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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months

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Fighting junk fees is "woke"

“Populism” isn’t intrinsically left or right. The distinction between the two is often obscured by jargon, but there’s a simple litmus test (courtesy of Steven Brust): “ask what’s more important: human rights, or property rights. If they say ‘property rights are human rights,’ they’re on the right.”

Which is to say, both the left and the right can be populist, but the populist left seeks to improve peoples’ lives, no matter what that takes, while the populist right is only willing to make the world better when that doesn’t interfere with the interests of property owners.

This is how you get the Libertarian Party of New Hampshire equating publicly produced, free insulin with forcing enslaved Black people to pick cotton in the fields:

https://newrepublic.com/post/174485/libertarian-party-suggests-former-black-lawmaker-pick-crops-free

For right populists, the property rights of pharma giants are human rights, so anything that interferes with those rights is equivalent to any other human rights violation.

This is not only wrong, but it’s also a huge vulnerability in the right populist mindset. It’s a button that, when pushed, produces a reliable and reflexive outrage.

This is essential for the creation, maintenance and expansion of plutocracy. In a plutocracy, a small minority owns most of the property (we live in a plutocracy). By definition, plutocracy isn’t popular, since it’s a system that benefits a small minority at everyone else’s expense. In its natural state, plutocracy is only popular with its winners, and not the vast majority of losers it creates.

So plutocrats need to find ways to get turkeys to vote for Christmas. One important trick is to convince us all that the system is fair, guided by an invisible hand that performs mystic passes over our heads at birth and locates the very best of us and elevates us to the apex of the social pyramid.

But there’s a problem with this: plutocracy is self-sustaining. The story that we’re all just “temporarily embarrassed millionaires” who can rise to the top with hard work and smarts falls flat in the face of the reality that nearly everyone at the top was born there. If the system selects rulers based on merit, and if everyone the system selects was born rich, then the rich must have some genetic trait that makes them destined to rule.

This is why plutocracy always turns into aristocracy: the idea that some people are suited to rule because they have “good blood.” Eugenics is, above all, a way to excuse inequality. Fitness to rule is determined primarily by whose orifice you emerge from, and only secondarily by any obvious competence or skill.

So right wing footsoldiers are mired in a terrible and shameful swamp of self-loathing. By definition, their lack of wealth and power is their own fault, and not merely their fault, but the fault of their genes. Being on the bottom is proof that you deserve to be there. Your failure to rise proves that you don’t deserve to rise.

No wonder the right is so irony-poisoned. Remember 2020, when gun-nuts got “revenge” on gun safety scolds by photographing themselves pointing loaded guns at their own penises? The participants insisted that they were just trolling, and they were…by pointing loaded guns at their dicks:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/28/holographic-nano-layer-catalyser/#musketfuckers

Plutocrats understand that there are limits to irony, and that at a certain point, irony poisoning becomes so acute that your rank-and-file literally start blowing their balls off. To relieve the pressure, plutes scapegoat other people based on their gender, sexual orientation, race, or nationality.

This provides an important resolution to the cognitive dissonance of meritocracy. The reason you’re doing so badly isn’t that you lack merit, it’s that affirmative action has elevated unworthy people to the positions that you deserve. You are a temporarily embarrassed millionaire — but the riches you deserve have been snaffled up by welfare queens and DEI consultants.

Cruelty isn’t the point of culture war bullshit: the point is power. Cruelty is merely the tactic:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/09/turkeys-voting-for-christmas/#culture-wars

Culture war bullshit is a very reliable way to get turkeys to vote for Christmas. Take the campaign against junk fees, which have ticketmastered every part of your life with “fees” for things like “paying your rent by check” and “not paying your rent by check”:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/30/military-industrial-park-service/#booz-allen

There is no broad constituency for junk fees. Scam artists (including scam artists in the C-suites of Fortune 100 companies) love them, sure, but junk fees make everyone else furious.

What’s a plutocrat to do? Well, it turns out that culture war bullshit can make right wingers point (metaphorical) guns at their own junk — all plutocrats need to do is put the word out that getting rid of junk fees is “woke” and low-information right-wing thumbsuckers will demand the right to be charged junk fees.

Here’s an example: one especially pernicious form of junk fee is the “swipe fees” that credit-card companies charge merchants. In an increasingly cashless age, these companies — dominated by the Visa/Mastercard duopoly — have figured out how to scrape 3–5% out of every single retail transaction in the entire fucking economy.

Every merchant you patronize has to charge more — or reduce quality, or both — in order to pay this Danegeld to two of the largest, most profitable companies in the world. Visa/Mastercard have hiked their fees by 40 percent since the pandemic’s start. Forty. Fucking. Percent. Tell me again how greedflation isn’t real?

A bipartisan legislative coalition, led by Senator Dick Durbin (D-IL) and Senator Roger Marshall (R-KS) have proposed the Credit Card Competition Act (CCCA), which will force competition into credit-card routing, putting pressure on the Visa/Mastercard duopoly:

https://www.congress.gov/bill/118th-congress/senate-bill/1838/text?s=1&r=3

This should be a no-brainer, but plute spin-doctors have plenty of no-brains to fill up with culture war bullshit. Writing in The American Prospect, Luke Goldstein unpacks an astroturf campaign to save the endangered swipe fee from woke competition advocates:

https://prospect.org/power/2023-08-04-wall-street-culture-war-swipe-fee-reform/

Now, this campaign isn’t particularly sophisticated. It goes like this: Target is a big business that runs a lot of transactions through Visa/Mastercard, so it stands to benefit from competition in payment routing. And Target did a mean woke by selling Pride merch, which makes them groomers. So by fighting swipe fees, Congress is giving woke groomers a government bailout!

It’s literally that stupid. It’s being pushed by a dark money group based in Kansas, which is targeting Senator Marshall’s constituents with mailers that warns voters they’ll “lose their credit card points” because he’s thrown his lot in with “liberal politicians”:

https://punchbowl.news/caf-marshall-mailer-kansas/

The fliers also warn that competition could result in “your financial data could be processed by partners of the Chinese Communist Party” (the bill bans foreign companies from routing transactions, and bans China UnionPay by name).

The fliers are anonymous. The only ghoul shameless enough to put his name on the campaign is Grover Norquist, whose Americans for Tax Reform tells its Christmas-voting-turkeys to “side with consumers, not woke retailers.”

The dark money org pushing this line have placed op-eds in newspapers across red states, comparing transaction routing competition to your kids’ data being snaffled up by Tiktok:

https://www.theflstandard.com/senators-rubio-and-scott-must-protect-the-personal-financial-data-of-floridians/

This nonsense was peddled by League of Southeastern Credit Unions president Samantha Beeler, whose org has spent $20,000 fighting the CCCA, claiming that a “cheaper” system would be “less secure”:

https://disclosurespreview.house.gov/ld/ldxmlrelease/2023/Q2/301493985.xml

But that’s small potatoes. Millions are being spent, right now, lobbying against CCCA — $5m from the American Bankers’ Association, $2m from the Credit Union National Association, another $400k from Mastercard.

For these rentiers, corrupting our government with millions is a stellar bargain if it lets them continue to collect rent every time we spend money. And millions of people who’ll end up paying that will demand the right to do so, provided they’re told that they’re fighting “woke capitalism” and China.

I'm kickstarting the audiobook for "The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation," a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and bring back the old, good internet. It's a DRM-free book, which means Audible won't carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

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/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

[Image ID: A mechanical credit card imprinter (AKA 'zipzap') emblazoned with a US flag Punisher logo. It is imprinting a blank credit-card slip with a red Visa card bearing the GOP logo. It sits on a weathered wooden plank table, stained a dark brown.]

#pluralistic #finance #junk fees #ripoffs #turkeys voting for christmas #culture war bullshit #useful idiots #visa #mastercard #swipe fees

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ozzgin · 6 months

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Yandere! Edward Scissorhands x Reader

On her quest to make at least one sale for the day, Avon lady Peg cautiously steps into the eerie mansion of a known inventor. She soon learns that it has long been devoid of life, with the exception of Edward, a synthetic human creation left unfinished. She returns to the bright suburbs accompanied by the poor young man, earning the curious stares of the bystanders. Among the colorful houses, however, Edward spots a gloomy dwelling that the neighbors seem to avoid. Who is the mysterious occupant?

Winner of the Halloween Poll! A short gothic romance in the style of Tim Burton, where two outsiders find solace in each other.

[Horror Masterlist]

The light yellow car slows down as it reaches the driveway and the engine stops. Peg makes her way out and hurries over to the passenger side, keys dangling between her fingers. She helps Edward out once she sees him awkwardly shuffling in the seat, unsure of his next step.

"You'll love it here. I just know it."

The woman hastily closes the door behind the tall, peculiar visitor. She places a gentle hand on his back and guides him down the asphalted path.

Edward's gaze briefly wanders further into the street. The houses are slithering along neatly, their vivid colors somewhat tiring to his unaccustomed eyes. Yet one of them sticks out. Strangely enough, it reminds him of home. A rusty iron fence surrounds the property, and patches of lush, unkempt vegetation creep through the bars. The walls are dark and crooked and the black tiled roof casts a shadow over the entire abode.

"Who lives there?" The question escapes his lips almost unconsciously.

Peg follows his gaze, eager to introduce the area to him. Once she settles on the source of his inquiry, her smile falters for a second.

"Oh, my. That's, well..." she lets out a forced laugh and encourages him to continue walking. "I'm glad you're already so curious, Edward dear. You'll get to know everyone soon, don't worry about it."

One more push and the guest has securely entered the house. As she prepares to twist the knob into a lock, she peeks out for the last time, surveying the surroundings with mild worry. A neighbor is walking their dog, whistling in the distance. As they approach the mysterious building, the animal begins to bark and the owner scurries to the other side of the street.

"He's so...strange!" one housewife exclaims, sipping on her lemonade.

Joyce is biting the temple tips of her sunglasses as she carefully inspects the dark haired man, currently using his sharp, spear fingers as barbecue skewers. She's batting her long eyelashes, entranced. She does like her men on the enigmatic side. In fact, she might just have a word with him. She folds the sunglasses and hangs them by the collar of her low-cut blouse. Of course, she doesn't forget her famous ambrosia salad as she departs from the rest of the fidgeting women.

