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High Quality Tank Weighing System Producer- Thames Side
Thames Side specializes in the consistent production and distribution of a diverse range of dependable tank weighing systems. These systems are renowned in various industries for their precision, constructed to industry standards with top-notch components and cutting-edge technologies.
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T38 High Temperature
The T38 high accuracy double shear beam load cell is ideal for weighing in high temperature environments within Steel Plants and Foundries, for example ladle turret and ladle ferry scales, scrap buckets, roller tables, tundish cars, and silo/ hopper weighing systems. Read more
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Are you searching for the latest Infographic on the Tank Weighing System?
Optima Weightech PVT.LTD. provides an Informative Infographic on the Tank Weighing System. It explains the Role and features of the Tank Weighing System really well. If you're interested in learning more, contact us.
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Leading Tank Weighing System Producer- Thames Side
Thames Side consistently produces and distributes a wide selection of very reliable tank weighing equipment. These weighing techniques are used by the industry because of their accuracy. Weighing systems are constructed in accordance with industry requirements utilizing high-quality parts and advanced technologies.
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Best Tank Weighing System Producer- Thames Side
All the components needed to build a measuring chain that meets your demands are available from Thames Side. To learn more about the tank weighing system, go to our website.
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Tank Weighing System Producer- Thames Side
Thames Side consistently manufactures and distributes a wide variety of very reliable tank weighing equipment. These weighing systems are preferred by the industry because of their accuracy. Weighing systems are created using premium materials and cutting-edge technology in accordance with industry requirements.
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Tank Weighing System Manufacturers in India - Caliber Scales India Pvt Ltd
Tank Weighing System Manufacturers design and produce precision weighing solutions for industrial tanks and vessels. These systems use load cells to measure the weight of the tank and its contents accurately. Contact the manufacturer of Customized Tank/ Hopper/Vessel Weighing System Manufacturers offered by Caliber Scales India Pvt Ltd Delhi.
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The Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope’s flight harness is transferred from the mock-up structure to the spacecraft flight structure.
Your Body is Wired Like a NASA Space Telescope. Sort Of.
If our Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope were alive, its nervous system would be the intricate wiring, or “harness,” that helps different parts of the observatory communicate with one another. Just like the human body sends information through nerves to function, Roman will send commands through this special harness to help achieve its mission: answering longstanding questions about dark energy, dark matter, and exoplanets, among other mind-bending cosmic queries.
Roman’s harness weighs around 1,000 pounds and is made of about 32,000 wires and 900 connectors. If those parts were laid out end-to-end, they would be 45 miles long from start to finish. Coincidentally, the human body’s nerves would span the same distance if lined up. That’s far enough to reach nearly three-fourths of the way to space, twice as far as a marathon, or eight times taller than Mount Everest!
An aerial view of the harness technicians working to secure Roman’s harness to the spacecraft flight structure.
Over a span of two years, 11 technicians spent time at the workbench and perched on ladders, cutting wire to length, carefully cleaning each component, and repeatedly connecting everything together.
Space is usually freezing cold, but spacecraft that are in direct sunlight can get incredibly hot. Roman’s harness went through the Space Environment Simulator – a massive thermal vacuum chamber – to expose the components to the temperatures they’ll experience in space. Technicians “baked” vapors out of the harness to make sure they won’t cause problems later in orbit.
Technicians work to secure Roman’s harness to the interior of the spacecraft flight structure. They are standing in the portion of the spacecraft bus where the propellant tanks will be mounted.
The next step is for engineers to weave the harness through the flight structure in Goddard’s big clean room, a space almost perfectly free of dust and other particles. This process will be ongoing until most of the spacecraft components are assembled. The Roman Space Telescope is set to launch by May 2027.
Learn more about the exciting science this mission will investigate on X and Facebook.
Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!
#NASA#astronomy#telescope#Roman Space Telescope#engineering#space hardware#dark energy#dark matter#space#technology#tech#universe
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A Democratic media strategy to save journalism and the nation
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/2024/12/12/the-view-from-somewhere/#abolish-rogan
As unbearably cringe as the hunt for a "leftist Joe Rogan" is, it is (to use a shopworn phrase), "directionally correct." Democrats suck at getting their message out, and that exacts a high electoral cost.
The right has an extremely well-funded media ecosystem of high-paid bullshitters backed by algorithm-gaming SEO dickheads. This system isn't necessarily supposed to turn a profit or even break even: the point of Prageru isn't to score ad revenue, it's to ensure that anyone who googles "what the fuck causes inflation" gets 25 minutes of relatable, upbeat, cheerfully sociopathic Austrian economics jammed into their eyeballs. Far right news isn't a for-profit concern, it's a loss-leader for oligarch-friendly policies. It's a steal: a million bucks' worth of news buys America's ultra-rich a billion dollars' worth of tax-cuts and the right to maim their workers and poison their customers for profit.
Meanwhile, the Democrats have historically relied on the "traditional media" to carry their messages, on the ground that reality has a well-known leftist bias, so any news outlet that hews to "journalistic ethics" will publish the truth, and the truth will weigh in favor of Democratic positions: trans people are humans, racism is real, abortion isn't murder, housing is a market failure, the planet is on fire, etc, etc, etc.
This is a stupid policy, and it has failed. The "respectable" news media hews to a self-imposed code of "balance" and "neutrality" that is easily gamed: "some people say that Hatians don't eat pet dogs, some people do, let's report both sides!" This is called "the view from nowhere" and it gets Democrats precisely nowhere:
http://archive.pressthink.org/2008/03/14/pincus_neutrality.html
Balance and neutrality are bullshit, an excuse that has been so thoroughly weaponized by billionaires and their lickspittles that anyone who takes it seriously demonstrates comprehensively that they, themselves, are deeply unserious:
https://www.techdirt.com/2024/12/10/la-times-billionaire-owner-hilariously-thinks-he-can-solve-media-bias-with-ai/
Press neutrality – the view from nowhere – isn't some eternal verity. In terms of the history of the press, it's an idea that's about ten seconds old. The glory days of the news were dominated by papers with names like The Smallville Democrat and The Ruling Class Republican. Most of the world boggles at the idea that a news outlet wouldn't declare its political posture. Britons know that the Telegraph is the Torygraph; that the Guardian is in the tank for Labour (and specifically, committed to enabling Blairite/Starmerite purges of the left); the Mirror is a leftist tabloid; and the Mail is so far right that its editorial board considers Attila the Hun "woke."
Writing for The American Prospect – an excellent leftist news outlet – Ryan Cooper proposes a solution to the Democratic media gap that's way better than the hunt for the elusive "leftist Joe Rogan": sponsoring explicitly Democrat news outlets:
https://prospect.org/politics/2024-12-12-democrats-lost-propaganda-war/
The country is a bleak landscape of news deserts where voters literally didn't hear about what Trump was saying he would do, and, if they heard about it, they didn't hear from anyone who could explain what it meant. The average normie voter doesn't know what a "tariff" is, and chances are they think it's a tax that other countries inexplicably pay for the privilege of selling very cheap things to Americans.
Ironically, this news desert is also a crowded field of hungry, unemployed, talented journalists. What if Dems funded free newsgathering and publication in news deserts that told the truth? What if these news outlets, by dint of being an explicitly partisan, party-subsidized project, refused to adopt all the anti-reader practices of other websites, like disgusting surveillance, intrusive advertising, AI slop, email-soliciting pop-ups, and all the other crap that makes the news worse and worse every day?
Cooper recounts how this was actually tried on a small scale, to modest good effect, when the Center for American Progress subsidized Thinkprogress, an explicitly leftist news outlet. This was going great until 2019, when corporate Dems and their megadonors killed it because Thinkprogress had the temerity to report on their corrupt dealings:
https://www.thedailybeast.com/thinkprogress-a-top-progressive-news-site-is-shutting-down/
And, Cooper points out, this isn't what happens with far-right subsidy news. Right wing influencers, personalities and writers can stray pretty far from the party line without getting shut down.
I love the idea of a disenshittified, explicitly political leftist Democratic news media. Imagine a newsroom whose purpose is to get its message repeated as widely as possible. It wouldn't have a paywall – it would be Creative Commons Attribution-only, allowing for commercial republication by anyone who wants to reprint it, so long as they link back to it. It wouldn't wring its hands over AI ingestion or whether a slop site that rewrote its articles got to the top of Google News. That's fine! If the point is to get people to understand your point of view – and not to attract clicks or eyeballs – other people repackaging your content and finding ways to spread it is a feature, not a bug.
Back in the Napster Wars, entertainment industry shills – like Hillary Rosen, who oversaw a campaign to sue tens of thousands of children before becoming a major Democratic Party power-broker – used to tell us that "you can't compete with free." That's not entirely true, but it's not entirely false, either. If your news is a loss-leader for a democratic society that addresses human flourishing and a habitable planet, then you can make that news free-as-in-speech and free-as-in-beer, and avoid all the suckitude that makes reading "real" news so fucking garbage.
For the past five years, I've been publishing a newsletter – this thing you're reading now – that has no analytics, ads, tracking, pop-ups, or other trash. As a writer, it's profoundly satisfying and liberating, because all I have to care about is whether people engage with my ideas. I literally have no idea how many people read this, but I know everything people say about it.
