#Ad Click Fraud
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mfilterit · 2 months ago
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Click Fraud: How to Protect Your Digital Ad Budget
This impacts all advertisers spending on clicks across platforms as click fraud is a multifaced threat that can take many forms, from sophisticated bots and malicious software to organized human operations like click farms. For advertisers, understanding these tactics is crucial to protect their investments and ensuring that their marketing efforts reach genuine and interested audiences. 
How Does Click Fraud Work? 
Click fraud happens when publishers artificially increase the number of clicks a PPC or CPC advertisement receives with bots. Invalid clicks do not bring about any desirable visit or event, such as generating leads or sales. Instead, they serve only to enrich fraudsters and drain the budgets of legitimate businesses. Malicious intent is at the heart of clicks fraud. Scammers use fraudulent clicks to show improved interaction on the ad and inflate their revenue from ads.   
Click fraud in UAE and Indonesia.
Click here to read more about click fraud.
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enetsafe · 4 months ago
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Top Tips for Effective Theft Monitoring in the Digital Age
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In today's rapidly evolving digital landscape, staying secure online is more important than ever. Businesses and individuals must secure their data and digital activities from rising cyber threats. This article will delve into four critical aspects of digital security: Email Whitelisting, the emerging threat of the Tesla Botnet, the importance of Theft Monitoring, and the growing concerns around Ad Fraud & Click Fraud. Understanding these concepts and using effective tactics helps protect your online presence and prevent costly security breaches.
The Importance of Email Allowlisting
A simple but effective email list ensures that critical emails enter your inbox without being sent to spam. In a world where phishing attempts and unsolicited emails are commonplace, it's easy for legitimate messages to get lost in the clutter.
How Email Whitelisting  Works
Email Allowlisting involves adding specific email addresses or domains to a "safe list." When an email from an allowed sender arrives, it bypasses the spam filter and lands directly in your inbox. This would benefit businesses that need fast, secure communication with clients, partners, and assistance providers.
Benefits of Email Whitelisting 
By using Email Whitelisting, you ensure that crucial communications are not missed. This can be vital for businesses that need to respond promptly to client inquiries or receive essential updates from service providers. Whitelisting also reduces phishing assaults by allowing only trusted emails into your inbox. It also improves the efficiency of your email management by filtering out irrelevant messages.
Understanding the Tesla Botnet
As cyber threats evolve, the Tesla Botnet has become a significant concern. Cybercriminals remotely control a botnet of infected machines without the owners' knowledge. The Tesla Botnet is one such network, and it has gained notoriety for its ability to carry out a range of malicious activities.
What is the Tesla Botnet?
Infected machines in the Tesla Botnet are used for DDoS assaults, data breaches, and Bitcoin mining. The botnet primarily targets IoT (Internet of Things) devices, exploiting vulnerabilities in these systems to gain control and carry out its operations.
How to Protect Against the Tesla Botnet
Multifaceted protection against the Tesla Botnet is needed. Ensure all devices, especially IoT ones, have the latest security patches and firmware. Use strong, unique passwords for each device and two-factor authentication whenever possible. Additionally, monitor your network for any unusual activity that could indicate a botnet infection, and consider using security software that can detect and neutralise such threats.
The Role of Theft Monitoring in Digital Security
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As more personal and financial information is stored online, Theft Monitoring has become a critical component of digital security. Theft Monitoring involves actively tracking your data to detect unauthorised use, which can help prevent identity theft and financial fraud.
How Theft Monitoring Works
Theft monitoring services investigate the dark web for unlawful use of your Social Security number, bank account, or credit card information. If suspicious activity is detected, the service alerts you immediately, allowing you to take swift action to protect your identity and finances.
Why You Need Theft Monitoring
Theft Monitoring provides peace of mind by offering a proactive approach to identity protection. With the increasing number of data breaches and cyberattacks, having a system to monitor and protect your information is more critical than ever. Early identification via Theft Monitoring can avert financial loss and a lengthy identity restoration process.
Combating Ad Fraud & Click Fraud
In the digital marketing world, Ad Fraud and click Fraud pose serious challenges to businesses that rely on online advertising. Ad Fraud refers to the generation of fake impressions, clicks, or conversions, which leads to wasted ad spend and skewed performance metrics. Click fraud, which uses fake clicks to drain advertising budgets or mislead competition, also includes ad fraud.
The Impact of Ad Fraud & Click Fraud on Businesses
Ad Fraud & Click Fraud can have devastating effects on businesses. When companies pay for fraudulent clicks or impressions, they waste valuable resources that could have been used for genuine customer engagement. This not only distorts the effectiveness of ad campaigns but also inflates advertising costs. Moreover, the data from fraudulent activities can mislead marketing strategies, leading to poor business decisions.
Strategies to Prevent Ad Fraud & Click Fraud
To protect your business from Ad Fraud and click Fraud, it's essential to implement robust detection and prevention strategies. Utilise advanced analytics tools to identify abnormal patterns in ad interactions, such as sudden spikes in click rates or traffic from suspicious IP addresses. Partner with reputable ad networks with strict fraud detection protocols. Regularly audit your ad campaigns to ensure that the clicks and impressions you pay for are genuine. You may avoid these frauds by being cautious and using the correct tools.
Conclusion
In conclusion, the digital landscape presents numerous challenges, from managing email security through Email Whitelisting to protecting against sophisticated threats like the Tesla Botnet. Theft Monitoring plays a crucial role in safeguarding personal information, while businesses must remain vigilant against Ad Fraud and click Fraud to protect their advertising investments. Understanding these dangers and executing effective measures can improve your digital security and keep your online presence safe. 
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hndsolutions · 8 months ago
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Don't let sneaky clicks drain your Google Ads budget. Learn how to identify, prevention strategies & how to request refunds for invalid clicks to maximize your campaign performance
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clicksbuster · 1 year ago
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The Ultimate Guide to Choosing the Best Click Fraud Protection: 
With so many options available, selecting the best click fraud protection for your business can be overwhelming. Our comprehensive guide breaks down the key features to look for, including real-time monitoring, customizable settings, and robust reporting. Make an informed decision and protect your business from click fraud.
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cubera · 2 years ago
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joinstratosphere · 2 years ago
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PPC ad campaigns play a crucial role in bringing clients to your insurance company, so it’s crucial to prevent click frauds on your PPC campaign. Here are crucial points to know to avoid becoming a victim of click fraud while running a successful ad campaign. Learn more: https://www.joinstratosphere.com/blog/how-insurance-agencies-can-prevent-click-fraud-on-ppc-ads
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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years ago
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Gig apps trap reverse centaurs in Skinner boxes
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Enshittification is the process by which digital platforms devour themselves: first they dangle goodies in front of end users. Once users are locked in, the goodies are taken away and dangled before business customers who supply goods to the users. Once those business customers are stuck on the platform, the goodies are clawed away and showered on the platform’s shareholders:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys
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/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men
Enshittification isn’t just another way of saying “fraud” or “price gouging” or “wage theft.” Enshittification is intrinsically digital, because moving all those goodies around requires the flexibility that only comes with a digital businesses. Jeff Bezos, grocer, can’t rapidly change the price of eggs at Whole Foods without an army of kids with pricing guns on roller-skates. Jeff Bezos, grocer, can change the price of eggs on Amazon Fresh just by twiddling a knob on the service’s back-end.
Twiddling is the key to enshittification: rapidly adjusting prices, conditions and offers. As with any shell game, the quickness of the hand deceives the eye. Tech monopolists aren’t smarter than the Gilded Age sociopaths who monopolized rail or coal — they use the same tricks as those monsters of history, but they do them faster and with computers:
https://doctorow.medium.com/twiddler-1b5c9690cce6
If Rockefeller wanted to crush a freight company, he couldn’t just click a mouse and lay down a pipeline that ran on the same route, and then click another mouse to make it go away when he was done. When Bezos wants to bankrupt Diapers.com — a company that refused to sell itself to Amazon — he just moved a slider so that diapers on Amazon were being sold below cost. Amazon lost $100m over three months, diapers.com went bankrupt, and every investor learned that competing with Amazon was a losing bet:
https://slate.com/technology/2013/10/amazon-book-how-jeff-bezos-went-thermonuclear-on-diapers-com.html
That’s the power of twiddling — but twiddling cuts both ways. The same flexibility that digital businesses enjoy is hypothetically available to workers and users. The airlines pioneered twiddling ticket prices, and that naturally gave rise to countertwiddling, in the form of comparison shopping sites that scraped the airlines’ sites to predict when tickets would be cheapest:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/27/knob-jockeys/#bros-be-twiddlin
The airlines — like all abusive businesses — refused to tolerate this. They were allowed to touch their knobs as much as they wanted — indeed, they couldn’t stop touching those knobs — but when we tried to twiddle back, that was “felony contempt of business model,” and the airlines sued:
https://www.cnbc.com/2014/12/30/airline-sues-man-for-founding-a-cheap-flights-website.html
And sued:
https://www.nytimes.com/2018/01/06/business/southwest-airlines-lawsuit-prices.html
Platforms don’t just hate it when end-users twiddle back — if anything they are even more aggressive when their business-users dare to twiddle. Take Para, an app that Doordash drivers used to get a peek at the wages offered for jobs before they accepted them — something that Doordash hid from its workers. Doordash ruthlessly attacked Para, saying that by letting drivers know how much they’d earn before they did the work, Para was violating the law:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/tech-rights-are-workers-rights-doordash-edition
Which law? Well, take your pick. The modern meaning of “IP” is “any law that lets me use the law to control my competitors, competition or customers.” Platforms use a mix of anticircumvention law, patent, copyright, contract, cybersecurity and other legal systems to weave together a thicket of rules that allow them to shut down rivals for their Felony Contempt of Business Model:
https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/
Enshittification relies on unlimited twiddling (by platforms), and a general prohibition on countertwiddling (by platform users). Enshittification is a form of fishing, in which bait is dangled before different groups of users and then nimbly withdrawn when they lunge for it. Twiddling puts the suppleness into the enshittifier’s fishing-rod, and a ban on countertwiddling weighs down platform users so they’re always a bit too slow to catch the bait.
Nowhere do we see twiddling’s impact more than in the “gig economy,” where workers are misclassified as independent contractors and put to work for an app that scripts their every move to the finest degree. When an app is your boss, you work for an employer who docks your pay for violating rules that you aren’t allowed to know — and where your attempts to learn those rules are constantly frustrated by the endless back-end twiddling that changes the rules faster than you can learn them.
As with every question of technology, the issue isn’t twiddling per se — it’s who does the twiddling and who gets twiddled. A worker armed with digital tools can play gig work employers off each other and force them to bid up the price of their labor; they can form co-ops with other workers that auto-refuse jobs that don’t pay enough, and use digital tools to organize to shift power from bosses to workers:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/02/not-what-it-does/#who-it-does-it-to
Take “reverse centaurs.” In AI research, a “centaur” is a human assisted by a machine that does more than either could do on their own. For example, a chess master and a chess program can play a better game together than either could play separately. A reverse centaur is a machine assisted by a human, where the machine is in charge and the human is a meat-puppet.
Think of Amazon warehouse workers wearing haptic location-aware wristbands that buzz at them continuously dictating where their hands must be; or Amazon drivers whose eye-movements are continuously tracked in order to penalize drivers who look in the “wrong” direction:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/17/reverse-centaur/#reverse-centaur
The difference between a centaur and a reverse centaur is the difference between a machine that makes your life better and a machine that makes your life worse so that your boss gets richer. Reverse centaurism is the 21st Century’s answer to Taylorism, the pseudoscience that saw white-coated “experts” subject workers to humiliating choreography down to the smallest movement of your fingertip:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust
While reverse centaurism was born in warehouses and other company-owned facilities, gig work let it make the leap into workers’ homes and cars. The 21st century has seen a return to the cottage industry — a form of production that once saw workers labor far from their bosses and thus beyond their control — but shriven of the autonomy and dignity that working from home once afforded:
https://doctorow.medium.com/gig-work-is-the-opposite-of-steampunk-463e2730ef0d
The rise and rise of bossware — which allows for remote surveillance of workers in their homes and cars — has turned “work from home” into “live at work.” Reverse centaurs can now be chickenized — a term from labor economics that describes how poultry farmers, who sell their birds to one of three vast poultry processors who have divided up the country like the Pope dividing up the “New World,” are uniquely exploited:
https://onezero.medium.com/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs-b2e8d5cda826
A chickenized reverse centaur has it rough: they must pay for the machines they use to make money for their bosses, they must obey the orders of the app that controls their work, and they are denied any of the protections that a traditional worker might enjoy, even as they are prohibited from deploying digital self-help measures that let them twiddle back to bargain for a better wage.
All of this sets the stage for a phenomenon called algorithmic wage discrimination, in which two workers doing the same job under the same conditions will see radically different payouts for that work. These payouts are continuously tweaked in the background by an algorithm that tries to predict the minimum sum a worker will accept to remain available without payment, to ensure sufficient workers to pick up jobs as they arise.
This phenomenon — and proposed policy and labor solutions to it — is expertly analyzed in “On Algorithmic Wage Discrimination,” a superb paper by UC Law San Franciscos Veena Dubal:
https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4331080
Dubal uses empirical data and enthnographic accounts from Uber drivers and other gig workers to explain how endless, self-directed twiddling allows gig companies pay workers less and pay themselves more. As @[email protected] explains in his LA Times article on Dubal’s research, the goal of the payment algorithm is to guess how often a given driver needs to receive fair compensation in order to keep them driving when the payments are unfair:
https://www.latimes.com/business/technology/story/2023-04-11/algorithmic-wage-discrimination
The algorithm combines nonconsensual dossiers compiled on individual drivers with population-scale data to seek an equilibrium between keeping drivers waiting, unpaid, for a job; and how much a driver needs to be paid for an individual job, in order to keep that driver from clocking out and doing something else. @ Here’s how that works. Sergio Avedian, a writer for The Rideshare Guy, ran an experiment with two brothers who both drove for Uber; one drove a Tesla and drove intermittently, the other brother rented a hybrid sedan and drove frequently. Sitting side-by-side with the brothers, Avedian showed how the brother with the Tesla was offered more for every trip:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UADTiL3S67I
Uber wants to lure intermittent drivers into becoming frequent drivers. Uber doesn’t pay for an oversupply of drivers, because it only pays drivers when they have a passenger in the car. Having drivers on call — but idle — is a way for Uber to shift the cost of maintaining a capacity cushion to its workers.
What’s more, what Uber charges customers is not based on how much it pays its workers. As Uber’s head of product explained: Uber uses “machine-learning techniques to estimate how much groups of customers are willing to shell out for a ride. Uber calculates riders’ propensity for paying a higher price for a particular route at a certain time of day. For instance, someone traveling from a wealthy neighborhood to another tony spot might be asked to pay more than another person heading to a poorer part of town, even if demand, traffic and distance are the same.”
https://qz.com/990131/uber-is-practicing-price-discrimination-economists-say-that-might-not-be-a-bad-thing/
Uber has historically described its business a pure supply-and-demand matching system, where a rush of demand for rides triggers surge pricing, which lures out drivers, which takes care of the demand. That’s not how it works today, and it’s unclear if it ever worked that way. Today, a driver who consults the rider version of the Uber app before accepting a job — to compare how much the rider is paying to how much they stand to earn — is booted off the app and denied further journeys.
Surging, instead, has become just another way to twiddle drivers. One of Dubal’s subjects, Derrick, describes how Uber uses fake surges to lure drivers to airports: “You go to the airport, once the lot get kind of full, then the surge go away.” Other drivers describe how they use groupchats to call out fake surges: “I’m in the Marina. It’s dead. Fake surge.”
That’s pure twiddling. Twiddling turns gamification into gamblification, where your labor buys you a spin on a roulette wheel in a rigged casino. As a driver called Melissa, who had doubled down on her availability to earn a $100 bonus awarded for clocking a certain number of rides, told Dubal, “When you get close to the bonus, the rides start trickling in more slowly…. And it makes sense. It’s really the type of shit that they can do when it’s okay to have a surplus labor force that is just sitting there that they don’t have to pay for.”
Wherever you find reverse-centaurs, you get this kind of gamblification, where the rules are twiddled continuously to make sure that the house always wins. As a contract driver Amazon reverse centaur told Lauren Gurley for Motherboard, “Amazon uses these cameras allegedly to make sure they have a safer driving workforce, but they’re actually using them not to pay delivery companies”:
https://www.vice.com/en/article/88npjv/amazons-ai-cameras-are-punishing-drivers-for-mistakes-they-didnt-make
Algorithmic wage discrimination is the robot overlord of our nightmares: its job is to relentlessly quest for vulnerabilities and exploit them. Drivers divide themselves into “ants” (drivers who take every job) and “pickers” (drivers who cherry-pick high-paying jobs). The algorithm’s job is ensuring that pickers get the plum assignments, not the ants, in the hopes of converting those pickers to app-dependent ants.
In my work on enshittification, I call this the “giant teddy bear” gambit. At every county fair, you’ll always spot some poor jerk carrying around a giant teddy-bear they “won” on the midway. But they didn’t win it — not by getting three balls in the peach-basket. Rather, the carny running the rigged game either chose not to operate the “scissor” that kicks balls out of the basket. Or, if the game is “honest” (that is, merely impossible to win, rather than gimmicked), the operator will make a too-good-to-refuse offer: “Get one ball in and I’ll give you this keychain. Win two keychains and I’ll let you trade them for this giant teddy bear.”
Carnies aren’t in the business of giving away giant teddy bears — rather, the gambit is an investment. Giving a mark a giant teddy bear to carry around the midway all day acts as a convincer, luring other marks to try to land three balls in the basket and win their own teddy bear.
In the same way, platforms like Uber distribute giant teddy bears to pickers, as a way of keeping the ants scurrying from job to job, and as a way of convincing the pickers to give up whatever work allows them to discriminate among Uber’s offers and hold out for the plum deals, whereupon then can be transmogrified into ants themselves.
Dubal describes the experience of Adil, a Syrian refugee who drives for Uber in the Bay Area. His colleagues are pickers, and showed him screenshots of how much they earned. Determined to get a share of that money, Adil became a model ant, driving two hours to San Francisco, driving three days straight, napping in his car, spending only one day per week with his family. The algorithm noticed that Adil needed the work, so it paid him less.