"Ed, darling. You must try out my signature dish!" she daintily holds up a spoon and attempts to feed the pale newcomer.

He cautiously opens his mouth, unsure of how else to respond to the gesture. He tries to find Peg within the crowd, hoping she'll give him a new task away from this uncomfortably touchy person. And as luck would have it, his savior has come to the rescue. Peg doesn't hesitate to pull Edward away, cheerfully mumbling a domestic excuse.

Once freed from the shackles of awkward social interactions, the man tiptoes his way out of the yard and down the street. He doesn't like the constant murmur of people talking. He doesn't understand the jokes, the loud laughs, the complicit slaps on the back. He feels as if he's on the other side of a glass window, separated from an audience demanding cooperation despite him only being able to discern muffled, discontinued meaning.

None of this was mentioned in the Etiquette book. Or perhaps it has always been there, and the Inventor never got to the specific chapter. Died lamentably before he could explain how one navigates neighborhood BBQ parties.

Edward's step is clumsy and he doesn't have a particular direction in mind. In his scattered daze he nearly trips over something and turns around apologetically. You're sitting on the ground, resting against the fence. The book you were reading is now thrown aside, as you're too busy massaging the ankle that just got kicked by the sudden intruder. You look up, ready to scold the responsible airhead, but your eyes stop on an eccentric feature that catches your attention.

"What happened to your hands?"

You're a little embarrassed by your unexpected, tactless curiosity. The man seems entirely unfazed, however.

"They weren't finished. I'm incomplete."

"Hmm. Isn't everyone?"

Edward considers the question and recalls the people he's met so far. Peg and her husband. Joyce. The children.

"But they don't look unfinished. They have all the body parts."

You chuckle slightly at the literal observation.

"Well, you can't check them on the inside, can you? Most people have missing parts. Or broken ones."

"Where would you get it fixed, then?" Edward is startled by this new discovery.

"You learn to fix it yourself. Otherwise it just stays like that, maybe forever."

He lifts his hands and stares at them. Is he going to be like this forever, too? He hasn't pondered the concept of time much before Peg had found him. Yet now, 'forever' feels unsettling.

"Do your hands bother you that much?"

Edward doesn't know how to reply. He wishes he could resemble everyone else, that much is true. Then people wouldn't stare. And they wouldn't be afraid. As he mulls over the right words, he suddenly becomes aware of his surroundings. It's the house he noticed earlier, when he first arrived here. Which means...

He examines the person before him. They, too, look complete. So why?

"Why does everyone avoid this place?" He remembers the gathering he just left. "You weren't at the neighborhood party either. I thought all neighbors will show up."

"I was never invited."

"Why?"

You shrug.

"You're also not currently attending, are you? Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"I took a break. It's too loud. Can I sit here?"

Before you can answer, he drops himself next to you with a thud. His fingers swish together as he adjusts his posture.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot. What is your name? I'm Edward."

"Uhh... (Y/N)." You mutter, taken aback by his direct approach. What an odd fellow, you think to yourself.

"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)." As he scans your features again, he feels compelled to add, "You look rather pretty."

A faint blush takes over your face and you twirl your hair in an attempt to hide it. Is he mocking you? You genuinely can't read his intentions.

"You don't look too bad yourself, Edward. I think the hands add to your charm." You eventually find the confidence to blurt it out, quickly following up with a laugh.

His heart tightens and he almost forgets about his hazardous extremities, having to stop himself from touching his now throbbing chest. He's never malfunctioned before. It doesn't feel like anything is wrong, either. Your comment, for some reason, made him very happy.

(Y/N). Looking back to everything that happened, he's glad. Maybe he should thank Joyce next time he sees her. He wouldn't have met you otherwise.

As the sun begins to set, you remind Edward that it's impolite to leave a party for too long. He protests, stating he prefers your company. As flattered as you are, you rephrase it as Peg being worried about his sudden disappearance and he feels bad enough to agree on his early retirement. On the condition he can hang out with you again. Once you guarantee a reunion, he makes his way back home.

As he lays on Kim's bizarrely fluid mattress, tucked into the layered pastel sheets, Edward is overwhelmed by a strange, unfamiliar warmth. A wide, childish smile is plastered on his face and won't go away. Each time he closes his eyes to fall asleep, he pictures the encounter. (Y/N). It's a nice name, isn't it? He finds it particularly charming. He whispers it out loud in the dark room, as if making sure it's real. Reminding himself you're real.

He can't properly explain it. It's the same thick window that stands between him and the world, but you're next to him. An outsider. A rejection. The idea that someone else out there shares his struggle has cleansed him of any longing for acceptance. Why bother with a sea of foreign, smudged faces? Peg becomes Joyce, and Joyce fades into Marge, and they all become a generic crowd of smiling pleasantries. It's a funny thing, being among humans. Once he left his old mansion behind, he realized how truly alone he had been. Still, being surrounded by people he could not comprehend made him feel even more lonely. That is the tragedy; sitting at the grand table, empty handed, unseen, unheard. Misunderstood. No one's fault, really. It just happens. But every now and then, if fate so allows, one might just find another starved attendant. With the same glint in their eyes, of someone not belonging.

Oh, he can't wait to see you again.

It's unusually noisy outside for a late evening and you can't help but glance out the window. That's when you notice the roaring crowd, trampling in a hysterical march of unknown purpose. You have a bad feeling about it. The horned moon leers down at you like a bad omen and you quickly throw a jacket on, sprinting into the street.

"What's this all about?" you shyly ask the nearest group.

"Witch!" Esmeralda scowls at you with a pointing finger.

Peg notices the commotion and runs towards you, completely disregarding the prophetic warnings of the woman.

"Oh, (Y/N). It's Edward. They..." she sighs, frustrated. "I know I don't have the right to ask you this, but you're his friend. Could you please make sure he's alright?" Her voice is pleading and regretful.

You nod without saying anything else. Before you turn to leave, you swiftly gesture to Esmeralda, raising your index fingers up and mimicking a devilish look. She gasps and throws her hands together in prayer.

It had to be done.

Meanwhile, Edward has reached his old mansion and just now stopped in the entrance hall, panting anxiously. He feels nauseous and helpless. It's not that he's being chased by the enraged members of the neighborhood that alarms him. He cannot stand the possibility of not being in your presence ever again. How frightful, how agonizing! He claws at a nearby column in turmoil.

It can't be, it won't happen. He'll tear his way through the masses if he has to. Oh, what a terrible thought. His Inventor would roll in the grave if he knew the violent ruminations that plague him right now. But if he has no other choice...Would he go as far as taking someone's life if it was for your sake? Well, technically speaking, his sake, really. He wants to see you. He needs to.

Panic slowly creeps through his body. The thoughts are piling up in an erratic hum and he can't find his focus again. He paces back and forth, attempting to recollect himself, but there's an urgency that drowns him in cold sweat.

"Edward?"

The ringing stops. A switch has been flipped and he snaps his head in the direction of the voice. It's you. Completely spellbound, he extends his hand to touch your face, verifying whether you might be an illusion of his feverish desires instead. The blade pierces your skin, leaving a bright red trail behind.

"I'm so sorry-" he cries out, realizing his act.

You softly lower his hand with a reassuring smile.

"It's just a small cut. Don't worry about it. I think we have more important matters at hand, won't you agree?" you joke as you nudge your head towards the window.

"I spoke to the police officer on the way here, so we shouldn't have any surprise guests."

You remove your jacket and throw it over some dusty furniture before climbing up the stairs. Halfway through you briefly stop and urge Edward to join you. He simply nods.

When the issue is settled and everything has been said and done, will you return to your miserable exile? Won't the neighbors become suspicious if you're frequently seen sneaking up the hill? Perhaps even the utmost secrecy won't prolong the visits much.

And then what?

As he considers the potential scenarios, he becomes increasingly impatient. The joy of your return has been tainted by the impending doom of abandonment. He wishes you'd just stay with him here, forever.

Once the conclusion has been reached, he lets out a quiet apology. Maybe to you, maybe to the beloved Inventor, maybe even to himself. He inserts a finger into the entrance lock and silently twists it.

You must forgive him. Or at least try to understand him. He just loves you too much, (Y/N). Is it truly such a hideous crime? To want to keep you safe? If so, he will live with the guilt. But not without you.

You're home.

#edward scissorhands #edward scissorhands x reader #johnny depp x reader #tim burton #tim burton movies #halloween imagine #spooky season #yandere #yandere x reader #halloween

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vivalarevolution · 5 months

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𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻

Dark-Obsessive Neteyam x Reader

Request: „I love your works, and I am wondering if you could write dark-angst fic abt neteyam (aged-up obv). Maybe in a scenario where the reader does not like neteyam/sees him as a friend and likes someone else, which makes him jealous. It doesn't have to be nsfw, but I think it will be very fitting considering the theme of the story.‟

A/N: I have a weakness for dark characters. That's why when I was writing this request I couldn't resist and added a few things along with little changes, going beyond the content I was given from anon.

Not my best work but still I hope you will enjoy reading it and that you will like it. Remember, english is not my native language, grammatical errors will or may occur. Works also contains smut , and that's why please minors do not interact with it.

*Some characters have been aged up

She felt it, felt his burning gaze on every inch of her body. No matter where she moved, no matter how she bent, his eyes followed her ,devouring her. This sent a wave of shivers down her spine which spread all the way to her toes.

And when a pair of hands slid subtly over her ribs, the gaze on her body was no longer devouring, but burning, causing her a pain she couldn't forget.

-Your body is right here , with me. But where is your mind tìyawn? - a man asked her, tickling her earlobe with the air that escaped from his mouth.

-My mind is here as well , do not doubt it - she replied, placing her hand on his chest, when her eyes wander over his blue skin and the black tattoos that decorated it.

-Are you lying to your future Olo'eyktan? - he asked, cupping her chin in three large fingers, stroking the soft skin of her cheeks, his thumb tracing her full, kissable lips.

-I would never lie to you, Aonung - she stated quietly, grabbing his wrist, squeezing it gently.

-Yet you're avoiding telling me the truth - metkayina man said, trying to find the answer in her onyx pupils, which had dilated, now resembling a dark night sky that decorated her irises.

Suddenly, the eyes that had been staring at her disappeared, causing her skin to be covered with a long-forgotten coldness.