That's how the news worked back in the good old days that everyone says we need to return to. Writers and editors measured the success of a story based on how the public reacted to it, not based on clicks or metrics that told you how far someone scrolled before they gave up on it. The supposed benefits of "data-driven" editorial policy have not materialized – the "data-driven" part is the search for an equilibrium between how surveillant and obnoxious a website can be and your decision to stop reading it forever.
Outlets like Propublica have done well by adopting much of this program, albeit without any explicit leftist agenda (the fact that they seem leftist reflects nothing more than their commitment to reporting the truth, e.g., Clarence Thomas is a lavishly corrupt puppet of billionaires who've showered him with riches).
The fact that they've been as successful as they are on a national beat – and partnering with the scant few regional papers to do some local coverage – just proves the point. The Democratic Party doesn't need its own Joe Rogan – they need a nationwide network of local outlets, sponsored by the party, committed to never enshittifying, bringing relevant, timely news to a nation in desperate need of it.
#pluralistic#media theory#the news#democrats#democrats in disarray#uspoli#journalism#the view from nowhere#news deserts
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WIP WEDNESDAY
Fox pursed his lips. Front teeth absently biting at his scarred lips. Weighing odds, making plans, making spreadsheets with a color system for making plans was a Cody thing. “Fuck it.”
Quin leaned against the open door of the armory, curiously watching him as he decided how light or heavy he wanted to pack. “I guess you have decided what cavalry to bring? I’ve heard enough from Obi-Wan—“
Fox glanced at Quin. Right. The other Jedi. He put a vibro knife in every slot his armor provided.
“—to suggest air support. Or a tank.”
“A tank won’t stop him,” he murmured, storing a couple 15S on his person. A tank driven by a clone commander might be the only thing able to stop Cody but Fox was very aware how Cody operated. A comparatively small space with only one entrance/exit deal? Fox would be writing on the wall within minutes.
The missile launcher looked incredibly sweet and safety promising. The noise pollution Coruscant could maybe cover the sound of the missile going after Cody until it was too late. Fox sighed. The people making the noise pollution might not appreciate the plan as much as he did. He compromised on a sniper rifle designed for tranq shots.
It would be better if Cody remained none the wiser of being hunted. Or who was out to hunt him.
“There was a training sim,” he started.
Quin cocked an eyebrow, interest drastically zeroed in on Fox’s life before Coruscant.
“One of the batch would lead the hunt of one other batch mate. He won more times than not when it was his hunt.”
“Was it ever his turn to be hunted?”
Plenty. Probably the only times Cody felt close to carefree. “Still was his hunt in the end.”
Fox stocked up on the blaster cartridges.
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December 02: Wolfe Glick
00 │ 01 │ 02
“Welcome back to my channel,” streamer and PokéTuber Wolfe Glick said as he flashed his audience one of his cute smiles, “tonight we’re gonna do some Tera Raid battles…”
The cute hunk was in his recording room at his house, enjoying the heater blasting and warming up the winter air. He sat in front of his camera with his dual screen system on the desk in front of him— one screen showing Pokémon Violet and the other his chat. Wolfe had won scores of adoring fans due in part to his status as a world champion in Pokémon battling and because of his cute nerdy guy aesthetic. Still, it was obvious that he took care of himself, as was evident by his toned muscles that were barely visible beneath his tight tank top.
Wolfe got the game set up and began to read off the chat, thanking the donations that were starting to come in. He paused when he saw that a new username, HypnoGuy72, had posted a gif that looked like a spiral that was circling around in a mesmerizing manner into the chat that was continuously scrolling.
The man cocked his eyebrow in confusion as he stared at it, his muscles gradually relaxing as his jaw went slack.
As the rest of the comments popped up, the gif disappeared down the line and Wolfe snapped out of his daze.
“Whoa, um… sorry about that,” Wolfe muttered, shaking his head as he wondered just why he’d spaced out. He blushed a little bit and cleared his throat as he grabbed his pro controller. “Um, let’s go ahead and get started, shall we?”
As he played, Wolfe started to squirm a little in his seat, seemingly unable to stay still for some reason. The presence of his webcam, with its shiny glass eye, weighed heavily on the streamer’s mind unlike ever before, and the more the chat spoke up, the more Wolfe began to feel some sort of giddy excitement.
Obviously, Wolfe loved to stream, which was why he followed down this career path, but he’d never felt his heart race so heavily in his chest before… nor had he ever gotten so rock hard on stream before.
Wolfe flinched when he felt his cock plump up to its full size, thankful that it was hidden underneath his desk. His heart raced even faster, and Wolfe even had to wonder if it was because of embarrassment or excitement.
For some strange reason, the streamer felt a foreign exhilaration at the thought of being hard on stream. He wanted to try his best to ignore it and try to finish the stream, forcing himself to play the game before him.
“Um, so we can go ahead and face this six star raid— Ooohhh.” Wolfe’s eyes widened to the size of saucers as he broke off mid-sentence, bellowing out a low moan. He winced when he finally registered that one hand held his pro controller, while the other thumbed a hard nipple.
Wolfe felt his face turn bright red as he realized that not only had he just played with his nipple on stream for all of his followers to see, but he’d also enjoyed it as was evident by his hard cock.
“What the hell is up with me?” he muttered under his breath before turning back to face the camera full on, again, his heart racing once he was on-screen dead on. “Um, yeah, sorry about that guys…”
He trailed off when he heard the pro controller clatter onto the hard desk. As if they had a mind of their own, both of Wolfe’s hands moved on their own accord up towards his tank top. They roughly yanked on the neck hole to bring it downwards so that his plump pecs were entirely exposed. He didn’t know what was going on, but as soon as his hands latched onto his sensitive nipples for the stream to lust over, all Wolfe could do was moan loudly.
Wolfe tried to tell himself to stop, but the more he saw the chat respond, the less control over his actions he appeared to have.
The stunned hunk felt himself raise one arm, flexing a sizable bicep for the camera. He inwardly screamed as he felt himself lean forward and lick it seductively, moaning loudly for everyone watching. All the while, his other hand still toyed with his nipple.
Wolfe felt as if he were a puppet tied to strings, and someone other than himself was in charge of his actions. He desperately tried to stop feeling himself up on camera, but the more he saw people logging in to watch his stream, the more intense his impromptu show turned.
The bewildered hunk tore his pants and boxers down as he scooted his chair further back to allow his hard cock to bob in the air for everyone to gawk at. Despite his inner panic, Wolfe felt a smirk form on his handsome face.
With one hand, he reached down and wrapped a fist around his throbbing cock and began to jerk it off on camera. With the other, he reached behind himself, sliding a few fingers between his plump cheeks to play with his tight hole. His face twisted into a visage full of utter pleasure and joy as he pursed his thick lips and let out moan after slutty moan.
As he pleasured himself, Wolfe’s body decided to up the ante as it began to bounce slightly on his intruding fingers. Each movement shoved his invading digits further into his sensitive hole, eliciting more hungry moans from the slutty stud. Each impact caused his pecs to bounce a little and he couldn’t stop the little shimmy he added to his waist that caused his cock to wag tantalizingly in the air. Everything he was doing was for a show, and although he was aware of all that he was doing, Wolfe was powerless to stop any of it.
Deep down, Wolfe begged himself to stop, but he wasn’t in control of his body. Worse was that a growing part of himself was loving showing off in such a sexual manner on camera for his thousands of followers to lust after. There was a growing part of him that was excited to be naked and jerking off like a camboy whore for all to see, and that thought made his cock throb even more.
The chat exploded with donations and cheers from men enjoying the show, many of them subscribing in the hopes that there’d be more to see. Wolfe was too caught up in pleasuring himself that he didn’t see HypnoGuy72’s new comment flash upon the screen:
That little spiral hypnotized the poor stud into becoming a camwhore. He can’t help but act like a gay slut whenever he’s on camera now!
“Uunghh!” Wolfe squealed as his cock shot out streams of cum that landed all over his chest. He panted as he tried to catch his breath, his pecs heaving with the motion.
The dazed streamer struggled to piece together what had just happened. Deep down, he was humiliated over his seemingly uncontrollable actions, but there also existed a large part of himself that had loved the whole experience.
He’d loved it so much that, despite having just came, his cock was already rock hard all over again as the naked stud sat in front of the camera.
He smirked again. “Ready for Round Two?” he asked his followers, as he began to thumb his hard nipples again.
#advent calendar#TF#ultram0th#Wolfe Glick#straight to gay#himbo#himboification#himbo tf#hypnotized#hypnosis
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FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 1
In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...
Steven Grant x afab!psychologist!reader (8.0k+)
RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, intense overstimulation, non-ejaculatory orgasm, cumplay, cum eating, praise kink, dirty talk, use of the stoplight system) NOTES: steven is my baby. he deserves the world. i hope i did his character justice. DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!
← previous part | next part →
CASE STUDY: STEVEN GRANT
ROLE IN SYSTEM: Caretaker / Internal Self-Helper
ATTACHMENT STYLE: Preoccupied
CHARACTERISTICS: timid, introverted, sensitive, unassertive; inferiority complex; the epitome of a people pleaser.
SPLIT FROM HOST: assumedly a result of simultaneous emotional and physical abuse from mother.
TRAUMA RESPONSE: alter likely emerged as a way to maintain the childhood innocence of the host; a personification of the word 'hope'.