Adil responded the way the system predicted he would, by driving even more: “My friends they make it, so I keep going, maybe I can figure it out. It’s unsecure, and I don’t know how people they do it. I don’t know how I am doing it, but I have to. I mean, I don’t find another option. In a minute, if I find something else, oh man, I will be out immediately. I am a very patient person, that’s why I can continue.”
Another driver, Diego, told Dubal about how the winners of the giant teddy bears fell into the trap of thinking that they were “good at the app”: “Any time there’s some big shot getting high pay outs, they always shame everyone else and say you don’t know how to use the app. I think there’s secret PR campaigns going on that gives targeted payouts to select workers, and they just think it’s all them.”
That’s the power of twiddling: by hoarding all the flexibility offered by digital tools, the management at platforms can become centaurs, able to string along thousands of workers, while the workers are reverse-centaurs, puppeteered by the apps.
As the example of Adil shows, the algorithm doesn’t need to be very sophisticated in order to figure out which workers it can underpay. The system automates the kind of racial and gender discrimination that is formally illegal, but which is masked by the smokescreen of digitization. An employer who systematically paid women less than men, or Black people less than white people, would be liable to criminal and civil sanctions. But if an algorithm simply notices that people who have fewer job prospects drive more and will thus accept lower wages, that’s just “optimization,” not racism or sexism.
This is the key to understanding the AI hype bubble: when ghouls from multinational banks predict 13 trillion dollar markets for “AI,” what they mean is that digital tools will speed up the twiddling and other wage-suppression techniques to transfer $13T in value from workers and consumers to shareholders.
The American business lobby is relentlessly focused on the goal of reducing wages. That’s the force behind “free trade,” “right to work,” and other codewords for “paying workers less,” including “gig work.” Tech workers long saw themselves as above this fray, immune to labor exploitation because they worked for a noble profession that took care of its own.
But the epidemic of mass tech-worker layoffs, following on the heels of massive stock buybacks, has demonstrated that tech bosses are just like any other boss: willing to pay as little as they can get away with, and no more. Tech bosses are so comfortable with their market dominance and the lock-in of their customers that they are happy to turn out hundreds of thousands of skilled workers, convinced that the twiddling systems they’ve built are the kinds of self-licking ice-cream cones that are so simple even a manager can use them — no morlocks required.
The tech worker layoffs are best understood as an all-out war on tech worker morale, because that morale is the source of tech workers’ confidence and thus their demands for a larger share of the value generated by their labor. The current tech layoff template is very different from previous tech layoffs: today’s layoffs are taking place over a period of months, long after they are announced, and laid off tech worker is likely to be offered a months of paid post-layoff work, rather than severance. This means that tech workplaces are now haunted by the walking dead, workers who have been laid off but need to come into the office for months, even as the threat of layoffs looms over the heads of the workers who remain. As an old friend, recently laid off from Microsoft after decades of service, wrote to me, this is “a new arrow in the quiver of bringing tech workers to heel and ensuring that we’re properly thankful for the jobs we have (had?).”
Dubal is interested in more than analysis, she’s interested in action. She looks at the tactics already deployed by gig workers, who have not taken all this abuse lying down. Workers in the UK and EU organized through Worker Info Exchange and the App Drivers and Couriers Union have used the GDPR (the EU’s privacy law) to demand “algorithmic transparency,” as well as access to their data. In California, drivers hope to use similar provisions in the CCPA (a state privacy law) to do the same.
These efforts have borne fruit. When Cornell economists, led by Louis Hyman, published research (paid for by Uber) claiming that Uber drivers earned an average of $23/hour, it was data from these efforts that revealed the true average Uber driver’s wage was $9.74. Subsequent research in California found that Uber drivers’ wage fell to $6.22/hour after the passage of Prop 22, a worker misclassification law that gig companies spent $225m to pass, only to have the law struck down because of a careless drafting error:
https://www.latimes.com/california/newsletter/2021-08-23/proposition-22-lyft-uber-decision-essential-california
But Dubal is skeptical that data-coops and transparency will achieve transformative change and build real worker power. Knowing how the algorithm works is useful, but it doesn’t mean you can do anything about it, not least because the platform owners can keep touching their knobs, twiddling the payout schedule on their rigged slot-machines.
Data co-ops start from the proposition that “data extraction is an inevitable form of labor for which workers should be remunerated.” It makes on-the-job surveillance acceptable, provided that workers are compensated for the spying. But co-ops aren’t unions, and they don’t have the power to bargain for a fair price for that data, and coops themselves lack the vast resources — “to store, clean, and understand” — data.
Co-ops are also badly situated to understand the true value of the data that is extracted from their members: “Workers cannot know whether the data collected will, at the population level, violate the civil rights of others or amplifies their own social oppression.”
Instead, Dubal wants an outright, nonwaivable prohibition on algorithmic wage discrimination. Just make it illegal. If firms cannot use gambling mechanisms to control worker behavior through variable pay systems, they will have to find ways to maintain flexible workforces while paying their workforce predictable wages under an employment model. If a firm cannot manage wages through digitally-determined variable pay systems, then the firm is less likely to employ algorithmic management.”
In other words, rather than using market mechanisms too constrain platform twiddling, Dubal just wants to make certain kinds of twiddling illegal. This is a growing trend in legal scholarship. For example, the economist Ramsi Woodcock has proposed a ban on surge pricing as a per se violation of Section 1 of the Sherman Act:
https://ilr.law.uiowa.edu/print/volume-105-issue-4/the-efficient-queue-and-the-case-against-dynamic-pricing
Similarly, Dubal proposes that algorithmic wage discrimination violates another antitrust law: the Robinson-Patman Act, which “bans sellers from charging competing buyers different prices for the same commodity. Robinson-Patman enforcement was effectively halted under Reagan, kicking off a host of pathologies, like the rise of Walmart:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/27/walmarts-jackals/#cheater-sizes
I really liked Dubal’s legal reasoning and argument, and to it I would add a call to reinvigorate countertwiddling: reforming laws that get in the way of workers who want to reverse-engineer, spoof, and control the apps that currently control them. Adversarial interoperability (AKA competitive compatibility or comcom) is key tool for building worker power in an era of digital Taylorism:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability
To see how that works, look to other jursidictions where workers have leapfrogged their European and American cousins, such as Indonesia, where gig workers and toolsmiths collaborate to make a whole suite of “tuyul apps,” which let them override the apps that gig companies expect them to use.
https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#gojek
For example, ride-hailing companies won’t assign a train-station pickup to a driver unless they’re circling the station — which is incredibly dangerous during the congested moments after a train arrives. A tuyul app lets a driver park nearby and then spoof their phone’s GPS fix to the ridehailing company so that they appear to be right out front of the station.
In an ideal world, those workers would have a union, and be able to dictate the app’s functionality to their bosses. But workers shouldn’t have to wait for an ideal world: they don’t just need jam tomorrow — they need jam today. Tuyul apps, and apps like Para, which allow workers to extract more money under better working conditions, are a prelude to unionization and employer regulation, not a substitute for it.
Employers will not give workers one iota more power than they have to. Just look at the asymmetry between the regulation of union employees versus union busters. Under US law, employees of a union need to account for every single hour they work, every mile they drive, every location they visit, in public filings. Meanwhile, the union-busting industry — far larger and richer than unions — operate under a cloak of total secrecy, Workers aren’t even told which union busters their employers have hired — let alone get an accounting of how those union busters spend money, or how many of them are working undercover, pretending to be workers in order to sabotage the union.
Twiddling will only get an employer so far. Twiddling — like all “AI” — is based on analyzing the past to predict the future. The heuristics an algorithm creates to lure workers into their cars can’t account for rapid changes in the wider world, which is why companies who relied on “AI” scheduling apps (for example, to prevent their employees from logging enough hours to be entitled to benefits) were caught flatfooted by the Great Resignation.
Workers suddenly found themselves with bargaining power thanks to the departure of millions of workers — a mix of early retirees and workers who were killed or permanently disabled by covid — and they used that shortage to demand a larger share of the fruits of their labor. The outraged howls of the capital class at this development were telling: these companies are operated by the kinds of “capitalists” that MLK once identified, who want “socialism for the rich and rugged individualism for the poor.”
https://twitter.com/KaseyKlimes/status/821836823022354432/
There's only 5 days left in the Kickstarter campaign for the audiobook of my next novel, a post-cyberpunk anti-finance finance thriller about Silicon Valley scams called Red Team Blues. Amazon's Audible refuses to carry my audiobooks because they're DRM free, but crowdfunding makes them possible.
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[Image ID: A complex mandala of knobs from a modular synth. In the foreground, limned in a blue electric halo, is a man in a hi-viz vest with the head of a horse. The horse's eyes have been replaced with the sinister red eyes of HAL9000 from Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey.'"]
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beesmygod · 1 year ago
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in an astounding twist of fate, im looking into what is actually going on with google adsense. they're in hot fucking water right now actually.
this summer, an enormous and scathing review by adalytics (an independent media research website) came out criticizing google for a myriad of things which could be politely summed up as "fraud". we're talking like. theye were taking money to serve ads on pages that got 0 views regularly. thats not what people pay for lol.
as a result google mysteriously issued some refunds (""credits"", because "refunds" sounds bad) but insists it was all normal. adexchanger has a summary of an adage.com article
Google vehemently denies the report’s findings and that the credits are in any way related. “Issuing credits to advertisers is not uncommon,” a Google spokesperson says, adding that “Adalytics used a flawed methodology to make wildly inaccurate claims about GVP.”
so over the last four or so months, google has been making core updates to its adsense network with, apparently, very little warning to the people using it. and everyone's numbers tanked. hard. oct 2023 appears to have been esp brutal. both the search engine journal and lily ray from amsive, apparently a huge name in marketing, released reports that are completely nuts. the lily ray one is esp detailed and has a timeline of updates
73% of overall respondents indicated that they have seen their Google Discover traffic drop to 0 during the past 3 months. Among websites that lost Discover traffic, the most common complaints were dramatic traffic declines; dropping to 0 impressions and clicks; extreme percentage decreases in clicks ranging from 50-99%, and massive losses in revenue from AdSense and other ad networks.
50 to 99%?! yeah that's a small sample size but that's a fucking hell of a swing and a trend.
according to the search engine journal google appears to be saying "well, we''ll see what we can do" the same way that you would say "let me look in the back" when you know full and well its not in the back. like this reads to me as "them's the breaks". which is uhh. i think a really big problem.
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mfilterit · 2 months ago
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Click Fraud Menace Damaging Ad Efficiencies in Southeast Asia
Southeast Asia is a rapidly expanding market that is expected to generate a revenue of $38 billion by 2025 from its digital services. With the numbers involved, this growth will present lucrative opportunities for businesses to reach a vast audience through digital advertising channels.   
However, it also draws perpetrators’ attention seeking to use vulnerabilities in online advertising for their benefit, and click fraud is one of them which has emerged as a menace for businesses and marketers. 
Click fraud can take various forms  
Such as click spamming, click injection, and automated clicks using bots.
SIVT (sophisticated Invalid traffic) pay-per-click spamming is the most popular technique for simulating performance. Here random clicks are fired to capture the organic sale. 
For the app users click injection is the most frequently faced fraud, a malicious publisher (app) on the phone detects that the consumer is using the ‘XYZ APP’ and injects a click in the background. This click has been injected to capture the user’s presence on the app to manipulate the attribution. This shows the complexities and evolving nature of ad fraud.    
The Rise of Digital Advertising in Southeast Asia  
Over the past decades, digital advertising spending has increased dramatically throughout Southeast Asia.  The rise of internet penetration rates in nations like Indonesia, Thailand, Vietnam, Malaysia, and the Philippines has accelerated the use of digital services.   
The Southeast Asia e-commerce market is projected to reach $762.6 billion by 2023, at a CAGR (Compound annual growth rate) of 19.8 from 2023 to 2030.  
Because of this, companies are making significant investments in PPC advertising and other digital marketing techniques to connect and interact with their target market audience. 
Click integrity monitoring to Reduce Click Fraud 
 Identifying click fraud is the first line of defense. After identifying the sources, the defense can be done through click integrity monitoring. 
Mitigating the negative effects of click farms on the advertising industry is not an easy task.  However, solutions like mFilterIt a leading provider in click fraud protection software, offer Valid8, an AI ML-based tool designed to combat click fraud effectively. 
Click here to read more about the Click Fraud.
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absurdthirst · 1 year ago
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High Infidelity {Dave York x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 11.1k
Warnings: Cheating, fraud, mentions of divorce, payback, forced cuckolding, restraints, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, revenge sex
Comments: When you find out that your husband is banging the neighbor's wife, you and the neighbor decide to make them pay.
Co-written with @pedropascalsx
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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The moment was bittersweet, finding out that your suspicions were correct and that he could no longer gaslight you was a temporary feeling of relief. Quickly replaced with hurt and devastation. He was your childhood sweetheart, your first and only love, and for the better part of a year he has been sleeping with the woman next door.
The same woman whose kids you babysat during the week to let her and her husband have a peaceful date night, the same woman who had sat in your kitchen a few nights earlier with a group a mutual friends and drank your wine, the same woman who had held your hand and reassured you the night that you found out your husband wasn’t able to have children.
Rewatching the footage of them kissing as they entered the bedroom you shared, him ripping off her dress as she unbuttoned his shirt made your heart lurch. Never would you have imagined it was with Carol York.
The signs he was cheating were there from day one; being overprotective of his phone, working late, charges on your joint account that just weren’t adding up and then the biggest cliche of all; lipstick on his collar. 
The urge to confront him was bubbling up in your stomach, and then you thought about Dave… Did he know? Did he suspect anything? Should you tell him? 
After going back and forth a few times you had settled on yes, he deserves to know. So you pick up your laptop, and slide in under your arm. Ready to go next door and tell him everything.
****
Rolling his eyes after the doorbell peels, Dave sighs and stands up from the kitchen table. His laptop open and report that was making his head throb was never fun but distractions just makes it harder to get back to work. Especially since the house is actually quiet with the girls at school and Carol at work. Moving towards the door, he opens it to find you, his next door neighbor waiting. He hums your name in surprise and wonders if something is wrong. “Hey.”
“Hey,” you reply with a weak smile, “I’m really sorry to interrupt whatever it is that you’re doing, but we need to talk.” 
“Everything alright?” Your face is filled with concern and he’s immediately on guard, eyes sliding behind you and not seeing anything that would have him reaching for the pistol kept in the entryway table.
“Honestly, no,” you admit with an uncomfortable laugh, “Can I come in? I don’t think it’s something I should tell you standing at your door.” 
Frowning, Dave stands back and lets you in the house. He normally doesn’t like having someone - especially female - at the house when Carol isn’t here. Busybodies talk and he hates that kind of shit. “What’s going on?” He asks as he closes the door. 
“Thank you,” you say as you walk into the kitchen and settle your laptop on the counter. “Look, I’m so sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but you deserve to know, and I’ve bought this here as evidence. I don’t have to show you it but I thought bringing proof was the best way to handle it... Carol and Tommy are having an affair.” 
The first instinct he has is to deny it. To question why you are telling him something that he knows isn’t true, but he doesn’t. There’ve been times where something doesn’t sit right with Dave. Carol’s ease of assuring him that Tommy will handle something while he’s out of town. “What evidence?” He demands, knowing the best thing is to hear you out. If it’s flimsy, he can start watching his wife’s actions. If it’s concrete proof, he will know.
“It’s a video,” you say as you open your laptop, “I’ve been suspicious for a while, and then I found underwear that definitely doesn’t belong to me. So I bought a nanny cam. Are you sure you want to see this?”
“Shit.” Dave hisses but he nods. “Show me.” He demands, hating how his stomach is curling at the thought. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about other women, but he hadn’t touched one.
You nod a few times before moving the laptop to face him, pressing play on a scene that makes you feel violently sick. “I’m so sorry, Dave. Never in a million years did I expect it to be with your wife… my friend.” 
Dave’s brows pull together, jaw tightening in anger as he watches, listens to the scene in front of him. There’s zero doubt that is his wife, bouncing on another guy's dick. He doesn’t even realize his hands clenched in anger as he watches, furious at the betrayal.
Seeing the fury and the obvious hurt on his face, you decide to pause the video and close down the laptop. He doesn’t need to see anymore and neither do you. “As soon as he gets home today, I'm making him leave. He can go back to his mothers.” 
Dave huffs, nearly glaring at you. “Show me the rest of it.” He demands.
You push the laptop over at him, and shake your head, “Fine, but I don’t want to see anymore.”
Nodding, he watches as you log back in and he pushes play. Glancing at you when you winch, hearing the moans and the breathless conversation as they fuck on what he assumes is your bed. “Fucking assholes.”
“She’s faking it,” you scoff, as the moans get more animated. “The man couldn’t give a woman an orgasm if his life depended on it.”
He snorts and it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask why the fuck you stayed with him then. “Don’t kick him out.” Dave decides seriously.
“What?” You say with a raised eyebrow, before both of your attention is immediately drawn back to them. Laying in their ‘post coital glow.’
“God, I swear she gets dumber every day,” your husband says with a laugh, “All I’ve got to do is pay her five minutes of attention and the stupid bitch thinks everything is fine. Doesn’t even realize that my lawyer has pretty much voided the prenuptial agreement. I’ll hand her the form to sign and just like the dutiful wife she is, she’ll be signing half her money over to me without as much of a second glance.”
“Dave makes good money, but he’s so fucking boring. He wants to ‘save for a rainy day’.” Carol hums. “But he doesn’t ever spend time with just me. He always wants the girls around. I’m tired of being a perfect mother. I honestly didn’t want Molly. But Dave had to try for his boy.” She snorts. “Too much of a pussy to give me a boy, I guess.”
Dave growls, pissed at the way she is talking about their daughter. He doesn’t give a shit about what she says about him. “She’s the fucking one who decided to take out her fucking birth control.”