-There is nothing I am hiding from you - said the woman, involuntarily looking away towards the place where the one who had been watching her every move had recently stood.

But after her words, the person she was looking for so desperately was suddenly behind her, as if summoned. Hiding her silhouette with his massive body ,placing a large, rough hand on her hip, giving her the impression of a silent and sick announcement that she belonged to him, that she was his property.

-I hope I didn't interrupt anything important - he said politely, so politely that it almost sounded like a lie that hide his true intentions.

-No ,of course not my Olo'eyktan - the woman replied immediately, avoiding the gaze of both men.

In response, Neteyam placed two fingers under her jaw, forcing her to look into his golden eyes, which screamed one word - liar.

-Good , very good...in that case, I would like to talk to you - he announced, speaking to her as if they were alone, even though they were surrounded by a sea of people -...privately - he added, and his voice became lower, heavier, almost threatening.

She was unable to agree or refuse before the same hand that held her waist pulled her towards its owner, making her surrender and accept that she was trapped in a snare that was impossible to escape.

But even if she tried to escape, she knew she couldn't do it. She was too weak to disobey, too weak to oppose, and she hated how powerless she had become.

-Neteyam... - she whispered and almost immediately his attention focused on her -...you have to stop. I am begging you.

The man approached her, running his nose over the soft skin of her cheeks, inhaling her intoxicating scent that made him just want to be closer to her.

-I don't understand what you're talking about yawntutsyìp - he said, running his fingertips along her ribs and collarbones, stopping at the crook of her neck.

-My heart doesn't belong to you. I am not yours - the young woman said suddenly - I have never been Neteyam... and I never will be.

Her words made the hand around her neck tighten, not to choke her, but to give her a silent warning.

-Oh, but you are - he growled low in her ear - You are mine, you belong to me Y/n. No one else can have you - his words became more possessive, more dangerous - You said it yourself, I am your Olo'eyktan - he whispered, pressing his body against hers - That makes you my possession.

Y/n let her body go limp.

My possession echoed in her head, and the dark thoughts that had crept into her mind so long ago suddenly became the reality that stood right before her eyes.

-Whatever you feel for me, these emotions. They are dark, poisoned. They are deadly - she noticed, closing her eyes after a moment when in response Neteyam only wrapped his other hand around her figure, pulling her closer to him, so close that the warmth of their skins overlapped - This is not what love should look like.

The man looked straight at her.

-How do you know what love looks like? - he asked, and the hand that was holding her throat found itself on her jaw, holding her head in place - How do you know what my love looks like if you never let me show it to you? You never try to take it, to feel, to truly feel what my love for you feels like.

-If this is what your love is supposed to look like, then I don't want it - the young woman announced, looking directly into his golden eyes, which became shadowy, no longer hiding the darkness that smoldered deep inside men -Your love is like ivy that wraps around me and suffocates me every time I try to move, tightening more and more, so much so that it breaks my bones. This's what your love looks like.

- I'll show you what my love looks like - he growled , suddenly attacking her neck with his fangs , which almost immediately penetrated her skin , creating a bloody mark , that made a silent scream fell out of her mouth , and a shadow of tears appeared in her eyes.

After that Olo'eyktan moved away from her body , watching with a kind of pride what he had done , moments later pushing her against a tree, immediately hovering over her small body ,like a predator who had managed to capture its prey.

His hands touched her with extraordinary precision, giving the impression that he was everywhere, not allowing even one patch of Y/n skin to be untouched. Her shoulders , her hands , her ribs , her breasts , her hips , her thighs. His fingertips left behind a burning sensation that, instead of dying out like a barely smoldering flame, lasted like a wildfire that consumed not only her body but also her mind.

His lips glided over her soft skin , going lower and lower with each kiss , which left a wet trail and chills behind. Neteyam stopped only when he could taste her sweet arousal on his tongue , soaking her inner thighs and loincloth . Her material teased the skin of his face , which found its place on her womanhood. Therefore, his hands , still roaming over her body , found their place on her hips , just above the belt that held her lower garment , after a moment ripping it with great force , tearing it almost to pieces.

-No...no , Neteyam - she whispered, trying to push him away, even though her body trembled with growing excitement that she could not accept.

-Stop fighting oeyä yawne- he muttered, looking at her out of the corner of his eye as his lips brushed her pubic bone, coming dangerously close to her clitoris, which was swollen and wet, begging to be touched - Just give in -he whispered , before his tongue sank between her puffy folds ,tasting her as if she were the sweetest of fruits.

The woman moaned , and her body involuntarily went limp , now being poised by the man in front of her , feasting between her legs , devouring her and making her mind grow emptier and emptier , no matter how much she tried to resist it . Not when his lips roamed over her womanhood , touching her so well, as if he knew her better than she knew herself , which terrified her as much as it thrilled her.

-No...no...oh please stop...I can't - she babbled , as her own body began to refuse to obey her.

But he continued his assault , slurping her juices with great greed , making her orgasm approach uncontrollably fast , too fast . Y/n tried desperately to push Neteyam away from her , but he only clung to her more , lining his tongue deep into her canal , teasing her tight gummy walls , making stars appear before her eyes, while the lower part of the man's face was covered with a transparent liquid.

The young woman let her head drop involuntarily. Her eyes closed again and again , and her mind became completely foggy , unable to think, unable to escape.

-This is what my love for you is , my sweet syulang - he said tenderly , capturing her heated cheek in his large hand - You saw it , you wanted it , you needed it - he announced in a dark tone of voice , kissing the tears that began to run down her face - You truly wanted it , your truly wanted to be mine...forever - he whispered , encircling her tired body with his arms , drawing her toward him , nestling her body into his.

And Y/n allowed him to do so. She allowed him to kiss the crown of her head, she allowed him to bring their kuru together, making them into a unity that even though it wasn't supposed to exist had just been born, finally making her his. Truly his. Forever.

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thedovesaredying · 3 months

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Monsters in the Dark | Nikto x Reader | Part 1

First "official" part of Nikto x Reader fic set in the cowboy AU originally created by @ghouljams once again staring our darling Sputnik. Makes a lot more sense if you read the prologue which can be found linked below.

A/N: Did I spend several hours watching Kevin Richardson videos with him hanging out with his hyenas while writing this? Yes. Do I regret it? Absolutely not. This also ended up a lot longer than I was expecting lmao.

Warnings: Depictions of Minor Medical Procedures.

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

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When working as a rural vet there’s a surprising amount of driving involved. Travelling from the clinic to farms and huge properties miles and miles away for in-person appointments and consultations can understandably take several hours out of your day. Most of the time you don’t even have working cell service to help guide you to your destination and you’re forced to either memorise the route beforehand or turn to your old reliable map.

You’re new to the area, having decided to spend some time travelling across the US for the potential experience it could offer you. You’ve done plenty of work on stations in the north of Australia, helping jackaroos to manage any illness within their herds, always moving from place to place, and so Texas seemed like the perfect place to start your travels.

While training, however, you had been given an offer to travel to South Africa to work with the numerous wildlife there both on reserves and in zoos. It was the best year of your life and ignited a passion for working with exotic animals.

Travelling the US for work was an exciting opportunity to help rural communities with their livestock and to work with the numerous native species you’ve never had the chance to encounter in your everyday life. This little town was just another step on your travels and, so far, hadn’t really stood out to you more than any other small town.

So, it isn’t out of place for you to be driving down a lengthy driveway through the woods and pulling up to a rundown old house. What is strange, is the huge creature sitting at the top of the porch.

The hyena is massive. It’s powerfully built with pure muscle, and no doubt would be able to tear you to pieces if it chose to. It’s so distracting that for a long time you don’t even notice the huge man standing beside your car. He looks just as strong as the hyena sitting behind him and you’re not sure how you missed his approach.

When the lady at the front desk informed you that there was a gentleman asking for a veterinarian with experience handling exotics, you were thinking perhaps a rare lizard, or an uncommon species of parrot. What you weren’t expecting was to see an adult hyena staring you down.

You’re more than a little reluctant to leave the safety of the vehicle, but upon receiving a jerk of the head from the man, you cautiously exit the car. Not once do you take your eyes off the predator while you quickly grab your bag from the backseat.

Having dealt with hyenas before, you know better than to show any kind of fear, forcing your shoulders down from your ears and starting to take calm, deep breaths. You offer your name to who you presume is the animal’s owner and hold out a hand for him to shake.

The man, “Nikto,” as he grunts to you, takes your hand after a moment and gives it a firm shake. You’re used to farmers having a strong grip, so you simply offer the man a bright grin. “I take it this is the patient?” you ask, nodding your head toward the hyena in question.

The man is clad head to toe in all-black clothing. Typical cowboy hat, black denim jeans, and a shirt that has a high collar and sleeves that reach all the way down to his wrists where they meet with a pair of leather gloves. All regular clothing, albeit a little dark for such a hot climate, but what really sets him apart is the dark neck gaiter covering most of his features.

You would think it odd for him to be hiding his face on his own property, but you’ve heard that there’s several other ex-military men in the town that also prefer bandanas or masks to showing their bare faces. It looks intimidating, especially given just how huge the guy is, but at the end of the day he’s your client and it isn’t your place to judge.

“да,” Nikto nods, “this is Sputnik.” He looks you up and down, before asking, “you are comfortable with her, yes?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ve worked with hyenas before,” you confirm. That, unfortunately, doesn’t make it any easier or less nerve-wracking to be so close to an unrestrained predator. Normally, there’s at least a fence between you and any of the wildlife you’re treating, but hopefully the animal is somewhat friendly given it’s allowed to roam free.

At your confirmation, he lets out a sharp whistle and snaps out a harsh, “КО МНЕ!” Causing the animal to leap to her feet and sprint across the grass to her owner’s side.

You try not to jump when Sputnik runs directly toward you but manage to keep a handle on your reactions. Much to your relief, however, rather than tackling you to the floor and tearing your throat out, the hyena starts laughing excitedly and running circles around you. She’s clearly very curious, stopping every few seconds to try and sniff at you from a distance.

You can imagine it would be an intimidating sight for anyone who has never encountered a hyena before, but she’s clearly just excited to meet someone new. “Is she normally this excited to meet new people?” you ask, unable to resist the smile that grows on your face as Sputnik starts to playfully nip at Nikto’s legs.

The man huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, “no.”

You’re beginning to understand that Nikto is not one for making conversation.

