gotta use the bathroom at some point. I wiped with leaves, cause I didn't have toilet paper or nothin', and turned out, it was poison ivy. I made it home eventually. Ass itched somethin' serious. I'm talkin' pullin' my underwear 'til the wedgie was so bad it gave me rug burn. Tried everything. Even took a fork outta the kitchen and tried that. Nothin' helped."

You were watching him now, grinning. A fork? Really? You wanted to ask if he threw it away or left it to get washed and used. He admired your smile for some time, before it faded. At least he got that.

"My brother was in juvie back then. Dad wasn't around either. Did I ever tell ya about the time Merle got crabs?"

You shook your head,

"Well, he came home one night from the bar. Passed out. Next day he couldn't stop itchin'. Come to find out, there were little bugs crawlin' around in his pubes."

You frowned in disgust.

"Anyways, tried to tell the dumb son of a bitch to just shave 'em off, but he didn't wanna so I had to ride with him to the free clinic to get some kinda dick shampoo. Turns out he slept with the same girl like three more times. Kept goin' back to her 'til the shampoo ran out. Guess he figured it didn't matter if he could keep washin' 'em out."

You looked mortified.

"Yeah, guess that wasn't funny." He agreed. "He was a nasty son of a bitch."

You raised your eyebrows and nodded in agreement.

"I see you hang around Connie a lot. She ever teach you any sign language?"

You shook your head.

"I got a book back home if ya want it."

You shrugged. Could be nice to communicate again.

"Looks like ya need new shoes." He commented, nodding to your feet propped up on the arm of the couch. The rubber soles were starting to detach from the shoe itself. You nodded. "Wanna stop somewhere and look?"

You thought for a moment, nodding and shrugging at the same time, as if to say, 'Why not?'

He sat back down in the rocking chair and rested his head back. He wasn't tired really. It wasn't even that late. The rain just made it seem darker than it was. He listened to the crackling fire and the windy storm outside, the occasional thunder booming around.

He looked down at you. You seemed just as restless.

"Wish I knew more about ya." He admitted.

Usually he wouldn't be so forward with a pretty girl, but your constant silence made him feel like he was just talking to himself. He didn't have to worry about your reaction, though he often wondered what you thought of him.

You looked at him again, curiously.

You glanced around the room for anything you could use to tell him something about you. It could be like a game of charades.

You noticed a map on the wall and walked over to it, pulling the large frame off the nail and walking over to him. You placed your finger on your home state to show him.

"That's where you're from?"

You nodded, a small, sad smile on your lips.

"I'm from Georgia." He said. You gave an acknowledging nod.

"Ever been to any other states?"

You dragged your finger from your home state to Virginia, showing him you had only been through the states that led you to wind up as one of the Saviors. Of course, you weren't one of Negan's fighters, you were just a maid on the cleanup crew. He had actually seen you a few times during his captivity at The Sanctuary. You almost looked as miserable as him.

"Mm." He nodded with understanding.

You set the map on the coffee table and walked around the room, looking for anything else to use as a clue. Your eye caught on a little pink bow, the kind with an elastic band that would go around a baby's head. You picked it up, eyes watering as you ran your fingers over it. You turned back to him and walked back to where he sat, holding it out to show him.

"Ya like pink?" He asked, not quite understanding. You shook your head, trying to think of a better way to explain. Then you remembered the horizontal scar over your lower abdomen. You had your daughter via C-section.

You lifted your shirt and pulled the waist of your jeans down slightly to expose the scar. You held the bow up again, then pointed at the scar.

"Oh." He said lowly. "You had a daughter?"

You nodded, still teary eyed. You took the bow to your bag, concealing it in one of the zipper pockets. You had run out of the house horrified on that awful day. You had no time to grab a memento for her, so that bow would have to serve as one.

"I'm sorry." He told you. You just nodded in place of a thanks, wiping the tears away. You continued your search around the little cabin for clues. It was kind of fun, albeit painful. It was like a game.

You took a little longer this time on your search, until you found a phone book. You took it and flipped open a page and walked back to him. This time he was standing up.

You held the book open so that he could see it, and pointed to two individual digits.

�� "That's how old you are?"

You nodded.

"Is your name in there?"

You shrugged and set the book down, reasoning that it'd be too much work to find it in all those pages.

"So, you're (age), you had a daughter, and you're from (state)?"

You nodded and smiled. This was the most you had communicated with anyone in years. It was nice.

"Cool." He nodded with a small half smile. "You hungry?"

You shook your head no.

"Thirsty?"

You waved your hand to say kind of.

"I found some tequila in the kitchen."

You raised your eyebrows. Now that was temptation if you ever saw it. Tequila was a luxury you hadn't come across in, well, you didn't even know how long. You nodded giddily and he huffed a silent chuckle, shaking his head as he walked into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of clear, liquid joy. You rushed over and grabbed it from him, twisting off the cap and taking a swig. You made a dramatic face as you shook your head. God, you didn't remember the burn being that bad.

"Easy, tiger." He teased as he took the bottle and had some for himself.

You smiled at him as he handed it back, the two of you taking turns until you felt that alcoholic heat in your ears and cheeks.

"You like tequila?"

You shurgged.

"Just like drinkin'?"

You nodded.

"Good to know. If we don't finish this off we can bring it back for ya."

You nodded and grinned. It was cute how happy you got over a simple drink, but he guessed with so little means of communication, anything was nice to take the edge off. He wondered if you felt lonely, like he often did. His was from a place of feeling misunderstood, though. Maybe it wasn't so different than being mute.

"Is it hard?" He asked, taking a seat in the rocking chair as you sat on the coffee table just a foot away.

You tilted your head inquisitively.

"I mean, not bein' able to talk to nobody." He clarified.

You nodded truthfully, looking down at the floor as you grabbed the bottle from him.

"Do ya remember what your voice sounds like?"

You thought for a moment. Of course you did, that was what made it so hard. Your voice was linked to memories that you couldn't bare.

You nodded.

"Maybe I'll hear it one day."

You smiled sweetly before you took a swig and passed the bottle back, nodding. Maybe he would.

"Something on the bottle caught your eye, a little sticker stuck to the bottom. You reached over and peeled it off as he tipped it back to take a drink. It was a simple yellow smiley face. You smirked and waited for him to put the bottle down before you reached over and stuck it to his nose.

"The hell?" He grumbled, peeling it off and looking down at it. You couldn't help the silent giggle, your shoulders rising and falling as you scrunched your nose. The little sticker just contrasted his dark, serious exterior too well.

He noticed your silent laugh and stuck it back to his nose, smiling a little at your amusement. You reached for the bottle and had some more before you passed it back.

"Y'think that's funny, huh?"

You nodded, still grinning. He swished the drink around in his hand, staring at it thoughtfully. He had learned more about you in a couple of hours than anyone probably had in the years you'd been around. Still, it wasn't enough. He was greedy and he wanted more.

He glanced around the room, the fire growing smaller making it fairly dim. He noticed a little banjo off in the corner near the couch.

"Ya like music?"

You nodded.

"Rick, too. Always playin' the worst CDs he can find. Makes my ears bleed." He complained. "What about like.. drawin' or anything. Got any hobbies?"

You shrugged. Before, you mostly just liked being a mom and watching your favorite shows. Now, you really only worked to survive, so what hobbies were there really?

"What about church? You like that kinda thing?"

You shook your head.

"Yeah me neither. Never believed in it much."

You nodded in agreement.

"My mom did, though. Liked to read the bible. She died. When I was a kid."

You placed a hand on his knee, letting him know you empathized.

"Yeah. Dad was a real ass, too. Merle was all I had and he wasn't around all that much."

You gave a sad, thin smile.

"What about you? You had both parents?"

You nodded.

"Brothers? Sisters?"

You shook your head. You were an only child.

"Consider yourself lucky." He joked. You nodded. "Pets? Did ya have any?"

You nodded.

"Cat?"

You shook your head.

"Dog?"

You held up the number two with your fingers.

"Always wanted a dog."

You smiled. You loved your dogs.

"Ya miss 'em? The dogs."

You nodded.

He yawned.

"Ya tired yet or ya wanna keep goin'?"

You shrugged.

He passed you the bottle and stood up, ruffling your hair a little. You swatted his hand playfully and took a drink.

"Gon' make sure the doors are sealed up tight." He announced, walking off to find the back door and reinforce it.

You stood off the coffee table, the hard surface making your butt sore. You stretched and walked back to the couch. When he came back he asked, "You sleepin' there?"

You nodded. You would offer it to him, but last time you guys had to share a sleep space he hogged the bed and snored as loud as humanly possible, so this time you were doing him no favors. He laid out some blankets he found, making a nice palette on the floor to lay on. You set the bottle on the coffee table, feeling pretty tipsy by now, and relaxed on the couch the way you had before. He laid down on his back, propping his bag under his head for comfort.

It was silent for a while, just the two of you enjoying the sounds of rain and the flames that were slowly dying down.

"Thanks." He spoke up. You peeked down at him from the couch. He was mostly obscured by the coffee table but you could see half of his face. "For tellin' me all that."

You just smiled to yourself as you turned on your side, facing away from him and curling up into the ball you usually slept in. A few minutes went by. Just as his eyes got heavy, he heard it.

"(Y/N)." You said. "That's my name."

#daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl twd

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octuscle · 7 months ago

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Every Friday Night

What do you give someone who actually has everything? My friend Daniel is celebrating his 40th birthday next Saturday. We've been inseparable since high school. By his own admission, he's had a good life: he's a fairly successful doctor, most people appreciate his pleasant if somewhat reserved nature, and time has only given him the occasional gray hair, a slight tummy and shallow laugh lines on his gentle face.

Although he has had to make some sacrifices over the years to achieve his professional and social status, he admits that it has all been worth it. Until now, I always believed that too. What reason did I have not to? Until we had perhaps one or two too many glasses of wine yesterday. The wine loosened his tongue. And Daniel said wistfully that he regretted not having a more rebellious youth.

Shit, I've had a bit too much wine myself… I'm afraid I've been up to some shenanigans. At least I have a Chronivac app on my phone and I get text messages that my subscription is activated. And there's a countdown. Shit, I have a bad headache. And no idea what's going on.

Daniel calls me and asks me what the calendar entry is for Friday evening. It says "Gym" in the calendar. Yeah, right. Gym. Friday night. Isn't that what we always do? I'm a bit confused. Daniel too. "Yes, of course!" he says. Gym on Friday. As always. Will I pick him up? For some reason, I tell him to meet me at the bus stop. Sure, says Daniel. We haven't taken the bus since school days.

Friday evening. It feels normal to meet Daniel at the bus stop. We're both still wearing our casual business outfits from the office. And a sports bag with us. When was the last time I went to the gym? Shit, last Friday of course. We go every Friday. At least. Daniel greets me with a fist bump and offers me a cigarette. Neither of us smoke.

When the bus arrives, Daniel goes straight through to the back. He sits down in the last row with his legs apart and starts rolling a fag. I sit down next to him. Damn, he smells of sweat and tobacco. i start playing with my cell phone. since when do i have a tiktok account? A guy gives me tips on taking Trenbolone. Daniel looks at my screen, grabs my cock and says that the stuff makes me a muscle whore and shrinks my balls. i ask him why that's a problem. We laugh. The people around us roll their eyes. The bus arrives at our station. As we walk to the exit, Dan lights his cigarette. Before we're even off the bus, I take it out of his mouth and take a deep drag. Fuck the smoking ban!

I think the gym sucks, but Dan really wanted to train here. The other guys are pumping iron in our neighborhood. It's closer and you can go straight to the pub with the lads afterwards. But Dan is obsessed with the big boys. He really wants to become a freak. And shit, we're bros. I have to go with him. And to be honest, I totally dig his gym acne. I bet he's going to be a freak.

Training was like, totally lit, dude! The big boys have our backs all the way, major props. That's so dope. But Dan, he's such a poser, always flexing with pics and posts. And TikTok, non-stop! But man, he's already got a squad of followers. Now we're heading to the pub to meet up with the boys, but we're stuck on this darn bus for another freakin' half hour. The shower situation is a total bummer anyways. A quick spray of Axe under the pits, a dab of wax in the hair – good to go! Hey, Dan nailed it with the fresh cut, maybe I should chop mine off too.

Saturday morning. I feel a bit like I've been run over by a bus. In general… Buses. Shit, what have I been dreaming about buses? Tonight is Daniel's birthday party. He's celebrating at the Savoy. Cocktails at the bar, dinner at the grill… I still have to get my tuxedo from the cleaners. And I still need a present… Stop, wait… Didn't I already give him a present?

The birthday party was nice. A bit stiff. At around 02:00, we sit at the bar for one last drink. And Daniel asks me if I can remember last night. Funny, I have no idea what I did. Neither does he.

Thursday evening I receive a message via WhatsApp. Unknown number. We are supposed to pick up our stuff tomorrow at 16:00. Same place as usual. I have no idea what it's about. Daniel calls me to say that someone has told him that we still owe him 100 pounds for some stuff and that we should fucking bring it tomorrow. We both have no idea what it's about…

I get another message at midday on Friday. I ask if we can bring the appointment forward to 5pm. It's not my new iPhone. It's an old scratched device with a cracked display. I reply: "I'm sorry, but we're still at the gym until 18:00. Unfortunately, I can't make it any earlier." My fingers are moving as if remote-controlled. And now I have to go. The disco-poser biceps don't pump up by themselves.

Yo, so check it out, Dan's out here thinking he's this mega athlete, but homeboy be puffin' on them cancer sticks like there's no tomorrow, I'm talkin' 'bout 10 to 15 smokes a day? Psshh, child's play! Dan be double dosin' that, like he's tryna set the world record for most Marlboros inhaled in 24 hours or somethin'. And then, to top it off, dude's pullin' shady moves like stealin' cash from his pops just to fund his steroid stash! Man, I'm grindin' my butt off every night at the slaughterhouse just to keep up with them gym beasts, and this dude be relyin' on his daddy's wallet? Nah man, he gotta get a real job! Then, as if things couldn't get any wilder, my boy Liam starts talkin' 'bout Tren, that hardcore juice that supposedly turns you into a freakin' beast. I've heard stories, man, dudes growin' extra body parts and all! But me and Dan, we playin' it safe, stickin' to our old school supps for now. Ain't nobody tryna grow a third nipple just yet, you feel me?

I swear, Dan is like a walking perfume factory of pure musk. If he just lifts his arm, he's got every dude and babe in the gym drooling over him. Meanwhile, I'm just here, living my best life at all times. And now, the tattoo sesh with the artist is a no-go. Total bummer. I was so stoked to get my full-on sleeve inked up tomorrow evening. It's just way cooler to flex those guns in a tank at the club, you know? I love flaunting my hard-earned biceps. Gotta keep grinding, you feel me?

I slept naked tonight. And as rumpled as my bed is, I had wild dreams. I've got a movie tear again. My last memory was of strange messages I received on someone else's cell phone. When I walk into the bathroom, my heart almost stops. I have a bloody tattoo on my forearm! I raise my arm to see if there are any more. Dude! Eileen usually epilates my armpits every two weeks. Where did the bush under my arms come from? And why does it smell like I haven't showered for three weeks? I really need to take a shower. Although I have an urgent urge to go to the gym again straight away. That rarely happens. My inner bastard usually wins out at the weekend. And if I'm motivated, I should take advantage of it. I could ask Daniel if he fancies a game of squash at the club, I think to myself as I soap up. When I get out of the shower, I get a message from Daniel. He asks me if I have any idea where his tattoo came from. And whether I fancy a game of squash at the club.

I have no idea what's happening to us. On the one hand, I feel much fitter than I did a few weeks ago. On the other hand, Daniel and I have both started smoking. And we got tattoos. Obviously in a drunken stupor. At the age of 40! Who does that? I mean, Daniel seems so much more relaxed. At work, in his private life. And that pays off. He's never received so much positive feedback… And it's hardly any different for me. I feel so much more agile. And shit, I think about sex all the time. And mostly sex with Daniel.

On Thursdays I somehow always start to get restless. I used to primarily look forward to the week being over. But now I'm looking forward to the weekend starting. Kind of like it used to be. At school or university. And Saturdays and Sundays aren't much different than they were a month or two ago. And I can't remember the last few Fridays for the life of me. And the funny thing is that Daniel obviously feels the same way. It's almost Friday morning when I get a new message from the same number as last week. "Ive got a hell of a lot of m1y on u. Dont let meh down. And if u W, ill owe u 1". I really have no idea what that means. For some reason I save the number under "Liam".

Normally "casual friday" for me means wearing chinos with a blazer. Sometimes with just a white t-shirt underneath. But usually with a button-down shirt. Today I'm wearing a sweat suit with a hoodie top under a down vest. The neckline of the tank top underneath is so low that you can see the gap between my pecs. I actually didn't think about it. It just felt right. And no one in the office questioned it. On the contrary, I get a lot of compliments. My boss personally praises my tight ass. At 3:00 pm I get a message from Daniel: "Dude, were r u? fite starts @ 20:00. Didnt we want 2 trin beforehand? n da photo shoot is b4 tht 2!" I call him and ask him what that shit means. He can't remember any message he's supposed to have sent me. But the fact is that I have to go now, even if I still have no idea where I'm going or why.

Oh my god, this night is straight up LIT AF! Had a sick sesh at training with my ride-or-die homie. Then my first presser, ya boy's the ultimate underdog for this brawl. Cameras flashing like crazy. And then the showdown. Damn, your boy's killin' it. But KO in round two? No one saw that coming. Except Liam, he had faith. Dan's hating, thinking it's all fake. He's just salty. Bros gonna hate, but we're tight. Now we're popping bottles for the win. Liam's shouting that tonight's on him. We ain't gotta be told twice, let's partyyyy!

I could swear my nose looks like it's been broken in more than one fight. Somehow I remember boxing matches from the past. But when? At university? I was more of a debating and astronomy club kind of guy. Shit, Daniel and I need a new sports club. This stuffy country club is for wimps. Yes, we're 40 years old. But fit as fuck. There may be customers and colleagues who turn up their noses at us because of our tattoos. But hey, we weren't born with a silver spoon in our mouths. We've fought for everything we've achieved. And Dan and I agree that we've been really successful.

