#finance curse

[mostlysignssomeportents]

A link-clump demands a linkdump

Cometh the weekend, cometh the linkdump. My daily-ish newsletter includes a section called "Hey look at this," with three short links per day, but sometimes those links get backed up and I need to clean house. Here's the eight previous installments:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

The country code top level domain (ccTLD) for the Caribbean island nation of Anguilla is .ai, and that's turned into millions of dollars worth of royalties as "entrepreneurs" scramble to sprinkle some buzzword-compliant AI stuff on their businesses in the most superficial way possible:

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2023/08/ai-fever-turns-anguillas-ai-domain-into-a-digital-gold-mine/

All told, .ai domain royalties will account for about ten percent of the country's GDP.

It's actually kind of nice to see Anguilla finding some internet money at long last. Back in the 1990s, when I was a freelance web developer, I got hired to work on the investor website for a publicly traded internet casino based in Anguilla that was a scammy disaster in every conceivable way. The company had been conceived of by people who inherited a modestly successful chain of print-shops and decided to diversify by buying a dormant penny mining stock and relaunching it as an online casino.

But of course, online casinos were illegal nearly everywhere. Not in Anguilla – or at least, that's what the founders told us – which is why they located their servers there, despite the lack of broadband or, indeed, reliable electricity at their data-center. At a certain point, the whole thing started to whiff of a stock swindle, a pump-and-dump where they'd sell off shares in that ex-mining stock to people who knew even less about the internet than they did and skedaddle. I got out, and lost track of them, and a search for their names and business today turns up nothing so I assume that it flamed out before it could ruin any retail investors' lives.

Anguilla is a British Overseas Territory, one of those former British colonies that was drained and then given "independence" by paternalistic imperial administrators half a world away. The country's main industries are tourism and "finance" – which is to say, it's a pearl in the globe-spanning necklace of tax- and corporate-crime-havens the UK established around the world so its most vicious criminals – the hereditary aristocracy – can continue to use Britain's roads and exploit its educated workforce without paying any taxes.

This is the "finance curse," and there are tiny, struggling nations all around the world that live under it. Nick Shaxson dubbed them "Treasure Islands" in his outstanding book of the same name:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780230341722/treasureislands

I can't imagine that the AI bubble will last forever – anything that can't go on forever eventually stops – and when it does, those .ai domain royalties will dry up. But until then, I salute Anguilla, which has at last found the internet riches that I played a small part in bringing to it in the previous century.

The AI bubble is indeed overdue for a popping, but while the market remains gripped by irrational exuberance, there's lots of weird stuff happening around the edges. Take Inject My PDF, which embeds repeating blocks of invisible text into your resume:

https://kai-greshake.de/posts/inject-my-pdf/

The text is tuned to make resume-sorting Large Language Models identify you as the ideal candidate for the job. It'll even trick the summarizer function into spitting out text that does not appear in any human-readable form on your CV.

Embedding weird stuff into resumes is a hacker tradition. I first encountered it at the Chaos Communications Congress in 2012, when Ang Cui used it as an example in his stellar "Print Me If You Dare" talk:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njVv7J2azY8

Cui figured out that one way to update the software of a printer was to embed an invisible Postscript instruction in a document that basically said, "everything after this is a firmware update." Then he came up with 100 lines of perl that he hid in documents with names like cv.pdf that would flash the printer when they ran, causing it to probe your LAN for vulnerable PCs and take them over, opening a reverse-shell to his command-and-control server in the cloud. Compromised printers would then refuse to apply future updates from their owners, but would pretend to install them and even update their version numbers to give verisimilitude to the ruse. The only way to exorcise these haunted printers was to send 'em to the landfill. Good times!

Printers are still a dumpster fire, and it's not solely about the intrinsic difficulty of computer security. After all, printer manufacturers have devoted enormous resources to hardening their products against their owners, making it progressively harder to use third-party ink. They're super perverse about it, too – they send "security updates" to your printer that update the printer's security against you – run these updates and your printer downgrades itself by refusing to use the ink you chose for it:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

It's a reminder that what a monopolist thinks of as "security" isn't what you think of as security. Oftentimes, their security is antithetical to your security. That was the case with Web Environment Integrity, a plan by Google to make your phone rat you out to advertisers' servers, revealing any adblocking modifications you might have installed so that ad-serving companies could refuse to talk to you:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/02/self-incrimination/#wei-bai-bai

WEI is now dead, thanks to a lot of hueing and crying by people like us:

https://www.theregister.com/2023/11/02/google_abandons_web_environment_integrity/

But the dream of securing Google against its own users lives on. Youtube has embarked on an aggressive campaign of refusing to show videos to people running ad-blockers, triggering an arms-race of ad-blocker-blockers and ad-blocker-blocker-blockers:

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/where-will-the-ad-versus-ad-blocker-arms-race-end/

The folks behind Ublock Origin are racing to keep up with Google's engineers' countermeasures, and there's a single-serving website called "Is uBlock Origin updated to the last Anti-Adblocker YouTube script?" that will give you a realtime, one-word status update:

https://drhyperion451.github.io/does-uBO-bypass-yt/

One in four web users has an ad-blocker, a stat that Doc Searls pithily summarizes as "the biggest boycott in world history":

https://doc.searls.com/2015/09/28/beyond-ad-blocking-the-biggest-boycott-in-human-history/

Zero app users have ad-blockers. That's not because ad-blocking an app is harder than ad-blocking the web – it's because reverse-engineering an app triggers liability under IP laws like Section 1201 of the Digital Millenium Copyright Act, which can put you away for 5 years for a first offense. That's what I mean when I say that "IP is anything that lets a company control its customers, critics or competitors:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

I predicted that apps would open up all kinds of opportunities for abusive, monopolistic conduct back in 2010, and I'm experiencing a mix of sadness and smugness (I assume there's a German word for this emotion) at being so thoroughly vindicated by history:

https://memex.craphound.com/2010/04/01/why-i-wont-buy-an-ipad-and-think-you-shouldnt-either/

The more control a company can exert over its customers, the worse it will be tempted to treat them. These systems of control shift the balance of power within companies, making it harder for internal factions that defend product quality and customer interests to win against the enshittifiers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

The result has been a Great Enshittening, with platforms of all description shifting value from their customers and users to their shareholders, making everything palpably worse. The only bright side is that this has created the political will to do something about it, sparking a wave of bold, muscular antitrust action all over the world.

The Google antitrust case is certainly the most important corporate lawsuit of the century (so far), but Judge Amit Mehta's deference to Google's demands for secrecy has kept the case out of the headlines. I mean, Sam Bankman-Fried is a psychopathic thief, but even so, his trial does not deserve its vastly greater prominence, though, if you haven't heard yet, he's been convicted and will face decades in prison after he exhausts his appeals:

https://newsletter.mollywhite.net/p/sam-bankman-fried-guilty-on-all-charges

The secrecy around Google's trial has relaxed somewhat, and the trickle of revelations emerging from the cracks in the courthouse are fascinating. For the first time, we're able to get a concrete sense of which queries are the most lucrative for Google:

https://www.theverge.com/2023/11/1/23941766/google-antitrust-trial-search-queries-ad-money

The list comes from 2018, but it's still wild. As David Pierce writes in The Verge, the top twenty includes three iPhone-related terms, five insurance queries, and the rest are overshadowed by searches for customer service info for monopolistic services like Xfinity, Uber and Hulu.