As Sputnik calms again, you watch her wander around the area. The issue becomes clear to you quite quickly in the form of a slight limp on one of her hind legs. She seems to otherwise be bright, alert and responsive, only the sore leg causing her problems.

You run through the basic questions about the problem, how long it’s being going on, and how her behaviour has been recently. You quickly take notes on her previous medical history while keeping an eye on Sputnik. After taking down her information, you ask Nikto to bring her to one of the old sheds so you can begin the exam.

She’s a beautiful hyena, and despite not having the behaviour of a domesticated dog, she can somewhat follow her owner’s commands. After seeing Nikto tapping the top of one of the tables, she hops up into a bench for you to more easily inspect her body.

With Sputnik firmly restrained by her owner, you gently reach out for her hind paw. You softly palpate the area, taking note of the large amount of swelling, particularly in the area between two of her toes. After glancing up to ensure she isn’t getting too stressed, you pull apart the toes, spotting a nasty yellow lump of what is presumably infection.

As you check over the area, you notice something black sticking out of the wound. With your trusty pair of tweezers you take hold of the object and begin to gently tease it out of the swollen mass. Sputnik’s leg twitches slightly, clearly not happy about someone touching her sore paw, but after a few soft words of encouragement she settles once again.

Your grip on the object slips a few times, but eventually you’re able to pull it free. It’s a nasty thorn, a whole inch in length that was buried in the poor animal’s foot. Just removing it causes a flood of pus to begin squirting from the wound and you’re thankful for the medical gloves you’re wearing, because it is far from a pleasant smell.

Sputnik whines, trying to pull her paw away again, but with your client still holding her head in place you can continue to express the rest of the fluid without causing her much more distress. With a small syringe of saline, you quickly flush out the remaining chunks of hardened infection until the liquid runs clear.

It’s a small enough opening that she won’t need the wound packed or any stitches to keep it closed. Instead, you spray the area with a thick layer of Blu-Kote to prevent any further infection.

“I'll need to give her a quick antibiotic injection to make sure it won’t come back, just make sure she’s restrained, okay?” You receive a grunt of acknowledgement, then provide the needed shot. Sputnik tries to turn and snap at you, but with Nikto in the way she ends up biting at thin air and growling in frustration.

You gently rub at the hyena’s back with a loving coo, “what a brave girl, you did so well!”

After being released she turns to regard you for a moment, before squealing happily and trying to lick at your face. It seems you’re already forgiven for your cruel transgressions against the poor girl. “Looks like this was the cause of the trouble,” you explain, briefly showing Nikto the old thorn you’d removed.

Nikto turns his gaze to Sputnik, rolling his eyes before gently cuffing her around the back of the head. “Долбоеб,” he mutters, ignoring the way she starts to playfully bite at one of his gloved hands.

You’re not entirely sure what he said, but no doubt it’s some sort of insult. Not that Sputnik seems to care, hopping down from the table and trotting around the barn as if the last ten minutes didn’t occur.

“I gave her a strong antibiotic, but spotted hyenas are pretty notorious for their infections being resistant to treatment, so if she starts getting worse or isn’t improving then be sure to give me a call and we’ll look at if there’s anything we need to do,” you explain, keeping an eye on how Sputnik moves on her feet now.

“Understood,” the man nods, standing ramrod straight with his arms crossed over his chest.

Clearly this man still isn’t very interested in a conversation, given he has nothing further to add and almost seems to be pointedly ignoring you. It’s a little uncomfortable, but he’s certainly not the first... interesting character you’ve dealt with in your career and he won’t be the last. “Do you have any other questions about the treatment?” you ask.

“нет,” he grunts, before quickly adding, “no.”

You nod, offering the man a genuine smile, “well, I’m glad I could help out.” You remove your gloves and quickly start packing away the tools you’d been using, “the office will send through an invoice to your email, so you can pay online or head down to the clinic to pay in person.”

He just nods, watching you silently as you finish up collecting your tools and placing them back away into your bag. His eyes seem to burn into you, his icy gaze piercing through your body and directly into your very soul. You’re not sure how comfortable you are having your innermost self so openly exposed to someone you’ve only just met, but quickly shake off the feeling.

As soon as you’re finished packing, you pull out one of your personal cards, handing it to Nikto. He stares at the piece of cardboard for a long moment, and you quickly explain, “my card, it’s got my number on it in case you ever need help.” You can’t imagine how difficult it must be for him to find someone with genuine experience treating large predatory animals and you’re more than happy to offer as much of your expertise as he wants.

Nikto awkwardly goes to reach for the card with one of his hands, only to pause midway and reach for it with the other one. He fleetingly glances over the card, then tucks it into one of his shirt pockets.

While you make your way back to your car, Nikto calls Sputnik back over and ensures the animal walks at his heels. She doesn’t seem happy with this command, whining and laughing as she looks between her master and you. She very obviously wants to run after you and play but knows better than to ignore her owner.

Sputnik sits next to Nikto as the man watches you quickly pack everything back into your car. She keeps looking between you and Nikto, as if silently begging him to allow her to go back to you for more attention, but he stands strong against her sad eyes. It’s cute, really, since it likely means that weaponized puppy dog eyes are an effective tool in getting the stoic man to crumble if she’s still attempting to use them against him.

Before you hop into the car you give Sputnik a wave, laughing when she cries at you. “Bye, sweetheart!” you coo again, before offering her owner a wave and a smile.

Looking into the rear-view mirror on your way back toward the main road, you can see both Nikto and Sputnik watching you leave. They’re an odd pair, but it’s been a while since you had the chance to work with such a beautiful animal and you can’t help looking forward to seeing both her and her strange human again sometime soon.

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #reader insert #fanfic #call of duty nikto #nikto x reader #cowboy au

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kineticpenguin · 6 months

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i heard about the killdozer guy but what about the rooftop koreans?

During the LA riots in 1992 the LAPD abandoned minority neighborhoods, leaving the locals to fend for themselves. Some Korean families posted up on the roofs of their buildings to protect their businesses with guns. Without any other context, they've become something of a right-wing gun culture meme. Y'know, the whole "model minority defending their property against the savage hordes with glorious firearms" sorta thing, you can see the marketing appeal.

(And I do mean marketing quite literally, there are tons of Roof Korean merch churned out on Internet shops).

The thing is, this is a somewhat whitewashed version of events. Racial tensions had been inflamed between the local black and Korean communities recently, most intensely by the killing of Latasha Harlins by a Korean store owner, Soon Ja Du. Du accused Harlins of stealing juice even though she had money in hand to pay, initiated a physical conflict, and then shot Harlins in the back of the head when she was trying to flee the store. Du received a suspended sentence for manslaughter: five years' probation and 400 hours of community service, plus a $500 fine and Harlins' funeral costs. The killing is widely seen as a contributing factor to the 1992 riots, especially with regard to Koreatown being targeted.

As for the actual defensive actions by the "Rooftop Koreans," in practice it was kind of a disaster.

What's more, if you talk to the actual Koreans who were out there that day, they don't see anything to celebrate about it. If anything, they found the abandonment to be a wake-up call with regard to their standing in society: Second-class and fully expendable.

But because of the sanitized version of history that became a meme, you can guarantee every time there are mass protests and riots, some douchebags are going to run in, drop their pants, and start furiously cranking their hogs, moaning "we need roof Koreans!" for the duration.

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mrskokushibo · 11 months

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Common Interest

Douma x Fem!Reader

I NSFW I 18+ I MDNI I

Synopsis: (Modern AU) There is nothing wrong with the routine of day to day life, but there is a wild side in all of us that needs to be unleashed...will Douma help you do just that?

Warnings: Smut. Mild BDSM. Shibari. Spanking. Oral sex. Anal play. Nipple play. Vaginal sex. Sex toys. Temperature play. Mild Dom!Douma. Modern AU.

A/N: Happy Birthday, my gorgeous friend ❤️ 💗💖💖💕@doumadono ! This is a small belated B-day gift for you. I hope my take on Douma is to your satisfaction.

Word count: 3597

Masterlist

Gif by @kyoujuro Thank you!

Banner by @cafekitsune

Intense pleasure, like waves of an unruly ocean, was flowing through you, trapped in the confines of flesh and blood, making the latter boil and course through your system reaching every muscle and stimulating every nerve. The friction of his penis against your wet, spasming walls, the soft kisses and insatiable hands trying to touch every inch of you, this was not just sex, this was worship. You were drowning and being taken down to may it be heaven or hell by your very own fallen angel. You knew you could not be without…

……..

The neighbourhood you moved to was the quintessence of quiet suburbia, maybe a little too quiet and far away from your favourite place, the bustling city centre, but this was all you could afford for now and there was nothing to complain about, not really. Apart from maybe, that you were single and the overwhelming majority of your neighbours were families and retirees. However, it was close to work, shops, parks, and your favourite gym. You did love the buzz and action of the city, especially on the weekends after dark, but it was nice to stay away from the noise as well. Although, you did feel lonely and, well, you had your needs after all. Little did you know, that your calm and uneventful life was about to change.

Saturday morning began as usual, with you feeding your cat and having your coffee at the dinner table by the front window. It was spring and you had your window open, inhaling the fresh scent of the air and listening to birds chirping. It was early enough that none of the perfect families was venturing out to kids’ activities yet. Suddenly, the tranquillity was interrupted by the roar of an approaching motorbike. The sound was harsh and brutal in contrast to the idyllic sounds of weekend morning suburbia. It was annoying and you could not wait for it to stop, but instead, the noise grew louder, with the appearance of the said motorbike around the street corner. The bike continued toward your house and stopped on the neighbouring property’s driveaway. The property was for sale for a while and just the other week a sold sign came up.

The bike was impressive: huge, of a sports model, black with red and gold details, but what really caught your attention was its owner. A tall, slim, what looked like a quite fit man dressed in black leather racing overall stepped off the machine. Long streaks of pale blond hair fell down his shoulders from underneath the helmet that carried the matching colour scheme of the bike. You were staring. Literally staring. When he finally took off his helmet, you nearly dropped your coffee mug. He had the face of an angel, with layered, white-blond hair framing his face. You could not see his eyes properly, but there was a glint of rainbow reflecting in them when he looked up from his bike. Was this your new neighbour?