SEXUAL PRESENTATION: shy, reserved, submissive, responsive, doting; views relationship as transactional (i.e. his only value is derived from what he can provide to a partner, whether that be physically, fiscally, materially, or emotionally); incredibly receptive to praise and validation.
Silence.
It filled the room and weighed heavy in the air—only interrupted by the buzzing of the filter in Gus’ fish tank near the center of the apartment.
You swallowed.
Why did it have to be Steven first?
You knew why. You’d made the decision deliberately, carefully—Steven was the softest, most vulnerable and hesitant. The most emotionally mature, but also the most emotionally fragile. Sensitive, caring, empathetic, loving—he really, truly cared. That’s why he had to go first. This was more than just an excuse to have sex with you—this was intimacy, passion, a closeness he so desperately craved. And you knew, deep down, he’d be comparing himself to his other alters. Envying their confidence, their forwardness, their unapologetic sexual prowess. Steven had always felt inferior—you needed to prove to him that that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
But still. As much as you cared for him, as much as you were looking forward to getting to know him physically, in that moment, you desperately wished for a hint of Marc’s initiative, or even a sliver of Jake’s assertiveness.
Steven was sat on the couch, hunched over, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Nervous energy pulsed from his body in waves—his clear stress wasn’t doing anything to help with your own trepidation.
You shuffled beside him, crossing one leg over the other at the ankles. You drew in a breath.
“Do you... do we need to go over anything again?”
He flinched at your intrusion on the silence—without sparing you a glance, he offered a brief shake of his head.
“Well, I think we should go over it one more time, just in case. So. Today is—is about you. Whatever you say goes. Obviously, I have my limits, but, I mean, I really don’t see that being much of a problem with any of you—except maybe Jake...”
You digressed, but the mention of his alters clearly ruffled Steven’s feathers, even if he hid it well. You continued.
“And—and you’ll be fronting the whole time. No co-consciousness, or interruption from the others. Right?”
Steven nodded again, more firmly this time.
“Okay. And lastly—well, I’ve thought about it, and—and I think we should be fine without condoms.”
That got Steven’s attention. His head turned to you, eyes wide with bewilderment.
“What?”
You looked away abashedly, a blush creeping up your cheeks.
“I just—I’ve got the implant, and well—Marc gave me documentation confirming that you’re negative for any STI’s, which—so am I. So I figure—unless you’re gonna be having sex with anyone else in the time this experiment is being conducted, then—then I think we should be fine... for now.”
“You told us we had to be abstinent in the week between each experimental window.”
You laughed at this, amused at the incredulity in his voice.
“Oh, so you were planning on seeing someone else in between, then?”
His face flushed with alarm as he attempted to backtrack.
“Wha—no! No, I didn’t mean—you just—you said we should refrain from doin’ anything, as in—anything. So I just—”
“Relax, Steven, I’m just teasing you.”
You giggled, reaching to grip his bicep reassuringly. Your fingers making contact with his body seemed to jostle him—he stared down at the place your fingers wrapped around his arm, electricity crackling from your fingers and lighting a fire in his belly. He swallowed.
His sudden attention to your presence grounded you back into reality as well. You felt the taut muscles of his bicep flex beneath your hand, the parting of Steven’s lips and fluttering of his lashes making your breath stumble.
When he looked up at you, finally, his eyes were dark—lustful, desirous. Still, there was a sense of restraint within him, his diffidence preventing him from moving unto you further. You realized that you would likely have to make the first move.
“Steven.”
You spoke softly, drawing him in.
“Are you—do you feel ready?”
For a moment, he looked terrified, like a deer caught in headlights. He glanced away from you for a moment, trying to reason with himself, to will the anxiety away. You squeezed his arm.
“You don’t have to do this, Steven, really. It’s not too late to change your mind.���
“I want this.”
“But Steven, really, it’s alright—”
“No, you don’ understand—I really, really want this.”
His words were breathy, but certain, the desire in his tone undeniable. You felt your breath hitch at his confession, and before either of you had time to worry about it anymore, you closed the gap between you, pushing yourself up against his side and tilting your head so your lips met his. He whined into your mouth, his initial hesitance wearing off and making way for his insatiable hunger for your touch, your taste, you.
His hands reached to grip the back of your head, fingers threading in your hair as he pulled you closer, forcing your lips to meld against his deeply. You leaned into him, allowing yourself to shift into his lap, your thighs straddling his. As you settled your weight onto him, he audibly groaned as your core pressed against the hardening tent in his pants. Your hands traveled up his chest and along his shoulders as your tongue explored his mouth. He fought back with equal fervor, and you could sense that there was a hint of desperation in him—as if he was finally acting upon the months worth of repressed sexual tension between the two of you.
You pulled away with a gasp, coming up for air as you lifted your chin slightly, away from the chase of his lips. Instead, they began a sloppy assault on your throat, mouthing and teething at the supple flesh of your neck and down into your collarbone. You let out a breathy moan as Steven lavished your skin with attention, quickly gaining the confidence to suck a mark into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You keened.
“God, Steven.”
The sound of his name falling from your lips was heaven. He pulled you back down for another searing kiss, and you offered an experimental nip to the swell of his bottom lip. He groaned.
“Christ, you’re a minx.”
His voice was throaty, gravelly, and you giggled at his comment as he pressed kisses to the corners of your mouth and the surrounding flesh of your cheeks.
“Should we... do you want to move to the bed?”
You asked quietly, and the man stiffened, clearly enticed by the proposal.
“Yes. Gods, yes.”
You regretfully pulled yourself from his lap and he followed immediately after, reaching for your hand as you guided him back towards his bed. It was neatly made, the corners tucked in and the blankets pressed. For some reason, it made you want to cry. You’d been at his flat plenty of times before, but never had you once seen his bed made up so tidy. He did that for you.
As you reached the end of the bed, you hesitated. You had taken the lead, carefully easing Steven into the interaction, but now, you needed to see what he wanted. You looked to him.
“What—where do you want me?”
He swore he almost blacked out at the sheer compliance that your tone offered. He had to squeeze his eyes shut tight in an effort to slow the rapidly building arousal in his groin—you hadn’t even fucking touched him yet.
“Would you—could you just lay down f’me, love?”
You smiled at him gratefully, offering a small nod at you followed his careful instruction. You shuffled up towards the head of the bed, turning to lie flat on your back with your head propped against the pillows. You looked at Steven expectantly—he was just watching you, fists slowly clenching and unclenching at his sides. Christ, you were a sight to beheld.
Cautiously, Steven lowered onto his hands and knees and crawled up towards you, allowing himself to hover over your body with his own, his waist slotting between the parting of your legs. He rested on his elbows, forearms framing your head as he gazed down at you. The sheer reverence and devotion in his eyes was almost too much to bear.
“Bloody hell, you’re gorgeous.”
He mumbled, fingers moving to stroke your hairline, tracing the curvatures of your face. You smiled softly before tilting your head upwards to close the small space that remained between you. These kisses were softer—slow, gentle, repeated slides of his lips against yours. It made you feel lightheaded.
You reached for the hem of his jumper.
“I—can I?”
You questioned against his lips, and he nodded slowly, sitting upright to help you pull the top up and over his head. He flung it to the side carefully, and you spread your hands out against the warmth of his torso, the ring finger on your left hand just barely brushing his right nipple. He hissed as the feeling of your cold hands pressed into his abdomen, but at the same time, the sensation was intoxicating. You let your fingers slide up towards his chest, skating across both of his hardened nipples before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back to you. He happily obliged, malleable under your touch, but you could feel his fingers twitching as if desperate to touch you. You pushed him back slowly, reaching to take off your own shirt.
“Wait.”
Steven panicked, and you froze, a flash of hurt cresting your face. But he just smiled gently.
“Can—let me.”
He offered, and you laid back, letting his fingers skim the flesh of your stomach as he gripped the hem and pulled the fabric away from you. You sat up briefly to allow him to pull it completely off, revealing your simple white lace bra beneath it. You watched him drink you in, completely infatuated. His hands skated up your sides, over the curve of your hip and across your ribs, but they halted before they reached any further. You nodded in encouragement.
“It’s okay, Steven. You can touch me.”
A whimper escaped his mouth as he slowly reached up the palm at your breast, still contained in the cup of your bra. He could feel the peak of your nipple through the fabric as he massaged the flesh carefully, kneading and squeezing. The sigh you let out spurred him on, and he reached behind you towards the clasp, eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a warm smile and nod, and his fingers worked to unclip the material beneath you. After a few brief seconds of his fumbling, his brows furrowed in frustration.
“What the—bollocks, why’s it so bloody hard to undo?”
Your saccharine giggle melted his annoyance as you offered him assistance, reaching behind you to unlatch the hooks. When it was finally unclasped, the cups loosening their hold on your breasts, he let out a shaky breath, gripping the straps and watching them glide down your arms until you were topless beneath him.
His movements were slow, deliberate, as he watched your body react to his touch. Tracing beneath the swell of your left breast, dancing across the valley between them, repeating the movement on the right side. Goosebumps trailed in his wake as he stared, utterly entranced at the softness of your skin and the rhythm of your breathing.