Yes, we like our jobs. And we're both good at it. But real life starts on Friday afternoon. Damn, you can bet your life on it!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #tank top #inked man #age reduction #ai image #chav tf

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gremlinmodetweeker · 16 days ago

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König's Haunted House Disaster

Inspired by @machveil 's post HERE and my little blorbo of König punching out recruits HERE, I figured that for the day before Halloween I should write about just what exactly went down on the night Horangi, Hutch and Askel took König to a haunted house.

Art from This Post

12:00 - Ten Hours Before the Ban

"Hey König! You gotta check this out!" Horangi called across the cafeteria, enthusiastically waving his phone as he jogged over.

König, already tired of what Horangi was about to say, simply grunted when the Korean man slid into the seat beside him. He tried his best to convey just how tired he was, but it was to no avail as Horangi eagerly crowded into his personal space to show him his crack phone screen.

"You really should get that replaced," König grumbled as Horangi shuffled closer.

"You sound like my Mom," Horangi commented before pressing play on the video.

König winced at the volume as Horangi hurriedly turned it down with a whispered 'Sorry!'.

"You really are a useless-"

"Look!" Horangi jammed his finger at a small sign in the video.

König leaned in and squinted.

"Horangi, my eyes are good but they're not that good. Can you just tell me what it says?"

"This place is near our base!" Horangi explained, "let's get a few guys and we'll go!"

"You want to go to a... A scary house?" König asked curiously.

"A haunted house König," Horangi sniffed, "seriously you moved from Germany over ten years ago and you still don't know what a haunted house is?"

König huffed, "My mind blanked. I know what they are."

"Yeah sure, keep telling yourself that," Horangi drawled before switching tabs to get to a poorly formatted website, "now look, tickets are cheap here. It's only five euros to get in!"

For a moment, König's eyes sparkled.

"Only five euros?" he muttered, "that's not too bad... I could be convinced."

"If we go to the shwarma place fist would that help?"

"... Maybe."

"Alright I'll tell Hutch," Horangi swung his legs from out of the bench.

König watched, slightly stunned, as Horangi swaggered away to the other cafeteria.

"Aren't you going to have lunch with me?" König asked.

Horangi turned to look over his shoulder and scoffed, "Nah, I've got shit to do. I wanna go, but if we don't get enough of a crowd it's just not worth it."

König narrowed his eyes, "Was I only asked to boost numbers?"

Horangi shrugged, "Why are you worried?"

"Don't you consider me a friend?" König asked bitterly.

"Yeah," Horangi said, "but you always push the chair back in the car until it hits my knees."

"Then drive," König stated.

"I don't need you on my case too," Horangi grumbled and walked away, leaving König to sit with an empty tray in front of him.

He glared at the gleaming steel.

"Did I really eat it all that fast?"

17:00 - Five Hours Before the Ban

Hutch took a long swig of water before dropping his arm to his lap. He waved at König fondly, "Hey there."

König waved back curtly and picked up a dumbbell before sitting on a bench and starting his bicep curls.

"You doing another set?" Hutch asked.

"Why not?" König shrugged.

"That's what I keep telling myself, but then I strain something," Hutch laughed, "you best watch yourself old man."

"I am not old!" König grumbled, "I only just turned thirty a month ago."

"You're in your thirties. You're old," Hutch smirked.

"You're what, twenty-nine?" König huffed.

"Twenty-seven and eleven months, thank you," Hutch replied.

"Oh so you'll be old soon enough," König snorted.

Hutch shook his head and wiped a blue towel over her forehead, "Nah, once I hit thirty then thirty-five is old."

"Oh," König rolled his eyes, "I see. So I won't be old for long."

"Did I say thirty-five? I meant thirty-one" Hutch took another sip of water.

"You're worse than Horangi," König puffed as he neared the end of his rep.

"König," Hutch glared down his nose at the bigger man, "nobody's as bad as Horangi."

König put the dumbbell by his feet and set his timer before he admitted, "Maybe not."

"Speaking of Horangi though," Hutch started stretching his arms over his chest, "I heard that he invited you to come out with us?"

"Word really does go around fast here," König muttered.

"When it's with Horangi? Sure does. But seriously man," Hutch eased into a good stretch, "are you coming?"

König drummed his fingers on his thigh as he felt his heart rate relax. He turned his head from side to side and then said, "Why not. I don't have anything else to do."

"Then I guess we got you on a good day," Hutch smiled.

"'We'? I thought this was a Horangi thing," König glanced over at his friend.

"Well, I gave Horangi the idea, but he was the one who really made it happen," Hutch explained, "I was hoping we might schedule something for next week or whatever, but Horangi's too impulsive to wait."

"Strange. When we were out in Iraq I saw him line up a shot for three hours," König shook his head, "but that man works in weird ways. I don't think I'll ever understand him."

"Funny, 'cause he says the same things about you," Hutch commented.

König was about to say something when his timer went off.

"Another rep, big guy?"

König nodded and picked up the dumbbell again, "Always another."

20 :00 - Two Hours Until the Ban

"Oh my God this is so good."

"See? I told you it would be."

"Okay but I saw you flicking mould off a peach last week," Horangi rolled his eyes as he stuffed another forkful of shwarma in his mouth, "your definition of 'good' is fucked."

König bristled as Hutch and Aksel laughed quietly behind him. He glared at the two, but it only served to worse Aksel's giggling.

"It was just a tiny bit," he explained.

"It was not a tiny bit," Aksel snickered, "that was the peach that Stiletto forgot in her locker."

König paled, "Was it really?"

"Yeah?" Aksel shook his head mirthfully, "I mean, it was set out on the counter for a reason."

"I thought..." König trailed off as he turned to glare at his hands.

"Whatever you thought," Hutch interjected, "it was just stupid. Like come on man, it was smellin' and everything!"

König wrinkled his nose, "I don't think it smelled that bad."

"You know you nearly gave Stiletto a heart attack," Horangi added on.

König smiled beneath his hood, "Well, I suppose I'll have to tell her I'm sorry."

"Oh cut the crap," Horangi gruffed, "you just wish you saw her face too."

König nodded from side to side as the others laughed.

It wasn't often that the men could get off base for a bit, but by pulling König's rank card (Horangi swore that wasn't the reason he was invited) and explaining a few things away, they managed to be able to get some time out to look around and enjoy the city. It took about an hour to drive to the shwarma shop, but at least it seemed to be a hit with the whole team. König was glad to at least provide something to the trip. He hated to admit it, but even then he was anxious about appearing good enough for his team.

"So," Horangi put his plastic fork down, "In about fifteen minutes, what do you guys think about heading out to the haunt?"

"Fine by me," Aksel nodded as Hutch swallowed a bite of his wrap, nodding in agreement.

"Alright. König? You cool with that?" Horangi turned to look at the tall Austrian.

"Should be fine," König nodded, "I mean, it might be a bit late, but..."

"We'll be fine," Hutch shut him down quickly, "don't worry about it man."

"I mean, it's just it's a long drive, and-"

"König! If the numbers guy says it'll be fine, then it'll be fine," Aksel sighed.

Horangi patted his shoulder, "Trust us. It'll be fine."

König sighed and relaxed into the seat. He didn't trust them, not in the slightest, but the least he could do was pretend.

21:00 - One Hour Until the Ban

The group of four man stood outside the farmhouse, looking up and down at the dilapidated building. Fog rolled from the windows with winding screams into the night. Occasionally, a bright red flash would come from the top left window. Cheap cobwebs were woven over the ground, littered with tiny plastic spiders that glowed in the green light coming from the front porch.

"You gettin' scared at all?" Horangi grinned as he looked between the others.

"Pft, it looks cheap," Aksel crossed his arms, "saw way better when I was a kid."

"I think that's positivity bias there, Aksel," König muttered, earning himself a short nod from Hutch.

"I think we might've wasted our time honestly," Hutch frowned as he gave the building another once-over.

"Oh come on," Horangi groaned, "we haven't even been inside. It might be a lot of fun!"

"Fun?" Askel shook his head and tutted condescendingly, "in this place? I doubt it."

Hutch glared at the offending building behind a pair of sunglasses.

"The website made it look so much better," Hutch complained bitterly as he squared his shoulders back.

Watching Horangi's face fall, König couldn't help but kick himself for being so negative to the place. Without another word, he put a hand on Horangi's shoulder and cocked his head to the side.

"Maybe it might be better on the inside, don't you think?" he offered his friend.

Horangi smiled back brightly, "See! König has the right idea!"

König shrivelled under the judgmental glare of the others. He hated how they looked almost disappointing in him for trying to stand up for Horangi. Really, even if the haunt was just for kids, what was the harm in having fun with it?

"Well hey, they say there's only groups of two here," Horangi pointed at a poorly painted sign, "so I'll go with König and you two buzzkills go with each other."

Aksel rolled his eyes, but threw an arm around the taller man to his left, "Alright, looks like we're together."

"Get your arm off of me," Hutch grumbled.

Not keen to be dragged down by the others, König decided to follow Horangi to the front steps of the home.

Strangely, as König drew closer, he couldn't help but feel that age-old familiar tingle in his chest. Something about the house set him on edge. He didn't want to admit it, but the house certainly unnerved him. He had the feeling something horribly dreadful waited for him inside.

"You know, now that the other two are gone, I'm really digging the vibes here," Horangi elbowed König lightly.

"Ja," König replied stiffly, "it is different without them."

Horangi looked up at his friend skeptically. After observing him carefully, a sly smile slid across Horangi's face.

"Getting a bit spooked, big guy?" Horangi asked.

König snorted, "No, of course not."

"Sure," Horangi drawled, "whatever you say."

König turned to glare, but they were already being called up.

As he stepped up to the ticket taker, he noticed the man turning to an actor and whispering. He tried to ignore how they both seemed to focus more on him than Horangi before the smaller scare actor was shooed off.

As they walked into the house, Horangi worsened his fears when he blithely commented, "They really seemed to be looking at you back there. I wonder why."

König felt positively dreadful.

21:30 - Half an Hour Until the Ban

König looked around him nervously. About five minutes ago, Horangi had disappeared from his side. He could hardly believe it. One minute Horangi was chatting away and the next he was gone. He didn't even really know when he lost the man, he'd long-since tuned out his rambling. Now, he wished he were paying more attention.

Now that he was alone, König couldn't help but notice all the sounds more. The screams pressed on his ears as the rattling of chains snaked through his feet. Sometimes he swore he heard someone panting in his ear, but when he turned there was only the low green light guiding him forwards.

With each step he took, he felt like he was passing through thick webs. Occasionally, thick tarps would block his vision and he'd have to push forward. He tried his best to not let his heart rate spike, but something had him on edge.

A part of him was kicking himself for being in any way, shape or form affected by the house. It was just a haunted house, it was all fake. He'd seen real horror, so why did this get to him? What was it that had his skin crawling?

He didn't know but it just kept getting worse.

König pushed past a curtain of rusted chains to enter what looked like the remnants of a kitchen. In the strobing red lights, he could see blood splatters cake the walls. The shine of metal on the walls clued him in to the knives wallpapering the room. His knees felt weak when he finally noticed the centre of the room.

There, lying down strapped to the dining room, a woman watched him with bright white eyes.

König couldn't help himself as he dashed into the next room.

Those eyes, bright white, staring directly at him, they petrified him like no other. He felt them boring into him, even as he left. He spared a glance behind him and nearly collapsed when he saw the woman turn her head 180 degrees to follow him.

He slammed the next door shut behind him, swallowing him in darkness.

21:45 - Fifteen Minutes Until the Ban

König panted as he slumped against the door. He held his chest tightly, welcoming the darkness around him. Finally he could get away from those eyes. In this darkness, nobody could ever see him.

König closed his eyes and sighed.

When he opened them, a small candle lit the room, revealing the contents to him for the first time.

When he looked around, he wanted to scream.

Mirrors. There were mirrors everywhere. Some as big as him, some smaller than his thumbnail. Ton and tons of mirrors all glinting back at him.

He could see his form slowly distorting in the candlelight. Old memories rushed through him and he trampled forth, knocking down a couple of mirrors in the process and shattering them on the ground.

21:50 - Ten minutes Until the Ban

König ran until he collided into a wall and stumbled back. Now in the low red lights he could see everything around him.

From the room of mirrors he'd walked into a small pioneer classroom. To his horror, every single pair of eyes was on him. He tried walking one way, and the 'students' turned their heads. He walked the other way and they followed him. He glanced around in widening horror as he realized the only exit was at the back of the room.

Without another thought, he pushed forth.

21:55 - Five Minutes Until the Ban

König didn't know why he ever agreed to come here. This place was nothing but a house of torture. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to do anything he could to escape. Any exit he saw only took him further and further into the maze.

How was a small farmhouse so big? It felt endless in here. Each turn brought him new horrors, new eyes staring at him. He tried to get away, but he could feel their eyes on him constantly, watching him run, watching him stumble, watching him as he desperately tried to find an escape.

He barely took in his surroundings as he charged through the building. He could hear something being shouted, could hear footsteps crashing down behind him but he just kept pushing forth. He needed to do anything he could to get away. He could feel his throat tightening and his heart pounding as he ripped down a curtain to get by.

He stumbled through into another black room and felt himself shut down.

21:58 - Two Minutes Until the Ban

The room was silent. Nothing from the outside came in. It was cold, terribly cold. Never had he been so cold. Why was he so cold?

He heard a door unlock, and footsteps step in.

21:59 - One Minute Until the Ban

"Uh, hello?" he heard a quiet voice, "um, is anyone in here?"

A bright flashlight turned on in his face, momentarily blinding him.

König didn't think as he punched into the light. He only heard a squawk and a curse as the light dropped down to the ground. He stumbled back and all the lights turned on.

22:00 - THE BAN

"Dude!" he looked down to find a straggly teen.

"Shit he got Johann," a woman yelled out.

"I told you this was a bad idea," a man grunted as he stepped forth and hauled the teen up to his feet. He gave König a sharp glare and jabbed a finger in his direction.

"Me?" König could feel the panic draining from his system.

"You! Go follow her and get out of here," the man yelled.

König didn't need to be told twice. He quickly found the tiny purple-haired woman and scurried to her side. She eyed him with disgust.

"Seriously dude, that wasn't cool," she sighed, "like, I know we're an extreme haunt, but you can't punch the actors. That's like, the number one rule here."

"Ah, sorry," König muttered weakly.

"Your friend is outside waiting for you," she grumbled as she led him through the back, "I told the guys not to push you too far, but they just wanted to scare the big guy and I guess they went too far. Still," she opened the final door, "you're banned from the haunt. Permanently."

"Why?" König asked meekly as he stepped by.

"You punched the actors dude," she glared at him, "number. One. Rule."

With that she slammed the door in his face, leaving him to join Horangi outside.

Horangi only had to take one look at his friend to figure out what had happened.

"You punched an actor?" he crossed his arms over his chest, "that's like, the number one rule."

"I panicked," König explained weakly.

"You? You panicked?" Horangi frowned, "what the hell did they do to you?"

König shook his head as he leaned over, "Eyes. So many eyes."

"Eyes?"

"And mirrors."

"And mirrors!? König, what sorta haunt did you go to?" Horangi quizzed him, "I just got led around a haunted barnyard!"

"After they split us up," König sucked in another breath, "it was... I didn't think that it would be that bad." Horangi scrunched his eyebrows together, but thankfully only clapped a hand on his back and helped push his friend forward, "Alright, well, I saw some sorta candy place. Looked like dragonsbreath, so I wanted to check it out. Wanna come with?"

König wheezed.

"I'll take that as a yes," Horangi shrugged and dragged König over to the cotton candy vendor.

Konig Dump

Konig Regular Fanfics

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

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THTH 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Ransom Drysdale

Summary: You have a secret, but what do you do when it threatens to come out.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Ugh, goddamn it,” you hiss as you reach your phone to the sky. The signal is shit around here. You watch the little circle, waiting for a check mark to appear; nothing.

Three days. The bandwidth has been in and out for three days and you haven’t been able to upload a single thing. Not even a message. This is dumb. You growl at your phone and toss it on your bed. It bounces and hits the wall.

You huff and cross your arms. It’s not fair. Those three days could’ve made you money. You can’t even leech off the library wifi because of the content filters. So ridiculous. You’re just trying to make a living.

A tap comes at the door and you flinch. You quickly scoop up your phone and go to the door. You tuck it in your back pocket and pull your shirt down to cover the top. You open the door and peek out at your mom.

“Everything okay?” She asks.

“Uh, yep, just dropped something.”

“Oh, nothing broke, I hope.”

“All good,” you smile. She chews her lip anxiously, as she often does. “I’ll be down for dinner soon. Smells good.”

“Alright,” she says, “it’s almost done. Your favourite; spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Mmm, awesome.”

You shut the door and roll your eyes. Spaghetti isn’t your favourite. It’s what she says is your favourite. Just like everything else, it has to fit within her rules. If she says you like yellow, well then, you like yellow. It isn’t worth the argument to have a personality.

You take out the phone again. You nearly squeal as the check mark turns green. It sent! Just a text post notifying your few followers of the unexpected technical difficulties. You’ll be fortunate if they don’t bleed off to the other girls. When there’s so much variety, you can’t expect horny men not to hop on the next page with a pretty girl in lacy underwear…or less.

You scroll down but the rest of the posts show the blank blocks, pulsing as they struggle to load. You check the menu. Signal’s gone again. Welp, at least that went through.

You go to your bed and hide your phone under the mattress. Your parents know about your laptop, that’s your alibi. You tell them you do transcription work online. That doesn’t pay enough so you have the secret phone for your real business; you.

It isn’t exactly a career but it’s a means to an end. You’ll save up enough and be out of Hammer Ford in no time. You’re almost twenty and running out of time. A gap year is expected, but two? That’s sad.

Besides, you’re done with this life. You need out of this house. You are an adult. Your parents can’t make you eat your peas or ban you from the romance section in the library. One day, hopefully soon, you’ll be free.