All-in-all, we're living through a hell of a moment for piercing the corporate veil. Maybe it's the problem of maintaining secrecy within large companies, or maybe the the rampant mistreatment of even senior executives has led to more leaks and whistleblowing. Either way, we all owe a debt of gratitude to the anonymous leaker who revealed the unbelievable pettiness of former HBO president of programming Casey Bloys, who ordered his underlings to create an army of sock-puppet Twitter accounts to harass TV and movie critics who panned HBO's shows:

https://www.rollingstone.com/tv-movies/tv-movie-features/hbo-casey-bloys-secret-twitter-trolls-tv-critics-leaked-texts-lawsuit-the-idol-1234867722/

These trolling attempts were pathetic, even by the standards of thick-fingered corporate execs. Like, accusing critics who panned the shitty-ass Perry Mason reboot of disrespecting veterans because the fictional Mason's back-story had him storming the beach on D-Day.

The pushback against corporate bullying is everywhere, and of course, the vanguard is the labor movement. Did you hear that the UAW won their strike against the auto-makers, scoring raises for all workers based on the increases in the companies' CEO pay? The UAW isn't done, either! Their incredible new leader, Shawn Fain, has called for a general strike in 2028:

https://www.404media.co/uaw-calls-on-workers-to-line-up-massive-general-strike-for-2028-to-defeat-billionaire-class/

The massive victory for unionized auto-workers has thrown a spotlight on the terrible working conditions and pay for workers at Tesla, a criminal company that has no compunctions about violating labor law to prevent its workers from exercising their legal rights. Over in Sweden, union workers are teaching Tesla a lesson. After the company tried its illegal union-busting playbook on Tesla service centers, the unionized dock-workers issued an ultimatum: respect your workers or face a blockade at Sweden's ports that would block any Tesla from being unloaded into the EU's fifth largest Tesla market:

https://www.wired.com/story/tesla-sweden-strike/

Of course, the real solution to Teslas – and every other kind of car – is to redesign our cities for public transit, walking and cycling, making cars the exception for deliveries, accessibility and other necessities. Transitioning to EVs will make a big dent in the climate emergency, but it won't make our streets any safer – and they keep getting deadlier.

Last summer, my dear old pal Ted Kulczycky got in touch with me to tell me that Talking Heads were going to be all present in public for the first time since the band's breakup, as part of the debut of the newly remastered print of Stop Making Sense, the greatest concert movie of all time. Even better, the show would be in Toronto, my hometown, where Ted and I went to high-school together, at TIFF.

Ted is the only person I know who is more obsessed with Talking Heads than I am, and he started working on tickets for the show while I starting pricing plane tickets. And then, the unthinkable happened: Ted's wife, Serah, got in touch to say that Ted had been run over by a car while getting off of a streetcar, that he was severely injured, and would require multiple surgeries.

But this was Ted, so of course he was still planning to see the show. And he did, getting a day-pass from the hospital and showing up looking like someone from a Kids In The Hall sketch who'd been made up to look like someone who'd been run over by a car:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/53182440282/

In his Globe and Mail article about Ted's experience, Brad Wheeler describes how the whole hospital rallied around Ted to make it possible for him to get to the movie:

https://www.theglobeandmail.com/arts/music/article-how-a-talking-heads-superfan-found-healing-with-the-concert-film-stop/

He also mentions that Ted is working on a book and podcast about Stop Making Sense. I visited Ted in the hospital the day after the gig and we talked about the book and it sounds amazing. Also? The movie was incredible. See it in Imax.

That heartwarming tale of healing through big suits is a pretty good place to wrap up this linkdump, but I want to call your attention to just one more thing before I go: Robin Sloan's Snarkmarket piece about blogging and "stock and flow":

https://snarkmarket.com/2010/4890/

Sloan makes the excellent case that for writers, having a "flow" of short, quick posts builds the audience for a "stock" of longer, more synthetic pieces like books. This has certainly been my experience, but I think it's only part of the story – there are good, non-mercenary reasons for writers to do a lot of "flow." As I wrote in my 2021 essay, "The Memex Method," turning your commonplace book into a database – AKA "blogging" – makes you write better notes to yourself because you know others will see them:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

This, in turn, creates a supersaturated, subconscious solution of fragments that are just waiting to nucleate and crystallize into full-blown novels and nonfiction books and other "stock." That's how I came out of lockdown with nine new books. The next one is The Lost Cause, a hopepunk science fiction novel about the climate whose early fans include Naomi Klein, Rebecca Solnit, Bill McKibben and Kim Stanley Robinson. It's out on November 14:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865939/the-lost-cause

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/2023/11/05/variegated/#nein

[dougielombax]

No, kitten.

Tax evasion and hating poor people is NOT a substitute for a personality.

Nor is it a personality trait.

Now run along, Daddy is currently trying to find patterns in things that aren’t there.

[jerejerejere]

I've never been as devastated to not be able to see him at the böle show more than today :')

[highlynerdy]

life is really fucking hard right now for so many reasons...and i dunno, i just need to scream into the void. and also, i would love to hear about a good thing going on in your life if you have one to share.

[niuniente]

Me: oh no, my stomach has been acting up a lot for 2 weeks already, and I have a trip to England in a few days... Google: You can't use Imodium for more than 48h!!! Me: Ah, shit. A literal shit! Me: Doctor, please, is there any medication for IBS? Doctor: No, unfortunately. Imodium typically helps. Me: I've been using it and it does help. How long can I use it in one go? Doctor: Up to 3 weeks. Here's a prescription for you. Just take less when your symptoms start to subside. Me: Oh heaven's bless QuQ

[hershelwidget]

sorry i just went on an deep dive. it would cost like. 5 or so billion dollar for the octonauts to function. either inkling has pockets as deep as the ocean or there’s some highly illegal behind the scenes nonsense goin on here

[maxedes]

nico rosberg they can never make me hate you but this photo threw me into a hysterical laughing fit for nearly three minutes (and not in a good way)

[stock-tips-india]

[drabiukiblackmagic7]

+2349013415187 REAL QUICKEST DEATH SPELL / REVENGE SPELL CASTER IN AUSTRALIA, NORWAY ,ZAMBIA, Canada USA UK , KOSOVO, Netherlands. Norway Austria, Philippines Real

[modpoppy]

seeing everyone cosplay to the shows … kinda think itd be cool to do that if i hadnt already put together a concert outfit 😔

[madamxiam]

Why is my life the beginning of an isekai manga without the isekai, I could do without the cliche trope of an overworked black corporation slave but I would definitely welcome the isekai bit ahaha.

[mossy-rock-in-a-field]

Several weeks ago, my retirement-age mother requested that I play Baldur’s Gate 3 for her because she has trouble with controllers/keyboards and wanted “to see what all the fuss is about with that cute wizard boy.” For context, my mother and I have done this sort of thing in the past with certain RPGs (dragon age, mass effect, etc.), but it’s been a few years since she’s personally requested a game like this. Basically, I control her Tav but let her make all the choices so she can determine how the story plays out without worrying about mechanics. She treats it like a choose-your-own-adventure book.

Anyway, here is a list of some of the things my mother has said and/or chosen to do throughout the course of BG3 in no particular order:

She is (obviously) romancing Gale. She is quite smitten with him and his passion for books and learning; she also thinks he’s polite and qualifies as “relationship material.” She also REALLY likes the things he’s said about his cat so far (my mom is a cat lady), so I know she’s gonna flip shit when we meet Tara in Act III.

She’s playing a normal druid Tav with a generally good alignment. Her favorite spell is Spike Growth because she thinks it’s hilarious whenever enemies walk into the AOE and die. I usually end up having to cast it at least once per battle per her request. Sometimes twice.