His eyes met yours once more, and stayed there as he slowly leaned down and pulled your right nipple into his mouth. You mewled at the action, back arching just slightly as his other hand came to cup your other tit, massaging it gently as he sucked at your flesh. He switched sides, lavishing your other nipple with equal attention, and even offering an experimental nip to the swollen bud, earning a cry from you—a mix between a sharp pain, quickly soothed with the swipe of his tongue.
You hardly noticed when his lips began pressing kisses lower across your chest, your breasts, across the expanse of your stomach, until his lips were skating over your navel, just above the button of your jeans. His dark eyes found yours, and he offered you a silent question, to which you immediately nodded. His trembling fingers reached to undo the button—with which he had much more success than your bra—and pulled the zipper down. As he slowly coaxed the fabric away from your skin, he pressed two hot kisses against each of your hip bones before pulling the pants completely off and discarding them nearby.
His hands roamed the newly exposed skin of your thighs, fingers creating divots in the soft flesh with his firm grip. He leaned down and pressed his lips against your calf, sliding them upwards until he reached your inner thigh. You whimpered at his proximity to where you needed him most, but he evaded you by switching to mirror the same path on your other side. Your toes curled in frustration.
“Steven.”
You huffed, head thrown back, and his head popped upwards, eyes wide with concern.
“Stop teasing.”
His gaze softened, and you felt his lips press right above your pubic bone, where the waistband of your panties was settled.
“Sorry, m’love, I couldn’t help it. I’ll make it better, I promise.”
His fingers gripped the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down your legs, successfully leaving you completely bare beneath him. You had half the mind to feel insecure at the exposure, but when you caught sight of the look on Steven's face, his eyes transfixed on the sopping folds of your cunt, any hesitance was thrown out the window.
“Fuckin’ hell.”
He whispered, letting the pointer finger on his left hand just barely graze between your pussy lips to gather some of your wetness, causing your hips to jolt. He let out a short ‘ha’ sound at your reaction to his touch.
“Is this—s’this all f’me?”
He looked at you again, lips parted and eyes hooded. You nodded vigorously.
“Yes, Steven, yes—all for you.”
He rewarded you with a groan, his finger offering another, firmer swipe through your folds, easily sliding through with the slick of your arousal. The tip of his finger caught on the hood of your clit and your hips jumped again. Instead of removing his finger, he slid it back downwards, slowly circling the entrance of your pussy with careful ministrations. Before you could even ask, he pushed his middle finger deep inside you, curling forward, and almost instantly, the pad of his digit nudged at the most sensitive part of you. You cried out at the abrupt sensation, hips unconsciously grinding down against his hand. He smiled wickedly.
“Ah—there you are.”
He mumbled to himself, repeating the motion once more to ensure he had located the spot where your sensitivity peaked. Again, your body followed the movement of his hand, and he easily added a second finger, slowly beginning to pump them in and out of you, all while continuing the well-received come-hither motion. You squeezed your eyes shut, core muscles clenched as pleasure spread from your cunt upwards, and then his thumb found your clit and you were reeling.
“Oh, fuck, Steven, shit—oh God, I can’t, m’gonna—”
His free hand came up to stroke your hair tenderly, eyes peeling away from where they were watching where his fingers sank into you to ogle at the face you'd make as you climaxed.
“That’s it, love. Doin’ so well. C’mon, give it to me.”
Your orgasm reached its peak, toes curling and back arching as you let out a salacious, pornographic moan, thrusting in time with Steven’s diligent fingers as he coaxed every last drop of pleasure from your dripping folds. Your skin buzzed with sensitivity as the waves of stimulation rippled through you—your breathing was labored when you came down from your high, sinking back into the mattress and grounding yourself back in reality.
Steven pressed a kiss to your lips, which you accepted gratefully, although your energy was significantly less than his—he didn’t seem to mind. He pulled away, just barely, noses brushing together in a moment of intimacy. You felt dizzy.
“So good, Steven—make me feel so good.”
You rambled, hot breath fanning across his face. He glowed at your praise, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. Even after your first orgasm, your hunger for him was nowhere near sated. Your walls were clenching around nothing, desperate for the hot drag of his cock inside of you.
Something resembling a whimper came from the back of your throat, and Steven’s eyes found yours, softening.
“I know, darling, I know. S’alright, I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”
Your fingers trailed down his stomach and covertly ghosted over the skin right atop the waistband of his jeans. Fuck, he still had his jeans on?
You reached for the button, and Steven took the hint, pulling them off of himself rather ungracefully and tossing them to the side. He was left in just his boxers, and when your hand stroked over the hard outline of his cock within them, he hissed, almost as if he were in pain. He recoiled from your touch just slightly, and you felt brief concern at the reaction. He squinted one eye open at you, wincing.
“Careful, please, love, I—don’t want this to end too quickly.”
“Whatever you want, Steven, I’m yours.”
You breathed, fingers caressing the side of his face and beneath his jawline. He grunted at your words, still fighting to maintain control of his body. It only served to turn you on more. When your fingers once more reached for the band of his boxers, he interrupted you with a kiss.
“Patience, love, s’alright.”
"Want you so bad."
You cried against his mouth, absolutely desperate, and you felt the stutter of his exhale as he pulled away.
“I know, I know, but I—Gods, ’m sorry, but I just have to taste you.”
You barely had time to process his words before his head was between your thighs, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the inner flesh between them. Your eyes fluttered closed just as he licked a long, experimental stripe between your folds, making you jerk up towards him involuntarily.
Your cunt was puffy and swollen from your previous orgasm, but Steven wasted no time diving in. He let the tip of his tongue dance around your bundle of nerves, suckling it into his mouth and humming at the taste. The vibrations traveled all the way through you, and you moaned, head thrown back in ecstasy. You tried to force your legs from caging him in, but when he noticed the strain in your muscles, he tucked his arms beneath your thighs and let your knees rest on his strong shoulders, allowing him an even better angle with which to pleasure you.
He changed course, tongue now prodding at your entrance, pushing in and out carefully and slowly. At the feeling of your walls clenching, Steven jostled just slightly, the bridge of his nose rubbing against your clit just right. You cried out, fingers flying to fist at his dark curls, pulling him back in against you.
“Fuck, do that again, Steven, please.”
Steven wasn’t one to deny you of what you wanted. He obliged, repeating the motion, his tongue penetrating you rhythmically and his nose pressed against your clit in a way that had you seeing stars. You thighs tightened around his head, and you felt more than you heard the groan that it pulled from him. You were suddenly teetering on the edge of another orgasm.
“God, Steven, gonna make me cum, don’t stop, please—”
Steven maintained his pace, smart enough to know not to speed up or slow down or change up his rhythm at all as your toes curled. You briefly opened your eyes, and the sight in front of you toppled you over the cliff—Steven’s dark eyes staring up at you, the lower half of his face buried in your cunt, his hips rutting up against the mattress unconsciously as he watched you come undone. You practically sobbed as the shockwaves overwhelmed you, your thighs squeezing Steven’s head and holding him in place as you tugged at his hair. He happily lapped up your arousal, the taste of you lingering on his tongue when he finally pulled away after you had stopped squirming.
You tasted yourself on his lips when he kissed you, and the sight of your slick coating his chin and smeared across his cheeks was one of the most attractive things you’d ever seen. You smiled at him with hooded eyes, still coming down from your high.
“Please, will you fuck me now, Steven?”
You pleaded, and Steven groaned, pressing his still-covered cock against the heat of your pussy.
“Oh, yes, please, can I?”
He asked for confirmation, because of course he did, he’s Steven, and you nodded feverishly, watching with lustful eyes as he pulled his boxers down, his length finally released from the confines of the fabric. It stood at full height, long and big but not too thick, and you practically felt yourself drooling at the sight. His head was flushed a deep reddish purple, sheened with precum that had accumulated there. There was a prominent vein that ran up the underside of his shaft, and all you wanted to do was run your tongue along it. Steven caught you staring and grimaced, moaning lowly.
“Christ, darling, you keep lookin’ at me like that and ’m not gonna be able to last.”
His hand reached down and gave a few strokes to his cock, pumping it as he moved in towards you. He leaned down over you once again, eyes finding yours, and you felt the tip rub up and down your folds a few times. Steven’s lips were parted in pleasure, his breathing ragged. You felt the head of his cock barely breach the entrance of your pussy.
“Is this—are you sure?”
He asked you one final time, fingers reaching to stroke your hair. Instead of answering, you pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, and slowly, slowly, he pushed into you.
The groan that escaped him was hellish, sinful, practically animalistic as he sheathed himself within you, pushing in to the hilt until he was buried completely in the warmth of your walls. Your eyes never left his face, absolutely living for his expressions of pleasure—his pinched brows, parted lips, heavy breaths. His eyes were squeezed shut as he held himself there for a moment, offering you time to get settled. You didn’t need time. He had opened you up plenty, and your wet channel practically swallowed him with need.
“Alright?”
He breathed, checking to see if you were experiencing any discomfort. You nodded at him and offered a roll of your hips upward, your clit rubbing up against his pubic bone deliciously. He whimpered, pulling his cock out just enough before rocking back into you. You mewled, pressing your face into his shoulder as he repeated the motion, pulling out a bit more each time as he gained confidence and momentum. Soon, he was thrusting into you steadily, each move punctuated by barely audible ‘uh, uh, uh’ sounds from his lips as he lost himself in the feeling of you.
“Yes, Steven, fuck. Fucking me so well, such a good boy.”