After he disappeared inside the house, you went about your business with grocery shopping being first on your agenda. When you came back, there was a large removalist truck outside. As you stepped out of your car, the blond man appeared out of the house together with two moving firm workers. He looked your way, smiled, and waved and that is when you saw it, his eyes…. They were rainbow-coloured with a happy expression and together with his adorable smile, you were nearly floored.

The weekend flowed on, with your usual activities while the typical building and recently moved-in sounds from next door were the sonic backdrop.

You did not see much of your new neighbour throughout the week as you had a lot to catch up with at work and booked dinners with some friends you have not seen in a while. Friday night, just when you were venturing out into the city, you saw a woman arrive at your new neighbour’s house. A natural sting of jealousy caught you off guard. He was taken, of course. What else did you expect from someone like that? Quickly, you changed the focus of your thoughts and proceeded to have a great night with your friends.

Come Saturday night, a woman arrived at his door again. But…it was someone else than the one last night. Hmm. A sister, a friend? It could not have been as once again, you could see her leave in the morning, just like that other woman did. He was a bit of a player then. Not surprising. The following weekend, your suspicions were confirmed as once again, two completely new women visited his place and stayed overnight. In some way, you were relieved. At least he was not taken, right?

You woke up earlier than usual on the following Monday and decided to water the small flower bed in front of your house since you had some time to spare. Still sleepy, you did not notice that you had company, your new neighbour was outside cleaning his bike.

‘Good morning, neighbour’

You turned around startled only to be met with a brilliant smile and sparkly rainbow eyes directed toward you.

‘Good morning.’ You replied.

He jumped over the low, symbolic fence dividing your houses and came closer to you.

‘I am Douma. It is nice to finally meet you.’

‘Nice to meet you too, Douma. I am y/n.’

After a short chat, he blurted out

‘Hey, come over tonight, won’t you? We could have some pizza and beers if you like junk food, that is’ he laughed.

‘Oh, I love junk food and don’t worry, I will work it out at the gym if I have too much’ You grinned.

‘Cool, see you tonight. 6.30 pm?’

‘Yeah, see you then’ you answered.

Your pretend calm washed off you as soon as you went back inside. ‘Oh my god, oh my god! I am going to be one on one with him tonight!’ You were trying to figure out how to get off work earlier just to get properly ready.

The day went by fast and all jumpy and excited you were now standing outside of his door waiting for him to let you in.

And there he was, smiling and chatty. His living room was, well more or less a classic bachelor’s den with a large sofa, oversized tv and sound system, posters of motorbikes and no plants as far as you could see. He was about to order pizza and while you both waited for it to be delivered, you were downing beer at a fast pace. He was super easygoing and talkative, so the hours went by quickly. Before you were about to go home you asked him to show you his house, it was essentially a copy of yours so you were curious about what he has done to make it his. As you were walking through the corridor, you passed a closed room, a version of which you turned into a study in your own house. He kept on walking, but you stopped and asked:

‘What’s in here?’

‘Hmm, nothing special really’ he replied.

‘Oh, common, show me, it cannot be that bad unless you store dead bodies in there, I just want to see what you have done to it. Back at my place, I turned that room into a study and it is becoming a favourite of mine now.’

He was hesitant for a moment, but then he gave you a quick top to toe glance and stopped at your tight leather pants…

‘Ok then, but remember I warned you’ he said with a grin.

He slowly opened the door and flicked the light switch. What suddenly got exposed to your eyes made you gasp, it was…. a sex room. A swing, a large bed covered with black bedsheets, all kinds of restraints, toys, whips, handcuffs, etc, were neatly hung on the walls, together with a few beautiful fantasy and hentai erotica artworks. You were speechless, your thoughts racing. Your body reacted as well … you could feel your nipples harden and the sudden clench of your pelvic muscles contracting. The coil in your stomach tightened and your pussy was slowly on the verge of aching, you were speechless.

You were interrupted from taking in the sight by Douma:

‘Are you going to run away now?’ he smirked.

But he was also blushing, the man with a sex room in his house was blushing… It was almost adorable.

‘No, no, it is ok. I just did not expect this.’

He tilted his head and smiled with his eyes narrowing a little

‘So, maybe, you like what you see then…?’

You were looking him in the eyes now and your need was slowly reaching the thin line of no return.

‘I do. I do like it.’

There was something more you wanted to say, but were slightly too shy to. However, you started to notice something darker behind the sparkly rainbow of his eyes and that encouraged you to whisper out:

‘I’m actually into light bondage and that sort of stuff.’

He studied your face now and after a moment of hesitation said

‘Well then, how about a session on Friday night.’

Nothing could really surprise you anymore at this stage. You knew ‘that’ required some prep, but you were needy now… You stepped closer to him and as if understanding your wishes, he put his arms around you, lowered his head and kissed you. Your body responded instantly, anticipation of more was flooding through you as large hands slid down on your leather-clad ass. You moaned lightly and that is when he pulled away.

‘Mmm, it feels good, right? But you know what, let us build up some extra tension and wait until Friday.’

You were disappointed, but it was getting late and both of you were starting early tomorrow so you had to comply with his surprisingly responsible plan.

The rest of the week went painfully slow for your liking. You just could not wait. You made sure to prep yourself for Friday with the appropriate toys and gadgets. You also got hold of a stunning outfit. You were more than ready. And then finally, it was Friday and you were standing outside of Douma’s door.

…

The feeling of his hands roaming all over your body was exhilarating. His large hands were gliding on the oiled latex of your sexy outfit and on your supple skin. He was kissing you all over your neck and back up to your pouting lips, just to snake his tongue between them to claim the inside of your mouth. His tongue found yours and you were soon devouring each other. It was like being completely consumed by his being, your legs going weak and your head blindly following his movement. It was like a dance, an instinctive primal rhythm setting the pace for your bodies to follow. You soon found yourself lying flat on the bed with him mounting you. He kept on kissing and caressing every inch of your body, carefully avoiding any of the parts that truly craved his attention. His face was like an angel’s, with a halo of white hair illuminated by the warm light of candles spread all around the room. You were ready for more, no, you craved it, every touch, every move placing an invisible seal on you, a promise of what would be to come. In a natural way, you showed your submission and the only information he needed to know now was a safe word:

‘lotus’ you moaned out looking him in the eye.

The seal fell and it was time for the ritual to begin. He got up from between your legs and went to pick up a few items from the wall, the quiet clanking of chains and metal was soothing to your senses, the soundtrack of awaiting pleasure. Slowly and gently, he put on a choker collar on your neck with an attached leash to it and yanked it gently to check if it tightened correctly. Without him needing to give instruction you positioned yourself on all four with your mouth facing him. He now removed his tight black latex boxer shorts and his large and hard erection sprang out in front of your face. You were just about to touch his cock, when his soft voice commanded you in a whisper:

‘Hands not allowed, my dove. Only your mouth.’

He moved closer to you and placed the leaking tip of his cock on your lips. He smeared the precum on them and started to push them open, something you complied with immediately. The choker tightened around your neck as he pulled the leash toward him, leaving just enough air to breathe, but making you almost dizzy while he started pumping his cock into your mouth. Your tongue was sliding up and down his shaft while his pumping motion continued. Once again, he was very gentle, making sure you would not gag, not yet, anyway. Your eyes were fixated on his face as if in worship, as if he was your god, and maybe, he was about to become just that for you.

After pulling out from your mouth he took the ball gag and with fingers moving in and out of your mouth, he slowly worked you up to take it. With the gag secured, he put a blindfold on you and, he moved around to your backside, holding firmly onto the leash, he was also carrying a riding crop and a leather flogger. He placed the riding crop on the bed and soon you felt the light sting of the leather strips on your backside, he was not hitting hard, just hard enough to make your back arch in pleasure. He kept on landing these light hits on your ass, making sure some of the leather hit between your legs. This teasing was driving you insane, your muffled moans coming out with increasing frequency.

He now changed the tool and soon you experienced the familiar sting of the tip of the riding crop hitting your soft flesh and leaving marks. This was something you loved, you hoped he would soon land a hit somewhere more sensitive, and sure enough, he did, a much lighter strike, a tap really landed on your folds just over your clitoris and another tap aimed at your buttplug- a beautiful piece adorned with a rainbow gem. You were squirming in pleasure, your slick dripping down your thighs, waiting to welcome his manhood to enter you. As if he could read your thoughts, he positioned himself behind you and placed the tip of his cock at your entrance. The movement of his entry was painfully slow, for every inch he conquered he stopped and ground in place, to tease you, to tease himself and prolong the ritual. As you felt him bottom out in you, he released a loud moan, it was lascivious and sexy. He started thrusting into you while tightening the leash, making your whole-body arch. The thrusts were getting stronger and soon enough, he pulled you hard so that your back was now against his chest and with a loud moan he orgasmed inside you, shooting thick ropes of cum into you.

You were also close and wanted nothing else than to come, but you trusted his lead and knew that the edging would grant you a release capable of making you pass out. While pulling out of you he released the grip on the leash, with a featherlike stroke dragged his hand along your back and onto the collar to remove it along with the ball gag. He massaged your lips and the inside of your mouth with his fingers, making you moan and imagining the same movement, but on your folds instead…

He helped you up and started carefully to remove your lingerie: he untied the Pleaser ankle boots and slid them off your feet as if you were a princess, he unclipped your latex stockings from the garter and rolled them down your legs, last to come off was your cupless latex bustier. Now completely naked, you were eagerly awaiting his next move. He had the riding crop in his hand again and was tracing lines all over you with it. With his other arm, he stretched out to the wall and took down a shibari rope. This excited you; you have experienced bondage before, but never shibari.

He started working on you with meticulous precision, you were slowly becoming an artwork for him to admire, the red rope twining itself in an intricate pattern all over your body. Once he was done, he pulled down the swing/suspension device and strapped you to it and then slowly started to lift you up. You could not help but notice that the rope was tied perfectly, none of it hurt you in any way while your body was suspended in the air. Instead, the intense pressure made you feel cradled and needy. He then took out a pair of adjustable nipple clamps and started to tighten them on your sensitive beads.

The clamps were squeezing your nipples more and more until the sensation reached that sweet spot of almost making you come and you whispered ‘lotus.’ A signal for him to stop tightening. He reacted immediately and you were left with the intense pleasure making your whole-body arch. He was now about to grant your wish of release, slowly spreading your folds with his hands and rubbing the slick-covered area between them. You could feel the deep and visceral sensation of him twisting and removing your buttplug, replacing it with a vibrator. Soon, he was inserting a vibrator in your vagina, so that his hands would be free to play more.