Contrary to her alignment, my mother tasks me with robbing every single chest, crate, barrel, and burlap sack we come across; this also includes people and their pockets. The party is always at max carrying capacity. ALWAYS. She doesn’t like selling things because “what if I need them.” The camp stash is in literal shambles. There is no hope of organizing it. She’s got like fifty seven sets of rags and a billion pieces of random silverware.

She MUST talk to every animal and corpse in the game. I think five hours of her total playtime so far (47ish) has been spent speaking to animals as many times as humanly possible. Like, I was thorough in my own playthroughs, but this is on a whole other level.

She did NOT get Volo’s lobotomy, but she did let Auntie Ethel take her eye in hopes of a cure for the tadpole. I did not understand the logic then. I still do not understand it now.

She is far more interested in fashion than equipment stats. Do you have any idea how much gold I’ve had to spend on dyes just to make things match? SO much. Same vibe as that “please someone help me balance my finances my family is starving” tweet but instead of candles it’s thirty thousand fucking bottles of black and furnace red dye.

We broke the prisoners out of Moonrise, but they got on the boat too early and bugged the fight by leaving Astarion and Karlach behind. Wulbren Bongle somehow got stuck in combat mode even after engaging the cutscene on the docks below Last Light; he he kept trying to run ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOONRISE nine fucking meters at a time while I frantically tried to finish the fight with the Warden, otherwise Wulbren would have run straight into the shadow curse. (I would’ve let him go; fuck Wulbren Bongle, all my homies hate Wulbren Bongle. But my mom didn’t know that, and she wanted to keep him safe. So.)

She had me reload a save like eighteen times to save the giant eagles on top of Rosymorn Monastery. Wouldn’t even let me do non-lethal damage just to get past things. I think getting that warhammer for the dawnmaster puzzle took us like an hour and a half alone. (Yes, I know you can use any warhammer, but SHE didn’t.)

She’s started keeping an irl notebook to keep track of her quests between play sessions. She writes down ideas and strategies when she thinks of them during the week, then brings them to her next game session at my house. I think she wrote about three pages on possible approaches to the goblin fortress alone.

She insists that I pet Scratch and the owlbear cub before every single long rest, no exceptions. Sometimes I have to do it multiple times until she is absolutely sure that the animals know exactly how much she loves and cherishes them. She has also commissioned a crocheted owlbear plush from a friend of hers and is very excited.

I’m sure there’s a bunch of stuff I’m forgetting, but those are some fun things I thought of. She’s enjoying the game and is telling all of her retired friends to get it and play it for themselves. She asked me “what is Discord” yesterday and I think my life flashed before my eyes.

anyway shout out to my mom for being neat

Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

[seraphdreams]

SMILE, YOU'RE ON CAMERA. | YUUTA OKKOTSU.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. when taking care of your university finances proves troublesome, the universe grants you your very own savior. but it’s gonna cost you.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, college au!yuuta / bimbo reader (obvi), filming, lots of porn references… a lot, virginity loss, praise, oral n fingering, slight obsession, pussydrunk yuuta, unprotected love making, yuuta’s rich and unsettling. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 5.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! omg, yuuta? i meant to have this out a few weeks ago but got caught in a little writing slump :( nevertheless, here’s to a new year and a new fic! yuuta’s been slowly creeping his way up my favs list , tehe !! as always, please reblog / comment if you enjoyed this , it’ll fill me with joy. thank u ♡

you’re a pornstar.

albeit, an amateur one with heaps to learn regarding the ruthless industry, but the weight still stands.

the details in which you came to the jarring conclusion were muddled with the convoluted steps that it took for you to get there, murky in your bubblegum-filled mind. all you knew was that yuuta okkotsu was a force, a gentle one, to be reckoned with.

it must’ve played out once you returned to your campus dorm beyond the dusk of midnight, under an unmitigating fatigue from the twelve hour waitressing shift just prior. through abhorrent patrons and the lack of a spendable paycheck, the excruciatingly long night barely made you enough money to even think about buying those dollish pumps you’ve been yearning for. how cruel.

in between working and haphazardly handing your earnings over to university fees and textbooks, you just couldn’t seem to make ends meet.

you would curse the day you took it upon yourself to branch away financially from your parents under the guise of growing up, since now it’d be a blessing to have even a cellphone bill paid off. whatever the issue seemed to be, lady luck was truly never bothered enough to be on your side.

fortunately for you, though, it was that same arduous night, you had been huddled against your stuffed animals in bed, mindlessly scrolling through the various social media apps on your phone; switching from sites like instagram and twitter to youtube then right back to instagram all over again, only to be met with an offer dusted in pink glitter that caught your eye as if it were made for you.

“stars needed — will pay upfront.”

it was a shoddy story post, one that could be clicked past and forgotten forever — yet, a brisk reminder of your situation in the form of borrowed, used textbooks with pages missing or vandalized, and today’s horoscope that said to take risks; you did exactly that, aiming a swipe up that would ultimately rid you of the worries of yesterday.

there were no reasons as to why you couldn’t be a star. certainly, you had the face for it, and you were told by multiple charmers that you were beyond beguiling to get anything you could ever ask for. what dismay could possibly unfold from contacting .. yuuta okkotsu .. about his offer?

hm, that’s funny. the name rang familiarity as it seeded in your mind.

must be one of yuuji’s friends.

itadori yuuji, your best friend of three years now. out of all the time you’d spent together, you came to realize that he could get along with anyone, despite their true intentions. he spoke highly of his friends as well, which earned him a sacred spot in your heart that couldn’t be replaced by anyone.

itadori had briefly mentioned in a ramen-fueled frenzy that one of his peers were “so insanely talented” and that you’d definitely get on with him. but when you asked for validity on that vague claim, all yuuji seemed to respond with was a mere “just meet him, you’ll see.”

from your recollection, the acquaintance he was boasting about, as if it was his own personal victory, was none other than your yuuta okkotsu. he was meek, stuck to a close-knit friend group consisting of maki and toge from your physics class, and the one time you ever spoke to him was to ask about yuuji’s whereabouts, to which he responded that he went back to his dorm after gojo-sensei’s lecture.

he seemed, normal. average, even. that surely had to be the case since your memory was hazy on his being otherwise.

it was true, though, yuuta was gifted. in a way that transcended words, skillful towards visual aesthetics, and careful with the craft. he would spend most of his freetime fumbling with a camera or recording the works of the mundane. overtly, he’d grown such a strong passion in the field of videography in hopes to capture the reality of humanity, the authenticity within intimacy — what could he possibly need a “star” for?

shadiness aside, you were in a tough spot, willing to do whatever to free yourself from the financial burden that was jujutsu technical university. with a swift swipe in tandem with the soft tapping of the pads of your thumbs on the keyboard, you were taking yuuta up on his offer.

within seconds, he responded back with his address and an appropriate meet-up date to start the project.

if only you were aware of how drastically your life would change from here on out.

a cluster of days had passed since you last got into contact with yuuta. he had told you to meet him at his place, claiming it would be more efficient than traveling to an unnamed destination with pounds of heavy photography equipment.

where you stood currently, was in front of the bare oak of his front door, hand wrapped in a loose fist as you knocked gently on the wood. a quick moment had passed by before you took initiative to raise your fist and knock once more. before your touch could meet the wood, a muffled “coming!” chimed beyond the door. from what you had heard on the other side; the scuttling behind the door and jingle of the lock, yuuta had opened the door soon after.

with his hand rubbing away the goosebumps that stood at the back of his neck, he beamed. cordially, warmly.