That awoke something in him, and his pace faltered just barely, hips stuttering as he let out a high-pitched whine.
“Shit, shit, don’t—you can’t just—I’m not gonna last, Y/N, fuck.”
The look on his face was pained, sweat sheened on his forehead from how hard he was restraining himself. You wanted—you needed to see him fall apart.
“Want you to cum for me, Steven.”
You hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, and he whimpered, shaking his head as he continued pounding into you.
“No, please, not yet, want—want you to cum on my cock.”
He sounded desperate, frantic, but you could feel within yourself that you weren’t going to get there soon, and he couldn’t hold out much longer. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him into you as you cradled his face in your hands, forcing his eyes on yours.
“Need you to cum, Steven, please—please, please, need you to cum for me—”
You clenched your muscles, walls clamping down on him, and with a sharp cry of your name, his cum spilled deep inside you, cock fully nested in your cunt as his spend coated your walls and filled you with warmth. His hips kept thrusting into you, almost of their own volition, forcing his seed deeper and deeper into you as he grunted with each move, face contorted in a look of sheer bliss.
Your hands were stroking his back, fingers tracings patterns on the soft skin as he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in the crook on your neck, his cock still sheathed within you.
“Good boy.”
You whispered repeatedly, lips pressed to his temple as he caught his breath and tried to slow the rapid thumping of his heart.
“Such a good boy.”
He let out a sigh, nose pressed into the side of your neck as he closed his eyes, allowing himself a few moments to sit in the moment and really feel it. The softness of your body beneath him, the comforting swirl of your fingers on his back, the quiet hum of praise eliciting from your lips. He wanted to live in this moment forever.
You shifted, just slightly, from beneath him, and he immediately jumped into action. He pressed a chaste peck to your lips before pulling out of you slowly, taking a second to appreciate the view of his cum leaking out of you before he made his way to the bathroom, grabbing a warm wet washcloth to clean you up. When he came back, he just had his boxers on, but the toned taupe of his skin still made you blush. His eyes regarded you warmly, reverently, as he wiped away both of your combined arousals from your folds, touch gentle and careful. When he was done, he reached onto the floor to grab his jumper, sitting back up and offering it to you. You smiled graciously, holding your arms in the air like an expectant child as Steven slipped it over your head, pulling your arms through and straightening it down over your body.
God, you looked good in his clothes.
He crawled beside you, nestling in next to you, body curling to fit the curvature of your side. His head found its place in the crook of your neck, the smell of your skin sweet, and he hummed in contentment, relaxing into you. You smiled softly, reaching up to stroke his hair.
“Is... Is this what you’d normally do after sex?”
You asked carefully, hesitantly, afraid to lose the intimacy of the moment. Steven bristled at your words, just slightly, before he sank further into your embrace.
“I mean... in what little experience I have, yeah, I’d say so.”
He offered, voice laced with grogginess, his eyelids drooping. You giggled quietly at his sudden exhaustion, finding the sight quite endearing.
“So you want me to stay, then?”
He lifted his head at your question, worry reflecting in his big brown eyes.
“Did—do you not want to?”
He asked hurriedly, preparing himself for your rejection, but you shook your head defensively.
“No, no! I’m just—this is about you, and what you want out of sex. Do you... I mean, would you expect me to spend the night?”
Steven’s stare was reminiscent of a puppy as he looked up at you, seeming almost lost. Hesitantly, he nodded his head, confirming that he wanted you to stay with him. You smiled softly, pressing a kiss atop his forehead.
“Great—then I’ll stay.”
He relaxed back into you, eyes closing almost immediately, his breaths slowing. After a few minutes, you’d assumed he’d fallen asleep, but then his voice called out softly in the silence.
“M’sorry, by the way.”
Your brows furrowed.
“Sorry? For—for what?”
A long sigh. He buried his face further into your shoulder, hiding himself.
“I didn’t get to—I mean, you weren’t able to—I wanted you to, you know—before me.”
Oh.
His innocent avoidance of vulgarity melted your heart, as it was obviously something he struggled to speak about regularly. You pulled your head back, turning to face him, and he lifted his eyes, cheek smushed against your collarbone. You smiled at him, a hand coming to stroke his cheek.
“Don’t be sorry, Steven. It was perfect.”
You assured, and although he would normally never believe it, something in your eyes was genuine. His lips turned upward at the corners.
“Yeah?”
He asked, excited at the prospect of your validation, and you laughed shortly, smiling wide.
“Yeah.”
With that, Steven let his body meld against yours, finally allowing himself to relax completely and relish in the feeling of being so close to you.
Your mind was already racing with ideas for tomorrow’s trial.
POINTS OF CONTENTION:
- being open to unconditional care without obligation of reciprocation
- feeling adequate and worthy of affections
- accepting praise and compliments without denial or doubt
TREATMENT: - receive without giving - deserving of everything and anything (should not have guilt over being pleasured) - high praise and validation
Twelve hours, that was the deal. You needed at least twelve hours apart before you could begin the second phase of research. Partially to record the data you needed and begin developing a profile, but mostly because you knew that both the boys and you would need time to recuperate before going at it again.
Especially Steven.
Standing outside his apartment door, you were somehow more nervous this time around than you were yesterday. You’d spent the night with him, wrapped in each other’s arms, and you’d left early that morning, promising to return in the evening after the appropriate time had elapsed. You’d showered, eaten, relaxed, but mostly, you’d planned. The key to this study, you’d realized, wasn’t actually the sex at all—it was about challenging the alters, exploiting their vulnerabilities. Exposure therapy.
Sexual interactions are intimate. They are reflective of some of our deep-rooted, unconscious desires, and are significantly related to events that occurred in our childhood that shaped our attachments styles. Certain sexual preferences, turn-ons, fetishes, and kinks, are indicative of different cognitive dispositions. You were trying to figure the boys out—using what they wanted to get to what they needed.
You had predicted Steven’s diagnosis from the start.
When the door to his flat swung inward, his eyes were crinkled at the corners from his smile. He looked soft—rosy pink cheeks, mussed brunette curls, baggy sweats—almost as if he’d just woken up. You returned his grin, slipping past him and into the threshold of his flat.
The door slammed shut behind him, and you turned to him, surprised to be met with a slow, deep, passionate kiss, his lips lingering on yours for just a moment before he pulled away.
You blinked.
“Wow.”
You whispered, slightly reeling. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks. Steven looked down sheepishly.
“Oh, goodness, I don’t—m’sorry, love, I wasn’t really thinking, I just—missed you, s’all.”
He confessed, rubbing at the back of his neck bashfully. His words pulled at your heartstrings and you walked into him, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your chin on his chest so you were looking up at him.
“No, don’t be sorry, just—took me by surprise.”
You smiled.
“Hell of a welcome, though.”
He smiled, letting out a nervous breath.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You nodded, tilting your head upwards to capture his mouth with your own again. He hummed against you, one hand coming to cup the side of your face and the other pulling you in closer by your waist. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip, and you immediately submitted, parting your lips to grant him full access. He started walking backwards towards the couch, but you pulled away to stop him.
“Bed.”
You whispered, your fuck-me eyes almost making him feel faint. He nodded obediently, kissing you again, and changed direction, guiding you to the other side of the flat. The back of Steven’s calves collided with the mattress and he fell backwards into a sitting position onto the bed, but you stayed standing between his parted legs.
“What’re you doin’, love?”
He asked, laughing almost nervously. You just smirked down at him, leaning over to capture his lips once more. You hands were on his shoulders, traveling down his back and around his neck. His found your hips, fingers digging into the flesh there as you continued your passionate making out. Finally, you pulled away, but stayed close, nose still brushing his. His eyes were closed.
“Steven.”
You whispered, and he hummed in acknowledgement, an expression of contentment on his face.
“Are you ready?”
His eyes fluttered open, his gaze focusing in on you. Your lip was pulled between your teeth, as if contemplating something.
“Ready? For... for what, exactly?”
You leaned a bit away from him, standing up to your full height. You looked down at him, stroking his hair comfortingly as you addressed him.
“We’re—I’m gonna try something, okay? But I need you to know that you can stop me at any time. Do you know the stoplight system?”
His big brown eyes looked up at you, and he shook his head.
“It’s a technique for safe words. So if I’m doing something and you want me to stop, you say red. If you need me to slow down, you say yellow, and if you’re doing okay and want me to keep going, you say...”
“Green.”
He finished for you, slightly breathless with anticipation. You nodded down at him proudly.
“Yeah, you’ve got it, good boy.”
You heard the way his breath caught in his throat at your praise, and you pressed a soft, quick kiss to his lips.
“So—are you ready?”
The way he looked at you—eyes filled with such wonder, such reverence, such infatuation—filled you with so much pride and confidence. God, you wanted to ruin this man.
“Gods, love, you’re makin’ me a bit nervous.”
He admitted sheepishly, but his breathing stuttered as you slowly lowered yourself to your knees in between his legs, placing one hand on each thigh and coaxing them farther apart. He was watching you intently.
“Don’t be nervous, sweetheart, it’s okay. But remember—you just tell me if it’s too much, okay?”
He slowly nodded, waiting earnestly for your next move. You reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it off of him and tossing it to the side. His pants followed shortly thereafter, leaving him only in his boxers. You could see just how hard he already was for you—excitement bubbled in your stomach.