“It’s been about a year,” you say to Dave, “Well, that’s when I started having suspicions. Always working late on a Thursday night, and unexplained charges on our joint account. I’ve let him walk over me for a year.” Tears start to well up in your eyes, and embarrassment floods through you. “I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t fucking cheat.” Dave scoffs. “Don’t be sorry.” He shakes his head, “don’t kick him out. Don’t show him that you know.” He advises, the gears in his mind already turning. “Get a lawyer, start moving your money around so he can’t take it.”
“Okay,” you say with a deep breath, “I have an account that he doesn’t have access to. Fuck. I’m so stupid. I knew he was cheating, I just let him gaslight me over and over.”
“You didn’t want to believe it.” Luckily you and the fucker don’t have kids, and he would just fucking kill them both, but the girls would miss their mother. He narrows his eyes at the screen. “Get a lock box, or safety deposit box for all your paperwork. will, social security cards, jewelry. Lock them up. Start removing him from shit. Access to the cell phone plan to make changes. Utilities, whatever you have jointly, unless it’s something he uses everyday.”
“I, uh, I should write this down,” you say, nodding your head, “Dave… Thursday nights… Was she here? There were nights where he came home the next morning after claiming he slept in the office.”
He shakes his head, huffing to himself. “She had ‘book club’.” He gives air quotes. “And since they supposedly always got so hammered, she would stay there.” He had thought it was stupid, but he had also felt like his wife deserved a night out, away from the kids.
“Fuck.” Shaking your head, “I’m going to go home. Start the things you’ve suggested. I’m really sorry again, Dave. I just felt you deserved to know.”
“Thank you for telling me.” His own situation is slightly more difficult, often the agency will put people on desk duty when finding out they are divorcing and he doesn’t want that. “Let me know if they make more videos. I’m going to install a camera here too.”
“Write down your email address and I'll send you that video. I guess we will have to work out a way to approach this together.”
Dave nods and reaches for the pad he keeps next to the home phone. Ripping off a sheet and writing his private email down, along with his phone number. “I’ll think of some way to make these fuckers sorry.” He promises, handing it to you. “I’m going to be finding out the toughest lawyer in the business. I’ll let you know their names.”
“Thank you, Dave,” you say as you feel your reserve slipping, the urge to cry coming back in full force. “Let’s make them pay.”
He nods, watching as you pick up your laptop. “Call me if you feel like you’re going to tell him you know.” He asks, knowing that he would tell Carol and then Dave would have to figure out a plan b.
“Will do.” The second you’re back inside, you start the tasks he gave you. Starting with gathering up all your important documents and putting them in a temporary safe space and then ordering a safe. You wonder how long Dave’s plan will take and hope it won’t be too long, the idea of sharing a bed with your husband makes your skin crawl.
****
Thursday’s have become sort of a check in day. You normally end up coming over and spending the evening with Dave and the girls. Sometimes having dinner and then staying once the girls had gone to bed. Tonight is another check in and Dave pours you a glass of wine. “How are you holding up?” He asks quietly.
“Better,” you admit with a smile, “Everything except the joint account is handled. Just ready to move on with my life and hopefully meet someone who actually cares about me. How about you?”
“Most everything was in my name anyway.” Dave admits with a small smirk. “She can’t touch the house since I bought it with my VA and I’m going for custody. I might have to pay her out, but whatever.”
“I guess him being infertile ended up working in my favor,” you say sadly, “I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone because he said that it was embarrassing, but I own the house. My Dad left me an inheritance and I was fortunate enough to buy it outright with it. I’m going to miss living here.”
“Why are you going to move?” Dave asks. “If you own the house and bought it with your inheritance, it’s yours.”
“I always imagined filling it with kids,” you say with a shrug, “I don’t want to be in a big house that’ll remind me just how alone I am.”
He frowns slightly, even as he voices his next thought. “You could always bring in another guy.” He reminds you. “Find love and fill it with kids.”
“I guess.” The sadness is evident in your voice, so you change the subject, “So are you any closer to coming up with a plan?”
Dave chuckles and glances up just as there is a loud thump upstairs. “After the girls are asleep.” He promises, knowing little ears don’t need to hear his plan.
“Sounds like you have something figured out,” you say before taking a sip of your wine.
“Do you want to humiliate them?” Dave asks with a small smirk. “And get revenge?”
“Yes,” you answer with a smile, “I want him to hurt the way he hurt me.”
“Then I’ll tell you about my plan in twenty minutes.” He promises and nods to your wine.
“So drink up, you’re gonna need it.”
Wordlessly you nod and take another large sip of your wine, desperate to hear his plan.
The two of you dance around the subject, talking about things in the news, events happening in town and Dave enjoys it. He’s come to enjoy talking to you and spending time in your company. Your husband is an idiot to throw over someone who is funny and nice, actually pays attention to the world around her - he doesn’t deserve you. When Dave’s self appointed time is up, he sets down his own wine glass and leans in close. “We should sleep together.” He announces.
“What?” You say with a giggle, convinced you’d misheard him. You had thought about it, fuck the last few times you’ve slept with your husband you’d found yourself imagining it was Dave, circling your clit with such intensity that you came harder than ever before. “I mean… Fuck, I want to. But wouldn’t that make us just as bad?”
“Not if we fuck in front of them.” Dave chuckles, smirking slightly because of your admission of want. “As a sort of goodbye gift to them.” 
“Oh,” you say, thinking about the look of Tommy’s face as Dave fucks you. Tommy paraded you around like a trophy, having no issues embarrassing you by announcing to anyone and everyone that you lost your virginity to him and he’d be the only man to have been inside of you. Like you were his possession. “I like it. But I have one condition…. and you might find it a little weird.”
“What’s that?” Dave tilts his head and looks at you curiously. It’s not unusual to have conditions and he would be surprised if you didn’t.
“I want you to cum inside of me.” You say after taking a deep breath, “I’ll buy Plan B in preparation and you can watch me take it. But I need for him to see that it’s really over, and despite what he thinks… he doesn’t own me.”
Dave frowns and then he remembers the first Christmas party after you had moved into the neighborhood. Tommy had been shit housed and bragging about how his was the only ever cum you’ve had. He had marked you good and proper. Dave hums, his lips curling up wickedly. “Done.”
“Thank you.” It feels oddly liberating to think about. “I don’t think we should do it in the houses though… Maybe book a hotel. Request adjoining rooms and keep everything a surprise. Blindfolds and gags. Only reveal to them what’s happening after they’re strapped to some shitty hotel chair unable to move.”
He raises a brow and smirks at how quickly you came up with something that is so feasible. “Noise canceling headphones.” Dave adds, nodding. “So they can’t hear us opening the door and whatever, not until we are ready.”
“Perfect. I want them to suffer. And I know that’s awful to say out loud but the way they spoke about us… fuck.” You shake your head and laugh, “You know that he doesn’t pay for a single bill in our house. Works part time and the entirety of his paychecks go on his stupid hobbies… Golfing or gaming. I put money into our joint account each month and he just… Fuck. He gets nothing.”
“You have a prenup, and a clause for cheating.” Dave smirks and chuckles. “Carol’s gonna get something, but it won’t be enough for her liking.”
“I can’t wait to see the look on his face as you fuck me.” You say with a chuckle, before finishing up your wine. “What’s your favorite color?”
Dave grins and imagines you in his favorite color. “Green.” He hums. “Dark green.”
“Dark green it is,” you say with a wink. “When do you wanna do this?”
“I say we wait and do it when the lawyers finish the divorce papers.” Dave suggests. “We pack their shit that day and load it into a storage unit, change our locks and codes, fuck in front of them, drop the keys and the papers and shoot them the bird on the way out the door.”
“That sounds perfect. I know this sounds weird to say, but I'm kind of grateful he cheated. I would have spent forever living in his shadow and the past few weeks I’ve really started to realize that he doesn’t deserve me.” You say, with your first genuine smile in weeks. “Also I get to fuck my sexy neighbour in revenge.”
“You think I’m sexy?” Dave’s brows wing up and he’s flattered by the compliment. It’s been a long time since someone’s said that. The marriage had hit rocky patches before but never like this and he sees now that she’s been disengaging for a while.
“I have eyes, Dave,” you say with a giggle, “Every woman on this block stops and stares when you walk past. Those shoulders… Fuck. Those lips.”
“You’re so full of shit.” Dave huffs, rolling his eyes even if he secretly likes the compliment.
“Oh please,” you say, “Like you haven’t noticed the staring. Honestly, I’ve thought of you whilst using my wand,” you admit with a shrug, “After seeing you mowing the lawn shirtless.”
He smirks and leans back. “Might do that on purpose.” He admits with a shrug. “Tanning and all.”
“Well thank you for the show,” you giggle. “God, I can’t believe she cheated on you with him. I know he’s my husband but I had the excuse of him being my high school sweetheart. We’ve been together for years and he’s never made me cum once.”
“Bullshit.” Dave snorts and shakes his head. “Not even once? By accident?” He asks, nearly amazed by how fucking horrible that is.
“Never. He doesn’t do foreplay, and he’s never found that spot inside of me,” you shrug, “Usually I let him do his thing so I can roll over and sleep, occasionally I’ll rub my clit just to distract myself.”
“He doesn’t eat your pussy?” Dave’s eyes widen in shock and disgust. He understands that not all women cum from sex, he had a girlfriend before Carol who could not cum from penetration but he damn sure made her cum on his tongue.
“Nope. Never. He’s never even tried it, says the idea of it makes him ‘queasy’.” Looking over at him and seeing the look of surprise on his face makes you chuckle, “Guess I didn’t pick a good one.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, what a moron.” He shakes his head and his opinion of Tommy drops even lower than before and he didn’t think that was possible. “What a ….fuck, a pussy.”
“Nah. A pussy is useful,” you correct him, “I should get back. I’m super tired and he hasn’t texted saying it’s a ‘late one’ tonight so I figure they’ll be home soon. I will be counting down the seconds until the lawyers are done with the paperwork.”
“I would offer to show you what a real man does with his mouth, but I’ll wait to give him a ‘lesson’.” Dave hums, standing up and offering you a hand to get up off the couch.
“Oh, yeah? You going to eat my little pussy in front of him?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. You take his hand and let him help you up.
“Fuck yes.” Dave smirks. “If he finds it repulsive, I also wanna remind Carol what she’s missing. She fucking loved when I would go down on her.”
You hum happily, “I can’t wait to feel those lips on me.” Leaning forward you place a small kiss on his cheek, “Thank you for tonight. I really enjoy spending time with you and your gorgeous girls. I’ll be waiting impatiently for the paperwork to be completed. Goodnight, Dave.”
“Good night, sweetheart.” Dave walks you to the door and opens it for you. “As soon as it’s in, we’ll make sure they regret cheating on us.”
“Yes we will,” you agree with a smile, before walking back over to your house. Creeping upstairs and getting into the shower. Letting yourself get lost in imagining the feeling of Dave’s hands all over you, his mouth on your cunt and his cock buried inside of you. Your fingertips work your bundle of nerves as quickly as they can and you cum with a soft moan of his name. Climbing out of the shower you get dried, fix your hair and get into your pajamas. Wanting to be asleep or at least pretending to be when Tommy finally crawls in beside you.
****
“I got my papers.” Dave risks a call, knowing Carol isn’t checking the phone bill and calling you as soon as he steps out from his lawyers office. They don’t approve of his idea, but he also wasn’t told he couldn't do it. Just that he shouldn’t and he doesn’t agree with that.
“Me too,” you say gleefully down the phone. “You want to do it this weekend?”
“I’m thinking so.” Dave grins at the glee in your voice. “How do we want to lure them to the hotel?”
“I’m thinking we both book a room - request they’re adjoining, and once they’re both blindfolded, gagged and wearing headphones, we unlock the door and I'll lead Tommy into your room?”
“That works.” Dave agrees. “I’ll tell Carol I want to put some spice back in our marriage.”
“I’ll tell Tommy I have a surprise planned. I’ll go ahead and call and book the hotel.. and then I have some shopping to do… Dark green right?”
“Dark green.” He hums. “I’m going to enjoy ripping it off of you.” He admits, voice dropping.
“Keep playing with my pussy to the thought of it,” you whisper into your phone. “Only a few days to go.”
“I’ll book the rooms together but put one under your name.” Dave tells you, knowing that he will be able to convince them of it.
“Perfect. Is there anything you need me to do?”
“Start making noises to your husband about getting away. Doing something romantic this weekend. I’m going to ‘surprise’ Carol.”
“Perfect. Can’t wait to see the look on both of their faces. I’ll text you tonight, once I've told him about the surprise.”
The rest of the day goes by smoothly, you pop into Victoria’s secret and spot the perfect set and make your way home. Large glass of wine poured, you sip it generously as you listen to his footsteps approaching the door. 
“Good day at work?” You call out from the kitchen with a roll of your eyes. 
“Long,” Tommy groans before reaching over and helping himself to your wine, “Tomorrow is going to be longer.” 
“Oh. I really hope they’re going to start paying you for those long Thursday nights. Sometimes you don’t even make it home. It’s not good for you sleeping on your office floor,” you say with the most sympathetic smile you can force. “Anyway, I have a plan for Saturday night that’ll make it all better. A surprise for you.” 
“A surprise?” He says with a raised eyebrow and a curl of his lips, “What kind of surprise?”
“All will be revealed,” you say as you turn to him with a small kiss on his cheek, “A surprise that involved me spending a huge amount of money in Victoria’s secret for someone.” You leave him standing in the kitchen with a grin plastered on his face as you begin to climb the stairs with the rest of the wine and a new glass, “Dinner is ordered, i’m going for a bath.”
Dinner passes with its normal antics from the kids and Dave watches Carol. Nothing about her demeanor says that she’s cheating but he’s found the credit card she’s using to pay for it. It’s a secret one that she opened in his name. Not only is she renting hotel rooms, but she’s doing it on his fucking credit. It’s malicious irony that Dave booked the rooms at the same hotel that her and Tommy frequent.
Avoiding him for the rest of the evening, you have a long hot soak in the bath and only retreat back downstairs to grab your dinner and a drink. Spending the rest of the evening in bed watching netflix whilst he watches TV downstairs. 
You decide to shoot Dave a quick text to let him know you’ve told Tommy about the surprise, and check you’re still on for to meet up and go over the plan the next evening. 
‘Hey. Told him that I’ve booked a special surprise, and he ate it up. He’s told me he’s “working late” tomorrow, so I can pop around and we can go over things?’
Dave hums as his phone buzzes, Carol engrossed in her show so he slides his phone out and grins. His own reply comes quickly. ‘Sure. Now I wonder if Carol will be told about your plans this weekend? Ever wonder if he tells her that you two still have sex?’ 
You huff and type back. ‘We’ve had sex twice in the past two months, so I’m pretty sure if he’s saying anything, it’s about my lack of interest in the cheating bastard. Only fucked him so he would stop questioning why I was being distant. I doubt he’ll say anything though. The last video of them cheating he spent most of it, reassuring her that he doesn’t love me and never did. Do you think she’ll tell him about your ‘plans’?’
Dave snorts. ‘Haven’t told her. Plan on doing it at the last minute and making it seem like a romantic gesture.’
‘Good idea. I can’t wait till he is out of my house. Out of my life.’
‘Won’t be long. Just don’t kill him over the next few days.’ Dave chuckles to himself and when Carol looks up, he points to the tv. “They are so stupid it’s funny.” He explains, putting his phone away.
‘I’ll try.’ You reply before settling down for the night, wanting to be fasting asleep before Tommy gets upstairs.
****
The next day Tommy is ‘working late’ and Carol has a suspiciously timed meeting that runs over. Making Dave shake his head at how stupidly brazen they are getting. Still, he looks out the window and sees you walking over about an hour after he gets home with the kids.
You knock the door, dessert in hand as Alice whips open the door and immediately informs you that she and Molly are going to eat pizza in her room and watch a movie as you chat to Daddy.
Dave chuckles as you walk in. “The girls are getting spoiled.” He hums. “And so am I.”
“You have no idea,” you say with a wink, “I hear it’s pizza tonight? Sounds perfect.”
“Yeah, Carol had a “meeting”.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Strange, right?”
“Who’d have thought?” You giggle, “Well-,” you say as you pick up the glass of wine he’d poured for you, “Here’s to the last time they lie to us.”
“Are you ready for it?” He asks quietly, picking up his own glass. “For the big reveal?”
“I am counting down the seconds.” You say with a smile. “God, I hope they realize we aren’t to be fucked with.”
“I think they will figure that out when they don’t walk away with the pot of gold like they were expecting.” Dave snorts.
“I just can’t wait to see his face when he realizes that I'm not his trophy anymore.” The doorbell rings and Dave goes to get the pizza as you pour the girls out their juice, ready to take it upstairs to them for their movie night.
“Girls!” The two girls thunder downstairs to grab their cheese pizza and disappear just as quickly, each one fighting over who was going to sing the first song. Dave shakes his head and looks at you with a faux harried expression. “They are going to be trouble later on.” He predicts with a groan.
“I’m sure you can handle it, they worship their Daddy.” You say before topping up your glasses, “I’m going to miss this.”
“Why are you going to miss it?” Dave asks, frowning slightly.
“It’s been nice. Coming around and eating with you and the girls, the highlight of my week. They’re both absolutely adorable.”
“You can still come over anytime.” He offers. “If you aren’t out on dates, you know.” He shrugs and shoots you a smirk.
“Me? Dating? Unlikely. But I’d still love to come over. I mean it when I say it’s the highlight of my week.” You take a small sip and try to ignore the way he makes you feel, the past few weeks you had grown closer to Dave and started to really appreciate how good of a man he is. 
“Shit.” Dave snorts. “You’ll be dating before the fucking ink is dry.” He predicts. “You’re beautiful, kind, funny and smart. And I bet you are killer in the sack. He’s an idiot.” He tells you, talking about your stupid soon-to-be-ex.
“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask quietly. “I can’t remember the last time someone complimented me. And the killer in the sack? Well I guess you don’t have long to find out.”
“I can’t wait to find out.” Dave admits quietly. “And you should be getting compliments all the time.”
“As should you. You’re remarkable. The best daddy ever, you work so hard and it’s appreciated, Dave.” You say before squeezing his hand, “And I’m excited to show you just how appreciated you are.”