“you’re actually here. hi,”

upon first glance, yuuta had a distinct look. he stood tall, not tall enough to matter or incite intimidation, and although he wore a black button-up (a bit formal for an occasion as casual as today), his lean build shone through under the thin fabric, ripples of veins dancing up his forearms. what you couldn’t miss, however, were the grey eyebags under his emotionless navy orbs, as if he’d forgone weeks of sleep.

yuuta okkotsu was unsettling.

“hi,” your voice sounded as a sweet croon, dulcet enough that you could barely hear it yourself as it escaped in a breathy breeze. his smile grew softer in response, that monotonous gaze in his eyes fizzling away into something of serenity. “come in, please,” yuuta held the door open wider for you to tread past, caught up in observing the bunch of fabric that hugged tightly around your ass, then closed it gently behind you once you stepped completely inside. he silently cursed at himself for ogling — he truly didn’t mean to stare. you’re just a lot prettier up close. “i was just getting set up. you can have a seat if you’d like.”

as you’d expect from any guy your age, his place wasn’t much to gaze at, nor did it have much personality. in a corner to your right was a houseplant, that of the fern variety, and a few steps deeper into the abode was the living room, where yuuta resumed his fumbling with the transfiguration of his tripod.

you decided to sit on the couch across from him, taking in the bleak sight of his home. you would have almost believed it was unlived in had it not been for the scattered midterm review papers decorating his coffee table. it was obvious he had money from the endless rows of space that surrounded the two of you, although a candle or something would be nice.

he peered away from his tripod to look through the viewfinder of his camera, ensuring that the lens was functioning properly. he grew pleased to see the image of you distracted in fiddling with your thumbs reflected back at him. “are you nervous?” his gaze fell upon you through his own eyes, a concerned expression harboring his features.

you were pulled out of your muse of unfamiliarity to direct your attention to the sound of his mild voice, returning a smile to his that eased the worriment trapped behind dull, blue eyes. “n-not really, i don’t think.”

his lips curled up once more at that, in fact there wasn’t a time so far that you hadn’t noticed him without his signature smile. “here, let me help with that,” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, tapping away at the screen before ultimately turning it back off and settling it back into its place in his pocket.

your phone vibrated beside you, screen lighting up with a bold alert.

[YUUTA OKKOTSU SENT $1000]

before you had a chance to even process the significance of the notification, he started back up,

“i hope i got the right information, wouldn’t want your hard work to get in the wrong hands.” the tilt of his head in tandem with a chuckle resonated sheepishly, and he returned to watch you through his camera lens.

he was right. the money did soothe your nerves.

“i’ve barely done anything yet.” a ditzy giggle followed soon after your sentence, a sound that yuuta couldn’t possibly ignore. you were already starting to pull at his heartstrings.

“and you’ve done it so perfectly,” his praise left you flustered in that moment and you bit down softly on your lower lip to keep your smile at bay. “thank you, yuuta.”

you would’ve never guessed that your introverted classmate had enough experience in him to be such a flirt, or have your cheeks heating up with fervid affection, no less. but maybe yuuta was just like that; maybe this had been natural.

“no, thank you.” his thumb hovered over the record button just as his eyes met your gaze over the brim of the camera. “would you like to start now?”

he took the nod of your head as confirmation to press the record button, finally getting started with the project.

you blinked blankly at him as he tilted his head and flashed a warmhearted grin. “how old are you?” was his first question. he had asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. as he did so, you took notice of the silver ring donned around his finger.

he couldn’t have been married, no?

keeping your answer as vague as possible for the sake of matching his comforting warmth, you responded, “twenty-something.” he let out a satisfied huff of air as he nodded and moved onto his next query.

“and what’s your major?”

with the question barely having enough time to linger in the suggestively tense air, he added, “you’re very beautiful, by the way. do you mind taking your dress off for me?”

as much as it should’ve alarmed you, you were swayed by his toothachingly inviting timbre, its gentleness pulling compliancy from you in a matter of a few mere words. you only shook your head, forgoing the short piece of fabric that clung to each curve and dip of your body while your nipples hardened under the glacial, artificial breeze of his home. once the silk pooled at your hips, that, along with your panties were dropped onto the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable under the camera — and yuuta’s watchful eye.

he swallowed thickly at the sight, remaining as respectful as he could despite the monster growing in his pants; his eyes locked right back onto yours as if he’d get striked down for moving them even a millimeter south. “are you a virgin?” he queried, opting to move his hand from awkwardly at his side to fidgeting with the button at his shirt, ultimately undoing it and revealing another inch of skin at his heated chest.

from the nature of what you had signed yourself up for, you were hesitant to answer his question. of course you needed experience to be a star, and with you lacking the preconceived ability, you could kiss your $1000 goodbye..

yet he looked at you with an expectant gaze. no traces of malice in his eyes or frustration from your quick witted silence, but merely, with patience. and in that moment you couldn’t find it within yourself to lie.

“i am,” out of shame, you curled in on yourself, hoping that the sofa would engulf you, and your feelings, crossing your arms over your bare chest as if it’d create a wall of privacy behind your own humiliation. “is that okay?”

yuuta’s being only grew warmer at the response, you figured he’d be hot to the touch by now, from searing pleasure or unshakeable cordiality, you wouldn’t know. “yeah, that’s okay,” it came out breathier than he would’ve liked, a telltale sign of his aching desire. “that’s more than okay.”

truth be told, he had never met anyone as enchanting as you. you looked up at him with such trust in your eyes that it daunted him — fear that the assurance he wielded from you would shatter beneath him, and he’d be drowning. in a sea of his own wistfulness. now that he had you, he couldn’t let you go.

you were on to make a breathtaking star.

now feeling less coy than before, you relaxed your head into the palm of yuuta’s hand. you hadn’t noticed how long he’d been stroking at your cheek, or when he closed the vexing proximity between the two of you, all that mattered in that moment was the roll of his gentle vocables flowing through your ears and the thumb of his that graciously caressed your cheek.

you came to realize that he was much more handsome this way as your eyes toured his own, then down to the sliver of sweat-sheened skin peeking from underneath the black veil of his shirt, then down to his…

he’s so fucking hard.

confined against his slacks was his cock that leaked an ample amount even while it was untouched. you could make out its silhouette, something girthy, perhaps heavy, but nothing like you’d expect from yuuta. uncharacteristically huge.

“yuuta.” you whispered, mainly to yourself, as your mouth began to water at the sight, and his cheeks dusted pink once he realized what you were fixated upon.

“do you wanna,” he started up but faltered soon after when your lidded gaze flitted back up towards his. never had he felt so weak before, it was as if you’d casted a spell on him. “do you maybe want to—” he paused to avert his own gaze and embarrassment. “—put it in your mouth?”

he could’ve sworn he heard the increase of his heartbeat in his ears when you crinkled your brows, pretty face forming into an even prettier pout.

“but i’ve never—”

he stopped you before you could start, interjecting his own voice of reassurance.

“it’s okay. i’ll guide you,” taking his camera off its stand and moving the rest of the configuration elsewhere, he held it in one hand to better capture the scene unfolding before him. “just try your best for me, okay?”

“okay.” when he returned your concern with a small smile, you took it upon yourself to undo the arrangement of his pants, carefully hooking your finger into the elastic waistband of his briefs and pulling down just enough for his length to spring free.

for what felt like minutes, you marveled at his sheer size, wondering how anyone of his nature could possibly be hiding something like that. it curved upwards with a prominent vein or two running up the underside while it continued to leak, so much so, that you had to collect it all at the tip with your finger.

the tip? flushed the prettiest pink you’d ever witnessed and was as bulbous as it was mushroomed, you knew you’d have a bit of difficulty trying to fit into your mouth. it seemed to twitch under the fanning of your breath to which yuuta let out a whine of pure impatience.