For now, you’re going to go downstairs and pretend your mother’s spaghetti and meatballs isn’t complete mush.

📱

Days pass as you stare helplessly at the flashing bars in the corner of your phone. Damn phone company. The data plan was supposed to be a backup, even if you could only afford the cheapest vendor on the market. You at least thought it would work!

You manage to get a decent signal up on Thunder Lane by the hotel. It might be worth it to just walk in and get their wifi. You don’t think they’d care much. There aren’t many guests passing through now, are there?

The only benefit of your forced break is how much time it gave you to create new content. You choose the set of photos you took with the bunny ears and the barely there white teddy. You quickly flick through the settings and set the paywall. At least you’ll have money coming in before…

Yep, no internet. You’re lucky even that went through. You roll your eyes and hop back in the family oldsmobile. Your mother doesn’t let you have it often but you told her you were going for coffee and would fill up the tank.

As you roll up to the sleepy main row of Hammer Ford, your phone vibes. You quickly put it back to silent and check the notification. Your data’s flickering as you see the first response to your post. That was quick. Turns out someone did miss you.

_ransom_ware commented: ‘welcome back, bunny’.

You tap on the bubble but the app won’t load. Damnit! At least you have automatic deposit enabled. His tip will hit your account in a couple days.

You get out of the car and cross the street to the bakery. You could butter your mom up with some tarts, maybe convince her to let you take the car into the city. That might be your best chance at catching up. You could schedule posts and not have to fight with the damn countryside desolation.

As you enter the bakery, it’s quiet. There’s one person at a table. You don’t recognise him. He has his back to you so you don’t think much of it. Probably just another lumber worker sating their repressed sweet tooth. Although, he is dressed a bit too nice for that. No plaid or denim? Huh.

You go up to the counter and order a half-dozen cherry tarts and a latte. You pay with the secret credit card you use for your online transactions and thank the girl behind the counter. As you turn, you find the man at the table turned in his seat. He glances at you as you carry out the tray of tarts and coffee.

You’re used to the stares. The men in Hammer Ford aren’t exactly subtle and your nights at The Horn have earned you a reputation, though those stories don’t make it past your front door. It’s just a little fun, you have a pint and tie your shirt above your belly button and dance. Nothing serious.

Your mom and dad are too chaste and pious to ever wander into the bar. It’s your escape, your safe space. Just for now. Just until you can get out of this hell hole.

#ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #drabble #series #au #backwoods au #thth #knives out

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hobie-enthusiast · 1 year ago

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UNLIKELY CLASH !

— rulebreaker!hobie brown x perfectionist!gn!reader

— enemies to lovers, fluff, cursing (a lot tbh), arguments, character development, secret relationships, gossip, kissing, sneaking around, hobie is shirtless (its for one part for comfort)

— hobie brown was everything you weren’t, so maybe that’s what attracted the two of you together so well (pt. 3)

— part 3 woohoo! shoutout to 🫓 anon for the idea and honestly part 4 maybe? i have an idea brewing

— part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (here)

Sneaking around with Hobie Brown was truly exhilarating.

After the event in the supply closet, he declared you to be in a relationship (that’s about as far as he would label it). Only problem was it had to stay secret. Your reputation was on the line, and being with Hobie could label you as trouble alone. Plus, Hobie hated labels.

So a secret relationship ensued. For two months worth of sneaking around during school hours to rooftop dates, the two of you avoided all judging eyes. You were content with that, and so was he.

That was, until your grades started to slip.

It truly wasn’t a big deal. 100’s turned into 90’s, and you still maintained your A’s. But that wasn’t good in your parent’s eyes. They noticed the weird absences for singular classes. When you said it was for academic competitions, they grew even more weary.

A confirmation was apparent to them when you climbed in through your window while they were awaiting your arrival. They wanted to talk with you about the grades, only to find you missing. Of course they were worried, but they still found themselves more angry than not.

“What is going on with you?” Your mom questions, arms crossed. “It’s like we don’t even know you anymore!”

“Mom, stop, please.”

“No, that’s not how you’ll speak to her.” Your dad interjected.

You groan, sitting at your desk. “Nothing’s going on! I’m doing perfectly fine.”

Your dad raises an eyebrow and scoffs. “Yeah, because sneaking through the window and skipping classes is ‘fine’.”

“I’m not skipping classes!”

“Oh so you want to lie?” Your mom questions.

“Why won’t you believe me?” You ask. Of course you were lying, they couldn’t know about Hobie. “I’m still doing great. Keeping up. It’s normal teenage stuff.”

Your dad shakes his head. “Nope. I don’t think so.” He declares, crossing to the door. “As of right now, you aren’t going to prom. Maybe that’ll teach you to not sneak around and lie.”

“What?!” Your eyes widen as you stand. You turn to your mom. “Are you seriously going to let this happen?!”

“Let it be a lesson, [Name]. Get your act together.”

Your parents walked out of your room, and you groan in frustration. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You wanted to go to prom! The nice outfits, the dancing, and maybe even convincing Hobie to go was your plan. Now you couldn’t.

You angrily grab your phone, typing to Hobie before tossing your phone away.

Me (9:42 pm):

My parents banned me from going to prom.

Hobie <3 (9:42 pm):

???

why?

Me (9:46 pm):

Caught me sneaking through the window and cornered me. Said I was skipping classes and told me that I needed to “get my act together”.

It’s absolute bullshit.

Hobie <3 (9:46 pm):

shit im sorry sweetheart

give me 5 minutes

You smile gingerly at the phone, moving to lock your room door. You knew Hobie was already on his way, so you had to ensure your parents wouldn’t get you in more trouble. That’s the last thing you needed.

You sat in silence by your door, trying your hardest not to cry over the situation. It was rough.. you never disappointed your parents before like this. They always thought highly of you, but now they didn’t, and this feeling wasn’t kind.

A knock on the window stole you away from your pity. Glancing up, you move to open the window, Hobie entering and immediately hugging you tightly.

You couldn’t help but let out a choked sob at the warmth. “Oh swee’heart.. shh, ‘s okay..”

“But it isn’t!” You respond, pulling away and wiping your face. “I know this may seem stupid but I was looking forward to.. I don’t know.. having a genuine date to prom. I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me, become public, all that stuff. And now I can’t!” You finish, plopping down on your bed.

Hobie’s eyes widen before a sigh escapes his lips. He didn’t know you wanted to go public, not at all. Of course, everyone already had their suspicions after the incident in the hallway. But no one knew you actually were together. Just thought of it as Hobie being Hobie.

He sits next to you, draping an arm around you. In response, you lean against him with a deep breath.

“It isn’t just about prom. I’ve never.. seen my parents so disappointed in me. And I don’t get it. I’m still a great student. Like.. it doesn’t make sense, y’know?”

“I get ‘t. But they put a lot ‘f pressure on ya. Can’t let this get t’ ya.” He explains, a soothing hand rubbing your arm.

You sigh. “I can’t help it. I..” You want to say you love them, because you do. But you aren’t doing this for love. “…want them to care.”

Well that wasn’t what Hobie was expecting.

He says no more words, just holding you closely. He soon finds himself hearing you request he stay, him holding you close, underneath your blankets. He knew this was bad, if your parents walked in it wouldn’t end well. But it was alright. He could just.. keep you safe for a little while. That’s what his job is.

His job as.. as..

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Your eyes adjust to the light pouring in, a groan escaping your lips. You’re about to turn over and stretch when you feel yourself trapped. Glancing down, you see some familiar hands and rings.

The warmth elicited from Hobie was amazing. You let out a content sigh, savouring the moment with him.

Once Hobie awakens, which was possibly two minutes after you, you turn to him with a small smile. “Can’t believe you slept in your jeans and jewelry.”

“Eh, ‘ur worth the discomfor’.” He responds, a yawn escaping his lips.

“That’s.. corny as hell.”

Hobie grins, pulling you closer to him. “You make me wanna be corny, hm?”

Before you could respond, a knock comes at your door. Your mom’s voice rang on the other side, causing both of you to shoot up.

“Honey? Can I come in?”

“Shit!”

You stand from the bed, almost falling in the process, trying to fix up the scene. You usher Hobie up, who happened to be shirtless for comfort, into your closet.

“Woah woah, slow down darlin’.” He says as you shove him. His eyes glance over at something before he looks back, not saying anything on it.

That’ll be fun.

You glare at him. “Hobie Brown, you are currently shirtless in my room, slept in the same bed as me, with my mom on the other side of the door. The one who just got me in trouble for going from an A plus to an A minus. Get in the damn closet.”

He says no more, instead putting his hands up as you shove him into the closet, shutting the door. You fix up your hair before unlocking the door, opening it with the best smile you can manage.

“Hey mom.” You speak casually. “What’s up?”

She smiles back, pushing past you into your room. “Just wanted to say.. don’t take your father’s punishment too hard. He just wants what’s best for you.” She says, cleaning up some things that are out and about.

“Oh yeah! No it’s okay I’m just-”

Suddenly she stops, picking up Hobie’s shirt that lied on your desk chair. “Who’s is this..?”

You pale, clearing your throat. “No one’s! Just.. a gift I got.. couple days ago..?” You say in an almost convincing tone.

She eyes you suspiciously before shrugging, tossing it back onto the chair. You silently breath a sigh of relief, anxiety still in your heart. You’ve never hid a boy before in your closet; not a universal experience.

“…you understand? We’re just concerned.”

“Y-yeah! I get it.” You respond, not knowing what your mom said.

She smiles, walking over and ruffling your hair. “Good. I love you, honey.”

You mutter it back as she exits the room, closing the door behind her. You let out an exasperated breath before running to open the closet door. Hobie can only let out a chuckle as you slam in shirt into his chest.

“Damn you!”

“Oh come on. ‘t was excitin’.” He responds, following you back into the room.

You glare back at him as you sit on the bed with a huff. You cross your arms, as if pretending to be mad, turning away from Hobie. He rolls his eyes as his shirt slips back on.

He takes a seat next to you and plants a soft kiss on your head. “Ah.. Can’t stay mad a’ me. Ya like me t’ much for that.”

“Whatever.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“I’m sorry.. what?!”

“Shh, keep it down!” You shush your friend, shoving their shoulder. “Seriously, it’s whatever.”

They look at you with still complete shock. “Whatever? Whatever?! You’ve been looking forward to prom tomorrow for months! How could they?”

You sigh, stopping in front of your locker. “It’s because of the small slip in my grades.” You explain, turning toward your friend.

“You mean the measly five percent? You’re still top of the class!”

“Trust me, I know.”

You open up your locker, and a small piece of paper falls out. You smile and pick it up, opening it up. You already had a feeling who it was from.

‘downtown apartments tmrw night. dress nicely. got a surprise for u. - h.b’

As you read the note, your friend seems to notice what you have. They glance over, only to see the initials it was signed by before you stuff it away.

“Secret admirer?” They question, holding their books closely.

You laugh, shutting the locker. “Mhm, you know how it is.”

As the two of you walk down the hallway, you manage to see Hobie standing at the corner, seemingly watching you while chatting with a friend. You smile slyly and he winks when you pass by.

‘Oh.. holy shit oh!’

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The next day came, and with it, prom night. You were bummed, truly. Though, maybe a small hangout with Hobie was certainly enough to get you cheered up.

You told your parents you were going to the library, to try and catch up. Luckily, they didn’t question you. Just sent you on your way and told you to be careful. That’s when you rushed to the bathroom to change into nicer clothes and snuck out after.

Hobie waited for you outside the apartments, like asked. For the first time in a while, he wore a button up instead of his vest. His pants remained the same, but he looked more done-up.

And it was worth it when he saw you.

“Well well. Who’s date are ya?” He asks with a small smirk.

You groan, shoving his arm. “Truly hilarious, Hobie. Gotta say, you clean up nice.”

“I manage.” He shrugs, placing a hand on the small of your back. “C’mon. ‘s upstairs. ‘nd close ya eyes.” He requests, prompting a suspicious look from you.

Once he was able to assure you that he wasn’t a killer, he led you to the rooftops. After some bumps and near-falls, he managed to make it, telling you to wait a moment while he ran off.

Hobie returned behind you, breathing in your ear. “‘right swee’heart, open ‘ur eyes.”

What greeted you were strung up lights, a couple of balloons, and a blanket on the ground. Some snacks lied there with the blanket, and soft music was playing in the background; your shared playlist to be exact.

“Hobie..”

“Su’prise. Figured ‘s the next bes’ thing, hm?” He whispers, hands gently holding your arms. “Jus’ the two of us. ‘nd ‘s free.”

You laugh gently, turning to face Hobie. “You did all this?”

He nods, and you can’t help but lean forward and hug him tightly. He didn’t understand, not by a long shot, why anyone would want to go to prom. But he still helped you, made it up for you. And that was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you.

Pulling away, you plant a gentle kiss on his jaw. “Thank you, seriously. I thought I was going to spend tonight sulking.”

Hobie laughs quietly, pulling you towards the make-shift prom. There isn’t much to do, but the two of you share snacks and drinks, dance a small bit, and just talk a lot. It was quiet with just the two of you, much nicer than a normal prom.

You noticed how close Hobie wanted to be with you. He was always touching you; holding your hand, waist, or fingers. It was so.. out of character. Yet, you felt amazed at how comfortable he was with you after everything before to now.

When the two of you settle on the blanket, you silently watch the sunset. Your head lies in Hobie’s chest while he strokes your hair contently.

“‘ve been thinkin’.” Hobie starts, glancing down before looking up again. “‘bout what ya said. Goin’ public ‘nd stuff.”

“Oh? That was just-”

Hobie cuts you off. “‘f ‘s what ya wan’, le’s do it.”

Your eyes light up as you sit up, turning to face him. “Seriously? You’re okay with getting labeled as my boyfriend? Just like that?”

“‘f ‘ur fine with gettin’ labeled as trouble.” He responds confidently, a smirk on his face. “‘s not easy.”

You smile gently, kissing Hobie gently on the lips, his lip ring giving a cool and sensational feeling. He grunts for a moment before grabbing your waist, kissing back. He’s obsessed with you, the way you feel on him and here in this moment. His brain goes haywire every-time he’s near you.

When you pull away, you place a gentle hand on his cheek. “It’ll be easy if we’re together, hm?”

“‘s the spiri’. Now, dance wit’ me, yeah?”

He stands you up to dance with him, the music playing a softer yet harsh tune to dance to. But you both didn’t care. You simply danced and swayed together, twirling and sharing laughs and kisses.

As Hobie dances and kisses you again and again, his thoughts run. He was used to being labeled; as a hero for Spider-punk, as a rebel for school, and as scary all around. But this label he’s creating for himself - it’s better than the others. One that he controls and more importantly, let’s them know that he’s got you. That he was given a chance and proved himself.

But of course he would never admit that.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The weekend comes and goes, and soon, it’s Monday, and your standing outside the school. You and Hobie both agreed to meet at the front of the school, walk in together, act as if all was normal. Treat it like another day.

“Hope I didn’ keep ya waitin’.” A voice calls from behind.

You turn and smile as Hobie makes his way up the steps. He leans down to kiss you, causing a few lingering students outside to gasp. He smirks when he pulls away, holding his hand out.

“Rea’y?”

You nod. “Absolutely.”

With a deep breath, you open the doors, walking in hand-in-hand with Hobie. He told you before to stand straight, to look confident, so you did. You looked forward, ignoring the gasps and stares you both got.

Everyone was going to go nuts about your relationship, it was quite annoying. They needed excitement in their lives, so on they go to bother the two of you. But you both agreed you were ready to ignore it. It was one of the terms to going public.

“Holy shit! Dude look, [Name] [Last] and Hobie Brown!”

“Holding hands? When did they start dating? Or.. even talking?”

“Girl remember, they kissed in the hallway that one time!”

“How could I forget?!”

Hobie grit his teeth as you squeezed his hand, opening up your locker. “Sorry.. maybe we shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t.” Hobie immediately stops you, leaning against the wall. “Don’ regre’ i’ jus’ because of those planks, hm? All tha’ ma’ters ‘s us.”

You sigh, shutting the door as you kiss his cheek. “You’re right. Thanks.”

“C’mon, ‘ll walk ya t’ class.”

“But you’ll be late if you do..”

You both look at each other before busting out laughing. Of course Hobie didn’t care, it was funny in itself. You were even able to ignore the annoying stares everyone around you were giving. Instead, the two of you walked off in blissful ignorance.

Maybe being with Hobie Brown would be easier than you thought.

tags for those who wanted it (🫶); @serenn08 | @babydollfoster | @em711 | @girl-detective16 | @midnightnoiserose

#NEW ARTICLE || OUT NOW !!#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv x reader #atsv #atsv hobie

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cowpokeomens · 1 year ago

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Blood Pact

It's me, your favorite monster fucker! Here's another part of my Nocturnal Creatures series, in which you strike a deal with a demon- who goes by Nicholas. Sexy things ensue.

Warnings: Disgusting nasty filthy p-in-v, cunnilingus, lots of mentions of virginity (it's a social construct, but if you got it, flaunt it), Nicholas Ruffilo's monster cock (canon), if you feel I need to add anything PLEASE send me a message! Otherwise, enjoy!

________________________________________________________

You still couldn’t believe you were doing this.

Yet, here you stood, at a crossroads in your hometown. Not just the metaphorical kind, either- an actual, physical crossroads. Mason Avenue and Fisher Street, to be exact.

Right next to the city cemetery, from which you stole a jar’s worth of dirt.

It sat in your bag, next to some kind of flowering plant you hoped would work, a cat bone (thank goodness for veterinarian friends?), and a picture of yourself, one of the headshots your manager had insisted would help you blow up on TikTok.

It hadn’t.

You threw everything into a cardboard box, using your shiny, new shovel from the local feed supply store to dig a hole in the center of the dusty dirty roads. The ground was harder than you expected, so your two-foot deep hole had you sweating by the time it was formed. You all but threw the box into the hole, quickly covering it up with loose dirt, and taking a few steps back. Pulling out your phone, you consulted the symbol you saved from a website earlier that week, spray paint in hand. All the stupid Wal-Mart had left was “Cerise Fluorescent,” so you hoped whatever you summoned liked pink.