You could hear a match being lit and the scent of melting wax hit your nostrils. Your back arched in the ecstasy of pain when the hot wax was poured on your skin. Drop by drop, the heat was stimulating your nerve endings and sending signals to your already overstimulated brain and back to your vagina and cervix that were now responding with spasming muscles causing your arousal to make you lose all control. Your screams and moans were making him harder too, he put aside the candle and tightened the nipple clamps causing you to moan like a savage.

He then lowered the hoist so that his hips were on the level of yours and slowly, with a delicate pumping motion causing squelching sounds, removed the vibrator from your pussy and pushed himself into you again. This time he was making sure to position you so that he could hit your g-spot with every thrust, he was holding the rope with one hand to stabilise you and the other was rubbing your wet folds and clitoris. Slowly at first, but when your moans were getting louder, he increased the pressure and speed of his movement. With all this, together with the anal vibrator at full speed, you were being guided toward your own climax. When it came, you screamed for what felt like an eternity, your body shaking, your genitals spasming and you squirted all over Douma’s cock, abs and hips. You were nearly spent. You whispered ‘lotus’ again and he looked at you in the most innocent of ways, tilting his head in question.

‘Yes, I think I would like you to untie me now.’ You moaned out.

He lowered the hoist and spent the next few minutes untying you gently. You were splayed on the bed, still panting from the intense climax, and shifting your gaze from the rainbow of his eyes to his magnificent full erection. You stretched out your arm to him and he climbed on the bed next to you while pushing down all toys and tools off it. As soon as he was lying next to you, you straddled him and whispered

‘Now, I want to do this instead’ and you grabbed his cock, and slid yourself down onto him until he was fully buried inside of you.

You moaned and started riding him, your tits bouncing and him grabbing them and squeezing just hard enough to make you moan louder. The pleasure you were now both experiencing was intimate, there was something more there than just pure sex, you leaned forward so that your whole upper body was now on his chest and you leaned your forehead on his while bucking your hips back and forth. You moved your head to his neck and nibbled him gently, you nibbled his ear, his lips, and pressed your forehead to his again. The position always made you come and you were close, and so was he. He started to roll your nipple between his fingers and when you arched your neck backwards in pleasure, he started sucking on the other one. Your second orgasm flushed over you like a tsunami with him coming straight after you. You lay in each other arms in complete silence for a while, listening to the quiet crackling of fire from the candles.

After a while, his large hand lifted your small one to his lips for a soft kiss as he asked:

‘Will I see you tomorrow? No bdsm though, let us keep that as a weekly treat.’

‘I would like that very much’ you whispered back.

Your instincts told you that this was the start of something beautiful and now, finally, the neighbourhood did not feel as dull anymore …

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Tagging my lovelies 💖: @muzansfangs @doumadono @muzanswaifu @tired-writer04 @fuckkyourlife @koku-shibou /@kokusfluffyhair @koyuki-the-flower @sunsblaze @yoriichiskatana @paintoreos @doumaslotus

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deadmotelsusa · 2 months

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The Green Acres Court of Dallas, Texas opened in 1950, at a time when Dallas was 90% white, and closed in the late 70s, after co-owner Redmon Revis died.

At one time, it was one of the only motels in the city that welcomed black people and was featured in the Green Book. Prominent guests included Ray Charles and Etta James. The city's Landmark Commission briefly pushed to save it but when that didn't work, it was suggested that the new owners erect some sort of memorial to recognize the motel's significance instead.

It was replaced by a new development. Not saying it doesn't exist but I was unable to locate a memorial on the property.

#green acres court #dallas #texas #then and now #deadmotelsusa #green book #black history

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panickedpenguin · 6 months

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I am melting with the idea of Billy arriving in Hawkins later, after everything's said and done, people have died, like kids have died, and Steve is a depleted mess of a person who is desperate for soft things to ease his nightmares. Steve doesn't talk much, doesn't wear bright colors or flirt anymore, only ever hangs out with the screaming panic attack that is Robin.

Max begins to make friends with Lucas and Dustin, filling the void that is the loss of El and Will, being introduced to Mike who lives in the long-term ward of the hospital. Max meeting Steve and being suspicious of how quiet and sad he is, like he might kill somebody, like he might kill himself, because she's only ever known rage and never depression.

And then there's Billy. Billy coming in hot and bothered by this guy who used to be the town sweetheart, used to be the high school basketball star, apparently used to have a real nice car. But now he's a ghost, wandering around the police station doing secretarial work that just doesn't make sense to Billy. And that's how Billy gets to know him first, at the station. He's given a speeding ticket every week, he's fined for disturbing the peace and nearly arrested for disassembling a car engine on public sidewalks. But also for Billy's business permit and purchase of property and some tax debauchle including the previous owner of a 1976 chevy pickup. Billy was working hard to open his own garage and build a clientele of hobbyists and car builders. All this to say, he didn't want to be thinking about the sad eyes of some cop-wanabe.

None the less, he tries to get those eyes to show some other emotion. He tries to make Steve laugh, or grimace, or even get a good eye roll. When his small jokes and barbs don't work, Billy escalates to teasing and name calling. Some days, what Billy thinks must be the worst days, Billy has to resort to shoving Steve's folders onto the ground and calling him stupid for doing a woman's job just to get his eyes to show anything but black.

There's one time he manages to make Steve cry. There's one time he makes Steve grin and blush. It's a lot. Billy realizes he has a big fat crush and it's driving him mad.

So I'm melting at the thought of Steve learning how to feel emotions again, how to feel safe in his feelings and accepted as a person, all wrapped in the softest blankets while bad boy Billy kisses the top of his head and tells him to hush up, they're getting to the best part.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #just my ramblings #a depressing slow burn of softness

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brighter-by-the-daly · 6 months

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Rachel Daly x Reader

New to the Neighbourhood

AN: Inspired by a conversation with @hernightsky over these photos 🫶

Pulling up on the driveway you took a moment to look up at the house in front of you before getting out, soaking up the moment you were finally moving in to your first home. You felt excited but a little overwhelmed with how quickly everything had happened and now you’re on your own, no more mum and dad there to help you 24/7 but you knew they would only be a phone call away. You’ve never lived by yourself before and now you have an entire building to play with! You had chosen a new build and had been involved with all the decisions regarding furnishing the property before you moved in; it was in a new residential area, a close with terraced houses in a square around the cul-de-sac. Everyone had brightly coloured flowers in their garden, wreaths on the front door and the neighbours seemed super friendly when you came for viewings.

“Smile!” shouted your mum suddenly jolting you out of your daydreaming about where you were going to put everything, spinning around you grabbed the SOLD sign out of the ground and held it excitedly for a photo in front of your home before slotting the key into the front door for the first time. Your parents immediately created a line from the van to the doorstep - your dad unloaded, your mum ferried and you put the boxes in the rooms they belonged in. Neighbours came and went wishing you well while welcoming you to the neighbourhood, one even made you cups of tea as you hadn’t found the kettle yet.. you knew you were gonna love it here. Your parents stayed overnight to help you unpack and settle in, the next day they left after helping you set up your bills and direct debits. You ordered a food shop and got to work with putting your own stamp on the property, driving to a homeware store and picking up the paint and wallpaper you’ve had your eyes on for months.

Sitting in the middle of your newly painted bedroom you worked well into the early morning to finish, you started to remove the rollers from your hair when you heard a familiar rattle outside. “Shit!” scrambling to your feet and throwing your robe on, you swiped the rubbish from the surfaces into a black sack and desperately tried to make sure you got outside before the bin men left, throwing the front door open in a hurry to see they had already turned the corner and were driving away. “Fuck!” you shouted into the morning sun, annoyed that you hadn’t thought to check when the rubbish was collected beforehand. Hearing a cackle come from a distance you squinted to see who was laughing at you, “they come every week yknow!” a sarcastic voice called from the other side of the close, shielding your eyes from the sun to see a figure standing in their driveway. “Yeah” you replied begrudgingly with a limp smile and a roll of your eyes, throwing the bag to the side of your garden before making a deflated walk back into your house. As soon as the door slammed shut your reasoning returned - your neighbour was right, they do come every week, no need to be upset about it.. it just felt like you failed your first task at being a home owner. Your dad always used to take the rubbish out, it was something you didn’t have to think about and it’s not your fault you didn’t know what day it was.

Calling out to Alexa to play your favourite radio station your anger soon floated away with the sunrise as you finished doing your hair and make up, hanging clothes in your wardrobe and picking an outfit out for tonight. Your friends were coming over for a house warming party and you had been keen for it to be a gathering with not too many people, you didn’t want your carpets getting ruined already! But your friends insisted they had to christen the moment the first of the friend group moved out of their parent’s house. You’d been saving up since you were 18 and because England has awful mortgage rules it had taken you over a decade to finally get enough for a deposit. So they’re right, you do deserve to be celebrated! This is a milestone not everyone achieves in their lifetime and you had worked incredibly hard to get here, especially on your own!

Turning up the music you danced around your near on empty house, cracking open a bottle of wine and finally feeling calm enough to collect the rubbish you’d dumped earlier in exhaustion. Opening the door to pick the black bag up you noticed it was no longer there, looking around to see if anyone had moved it the same neighbour from this morning approached you. “I put it in mine!” pointing to a wheelie bin next to her garage then proceeded to tell you how you can order one too from the council’s website; then I don’t have to remember to put the bins out – genius! You thanked her for the information and was about to close the door but she carried on talking to tell you about the recycle days, the nearest shop for milk, gave you the local window cleaner’s number and where not to park as some neighbours are territorial over parking spaces. “Ahhh, that may be a problem. I’ve got friends coming over for a house warming tonight” you pondered, touching your hand to your chin wondering where everyone was going to park. “Get them to car pool or use the bus, there’s a stop just around the corner. If you need to you can use my driveway, I’ve got work and won’t be home tonight” she smiled during her offering. Thanking her profusely you finally went your separate ways.