“can i..?” your words trailed off when you involuntarily found yourself pressing chaste kisses along the length of his cock until they met with his sticky tip; a recreated scene from the various porn videos you’d seen. the sensation sent a jolt of palpable pleasure through his being, yuuta’s dark hair curtaining over his eyes while he made a damn good attempt at silencing his moans, with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip.

your eyes kept watch at his wavering expression while you wrapped your hand at the base of his length and began to pump slowly, yet another thing you had learned through the fascinating world of porn.

“suck it,” it was clear to you that yuuta had grown desirously impatient from your teasing, looking down at you with a hint of hunger in his beautiful orbs. “please?”

you took his words as an incentive to finally give him what he’s been leaking for, wrapping gloss-sheened lips around the thick inches of his tip, accommodating for the stretch with a dulcet whine that reverberated deeply within him. had you not been caught up in building the gradual bob of your head, he would’ve kissed you, left you with smeared lips and a tongue that ached for only him upon seeing the sinful sight of innocent eyes fixated on his own. you’re beautiful. truly, to die for.

caught all on tape to be watched over and over again.

at the bliss, yuuta’s lip parted open, alotting for a slur of groans turned whimpers to tumble past. “you- you’re already doing, so good.” he praises, the words floating on his breath. his free hand finds itself back at your face, thumbing the warmth of your hallowed cheek while he captured the moment behind his lens. once you came to a comfortable rhythm, you couldn’t stop yourself from dipping your fingers between your thighs to ease the evergrowing ache in your core. in fact, you’d been like this since the moment yuuta spoke a word to you, lightheaded and malleable — what he’s beginning to love most about you.

your digits collected slick at your entrance, the immeasurable amount of essence that you’d pool providing ample leeway for you to sink three fingers inside, pumping at the same rhythm in which you’re sucking yuuta. soft fingertips curling against your gummy walls weren’t enough, though, and when he had caught notice of your weakening resolve, his hips involuntarily bucked into your mouth.

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” he began, with a choked moan. “just- so close, so fucking close. c-can you take me in deeper?”

the hum of assurance that sounded from you sent vibrations coursing through his cock, from tip to base. had you not been preoccupied with chasing your own high, you would’ve missed the pitchy moan he let out just after. with your palm now pressed up against your clit while you worked in tandem to pleasure the nub and your greedy hole, you attempted to swallow another stubborn inch of him.

simultaneous with the bobbing of your head, he matched your pace, abdomen flexing when the white-hot pleasure became too much and he could feel it in his ears. he wanted so badly to throw his head back, completely lose himself in bliss, but he had a job to do. he wouldn’t dare let the sight of your glassy lidded eyes and glossy lips struggling to wrap themselves around the stretch of his dick go unfilmed, unseen.

as his tip continued to prod the back of your throat and your fingers aided you in relieving the discomfort from your cunt, you found yourself just dangling off the dangerous edge of your release, strokes away from making a mess — and yuuta did too.

it wasn’t long until his head started spinning, legs got weaker, and his core coiled tighter; all the signs of a mindblowing orgasm, and blew his mind, you did. “baby- y/n, if you keep doing that- i might cum.” what he was referring to was the way you fondled his balls in the warmth of your soft hands, yet another trick you had learned from porn. “i don’t wanna cum in your mouth but if you—,”

a jumbled slew of curses flowed from his lips as he did the inevitable, shot his load deep down your throat, gently thrusting his cock in shallow strokes to jettison every last remaining drop. the taste on your tongue was nothing like you’d be warned of before. yuuta wasn’t bitter, he went down easy.

hell, you’d use his cum as a condiment for desserts if you could.

in a matter of moments, your own high had washed over you like cold water over a heated body, much needed and refreshing. once he hesitantly pulled out from the heat of your mouth, cock still hard and twitching for more, he gently pushed back strands of loose hair behind your ear.

“can i see?”

you held out your cream-slickened fingers, sopping with your juices as yuuta proceeded to catch how they dripped on camera. he then took your palm, with the cadence of a knight kissing the back of a princess’s hand, and slipped the soiled digits into his mouth. his tongue lavved around your index and middle fingers while he hummed satisfactorily at your taste. “you’re just as sweet as i imagined.” he smiled, finding amusement in your post-orgasmic, dazed state.

“do you do this with a lot of other girls, yuuta?” you queried, taking the time to scan your eyes over his face. it was as if he seemed to get more attractive as your time with him went on. he tilted his head slightly, finding your question endearing. “you’re my first, actually.” yuuta responded softly, as if his normal speaking voice would be too heavy on your delicate ears.

you jumped at the chance to tease him as he did you, placing your thumb back over the slit of his hard-on and lightly rubbing; which resonated within yuuta as a tonal mewl. a little smile pulled at your lips when you got your perfect reaction. “can you be my first?”

“i’d love to be,” he took your request with unadulterated honor as if he’d been tasked by the deities above to serve you. “just- just lay back for me. i promise i’ll take good care of you.”

and that you did; conforming to his call of request with such compliance it made his heart swell. you had positioned your body to rest languidly against the seat of the sofa, shaky legs hesitant to spread fully while your hand roamed up your sternum to find solace in kneading your tits.

he couldn’t deny how beautiful you looked, laid out for him as such. how had he been so lucky to be the only one to have the opportunity to marvel at the scene? with a steady hand, he faintly trails his hand up the expanse of your inner thigh, a silent beckon for you to open your legs wider. involuntarily so, your body had accepted his presence and allowed for the spreading of your thighs.

what you’d come to notice with yuuta was that he was watchful, observant. he seemed to pick up on every detail, even the minuscule bits that were most likely to fly over anyone else’s head, had been taken into account. it’s probably why he’s immensely proficient at what he does. not once had he allowed himself to miss the labored heaving of your chest, or the sheen of sweat thinly coating your body — the twitching of your clit when he stroked featherlight touches at the nub. he couldn’t call himself a true cameraman then.

his fingers had collected remnants of your previous orgasm before they worked in tandem, both middle and ring, to prod at your sensitive hole, slowly sinking themselves in. it was almost embarrassing how quickly your greedy cunt swallowed him in, as if it’d been waiting for his touch for years now. “y-yuuta, ‘m still sensitive.” you crooned in response to his digits exploring your cavern, plush walls gripping him with such tautness that he’d found it difficult to even curl his fingers.

his own mind spun (and cock leaked) at the thought of that same warmth around his length, and when you called his name, all he could think about was how pretty you’d sound moaning it. he wouldn’t mind if you were sonorous, if the neighbors would hear, if inumaki who lived downstairs would come knocking with a mouthful of complaints, if the whole world knew his name; because in that moment, yuuta okkotsu was yours.

yuuta okkotsu was in love.

after some shallow pumping, enough to have your legs attempting to enclose around his arm, yuuta had pulled his digits out and replaced the lost sensation with the fat tip of his cock stroking your slit up and down.

“i’m gonna put it in, okay? if you want me to stop, tell me. if i'm going too fast or slow, let me know.”

he perused your face for a hint of an answer, seemingly nothing going on behind your vacant, large eyes. your initial response was curt, an ode to the simplistic nature of your mind. “mhm.”

how endearing you were to him, just a unadorned reaction weakening his being, causing his heart to figuratively crumble within its confines against his ribcage. he had searched for a heartier answer, something tangible to hold on to, because, lord knows how terrible he’d feel if he took your indication the wrong way. “can you be vocal for me, please?”

you nodded your head. “i’ll let you know, yuuta.”

with a carefulness that only came from the most benign of beings, he had sunken the first inch of himself into your awaiting heat.

he was paused when your hand dashed to his lower abdomen, futilely pressing against the skin.