“Is that what it’s going to be?” Dave asks, grinning slightly. “A show of appreciation?”
“If that’s what you want,” you tease, “Going to suck your cock. Just the thought of it makes me so wet.”
“Jesus.” His eyes widen, surprised you even said that out loud. He’s thought about it plenty, but apparently so have you. “Then we’ll have to do a sixty-nine. Because I’m gonna give your dumbass husband a lesson on how to make a woman squeal his name.”
“Fuck, that sounds perfect. But also to start I want to look into your eyes as I'm sucking your cock. Feel you fuck my mouth,” you whisper quietly.
“Have you ever done that before?” Dave asks, raising a brow and trying not to spring a boner at the thought of you letting him face fuck you.
“Nope,” you admit quietly. “Tommy had me blow him for a bit pretty much every time we had sex. But it was tame.”
“Bet he likes you to ‘look pretty’ while his dick is in your mouth.” Dave scoffs. “When your mascara should be running and the split is soaking your chin.”
“He just wants to get off. Fuck. I want that.” 
Dave has been careful not to touch you. Not willing to put himself in the same level as Carol. He still won’t fuck you but he does reach out, talking ahold if your chin and rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Then we’re going to enjoy it. You’re going to enjoy it.”
You reach out and squeeze his hand again, before taking another sip of your wine and a bite of your pizza. This time in 48 hours it’ll be the beginning of the new end, and the start of something new and exciting.
****
The day of, Dave walks up to Carol at the kitchen sink and wraps his arms around her. Imagining choking her, he forced himself to kiss her neck. “I arranged for the girls to have a sleepover tonight.” He hums, pressing himself up against her and imagining fucking you so he gets hard. “Booked us a hotel room.”
“Oh?” Carol squeals with excitement, “Which one? What’s the plan?” Pushing herself against him a little harder. One thing about Carol York is that she’ll never say no to a surprise.
Dave names the hotel and pretends not to notice the split second of his wife freezing in his arms. He knows she panics and the moment she relaxes, making him hum. “Figured it’s been awhile since we had a night to ourselves.”
“That sounds lovely, darling,” she says, “But I don’t want you wasting your money on me. We can just have a quiet night in.”
“Travel points.” Dave lies easily, knowing that she doesn’t want to go back to the same hotel where she’s been visiting every week. “Already booked and waiting on us. Already checked in.”
“Sounds great,” she lies, hoping the weekend staff aren’t the same as the ones during the week.
****
“You excited for tonight, honey?” You ask Tommy, who’s wolfing down his breakfast. 
“Can't wait to see what you spent a fortune on in Victoria’s Secret, I think I’m due a sneak preview, just to get me through the day.” He says with a wink. 
“No previews. The someone I bought this for will absolutely love it. I assure you.” You say as you go upstairs to pack you ‘both’ an overnight bag.
Dave manages to talk Carol into packing a bag, hustling her out of the house and into the car without much fuss. The girls have already been deposited at their friends house and as soon as she and Dave leave, a team of professional movers will be coming and boxing up everything Dave discreetly tagged to move into the storage unit he had rented.
You stick to the plan and wait for the text from Dave telling you they’re about to check in before you leave. Not wanting any awkward run-ins at reception. “Hey honey, I forgot to fill up my car, mind if I drive yours?” You ask innocently. Knowing that Dave had arranged for the movers to come to yours after they’ve collected Carol's stuff, and taking his car meant he’d have no reason to come back to your house.
Huffing, Tommy rolls his eyes, desperately thinking if he had left any evidence of Carol being in the car. “You’re lucky I make sure that my car is filled up all the time.” He lectures. “You need to take care of those things.”
“I’m sorry, love,” you say with a fake pout, “Had a lot on my mind.” You take the car keys from him and load up the car, seconds after the go ahead text from Dave. He huffs again as he enters the passenger side and starts droning on about how ‘he needs to know’ where you’re both staying that night. 
“You’ll know soon enough, baby,” you placate with a squeeze of his knee, “Heard great things about this place.”
The plan was for Dave to unlock the adjoining door on his side when Carol was in the bathroom but leave it shut so she wouldn’t know, and you were to do the same when you got into the room.
“You won’t tell me where we are going and you won't let me see the lingerie.” He grumbles. “I thought you were spoiling me.”
“Like I said you’ll see soon enough,” you smile, “We’re not too far from where we are staying.”
Tommy shifts uneasily as he watches his normal hotel come into view. “Here honey?” He makes it sound like that’s a horrible idea. “I’ve heard this place is a dump.”
“Oh no,” you say with a shake of your head, “It’s a five star hotel, honey, cost me a fortune but tonight will be worth it.” You say with a wink, come on, let’s get checked in. “Maybe we can order room service.”
Tommy plasters on a fake smile and chuckles. Praying that no one recognizes him. It would ruin his plan.
You notice how antsy he is as you check in and it makes you grin and shake your head. He cowers behind you at the check in desk and stares at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with anyone and practically running towards the elevator once you’ve got your keycard. 
‘Here.’ You text Dave in the elevator, pretending to text your mom. “God this hotel is gorgeous, I can’t wait to see our room.”
“Maybe we can just stay in our room all night.” Tommy manages, reaching out and snagging your waist. “Lock the world away.”
“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” you assure him, “The plans I have for tonight, don’t involve you going anywhere.”
He’s relieved, planning on hiding in the bathroom when you decide to order room service. He can’t let anyone let you know about his plans, he’s not ready yet. Still needing access to the deed for the house. He wants to add himself to it so he can take it from you. It’ll be nice rental income, moving in with Carol and renting out that house.
You open the door and take a look around the room, unlocking your side of the adjoining rooms as Tommy has a “first look”  around the bathroom. You open your bag and start to take out a few bits, quietly calling him back in the room so Carol can’t hear you shouting his name. “Are you excited for tonight?”
“Depends on if you're going to suck my dick or not.” Tommy grins, thinking that he’s being romantic. The one bad thing about Carol is that she’s not willing to give him head if he doesn’t go down on her. Claiming that you might have understood, but she wasn’t a doormat. He missed someone sucking his dick.
“I promise that there will be some dick in this pretty little mouth tonight,” you tease, before picking up the blindfold and gag you had hidden in your purse, “Are you going to be a good boy and do as I say?”
Tommy’s brows shoot up. “What’s this?” He demands, grinning. “You never want to play.”
“Just thought we’d spice things up a little,” you reply softly, “I can feel you slipping away from me. I read some tips… you don’t want to?”
“No, no.” Tommy’s greedy. You might be boring in bed but you are also the only woman who has only had him. “I want to. I’m just surprised you want to. Sure you don’t want me to blindfold you?”
“Maybe later, but right now I want to do this my way.” Walking over, you untie his tie and motion for him to give you his hands, using the tie to restrain him. Before gagging, blindfolding and putting on his noise canceling headphones. 
‘Ready when you are!’ You text Dave after sitting Tommy down on one of the two hotel chairs and lightly restraining him to it. 
Lifting off one side of his headphones you whisper into his ears, “Good things come to those who wait.”
Dave hums, deciding that he would lift his own noise canceling headphones off Carol’s ear. She’s already tied up, but not in a chair. “Come on baby, I’m going to guide you.” He coos in her ear. “Trust me.”
You open the adjoining door after hearing Dave open his, and flash him a little smile as he guides Carol to the chair next to Tommys. 
“You ready?” You ask him, as he steps back and places his hand on the small of your back.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Dave doesn’t fucking care about them, they made their bed. But if you don’t want to do this, he can pull the plug and just snatch the rug out from under them without ever laying a finger on you.
Rocking up on your tiptoes, you place a fleeting kiss to his lips before nodding. “I’m ready, ready to follow your lead.”
“Do you still want to suck my cock?” Dave asks, reaching up and cupping your cheek.
“Fuck, yes, i’ve been thinking about it all day.”
He hums and pats your cheek lightly, “then strip down. I want you naked on your knees so I can fuck you right away when we get done indulging.”
“You don’t wanna rip this off of me in front of them?” You ask as you unbutton your sundress and let it fall to the floor, revealing the dark green lacy lingerie set you had picked out just for Dave.
“Fuck.” He hisses, cock twitching at seeing his favorite color on your body. “Never mind. Keep it on. I’ll strip.”
“Yes sir,” you say with a giggle, excited to finally feel his hands on you.
Dave strips down quickly, watching Tommy and Carol start to shift restlessly in their chairs. Antsy. He smirks and arches a brow when he shucks his pants and reveals his hard cock. “Sure you want to do this?”
“Holy shit, it’s gorgeous,” you choke out at the sight of his cock, “Fuck yes. You ready to take their blindfolds off?”
“Blindfolds and headphones.” He hums. “Not the gags.”
“Let’s go.” You walk towards Tommy and Dave walks towards Carol. On his signal headphones are removed and then masks. The look on your now ex-husbands face is a sight to behold. Both of them stare at each other in utter bewilderment as you take a step back and take Dave’s hand. “Hello, honey, how are you liking your surprise? Must be nice to see the woman you’ve been fucking for the better part of a year here with us and her husband too.” 
Dave chuckles and shakes his head as his face drops into a scowl at the two of them. They are completely frozen and panicked. "It's funny that you think we wouldn't find out." He tells them flatly before he turns to you. "Why don't we show them what it's like to watch your spouse fuck the neighbor?"
“I think we should,” you say with a giggle, as you perch yourself on the end of the bed. “Hurt them, how they hurt us.”
“Maybe they won’t give a shit.” The muffled protests coming from the two seems to disprove that, but Dave just leans in to press his lips to yours softly. It’s the first kiss he’s ever given you. When he pulls back he tells them that before smirking. “I want you on your knees, pretty girl.”
You ignore the sounds coming from that side of the room, and immediately get up and sink down to your knees. Looking up at Dave with your sweetest smile before gently holding on to the base of him, and placing a light kiss on the tip of his cock. The tip bright red and begging for release, you lick the bead of precum that’s gathered at the top and slowly wrap your lips around him. Not used to having something so big in your mouth, you moan at the stretch, taking him in just a few inches and swirling your tongue around him. 
“Fuck.” Dave hisses, looking down at you and cupping your cheek. “Take more of it. I know you can. But don’t choke. I’m going to fuck that pretty throat of yours.”
You do as he instructs as take him further into your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. Slowly bobbing up and down before taking him further, loving the firm grip he has on your face. You can feel yourself getting wetter the deeper you take him, the sounds he makes spurring you on and making you crave more.
“Unlike you two, this is the first time for us.” Dave groans, sliding his hand around to cup the back of your head. “So you get to enjoy the first time I fuck your wife since you’ve been fucking mine.”
You hollow your cheeks and suck as hard as you can as your nose just brushes against the patch of hair at the base. Drowning out the groans of annoyance from Tommy and Carol by moaning happily around him. Tears stream from your eyes as he keeps your head from moving, keeping you still as he feeds you the last inch or so of his cock.
Once Dave feels the back of your throat constrict around him, he pulls his hips back. “Fuck, I’m gonna enjoy this.” He groans, holding your head tights as he snaps his hips forward roughly and buries his cock in your mouth again.
You almost squeal as he fucks into your mouth, groaning in pleasure as you suck around him. Praising you for taking him so well, and telling you how pretty you look with his cock in your needy little mouth.
Both Tommy and Carol are struggling against the ties that bind them in the chairs. Shouting against the gags, but Dave doesn’t even pay them any attention. Focusing on you. “That pretty little pussy is wet, isn’t it?” He huffs. “Can’t wait to taste it. To lick you until you squeal my name.”
Looking up at him through your tear stained eyelashes you nod dutifully, a smile stretching across your already stretched out mouth. Before you resume your focus on his cock, bobbing your head to meet the snap of his hips, chasing more of those groans he floods the room with.
“You should have licked her cunt, Tommy.” Dave growls mockingly. “Now I’m going to and she’s going to realize what she’s been missing being with a piece of shit like you.” He smirks, looking over at his wife as she cries. “Can’t believe you put up with that shit. Especially since you know how good my tongue is.”
You pull off him and stroke his length, you’ve drenched the lacy material from sucking his cock alone and feel yourself flood the fabric further as he talks about eating you out. “Dave,” you say with a breathy moan, as you lick the weeping tip of him, “I need you.”
Smirking, he grabs your hand and helps you up, sliding his hand down between your legs possessively. “Fuck, you’re soaked baby girl.” He growls. “Want to see how much wetter I can get you. Gotta undress you first.” The panties are ripped off, pulling a moan out of you and he chuckles when the expensive green top also rips apart in his hands. The chairs are positioned so that the bed is on full display and he pulls you down onto it with him.
“I wanna show him,” you mumble, “I wanna show him how fucking wet I get when I actually want to suck a cock, I want him to see how you could slide right in with no fucking lube.”
“Shit.” Dave slaps your ass and smirks at the two spouses. “Never really thought about fucking her until we found out you two were cheating.” He admits. “So thank you.”
“Can’t say I didn’t think about Dave,” you admit with a shrug as you shuffle towards Tommy, opening your legs and letting him see your glistening cunt.
"I thought about it." He amends, "but I never considered doing it until now. Because I was fucking married."
“Same,” you shrug, “Shame that the people we married didn’t feel the same.” You shift back up and take his face in your hands, “I want you to do whatever you need to me, baby.”
"Fuck, I want you to sit on my face." Dave coos, reaching down to slide a finger through your folds and grins when you shiver. "Show you how a real man eats pussy."
“Yes sir,” you whisper before kissing him, watching as he lays down on his back and as he motions for you to move up. You lower yourself down slowly, hovering a few inches from his face.
“Fuck.” Dave groans, his cock twitching at the sight and he tilts his head back to look at Tommy. “Don’t know how you didn’t dive into this cunt every chance you got.” He huffs before he grabs your hips and pulls you down onto his tongue.
“Dave,” you yelp, as he slowly drags his tongue through your folds. Teasing your clit over and over. One of the hands finds purpose in his hair, tangling in his slightly overgrown style as the other grips onto the headboard. Your hips start to rock of their own accord, chasing your high, as a brand new sensation overwhelms you.
He flicks and curls his tongue, showing off for the cheating bastards who are still squirming and huffing through their gags, but also for you. Wanting to make the first time you’ve ever been eaten out memorable for more reasons than just showing up your cheating ex.
You can’t stop panting his name, moaning it over and over as you soak his face. It doesn’t take long until you’re hanging over the edge, seconds from cumming because of another person for the first time in your life. “So close, baby, so close.” You choke out through ragged breaths.
Dave groans, squeezing your hips and encouraging you to cum for him. Eager to taste it and to show your bastard husband that you deserved it.
With a few more flicks of his tongue against your clit, you’re cumming hard, flooding his face with your arousal as he pulls you apart in the most incredible way.
Dave groans and keeps you pressed against him, wanting to have you soak up every bit of your pleasure until you are sobbing his name out loud.
It doesn’t take long until you’re meeting his silent demand, and the yells shimmer down to you whimpering his name. You want to taunt your husband, tell him that’s what it looks like when you cum, but you don’t. You focus on Dave, moving yourself down him slowly and straddling his waist, before leaning back down and whispering the softest ‘thank you’ into his ear.
Smirking slightly, Dave nods. He’s not thinking about Tommy or Carol right now, he’s tuned them out. But he is thinking about you and how fucking wet you are, grinding down on his cock. “Can I fuck you?” He asks, even though you are on top of him.
“Please,” you plead, with a smile. “How do you want me?”
“Do you want to ride me to start out with?” He asks, caressing your hip.
“Can we build up to that?” You say quietly, “You’re huge. It’s going to be a stretch, I’m not used to anything like this.”
“That’s good,” Dave nods, knowing he doesn’t want to hurt you. “Lay down on your side, facing your loving husband.” He smirks, imagining the look on the bastard's face when he slides into you.
“Okay,” you nod, biting back the endearment hanging off the tip of your tongue. You do as he says, looking at your furious husband, feeling a shiver run through. Fearing what he might do once he’s unrestrained.
Dave curls around you, hand sliding up to cup your breast and then down to your thigh. “Don’t worry. He’s not going to touch you.” He promises, whispering in your ear. “I won’t let him lay a finger on you.”
Within seconds of feeling his touch, the fear is replaced with excitement and lust and the need to feel him slip into you. “Fuck me, Dave,” you plead, letting your eyes flicker up to your husband one more time, before letting yourself forget he’s in the room.
He chuckles quietly and lifts your thigh, bringing it back over his hip and opening you up to their view. “I’m going to fuck you. Been thinkin’ about fucking you for weeks. Imagining how tight and hot you’d be.” He kisses along your jaw as he slides closer and shifts to take his cock in his hand.
You let him mold you into the position he wants you, loving the way his hands feel on you. “God, me too. Fuck. Played with my pussy every night dreaming about this.”
The head teases your slit, sliding around and he hums. “Good.” He glances at his crying wife and your angry husband and smirks. “Let me know how it feels, baby.” He orders as he starts to push inside you.
You whimper as he starts to inch into you, the stretch of him feeling delicious. “Feels so good, baby,” you choke out, before placing your hand on top of his and squeezing. “So fucking big.”
“That’s it.” Dave growls, slowly rocking his hips and sinking deeper. “You’re taking it so good, baby. Squeezing my dick like a vice.”
“Fuck,” you moan, as he hits something new inside of you. Something that makes you clamp down hard around him and chant his name like sacred prayer, over and over.
He doesn’t start fucking you like it’s his last day on earth. Not yet anyway. He takes his time. Measured thrusts meant to make you cry out and yet he’s not giving it his all. Changing the pace and force often to keep things stimulated for you and remind Carol what she’s given up.
It’s nothing you’ve ever experienced before, someone chasing their high whilst chasing yours just as hard. With every moan, and flutter he praises you for taking him so well, for soaking his cock and squeezing him so perfectly.
His hands start to wander. Knowing that women love to be worshiped while they are having sex, his hands squeeze and grope adoringly. Forgetting about your audience, he concentrates on the breathless moans and whimpers that come from your throat. Seemingly made more desperate everytime he praises you.
“I think I’m go—,” is all you’re able to get out, before you clamp down around him hard and cum on his cock. Focusing on his sweet praises as you convulse in pleasure, feeling your sheets dampen beneath you as he keeps the same delicious pace throughout your high.