Some of your friends stayed over that night and as they were leaving in the morning your neighbour was returning home from work, giving a small wave to each other in passing your friends turned around to look at where your attention had turned to. Watching the woman unload her car with a large duffle bag, you and your friends ogled the mysterious blonde from across the road. “She looks so familiar!” one of your friends said as everyone else agreed. “We chatted yesterday and the whole time I was trying to figure out why I recognised her” talking quietly so you weren’t overheard by the stranger. “Maybe we went to school with her, could have been the year above us?” shrugging at your friends guesses you finished saying goodbye and that you’d see them soon, waving them off you entered the house to do the last bit of tidying they’d left you with.

Later on there was a knock at the door, opening it confused to see your new neighbour standing on the doorstep. “Hey! Just thought I’d bring something to officially welcome you the neighbourhood” she said with a friendly smile and handing you a bunch of flowers with a card. “Thanks, you didn’t have to but I appreciate it” you responded a little taken aback at her generosity; you didn’t think people still talked to their neighbours these days, especially a new person! “I’ll have to find out the vase from one of these boxes” you chuckled, knowing full well you didn’t have one - nobody had ever bought you flowers before! “Oh! You can borrow mine!” she said and before you could contest the offer she was already sprinting off back to her house, barely gone a minute before returning with a simple glass vase. “You have to snip the ends at an angle and pull the leaves off before putting them in the water” she must have sensed that you’d never arranged a bouquet in your life, probably obvious by the way you were holding them like a new born baby that had been reluctantly dumped in your arms. “There’s a sachet there to put in the water too, makes them live longer” she smiled but you could tell she was now anxiously waffling. You thanked her and swiftly closed the door, keen to not take up anymore of her time.. or yours. You don’t know this woman and if you didn’t cut her off who knows how long you’d be standing out there talking! You arranged the flowers in the borrowed vase in the kitchen and displayed them in your front room window so they were visible to everyone outside, walking through to the hallway your fingers tore open the envelope, trying to catch something that slipped from the card before it fell to the floor.

Hey [insert name here]

Welcome to the neighbourhood!

Here if you need anything!

Rachel x

PS. here’s a number for your wheelie bin so they don’t get mixed up!

Noticing she had scribbled her phone number at the bottom that became visible as the number sticker slipped out of the card, ‘I never would have thought of this’, you thought as you left it on the sideboard in your porch and went upstairs to run a bath. Flopping back onto the sofa an hour later and switching on the TV, mindlessly flicking through channels as you reread the card, your hands already holding your phone punched in the number Rachel had written.

Y: “(y/n)”

R: “Huh?”

Y: “Insert name here… it’s (y/n)”

R: “Ahh, hi (y/n). Do you know nets are see through when you have the lights on?”

Your eyes bulged out of your head as they suddenly flicked towards the window, scrambling in panic to pull the sofa cushions over the top of you. Coming from shared accommodation you had been so excited to get your own house and be able to walk around naked with no worries in the world that you had forgotten to pull the curtains! You’d dropped your towel when you were walking down the stairs and had been flicking between the kitchen and the lounge fetching snacks before your evening Love Island catch up. Laying on your sofa frozen with anxiety wondering how you’re going to move anywhere with no clothing in sight you took to slithering off your sofa and onto the floor, pencil rolling over to the boxes that hadn’t been unpacked yet. There has to be clothes in here somewhere! Finally feeling something fluffy and knowing it was the new blanket for your bed, you wrapped yourself up like a burrito and hopped over to the window, seeing Rachel at hers waving while in full fits of laughter. Wincing at your incredibly stupid mistake you snapped the curtains shut in embarrassment and sunk down the radiator onto the floor again - what a way to announce your arrival!

The next day you were hurriedly leaving for work, your alarm hadn’t sounded you awake and you didn’t have long to get to your job. Rushing out of the door in a chaotic whirlwind you pulled on your jacket and zipped up your bag when you looked up and saw Rachel working out in her garage. Your face quickly blushed red as you turned and slammed the door of your house with you still inside it. How can you live in a neighbourhood where at least one of your neighbours have already seen you naked in the first week of living here?! Peeping out of your porch window to see her sitting on the weight bench with her phone in her hand.. now is your time to run for it - when she’s distracted! Locking your door as quietly as you could you tiptoed over to your car, closing the door with a sigh of relief that you hadn’t been spotted when your phone pinged making you jump. “You know you can’t hide from me forever” turning to look out of your window to see her subtly tilt her head up to the sky with a nod of acknowledgment and disarmament, you sent her a nod back in awkward recognition before driving away. You spent your shift searching for new houses, ones far away where nobody would know you as the naked neighbour! “Is it too soon to move?” you asked in the cafeteria which was met by laughter from your work friends after telling them what had happened. They reassured you that it must happen to everyone at least once in their lifetime and told you to suck it up.

Arriving home to see Rachel’s car was gone you decided to start working on your front garden, safe in the knowledge that you weren’t going to bump into her this afternoon. Sitting cross legged on the grass and digging holes for flowers soon burned the hours away as you pottered around your garden making it look as lovely as the rest of the neighbourhood, you were able to relax knowing that Rachel doesn’t usually return home until the next morning and figured that she must work night shifts. That was until she did return home, much earlier than you were expecting! You had finished your garden and was laying on the newly laid grass gazing up at the sky when you heard the hum of a car drive into your close, sitting up to see it was Rachel and quickly flopping back down, closing your eyes hoping she’d think you were asleep.. or dead! Hearing the car door slam you held your breath in anticipation that she wouldn’t notice you but instead you heard footsteps getting closer along with small pitter patters, only opening your eyes as a you felt a tongue lick your face to see a small dog staring at you with its head tilted. “Who’s this?” your voice turned high pitch at the cute little floof eyeballing you. What a way to break the ice, she’s an actual genius! “Dexi, she seems to like you” she said sitting down on the grass next to you. “Look, it’s not a big deal and getting caught out has happened to all of us” she said trying to make you feel better, plopping the small dog in your lap to stroke her. Raising an eyebrow to question her statement, “really?” you asked, wondering if your friends were right that it does happens to everyone. “Well.. no, but isn’t it a good thing I told you so it didn’t happen again?” she laughed to herself, once again making your cheeks turn red in cringeworthy embarrassment. “Err.. I guess?” For all you know, there was only one person that knew what had happened, doesn’t mean anybody else had seen you and this woman seems like she wouldn’t gossip about it to others in the area. You spent the afternoon chatting on the lawn and playing with Dexi, the embarrassment was soon forgotten as you spoke about anything and everything. A few hours passed when a delivery lorry pulled up in front of your house and unveiled your new bin, Rachel was quick to her feet to collect it for you, wheeling it next to your garage and asking where your sticker was that she got for it. Pointing to the inside of your porch, “may I?” she asked while holding the handle, nodding at her in encouragement before entering your home and grabbing the sticker from the cabinet just inside the door. Crouching down to press the sticker firmly onto your new bin, she stepped back to admire her work and to soak up the adoration for her help and thoughtfulness. You spent the rest of the afternoon talking about why you both moved to the area, how long she has lived here, your mutual love for Love Island and all things reality TV. “What school did you go to?” you finally plucked up the courage to ask, assuming she came from the area. “Not one round here” she chuckled, inquisitive of why you would ask that. “Hmm, me and my friends swear we recognise you from somewhere! We thought maybe it was from school?” you laughed nervously desperately trying to rack your brain as to why she looks so familiar. The blonde shrugged her shoulders and swiftly excused herself after that, citing she needed to feed Dexi.

A few days passed you were making your dinner when the vase Rachel had leant you caught your attention on the draining board, looking out of the window to see her garage door open you decided to pay her a visit. “Hey! I forgot to give your vase back!” calling out as you approached the garage before popping your head in to see her counting reps under her breath as she lifted the weight bar, reaching 50 before stopping to talk to you. “Sorry, would have lost my place if I stopped” standing up to straighten out her top. “You didn’t have to bring it back, you might get more flowers one day” she said approaching you, scratching the back of her neck in a slightly awkward manner. “You’re the only person that’s ever bought me any so I don’t think it’s going to happen any time soon” you laughed nervously. “Ya never know though” she shrugged but took the ornament out of your hands, “believe me, I know” you insisted before excusing yourself as dinner was in the oven. Rachel asked what you’ve got so told her you had enough for two if she fancied it; accepting the offer cautiously, she’ll come over after she’s showered.

The doorbell rang as you went to answer it to Rach standing on the doorstep waving a bottle of wine around with a goofy grin. As you finished dishing up dinner, she took herself on a tour of your house even though it was exactly the same layout of hers. She noticed you still hadn’t unpacked everything and studied the words written on the carboard boxes – ‘costumes’, ‘plants’, ‘photos’, along with a few others before making her way to the lounge. Picking up the photographs displayed on the mantlepiece she studied them carefully, chuckling to herself at the one of you and your friends all dressed up in whacky costumes at a bar crawl in another country. You came in with dinner spotting her admiring your photos, “I need this story!” she exclaimed excitedly as she came to join you at the table. You ate and spoke about your girls trip to Vegas and how you came to be dressed up as a giant pea then moved to the sofa for this evening’s Love Island. Rachel told you how she’d lived in America for a bit and told stories about her time there whilst sharing the bottle of wine between you (and by share, she had one glass and you had the rest!) You watched the latest episode together, discussing who your faves are and who you think are snakey and after the programme finished Rachel said she had to leave early tomorrow so shouldn’t stay much longer. “Early shift tomorrow then?” you asked as you accompanied her to the front door, “something like that, I gotta go to Brighton” slipping her shoes back on you asked if she’s staying away tomorrow night. “No I’ll be home, probably pretty late though so don’t wait up for me” she winked in a jokey manner but it still made you feel a little flustered as she waved goodbye.

Over the coming weeks you and Rachel became closer friends, she had come round to help you unpack the rest of your boxes and had helped paint and decorate your spare room. Running around B&Q like children taking it in turns to push each other on the trolley turned into a bi-weekly activity to choose the bedding, lighting and paintings to add the final touches on the room. It had become a regular evening ritual to watch Love Island together when she was home and you found yourself missing her when she was away for work. You certainly didn’t think you’d end up being firm friends with one of your neighbours so quickly after moving in but you were grateful for the familiar comfort of someone you get on so well with on your venture alone.