“wait—” you huffed wantonly. “—‘s too big.”

his eyes wavered with concern, hidden under the veil of pure arousal. in yuuta’s case he had dreamed of a compliment as self fulfilling as yours, for his thoughts of being average were shattered upon first inch. “should i stop?”

you shook your head, reveling in the light of his attentivity towards you and your body. “no,” you moved your hand from his abdomen. “don’t stop.”

one of his arms rested beside your head, helping to prop him up over your body while he dropped his head down to watch the way your bodies connected. gradually, the sight of his length slowly sinking inside, stretching you out further and further until he was in to the hilt flooded his vision. yuuta had caught on to your labored gasps, merely growing harder from your honeyed voice like music to his ears.

he then lifted his head, strands of inky, out-of-place tresses falling over his face and partially covering the depth of lingering eyes, that lingered for a second too long, causing that shuddering sensation you had once felt when you first met him to reappear. he held his camcorder beside his face, an all too cheerful grin masked over his features. “i’m all in!”

creepy.

there was no doubt that you hadn’t felt full. he practically spilled over with how much girth he possessed and throbbed innately within your walls. the swell of your tummy from just how deep he was, was enough to tear away at his composure and drag his length back before driving his hips in at a force unrecognizable to him. the yelp you had let out from his eager thrust dwindled into a blissful moan. “sorry, so sorry.” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off the faultless assortment of breathtaking features that was your face, eyebrows creased together, parted lips and eyes squeezed closed as if you’d been focused solely on the pleasure he was giving you.

his next thrust stroked softer than its predecessor, having no remnants of eagerness but instead, the nuance of a man that’d been simply smitten.

the meticulousness of his ministrations coursed through your body wondrously, each push and pull lathered in lust, savored to be remembered for the rest of his time on earth. it was as if he’d known your body for years, knew every dip and fold, every swell and mast, aware of what exactly it took to leave your body hungry for his touches.

you’d grown comfortable in the pace at which he set, your mind hazing over each time the blunt tip grazed along your gspot. he peppered kisses along your jaw and down your sternum, the fanning of his warm breath against your chest doing the minimum in stiffening the peaks of your breasts. shootable footage forgotten, yuuta took your mound into his mouth, teeth gently rolling against your nipple which caused you to tighten around his cock in response, the sweetest mewl he’s ever heard from you tumbling from your throat.

“at least take me on a date first, yuuta..” the wittiness of your voice had earned a stifled smile from him, finding utmost admiration in the suggestion. he’ll be sure to take you up on your offer, just as you had done for him.

when you felt the familiar coil within you starting to build up once more, you dipped your hand down to rub at your clit in tandem with the increasing vigor of his strokes. the sensation was all too foreign to you, too pleasurable that you couldn’t keep your sounds at bay. “‘m so close, g-gonna cum!” you had warned, yuuta pulled away from your tit with a soft pop. he chose to rest his head at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, mindlessly chanting the words like a mantra.

“i love you, i love you,” his pace faltered, growing sloppier by the second. “love you, love you so much.”

intoxicated by your heat, your scent, just you being you, and being so perfect — yuuta was pussydrunk. incredibly so. never in his life had he ever felt as high as you made him. you were an angel, sent to him from heaven, to defile and mark.

quickly, your release surged through you in torrents of ecstasy, nothing that you’ve experienced before, coating yuuta’s cock in the glorious essence of you. “cumming!” you cry, to no avail particularly since yuuta wasn’t wholeheartedly aware of the situation at hand. his mind was clouded with you, just as you were full of him, wincing in the aftershocks of your fervent orgasm and convulsing around his length with need.

it wasn’t long before his own ununified thrusts came to a sudden close, signifying the warm spurts of cum painting your insides, filling you entirely to the brim and leaking down your ass from riding out his high.

“god, i love you.” he whined, pressing faint kisses to your neck, unable to peel himself away from your fervid body. coming to your senses, his words finally resonated for you. “we only just met.”

he pulled himself up, opting to look down at your flushed face with a vague hint of confusion on his face as he tilted his head. “have we?”

“we have.” you nodded.

to yuuta, he’s known you his whole life. you were the light of his existence, the fire in his heart. had he managed to confuse you with someone else? surely, that wasn’t the case.

once he pulled out of you, he made sure to capture the moment that you leaked his seed on film, but in that time, borrowed jealousy had filled his soul. he couldn’t share the tape as he had planned, no one else deserved to see you in the same way he did. no one.

he tucked himself back into his pants, leaving you bare and oozing for just one second to fetch a warm wet rag to clean you up with. when he came back, you noticed just how chipper he’d gotten, if that were even possible. “you were amazing,” he smiled, gently wiping your folds pristine. “i’m so grateful you came to me.” the smile you returned matched his own, “thank you, you were- really good too.”

he perked up, eyes moving from between your thighs to your face. “really?” and when you nodded to him, you could see the apparent relief flow within his being. “you know,” he started. “i’m very interested in you.”

you tilt your head, jutting your lips in a cute pout. “interested, how?”

the camcorder that now resided on his coffee table, unpresumebly documenting the scene on display was picked up by yuuta, and turned off. he grinned softly, eyes shutting from his ear to ear smile.

“may i take you on a date?”

[harmoonix]

♦️Rubina♦️

Short Astrology Observations

Gemini placements, especially Moon/Mercury and Mars, love to make eye contact with the people they find attractive, but I can tell their eye contacts last so long

An Aquarius Lilith can talk about a rebellious nature in your community/social group, your friends can tell that you're a fiery person

Aries Saturn/Saturn in the 1H can end up overthinking over tense situations that already happened, is a like a flashback coming in your life

When Mercury transits your 7H, you can find yourself talking randomly about your past relationships or even current ones

The eyes of a sun - lilith h12 native are GORGEOUS!! These natives are widely known for having strong personalities and charisma

Neptune in the 6H/8H/12H can be drained by people mentally or even you can find your energy 'being stolen' by others in spirituality we call these people 'energetic vampires' people who are known to steal energy/mood

Neptune/Pisces in the 2H can indeed spend their finances on things they find spiritual or ancient. Also, it is very important to value your personal traits

If someone has a mix of Sag + Aries in their chart! BE SURE that person can be harsh at times even without realizing that they're being harsh on others

If you're born with Aqua placements, it is a big indicator that you have a humanitarian and peaceful energy, you love to help people in your community

Mars in the 11H or in Aqua can engage in conflicts about their friends or even with them, there is always some sort of issues, though this placement is very useful for manifesting fast

If Saturn is finding himself in the enemies like Leo or Cancer/Aries it can be a big indicator that you're meant to change something in this life time

Lilith in the 10H/Capricorn can have a provocative, sometimes problematic image, the society can find you powerful

You can always count on people with Moons in the 9H/11H/Sag Moon/Aquarius Moon to be loyal to you!! They will be so devoted to you

Moon transit in the 12H can talk about dreaming about your past or certain events that happened in the past

♦️Is very easy to tell the degrees between the tropical and sidereal charts if you learn them, the sidereal degrees will always be within 6° more in the sidereal chart than tropical for example

Having a planet at 24° in the tropical chart will result in a planet with 0° in the sidereal chart (24+6=0° in astrology because we don't have the 30°)

If you have a planet at 21° in the tropical chart will result a planet with 27° in sidereal chart

(21° + 6° = 27°)

If you have a planet at 2° in the tropical chart, it will result in 8° degrees in the sidereal chart

(2° + 6° = 8°)

And so on 🤩👏 just calculate them!♦️

Taurus Placements especially Venus/Lilith/Moon love to get spoiled!! They love luxury but won't tell and instead they will want you to observe that

Pluto in the 10H/11H in a natives chart can make energy of the chart so influential if you have aspects to pluto it will play a big role in your life

Prominent and Dominant planets are not the same!!