Carefully, you sprayed the lines onto the dirt, over where you buried your box. You tried to move quickly, but precisely; Getting caught was almost as terrifying as doing it wrong.

Finally, it was done. You scrolled over on your phone, to the Latin text you hadn’t even dared to read in your head. Stepping away from the circle, you read it aloud now. You could feel your heart about to beat out of your chest, and you wondered one last time if this was worth it.

“Your Latin sucks.” A voice said suddenly.

You jumped, yelping, and fell directly on your ass.

You were scrambling back when the voice spoke again.

“Is this a Goetia sigil? In pink? The guys are going to get a kick out of this-”

You stood up shakily, dusting off your pants in the process. You finally saw the source of the voice: Standing in the center of your sigil was the most devastatingly handsome man you had ever seen.

Long, dark hair; his skin was lightly tanned and healthy-looking. Eyes the color of clouds, that seemed to shift from green to blue to grey before you. He was taller than you, tattoos visible on both hands, and dressed simply: A hoodie, dark jeans, and…

Were those Converse?

You were immediately overcome with confusion. “Um, who are you?”

He fixed those eyes directly on you. “I think that’s my line, doll.”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. “You’re Amdusias?”

He winced. “Yikes, with the Scary-Latin-Demon-Name. You can call me Nicholas.”

You frowned. “You don’t seem like…”

“Like a great duke of Hell?” He finished your thought. “Yeah, only angels really like to make a dramatic entrance, that’s why they’ve been banned to stay behind the pearly bars. Too many eyes, too much fire-”

“You’re wearing sneakers?” You said without thought.

He looked offended. “Did you expect me to crawl out of Hell in loafers?”

You scrambled for an answer. “Well, no, but I-”

“TV is rotting your mind. What do you want?” He cut you off.

You felt the color leaving your face. “Well, um, I read that you were responsible for the music in Hell-”

“‘Music’ is a big word, but sure.” He interrupted.

Giving him a look, you continued. “Well, I’m a musician, too! Only…” You trailed off with a frown.

He mocked you with a faux-wince. “Ooh, not triple platinum yet, huh?”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to hide your disappointment. Shaking your head, your gaze met his again. “That’s where you come in.”

An eyebrow cocked at you. “Think that because you snagged a demon, you get to be famous?”

You shook your head hastily. “No, not at all! I did a lot of research-” You Googled for 30 minutes- “So I don’t get to demand things without a trade, right?”

He smiled at you lazily. “Yep. So what will it be, your soul? First born? I love a first born, with a little bit of butter, some rosemary and-”

“I’m a virgin.” You blurted.

He froze, then his entire demeanor changed. For the first time that night, you felt genuine fear as the air around you went still. “Oh yeah?”

Your mouth gaped like a fish, so you settled on a nod.

He took a tiny step towards you. You were rooted on the spot, frozen like a deer in headlights. This was a bad idea.

Finally, you found your words. “My virginity. For- whatever it is you do. Fame, fortune, I don’t really care, I just want people to hear my music, connect with it-”

“Yeah, yeah, real noble of you.” He snorted, then composed himself. For a second, he almost looked concerned. “You sure about this, doll?”

You nodded, trying to look confident. “Yeah. But- make it organic, y’know, the fame part. I don’t want to look like an industry plant-”

He rolled his eyes, walking closer so that he was directly in front of you. You gaped at his proximity. “You can leave the circle?”

Laughing, he nodded. “I could have left at any point, but you’re pretty-” He leaned in so that he was whispering in your ear, “-For a pathetic little human.”

Your cheeks went hot. You knew it was just to rile you up, make this worse than it already was. At least, you figured, your virginity meant something to someone- it certainly held no value for you. A demon was less than desirable, but he was nice to look at-

Woah. Not going there, you told yourself sternly.

Shaking off the feeling, you held out your hand. “Okay, so deal-”

“Uh, no.” He cut you off, again. “I have my own terms and conditions.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

A smirk grew on his face. “My terms. For our arrangement.”

You tried not to let anger well up inside you. “And what would those terms be?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“You come to me.” He said plainly. Confusion must have been evident on your face, because he continued, “I’m not some monster in the night who’s going to show up for your virginity. When the time is right, you’ll come to me.”

“You’re not going to just… Take it?” The question slowly left your mouth.

He grimaced, an ugly look for such a pretty face. “Ew, no. I’m a demon, not a wild animal. Besides,” he cocked his head to the side, looking directly into you. “Virginity tastes better when it comes willingly.”

Gulping despite yourself, you managed a nod. “Okay. Fine. I’ll come willingly.” As if.

Holding out an inked hand, he grinned at you. “Then it’s a deal.”

Taking a deep breath, you took his hand in yours, shaking once. “Deal.”

_________________________________________________________

Six Months Later

You awoke in a cold sweat, the third time that week. Flicking the bedside lamp on, you walked over to the mini-fridge of your hotel room, grabbing a bottle of water. You were uncomfortably wet- again, and not from sweating. It seemed like every time you tried to rest, you were met by stormy eyes where sleep should have greeted you. You chugged the water, making your way to the restroom for a much-needed shower.

That night’s show had been sold out- the 13th sold out show of your highly anticipated debut tour. Nicholas had held up his end of the bargain; Your album was projected to sell close to a million units by the end of the year. And you had seen neither hide nor hair of him.

Well. Not in the flesh, anyways.

As you started the shower, your mind wandered. You knew it was him, sending you these dreams through his weird demon dream channels or whatever. Even as your body betrayed you, you knew it was not your own thoughts causing such a commotion.

Still, as you slipped in the shower to wash off the day’s grime, you felt your hand slip lower, between your folds to collect the wetness there. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you circled your bundle of nerves, moaning quietly. Despite your best efforts, your thoughts drifted back to long, dark hair and tattooed hands on your body. Your hand moved quicker, moans growing louder as you felt yourself getting closer to climax. You were on the precipice when a familiar voice made you freeze.

“I knew you’d be loud.”

Yelping, you jumped nearly a foot in the air, almost falling in your panic. Yanking your towel off the rack, you wrapped yourself as quickly as possible as you threw open the shower curtain.

Nicholas was sitting criss-cross on the expansive bathroom counter, picking at something under his nails.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You snapped.

“You summoned me, duh.” He said, rolling his eyes at you.

“Yeah, six months ago. I thought I was supposed to come to you.”

He looked at you then, eyes dragging over your poorly-concealed form. His eyes glinted, looking hungry. “Moaning the name of a demon you promised your virginity to while you rub one out in the shower is a summoning if I’ve ever seen one. Besides,” He looked into your eyes, smirking devilishly. “You were about to come to me, from the sound of it.”

Your face was on fire with embarrassment. “I was not moaning your name.”

He cocked a brow at you. “Uh, you were. Loudly.”

Rage bubbled up inside you. “I was not!” The words spilled from you now. “I wouldn’t have even been doing that if you hadn’t been sending me all of your weird demonic sex dreams constantly!”

An unnamed emotion flashed across his face, then he grinned. “‘Weird demonic sex dreams,’ huh?”

You huffed at him “Oh, don’t even play coy. Like being dragged back to Hell and tied up by some hot shot demon was my big idea.”

The smile he was giving you was sinister. “Right, right. What else have I sent your way?”

You faltered, unsure of what he was playing at. “Like you don’t know.”

He shrugged. “I don’t. I haven’t ‘sent you’ shit.” He mimed quotations with his hands.

Your blood went cold. Suddenly, the bathroom was too small. “You’re lying.” Your voice sounded feeble, even to you.

He shook his head, standing up. Slowly he stepped towards you. “I’m not.”

“But then- that would mean-” Stammering, you stood there helplessly as he crept closer.

Nodding, he leaned in even closer. “That was all you, doll.” He brushed a stray lock of hair off your shoulder. “What a dirty mind the little human virgin has. You mentioned being tied up- what else did I do to defile you, huh?”

He was too close, it almost made you dizzy. He smelled like smoke and rain and earth all at once. “Shut up.” You mumbled weakly.

He stepped back, finally. “Well, you know how to find me.”

There was a crack like lightning, then he was gone.

You stood there for a few minutes, trying to regain your composure. This was fine, you reasoned. He left. He kept his word. Everything was fine.

______________________________________________________

Three Months Later

Once again, you couldn’t believe you were doing this.

Sitting on the edge of the bed in your master bedroom, you gazed out the windows overlooking the city below. You remembered when you first bought the condo- loved how open and light it was. In the deepness of the night surrounding you, the lights looked like tiny fires dancing in the dark.

Taking a deep breath, you laid down on your pillows, trying to relax your body. Running a hand over the t-shirt on your abdomen, up to your breasts, you felt your breathing start to slow. Your nipples were quick to perk up at the stimulation, so you pinched one experimentally, almost moaning out at the sensation.

Your nerves were on fire these days. The slightest brush against your skin made you feverish. You tried everything, from quitting cold turkey to bringing yourself to climax three or four times a day. Nothing was working.

So maybe this would.

You snaked your hand lower, falling into familiar routine. You had come to know your body well the last three months, knew exactly where to rub, where to pinch. As you toyed with your folds through your underwear, you imagined a different set of hands, larger and covered in ink. Unlike the other times, you allowed your fantasy to overtake you, gave yourself to it willingly.

“Nicholas.” You breathed, back arching ever so slightly.

There was a slight breeze, then a quiet gasp.

“Quite the show you’re putting on, doll. I suppose you didn’t say my name this time, either?”

You pulled your hand away from your core, scrambling to stand up. “No, I- I did.”

Nicholas’ face looked shocked for a millisecond, then an eyebrow was raised at you. “Oh?”

“I’m… I’m ready.” It didn’t sound convincing.

He scoffed. “Yeah, no thanks. Like I said, I’m not interested in forcing anyone-”

“Goddamnit, shut up.” You snapped. “I said I’m ready, okay? You said to come to you, so here I am. Unless you never planned on following through with it.” It was dangerous to goad him, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

His eyes were pitch black in an instant, staring you down. “Don’t joke about a demon’s word, doll. You’re not ready for that fight.”

Your hands shook, but you felt-

Mortification overcame you as you realized just what you felt.

Those dark eyes narrowed in on the single bead of slick that was rolling steadily down your leg. Cloud-grey eyes returned as realization dawned on him.

“You want me to debase you.” He took a step towards you as his words filled the room. “You want me to tie you up and have my way with you. Isn’t that right?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the truth, but it was evident.

He inhaled deeply, taking another step towards you. His eyes fluttered shut as he exhaled slowly. “You smell ripe. You want this so badly, poor thing- you just can’t admit it to yourself.”

You pressed your legs together, trying to maintain some kind of decency.

He was in front of you now, close enough to touch if you were braver. “Beg for it. Beg, and I’ll give you anything you want, doll.”

Chest heaving with labored breaths, you gave in. “Please.” You whispered.

His hand- the hands you had been dreaming about for nine months- came up to grip your jaw. “I said beg.”

You crumbled. “Please, Nicholas, please, I’ll be so good-”

His grin was minatory as he brought his lips down to yours.

Your relief was immediate as you sagged into him, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to support you. He walked you backwards toward the bed, still kissing you furiously.

“How wet are you already, doll? I bet your little cunt is just soaked.” Breaking the kiss, he picked you up and set you on the bed, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you. “Tell me what you want.”

You panted, unable to form a sentence for a moment. “I don’t- I don’t know.”

He made a tsk-tsk sound with his tongue against his teeth. “Right, you’re just a helpless little virgin who hasn’t spent the last 9 months having vivid dreams about me fucking her.” He looked up at you through his lashes. “Tell me what you dreamed about.”

“Your hands.” You heard yourself say immediately.

He smirked again. “Oh yeah? What were my hands doing?”

You knew your face was crimson. “They… They were touching me.”

“Where?” The look he was giving you was too intense for you to maintain more than a few seconds.

“Um-” You hesitated.

“You can say it.” He urged, leaning in.

“My… my pussy.” You finished, staring at the ground.

“Do you want me to play with your pussy now?” He was still staring at you.

“Please.” You breathed, anticipation making your entire body tense.

“Good girl, so polite.” As you shivered at the praise, his eyes made their way down your body, to where your core was at eye-level for him. “If you want to stop, say so, is that clear?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Something dark flashed in his face, then he said, “Good girl.”

His hand came up to run a single digit along your slit, through your underwear. You shook involuntarily at the contact.

“Oh doll, you’re starved, aren’t you?” He murmured, almost to himself. “Let’s get these ruined panties off of you.”

You went to shift your weight so that you could shimmy the garment off, only to freeze as Nicholas tore through it like a piece of paper.

He didn’t even look apologetic. “Hope you didn’t like those too much.”

You didn’t have time to consider it as you realized your cunt was fully visible to him now, slick with your own juices.

He sighed as he stared at your core. “Women are the best thing that bastard ever accomplished.” Then he looked up at you. “I’m gonna use my mouth, that okay, doll?”

“Yes, sir.” Your voice was hoarse from disuse. You felt like you were vibrating in your skin.

He leaned in slowly, as if to not startle you, before running his tongue from your hole to your clit.

The moan you let out was guttural and animalistic.

“There it is.” He said quietly, before diving back into you.

Your head fell back onto the mattress as he lapped at your clit, tongue occasionally diving into your hole. Tears welled up in your eyes at the relief it brought, like jumping into a pool on a hot summer day. Your hands tangled in his long tresses, and he moaned against your pussy. Your hips were bucking into him involuntarily, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it. “Nicholas, I’m gonna- I’m so close-” You practically sobbed.

“Shh, I know, doll. Let it happen.” He said soothingly before going back to his ministrations. You came with a primal moan, back arching off of your sheets.

You were still panting when he stood up, surveying you. “All better?”

“Fuck me.” You demanded.

His expression went stoney. He leaned over until you were caged in by his arms on either side of you. “I don’t fuck demanding brats.”

You lost all your bravado. “Please?”

He sighed softly, but not sincerely. “How bad do you want it?”

You could have cried. “Please, I’m sorry Nicholas, I’ll be good, please fuck me- you don’t know how bad I need it-”

“I just had your greedy little unused hole grinding against my tonsils.” He sneered. “I know exactly how bad you need it.”

Your face went hot at the profane nature of his words- but he was right. He saw firsthand how bad you needed this. “Please.” Was all you said.

“Well, I guess since you’re asking so nicely.” He mocked as he stepped back, unbuckling his pants as he went. He slid off the trousers, his erection visible through his briefs. You suddenly felt nervous, looking at the size of him.

He stopped, seeing your expression. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just- is it gonna fit?”

He pulled the briefs down at last, finally freeing his cock. It was big- even by supernatural proportions. The tip was an angry shade of red, veins pulsating on the shaft. He huffed a laugh at your face, pulling his shirt off, too. “I bet we can find room.”

Your eyes devoured the tattoos that covered him, tracing the planes of his body as you went. You almost didn’t notice him slinking over to you, crawling onto the mattress in one, fluid motion, landing on top of you.

“I’m gonna touch you again, okay?” He looked at you expectantly.

You nodded. “Okay.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, tongue sliding against yours. You whimpered when his fingers were back on your pussy, running along the folds. As you adjusted to his touch, two fingers slipped inside your hole.

“Fuck you’re still so wet,” He muttered, rocking his fingers back and forth inside you. You gasped at the sensation, his fingers so much larger than your own. Moving his mouth down to your neck, he began scissoring his fingers, stretching you out- a preparation you were thankful for.

You felt your second orgasm approaching as he continued his movements, moans growing higher pitched. “Nicholas, I-”

“Think you can hold on?” He asked. It was a genuine question, you knew whatever answer you gave would be correct.

You considered it for a second. “Yeah, I can- I can wait.” Your legs were still beginning to tremble, though.

He placed a kiss on your temple, pulling his fingers out. “I’ll go slow, but we can stop if you want to.”

You nodded an affirmative. He stared at you blankly, and you remembered yourself. “Yes, sir.” He tapped your nose, a gesture that was oddly sweet, as he said “Good girl.”

You felt him line up with your entrance, the tip slowly sliding in. It was still a stretch- but you found that you liked it, liked the feeling of being filled up. He went slowly, thrusting shallowly, each time going a little deeper. You could hear the noises you were making, but couldn’t stop yourself from making them. He paused three-fourths of the way in.

“Doing okay?”

“Yes Nicholas, please don’t stop.” Came your gargled reply.

He smirked, thrusting a few more times until he was fully sheathed in you.

Your back arched clear off the bed as he bottomed out, his tip nestled against something inside you that made you feel feral.

“Like that, doll?” You could hear how smug he was.

“Please, Nicholas, please-” You whined.

“I know, pretty, I’ll give you what you need.” His hands tightened their grip on your waist as he pulled out and slid back in quickly. You let out another carnal wail, your hands coming around to grab at his shoulders. He pulled out again, slamming into you, continuing on until you felt like a puddle on the bed.

“So wet and tight for me, such a good girl.” He grunted as he fucked into you. You nodded pitifully, not sure why, lost in the pleasure. Over and over again he slid against that sweet spot inside you, making you feel like you were on fire. Your orgasm soon approached you like a freight train.

“Nicholas please, I need- I need to come-” You stammered, close to sobbing.

“I know, it’s so much, I know, you can come, doll.” His words opened a dam as your orgasm overcame you in a powerful wave, making you all but scream as he fucked you through it.

He pulled out shortly after, jerking himself to completion on your stomach. You were gasping for air, legs quivering with the aftershocks of your orgasm as hot ropes of come covered you.

You felt disgusting, in the most delicious way possible.

Nicholas disappeared around the corner, returning with a rag to clean you up. He had used hot water, you noted, so it was warm to the touch.

“So that’s a deal?” You asked when he had finished cleaning you.

He looked sad, but the expression was quickly gone. “I suppose it is.”

He set the rag on your bedside table, already going to collect his clothing.

“I have a question, before you disappear again.” You called over his shoulder.

“And what is your question?” He turned around to face you as he pulled on his briefs.

“If I wanted a Grammy,” You began, cocking your head to the side. “What would your rates be for that?”