He reached for your shirt, but you tutted at him condescendingly, gently guiding his hands away from you.
“No, sweetheart—this is about you.”
You whispered, returning to your position on your knees in between his legs. He was leaning back, his arms stretched out behind him as he held himself up, watching you. Your fingers were stroking at the skin of his upper thigh, where the leg of his boxers ended. Slowly, your fingers passed over his bulge with a barely-there touch, and he hissed at the ticklish sensation, the muscles of his thighs rippling with strain.
While his head was tilted back and his eyes were closed, you took advantage of his temporary distraction and leaned forward to place opened-mouth kisses on his cock through his boxers. The warm heat from your breath passed over him and he groaned, watching as you finally reached up to remove the final barrier between you.
He shifted his hips up to help, and you pulled his boxers down his legs and off of him completely—now, he was completely naked before you, and you were fully clothed.
Perfect.
You settled back in between his legs, fingers slowly creeping up his inner thigh and towards his weeping length. You looked up at him through your lashes, where he was waiting with bated breath.
“Listen to me—you’re gonna cum whenever you want to, whenever you’re ready, okay, Steven?”
He whimpered in response as your fingers skirted around his base. When he didn’t verbally answer, you stopped.
“Okay, Steven?”
“Yes, yeah, alright, yeah.”
He nodded frantically, acknowledging your instruction, and you rewarded him with a grin.
“Good boy.”
Your fingers finally wrapped around the base of his cock and he sighed, groaning as he watched you lean forward and allow a string of spit to dribble through your lips and down onto his awaiting length. You coated your hand with the slickness and started a slow, steady pace, pumping him with a slight twist of your wrist. He whimpered, particularly sensitive when your thumb stroked at the sensitive head at the end of your long up-and-down strokes.
“Shit, Y/N, oh, Gods...”
He whined, his hips slowly starting to react to your pace by thrusting upward into your fist.
“There you go, Steven, doing so well.”
You praised, speeding up the pace of your hand a bit. His lip was pulled between his teeth, as if focusing intently, and you let your other hand come up to cup at his heavy balls. This earned a low groan from him, his hips jolting with each twist of your wrist.
“Shit, shit, you’ve got to slow down, or else—oh, fuck—”
“It’s okay, sweetheart, I wanna see you let go. It’s okay.”
You whispered sweetly, maintaining your speed but tightening your grip just slightly. The muscles in his abdomen were visibly straining, and you could tell he was close.
“Come on, sweet boy. Cum for me.”
He let out a breathy whine, and you could feel the tightening of his balls as his stomach clenched.
“Oh, fuck, I’m cumming, Y/N, oh, mmmmh—”
You kept pumping him as thick spurts of white spilled from his tip, dripping down the sides of his pretty cock as he throbbed beneath your touch. You allowed his spend to drip over your fingers and knuckles as you continued stroking him, pace slowing just slightly, but not entirely.
His head was thrown back, still reeling with aftershocks, and—fuck.
He jolted when he felt the hot sting of your lips, tongue swirling over the head of his cock, cum still dripping over your hands as your wrist twisted around the base. He cried out, hips thrusting upwards, his legs spasming involuntarily as you began bobbing your head up and down repeatedly, eyes on his face as you watched his face scrunch up in pain.
“Oh, Gods, fuck, fuck, what are you—oh, Gods, s’too much, I can’t, stop, please—”
His hands were fisting at the blankets atop his bed, trying his best not to bury his fingers in your hair as you pulled off of him with a gasp, but your hand kept going.
“You gotta use your words, sweet boy.”
You reminded with a sympathetic tone.
“If you want me to stop, use your words.”
You leaned forward to clean up his release from the sides of his cock, tongue gliding at the same speed as your hand. He was hissing through his teeth, legs still kicking every once in awhile with overstimulation. He wasn’t responding, so maybe you should stop, maybe—
“Fuck, fuck—green! Green, I’m—it’s green.”
He cried, and you wrapped your lips back on his cock, starting to bounce your head once more. The cries that were escaping him were delicious—pathetic whines and whimpers, begging incomprehensibly as you tried to keep his cock hard beneath your touch. It was working, because you could see his abdomen clenching again, and each of his panted breaths was paired with a short grunt.
“Oh, fuck, I don’t—oh, gods, it’s—m’gonna cum again, oh, shit, oooh—”
You pushed down on his cock as far as you could take him, and the second he hit the back of your throat, he felt his orgasm rock through him. His legs curled around your back instinctually, holding you in place as his hips thrusted into your mouth. This was different, though, this—his muscles were contracting, balls tightening, but it wasn’t accompanied by his cum down your throat. You gagged on him and he practically yelped, one hand finally reaching up to grab at your hair. He pulled you off of him, and you gasped for air. Your face was red and there was spit smeared across your cheeks and down your chin. When you looked up at Steven, his eyes were red and there were tears in his eyes. Your hand was still on his cock, pumping slowly. His legs were still twitching.
You stood up, finally releasing him, and he collapsed backwards onto the bed, arms eagle-spread on either side of him, panting. But then he heard the sound of clothes hitting the floor, and when he looked up at you, you were undressing.
He stared at you incredulously, and you smirked at him, discarding your pants and panties simultaneously, leaving you completely bare. You approached the bed again, swinging your leg across Steven's waist to straddle him. You held yourself up just a bit so you were hovering over his cock.
“What, you think we’re done already?”
You teased, sinking down to rub your dripping folds over his still half-hard length. His hips jumped at the feeling.
“No, no, I can’t, not—”
He whimpered, and you leaned forward to shush him, giving him a quick kiss. His bottom lip quivered.
“Such a good boy, Steven—you can give me one more.”
You nodded encouragingly, and he whined, his head pressing back into the mattress with frustration. Your hand reached to stroke at his chest.
“Words, Steven. Say the word, and I’ll stop.”
You offered, suddenly serious, and he took a few deep breaths, tears trailing down his cheeks. When he opened them again, he looked wrecked, but he met your gaze.
“Green.”
It was barely a whisper, but you heard it. You reached down to wrap your fingers around his slick length once more, stroking him to coax him back to full height. He was still mostly hard, as his second orgasm had occurred in the midst of his refractory period, so fairly soon, his tip was prodding at your awaiting entrance and you stifled a mewl.
“There we go, sweet boy. You ready?”
His brows were pinched, but he nodded, and you slowly, carefully sank down on him, burying him into you all the way to the hilt. He was crying now, sitting upright to wrap his arms around you and hold you close against him as you gave him a moment to adjust. His face was pressed into your shoulder.
“Doing so, so well, for me, Steven. Just give me one more, okay? Whenever you want, whenever you’re ready, give it to me.”
You encouraged, lips pressed against his ear, and you slowly lifted up your hips, sinking back down onto him as he whined into you.
“Oooh—oooh—”
“Shh, shh—I know, sweetheart, I know.”
You cooed, cupping the back of his head with one hand as you continued to roll your hips, grinding back and forth against his lap. You were entirely focused on Steven and helping him reach his peak, but still, the way the tip of his cock prodded at something deep inside you was addictive.
“Such a big cock, Steven, fills me up so good.”
He was panting, you could feel his thighs trembling beneath you as you bounced on him, picking up your speed.
“Being such a good boy. Can you give me one more, huh? Think you can?”
He was sobbing, hips jolting every time your weight came to settle back down onto his balls, skin sticky with sweat as you held him close to you.
“Oh, please, please, please, I’m so close, oh fuck—please, I can’t—”
You bounced on him harder, feeling the ripple of tension in his shoulder blades as his body was wracked with sobs.
“Oh, yes, gonna cum, gonna cum, Y/N, gonna—oh, oh, oh fuck, fuck, fuck fuck—”
His teeth sank into the flesh of your shoulder as his cock pulsed within you, and you granted him the kindness of stopping the roll of your hips so he could thrust into you, his seed painting your walls and filling you with warmth. You could feel the hot, wet tears from his eyes against the skin of your shoulder, and you held him close to you, cradling his head against you and rocking him gently.
“Good boy, Steven, so proud of you. Did so, so well for me. My sweet, sweet boy.”
You peppered kisses to the crown of his head, burying your face in his curls as he clung to you desperately, and you stayed there until you felt the drumming of his heart slow and his breathing even out. You slowly, carefully peeled yourself away from him, his softened and sensitive cock slipping out of you as you shakily got to your feet. He whined at the loss of contact, reaching for you, but you shushed him.
“I’ll be right back, okay?”
You followed his lead from yesterday, cleaning yourself up in the bathroom before bringing a damp rag to wipe away the arousal that was drying against his thighs. He hissed at your touch, but you gently cleaned him up, returning to the bathroom again. You considered slipping his jumper on, but for some reason, you felt the need to be as close to Steven as possible. You’d pushed him to his limit, and you wanted to be there for him in every sense of the word.
When you came back to the bed, you gestured for him to crawl up towards the pillows. He obliged, albeit a bit shakily, and you pulled the covers back for him as he curled up beneath them. You joined him immediately after, fitting your body to the curve of his back and wrapping your arms around his warm abdomen. You pressed a few gentle kisses against the back of his neck, the top of his spine, across his shoulders. He hummed in response.
“You feel okay?”
You asked quietly, words muffled in his skin. He scooted away so he could turn to face you. His eyes were red, but there was a glimmer of calmness in them—the high-strung Steven looked truly relaxed.