Prominent: lots of aspects to one planet

Dominant: lot of planets in the same sign (someone with 4 planets in Cancer is a Moon dominant)

I don't know if you guys observed, but most ppl with cap placements in a way feel restricted to tell their feelings, and it can be because people may not pay attention to those

2H/3H in Scorpio/Aquarius/Gemini/Aries can make the native talk in a more dirty way, for example, telling a curse word in each one of their questions/sentences

Venus in Aqua/Venus at 11° 23° degrees can have a chance to meet their partners online! That doesn't mean accepting all the requests on Tinder!!

The moon sign in your moon persona chart will tell more about your soul! Is a very emotional journey discovering as well! Make a combo of your tropical moon sign and moon persona's moon sign

Having 5H planets in your SR (solar return) can indicate getting into romantic relationships, especially Mars/Venus

Mercury aspecting Pluto natives may love to speak possessive words out of their mouths like 'You're mine' and things like that

Pluto in the 7H/Lilith in the 7H can talk about a dating history involving toxic partners and attracting them

When Aquarius Venus/Mercury/Moon/Rising will find love, they will mostly look for natives with a good mindset and a stable communication skill.

People who tend to be people pleasers can indicate deep father issues, especially parental trauma watch out for the sun/Saturn sign and the sign over your 4H

Capricorn/Aries in your 3H can indicate being the oldest/first kid or sibling in your family

People who have Saturn - Mercury harsh aspects find it hard to concentrate, hard to be focusing on things. Those people who have a lot on their mind

I feel like people with a water moon can be romantic, only if their partner shows romantism as well. Otherwise, it can be hard to be with one-sided romantic person

Cancer/Moon in the 9H ppl can have parents or family members who work in educational institutions, schools, high-schools etc

People with 4H like Libra, Taurus, Leo, and Pisces could've been raised by a single parent only or divorced parents later in life

In some cases, Leo/Cancer/Gemini/Aquarius/Sagittarius Lilith can talk about being the black sheep of the family and also the family with a favorite child, so favorkids in the family

Scorpio/Capricorn/Taurus Venus would rather wait for that one person to arrive in their lives than waste times with relationships

The definition of a Libra is co - relationships, so people with Libra Placements will feel like they need to have someone with them or the feeling to depend on someone

~ Have a little fun. It's the only way we know ~

[atyourmerci]

I don’t care that you’re a stoner

Ceo!abby

Dr. A.A

CW: smut, MDNI, dom!abby, mean!abby, sub!reader, light bondage (belt), tribbing brrr, talks of strap usage, tribbing breeding kink brrr, degradation, fingering, cum play

A/N: this is technically a drabble but I gave it a title bc that’s what Chappell deserves

◊

Why Dr. Anderson decided to come to you, your pathetic excuse of an ‘office’ instead of your usual frequent visits to hers, was beyond you. Following her around like a dog to her every beck and call. Having to call her doctor since she insisted on getting her doctorate in finance…fucking prick.

Even your credentials, your place in the hierarchy of the company didn’t exclude you from being her little bitch. She seldom gave you the decency of just looking at you when you did her dirty work. Filing her papers, calling her clients, getting her coffee, black of course, like she would drink anything with an ounce of happiness.

She never thanked you. She made it clear where you stood to her, below her. A bleeding, breathing, able-minded body. It could be you, or the next, as long as it was done correctly.

So nice of her as she glares at you from the door of your office that was always open. “What are your plans for tonight?” She says driving her veiny wrists into her slack pockets, her normal intimidating eyes driving into your soul.

“I should be done that paperwork by six, is there something else I need to get to you?”

“After that,” she remarks sternly, as if you should’ve know that, as if that was something she’d ever asked before.

“Uhh go home?” You answer dumbly, utterly confused by her insistence on your personal endeavors.

“Come out with us tonight. We go to max’s down the road,” it was a question with no opportunity for refusal. You didn’t say no to Dr.Anderson.

“Oh I don’t-“ you shake your head before she cuts you off.

“I know I can smell you. Seven. Tonight.”

Sprawled out, aggressively stripped of your outing dress, on her luxurious thousand thread cotton sheets. Dr. Anderson’s Louis Vuitton belt tied around your wrist, her attempt to regain dominance.

Even as she’s panting, muffled curses coming out as pleas as she grinds her soaking cunt against your own. Her clit is so swollen now, after completely abusing your hole. Her pent up arousal seeping into the sticky mess she created with her relentless thrusts earlier.

“Couldn’t fucking stop thinking ‘bout this,” she pants out, rutting into you like a dog in heat, her sticky white cum ruining her precious expensive sheets.

You can’t seem to find words to remark her pathetic admission, so completely fucked out from your previous orgasm.

Kneading your breast in her hand she brings her teeth to your neck, biting down on the thin flesh, sure to leave marks for everyone to see. But that wasn’t enough for her.

“Gonna cum in this needy pussy, let everyone know how much of a whore you are.”

A guttural moan leaves your throat, the thought of her marking you, claiming you as hers.

“Hmm the little slut likes that? Getting used as my fucking cumdump?”

The only thing you can seem to mutter out is a sad ‘mhmm’ as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

A ‘fucking slut’ is heard in the background as you feel her reposition herself, turning herself sideways inbetween your legs, throwing your leg over her shoulder. She reconnects your swollen clits, with the addition of sliding two of her thick fingers back into you. Slipping in with ease, coating her fingers with the mix of pearl slick.

“FUCK,” you come back to your senses at the new sensation, needing to hold onto anything but your hands are still bound by her belt.

“Still so fucking tight, need to stretch her out so it’ll only feel good when I do it.” Her pace beginning to quicken, her hips bucking into your thigh. Her teeth biting into the flesh of your thigh, holding back whimpers of your name.

“B-better take all my cum. Every last drop slut,” she begins losing herself, her thrusts only getting sloppier. Gripping into the flesh of your thighs to stabilize herself, trying to get you off again before herself.

“I-I promise doctor.”

Was what set her off, dropping her head back as her mouth gapes. “fuckfuckholyfuck,” her legs begin to shake, hot white cream dripping out of her pulsing hole, dripping down your clit and finding its home in your own twitching abandoned hole.

Huffing out as she regains her stability, realizing she’s losing time, her cum dripping down to her sheets and spreading. Not where she needed it.

She takes her fingers back to your cunt, scooping up what’s left, pushing it deep inside of you and keeping them as far as she can get.

“This is what you wanted huh? Nasty fucking mess stuffed with my cum,” she says with a grin of the devil herself. So pleased seeing you so dumb for her, another level of submission she could coax you into.

You give a pathetic nod, feeling her cum painting your walls as she’s deep in your cervix. She begins giving tantalizing licks to your clit as she watches your chest rise and fall.

“Abby please-“

Before you could finish you feel a rough grab on your belt adorned wrists, pulling you up to face her.

“Get the rest you missed.” She says pulling you down into the sheets, your mouth opening instinctively. Licking the cum soaked cotton sheets as she watches you from below her.