"That's it, fuck that's it, baby girl." Dave moans as he feels you cum all over him. "Soak my cock. Show me how fucking wet your little pussy gets when you cum." He huffs. "You needed this, didn't you? It's been so fucking long since you've really cum, hasn't it?"
“Needed it so bad,” you pant, as you come back down. “Never cum like that before. You want me to ride you now, baby?” You ask, as you pull his hand up to your mouth and gently kiss it.
"Yes." Dave pulls out of you and rolls onto his back, eager to feel you on top of him again. "Ride me, baby girl."
“I love it when you call me baby,” you say, as you straddle his hips and sink down onto him. Taking him inch by inch, until you’re filled with him. Slowly you start to rock your hips, building up to a pace that has him groaning your name. The sound of muffled cries and shouting drowned out both of your pleasure. His thumb finds his clit and he rubs gentle circles into it as you ride him, wanting to feel his cock throb against your tights walls that are fluttering around him.
You don’t bounce on his cock, or slam yourself back. It’s a slow grind that he finds himself grunting every time you circle your hips. He just keeps his eyes on you. Enjoying the way your own close and your head tilts back as you moan.
With every rock of your hips, he notches against paradise. Soft moans slip from your slips, as you chase your high again. Wanting to cum one more time before he does. Needing to feel him as much as you can, for as long as you possibly can.
One hand on your hip, another on your clit, he urges you to cum. “Come on baby, I know you can cum around my cock, again.” He groans, thrusting up into you shallowly. “Want to see it, beautiful.”
You rock your hips a little faster, chasing more friction from this hand on your clit and with a one word command for you to ‘cum’, you’re clamping down around him once more. Pleasure coursing throughout your body as he keeps you from falling forward, and continues to fuck up into you. Praising you for taking him for so well and fitting around him like a glove.
Once you have collapsed into his chest, Dave rolls you over and pushes your legs wider. Grunting as he takes over and his next thrust is hard enough to have you yelling.
“Fuck,” you scream, as he begins a breath stealing pace. “F-fill me up,” you beg, as he pounds in and out of you.
There’s renewed struggling and muffled screaming. Tommy most likely when he hears the plea for Dave to fill you up, but he doesn’t give a shit. Focusing on you and his own mounting pleasure as he fucks you hard and fast.
The sounds that are coming from you are unrecognizable. Brand new. Noises of pure unfiltered pleasure drowning out everything else. “Please,” you choke out, the word pained as another orgasm threatens to devastate your exhausted body. “Please, Dave.”
“Gonna- gonna cum.” He growls, clenching his jaw to push another few thrusts out of his body that screams for release. He knows you’re close again. He can feel it. Needs to see you do it again for his own selfish pride.
With little to no warning, he pulls you back over that edge with him. His thrusts sloppy as you clamp down hard around him, practically screaming his name as you milk him dry of his cum. He grits out a little praise in your ear, before groaning your name and wrapping his arms around you as you sink deeper into the mattress. 
Dave groans at the first piercing sound of his name, giving in and pushing deep as he starts to cum. Tightening his hold on you as he groans your name. Rolling his hips as he fills you.
“You feel so good,” you whimper as he paints your walls. You don’t want it to end, you want him to stay buried inside your desperate cunt forever. You can’t pretend that the past few weeks you haven’t been falling for him, and now being wrapped in his arms, you’re well and truly screwed. Literally.
“So good, baby. Fuck, that’s a tight little cunt.” He coos. “Never would have gone anywhere else if I had you in my bed.” It’s a shot at your husband, but it’s also true. He pulls back and presses his lips to yours before looking back at the cheaters still tied to their chairs. “We’re divorcing you both.” He announces.
“And you’ve already signed the papers,” you say with a smile, before immediately looking back at Dave. “Tommy gave me the idea. You were going to hand me an amended version of the prenup right? And this “dumb dutiful wife” was going to sign it without even glancing it over.”
Dave smirks when he sees Tommy’s eyes widen and his face drops. Discovering that his plot has been discovered. “Oops.” He hums sarcastically.
You giggle, before gently turning Dave’s face back towards yours and kissing him as hard as you can, a kiss that speaks a thousand words without saying any. “Thank you,” you murmur against his lips, knowing it’s time to face the music.
“Of course.” Dave sees the uncertainty and anxiety cross your face. He can tell you are scared of what might happen now that this is done. Pulling out if you gently, he sits up and looks towards the cheaters. “All your shit had been moved out of our houses to a storage unit. We’ll leave the keys, but you, especially you, Tommy-“ he growls, pointing his finger at the man. “Are not to come back tonight. Carol, you can come by and see the girls tomorrow. But you two enjoy the rooms.” He stands. “After we are dressed, I’ll untie you, Carol and you can untie Tommy after we’ve left.”
“You have no reason to come back to my house,” you say to Tommy, with a new found courage. “That’s why we drove your car. Don’t come back. I’ll see you in court with the video evidence of your cheating and your plans to fraudulently amend our prenuptial agreement.”
Dave ignores them as the two of you clean up and redress. Not even sparing them a glance. It feels freeing, setting out the papers and dropping the keys into a table before he smirks at you.
“Still ok to get a ride home?” You ask quietly, before he goes to untie Carol.
“Of course it’s okay, baby.” Dave stops and nods, giving you an encouraging smile before he moves back towards Carol.
You collect both yours and Dave’s things as he unties Carol, staying back just in case she decides to lunge at you. “Enjoy sleeping here tonight,” you say to Tommy, “This room will be the last thing I ever spend my money on you on. Sorry about the soaked sheets.” You add with a smirk.
Dave pulls off the gag and Carol sucks in a lungful of air. “Dave- Dave please, it’s not- I’m so sorry.” She sobs, leaping up out of the chair. “It was- God, I shouldn’t have done this.”
You see her leap towards Dave, and take another step back. “But you did,” you say quietly, “Both of you did this! For almost a year and the shit you said about us both, was worse than the fact you were fucking. You don’t deserve him and Tommy doesn’t deserve me.”
“I’m sorry Dave, I’m so sorry.” She reaches for him but he pulls back. 
“Don’t.” He warns her. “The day I found out you were fucking him was the day I was done with you.”
“Same with you,” you say to Tommy. “I mean it when I say that you’re not welcome in my home again.” Turning to face Dave, you reach your hand out for him to take, “You ready?”
“I’m ready,” he assures you, taking your hand and looking back at the other two people with a look of utter disdain for them plastered on his face. “I hope you two are happy together.”
You lead him out of the room. Hand tightly gripping his as you make your way to the elevators, and pressing the button. Wordlessly you turn to face him and rock up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his.
He’s surprised by the kiss but he doesn’t push you away. Instead, he’s wrapping his arms around you and leaning into it. Enjoying the fact that you aren’t crying like he had expected.
“I’m going to feel you for days,” you say against his lips, before pulling him for another kiss. Stepping into the thankfully empty elevator still attached to him, wanting to extend the moment for as long as you can.
“Do you-“ he pulls away and frowns. “The girls are at a sleepover and I told Kayla’s mom that Carol isn’t to pick them up. Do you want me to crash on your sofa? Make sure Tommy doesn’t decide to show up tonight?”
“Honestly, I was hoping you’d sleep in my bed,” you admit quietly, “But you don’t have to… if you’d prefer to crash on the sofa, you can.” 
“I wasn’t going to assume anything.” Dave chuckles quietly, reaching up and rubbing your back. “If you want me to be in your bed, I’ll sleep there.”
“I want you in my bed,” you say with a smile, “How are you feeling?”
“Indifferent.” He admits. “I’m angry for the girls, but I’m completely over Carol. Just cut the infection out and move on.” Maybe not the healthiest way to deal with things, but he managed. “How are you feeling?”
“Kids are super resilient and we both know that they love their Daddy, they’ll be okay.” You say with a squeeze of his hand, “I’m really good, great actually.”
“A good fucking will do that.” He teases, smirking at you slightly. “What are your plans for tomorrow night?” He asks suddenly.
“Yeah, I-uh-I could get used to that,” you mumble, “I’m free. How about you?”
“Well, considering I’m free and you’re free…” Dave shrugs slightly. “Thought I might take you out on a date. If you wanted. If not, I get it.”
“Sounds perfect,” you say with the biggest smile you’ve managed for weeks, “Do I get to wear something pretty?”
“Where whatever you want. Figured we’d go somewhere fancy to celebrate being free of them and decide what we want to do.” Dave hums.
“I like that, nice and breezy.” You say as he slips an arm around you as you make your way towards his car.
“To new beginnings, baby.” Dave jostles you slightly with a grin. “It’ll be ironic if we get together and are happy while they are miserable and don’t last a year.” He pulls his arm from around you and opens the door on the passenger side for you. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
“We will. Now that you and that incredible cock have completely ruined other men for me, I'm excited to see where it goes.” You giggle before thanking him for opening the door, “Thank you. To new beginnings.” You say as you smash your lips up against his.
Dave grins. Yes, your ex and his might have hurt you, but you are going to end up winning. He’ll make sure of it.
****
[A year later]
Life comes at you quickly. Your first date with Dave quickly became a 3rd, 4th and so on. The girls adapted quickly with their new changes and before you knew it, you were practically living with them.
He asked you to put your house up for sale and move in with him two months after your first date and a year on, life is perfect.
The sight of Dave napping comfortably on the sofa with your newborn son sleeping on his chest fills your heart. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so much more. 
It turns out that your ex-husband having an affair would be the best thing that ever happened to you.
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mingi-s-dimples · 2 months ago
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His love, a masterpiece in his eyes - Yeosang
KINKTOBER DAY 20, REQ. BY anon
~"Ateez Yeosang x Reader who self doubts. Please add squirting/ toys/ Yeosang using deepvoice/"
pairing: bf!yeosang x gf fem!reader
genre: 18+, soft smut
summary: You've been feeling insecure about... kinda everything, lately, and your sweet boyfriend decides to please you and show you just how much he loves you.
wc: 3.7k
warnings: mentions of body checking, mention of insecurities (remember to love yourself as you are ♡), use of toys, (vibrator), fingering, p in v, lots lots of praising, mirror sex duh, there's a slight slight the slightest hint of dom in yeosang *a speck*, i absolutely don't know what else I could add, unprotected (boo wrap up irl!), completely consensual, for sure forgot something, unedited might edit later.
Author's Note: Heyy guysss so this one is a little bit sad in the first part, the introductory part. Tho I absolutely love their dinamic ngl and he is def the person to praise tf out of you and for your pleasure. Enjoy ml! 💖 This fic is on the softer side btw.
Whoever feels down for whatever reason or insecurity that is bother you, please remember that you are your own person and everyone is left with oneself in the end. Cherish your body and mind to the fullest 🤍
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member.
It was a quiet afternoon. The soft hum of the wind blew through the slightly cracked window, carrying with it the crisp scent of fall. You sat cross-legged on the bed, your laptop open in front of you, textbooks scattered around, along with a haphazard assortment of notes, highlighters, and pens. You had been working on a particularly difficult assignment for hours now, the once-clear instructions now feeling like an incoherent jumble. The small ticking of the wall clock added to the already growing pressure in her chest.
The semester had been grueling so far—between lectures, exams, and papers, You barely had time to breathe. Today was supposed to be productive. Though, you could feel the beginnings of a familiar anxiety creeping up on you.
At first, it was just a small voice, a whisper of uncertainty.
"Maybe I’m not cut out for this."
You brushed it aside, trying to focus on the work. But the longer you stared at the assignments, the louder the voice grew, until it drowned out everything else. The once methodical clicking of your fingers on the keyboard slowed and eventually stopped. Shoulders slumped, and you let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back against the headboard.
“Why am I even trying?” you muttered to yourself. “I’ll never get it right.”
Your gaze shifted to the chaotic spread of materials around. There was a strange irony in the way the bed had started out as an organized workspace, but now it seemed to mirror your internal state: disarrayed, overwhelmed, and falling apart.
The spiral of thoughts that followed was inevitable. First, it was about your academic abilities. Maybe you weren’t smart enough for university, maybe you weren't disciplined enough, maybe you were just a fraud pretending to belong here. Then, like a wave crashing over, it expanded beyond school.
It wasn’t just your mind that wasn’t enough—it was your body too.
You stood from your bed, walking over to the mirror that hung on the back of the door. You hadn’t planned on looking at yourself. In fact, you avoided doing so on most days. But today, you couldn’t help it. You stared at the reflection, a lump forming in your throat as you scanned yourself from head to toe.
"Why can’t I just be… better?"
Your hands lightly grazed the stomach, then the thighs. The criticism in your mind was merciless. Every flaw seemed to be magnified in the mirror—every imperfection suddenly glaring and unforgiving. You weren’t just failing at school, you were failing at everything. Your body wasn’t the way you wanted it to be. You weren’t as put-together as everyone else seemed to be.
Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back, shaking your head as if it could stop the flow of self-doubt. Though, it didn't last long until you started sobbing, thinking what could've been better. What could you do to make things better?
Hours passed, though you couldn’t tell how much time had gone by. The day outside had shifted into evening, and the room was now bathed in the dim, golden glow of the sunset.
Just then, the familiar sound of keys jingling in the door echoed through the apartment. Yeosang was home from his classes. He had his late university lectures today, and he often stayed behind for extra work. Normally, you loved hearing him come home. He brought with him a calming presence that made you feel at ease, but right now, you weren’t sure how you’d explain the tears or the chaos that built up.
The door creaked open, and Yeosang’s voice, soft and warm, filled the apartment. “Y/N, I’m home!”
There was no response from you. You tried to wipe away the tears quickly, though the red and puffy eyes betrayed you.
“Y/N?” Yeosang stepped into the room, his gaze immediately landing on you. Concern etched across his face as he took in the sight of your tear-stained cheeks and the disheveled mess surrounding. He walked over to you quickly, his eyes full of worry. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You shook your head, avoiding his gaze. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
But Yeosang wasn’t one to be fooled by half-hearted reassurances. He knelt down in front of you, gently taking your hands into his. “You don’t have to hide from me,” he said softly. “I can see you’re not fine.”
You sighed shakily, the lump in your throat returning as you tried to explain. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this. School. Life. Everything feels like it’s falling apart. I don’t feel good enough.” voice cracked as you spoke, and the tears you had tried to hold back threatened to spill over again. “I feel like I’m failing. And… and I don’t even feel good in my own skin.”
Yeosang’s heart broke at your words. He reached up, gently cupping your tear-streaked face. His thumb brushed away the lingering wetness under your eyes. “Y/N, you are more than enough. You’re smart, you’re capable, and you’re doing so much more than you give yourself credit for.”
You looked at him, eyes searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you found was his genuine concern and affection. “I just don’t feel it. I don’t feel… enough.”
Yeosang moved beside you on the bed, wrapping his arms around, pulling you close to your head resting against his chest. “You are everything to me,” he whispered. “Do you know how amazing you are? You work so hard. You always push yourself, even when you’re feeling like this. That takes so much strength.”
His words were soft, comforting. Slowly, the tension in your body began to ease as you listened to him. “And as for not feeling good in your own skin… I think you’re perfect. Every part of you is beautiful to me.”
You lifted your head slightly, teary eyes meeting his. “You really think that?”
Yeosang replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You are beautiful, inside and out. And I love every bit of you.”
Your heart warmed at his words, the self-doubt that had consumed you earlier now fading into the background. You sniffled softly, hand resting on his chest as you looked at him.
“Thank you,” you whispered, voice barely above a breath.
Yeosang smiled gently, leaning down to kiss you softly. It was a tender, lingering kiss, filled with affection and reassurance. There was no rush, no need for words. His lips on yours conveyed everything he felt for you, and you kissed him back, feeling the love and warmth in every gentle movement.
When the two of you finally pulled apart, foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling, Yeosang’s voice was barely a whisper as he spoke.
“You’re enough, Y/N. You always will be.”
Yeosang’s hand remained at the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer, his touch grounding and tender. His eyes, dark with care, held yours as he leaned in again, his lips meeting yours with a warmth that felt like home. Every kiss seemed to melt away the doubts and insecurities you had just confessed, his steady presence calming the storm within.
"Do you know how much I admire you?" he whispered, his voice soft yet filled with conviction. "The way you keep going, the way you face everything—even when it feels impossible. You're more than you know."
His words sank deep, wrapping around your heart. You felt him take your hand and press it to his chest, right over the steady beat of his heart. "I need you to feel how real this is," he said, his thumb tracing small circles over your hand. "How much I love every part of you—inside and out."
With every touch, he seemed to be silently telling you, showing you how precious you were in his eyes. He moved his hand to the small of your back, pulling you close, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt seen, cherished, and beautiful in his gaze.
“Trust me,” he whispered, a soft smile playing on his lips. "There's no one else I want, no one else I need... just you.”
Yeosang's hands moved to your shoulders, his touch gentle yet full of purpose. His fingers grazed your collarbone, tracing a slow, reverent path as though he were memorizing every inch of you. His eyes roamed over your face, filled with a quiet awe that made your heart race.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he murmured, his voice like a soft caress. His hands slid down your arms, his thumbs brushing over your skin in soothing strokes. “Every part of you… I want you to see yourself the way I see you.”
He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of your jaw, his lips lingering as though he never wanted to let go. His fingers trailed down, resting on the curve of your waist, pulling you close. His kisses moved down to your shoulder, each one slow, deliberate, a whispered promise of his devotion.
As his fingers found the hem of your shirt, he paused, looking into your eyes for permission, his gaze soft and respectful. When you gave a slight nod, he gently lifted the fabric, his eyes never leaving yours as he revealed each inch of your skin. He took his time, as though he wanted to savor every moment, his hands gliding up your sides, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his hands moving slowly, reverently. His lips followed the path of his hands, pressing tender kisses along your shoulder and down your arm, his every touch filled with a quiet reverence. "Every inch of you is beautiful to me."
Yeosang’s hands continued to trace your skin as he whispered to you, his voice a soft and reverent murmur.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said, stepping back slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. He watched you with quiet admiration, his own breaths coming a little faster as he took in every part of you, clearly moved by the beauty he saw in you. With a gentle smile, he began to undress, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it fall away before his hands moved to his jeans. You noticed the hint of his own desire, a warm flush on his face. His now hard cock straining against the zipper of his jeans, a little wet spot forming right where the tip was, dripping with pre cum.