“Feel floaty.”
You laughed at his drawled words, hands reaching up to cradle his face in your hands. Your thumbs stroked against each of his cheeks gently, soothing.
“You really did so well, Steven. Thank you.”
Your eyes were soft, and you saw the way his lips quirked at the corners at your approval.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to—I mean, if you’d still like to—”
You sent him a glare, and he immediately silenced himself, gaze casting downward and away from you.
“No. This was about you, Steven, about you feeling good and that’s it. It was perfect. I loved it.”
His eyes brightened.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
You assured, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. He sighed, shutting his eyes briefly as a warm, fuzzy feeling overtook him.
“S’just—wish I’d gotten the chance to—”
“Next time, Steven, okay?”
You regarded him carefully, tone gentle. His brows furrowed.
“But—my turn’s done. S’just—Marc and Jake, and then—”
“Next time.”
You reiterated, and when your words finally sank in, the smile that lit up his face was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him, embracing you tightly like he never wanted to let go.
TAGS: @kezibear143 @gingermous
#moon knight smut#moon knight x reader#moon knight#jake lockley#marc spector#steven grant#steven grant smut#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#marc spector smut#jake lockley smut#jake lockley x reader#marvel smut#marvel imagine#moon knight imagine#steven grant imagine#marc spector imagine#jake lockley imagine#moon knight series#projectionistwrites
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T6 Load cell
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Optima Weightech PVT.LTD. Present a New video on the Tank Weighing System. This document video provides brief information about the Tank Weighing System. Contact us, for more details.
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Beer and Sex
Chapter 6 to Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection
Masterlist
Pairing: F!Reader x Joel Miller
Summary: You, Joel and Tommy are at an event in Austin that includes being outdoors, drinking & games! Well, long story short, you and Joel end up heading back to his place for some indoor fun
Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Friends
WC: 3.0k
Type: NSFW
Warnings: No outbreak (AU), Usage of alcohol, Buzzed sex, Dirty talk, Making out, Breast play, Living room sex, You ride Joel, Unprotected sex, Choking kink, Clit rubbing, Denial of orgasm, doggy style & you ride him
A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you
You sat back down whilst laughing. Picking your beer back up, you sipped it and put it back down. You haven't drinken in a while, it's nice to finally do it again. You're usually so busy with work that you never have the time or energy to get some alcohol in your system. Your friends Joel and Tommy convinced you to go with them to this event in town though and when you saw there were drinks, you couldn't refuse.
The only reason Joel and Tommy are here is because Maria is hosting this event. She's very big with the city council and hosts events like this from time to time. You don't mind coming. You're actually enjoying yourself. Just a bit ago you were playing darts with Joel and then tether ball with Tommy. You're slightly buzzed too. You can't get full blown drunk though, you need to still drive home.
As you watched some of the younglings run around and play, you felt the weight of the table increase as Joel sat down. It's a muscular man. He weighs a good bit. "Hey." You said in a friendly tone. "Hello." He replied, sipping his tall boy. "You got another one? Shit, don't make me go get another one too, I still have to drive home." You joked, resting your head in your hand. Joel chuckled. "My house is just a few blocks away and I walked here so I ain't even bothered." Joel stated.
That's right, he lives in the suburbs. That's not something you'd expect from a country boy like him. Then again, being country is defined by where you live. "Where did Tommy and Maria go?" "No fuckin' clue," Joel snickered, "Probably fuckin' in the bathroom or something." He teased. You laughed and nodded. "They are newly weds, what can you expect?" You said whilst giggling. Joel nodded. "True that."
Joel was once married, he even had a daughter with the woman. Joel has been single for years now though. Everyone jokes he's out of commission but he just says he's waiting for the right lady. Sarah, his daughter, is almost twelve. She's getting older and cuter by the second. You've met her quite a bit, even babysat her, she's a dear. Joel told you she's with her mother right now, so he's free.
"At least Maria is getting some. It's been a good few months for me." "Months? Try years darlin' and it ain't by choice." You cackled at his words. He isn't wrong. He's celibate from what you've heard. "Sorry Joel, that has to suck." "It sure fuckin' does." He took a shot of his beer. You nodded and sipped off of yours too. The beer was getting warm. Gross. You sighed deeply. "I'm going to go get a new beer, I'll be right back."
You stood up and headed towards the cooler. This cooler was brought by Tommy himself. He decided to provide it for everyone. It's the good stuff too. You bent over and picked up a new one. It was ice cold to the touch. "Hell yeah." You murmured, cracking it open. You're currently wearing a black tank top and short jean shorts. It's hot during the summer, you have to stay cool somehow.
When you turned around, you saw that Joel's eyes were on you. He looked like he was trying to play it off as if he wasn't just checking you out but he totally was. You can't lie, you've checked him out too. Those big muscles and that handsome face are a sight for sore eyes. He's a hottie, admittedly. You giggled and sat back down beside him.
"You were totally just checking me out, weren't you?" You said with a laugh, tipping your beer into your mouth and drinking it all while looking into his brown eyes. He snorted and nodded. "You caught me." Oh, so he was? You don't mind. You knew Joel would be there and that did somewhat take part in what you're currently wearing.
You've always thought he was sexy. The day Tommy introduced you to him you though that. That was only two years ago. Your guy's friendship has been great but you're awfully surprised the two of you haven't hooked up yet. You've definitely flirted and hit on one another. You've even went as far as to having him lick salt off of your stomach before taking a shot of tequila and that had you soaked.
It is very surprising.
"But you can't deny you were checkin' me out earlier." Joel whispered to you with a husky voice. You giggled. "Guilty as charged. You've also caught me red handed." This isn't just the beer talking. You totally were. When he was putting the cooler down earlier, you were indeed gawking at his veiny, buff arms. You giggled and bit your lip while looking up at him. "How drunk are you?" You asked him. "Not drunk enough." You rolled your eyes at his words.
You looked around the area. You still have no clue where Tommy and Maria are. "I'll shoot him a text. Let's get out of here." He whispered to you. You scoffed and breathed in deeply. "Alright." You giggled. He got off of the picnic table and took your hand in his, helping you out of the table as well. You smiled at him. Your guy's hands stayed interlocked. Is this actually going to happen? Are you going to fuck Joel Miller? After all this time?
"My house ain't too far from here." Joel said to you in a deep voice. "I know." You smiled, walking alongside him. You don't feel drunk. You do feel buzzed. It isn't anything you can't handle. You're a heavy weight. It takes you time to really hit the drunk point. The trees around you and Joel brought you two shade, but you're already too hot, in more ways than one. He looked down at you and chuckled. "I can't wait to fuck you." He admitted. You huffed out. "Good." You bit your lip to hold back a big grin.
You glanced over your shoulder. You hope no one will wonder where you two are. You'd rather keep this between you and Joel for now. "Will we come back once we're done?" "We'll have to, I left my goddamn brother back there." You laughed loudly. "That is true... He'll be fine, right?" "He's a grown man, he's fine. Like I said darlin', I'll text him." You nodded. You just don't want them to come looking for the two of you.
You'd rather not be in the middle of getting fucked when Tommy and Maria show up.
-
As Joel opened his front door and locked it behind him, he chuckled and grabbed you, smashing his lips against yours. You kissed him back. His messy beard scraped against your face. "Mmph." You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck. He picked you up into his arms like you were a feather. You giggled and continued to kiss him. His hands were on your ass cheeks, squeezing them as he took you two to the living room area.
"Baby?" "Hmm?" "Bedroom or living room?" You snorted at his question. At least you get a say in this. You thought for a moment. "Let's keep it fun-living room." "Glady." Joel smirked, kissing you again but this time, his tongue found it's way into your mouth. You didn't mind. It made you even more horny. Your guy's tongues fought for dominance. You wanted to explore every crevice of his mouth. You moaned loudly as he sat you down on him. You could feel his erection through his stained work jeans.
You giggled and kissed him before reaching your hands down to the end of your tank top and pulling it off. Joel just stared in admiration. He thinks you're gorgeous. "Look at you," He purred, "You're beautiful." He whispered. You grinned. "You're handsome, and so sexy." You spoke seductively before licking his lower lip and kissing him again. His hands went to your tits, he squeezed them gently. Joel is more of an ass guy though.
After making out for a little bit, Joel finally pulled away to take deep breaths. "I'm fuckin' twitchin'." He sighed deeply, looking down at his bulge. You think that's the sexist thing ever. You love when a man is vocal about how he feels or what you're doing to him. "I'm so wet for you, wanna feel?" You whispered against his ear. Joel's breath shuttered. "Badly." And his hands went to your shorts, undoing them and helping you out of them as well.
Stepping out of your shorts, you climbed back into Joel's lap and sighed. "Feel." You whispered, kissing his neck and jawline. Joel brought his finger down to your core and pulled your panties to the side. As he dipped his fingers through your folds, he let out a low groan. "So fuckin' wet, just for me, hm?" He whispered, nibbling on your jawline. You giggled. "Just for you." This surely isn't the first time you've gotten wet thinking about Mr. Joel Miller.
Joel swiped his fingers through your folds, picking up all of your juicy wetness. You continued to kiss him. He seemed desperate, like a wild animal. He's hungry for you. You bit his lower lip and once again swiped your tongue along his. You moaned so quietly, it was more of a whimper.