He gave you a grin, understanding your implication immediately as he dropped his pants back onto the floor.

“I’d be open to negotiation of terms.” He murmured as he made his way back over to the bed, lips slotting against yours once more.

#nicholas ruffilo rpf #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens x reader #bad omens smut #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo x reader #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo smut #nocturnal creatures

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 7 months ago

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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

TW: NSFW, bondage, uncomfy situations

The next time you see Dr. Julian, (which isn’t at the jail, because you fucking tried to go bail him out and they just looked at you like you were crazy when you kept insisting Dr. Julian Mercer had to be in there) he has a red mark around his neck, a black eye, and a bump on his temple that’s almost the size of a chicken egg.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you hiss, rushing over to him. He takes your elbow and ducks the two of you into a supply closet. You think he just wants to have a private conversation, until he backs you into the shelves with a tonsil-inspecting, toe-curling kiss, his big hands digging into your waist. You grab fistfuls of his lab coat, you are so surprised it doesn’t even occur to you to fight him. When he finally pulls back you are breathless—and in shock.

He seems to find this adorable, reaching up to caress your face. “Now all that was worth it,” he says cheekily.

You blink up at him, stupid as a lamb. “Did he hurt you?” you demand, trying to inspect the mark around his neck.

“We reached an understanding,” Julian assures you with a dark look, taking your hands in his own.

“But—“

“Don’t worry about it, y/n. Really.” It comes out like an order, and you don’t really like it when he talks to you that way, but you guess you understand that he doesn’t want to talk about Ludlow anymore.

“Ok.”

You are so going to worry about it. You also know there’s no way in hell that he’s going to want to see you anymore.

He looks down at you with that soft expression that warms your insides. “When’s your next day off?”

You blink again. “Friday?”

“Can I make you dinner?”

“You want…to cook for me?”

“At my place. Around seven. I’ll text you the address.”

You’re still not sure if that was a request or an order, but you’re so dumbfounded that it doesn’t even occur to you to offer an opinion.

“But what about…?”

“I’m not scared of him, y/n.” The marks on his face indicate that maybe he should be, but the set of this man’s jaw indicates that maybe Ludlow has met his match.

“I’m really sorry. About all of this.”

“I already told you, it’s not your fault.” There’s a flinty note in his voice, and you can tell he just wants you to drop it. Inwardly you flinch a little, but you nod.

***

You suppose because he’s banned from being treated by you at the hospital, pulling you over in the dead of night after your shift becomes his go-to game. Maybe you should have started taking a different route home, but the highway was the fastest (and usually safest) way to go, and the thought of changing your personal day-to-day just for this asshole makes you see red. You refuse, and so you keep getting pulled over, four more times for weaker and weaker excuses. Not signaling when changing lanes. Using your phone (you weren’t). An obstruction to vision hanging from your rearview. And the cherry on top—too dim fucking blinkers?

He even has the gall to check up on you, going so far as to inspect your wrists one evening, and turning your head from side to side with an authoritative finger hooked under your chin. “What do you think you’re doing?” you demand.

“Just making sure Dr. Bitch is behaving himself.”

“That is none of your business.”

“If he hurts you I’ll make it my business.” He just says it so casually. Water is wet, the sun is hot, and Tom Ludlow will fuck up Dr. Mercer’s day if he hurts you, even with consensual rough play. No one has ever stuck their neck out for you like that, and it is not helpful, what this misplaced concern does to your insides. This guy is 300% Pure Asshole. You should not be warming to him.

Truth be told, you are nervous about your date with Julian tomorrow night. Maybe he’s being sweet and cooking for you—but it will also be on his home turf, like meeting a wolf in his den. You don’t really think Julian would hurt you. In fact, the thought seems absurd. But then again…people never cease to surprise you. You see the result of mankind’s insatiable bloodthirst every day at work.

Despite your completely misplaced feelings for Officer Tom Ludlow, the fact stands that he is absolutely harassing you, and what he did to Julian outside the coffee shop was totally unacceptable. Maybe you don’t have any money to sue the LAPD like Julian does, but you’re not totally without a voice. The next morning you find yourself going downtown to the Police Headquarters to file a complaint.

The place is bustling, filled with uniforms and plainclothes and people from every walk of life. It reminds you of the hospital in a way, and a wisp of a thought occurs to you that it’s interesting that you and Officer Ludlow engage in the two professions that truly hold together the fabric of society. Politicians like to think what they do is important, but the two of you do the real dirty work to help people survive through their day to day. There could have been something to that between you—if he wasn’t such a fucking creeper in his off hours.

You follow the signs and the directions from various people behind desks to the Complaints Department. It’s a cordoned off area enclosed by glass. With your hand on the door handle you see who is sitting there behind a cheap mdf wood desk, looking unfairly handsome in his black beat uniform.

You freeze.

How the fuck is he everywhere at once? It dawns on you that if he’s working his shift here during the day—he’s fucking with you on his own time at night. It simultaneously creeps you out and thrills you to your toes, and you know you are one sick puppy.

You know you don’t have the guts to march in there and face him, so you decide to bounce. Of course, not before he turns his head at just the right moment. It’s like this man has a radar for your very presence, and your eyes meet through the glass.

He knows exactly why you’re here, of course, and he smirks at you as though to say, ‘Tell me all about it.’

Bastard.

You turn on your heel, and pray he doesn’t follow you.

***

Later that night, you find yourself seated at the island with a glass of white wine in Dr. Mercer’s Spanish Revival style home in Santa Monica, watching him cook for you. He’s utterly edible, in a pressed light blue button down and khakis that should look dorky but somehow he just makes them look GQ worthy. He’s even worn a tie for you. He’s also wearing an apron, and it’s not so corny as to say Kiss The Cook but you did anyway first thing upon walking through the door. You’d asked if you could help with the meal, and he’d declined with a gracious smile.

Now, you’re pretty sure he parked you here so you could get a view of his tight little rear end as he works at the stove.

You take another big sip of wine. It’s really not fair in the least.

He serves up chicken piccata with fresh vegetables out on the patio, complete with candlelight. The warm night breeze is like the breath of angels, and it’s possibly the most romantic dinner anyone has ever treated you to, and it makes you almost uncomfortable inside, how nice all this is. You know he’d said that he liked you, and he didn’t want a perfect girlfriend…but you can’t help but feel like an imposter here.

There were no candlelit dinners with homemade Italian food and fine wine back in Kansas. There were bonfires in someone’s daddy’s back farm field, copious amounts of beer, and you were lucky if you didn’t get knocked up on the bench seat of someone’s rusty old pickup truck before the night was out. Yee fuckin’ haw.

“You alright?” he asks, reaching across the table to touch your hand.

You realize that you have zoned out, while he was talking, again.

“Fine,” you answer quickly, bolstering yourself with another sip of wine. You’re on your second glass now—you should probably slow down, but it’s so good. “I was just thinking…about how nice, all this is. Thank you, Julian. You’re so sweet.”

He smiles at you from across the table, a winsome and heart-squeezing curl of lips, and he’s so handsome even with the now healing black eye.

“I’m maybe sensing some anxiety stemming from Imposter Syndrome,” he says gently.

“Is that your official diagnosis, Doctor?”

You can tell he likes it when you talk this way to him, even outside of the hospital. You can see it in the sparkle of his lovely mocha-brown eyes. “Something like that.” He leans in towards you, his elbows on the little bistro-style table, pinning you with that acute stare. “I don’t know what happened to you, where you came from, y/n. Maybe you’ll trust me enough to tell me later. But I do know that it’s in the past, and it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve something nice for yourself now. Does that make sense?”

It hits way too close to home, and with a sigh you lean back in your chair, unable to meet his eyes again.

“It sounds so easy, when you put it that way.”

He tilts his head as he examines you, and you’re afraid that attentive stare misses nothing. “I could make it easy, for you,” he offers quietly. Something about that soft but oh-so-sure tone lifts every little fine hair on your body, a wave of gooseflesh erupting across your skin. You feel like a rabbit flicking its ears at the sound of danger, not quite sure which direction it’s coming from.

“What do you mean?” you dare ask.

“It’s part of the appeal of submission for some people, to hand over complete control to someone you trust, to let them make you feel good. It can be an almost…therapeutic release. I think I could do that for you.”

Your heart chooses that moment to lodge itself in your throat, and it takes an embarrassingly long few seconds for you to find your voice again. As usual when you feel wildly uncomfortable, you opt for humor. “Wow, do you subscribe this to your patients often?”

He chuckles, and it is dark and rich as bitter chocolate. “No, though maybe I should.”

You can’t help but notice you haven’t even made it through the main course, before he is bringing this up again. It must be something he really wants from you—and a part of you still finds that so hard to believe. He’d said your defiance on that patient’s discharge triggered this need in him. You wonder if there are other things about you, that has made him zero you out. It’s happened to you before. Narcissists just seem to sniff you out like they’re fucking bloodhounds.

Is Julian like that, underneath all the good looks, the pleasantness, the charm?

Does he think you’d be easy to control? Or does he want a challenge because your dumb ass is stubborn as a mule?

Does he know that if things go badly, you have no one here to offer recourse?

Unless, of course, you count Officer Tom Ludlow, but dear lord that is not the backup plan you want to rely on.

“Well…I’m still thinking about all that,” you deflect, throwing your attention into coiling pasta around your fork, trying not to appear like a complete philistine.

He has the grace not to appear disappointed, though there is a certain sharpness in his look now, and you have a feeling Dr. Mercer is not used to not getting his way, eventually.

***

Julian does let you help with the dishes, and pours you yet another glass of wine. “Digestivo,” he says with a perfect accent and a little smile to himself. He explains it’s the word for the “after dinner drink” in Italy. Apparently it’s usually a liquor, but it seems he doesn’t want you that drunk.

At least, not yet.

He asks if you want to watch a movie or listen to some music? You agree, ask him to pick something out, and excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. When you return he is stretched out on the couch, looking utterly handsome, and you find yourself just staring while his head is turned towards the massive TV.

“I know you’re there,” he finally says with a little smile, turning to look at you knowingly. Cautiously you approach, glad for some reason that the tall back of the leather couch is between you. Perhaps the soft little woodland creature that will forever live inside you senses the wolf nearby, even if it’s wearing Brooks Brothers.

“Sorry,” you say apologetically, soft-pawing further into the room. You dare to lean on the back of the couch to look down at him, not quite ready to join him on his level. He seems to understand all too well, and is completely amused by it.

“That’s ok. I can’t keep my eyes off you either. You’re so beautiful.”

You let out a long breath through your nose, never comfortable with what to say to it. You’d been assured by so many people in your early life, that you were in fact an ugly little toad worth less than nothing. Later, those that told you that you were pretty, hurt you in different ways. You wish you could just…take it at face value, and say thanks, without overanalyzing it six hundred ways from Sunday.

“You don’t think so?” He asks, looking up at you with curious eyes. Since you walked through his door tonight, you’ve felt like he’s been studying you, and you sincerely hope it’s not to find your weaknesses and exploit them but rather understand them.

It would be so nice to be understood by a man like Julian, even if he is chaining you to a wall and whipping you while doing it. The thought makes you giggle, and this seems to perplex and amuse him.

“Well?” He asks, reaching up to boldly smooth your cheekbone. “You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

You try to blame your honesty on the wine when you answer truthfully: “not really.”

Most men don’t want to hear about insecurities and flaws; they want self actualized, confident women who carry themselves in a way you’ll never be able to. It's hard to have self esteem, especially when you’ve spent the majority of your life getting told you shouldn’t have any.

“Hmm.” His thumb rests lightly on your chin, and he parts your mouth a little like he means to kiss you, although he makes no actual move to do so. “That’s another thing I could help you with.”

You're a little lost in the white capped crash of your thoughts, of the pleasant heat in his long, skilled fingers, of the endless dark in his blown black eyes. It takes you a full thirty seconds to think about the conversation, and even then you have to stupidly ask: “what?”

“Feeling beautiful, because you are.” Maybe you don’t mind the bossy, matter of fact tone as much when it’s demanding that you’re worthy and pretty.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” You ask, because you can’t stop thinking about how good his mouth feels on your face.

“Ask me nicely.” That big thumb runs a torturous line over your parted bottom lip.

“You ask me,” you challenge, giggling at your own insolence.

Oh, he loves that, when you push back. The wicked, lazy grin says it all. “How about I make you?”

You press your tummy against the soft, worn leather of his couch to lift yourself up and over, cupping his cheeks and pecking a little kiss to his silky lips. “I’d like to see you try.”

Apparently this is the absolute wrong thing—or absolute right thing—to say to this man, to make him spring up and over the couch, lithe as a panther in his pursuit of you, a feral grin in place. You are not proud, but your first instinct is to bolt, a little scream escaping your lips.

Which is stupid, of course, because he has the body of a runner and legs that are a mile long. You have no idea where you are going, down a convenient hallway. You make it three steps before this man has you grabbed up in his long arms, and he is kissing you as though he means to inhale you. He presses you into the wall, his solid weight so delicious against you, and you know there is no escape unless he decides to let you go.

Somehow, you don’t forsee that happening any time soon.

You surge up on tiptoe to meet him with a moan, your hands sliding over the trim muscles of his chest. He easily grasps both your wrists in his one, obscenely big paw, pinning them above your head.

He pulls back to assess what you think about this, his dark eyes blown wide with desire. You can barely breathe past your heart thundering in your chest, your thighs pressed tightly in a sad attempt to relieve some of the ache between them. You lips are kiss-swollen and moist with his saliva, and you lick them, tasting him. His gaze fixes on your mouth hungrily, before lifting to your eyes again.

When you give the barest nod, he leans in to kiss you again, slower this time, but no less claiming. His lips are soft, and clever, and wreak havoc with your ability to think coherently. And when he slips his lean thigh between your legs so that you might get some relief, you think you might just expire from the pent up desire threatening to burst you at your seams.

It’s not good, you know, when you can’t help but think about Detective Tom Ludlow, and how part of this aching madness in your loins is built up from his brash brand of torture, and you can’t help but imagine what it might be like to feel his rough hands pinning you to the wall like a butterfly. Maybe it’s just the wine, but these distracted thoughts are not good at all.

Julian half carries you, half guides you in a halting walk further down the hallway, opening a door and ushering you inside. It’s a bedroom, though if its his room, you can’t really tell at a glance. It’s nicely decorated, fairly normal, no chains hanging from the ceilings or racks on the walls, and the bed is soft as he presses you back into it with another bone-melting kiss.

He props himself on his elbows so he can look down at you with a mischievous warm smile that lights up your insides. “You really are beautiful,” he tells you gently, tracing your hairline at your temple.

God. If he keeps telling you like this, maybe you will start believing him.

You tug on his tie to bring him back to you, craving another of his sweet kisses. He narrows his eyes at you playfully, and you watch with fascination as he reaches up to loosen the silk noose around his neck.

“Wait.” You halt him, hand on his chest, and he stops the little show.

“What? You okay?” It doesn’t occur to you that this man is just as needy as you are until you hear the heavy pant in his voice, the gravelly scratch of desire polluting his usual smooth pitch that reminds you way too much of someone else that you’re trying not to think about—and failing miserably at.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for all of that,” you say honestly, opening up raw in exchange for the concern on his pretty, angled face.

“Being tied up?” He asks, smoothing your hair off your temple.

“No, I’ve been tied up before.” Although that’s a story for a different day, it’s not like you’re the Virgin Mary, and you don’t want to be—you don’t want him to think that you are—a prude.

“Was it…a bad experience for you?” As he asks this he strokes your hair, petting you like soothing an animal with his light touch.

You hate to say, it’s working.

“Kind of.”

“Maybe…they didn’t stop something you didn’t like when you asked them to?”

That was the understatement of the century.

You close your eyes against the sinking feeling that overcomes you, when you even slightly crack the lockbox that is your stockpile of unpleasant memories from your youth.

“No,” you answer simply, but you know he can hear it all in the roughness of your voice in that one small word.

“What if we have a safeword? If I do anything you don’t like, you say the word, and I promise you I will stop.”

You freeze like a rabbit that's been spotted by a predator, as you mull this over. You know that’s how these things are supposed to go. But once a man has you tied up and at his mercy…he can do anything he wants with you. And men can be so awful, when they feel like they have all the power in their hands.

Is this man awful? It certainly doesn’t seem so. But dear god, you have been so wrong before.

“Maybe….” You roll your eyes up to the ceiling, searching for the right words, determined, for once, not to hide your own needs in favor of someone else’s. “Maybe if you help me understand why this is something you need so much?”

You know it’s possible you’re killing the vibe with such a demand—but maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to slow down and talk.

He blinks down at you, undoubtedly not used to being inquisitioned like this by anyone. “That’s…a big question.”

A surge of annoyance rises in you—as if dating isn’t dangerous enough for women as it is—he’s literally asking you to trust him with your life.

“Oh my god. Ok, get off.” You start to squirm beneath him, pushing at his chest. For a moment you panic, because he is big, and you know he’s not going anywhere, unless he wants to.

To his credit, and your great surpriseâ€“he actually does. He seems disappointed, and his breathing is heavy, his beautiful hair disheveled, but he’s not angry. At least, as far as you can tell. He shoves his hands in his pockets, maybe to keep them off of you.

It is hard not to stare at the sizeable bulge in his preppy khakis.

He blows a long breath out of his nostrils, closing his eyes. “I like to be in charge,” he tells you quietly, not opening his eyes, “Because when I was far too young, my stepmother groomed me to be her pretty plaything. I thought I was getting revenge on my father, because I was angry at him for divorcing my mother. But the joke was on me. I did…anything she asked, and she asked a lot. I didn’t even realize how fucked up it was, until I went away to college. When she sensed she was losing her hold on me, she actually tried to get me to drop out, then she tried to get me expelled. She was a fucking piece of work, and that’s why I am the way I am.”

When at last he works up the courage to look at you, he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed in your pretty dress like a rumpled flower, with tears in your eyes for him. “I’m so sorry, Julian…” You reach for him, even though you’re unsure he even wants to be held.