Your eyes met his, and you couldn’t help but smile, your voice soft but filled with longing. “I want you, Yeosang. I want to feel all of you,” you murmured, letting your words linger between you both.
He nodded, his gaze tender yet full of a deep affection as he finished undressing. As he moved back toward you, he paused for a moment, as if taking in the moment itself, letting himself fully appreciate the trust and connection you were sharing. With a gentle, steady hand, he guided himself over you, his body fitting perfectly against yours as he leaned down, his forehead resting against yours.
Then, with one slow, purposeful motion, he closed the distance between you, grounding you both in a quiet, shared rhythm. His hands travelled on your thighs, his eyes full of admiration, and as he was feeling you up, he never stopped whispering those soft reassurances, each word a reminder of how much you meant to him. It was a quiet, powerful closeness—an unspoken promise that he would be there, lifting you up in every moment.
“May I-?” he asked, voice deeper than you expected, but you loved that side of him. His deep, sultry voice always sent a shiver through you. You nodded, and his hand traveled lower on your legs. You were completely bare in front of him, your own arousal dripping on the bed. He took a deep breath before his kiss trailed off from your knees to your thighs, then to your inner thighs and to your lower belly, as close as possible to your cunt. He stopped for a moment, and looked into your eyes. “You're so pretty.. just like this.
His fingers moved with a steady, knowing rhythm, pushing deeper with just the right pressure that made every nerve come alive beneath his touch. The way he watched you, eyes dark and intense, sent another thrill through your body. His thumb found that sensitive spot, circling it slowly, building an ache that made you cling to him, helplessly following the pace he set. Each breath felt heavier, a deep, pulsing heat coiling tight inside you, desperate for release.
As his fingers moved faster, pressing deeper, he murmured low praises, his lips grazing your skin, heightening every sensation with words that made you feel cherished and desired. His voice was rich, a soft command and encouragement that pushed you higher. “That’s it, just like that,” he whispered, his tone coaxing and gentle, each word grounding you as he brought you closer and closer to that peak.
Finally, the pressure shattered, sending wave after wave of euphoria rushing through you, your whole body trembling with each pulse. He didn’t stop, keeping his touch firm and steady, easing you down slowly, drawing out every last bit of sensation until you felt like you were floating, entirely weightless in his hold.
As the tremors faded, he eased his fingers back with a gentleness that made you melt into the bed. His hand caressed your thigh, grounding you, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on your skin. He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss just above your heart, his gaze filled with a quiet adoration. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, his words a gentle echo that brought you back down, cradling you in the warmth of his presence. With each slow breath, you felt yourself relax, sinking into a calm afterglow, his hand never leaving you, holding you close, safe, and utterly cherished.
He kept his gaze locked on you, his eyes soft and full of reverence as he took in every inch of you, almost as if memorizing each detail. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his fingers tracing gentle lines down your arm, over your waist, and lingering where his touch had left its mark. "Every single part of you… absolutely breathtaking." His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, a reverent tone that left no doubt in your mind about how he saw you.
Leaning closer, he brushed a thumb over your cheek, his eyes searching yours before his lips met yours in a kiss, soft at first, like a silent promise. But as the kiss deepened, his hand slipped down to your back, pulling you flush against him. You felt the warmth and firmness of his body pressing close, and the tension between you both sparked alive again, a slow burn igniting into something more intense.
With a gentle shift, he eased himself forward, closing the distance completely. The moment he slid inside you, a low, deep moan escaped him, his voice raw and full of pleasure. The sound reverberated through his chest, pressing against you as he buried himself fully, his breath mingling with yours in the shared closeness. He stayed still, savoring the feeling, his forehead resting against yours as he breathed in deeply, grounding himself in the intimacy between you.
The warmth of his hands, the depth of his gaze—it all blended into one powerful connection, a quiet moment suspended in time. His fingers brushed tenderly along your spine as he murmured against your lips, "You’re… perfect." And as he began to move slowly, his body pressing closer with each motion, his words were a steady rhythm, a mix of praise and awe. Every movement, every whispered compliment became a shared heartbeat, drawing you into him, grounding you both in a moment that felt boundless and endlessly safe.
Yeosang’s rhythm was slow, deliberate, each thrust grounding you both in the moment, his hands firm and possessive on your hips, holding you close as his deep voice murmured soft praises against your skin. With each movement, he brought you to the edge, his quiet intensity a powerful force that left you clinging to him, savoring the way he filled every part of you.
Then he stilled, his breath warm against your shoulder as he pressed a kiss there. "I want you to see yourself… the way I see you," he whispered, his voice filled with reverence. Gently, he lifted you, his arms cradling you for a moment before he turned you over, guiding you onto your belly and positioning you so you were facing the mirror on the opposite side of the room.
With one hand on your lower back, he leaned over you, his chest grazing your spine as he slowly pressed into you again. His hand remained firm on your lower back, grounding you, while the other held your waist, pulling you closer so you could feel every inch of him. His movements were unhurried, each thrust deep and steady, designed to keep you connected, to let you feel the weight of his presence with every inch.
In the mirror, his gaze stayed locked on you, his expression one of awe as he took in the sight of you beneath him, every curve and line reflected back. His deep voice resonated through you, soft words spilling out as he praised the beauty he saw, the admiration clear in his tone. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his words sending a shiver down your spine as he pressed even closer, the fullness of his presence grounding you in the here and now.
He shifted slightly, angling his hips so that each movement brought him as deep as possible, his grip on your waist keeping you close, pulling you back to meet each thrust. His hand trailed over your lower back, anchoring you, his praise a steady rhythm in time with his movements. Watching you in the mirror, he let out a low, appreciative sound, his gaze never leaving the sight of you, wrapped in his embrace, vulnerable and cherished in a way that only he could make you feel.
As he moved within you, his rhythm slow and deep, you felt the heat rise in your cheeks, a soft flush spreading across your face as you glanced away, shy under the intensity of his gaze. Sensing your hesitation, Yeosang’s hand moved from your waist to your chin, his fingers gentle but firm as he tilted your face toward the mirror, guiding your gaze to meet his reflection.
“Don’t look away,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing, his eyes holding yours in the mirror. His thumb brushed tenderly along your jawline, his hand steady as he kept your face tilted, making sure you could see yourself exactly the way he did. “I want you to see what I see.”
He leaned over you, his lips grazing your ear as he spoke. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his words filled with quiet reverence. His gaze roamed over you, taking in every line and curve, admiration clear in the way he looked at you. “Your body… it’s perfect, exactly as it is,” he whispered, his hand returning to your waist, pulling you back against him so you could feel every inch of him, grounding you in his touch.
With each gentle thrust, he continued his praise, his deep voice resonating through you, filling you with warmth and reassurance. His hand on your chin slid down to rest on your shoulder, anchoring you as he held you close, his gaze never straying from yours in the mirror. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do,” he murmured, his tone a soft, steady reminder of how deeply he cherished every part of you.
With a few final, deep thrusts, Yeosang’s breathing grew heavier, his low, quiet moans filling the room as he buried himself completely within you. His hands tightened on your waist, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he rode out his high, each sound he made a low, reverent murmur in your ear. As the last wave passed through him, his movements slowed, gentle and lingering, savoring the closeness as he gradually stilled.
He stayed like that for a moment, holding you close, his hands grounding you as he caught his breath. Then, carefully, he lifted you up, his arms wrapped around you with a tenderness that made you feel cherished, entirely wrapped up in his embrace. Gently, he settled you in his lap, angling you so you could see the aftermath of his passion, the warmth of him still lingering as his arousal dripped from you.
With a quiet intensity in his gaze, he slowly spread your legs, his fingers gliding over your skin with a reverence that made your pulse quicken. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper as he held you close, guiding you to take in the view. “You’re a masterpiece,” he added, his words soft yet full of pride, his hands tender and steady as he let you see yourself through his eyes, appreciating every inch with a quiet awe that made the moment feel intimate and entirely yours.
With a gentle strength, Yeosang wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace, his warmth surrounding you completely. He held you close, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head as his hands ran soothingly over your back. After a moment, he scooped you up, cradling you against his chest, and carried you toward the bathroom, his gaze soft and full of care.
In the shower, he was attentive, his touch gentle as he helped you wash away the remnants of the night. His fingers combed through your hair, his hands moving with a tenderness that made you feel cherished. He stayed close, his quiet presence a comforting warmth as the water cascaded over both of you, easing away any lingering tension.
As the steam filled the space around you, you looked up at him, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice soft but sincere. “I love you, Yeosang.” Your hand reached up, brushing lightly along his cheek as you held his gaze. “I can’t be myself without you… I’m not complete without you.”
His eyes softened, and he pulled you close, resting his forehead against yours as a gentle smile spread across his face. “You’re everything to me,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. He held you like he never wanted to let go, his embrace grounding you as you stood there together, feeling whole, connected, and perfectly safe in each other’s arms.
NETWORKS:
@blossomnet
@illusionnet
PERMANENT TAGLIST:
@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @woolysium @memorabxlia @peachy-bell26
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clicksbuster · 2 years ago
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Ad Security: Safeguard Your Campaigns with ClickBuster - Don’t let fraudsters drain your advertising budget. With ClickBuster’s ad security features, you can identify and prevent fraudulent activity, ensuring that your campaigns reach their intended audience.
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lis-likes-fics · 8 months ago
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Cillian Murphy Masterlist
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Welcome to my Cillian Murphy masterlist! Here you’ll find every fic I have written for characters of Cillian Murphy. If you want to be added to my taglists, please click here so that you can tag yourself.
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Dark, Dirty Secrets*
A Deal’s a Deal*
A Deal’s a Deal* (2)
At the End of the Day*
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Let Me Show You the Light* (dark content)
Lab Rats* (dark content)
Shades of Red*
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Frauds* (dark content) (Jackson Rippner)
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kaznejis · 2 years ago
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Public display- Bucky Barnes x Reader
Part 1 - Public Affair 
Word Count- 6012
A/N- The support for Part 1 was honestly overwhelming- I did have initial plans for a part 2 though did not expect that many people to be interested! From me to you, enjoy this sequel packed with angst, fluff and action. Thank you ;) 
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Monaco, six months earlier. 
“Records state that our friend over at Hydra owns this hotel,” Natasha mumbled beside you, her head bowed low and red-waves loose beneath a wide sun hat; complimented by a long, strapless designer dress, as commissioned by Tony. The two of you were the staple of the average residents of Monte Carlo, having essentially raided every designer outlet in the area. High-end cars rumbled throughout the street as heiress after heiress graced the steps of the grand hotel before you. 
“I’m pretty sure he also owns three other hotels on this stretch.” you snorted, Squinting up at the large, stained-glass windows of the hotel; the click of heeled boots and the spray of dancing water created a mirage of noise around you. The area was the opitimy of money; whilst you had flown in on a private jet- once again, courtesy of Tony- you felt like a fraud, your disguise almost see-through to the ancient, traditional blood of manicures and snobbery surrounding you. 
“We suspect he’s funded the majority of the Hydra operations that have been appearing over the last couple of years,” Steve grumbled over the comms, the pant of his breath evident as he paused to speak, “If we can take him down- Hydra will have lost their biggest investor.” 
“It’s not an end to an all, but it’s definitely something,” Natasha replied; her voice a constant mumble beside you, ever playing the role of an undercover spy perfectly. Natasha remained the constant, solid force in missions; always watching your back, always giving her all. You found yourself constantly following her footsteps in more circumstances than one. Looking to her for guidance. 
“Me and Steve are nearing the South entrance,” Bucky’s voice rumbled through the comms, your other guiding force entering the picture. Bucky’s strength and resilience and love tended to bleed into you, etching your soul and adding even the slightest element of care to every move you make. Every punch, every throw, every beating- Bucky was ever prevalent in your mind. He had gripped your hands and face and waist in the privacy of the back of Tony’s jet- inhaling your scent and ingraining it into his memory as he had told you to be strong, be safe, be vigilant. Adoring, you had stared up at him; cradled his metal hand and nodded along- forcing him to vow that he would do the same as he implored you to do, “Everybody stick to the original plan- Y/N and Nat; you can advance to the front desk.” 
Moving instantly, the two of you began to climb the steps to the entrance; feigning the image of two friends chattering, enjoying their holiday or returning from an early lunch. It didn’t matter what image you could create, as long as it was believed. Upon reaching the entrance, the doormen smiled at you, bowing graciously as they presented the open doors of the hotel’s entrance. 
“Easily done,” You gritted out behind a grin, bowing your head thankfully towards the men, “Go to the reception and get as much intel as you can; I’m going up to the penthouse.” 
“Y/N, are you sure?” Natasha turned to you then, her own saccharine smile gracing her features though her eyes remained down-turned with worry, “We can skip the intel and go together, take him down fast.” 
Vehemently, you shook your head, grasping her hand and pleading with your eyes, “We need that proof Nat, without records we’ll have nothing but a suspicious murder to show for this mission- we need to know what the income for this place is being turned over towards.” 
Natasha nodded reluctantly, “Be careful, okay?” her eyes closed for a moment as she allowed herself a breath before she departed from you, not allowing a second look as she strutted towards the desk where an unknowing, young male attendant awaited her. The perfect target. You set off towards the hotel’s corridors instantly, signs displaying a large quantity of numbers and different suite types directed the way as you explored the quiet corridors; the click of your heels the only sound present. 
As you turned a corner on the second floor; two familiar figures jogged from the other end of the hallway. Smirking, you bowed your head- your own sunhat creating a guise over your features as you headed towards them. “Miss, miss?” Steve panted, slowing as him and Bucky reached you, “We recommend that you vacate this hallway there is a-” 
You raised your head then, an eyebrow raised as you revealed yourself to the two, “Am I really that unrecognisable?” 
As Steve stuttered, Bucky smirked as he approached your side- wrapping the metal arm around your waist and planting a kiss at the side of your face, to which Steve rolled his eyes and turned away, “Of course not Doll- Steve’s just in ‘Cap Mode’” 
“Speaking of which.” Steve raised an eyebrow, moving to continue his pursuit. 
“Of course,” Bucky mused, beginning to depart only to return to your side and lean towards your ear, “That dress looks amazing on you by the way, Doll.” He replicated your initial smirk, jogging backwards and throwing you a wink before turning to follow behind Steve- who had already disappeared around the hallways corner. You continued on your own departure then, affording him a final smile before continuing your climb towards the penthouse. 
One foot in front of the other, over and over as you trailed the extensive halls of the hotel. 
-
For the room regularly occupied as a safe house for one of Hydra’s most powerful assailants, the lock was surprisingly easy to crack. The twist of a hairpin and the slightest pressure did the job- the lock clicking as the door swayed, its brass hinges squeaking abrasively, the sound loud and grating in the silence of the hallway. 
“I’m entering the lair,” you whispered into comms, loud enough for it to be heard throughout the ear pieces though quiet enough to deter detection from outside sources. A quick scan of the room told you that it was empty, though recently occupied- half-drank bottles of alcohol and cigarette stumps littered the table, complemented by the clothes strewn across the floor, “Give me five minutes.” 
“Be careful, Y/N,” Steve replied, “Nat’s got the intel, we’re a few blocks from the hotel and all civilians have been cleared from the nearby areas. Tony has got eyes on the penthouse from above- see you in five.” 
Double clicking the button attached to your ear piece- you affirmed that you had heard Steve’s words; silently confirming the start of your undercover exercise. Bypassing the mess within the entrance- you turned instantly to left; the plans that you had covered extensively highlighted that the office was to the left; gather evidence, wait for the suspect, kill the suspect, escape. It was a simple plan with simple steps- an exercise you’d done countless times, you could practically do this with your eyes closed. 
The gathering of evidence was the easiest step- a range of highly confidential material lay open across the large mahogany desk within the office; letters, invoices, even bills for the hotel itself. Within no time you had snapped pictures of the most interesting aspects, though not before a piece of paper caught your eye. It was at the corner of the large pile of letters; sticking out almost intentionally, as if asking to be found. Pulling it from the pile, your heart dropped instantly as the words before you became clear. 
H,
The Avengers, America’s greatest heroes, have finally turned to you as their target. Their plan will be ever-predictable; the one feeling the most boisterous and courageous will most likely volunteer themselves to be sent up to your penthouse during one of your annual stays as the others split off into teams. A strategy that would work, if you didn’t have my intel on your side. Ensure that the area is cleared and that the evidence is obvious. Make it too easy for them. 
I hope you will repay me for the assistance. 
It was a trap. It had all been a trap, and you had fallen directly into it. 
“Were you never taught not to snoop through someone else’s belongings?” A gruff voice sounded behind you, the click of a gun’s safety being turned off immediately following. 
“What is this?” you gritted out, hands raised beside your head as you stared determinedly at the desk, “Who did this?” 
“That’s none of your business, Sweetheart,” the man spoke, his tone laced with confidence, “Now- let’s do this the easy way, shall we? You’re going to come with me, tell me a little bit about this whole operation of yours and then we kill you. Understand?” 
You turned then, hands still raised in the air as you refused to show any signs of fear towards the man- he stumbled slightly at your movement, the gun in his hand wavering as he was shocked at your own confidence as you looked the man directly in the eye; face impassive as ever. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.” You gave the man no time to think as you immediately fell to your knees, rolling in between the man’s legs and slicing a cut into his thigh with the knife concealed into the thin sleeves of your dress, “All I can tell you about this operation, is that I’m here to kill you.” 
“Well we can’t have that, can we?” The man turned instantly, firing two shots towards your legs; the sound of the bullets deafening at such close range- your trained, meticulous instincts only allowing you a split second to roll away- the momentum allowing you to unholster a gun at your thigh-holster. You stood instantly, the gun poised precisely between your hands as you aimed it at him. You clicked off the safety, aiming the gun and- 
“Doll? Doll, were those gunshots you?” Bucky’s voice sounded through the comms, his voice tinged with worry- the plan had been to execute a clean, quiet kill; knife, poison, brute force. A gunshot did not come under the category of clean, quiet kill, setting off the alarms instantly, “Doll, we’re coming up there please answer me, please let-” 
The falter you had offered at the sound of Bucky’s voice caused you to pause for too long, within no time the man had bowled into you, slamming your back into the wall and ripping the earpiece from your ear, dropping it to the ground and instantly crushing it beneath his boot. Shit. 