Once she’s satisfied she grips your jaw in her hand, guiding your gaze to her soaking cunt, still dripping with the mix of both of your orgasms-

“Every. Last. Drop.”

[drurrito]

Night Drive (18+)

Summary: You get a new car

AN: 18+ only y'all--we're gonna pretend that there are plenty of other self-driving cars that aren't t*sla...I hope this makes up for me not putting out another part of AYTO yet! All mistakes are mine.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: cursing; reader has a dick; dom//powerbottom!Natasha; sub//top!reader

----------------

You sink lower into your seat as you rev the engine of your new car with the widest grin Natasha can't see. Natasha looks hardly impressed from your view beyond the barely-legal tint of the windows.

You decide to roll down your window and plead your case.

"Hey baby."

Natasha rolls her eyes. You already screw yourself coming right out the gate with pleasantries, Natasha knows you're desperate to get on her good side when you do that.

"So...what do you think?" You vaguely gesture to the rest of the car and Natasha scoffs.

"I think you were a finance bro in your past life," she crosses her arms, and you relent, "probably," you sing as you round the car to lean against the hood. The gun metal gray still holds a shine in the moonlight. This wasn't an impulse purchase, you had been talking about buying a new car for a while now. You would go on little rants about the specs of certain cars whenever you saw them on the road or on TV. It's not like you were waiting when you had the money, being an avenger was a pretty-paying gig. You were just waiting for the right one, at the right time--a method you mastered by the time Natasha came around.

"Wanna go for a joyride?" You offer, already leaning off the hood and spinning the key in your hand.

Natasha wants to keep giving you a hard time, but you look so damn good in front of your sleek, expensive, new backdrop. Your muscles bulge under your fitted black shirt, and you have the cockiest smile on your face, like you knew you were winning this race.

"And if we get pulled over?"

"With SHIELD plates? I'm not worried about it," it almost comes out like it's scripted. You're not above rehearsing a speech for Natasha if it means getting your way. You're pulling out all the stops, but Natasha wants to remind you who's really behind the wheel. Her eyes rake over you slowly, intensely--the same way fresh lava travels over earth. You're standing at attention and you don't even know it.

"You gonna open the door for me or just stand there like you forgot your manners?" Natasha watches in amusement as you fumble for the door handle. She slides onto the cool leather while you make your way into the driver's seat yet again. You wait patiently for her to get comfortable and buckle in.

It's only when you rev the engine with a wink that Natasha muses this might have been a bad idea on her part. You punch the gas pedal and she's quickly acquainted with the back of the cherry red bucket seat.

----------------

Natasha decides that she doesn't like going fast unless the fate of the world depends on it. She also decides this is the one exception when she sees the freeway system of veins in your forearms as you grip the steering wheel. Natasha feels like she's flying when she watches your triceps flex while you turn the wheel or do something as mundane as turning on her seat heater.

Natasha slides her seatbelt off in a way that doesn't set off the sensor--she didn't want this moment to be ruined by a lecture on why it's important to buckle-up. You're too distracted by the beat of your night drive playlist to notice her crawling closer to you.

You feel her lips on the shell of your ear, "eyes on the road, got it?"

"Yes ma'am," you try to say cooly, you don't dare chance a look over at her. She hums with satisfaction and rewards you with a kiss on the skin behind your ear and a nibble on your lobe that tightens the coil in your belly.

Natasha sucks and licks at your neck while her deft fingers work to undo your belt and zipper. Her hand explores the border of your waistband before dipping under and finding what it was looking for. You let out a whisper of a gasp when Natasha admires your full length and girth. Your grip on the wheel tightens, Natasha chuckles when she hears the leather under your fingers groan.

Natasha begins to stroke you slowly, agonizingly so, but that doesn't keep your hips from bucking up into her hand.

"Tash," that only elicits a rumble against your neck. Natasha's other hand curls around your neck and gives a light squeeze that makes your vision blur for a second. Her stroking picks up speed, you have to work impossibly hard to keep your foot off the brakes.

"Natasha, please."

"I like the way you say please, baby," she mumbles with your skin between her teeth.

"What did I tell you?"

"Eyes on the road, ma'am," you say with a quickness that makes the corner of her lips curl up in satisfaction.

"So smart," she praises before you helplessly watch her head lower until you feel her lips greet your cock with a sloppy kiss. You throw your head back against your seat with a pathetic moan.

"So desperate," Natasha teases, and your mind feels like it's going a million miles an hour--multitasking is usually your strong suit, but it seems damn near impossible now.

Natasha's tongue travels the length of you, your hips feebly buck into her mouth when she finally grants you entrance. You slow your speed to safely take a hand off the wheel and hold her hair back. She thanks you with a gentle squeeze on your thigh and the prettiest sounds you could have only ever imagined.

Your playlist is already repeating itself by the time Natasha comes up for air. She can barely hear it over your panting anyway. You're rock hard and right where she wants you.

"The car can drive itself, you know," you breathe out. Natasha's brow quirks with curiosity.

"Show me," it's a gentle command, but your fingers rush to press the right sequence of buttons. You ease the seat back with haste, and Natasha just lets you sit there for a few beats to take you in and also leave you in suspense.

Your fingers dumbly flex against your legs while you wait for further instruction from Natasha. She doesn't even try to hide her smirk when your eyes begin to dart between the road and her.

"You're not gonna let us crash right, dove?" Natasha's finger traces a feather-light trail down your arm. It's a genuine question, even though she knows you probably did some sizable research on the safety features of the car before you even entertained buying it.

"No ma'am, you're precious cargo," you give an easy smile and that's Natasha's cue to move and straddle your lap. You help her with your hands on her hips, your hands quickly retreating to your sides when she's situated over you.

Natasha swears your eyes are sparkling as you watch her slide her panties to the side with one hand and take your length in the other.

"Eyes on me, baby, just for a second," she coos and you obey. Natasha can't help but admire the striations of your muscles working overtime to restrain yourself. You've always been intoxicatingly obedient, even when it's downright painful. Your eyes are locked on Natasha's, you have to bite your lip to stifle a moan when she finally eases down onto your cock. She's already working her hips in a way that has your entire body buzzing. You can count on one hand how many cars have passed you by this whole time, just like you expected.

Your fingers dig into the leather of your seat, your eyes periodically glancing at the road to make sure it hasn't veered off course for whatever reason. Natasha steals a few sloppy kisses when she leans into you to get a better angle and bounce on your cock at a speed that should be illegal.

"Tash, I'm gonna-," you choke out between labored breaths.

"What was that baby?" she leans back and oh god, you wish you had the kind of self-control your car has right now. You feel like you're going to pass out watching Natasha ride your cock, you're too blissed out to realize that she's spelling out 'm-i-n-e-' with her hips.

"I'm gonna come so fast."

"I know baby."

That seals your fate. Your arm reaches back to brace yourself against the seat. With a long and drawn-out "fuck," Natasha feels you push deeper into her, filling her up with every last drop of you. You both fall into a sweaty, moaning heap against the seat. Your body trembling with aftershocks as Natasha scratches at the skin on the back of your neck. You only get to drink this feeling in for a few seconds until you see red and blue flashing lights in your rearview mirror.

"Shit," you sit up and Natasha freezes when she sees what you see. You feverishly check your speedometer, you're not speeding. You start rifling through your brain to see if you forgot to do something, insurance? Plates? Registration?

Your questions are answered when you watch the cop car speed off into the night. Natasha lets out a heavy sigh of relief that makes your dick twitch, reminding you both that you're still inside of her.

"Told you," you try not to sound so exasperated. Natasha just rolls her eyes before kissing your temple. Night drives might just become a regular thing now.