“And I like to bind my partners’ hands, because sometimes being touched during what should be the most wonderful act a man can enjoy reminds me of her, and I can’t stand it. Even…when I’m with someone who I want to touch me.” He gives you a pointed look then, and you understand, and you don’t think he’s trying to manipulate you. He’s just telling you an ugly truth.

Now, it seems you’re both agitated, and what had promised to be a lovely evening is now spiraling down into the abyss. You can’t help but feel responsible for that.

Julian shakes himself, and shakes his head. You feel him drawing away from you, even before he’s moved his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Then he does start to retreat, but you reach out to him. “Julian, wait…”

He freezes in his tracks, looking up at you through the curtain of his silky hair.

“Pineapple.”

He lifts an eyebrow, genuinely confused. “Excuse me?”

“That’s my safe word.”

To be honest, you’re not entirely sure if you’re doing this because you want to, or because as usual, you sense someone needs a part of you for their own wellbeing, more than you think you do.

His mouth twists in a smile seemingly involuntarily. “I suppose that isn’t something one usually hears in the throes of passion.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

“Yes.” His look sharpens upon you then, and you feel a fresh gush of moisture between your legs, your bare toes curling. Suddenly, he seems taller, somehow, as though he’s taking up more space in the room than before. “Are you sure about this, y/n?”

Not really, but this won’t be the first time you jump in head first to something you don’t know if you can handle. “Yeah. I believe you, when you say you won’t hurt me.”

Maybe you’re not sure exactly where the whole punishment thing fits in he was talking about earlier, but you assume you’ll get to that later.

He nods, his nostrils flaring as he looks you over again. You watch as his chest rises and falls with deep breaths. And then he returns to loosening that shining blue silk tie from his neck, sliding the fine fabric between his long fingers. “I picked this color tonight because I thought it would look so pretty on you,” he admits.

“How…thoughtful?” You can’t help but tease him, even if your heart is suddenly hammering in your chest.

“Hmm. Someone always has something smart to say.” He strides across the room to you, boldly standing between your legs at the edge of the bed.

“I think you like it?” You can’t help the squeak in your voice, and it makes him smirk down at you. It’s unnervingly similar to someone else who likes to throw around an insouciant half smile, and your fingers curl in the bedspread by your thighs.

Do not think about Tom right now.

It’s too late, of course.

“Give me your hands.” There is that authoritative tone again, that makes everyone at the hospital and out in the real world stand at attention. Everyone, but Tom Ludlow, of course. Unbidden, the image of Tom’s fist making that irreverent gesture out the window enters your head—and like the idiot you are, you smile.

It causes Julian to look at you strangely, searching you out. “What’s so funny?”

You sigh, closing your eyes against that probing stare. “I don’t know,” you deflect, master of the witty riposte as always. Hoping to distract him, you offer up your wrists. “Like this?” you ask, and golly if your ploy doesn’t work.

“That’s my good girl.” A damning warmth spreads through you from his praise, and you watch with fascination as he loops your wrists with the blue silk, tying it off with a beautiful bow that does look pretty against your skin. “We’ll start with this,” he tells you. “If you really want, you can undo it with your teeth.”

Biting your lip, you nod up at him, appreciating the gesture.

“Tell me the safeword?” He asks, lifting your hands up above your head, looking absolutely feral, ready to eat you alive.

“Pineapple,” you tell him, flexing your hands above your head and pushing your tits out for him. God, it’s been forever since you’ve had anything inside you besides your own boring fingers, and you’re more than ready for him to take the straining bulge out of his pants and slip it into your perpetually aching cunt.

“Keep your hands above your head for me?” You can tell by his tone that it’s more of a demand than an ask, but at least he's trying to be sweet despite wrestling internally with some beast that wants to bind you immobile and shove a gag in your mouth.

Every hair stands on end at just the thrill of having his silky, non committed tie around your wrists, so you wonder how you’d fair in something stricter. Apparently, your vagina likes the theory of it, because she pulses insistently for some kind of attention—Jesus, any kind of attention that’s not just from you.

You and her may argue sometimes—much more now that Ludlow has kicked the imaginary door of your life down and stormed in for a raid—but you still share the same brain, and both of you agree that Julian is very fucking hot while he takes off his upper attire to reveal toned, tight, thin muscle and perfect golden skin.

“Is there, um, anything you want me to call you?” You ask, little toes curling and flexing on his comforter.

“You want to properly address me?” His teeth peek out of the wayward grin, hands slipping the belt out of his pants and filling you with Tom thoughts again.

“Yeah, I do.”

“How about Doctor? Something familiar?”

“Something tells me you’ve thought of this scenario before,” you muse, toying with the wrought iron post of his bed. You have to admit, Doctor isn’t your favorite term of endearment, but you suppose that if it makes him fuck you sooner it doesn’t really matter.

Sans pants, his cock tents and fills his briefs, and that tiny creature living inside you comes out of her burrow to remind you that she’s very, very hungry. He really is a gorgeous specimen of a man. You could probably find his mimic in a museum statue or erotic magazine with only one huge, girthy difference.

How the fuck is that monster not going to hurt you after years of only having your own little fingers for comparison?

“Jesus,” you breathe, unaware that you say it out loud at first.

He pumps his hand once or twice over the silk coated shaft, showing off that big, beautiful cock and rubbing a bead of pearly cum over the tip. “Hands above your head, y/n, and don’t make me say it a third time.”

You bite your lip hard to keep from groaning in protest and place those conniving, sneaky limbs up above you again. “Yes, Doctor.” It would sound strange to you if you had any common sense right now—if your brain wasn’t currently leaking out of your cunt.

A little piece of you—actually and worryingly it’s more than just a little piece—wants to challenge him to see exactly what he’ll do.

“Do you want me to tell you what I wanted to do to you when you disobeyed my orders?”

“Spank me?” You ask, words too bold for how you’re feeling—how your whole body is overflowing with burning, bashful blood and sinking into the cushion of his bed to hide.

He laughs, low and wicked, and shakes his head. At least you get a little needy grumble from him, although you’re not sure if that’s because he’s stroking his cock or not. “No, not spank you. I think you’d enjoy that too much.”

“Then what?” You raise your chin a little bit, and the look he pins you with reminds you of what wild horses must see in the person’s eyes that wants to ride and break and domesticate them. A little panic alarm lights up your brain, and it gets louder the more he talks.

“Instead of rubbing these tired, sore feet, I would have gotten a thin piece of finished wood and whipped them with it.”

Your toes instantly curl and tuck in defense, heels digging into the bed to shy away from his mean words. “I don’t know if I’d like that,” you admit.

“That’s the point of a punishment, little girl. You’re not supposed to like it.” Julian transforms into something scary for the first time, and you think this might be that dominant side of him coming to bat again. You don’t really like it when he’s all business no play, void of jokes and grins, snarling like a rabid jaguar.

“Julian, I don’t think I’m comfortable with that. It scares me.”

His ferocity goes limp right along with his dick, and the sight of that makes you want to scream and cry and pound your fists on the floor like a tantrum throwing child. Your vagina, who was just minutes ago getting along with you, once again wants you dead.

Dr. Jekyll sits beside you on the bed and puts a soothing, heating pad hand on your belly. “I’m sorry, are you alright? I shouldn’t have gone into that so fast. I got carried away. It’s been a while.”

Although his apology is warranted, and what he says is true about going too far, that caretaker in your blood wants nothing more than to soothe him while he has a mini existential crisis about making you feel uncomfortable. You sit up and rub his shoulders with bound hands.

“Julian, it’s okay. I get it. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for,” he replies, combing a hand through his soft hair. “We should have discussed details before jumping in. I just”—he cups your cheek and kisses your head—“I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

The thought of having to go through a detailed discussion before having sex with your partner every time has the opposite effect of Tom Ludlow’s—fuck, here he is again—spontaneity and makes your pussy dry up.

As though he senses you’re about to take your teeth to his very nice silk tie, he turns to unbind your hands with one deft pull. You feel fine, but you can’t stop yourself from rubbing your wrists. You sit there in the quiet together for what feels like a long time, your head resting lightly on his shoulder.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” He takes your hand, kissing your palm. “That thing I told you? It’s not something I offer up freely to anyone. Not even my playmates.”

You nod against him. “I understand.”

“I just…wanted you to know me.”

The human need to lay yourself bare in the hopes of acceptance is something you understand all too well—and something you never do anymore, because it just always ends badly. That he wanted you that much squeezes your heart in a merciless fist, because the healer in you wants to help him, but you’re not sure you can give this man what he really needs.

“Did you…want me before I talked back to you?” Suddenly the question is burning in your brain and you have to know.

Julian smirks at that. “You’ve always talked back to me, y/n.” With that he kisses your forehead, and starts to get dressed again.

What a goddamned shame.

It’s totally not helpful, but you can’t stop yourself from thinking that if Tom had you in this position tonight, you wouldn’t be able to walk right, and not because you’d said the wrong thing and got yourself punished with a sliver of wood or whatever the fuck Julian kept in his closet.

You wouldn’t be going home feeling even emptier than when you arrived.

Maybe, you wouldn’t be going home at all.

Julian asks you to stay with him a while longer to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie—some cheap new thriller that makes you both jump and gasp. It’s sort of funny, to watch the man that was just spouting off his desire to use ancient torture methods on you get scared at a guy with a shiny knife popping out of bushes.

At one point, while you’re laying on his bare chest and inhaling the citrusy sweat of his skin and becoming increasingly warm to the idea of giving his discarded silky tie another try, you start tracing your fingers down the hard line of his stomach, flicking over the elastic of his thin sweatpants.

He stalls your movement, and looks down at you apologetically. “Not tonight, honey.”

You know he was just fiending for your bound form with his dick in his hand, so you’re not sure why he’s stopping you, but your woe-is-me brain immediately, and as usual, jumps to the conclusion that he never wanted you in the first place.

You will not be the giving tree anymore. You will not be the obsessed, lovesick girl willing to do anything just to get that same love back. You won’t—you can’t—do it again.

“It’s late,” you sigh, sitting up. You’ve long sobered from dinner, and you’re tired, and you kind of want to be alone so you can go home and cry. “Thank you for dinner.” You’re not so sure about the rest, and in the rueful curl of Julian’s lips you can tell he’s well aware how disappointing all this was. For both of you, you suppose. He kisses you goodnight at the door, and you get in your car to drive home.

#tom ludlow x reader #street kings #tom ludlow #keanuverse fic #keanuverse

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avelera · 8 months ago

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I've been talking with a few people irl about the TikTok ban and I was wondering if I could get your take on it? (iirc you work in election security). Mainly I'd like to know why TikTok/China is *uniquely* bad wrt dating mining/potential election interference when we've seen other companies/governments do the same thing (thinking of the Russian psyops here on Tumblr in 2016). It feels like the scope is so narrow that it doesn't come close to targeting the root problem (user privacy and data mining as a whole), leading me to think it's only point is "ooh China Scary". Thoughts? (No worries if you'd rather not get into it, I just thought of you as someone who might have more insight/informed opinions on the matter).

So I'm not really familiar with all the details of the case and certainly not all the details of the bill. But I will give my perspective:

TikTok as a particular threat to users' data and privacy has been known for some time in the cybersecurity world. US government employees and contractors have been straight-up forbidden to have it on their phones for some time now. I, for example, have never had it on my phone because of these security concerns. (Worth noting, I'm not a government employee or contractor, it was just a known-to-be dangerous app in the cybersecurity world so I avoided it.)

This is because the parent company, as I understand, has known connections to the Chinese government that have been exploited in the past. For example, to target journalists.

Worth noting, another app that would potentially be on the chopping block is WeChat, which also has close ties to (or is outright owned by?) the Chinese government. This is just speculation on my part but it's based on the fact that all the concerns around TikTok are there for WeChat too and it has also been banned on government devices in some states, so I imagine it would be next if the bill passes.

I think this is important to note because I've seen some hot takes here on Tumblr have said that the entire case against TikTok is made up and there is no security threat. That is simply not true. The concerns have been there for a while.

However, the question of what to do about it is a thorny one.

The determination seems to be that so long as TikTok is still owned by its parent company with its direct ties to the Chinese government, there really is no way to guarantee that it's safe to use. From that angle, demanding that the company sever ties and set up some form of local ownership makes sense.

I am not a lawyer, but, that being said, forcing them to sell their local operations to a locally-based buyer is a pretty invasive and unusual step for legislators to take against a private company, even in a clear case of spying. I'm sure TikTok's widespread popularity is a big part of the threat it poses, which lends to the argument used to justify such an extreme step. (Because it is on so many phones, it really could be a danger to national security.)

That said, at one point young activists on TikTok embarrassed Trump (lots of good context in this article) while he was campaigning in 2020, and there was some talk then about shutting it down which seemed pretty clearly linked to how it was used as a platform to organize against him. I'm sure there's at least some right wing antipathy towards the app that has a political basis going back to this event. Trump signed an executive order banning it, the ban going into effect got bogged down in the courts, and then Biden rescinded that executive order when he got into office, pending an investigation into the threat it posed.

Those investigations seem to have further confirmed that the Chinese government is getting access to US user data through the app, and further confirmed it as a security threat.

Now, to muddy the waters further, there's several dodgy investment funds including one owned by former Secretary of the Treasury to Trump Steven Mnuchin that are circling with an interest to buy TikTok if it does sell. That's very concerning.

Funds like Mnuchin's interest in purchasing TikTok (even though they do invest in other technologies too, so it is in their portfolio) definitely makes the motivations behind the sale look pretty damning as momentum builds, that it could be some sort of money grab here in the US.

China has also pointed out that forcing the sale of a company because of spying concerns like this opens a whole can of worms. If China thinks that, say, Microsoft is spying on their citizens, could they force the US company to sell its operations in China to a Chinese investor? Could they force Google? Could they even further polarize the internet in general between "free" and "not free" (as in, behind the great Chinese or Russian firewall, as examples) if this precedent is set, so that no Western companies can operate in authoritarian states without selling their local operations there to a government-controlled organization, and thus be unable protect their users there? Or, if you don't have so rosy a view of Western companies, could it effectively deal a blow to international trade in general by saying you have to have to sell any overseas arms of a company to someone who is from there? Again, I'm not a lawyer, but this is a hell of a can of worms to open.

But again, this is muddy because China absolutely is spying on TikTok users. The security reason for all of this is real. What to do about it is the really muddled part that has a ton of consequences, and from that angle I agree with people who are against this bill. Tons of bad faith consequences could come out of it. But the concerns kicking off the bill are real.

#current events #tiktok drama

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justmystyles · 1 year ago

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Was thinking how fun it would be to meet harry at an art museum. Like what if y/n had an assignment for grad school that she put off until the last minute, and so she finally gets to the museum and it's closed for a private tour (Harry's). She sweet talks a guard into asking harry if she could enter the museum, just to look at one painting for a bit. Harry is initially annoyed but agrees and is pleasantly surprised that she doesn't try to interact with him. Before he leaves, he goes to where she is and apologizes for closing the museum, and idk asks her to join him for lunch? It goes from there with flirting and a quick no strings fling

A Work of Art

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 1.3k

summary: after procrastinating for a few weeks, you finally make moves to finish your assignment, but run into an unexpected road block.

a/n: thank you so much for this ask, my friend! i'm so sorry it took me so long to get it out. i hope it was worth the wait!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

“Sorry miss, we’re closed.” The guard said, stone faced.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. It was your own fault for waiting until the last minute, but you thought you had all day. “But you’re supposed to be open until five.”

“We’re closed for a private tour.” He responded, showing no sign of emotion.

You let out a frustrated groan, your paper is due at midnight and there was no way you were going to finish without getting in there and looking at that painting. You pace back and forth on the sidewalk, trying to figure out your next move. All that comes to mind is begging and pleading.

You take a deep breath and step back up to the guard. “Please, there has to be something you can do. I only need to look at one painting. Maybe if they are done in the room I need to be in, I could just go straight there. I won’t be a bother, I promise.”

The guard rolled his eyes, groaning in frustration. “You’re not going to leave until I ask, are you?”

“Nope!” You said with an obnoxious smirk.

“Wait here.” The guard said sternly before turning and walking into the museum.

He returned with a second guard, and the nerves started to set in. Were they going to physically remove you and ban you from the museum for life?

“Alright, here’s the deal, " the original guard began. “You’re going to go see your painting, but you go straight there and you stay there until it’s time to leave. My friend Hank here will be with you to make sure you don’t go rogue.”

You nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

“Phone please,” Hank holds out his hand, palm up.

“My phone?” Your brow furrows in confusion.

“The party that rented out the space will only let you in if you give us your phone, for his privacy. You’ll get it back when you’re done.”

You don’t understand who this mystery museum goer could possibly be, but they were obviously a big deal. You hesitantly relinquished your phone, and Hank led you into the museum, walking you directly to the room where your painting was housed.

As you studied the piece, taking notes as you evaluated each color choice and brush stroke, your mind couldn’t help but wander to the other person currently wandering the museum. You secretly hoped your paths would cross, just out of sheer curiosity of who it could possibly be.

“Are you finished yet?” Hank asked with a hint of annoyance.

“It would be quicker if I had my phone, so I could take pictures.” You matched his tone.

He rolled his eyes, pulling your phone out of his breast pocket and handing it to you. “Pictures of the painting only. No flash.”

You gave him a mock solute, immediately opening your camera and taking a few shots, zooming in on particular areas. You were so focused on the painting that you didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind you.

“Phone, now.” Hank snapped.

“What? But I’m not done!” You protest.

“It’s alright, she’s fine.” Another voice pulls your attention and you turn around, seeing Harry Styles standing behind you.

“Thanks,” you mumble, returning your attention to the painting and taking a few more pictures.

Harry watches you curiously, he had expected a bit more of a reaction when you saw him. You had gone through all this trouble to sneak into the museum he had gone to the trouble of booking out, specifically so he wouldn't be bothered. He allowed you in, against his better judgment, but you weren’t a problem at all. He felt oddly disappointed by that.

Once you had taken your final pictures, and one more glance at the painting, you turned to Hank and let you know you were ready to go. He nodded and started to lead you toward the exit.