“Now, we’re not going to do anymore playing around,” He growled into your face, his breath hot with anger against your cheeks and his arm barring you against the wall as you squirmed, “No more secret weapons, no more dancing around.” As he spoke, an entourage of armed men entered the room, an array of red pointers displayed against your chest. As the men entered, an explosion sounded nearby. 
Tony, they had taken Tony down. The Iron Man had survived worse, of course- but there was little the team would be able to do for you now. You were grossly outnumbered. As panic began to numb your senses; the worry clouding your eyesight- the butt of a gun connected with your forehead; effectively knocking you out. 
-
Three days, three days you were locked up in that basement. Another safe house, another dingy and dilapidated building occupied by the Hydra informants. Blood had dripped into your eyes as you hung from the wall- arms encased by chains and your lifeline hanging by a thread. 
“Your little boyfriend isn’t coming to save you.” They had spat, phlegm splattering against your cheeks as they had laughed- laughed at the so-called ‘Avenger’ that they had tricked so easily. You hadn’t blamed them- you had felt foolish, like the naive child you had once been; too excited by a chance at finery, revenge. Vengeance for Bucky and Steve. It was only in the darkness of what could’ve been night, as evidenced by the lack of torture you were given during those hours, that you allowed yourself to cry. Cursing yourself and your stupidity. 
You had wanted nothing but Bucky in those moments. Nothing but the intertwine of your legs under cold sheets and the tickle of his stubble against your skin; the giggles that it would garner from you as you begged him to stop. Every moment, every breath was spent thinking of Bucky. It was only when the sound of gunfire and a door crashing above you sounded that you felt like yourself again- the sound of familiar boots against the stone floor and the harsh grip against your face, the look in Bucky’s eyes as you had looked back at him- the relief crumpling his face as he sobbed, his grip on your face never loosening. 
Something changed then, between the two of you. It became real, the knot forming between you solidifying. It felt like forever. 
-
New York, Present day
“You kids really do think that I just have an unlimited sum of money, huh?” Tony mused from the kitchen counter, stirring himself a cup of coffee early in the morning, “I just held a huge charity gala, which was a success by the way, no thanks to you two.” 
“That’s because you do, Tony,” You gritted out, your fists clenched beneath the dining table, anger and determination fuelling you, “I need you to host a press conference, I need-” Bucky gripped your clenched fist beneath the table, uncurling it and intertwining his fingers with yours, his gaze sincere as he nodded comfortingly, you took a deep breath, “She tried to ruin our lives, Tony. We need to expose her, we need to do something.” 
Tony sighed, pausing midway as he raised the cup to his mouth, his gaze mirroring Bucky’s as he watched you from across the room, “Fine, kid. I’ll book you a room, reach out to a couple of my contacts. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you,” You nodded, your eyes teary as you smiled at Tony before turning to Bucky; his gaze remaining a solid force as he watched over you, continuing to grip your hand. 
“It’s gonna go fine, Doll,” He assured, dragging your hand with him as he moved to settle back in his seat. He was almost a mirror of that night in the kitchen- all sleep-tousled hair and his crumpled pyjama shirt; the evidence of the lines of a pillow still prevalent within his cheeks. The two of you had spent every second together since your conversation in that hallway, and the night that followed. His gaze a constant presence beside you as you worked out what to do, how to garner adequate revenge against those that had wronged you. 
The presence of those days in Monaco had always lingered at the back of your mind, and you assumed Bucky’s too. Whilst the team had managed to take out the army of men within the safe house you had been held captive at; your initial attacker, the Hydra informant- had escaped.
The reveal of a potential informant within the Avengers too shook the team- many outside of the Avengers itself refused to believe you, refused to take it further and potentially expose one of their own; one of the people that they worked alongside every day. 
You couldn’t blame them- though the failure to reach justice left you feeling empty, wronged. You had survived days of torture- only to be saved, returned and expected to let everything go back to normal. To scrub the blood from beneath your fingernails and climb the quinjet, onto the next operation. The events of the PR relationship and the lies that unfolded caused these thoughts to re-emerge; thoughts that had been submerged by training in the gym and the crinkles beside Bucky’s eyes. 
You felt like a pawn- a chess piece in the game of the rich and powerful. Orchestrated and trained to be used. 
During the days leading up to the conference, Bucky was a constant presence beside you- a hand on your back, fingers intertwined, a kiss to the side of your hair- it was almost like he was afraid to let go, afraid that the relationship posed before the public eye was all too real; that it truly had meant something. Despite it meaning nothing.
You had told him as such, a hand smoothing back his hair as you sat cross-legged on your bed, “The whole time I was thinking of you.” You had smiled, your cheeks warming as he cocked his head to the side, a chuffing sound escaping from his mouth as he allowed himself to breathe. 
“Me too, Doll,” He pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he inhaled your scent, his face pressed to your hair, “I’m sorry everything got so twisted-”
“No, no. It wasn’t your fault.” 
“Doll,”  He smiled sadly, those beautiful crinkles at the side of his eyes forming, “I should’ve known, I’ve run into a number of problems with those public representations executives- I should’ve known.” He nodded as he spoke, wholly convinced that this was his doing, not theirs. 
“I promise you, Buck. This wasn’t your fault and I will assure you of that until the day I die,” You vowed, your voice harsh with the iron-clad anger within, “But before I can show you- we have to take them down.” 
“I’ll be there, Doll, right behind you on that stage. If you need me to step in I will. I will be there.” 
Words wouldn’t have sufficiently amounted to display your awe of him, your love, the way you wanted him by your side forever- so, with your hands on his cheeks, you pulled him in- pressing your lips to his and pouring every words that you had never said to him into the kiss; smiling against his lips as he reciprocated, brushing a hand to the back of your neck and gripping- pulling you into his lap as you laughed into his mouth, lips never departing. 
In a way, that moment of reprieve; of love, prepared you for what was to come. 
-
The constant static of the Avengers tower surrounded you and raised the ends of your hair as you traipsed the hallway- the day of the conference. Your speech was written and had been studied meticulously, your words at their harshest- inflicting every cruel feeling that had been inflicted upon you, not just in the past week but during your time in the Avengers. The ever-watchful eyes, the unwanted criticisms, the ignorance and the altruism regarding yourself as a living, breathing human being. 
The people had never truly cared, they never would. But exposing their malice and manipulation would provide you with the revenge you deserved. The revenge you all deserved. 
The sound of heels clicking hastily caused you to pause, halting in your tracks as the footsteps were aimed purposefully in your direction, though before you could turn and face the intruder, a shrill voice sounded, “So, this is your big plan, huh?” Sophia, her once bouncy curls now reduced to an unruly hairstyle as she had evidently not stopped to allow the time for a meticulous hair routine that morning- her own actions were catching up already, even without the extent of her crimes being exposed, “Expose me?” She continued, reaching you finally as she waved her hands in her face- her nails raw, bitten down to their nail beds, “I was doing what was best for you-”
“You almost ruined my life!” You snapped, hair flying as you swung around to glare right back at her- your tone severe as you advanced, “I almost lost the love of my life because of your lies. And for what? A bit of money, fame.”
“You could do so much more, Y/N” Sophia shook her head, tone condescending but almost sympathetic as she widened her eyes at you, “You could be the biggest celebrity on the planet- we almost got there but you had to ‘fall in love’ with that-”
“Don’t even go there, Sophia.” You shook your head before repeating yourself, “You almost ruined my life- so I’m hitting the nail in the coffin for yours. What was it you said, me going public with Bucky would be ‘career suicide’?” 
“You’re going to regret this, Y/N.” She yelled after you, a cliche statement- though out of character for a simple representative like Sophia. The statement caused you to pause upon turning the corner towards the conference room- check the stability of the gun beneath your shirt and the knife stored in the boot of your shoe. 
“What’s up, Doll?” Bucky’s voice called from beside the door to the conference room- leaning up against the wall, one leg cocked before him as he stood in a full embellished suit and tie. Grinning, you shook your head, stopping in front of him to adjust his tie and smooth back his hair, “It’s gonna go great,” He nodded, his head tilting as he followed your ministrations against him, “You’re gonna take those bastards down, yeah?”
Nodding, you continued to grin at him, standing back to appraise his figure, “It’s going to go great.” You affirmed, accepting his hand as he led you towards the door. 
“Everyone’s here, a little scattered around but I’m sure you’ll get a chance to see everyone afterwards,” Bucky pushed the large doors as he spoke, the grip on your hand moving to lay on your back as he pushed you into the room. Cameras instantly begun to flash in your face, Tony’s influence already attracting the attention of the press as they yelled questions at you and demanded answers, “Everything will be answered shortly,” Bucky nodded at each individual absently, leading you through the crowd towards the selection of seating occupied by a number of Avengers. 
Wanda instantly vacated her seat and jogged to you, as much as her heels could allow, pulling you into a comforting embrace as she effectively stole you from Bucky, “You’ve got this Y/N,” she pulled back to grip your shoulders, squeezing as her bright eyes shone towards you, “Bring them down.” 
“Thank you, Wanda,” you smiled, turning to the rest of the group you watched as each member gave their own affirmations, the love you felt almost overpowering as you smiled and nodded tearfully at each Avenger- exchanging hugs and touches as each person moved to reassure you. As always, Bucky remained an ever-present figure within your peripheral- standing to the side and allowing you your moment as you made your way through each Avenger. 
Eventually, once the tears and the laughter had sufficed, you turned to Bucky. 
“Good luck,” He smiled, his eyes glazed over and gaze piercing in that way it always was as he stared down at you- a hand moving to brush the hair from your forehead and the tear tracks from your cheeks as he gave his final blessing. With one final nod, you turned- climbing the steps towards the raised platform as you took in the sheer amount of people present within the room. Not only had the entire Avengers team arrived, but the majority of Stark’s Enterprise itself had too, alongside a swarm of reporters each carrying their own equipment and abrasive opinions. Sophia sat in the very front and centre- her gaze severe as she glared up at you, awaiting her own demise and preparing an escape as a bag lay secured and ready to grab beside her chair. You could only nod at her, maturity remaining the bargaining factor as you reached the microphone, cleared your throat and arranged the papers before you. 
Bucky smiled up at you, an encouraging nod all you needed to begin. 
“I’d like to begin by thanking you all for coming today. I would like to recognise that this conference may be detrimental to many though it is necessary. Necessary for the so-called progression of the Avengers that you all vouch for, yet fail to accomplish,” taking a moment to pause, you surveyed the crowd- each member stunned into awaiting silence as they stared up at you, your next move a vital one, “During my experience within the Avengers- my accomplishments have been diminished to nothing but monetary value and publicity. I didn’t join the Avengers to be moulded into this, this object that you can flaunt at my expense. These feelings came to ahead when I was recently involved in a PR public relationship,” a sudden entourage of camera flashes begun, this is what they had been waiting for, “My relationship with John Walker was entirely organised by the Avengers’ Public Representations Department- my role as an idol to many young people was reduced to the latest on the front page of hundreds of tabloids.”
You turned then, a projector lowering behind you as you grabbed its remote, “I would like to present you with evidence of falsified documents within this department- majorly regarding my own real relationship with,” you paused, turning your gaze to Bucky, he nodded, “fellow Avenger, James Barnes.” 
Gasps could be heard throughout the room as an uproar instantly began at the sound of Bucky’s names- questions, shouts or simply looks of shock were directed your way as you stared stone-faced into the crowd. To the side, Bucky was grinning- head-bowed and chuckling as the Avengers surrounding him held their own grins. Finally.
As the uproar died down at your own lack of response, you clicked the button on your remote- displaying a picture of the document Bucky had been forced to sign with a side-by-side comparison of the one you had signed. Refusal stilled you, refusal to look back and see the contract that had almost destroyed your relationship- tied chains around the sincere love you felt and locked you in place, on display to the ever watchful eyes of the public.  
Instead, you continued to watch the audience- see their own individual reactions as the lives of those around them came crashing down. Your eyes turned to Sophia then, still seated and cross-legged in front and centre. You expected her eyes to be shining, regret spoiling her features as she would attempt to make an escape from the room, bag clutched and unruly hair flying as she would flee. 
Her face held a different tune. 
She was grinning, her pearly-teeth shining as her eyes flickered between you and the screen- her cheeks twitched as if she was holding in a laugh. Her reaction led you to turn to other members of the crowd, who’s faces sung a distinctly different chord.
Horror. 
They looked horrified. 
Tony stood then, his chair flying backwards as he barked orders to Friday, “Turn this off, stop the broadcast Friday. Who the hell did this? Get whoever did this out of my system!”
“What-” you mumbled to yourself, gripping the stand before you as you turned, confused as to how pictures of a contract had caused such a spectacle. 
The pictures of the contract you had edited together and annotated were not displayed upon the screen. Instead, it was a video. You breath sped as you saw what you were watching, your own horror poisoning the breaths in your throat and weakening your knees. Front and centre, the focal point of the video was you. 
You from six months ago in Monaco. It was a video of you hanging from the wall; body binded with chains as your face was covered in blood and dark bruises prominent on every inch of your skin. The blood that had clouded your vision could be seen from an outsider's perspective here- oozing from a gash on your forehead and filling your eyes, painting your eyelids red and glueing them together. 
Struggling to breathe, you couldn’t tear your eyes away- you could only watch as your breaths hitched, the fight kicked out of you as you simply hung there. The men that had beaten you were not present in the video, though it was very obviously almost-immediately after one had taken place, your wounds were fresh, too fresh. 
“Y/N? Y/N, you need to look away from that for me, okay?” A voice sounded behind you, pleading  in its timbre, familiar and comforting as a hand attempted to turn your face, “We’re doing everything we can to get it off, Steve and the team are getting everyone out but I need you to look-” before the voice could continue its begging, a ear-piercing eruption sounded throughout the room. The walls of the conference room and the projector itself bowing inwards- the heat scouring your skin as the voice from before pushed you down and shielded you with their form. 
You could only look at the figure, who turned out to be Bucky, in shock as he knelt over you; the ringing in your ears violent as he pulled you up, yelling at you to run and dragging you from the room. The rush of open wind pulled you from the depths as you entered the adjacent hallway, the side of the building entirely open due to the explosion- “What is going on?” You cried, gripping Bucky’s hand as the two of you rushed to the nearby stairwell. 
“I think they’re back Doll,” Bucky turned to you as you entered the safety of the stairway, “We need to get as far away from here as possible- if that video tells us anything, they are back for you.” 
“Sophia,” you whispered, your eyes wide as you reached a conclusion, gripping Bucky’s arm as you pulled to a stop, “Oh my god, Buck, Sophia!”
“No, Y/N, we can’t go back-”
“No, no. The informant, Buck. The person that warned Hydra, it was her,” your brain sped erratically, remembering the grin she had given you as the video had begun to play, the threats to your life, “She warned Hydra, we have to stop her.”
Bucky opened his mouth, a reply forming- but before he could speak, a jolt of electricity passed through your fingers as the volt was directed into his back. You could only watch as the man you loved collapsed before you, “Well, aren’t you smart,” Sophia’s voice grated from behind him, her heels clicking as she continued towards you, “I told you that you would regret trying to ruin my life, so here we are.”
You spared her the honour of a reply, instead opting to jump at her, kicking the baton from her hands and pinning her to the ground, “You are finished, Sophia.” 
“No, she’ll be just fine,” another voice piped up from lower down the stairway, that same gruff voice from Monaco. He was here, “You could join her, Y/N. Live under my care and provide me with a bit of intel every now and then- you would be ridiculous to reject such an offer.”
“Well then I guess I am,” You spat, within a split second you had raised yourself from your crouched position, effectively lifting Sophia by the shoulders and slamming her head into the ground, knocking her out cold. The man was visibly displeased with your decision as evidenced by his change in stance as he instantly stormed up the stairs towards you, hoisting himself over the railings and engaging you in combat. You had trained for this, the long, winding months of your recovery were fuelled by the focus of sparring in the gym. You fought back swiftly, your movements precise as you delivered a kick to his gut and a clip across his jaw in quick succession. 
“Someone’s been working on their fighting,” He mused, using the distraction of your reply as a chance to grab you by the hair, spinning you in place and pinning you against the wall, “But you’ll still be the little rabbit I saw in that basement. 
“Go to hell,” You snapped, jabbing an elbow backwards and using your other hand to unholster the gun from beneath your shirt. Reversing the roles between you two, you watched as he cowered against the bannister, visibly unprepared for you to have hidden a gun within your formal outfit; not suitable for combat whatsoever. You faltered, considering simply handing him over to the police- instilling justice in its traditional form. 
But then you thought about the root of the operation, the torture that you and Bucky faced at the hands of Hydra- at the disgusting men that resided within the walls of those hydra bases. You instantly delivered a shot to his head, the bullet pinging against the metal of the stairway behind him as it tore clean through his skull. 
Wasting no time, you rushed over to Bucky’s pliant figure, sprawled on the ground as his body hitched with electricity every handful of moments, though he seemed to be coming back to consciousness; the speed of his super soldier healing and the bang of the gun pulling him back to consciousness, “Bucky, Buck. I need you to wake up.” You shook him, cradling the back of his head in your palm as you awaited a response. Sophia lay, similarly knocked out behind you, her mouth slack and blood leaking from her ears as she lay there. She would face the traditional methods of justice- handed over to the authorities for her attacks and barred from society for her infiltration. 
A groan sounding below you pulled your eyesight back to Bucky, stroking the sides of his face as he opened his eyes groggily- squinting in the light of the stairway, “Your face, Doll.” he mumbled; making you aware of the blood dripping from your potentially broken nose and the swelling of your eyes.
“You should see the other guy,” you laughed, gesturing to the bodies behind you, “Literally.”
“Shit, Doll.” Bucky swore, rubbing at his side as he hoisted himself upwards into a seated position, “We need to get out of here.”