Waking up late had become a frustrating habit of yours lately, it seemed that since moving out your routine was all over the place, once again rushing out of the door to get to work in time. Only this time, you’d forgotten something.. realising after the door slammed behind you that you hadn’t picked up your keys! Just like you did a few months ago when you moved in, screams exited your mouth and travelled up towards the sun coupled with your foot landing heavily onto your front tyre in frustration then sulked over to your friend’s house, ringing the doorbell hoping Rachel was awake. It didn’t look like she was as when she answered the door her hair looked dishevelled like she’d just woken up, Dexi under her arm whined for cuddles from you as you told her what had happened and asked to borrow her phone. The blonde invited you in and unlocked her phone for you to use as she went to get dressed, Dexi stayed with you as you stroked away the anger. While you waited for your mum to finish work to bring you the spare key she offered you a cup of tea, leading you out to her much bigger garden than yours to drink it. “Omg you have a hot tub?!” and just like that you’d forgotten your earlier woes. Walking up to admire the pool you dipped your hand inside to feel the warmth, spotting something else in your sight. “What the fuck is this this?” looking at a small looking pool with ICE written on the side. “An ice bath” she giggled watching you from the patio. “Why on earth would anyone need one of these?!” backing away from it like it was a deadly disease. “It’s good for you! Especially after working out!” she insisted. “Ah well, that explains why I’ve never heard of it then!” you laughed. “I could do a few sessions with you?” her words caused your face to screw up, that line reminding you that she really doesn’t know you at all. “I’ll just take the hot tub thanks” you said angelically as you sat back at the table with her. “Come over later then? Your mums here” looking at the alert on her phone that someone was at her front door.

“Am I underdressed?” you asked as Rachel opened the door to you in shorts and a shirt that was open and showing your bikini clad chest. Shaking her head with a smirk, “nah, you’re perfect” stepping aside to let you in, “you can jump in, I’m just watching the end of the football”. Deciding to wait for her you sat down to watch the end of the game, asking who was playing and making your lack of football knowledge very well known. As your friend shouted “offside!” at the TV a look of confusion wiped over your face, you had absolutely no idea what the offside rule was no matter (how many times someone tried to explain it to you – you just didn’t care enough to understand! “Who do you support then?” noticing Rachel took a while to pull her eyes away from the match to answer you, “well, Villa obviously – we live here!” she laughed, not bothering to ask you the same seeing as you’d made your disinterest for the game clear. You wondered why she was watching Chelsea v Tottenham if she doesn’t support them but didn’t dare ask, you didn’t want to be annoying so decided to go jump in the tub instead. Playing on your phone until Rachel made an appearance in just her bikini and shorts, quickly looking away after catching yourself looking her up and down hoping she didn’t notice. She did. “You can’t be awkward, I’ve literally seen you naked!” she laughed at your blushing again. “Don’t remind me!” your hand found your forehead in dismay, you’d actually forgotten that this is how your friendship started! “Didn’t fancy this one then?” she joked while sinking into her ice bath. “Nah I fancied the hot one” choking on your drink a little realising the sentence could mean the hot tub or Rachel, both were true regardless! “Who won then?” changing the subject quickly. “Chelsea, do you really not like football?” she asked. “I just don’t get it.. I went to the women’s final at Wembley last year though” you smiled, thinking that fact might interest her. “Really? You?!” she questioned with heavy sarcasm, she couldn’t imagine you at a match after everything you’ve said this evening. “Well my friends wanted to go and I thought why not, I didn’t have a clue what was going on but it was cool we won!” finally excited you could converse on something she was clearly interested in. “Yeah it was, I was there too!” she said, joining you in the hot tub. “Oh really, small world!” noticing a smirk on her face as you said that.

You’re not quite sure how the next part of the conversation started, she must have been trying to fill the silence.. to you it felt natural, being comfortable in silence with someone is truly a tell tale sign that you’re close with them but Rachel mustn’t of felt this way. “Have you seen the stars out here yet?” shaking your head in response to her random question. Being so far out from the city she said that you can see so many stars on a clear night, she loves sitting out here at nighttime watching them and gets sad when it’s cloudy. You shared your love for the moon, you’re a night owl and was excited at the prospect of seeing it more clearly. Looking up to see the sun setting you asked how long it takes for the stars to come out, kicking your feet out underneath the bubbles not realising her feet were out too as they grazed together. “Oh, err, sorry!” Rachel could sense your nervousness as you suddenly splashed your legs underneath you to sit them crossed. “It’s okay” the famous little smirk of hers shone through on her face - the one where the corners of her lips turn downwards slightly but the inside of her mouth smiled, an expression that is totally unique to her. Moving her arm around the back of you and balancing it on the edge of the tub she effortlessly scooched closer at the same time making your heart beat faster, trying to control your breathing hoping she wouldn’t notice it had accelerated into sharp intakes of breath.

Your weeknights had turned into a regular combination of Love Island and hot tubs, weeks passed by where you and Rachel’s friendship had grown closer and closer. Always in one of your houses together except when either of you had work, you’d even let Rach try to teach you the rules of football – she found a method to explain it in a way that makes sense to your brain.. it was either that or the fact you actually wanted to listen to the words coming out of her beautiful mouth.

Wolf whistles echoed around the block as your neck snapped to turn to the only place they could be coming from. It was the hottest day of the year and you were outside washing your car in your casual summer attire – an oversized check shirt that fell lower over your legs than the little denim shorts you’d become accustomed to in this weather, you’d unbuttoned your shirt in the heat and it was now barely hanging on to your arms. When you dried the water droplets on the bonnet so you could see your face in it you turned to lean up on your car like all the hot girls do in the music videos, your foot leant up on the grill and your arms folded as you looked over to Rachel standing in her garage door frame. Your tongue poked into your inner cheek before sliding out the corner of your mouth in a suggestive manner spotting her bare shoulders and arms you could hardly contain yourself. The flirting had become an expected part of your days and even though neither of you had ever said anything, it was obvious that there was something between you. “You done your work out yet?” you called over to her, watching her shake her head teasingly before replying to you, “why, do you wanna watch?” turning her back to face you as she loaded up her bars with weights. The offer was irresistible, especially as you knew ice baths and hot tubs always come after work outs! “Mayybeee” your word elongated as you swung on the door frame to the garage in a giddy way, watching her lie down on the bench as she started her reps and waiting for her to invite you in.. not that you needed permission anymore! Rolling out your chair for the hour you plopped yourself onto the exercise ball and wiggled your bum around as it moved across the floor. You’ve always had trouble sitting still but the bounciness of the ball kept you entertained for a while as you flicked through your phone. “Why don’t you work out?” she asked through heavy breaths as she neared the end of the reps on her first station of the day. “Why would I want to do that on purpose?” you answered bewildered as to why anyone would voluntarily put themselves through that. “So your body is strong?” was one of her reasons before listing off a few others. Giving in to her petty argument you decided to give her what she clearly wanted, “babes if you wanna watch me sweat you just gotta say” your voice turned cocky as you waltzed over to the treadmill at the opposite side of the room, noticing she moved stations to where the dumbbells were which was conveniently in front of a mirror so she could watch you.. even though she insisted she wasn’t! You can always feel if someone is watching you whether your back is turned or not and decided to play with her a little, taking your shirt off and throwing it into the corner of the room as you picked up pace. Rachel was watching you intently through the mirror, fixed on how your ponytail bounced with each step or how your shorts had risen higher up your legs.

You felt Rachel approach you from behind, coming to the side of the machine and leaning her arm up onto the display. “Do you like women (y/n)?” she asked maintaining eye contact as you continued to run. Her eyes tried to fix on yours like she was trying to read what you were going to say before it’s even been said, unable to avoid flicking between your face and your bikini clad chest bouncing in time with your pony tale. Biting her lip at the thoughts in her mind of wrapping her fist around your hair and pulling those shorts off of your cute body. “Are you dumb?” your tone sounding a little more harsh than intended, “I’m literally on this thing in a fucking bikini waiting for you to throw me across this room!” Rachel snorted at your sudden explosion of honesty, “so that’s why you don’t work out! You’re a pillow princess!” she teased causing you to slam your hand onto the display to stop the treadmill, letting it slip you off the end with your arms folded. “Say that again, I dare ya” you egged her on by getting up in her face as you said that, willing her to take you and take you now! If not to the bedroom at least to be dumped in the hot tub! She’d barely batted an eyelid when her sudden movements caught you off guard, throwing your body over her shoulder she pulled down the garage door and carried you up stairs, slapping your butt then threw you down the bed, pinning your arms to the mattress beneath her, “that’s why I work out!” her cocky voice made you wince, releasing months of worked up sexual tension in a night of passion.

A few days later you were putting your bins out when you heard drilling come from the other side of the block. “Oi oi!” calling out as you approached the garage, Rachel appeared within seconds holding a drill in one hand and leaning up on the frame with the other. Blowing the tip of her drill like she’d just shot someone with a gun. “Hey sexy” she leant down to kiss you with as much passion as you shared the other night, “come for round two have ya?” smirking as she pulled you into the garage. “Are you gonna put that down first?” cautiously nodding towards the electric tool still in her hand. As she bent down to place it on the ground your eyes were drawn towards the wall where she had been hanging things up. Spotting your gaze fixed on the frames her breathing stopped in anticipation of the next thing to come out of your mouth. Your eyes glanced from shirt to shirt with DALY written on the back of every single one until your brain clicked all the pieces together. “Rachel Daly! “That’s why I recognised you! That’s why your shifts are all over the place!” your hands clapped over your mouth as her facial expression stayed neutral waiting for you to finish gawping. “I prefer people get to know me before the footballer” she said with nervousness tinged in her words, “I prefer people get to know me before they see me naked!” you laughed, slapping her shoulder which showed absolutely nothing had changed. “Tell me about them” taking her hand and standing in front of the first shirt with her, the one that looked the most faded and aged. “You’re actually interested?” her arm draped over your shoulder, using her other hand to softly swipe the beach wavy hair from your eyes. Looking up at her you nodded enthusiastically as she started to talk about her life you knew nothing about, “well this one is from Leeds, they were my first team when I was 15..” she started her story which lead well into the night, you listened intently the entire time, intrigued with the life that she had felt compelled to keep hidden.

#rachel daly #rachel daly x reader #woso x reader #woso masterlist #aston villa wfc #lionesses #lionesses x reader #woso fic #woso community #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #wlw fanfic

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