“Wait!” Harry called, stopping you in your tracks. “I just wanted to apologize for closing the museum.”

“It’s fine, I ended up getting what I needed.” You shrugged. He obviously didn’t want to be bothered, that's why he had the museum shut down in the first place.

“Well, would you like to walk around the rest of the museum with me?” He asked, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Thanks, but I should get home and finish my assignment.”

“Aww, c’mon,” his tone became more playful. “How often are you going to have a whole museum all to yourself?”

You study his expression, trying to figure out why he’s gone from no phones, don’t bother me to wanting to walk through the entire place with you. “Why?”

“As a peace offering, for making things difficult on you.”

You stood in silence for a moment as you weighed out your options. He was right, this was probably a once in a lifetime opportunity. Complete, unobstructed access to the entire museum. “Sure,” you finally agreed.

As you moved to the next room, Harry looked at you curiously. “So what was it about that one painting that you absolutely had to get in here today?”

“I’m an art history major, and I have an assignment due tomorrow analyzing that piece.”

He stopped, turning to you with an arched brow. “And you’re just getting around to looking at it today?” You shrugged in response. “How long did you have to work on this assignment?”

You rolled your eyes at his comment. “Okay mom, thanks.” You both chuckled.

“So,” Harry continued on. “Art history, that’s pretty cool, how’d you end up choosing that?”

You talked to Harry a bit about your love of art, and the things that led you to selecting your major, as well as the panic your parents had when you chose such a niche field of study. The conversation flowed easily between the two of you. You got to know each other, and discussed the art around you, sharing what you saw in the pieces, and how they made you feel.

When the two of you returned to the entrance, you looked down at your watch with wide eyes. The two of you had spent three hours going through every square inch of the museum, and you actually had a really great time. When you first saw Harry, you were annoyed, he was just an entitled celebrity making the world harder for everyone else just to get his way. But after spending time with him and getting to know him, he actually turned out to be really down to earth, and pretty cool. You felt a pang of disappointment knowing that you were about to part ways.

“Thank you,” you said to him, looking into his kind green eyes. “For letting me in to look at my painting, and also for walking around the museum with me.”

“It was my pleasure,” He smiled kindly at you. “It was actually way more fun to walk around with someone who knows what they’re talking about.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Harry. You had some pretty insightful things to say back there.”

He grinned wide, his dimples on full display. “Oh stop,” he waved his hands playfully. “Hey, you want to go grab a bite to eat?”

“I would love to but I’ve got–”

“Your assignment to finish.” He completed your thought. “I know, but you’re not going to get anything done on an empty stomach. Come on, my treat.”

He gives you a hopeful smile, as if he doesn’t want to leave you yet. You definitely don't want to leave him. “Yeah, sure.” You agree, trying to play it cool.

“Great! C’mon, I’ve got a car waiting out front!” He held the door for you and the two of you made your way to his car, and then on to dinner.

You submitted your assignment just before the deadline, and you walked away from dinner with a kiss on the cheek and Harry’s number. All in all, it was a good day.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles meet cute #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n

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jisungsdaydreamer · 1 year ago

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Stray Kids as High School Romance AUs

Pairing: OT8 x fem!reader Genre: headcanon, fluff, angst if you squint Warnings: mentions of bullying but nothing super serious! Word Count: 5.4k

Lee Know

The mysterious one, a classic tsundere

You know that one kid who’s been in your class since you were a little kid but you still don’t know anything about them? Minho right there.

He sits in the back of class and says nothing, even though some of his friends (aka the rest of the boys) are so loud at lunch

He would just quietly eat his sandwich before he catches you watching him and stares right back at you, making you awkwardly look away

You’re so intrigued that you keep observing him, noticing little things like the cat stickers his phone is covered in, or the fact that he’s the secret mastermind behind the pudding trading business that your principal banned from school

Your first interaction with Minho is when you stumble upon him feeding a couple stray cats in the abandoned playground in your community

He’s super embarrassed to be caught being all soft and cute, especially given his cold front at school, but eventually warms up to you when you offer the cats some bread from your pocket

Meeting at the playground to pet the cats or just sit on the swings in a comfortable silence becomes your thing with Minho. You get to know each other better, and turns out, he’s actually really unhinged and chaotic and hilarious. The mysterious and borderline emo thing he worked is just a facade.

But things don’t change at school, because you feel like you don’t have an excuse to talk to him there.

Until one random day, he just walks into class and wordlessly sets his bag next to your chair

“Why are you sitting next to me?”

“I should be able to sit next to my girl, right?”

You’re confused and exhilarated and kind of skeptical until Minho explains that for some time now, he’s seen you as his girlfriend. Who else would he sacrifice his dance lessons for? Feeding the cats together was basically a date, right? Do you not feel the same about him?! Wait, what?!!?

He’s all shy now and unsure and panicking internally, until you squeeze his hand under the desk and whisper to him that you like him too

You meet more often from there on, and he’s the kind of loving and attentive boyfriend that doesn’t say much, but will do anything for you.

He takes an extra water bottle to school everyday, just in case if you forgot, and brings you delicious lunches that he made himself

Going to cat cafés and long drives around town are musts for you both

And when his friends tease him about you, he fiercely swats them away before retreating to you for cuddles like one of his beloved kittens

He’s soft only for you

So sweet ^ω^

2. Hyunjin

Everyone has a little bit of a crush on Hyunjin. The girls who fawn over his good looks, the creative writing kids who pine over poems they spin about him, and even the sweet old lady at the front desk.

And you’re not immune.

You’ve basically had a huge crush on him since your first day of high school

You’ve done a couple of assignments together and how sweet and charming he is never fails to get you screaming into your pillow when you get home

He once bought you an iced americano at the coffee shop when you were partnered together on a project for school, and even though you didn’t like it, you drank the whole thing.

The smile on his face was worth it

Now that you’re in senior year, you can’t help but wish he’d ask you to prom

But that would never happen, because someone as wanted as Hyunjin would never like you

Except he does. Ever since he first saw you in biology class, he’s been floored.

You don’t think he even remembers you outside of class, but the man is so down bad that he watches you doing anything and everything.

Not in a creepy way ＾▿＾

You’ll be sitting outside in the grass with your friends during lunch, and Hyunjin will also be observing you, sitting against a tree and sketching you in his little notebook like the lover boy he is

You laughing. You sipping on your mango juice. You tucking back your hair.

Bro is just in love.

You randomly find a small sketch of yourself in your bag. It’s beautiful, but you’ve no idea who drew it, even after asking around

More of these drawings show up, everywhere. In your notebook. On your desk. In your glasses case. You wonder who this mystery artist is, and why they chose you to be their muse.

One rainy afternoon, you are trying to find your missing bracelet and find Hyunjin painting in the empty art room

His clumsy self almost falls out of his chair when you walk in on him

He tries to hide his painting canvas from you until you get suspicious and look over his shoulder.

It’s a simple portrait of you just smiling

You nearly cry at how beautiful and raw it is, but are also ecstatic because Hyunjin is your secret admirer/artist?!

He confesses his feelings at that point, seeing no point in hiding them any longer, and also unveils the bottom half of the portrait that you hadn’t noticed

PROM? is written in big, bold letters because we all know Hyunjin is extra

He then pulls out a rose, which is a little crumpled from being in his pocket. He pouts about it until you kiss him on the cheek and thank him, accepting his promposal

Hyunjin, the beautiful, unattainable one, is actually the sensitive romantic, and he turns red when you kiss him

You guys are the hottest couple at senior prom, tearing up the dance floor before Hyunjin whisks you away in his car, driving you to a secluded gazebo where he has candles and snacks and everything set up, and you guys just lie there, exchanging hushed “I love you’s” for the first time and gazing out at the stars

3. Changbin

Changbin has been your older brother’s very best friend ever since they both met in their first year of high school

At the gym.

Both your brother and Changbin were kind of unpopular, so both of them were bullied often. And being on the skinnier side, it also made it easier for them to get beat up

So your brother decided to get toned to protect himself, and he ended up registering at your local gym. And guess who he runs into there?

Changbin!

They both become gym buddies, and eventually, bond outside of their work-outs

And bonding includes meeting his baby sister, you.

Changbin had brought a box of biscuits for your mom and a bag of candy for you.

He was one whole year older than you, but your eighth grade self was WHIPPED.

From then on, you follow Changbin around everywhere.

And you know what? He never gets annoyed.

He always talks to you without getting embarrassed and even includes you in his conversations with friends, even when your brother clearly tries to kick you out.

But he always sees you as his best friend’s younger sister, like his own sister. You watch him go through many relationships, but your crush on him never wavers.

And in due time, he becomes real buff. Which doesn’t help. At all.

So you keep your feelings for him as a secret, even though all you really want to do is confess to him and have him all to yourself, because you know he’d probably have to gently reject you.

By the time your junior year rolls around, you know you’re going to be watching Changbin and your big brother graduate together. You don’t have much time left before he leaves town to go to college, and you don’t know how often you’ll see him.

You overhear a lot of the senior girls gossiping about who Changbin might ask out to prom, and everyone whispers about some girl named Soyeon.

You know who they’re talking about; Soyeon is one of Changbin’s good friends, and she, your brother, and Changbin have hung out together multiple times.

You’re instantly filled with so. much. jealousy.

Because of course he’d choose a hot, cool girl that’s actually his age, over you.

And you’ve even noticed how Changbin has been spending less and less time with you, always dashing off in the middle of conversations or hurrying away to do “homework.”

But you’d rather leave than be left.

From then on, you try to avoid Changbin as much as possible, because liking him was hurting you, more than you’d like to admit, because he didn’t even know. He was your first love.

A few days of ignoring Changbin’s texts and pretending not to see him in the halls, well, of course Changbin will notice.

He knocks on your front door and you open it. Immediately, you assume he’s here for your brother, and you look away.

“My brother’s at soccer practice right now. He can’t hang out.”

“No, actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

You’re surprised, and a little nervous, but still, you let him in, leading him to the kitchen.

Wordlessly, Changbin heads over to the freezer, pulling out a pint of ice cream, and then a bowl from the dishwasher. He hands a bowl full of rocky road to you, and your heart immediately melts.

He knows you so well; when you’re feeling down, you love ice cream. And he knows your family too, where everything in the kitchen is :(((

“Are you going to tell me why you’re avoiding me?”

You try to deny it, but one look from him and you’re a goner. You can’t ever lie to him.

“I heard you’re taking Soyeon to prom.”

Changbin looks confused.

“We’re just friends though???”

“But I heard—”

Changbin rolls his eyes.

“You believe gossip too much. I was going to ask you.”

Now you’re really unconvinced.

“Sure. As your little sister.”

Uhhhh, nope.

Changbin groans, and for the first time, he lowkey looks kind of shy.

“I was going to surprise you, and I kept getting nervous, so that’s why I kept rushing off when we were hanging out.”

You feel the happy bubbles rising in your chest, but you’re still kind of unconvinced, until Changbin pulls out his phone and shows you his background.

It’s a selfie of you and him.

So you both ended up going to prom together, and yes, your brother was watching you both very, very carefully. After, you guys did make it official and started dating over the summer.

When changbin left for college, you guys still stayed together. He’d come back home to visit you a lot, and you guys facetimed multiple times a week.

Changbin would even help you on your college applications and edit your essays

And he’d also come back for your senior prom, and you guys would go together again.

He’s so cute help meee (✿◠‿◠)

4. Han

You’ve been friends with Jisung ever since you were in diapers.

Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. You became friends in middle school, but Jisung insists that it feels like you were meant to be best friends with him since you both were born.

You met on a cloudy Monday morning during the first week of middle school, when Jisung plopped down in the chair next to you and introduced himself to you.

Even with your efforts to ward off his friendship, forever wary of strangers, he soon became a part of your daily life, and you actually began to look forward to his antics in class everyday. He made everything so much more interesting and fun, and you love him for it.

Fast forward a few years later, you’re both in your junior year in high school. Both of you are still best friends.

And there’s also Minho, this hot senior you can't talk about because you claim he’s as mysterious as the moon.

Yeahhh, Jisung isn’t buying that crap. To him, Minho is a blank notebook. Boring. He just doesn’t get what you see in that guy!

He whines whenever you bring up Minho, and once, he was so excited that you invited him to Chipotle, but then he realizes it was only because you wanted to inconspicuously spy on Minho, who was also there for lunch.

Jisung ended up grumbling over his rice bowl and then storming out of the restaurant when you *accidentally* went to the soda fountain at the same time as Minho

Later that night, you confront him about why he ditched you at the Chipotle. Jisung gets annoyed and says he doesn’t like how you were using him to be your spy-buddy

And now you’re annoyed, because is that all he got from that?!!!!

Muttering to yourself, you walk home and ignore Jisung’s call to your retreating back

FOR GOD’S SAKE, YOU’RE TRYING TO MAKE YOUR BEST FRIEND JEALOUS.

Your crackhead best friend is the one you like, because puh-lease, Minho is too emo for you.

Jisung keeps texting you all night, but you ignore him, because you’re angry. How dense could your best friend be? Your “mysterious moon” reason for liking Minho was bullshit?! Can’t he take a hint?! Like-

Jisung interrupts your deliberating by throwing a small pebble onto your window

Although you’re still irritated, you guide Jisung up the small tree next to your window (in the process, he nearly falls off to his doom)

Once he’s inside your room, Jisung sits on the bed and you stand in front of him, arms folded like you’re his annoyed parent

“What do you want, Ji? It’s midnight”

He thrusts out a bag of twizzlers towards you, and you just can’t resist. Candy is your weakness, and it’s what he always bribes you with when you get mad at him

“Iwasntmadbecauseyoumademecometochipotletospyonminho”

“Sorry?”

But Jisung keeps going without slowing down, like the menace he is.

“Iwasmadbecauseilikeyouandimjealousofminho.”

“Yo, what??!”

“I LIKE YOU, JEEZ!”

You rush forward and clamp your hand over Jisung’s mouth, shutting him up before your parents come and kill you.

“Yeah, I got that, genius! I was just surprised!”

Both of you just stare at each other for a good minute, and then burst into loud laughter

Yeah, this ain’t friends to lovers. More like idiots to lovers.

And yes, your mom also comes in, fuming, and kicks Jisung out. You’re grounded.

But the next day, at school, you and Jisung make things official. You also take the chance to blackmail Jisung that if he ever refuses to buy you candy again whenever you ask, then it’s over.

Jisung laments that he made a mistake in asking you out, but one look from you and he shuts up.

Other than that, you guys become that disgustingly sweet and hilarious couple that’s always in sync.

You both have the dumbest inside jokes and cover each other’s eyes during horror movies

U_U

5. Felix

The boy next-door…

He moved in to the house next to yours a few years ago, with his whole family, and with your curiosity, you watched him and his sisters laugh together from behind your curtains

Later that night, Felix knocked on your door and offered you and your parents homemade brownies. Your mother immediately falls in love with the chocolate treats and invites this charming boy’s family over for dinner that night

You become best friends with Rachel and Olivia, Felix’s sisters, but you couldn’t help but have a crush on Felix

Some time later ,when you went over to hang out with the girls, they both had to leave in the middle for piano lessons, but before you could go home, Felix offered to teach you how to bake

That’s how you end up giggling in the kitchen together and teasing each other with flour fights

When Rachel and Olivia are busy, you play video games with Felix in his room— at least, he plays and tries to teach you, while you miserably fail each time

But it’s just so fun to see his eyes light up whenever he wins a match or something

Gamer bf vibes for real

In school, you notice him in the hallways and he always has a bunch of girls swooning over him, but he always smiles at you and gives you a sweet hug whenever he sees you

Summers are filled with trips to the pool with the Lee siblings and biking around town, getting ice cream and enjoying the air conditioning in the public library.

You and Felix literally grow up together :(

Your bedroom window is directly across from Felix’s, and sometimes, you both wave to each other through glimpses

Once, since your homes aren’t spaced that far apart, Felix threw a delicate paper plane through your window and into your room.

You were studying for your math test tomorrow, and so it has a cute note written inside wishing you good luck. Also there’s a candy taped to the paper because of his sweet tooth <33

The paper airplane notes become a tradition, and one night, Felix throws an airplane asking you to meet him at the little pond in your neighborhood

It’s literally almost midnight so you’re like ???

But you sneak out anyway, and meet him at the pond

It’s late autumn so you’re freezing in your pajamas, cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket. And the woods surrounding? Creepy as hell, especially in the dark

When you feel someone grab your arm, you scream but then they cover your mouth with their warm, tiny hand and you realize it’s Felix LMAO

He’s brought a container of warm brownies for you, hot cocoa, and a little blanket

You’re speechless. Because what is happening?!

He immediately notices you’re shivering and wraps you in his own jacket and the blanket, before sitting you down next to him, drawing you close in his arms

And snuggled together in front of the moonlit pond, he confesses that he’s liked you since the moment he set his eyes on you

Just kill me now.

Anyway, his sisters are a little mad that they have to share you with him when you guys reveal that you’re a couple, but for the most part, both of your families love you both together

And you guys even become that couple that’s always clinging to each other and being all lovey-dovey in the hallways

But PDA is never cringe with Felix :P

EVER.

6. Seungmin

He’s definitely the smartest kid in class, the one who everyone goes to get homework help from

You completely envy him, because before he started attending your school, you used to be first in everything

Now?

He’s always first, and you follow closely behind as second. Every. Single. Time.

It infuriates you to the core when your teacher hands back test papers, and before he even checks his score, which is obviously better than yours, he shoots you a little smirk

You dislike him so much that you even tell him that, and you both bicker back and forth. Every time, however, he ends up reminding you that you’re just jealous and need to work harder to catch up with him, which is very true and angers you even more

But when you complain about him to your friends, they tease you and say you like him

Which you absolutely do NOT

Even though you’ve always noticed how his eyes seem to shimmer when he reads a book, or how his smile is brighter than the sun

Ever since your friends have made it their mission to torment you about Seungmin, you can’t help but gaze at him a little longer

He’s always on his own, either studying diligently or finishing homework for another class during study hall, when everyone else just goofed off

At lunch, he sits under a tree and eats calmly while engrossed with a book in his hand, slowly sipping his juice occasionally

One day, you see a couple of the older kids picking on him outside, and you overhear that it’s because he scored better than them in advanced exams

When one of them grabs Seungmin’s shirt and tries to drag him, you instantly see red and charge for the idiot, punching him to the side and grasping Seungmin’s hand

You’re Seungmin’s knight in shining armor!!