“Wait, we need-” sighing, you closed your eyes briefly, gesturing to Sophia behind you, “We need to get her out of here; hand her over to the authorities the right way. She needs to be interrogated, find out what she know.” 
Bucky nodded, his face grim as he pulled himself to stand, with the support of your arm, aiding you in lifting Sophia up and limping together as you carried her from the scene- the beams of the destroyed hallway creaking with each step- the building beginning to fall apart above you. 
Once the situation was explained, with Sophia and a handful of armed men being escorted from the scene into an entourage of police vans. Bucky returned to your side, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you into a kiss and gripping at your sides, careful in avoiding your sore spots. 
“I’m so glad you’re okay Doll,” he nodded sincerely, his eyebrows scrunched as he stared down at you, “I was so scared I was gonna wake up to you gone again.” 
Shaking your head, you pulled Bucky into another kiss- threading your fingers through his hair and caressing the base of his scalp, “You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”
As you embraced, you turned to watch the scene before you- firetrucks extinguished the fires erupting from the explosion; hoards of employees stood aimlessly, simply staring up at their place of work, now diminished to ruins and rubble. Steve and Natasha were helping injured civilians find help whilst others kept the crowds away from the damage. Most amusingly, Tony stood only a few feet away from you and Bucky, simply staring up at the building; hands on hips and lost in thought. 
“Buck, we’re gonna have a shit-ton of paperwork to fill out.” 
-
AMERICA’S NEW FAVOURITE COUPLE
Shocking events have arose at the recent Avenger’s conference as Y/N L/N revealed that her relationship with John Walker was indeed fake and instead she is in a long-term relationship with fellow Avenger, James Barnes. Our reporters watched in shock as Y/N revealed this- though, me personally? I knew it all along! Count me as your most trusted source in celebrity love lives- I’ve never been wrong!
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forsetti · 6 months ago
Text
On Political Responsibilities: Put Up Or Shut The Fuck Up
As easily predictable as “The sun will set in the West,” a whole lot of Democrats are ONCE AGAIN falling for Republican propaganda and scurrying around like frightened little bunnies. This time it is about “Biden’s age.”
They should realize this is nothing more than a Republican ploy to sow discord among Dems and tamp down voter enthusiasm. This means either they are not very bright and their political hot takes should be completely ignored or they do realize but play along and parrot right-wing talking points either for attention or money, which really means they should be completely ignored.
Is President Biden old? Yes. Does it matter? As long as he has been and continues to do a good job pushing progressive policies it shouldn’t. When my maternal grandfather passed away at 91, he was still physically active, mentally sound, and able to do intricate, complex tasks. Because Pres. Biden had one bad debate (which is, no pun intended, debatable,) that doesn’t/shouldn’t mean a damn thing unless you are a frightened little bunny.
The right has been pushing, “Biden is too old,” since the 2020 election. They’ve also been pushing, “Biden is the head of a complex, international crime family who uses the Deep State and Dept. of Justice to do his bidding.” If you don’t see the logical problems between these two views, you are part of the problem and really shouldn’t be throwing out your political opinions like they are pearls of wisdom from on high.
Of course, it hasn’t only been the right pushing the “Biden is too old,” claim. The Far Left, especially the white far left, have been doing the same because they are still upset about Biden, with the help of black voters, kicking Bernie Sanders’ ass in the South Carolina primary and going on to curb stomp him on Super Tuesday. It doesn’t matter that Sanders is a year older than Pres. Biden to the far left. All that matters is doing damage to the person who beat their candidate of choice.* (*see also Hillary Clinton and the 2016 election.)
The media loves the “Biden is too old,” nonsense because it allows them to attack the president while hiding behind, “many people from both parties say….” However, the real reason they love it and push it nonstop is because it generates views/clicks which sells ads which generates profits. Any political race, especially one with national implications that is one-sided doesn’t get eyeballs on screens. If Pres. Biden was leading by 10 points, which in any sane country he would be, the race is all but over and no one is going to tune into media outlets for their “analysis” of the race. Any for-profit enterprise that relies on viewers HAS TO HAVE a horse race. The owners of these companies know this. The programmers know this. The hosts know this. The guests know this. It seems the only people who don’t know this are the frightened little bunnies on the left who flee to their holes any time someone in the media says something they don’t like or fear might be true.
All you have to do is look at the number of media outlets and talking heads who have pushed the idea that Biden needs to step aside because he “looked bad on television one time,” but not a single one of them has demanded the same of Trump for any of the legitimate bullshit he’s done. Just his role on Jan 6th should make him a toxic candidate, let alone his being found guilty of sexual assault, 34 felony convictions of fraud, and taking, lying about, and refusing to return highly classified documents after leaving the White House. Any one of these actions should be a reason to question and demand he step down as a candidate. Yet, NOT ONCE, has this happened in the media. That’s because they NEED Trump for horse races because it brings in money.
Just look at the post-debate analysis from the media who were intently focused on Biden’s speech patterns, how he looked, and how he sounded (all optics,) while completely ignoring what he said and the massive totality of Trump’s lies (all factual things.)
All of this “Optics Police” analysis has given rise to the whole “Biden needs to step aside,” idiot hot take.
When someone in the media says something like, “Pres. Biden needs to step aside,” a whole lot of Dems clutch their pearls with both hands and run to their fainting couch as fast as they can while screaming, “Pres. Biden needs to step aside!” because they are frightened little bunnies who have a compulsive need to parrot anything negative about their party and candidates, regardless of the source.
They are so afraid of losing elections that they do everything in their power to make sure elections are lost.
Let’s talk about the idea of Pres. Biden stepping aside. It is a remarkably stupid idea from remarkably stupid people. There is a reason the right has been pushing “Biden is too old,” “Biden is a criminal,” and “Biden cheated to win in 2016.” It is the very same reason Trump asked Zelensky to just lie about Biden being under investigation in Ukraine in 2016. Biden is the NUMBER ONE THREAT to Trump getting reelected. If the right believes Pres. Biden is the biggest threat to Trump, why in the fuck would replacing him on the ticket be the smart move? It wouldn’t.
I’ve read all the reasons for why Biden should step aside. They are all devoid of any logic, a basic understanding of U.S. elections, or American political history.
The latest reason for him to step aside is by comparing him to Ruth Bader Ginsburg and using her death and subsequent appointment of a right-wing hack, Amy Coney Barrett, to the Supreme Court. The same people on the left demanding Pres. Biden step aside are the same ones who blamed RBG for allowing Trump to appoint another conservative justice to SCOTUS.
It wasn’t RBG’s responsibility to prevent Trump from appointing a conservative justice. That responsibility was on Democratic voters in 2016 and they failed to live up to it. Don’t blame RBG for Amy Coney Barrett. Blame everyone on the left who decided to sit out the 2016 election or who voted third-party. They are the reason Trump was in a position to appoint three Supreme Court justices. While RBG was working hard to protect progressive ideals and rights, the people bitching about her not retiring were not doing a damn thing to help her.
It’s not like the far left wasn’t warned about the potential damage a Trump presidency would have, especially with regard to SCOTUS. They were, vehemently. Their response to being warned about what could/would happen to the Supreme Court if Trump won was, “Go fuck yourself. How dare you use the threat of years of progressive policies and rights being taken away to get my vote.”
These were the same people who now are screaming about how horrible the Supreme Court is hurting years of progressive policies and rights being taken away and blaming anybody and everybody other than themselves. They are the ones blaming Pres. Biden for not protecting Roe (something he has/had no way of doing.) They are the ones blaming RBG for not retiring (something that would not have made a difference because, even if she was replaced with another liberal justice, the Court would still be 5-4 in favor of conservatives and there was a good chance her replacement would not have been given a hearing and her seat left open ala Merrick Garland.)
The reason we have a 6-3 conservative Supreme Court is too many people on the left thought it was a good idea to not vote for Hillary Clinton in 2016. That’s it. Full...fucking...stop.
Many of the same people on the left who didn’t take the makeup of the Supreme Court seriously in 2016 are the very same people now demanding Pres. Biden step aside. Sorry, we are in this mess largely because of the horrible ideas and actions of these people. Why on earth should they be taken seriously now? They shouldn’t.
There is no “magic bullet,” to prevent Trump from being reelected. There isn’t some magical candidate out there, waiting in the wings for Pres. Biden to step aside so they can swoop in and save the day. There is Pres. Biden and VP Harris. That is it. It doesn’t matter if that is who you want. It doesn’t matter if you are upset about this or that policy or action. It doesn’t matter if Pres. Biden is 81, 61, or 91. What matters is winning the 2024 presidential election. That’s it. If/when that happens, then you can bitch and whine about not getting your dragon-unicorn hybrid in the exact color you want.
Do your fucking civic duty and vote for the candidate who will do the most good, the least harm to the people and policies you love. In the upcoming election, that choice will be, whether you like it or not, and you don’t fucking have to like it, is between Pres. Biden and Donald Trump. Either put up and do the right thing or shut the fuck up, now and forever about the state of politics in America.
A couple of days ago, Charlie Pierce from “Esquire,” tweeted this gem from Tbogg (one of my favorite old-timey bloggers.) It perfectly sums up exactly how a lot of people on the left view voting and my response to them.
"Every year in Happy Gumdrop Fairy-Tale Land all of the sprites and elves and woodland creatures gather together to pick the Rainbow Sunshine Queen. Everyone is there: the Lollipop Guild... ...the Star-Twinkle Toddlers, the Sparkly Unicorns, the Cookie Baking Apple-cheeked Grandmothers, the Fluffy Bunny Bund, the Rumbly-Tumbly Pupperoos, the Snowflake Princesses, the Baby Duckies All-In-A-Row, the Laughing Babies, and the Dykes on Bikes. Afterward, they spend the rest of the night dancing and singing and waving glow sticks until dawn when they tumble sleepy-eyed into beds made of the purest and whitest goose down where they dream of angels and clouds of spun sugar. You don’t live there. Grow the fuck up.” -TBogg
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posttexasstressdisorder · 9 months ago
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GOP has gone rancid—and it isn't fair decent people have to keep cleaning up after them
D. Earl Stephens
April 23, 2024 5:27AM ET
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People await the arrival of former U.S. President Donald Trump at a rally for Sen. Marco Rubio (R-FL) at the Miami-Dade Country Fair and Exposition on November 6, 2022 in Miami, Florida. (Photo by Joe Raedle/Getty Images)
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I’ve heard more than enough from people identifying as Republicans to last for whatever is left of my life.
By words and actions, Republicans have proven they are not serious people, and most definitely do not love or care for our country. We have learned without any doubt during the past decade that there is no line they won’t cross, rule they won’t break, or lie they won’t tell to further their dirty causes, which have absolutely nothing to do with making America great.
They are incapable of good governance, and have settled into mob rule. The Republican-led House of Representatives is a complete and nasty joke, where members literally elbow and hiss at each other, and that is both true and terribly, terribly sad.
With help from our inept Justice Department and a bought-off Conservative Supreme Court, Republicans are making a mockery of the notion that our nation is protected by the rule of law. They know better than anybody, that this simply is not true.
They have exploited a system they have learned to eagerly spit on by refusing to allow nominations for Supreme Court Justices in some cases, while rocketing other Conservative nominees through the Senate in record time.
READ: Breaking our democracy is all part of the GOP plan
They call violent terrorists who attack our country hostages, and expect the press to keep swallowing it whole, because that’s what they do.
Cheating and underhandedness is in their DNA.
They are long past the point of no return, and will either pay for their felonious behavior, or will somehow be rewarded for it at the polls this November, in which case we are done with our Democratic experiment after 248 years.
It is now up to Democrats to once again save this nation from the sick arsonists eagerly trying to burn it to the ground, and that is helluva lot to ask, and isn’t remotely fair.
Here’s a damn truth we don’t hear near enough about: If the Democratic candidate for president was facing 91 felony counts, had been convicted of fraud, was a serial abuser of women, told a documented 30,573 lies in four years, spread a big, toxic lie about an election he lost, and praised dictators, the party and the people who support it, would drop him/her like a rock.
He or she wouldn’t stand a chance. They’d be banished to the nearest dumpster. No decent person would want to be associated with such obvious scum.
The people who vote on the Left and the Right in this country are not remotely the same, and I am way past sick and tired of hearing that they are.
Something as despicable and odious as Donald J. Trump could NEVER happen in the Democratic Party. We simply would not allow it.
That right there is an ironclad fact.
Democrats and left-leaning people are not perfect, because no person is, but we still believe in truth, decency and manners. ALL children are important in our world, which is why we believe feeding them and getting them the healthcare and the childcare they need is vital, and far more important than paying the taxes of filthy-rich, bloated billionaires. We still believe that how the United States projects itself to rest of the world and our children means something.
We love our country, warts and all.
We still believe that when we’ve made mistakes, or said stupid, hurtful things we should apologize for them, not recklessly double down like ill-bred maniacs.
We have not, and will not, surrender to the lowest form of life like Trump. It is simply not in us.
As of this writing, I am officially DONE listening to the unmitigated gall that “both sides do it” or “both parties are the same” because that’s a complete load of bullshit. It is brutally insulting to the tens of millions of people in this country who play by the rules, believe all people are created equal, and still know a damn lie, or attack on our country when they hear it and see it.
The people who populate the Left and Right in our country are wired differently, and it’s time this was said out loud, and repeatedly. It is also long past time our media reported this. Especially because they know it to be true.
In the newsrooms where I used to work, if something so obviously bad and as evil as Trump and his enablers had burst on the scene, we would have been sounding alarms and reporting on it 24/7. The man means us and our country harm. We know this because he is SHOWING US AND TELLING US THIS.
There is seldom a day that goes by without him saying or doing something revolting and egregious. The media doesn’t even bother asking his Republican followers in Congress to account for his larceny anymore. They just accept it as somehow normal when it most certainly is not and never can be.
There are two sides to the story that should be told in America right now. One is called, good, the other is called, evil.
The only reason our national press does not report on this legitimately and accurately is simply because they are pathetic cowards, plain and simple. They know they are failing, but are carrying on despicably, anyway.
I’ll always have ammo to burn addressing their egregious behavior these days, but for now, I want to continue unwinding this thread of how the Left and Right are completely different and how unfair it is that we have to deal with the never-ending recklessness on the Right.
Back in 2015, when Trump laughably announced he’d be seeking the Republican nomination for president, many prominent Republicans rightfully scoffed at the possibility. You’ll get no better example than Lindsey Graham’s evergreen tweet: “If we nominate Trump we will get destroyed.......and we will deserve it.” Graham went on to call Trump, “a jackass.”
The Bushes, Rubios, and other red-blooded Republicans all saw Trump for what he was: completely disgusting and ridiculous. That was before the big-mouth, lifetime loser started blasting them off the debate stage by imitating a slobbering, belligerent drunk at the end of the bar.
Instead of bouncing him from the party, they allowed him to play to the delight of the silent minority in America, who had watched him bravely fire people on his TV show, and lick his toilet seat by degrading President Obama with his putrid, racist, noxious birther blather.
These were the fine people whose tongues bled from self-censoring the bile that flowed from their broken brains, into their big, fat mouths, and had taken centuries to finally go out of taste in this country. It killed them that there were actually awful, hurtful things they could not say out loud anymore.
Now they were free to be themselves again, and let the sludge flow freely from their chapped lips.
Their freedoms had nothing to do with breaking free from any chains, or breaking glass ceilings. No, their freedoms meant having the permission from the very top to be just as disgusting and appalling as they wanted to be. It meant belittling the disabled, and dragging women into the gutter. It meant coddling Nazis and calling cities that terrified them with their sophistication, “s--t holes.”
Before we knew it Nazis and white suprematists were coming out of their caves everywhere and lighting their tiki torches. They were finally on the march to the point of no return, where their disgusting leader was waiting to tell them that he loved them.
Once you have coddled a racist, a traitor, a two-timer, a friend of our enemies, an environmental terrorist, a serial liar, and a sociopath, you are completely lost and broken. Done.
Now the mob rules the Republican Party, which makes it fitting they are represented by this two-bit thug, who is currently sitting in a court room for hiding campaign money he paid to an adult movie star he slept with named Stormy, while his wife was at home caring for a newborn.
Yeah, that’s good and wholesome and normal right there.
A few have broken free of the madman’s grip in the Republican Party, while others have tried, and have crumpled into a heap and back into the mud and slime.
In February, Trump’s very own attorney general, the morally corrupt, Bill Barr, stumbled into bravery and truth when he said that voting for Trump would be “playing Russian roulette with the country.”
By this past Wednesday he had once again devolved and said, but “I’ll support the Republican ticket” if Trump leads it.
Also in February, New Hampshire Republican Governor Chris Sununu said of Trump: “A--holes come and go. But America is here to stay.”
On Sunday, he admitted he had changed his tune and said: “Look, nobody should be shocked that the Republican governor is supporting the Republican president.”
That’s exactly right, governor: A--holes come and go, and apparently you will do everything you can to hang around for a while. You are a revolting person, sport.
Nobody should be surprised by these things anymore, because the Republican Party is irredeemable and incapable of surprises. They can ALWAYS go lower, and prove it literally every day.
This is what happens when you are morally busted and are not bound by any rules or self-control that guides the rest of us.
This is what happens when you surrender to depravity.
This is what happens when you rubber stamp abuse of women, lies, insurrection and support for dictators as anything in the vicinity of normal.
So what happens when standing by the truth and playing by the rules gets you nowhere as a political party and as a country? What happens when millions discover there is no justice and a depraved mad man once again has the keys to the kingdom?
Thanks to the Barrs and the Sununus, and the tens of millions of below-average, broken-down Republicans littering our country, we are terrifyingly close to finding out.
It is up to the Left to take out the garbage once again in America, because the Right has lost its damn mind, as well as its sense of taste and smell.
At what point can all this FINALLY be delivered as fact and shouted on Page 1?
At what point can we quit pretending that both sides are even remotely the same?
NOW READ: What most assuredly happens when Trump sits down with the New York Times
D. Earl Stephens is the author of “Toxic Tales: A Caustic Collection of Donald J. Trump’s Very Important Letters” and finished up a 30-year career in journalism as the Managing Editor of Stars and Stripes. Follow @EarlofEnough and on his website.
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