But then the other older kids start to close in on you both

Uh-oh.

You and Seungmin make a run for it, escaping narrowly by catching a departing bus. You don’t even know where you both are going, but you breathlessly laugh together about the ordeal

Later, Seungmin’s mom finds you both and drives you home. While you and Seungmin sit quietly in the back, his mom cheerily thanks you for being his friend, since Seungmin doesn’t have any. Also, she notes that it’s wonderful to finally meet you, because Seungmin can’t stop talking about how smart and cool you are at home

Seungmin is mortified because his mom has exposed him and refuses to look at you, but for the first time, you feel like you don’t hate him

Not even close

When you reach home, Seungmin’s mom makes him get out of the car and walk you to your door. Before your anxiety gets the best of you, you lean forward and kiss him on the cheek, shyly running inside before he can say anything.

Little do you know that he can’t even think of words right now. He just stands there, frozen, not hearing his mom’s honking above the beat of his heart

Soon, when he musters up the courage to ask you out, you both become official

And you both become study buddies as well, so you finally end up beating Seungmin after learning his tips and tricks.

P.S. years later, Seungmin jokes that if he never dated you, he still would’ve been first in class. But who knows? Because you guys are made for each other.

7. Jeongin

This story is less about you and more about Jeongin. He’s the main character, not you.

Duh.

As one of the most popular people in school, Jeongin is used to getting everything he wants. Teachers and students alike adore him for his charisma, looks, and sweet personality

Even though he’s a junior, all the seniors know who he is and would die to hang out with him

One day, surrounded by his big group of friends, as usual, Jeongin is walking down the neighborhood streets to that diner he loves to eat at

And then he notices the most beautiful girl walking into the restaurant right next to his favorite diner, the very establishment that he swore to never eat at and betray his beloved diner

But he’s immediately awestruck and curious to know who you are, and so he walks in right after you, ignoring his friends confused questions as to why he’s literally going into to the rival restaurant of his usual place

As soon as he is inside, he looks for the table you’re sitting at,

He grabs the table right next to yours and rattles off his order to the waitress, still in a daze with his eyes fixated on you

He recognizes your two friends who you are sitting with. They’re both senior girls, which means you must be one too

Oh? ;)

The hot older student? Sign Jeongin up.

He boldly goes up to your booth and asks you out, straight-up, flashing you a cute smile and a daring wink

You and your friends just glance at each other, amused, before you politely let him down

Because you don’t even know him?? Tf??

But your rejection makes him even more infatuated with you, because although he’s an attention-whore, the one thing he loves more is a good challenge

He swaggers back to his table, but not before shooting you a grin that screams “this ain’t over”

And it isn’t over.

Because he spends time learning about what you like through the grapevine, and as one of the school’s most popular kids, he has good access to it.

You love pink carnations, banana ice cream, and surprises.

And through that wonderful grapevine, he also finds out about what kind of person you are. Funny, kind, and incredibly smart, as one of the toppers in your grade.

So cute.

At school some time later, after you have almost forgotten about him, he slides in next to you at your lunch table, opening his bag and eating as if everything is normal

You just watch him like??

But you go along with it because you don’t want to be rude. All of your friends love Jeongin (obviously) because he’s so funny and charming

But you just eat your food silently, wondering what this kid is up to

As soon as the school bell rings, you walk out of your classroom and towards your locker, but surprise, surprise, Jeongin is already waiting there. With a bigass bouquet of baby pink carnations.

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

Jeongin beams at you confidently, but you can see a hint of nervousness behind it.

And you find the whole cheesy getup very endearing. Still… he’s trouble.

You hide back your smile, shaking your head.

“I don’t date junior boys.” You walk off, leaving Jeongin hanging once again.

Damn. What a woman.

It’s time for Jeongin to pull out the big guns, because no one has ever made him work for it like you.

A few nights later, just as you’re about to sit down with your family for dinner, you hear a knock at the door. Your dad offers to get it, so you pay no mind.

But a minute later, your dad walks in with none other than Jeongin, a box of ice cream in his hands

“Your nice friend came over to drop off some dessert. So I invited him to stay for dinner.”

Stunned, you just watch Jeongin drag a chair next to your seat and dig into his food enthusiastically.

As the rest of the evening progresses, your family literally falls in love with Jeongin; he laughs at your father’s horrible dad jokes, listens to all of your mom’s embarrassing childhood stories about you, and engrosses himself in discussion about Fortnite with your little brother

After dessert, you announce that you’ll walk Jeongin out, grabbing him by his arm and pulling him outside onto your porch before he can protest

Once the front door is shut, you glare at Jeongin

“What are you doing here?”

“Dropping off dessert!”

“But why?”

“Because I like you, okay?!”

Jeongin squares his shoulders, looking you in the eye. “Go out with me. You won’t regret dating a junior, I promise.”

What a cliché.

You roll your eyes, because you’re tired and your feet are cold. Also, you’re not amazing at expressing your emotions. Your heart feels like a damn water slide and you really need a sec.

“Jeongin, go home.”

“You like me too, right? I know how you look at me.”

It’s pretty obvious, you know it too. Ever since his whole stunt with the flowers, you’ve been watching him from afar, your own crush growing on him. But you can’t be with a junior, can you?

“Doesn’t matter. I have homework to do, let’s talk tomorrow.”

“You also like surprises, yes?”

Jeongin steps closer to you, nearly cornering you against the porch pillar. You shove him away.

“Dude, are you trying to kiss me?!”

Jeongin stumbles back. “No!”

He whips out a small velvet box behind his back and opens it, revealing a gorgeous bracelet. “It’s not as pretty as you, but I thought it would look good on you.”

He gently takes your wrist and slips it on, earnestly gazing down at you. “But I would really like to kiss you, if you don’t have too much homework.”

“Screw chemistry.”

You loop your arms around Jeongin’s neck and pull him down, kissing him.

“Guess I’m the one who surprised you in the end.”

8. Bang Chan

He would 100% be one of those nice popular kids.

He’d have like a million friends and a bunch of wannabes would follow him around too, but he’s so sweet to everyone

Chan is a jock, because he’s athletic and the captain of the soccer team, but he’s also one of those really smart kids too. He gets amazing grades and even plays the guitar, because he’s a sensitive music guy omgggg

Anyway

You have to agree he’s cute, but you’ve always been a little wary of the popular kids. A lot of the people he’s friends with are rude af, but he chills with everyone because no one could ever say anything to him, that’s how well-liked he is.

You have history class together, and you get paired up together.

He’s super friendly, obviously, and asks if you can meet up with him at the library after school. What else can you say but yes?

So you get to the library, but Chan is nowhere to be seen.

Fifteen minutes late, he shows up, and you’re really annoyed at this point, but….

He brought you both boba!

Suspiciously, you accept it (it’s delicious) and you’re surprised to find out that Chan actually really knows his stuff

You both finish a good chunk of your work, and a lot of your progress is thanks to Chan’s immaculate planning and organization

You’ve never seen a guy have a binder with color-coded separators and aesthetic notes and stuff, but Chan keeps surprising you

You both meet up two more times to finish the project, and each time, Chan brings you a different flavor of boba.

And eventually, you warm up to him, and it’s hard not to fall for his endearing, caring personality. He even offered you his hoodie when you got cold because of the library air conditioning!

When you finish your project, you’re sad that it means that you have to stop hanging with Chan, but he actually keeps saying hi to you at school and striking up conversation, even though you get a little shy.

He moved seats to sit next to you in class too, and comes to the library more often to just sit at your table and do homework in silence with you

One day, you overhear a few of Chan’s friends complaining about him spending more time with some unpopular girl. They start picking on the girl, when you realize the girl they’re making fun is you.

Immediately, you run off to the bathroom to cry in the stalls’ privacy, because you should have known that being friends with someone like Chan was a bad idea

Although he might not have been a bad person, some of his friends certainly were. That made him a bad guy by association.

A few minutes later, as you’re wiping your tears and stepping out of the bathroom when you crash into Chan, who’s waiting right outside

You try to step around him and leave, but he just hugs you from the back and apologizes by whispering into your ear

His voice is so soothing :((

“I’ll make them apologize, and I’m not going to hang out with them anymore, and anyone else who says anything to you.”

And honestly, you’re kind of shocked that he is willing to give up his friends for you

But like he can read your mind, Chan answers for you:

“They don’t matter to me as much as you do.”

He indirectly confesses that he likes you, but you guys actually don’t go into a relationship right away.

You spend a lot more time getting to know each other, personally and on a deeper level.

You learn about his passion for music, and he learns about your own interests. You share your hopes and dreams and fears, until you finally realize how much you both truly mean to each other

After all, Chan is the type of person who would take his time before committing himself to someone

And although when you finally get together, it seems like Chan is always protecting you, it’s actually the other way around:

You teach Chan that it’s okay to be vulnerable, and that you’ll always love him no matter what.

More than anything, you’re proud of Chan and the person he is. Always.

TAGLIST @hamburgers101 @chansburgah @ajxreads @hash2013 @pixigreen @ana-marais98 @ohish @chizumiyoshi @lilydaisyyy @jetblackbelle @yeahhspider @army-stay-noel @143hyunes

Network: @kflixnet

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cherrycola27 · 2 years ago

Text

All Too Well

Series Warnings: Language, drinking, military inaccuracies. Allusions to smut, eventual smut. Unrequited love, enemies to lovers. Adult themes and situations. 18+ Minors DNI

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Chapter 1: I'm Not Fine At All

You weren't going to let Bradley ruin this redemption arc for you. So what if he didn't want to listen to you right now? Maybe you could make him see that you'd changed.

You took your drink and tucked yourself over at the opposite side of the bar. You weren't in the mood for any more words of wisdom from either of your parents. You happily sipped on your drink as you scrolled through your phone, and people watched.

"Evening, Ma'am" a voice drawled from beside you. You slipped your phone in your pocket and looked over to meet a set of emerald eyes and a thousand watt smile. Clad in his service khakis, you read his name tag, "Seresin," you remember your father talking about him.

"Hi there." You responded politely. "Why is a beautiful thing like you sitting all by yourself?" He asked you. "I don't think everyone here is thrilled by my presence." You tell him as you look over his shoulder and jut your chin toward Rooster.

"Bradshaw's been an ornery cock his whole life. Nothing new about that." He tells you. "Well, aside from Rooster tarnishing my reputation, not that I needed any help with that, most guys are too afraid to flirt with me because of who my parents are. It isn't worth them getting banned from their favorite bar or getting a shit duty station for breaking my heart." You tell him as you finish your drink.

"Penny m'dear, another round for her and put it on my tab." Jake says without breaking eye contact with you. Your mom sets down your drink and another beer for him. "Who said I was going to break your heart, darlin?"" He asks as he cocks his head to the side.

"Who said I wouldn't break yours first?" You counter. He chuckles before taking a swig of beer. "You're feisty. I like it." He says. "How about a game of pool?" He asks you.

Now you laugh. "You do know what my callsign is? Don't you Hang—man?" You ask as you draw out the syllables of his. "I sure do—Hustler. Which is exactly why I want you to be my partner. Doubles. Us versus Phoenix and Rooster." Jake states.

"You really think that's a good idea?" You ask him. "Just because we're friends doesn't mean I don't enjoy ruffling Rooster's feathers. You in?" Jake asks you.

"The only way I'm going to play is if I get a little more liquid courage in me." You state. Jake quickly orders two whiskey shots. Your mother rolls her as she sets them down. You toast with Jake and down the amber liquid. It warms you from within. "Alight, let's play." You cheer.

Jake offers you his hand as you hop down from your bar stool and grab your drink. He grabs his beer before placing his free hand on the small of your back and guiding you to the poor table.

"Evening, Pops," Jake says as he tosses Maverick a wink when the two of you walk by.

"Pete Mitchell, so help me if your daughter causes a fight in my bar. You're dealing with it." Penny says as she smacks Maverick with a bar towel.

"Hey! She's not just my daughter." Maverick defends himself. "She is when she starts acting just like you." Penny says as she prepares to watch the enviable chaos unfold.

"Rooster, Phoenix, I found a partner for pool, rack 'em and let's play a round." Hangman says at the two of you walk up the to pool table. You can already see the anger on Rooster's face.

"Y'all this here is Hustler." Jake announces the the group. "Hustler, this is Coyote, Bob, Payback, and Fanboy." Jake says as he introduces you to the men sitting. He pivots and is about to say something but Phoenix cuts him off.

"Hey, Hustler." She says with a small wave. "Hey, Nix." You wave back. "Roo." You nod you head a Rooster.

"Well, now that everyone is acquainted, let's play!" Jake claps his hands together before grabbing a pool cue and handing one to you.

You and Jake win the first round of pool, and Phoenix asks for a rematch. She and Rooster win the second game. You decided to play one last game for the best two out of three. The two tequila-sodas and the whiskey shot are buzzing in your system, making you feel giggly and flirty. You've switched to gingerale so you can ride your bike home later. During this last game of pool, you've been very touchy-feely with Hangman, and Bradley can't stand it. He has a death grip on his pool cue as he watches Jake shamelessly hit on you.

It's the final shot of the game. You call the pocket and line the eight ball up and sink it perfectly. You jump up and down excitedly, and Jake picks you up and spins you around and cheers with you. You give him a victory kiss on the cheek before excusing yourself to the bathroom.

When you come back, you noticed that the bar is a little bit busier than it was when you first got here, and the juke box is playing one of your favorite songs.

You run up to Jake and grab his hand. "Come dance with me." You demand as you drag him to the dance floor.

Jake tosses his beer bottle and follows you without hesitation. He twirls you around the dance floor through a country song and some pop jam, but then someone cues up a hip-hop track and your face lights up as you turn around and press your body to his.

His hands slide to your hips and grip them tightly as you rock against him to the beat. Some song he doesn't recognize comes on after that, but you don't make an effort to change your position. You continue to sway your hips to the music, grinding your ass over his crotch.

Rooster is sitting over in the corner watching the two of you. The jealous anger builds the more he stays nestled on his perch. He feels like he's going to be sick. He keeps hoping Maverick or Penny will do something, but they are still at the bar watching this trainwreck play out.

You slide your arm behind you and curl it around Jake's neck. You slide your fingers in his hair, and he lowers his head just enough to place a few lingering kisses on the side of your neck. He trails them up your skin. He locks eyes with Rooster as he nips your ear before whispering, "Want to get out of here?" You shake your head before replying, "Take me home, Cowboy." Rooster almost snaps the pool cue in half when he sees you lean up on your tip toes and kiss Jake. You stand there and make out with him for half a minute. You pull apart for air. You bit your lip as you savor the taste of him on your lips. He tastes like hops and cinnamon gum, and it's forigen to you.

Jake goes to settle your tabs. You tell him you're going to lock up your bike in your mom's storage shed, and you'll meet him out front.

You went around the back to grab your jacket and helmet to put inside the bar for the night and to secure your bike. You'd have Jake or an Uber bring you back here tomorrow. You were just about to round the corner when you felt a hand encircle your wrist and pull you back before pushing you against the outside wall of the building.

"Bradley!" You gasped when you saw that it was him. His body towered over you, one hand still on your wrist, the other planted beside your head as he kept you in place. "Bradley, what are you doing?" You asked him.

"There's no way in hell you're going home with Bagman." He gritted out. "And why not? I'm an adult Bradley, I can fuck who I want." You sassed him.

You cocked your head to the side and waited for his response. You could see the anger on his face. His jaw was clenched, and a delicious vein was straining in his neck, but he remained silent.

"Bradley, if you can't give me one good reason why I shouldn't let Jake rearrange my organs, then I'm going to need you to move." You told him as you tried to push him out of the way.

Bradley didn't speak. Instead, he pushed you back against the wall and crashed his lip to yours. One of his hands tangled in your hair while the other gripped your waist and pulled you to him.

You moaned, giving him the chance to slot his tongue in your mouth. You tugged on his curls as his mouth worked against yours.

He tasted like beer and wintergreen tobacco, a habit he had picked up in flight school that he just couldn't seem to kick.

His kiss was hot, heavy, and dizzying. It was something you knew all too well.

He pulled back and admired his handy work. You were breathless with flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

"I thought you said we weren't going to start this again." You goaded him. "You and I both know that it was going to end this way. It always does. I never can tell you no, can I?" He says before kissing you again.

"Get on your bike, and I'll follow you back to your place." He tells you. "Why my place? You ask him.

"You can't leave in the middle of the night if you're already home." He says matter of factly.

You smirk at him. "What about Hangman?" You ask. "I'll handle it." Bradley says.

You climb on your bike and meet Bradley in front of the Hard Deck, with Jake no where in sight.

He climbs into his Bronco and follows you to your little beach house.

The second the two of you make it through the door, you're caught up in each other. You manage to lead him to your bedroom as the two of you strip the others clothes off.

The sex between the two of you is mind-blowing. You've done it enough to know how to make each other feel good, even if your feelings had been dead and gone and buried for some time.

After losing count of the number of orgasms you've had, you collapse against the sheets and curl up against Bradley's chest for a good night's sleep.

The next morning, you wake up to a cold bed. You reach out for Bradley only to find that his side of the bed is empty. You get up and see his clothes are gone from your floor. You slip on your robe and check the bathroom. Still no sign of him.

You walk downstairs hoping that he's in your kitchen, but it is empty as well. You look out of your curtains to see that his Bronco is gone from your driveway.

So this is what it feels like to wake up alone. You sigh before taking a seat at your kitchen island. It's then that you notice the note scrawled on a piece of paper.

You open it and immediately recognize the four words written in Bradley's hand writing:

"How does it feel?"

Chapter 1 is here! Hope you guys enjoy it. Also, please don't slash my tires over toxic Bradley.

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