He pulled his finger away and grunted. "Need to feel you from the inside." He murmured as he pulled his cock out of his jeans. Oh yeah, he's big. You're excited. It's been so long, especially for him. You hope you're as good as he'll be to you. Grabbing his member, you yourself pulled your white panties to the side before you then sat down on his dick. Both of you made sensual noises as your folds and cunt enveloped him. He was already so deep inside of you. It feels so good.
"How's that?" You chuckled, your arms around his neck. He snickered and gripped your ass tightly, landing a smack onto it which caused you to jolt slightly. "You feel so good. Now fuckin' ride me." He began to squeeze and slap your ass and you started to ride him. You went slow at first. Your movements were just simple grinds back and forth but you'd occasionally lift your ass up and back down, literally bouncing on his cock.
You wanted to savour this. You haven't felt this good in awhile. Having sex with Joel tonight was not on your agenda of plans but seriously, it is a welcomed surprise. He feels amazing. He knows what he's doing too. Each time he pinches your ass cheeks or spanks you playfully, it either makes you moan or kiss him even harder and more passionately.
Now, Joel is holding your hips. You began to ride him faster too. His dick is so deep inside of you, you can hardly believe it. "I've wanted this for a long time." You moaned out, looking him in the eyes. His eyes got darker and even more full of lust. "Me too babygirl, me too." He then swatted your ass again before going back to squeezing your hips. You're sure you'll have red marks all over your cheeks by later in the evening.
Bouncing on him, each thrust was just a mark bringing you closer to your climax. His member is deep inside of you and is shoving itself against your tight walls with each movement. "Yes baby." He groaned, kissing and licking your neck. He thinks you smell amazing. You did put on your perfume before going to the event. You're glad it's doing it's job.
"Babygirl, turn around, cowgirl, y'know?" You giggled at his words. "Yes sir." You teased and lifted yourself off of him slightly to turn around. You were surprised he asked you to switch positions, but you aren't complaining. You pushed yourself down onto his dick again and you both made whimpering noises. He seems to be feeling good. That's all you want. It's been years for him, you better make it good.
Once you got comfortable, you moaned loudly as he started to thrust up into you. "Joel!" You practically screamed, tossing your head back against his broad shoulder. He cackled and kissed your neck, leaving numerous bites and hickies onto it too. How are you supposed to go into work on Monday? You're sure these'll last a few days, hopefully not. "Need to make sure I still got it." Joel grunted, now he is the one fucking you and man, it's heaven.
Joel noticed your head was still tilted back against his shoulder. He smirked. He brought his left hand up to your neck and held it, choking you now. You moaned and turned your head slightly, kissing his messy hair and giggling. "You're so deep inside of me." You panted. "Yea? You're takin' it so fuckin' well too baby." Joel replied, kissing your cheeks numerous times, making you smile and chuckle.
His free hand, his right one, was one your lower stomach, holding you in place. You wanted to look down to see him moving inside of you, but you couldn't. With his hand on your neck, there's not much you can do with your head. You aren't complaining. You think it's hot to be choked. He does it so well too. "Been thinkin' about fuckin' you for awhile now," He whispered against your ear. His breath was warm. "You feel better than I ever could've imagined." That made you whimper in pleasure.
You felt his right hand slither down from your waist and to your clit. You whimpered. "Oh God!" You whined out as he began to rub your clit fast and with pressure. It felt so good. He works well with his fingers. He continued to thrust up into you, which made the experience a million times better. "I'm gonna cum." You whispered to him. "No baby, not yet, hold it in." What!? How are you supposed to just hold it in? "What?" "You heard me babydoll." He licked behind your ear and bit on your lobe. "Do not cum yet." He sternly stated.
"How?" "Just do it."
How are you supposed to hold back your orgasm? No hookup has ever asked you to hold it back. Actually, they need you to cum quickly or else they'll finish before you. You whimpered and bit your lip. No, you're going to cum. "I can't," You panted, "I just can't." Joel didn't respond. "Joel!" You moaned out, reaching your hand behind his head and tugging on his hair. He grunted and bit down on your neck.
"Cum for me."
That was it. You moaned softly as you coated his cock in your fluids. You let go of his hair. Shaking in his lap, Joel continued to rub your clit until you came down from your high. It overstimed you even. "Holy Christ." You moaned. You went to turn your head to kiss him but he lifted you up and chuckled. "I still haven't finished." He then pushed you down onto the couch, doggy style, and began to pound into you.
You moaned loudly and gripped the couch beneath you. Your knuckles even went white. He moved so skillfully inside of you. Each pump was one of excellence. "Wish I could cum inside of you." He whispered, running his hands up and down your back before he ultimately rested them on your rear. Joel gripped your ass, squeezing it tightly before leaving multiple slaps onto it, all of which made your moan or squeal.
With just a couple more thrusts, Joel finished. He quickly pulled out and stroked himself. He finished all over your ass and lower back. "Fuck sakes." Joel groaned, caressing your ass as he came. You pushed your ass against his manhood and giggled. He spanked you again and snickered. "One sec." He leaned over and grabbed a random wipe, cleaning your ass and back off. He tossed the rag to the other side of the living room and you chuckled.
Joel heaved deeply and lifted you up by your waist and pulled you back into his lap. You were basically completely naked, only in panties whereas he was fully dressed. So unfair. "Was it good?" You asked him, resting your head against the arm of the couch. He glanced down at you, still breathing heavily. "You're a funny girl." He leaned down and kissed you softly. "It was fuckin' glorious." He then nibbed on your jawline, making you giggle cutely.
You hummed and looked up at him. "You're the only man whose ever denied me of finishing, by the way." You snorted. "That's because you've only done slept with boys who finish too quickly. I think it's sexy to see a woman be restricted of her pleasure." You giggled at his words. "It felt better." "That's the point babydoll." He caressed your cheek and you brought yourself closer to his face, kissing him gently.
He breathed in deeply and cupped your face firmly, holding you in place. "Don't convince me to fuck you again." He said with a smile against your lips. "If you can't handle it..." You bit your lip. You acted like you were about to get off of his lap and you suddenly squealed as he tossed you back onto the couch and put you in missionary. Your legs went over his shoulders and you smiled.
"Oh I think I can handle it."
That was where the next of many rounds began.
#the last of us#tlou#joel miller#joel miller smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#tlou2#smut#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#tumblr fyp
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So what happens if You're Athiest? Is it like a ping pong depending on what you did? Or is it more like you choose which judicial system or oblivion. Which does that even count as a belief if you believe in oblivion???
(For context for anyone who missed it, we're talking about this headcanon post, this isn't an actual religious discussion.)
We know, for a fact, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that ghosts exist in Gravity Falls. Let's start with that. This is a universe where, all other matters of theology being up in the air, the existence of the soul and of continued existence after death is Canonically Confirmed And Real.
And so, souls & life after death being confirmably real—they continue to be real whether you believe in them or not.
We don't know much about the afterlife-afterlife in Gravity Falls beyond what little bits we get from Bill. We know he's been to hell and gotten kicked out, and he claims "heaven" is a dimension where you get everything you want. The soul contract on TINAWDC lists "heaven, hell, purgator[y?], big corner, flow state, the dream house, the reincarnation processing center, axolotl’s tank, and consequences hole" as some (but not all) possible afterlives. The Theraprism appears to be an afterlife (Bill shows up there after getting killed, leaving his corpse behind, and he'll remain there until he can reincarnate; and since it's literally located inside a mind, it might be located in the mindscape).
But, while we might not know much about afterlives: we do know afterlives exist.
In most human religions, you go to an afterlife whether you believe in it or not. Believers tend to believe that all humans go to This One Afterlife (or One Of These Available Afterlives Depending On What You Did). Most Christians don't think you can opt out of heaven/hell if you're an atheist. Buddhists don't think you're excused from participating in samsara if you don't think it's real. I doubt the ancient Egyptians believed you'd be pardoned from having your heart weighed if you told Anubis you thought he was imaginary.
You'd be hard-pressed to find afterlife beliefs where what you believe in matters to what afterlife you go to—except in cases where you're rewarded for believing the right thing and punished for believing the wrong thing.
So I am assuming that, if we're talking about a setting where afterlives are canonically real, that's how they operate:
Nobody's setting up afterlives to accommodate the beliefs of people who are wrong about whether souls & afterlives exist
you're subject to an afterlife whether you think it's real or not.
In light of all that, I don't think getting sent to a particular afterlife has to do with belief; I think it has to do with bureaucracy.
If you are born, you are probably the citizen of a country. You didn't ask to be. You didn't consent to being a citizen. But you are one anyway. The government you had no say in and don't even know exists yet decided you belong to them. If you don't agree to be their citizen, tough titties. You were born on the property they've decided is theirs, and/or they consider your parents citizens; so they consider you a citizen too. When you become an adult, they'll ask you to pay taxes to them because they're your country! You never agreed to any of this! But you were born into the system so you're participating in it whether you want to or not. Sometimes you can stop being a citizen, or become a citizen of some other country, but it's very rare, very difficult, and takes a whole lot of paperwork.
I assume that a Generic Non-Denominational Multi-Afterlife setting works the same way. You may be able to choose which afterlife you go to, if you meet whatever criteria there are for transferring to that afterlife; but one way or another, you're going to an afterlife. If you don't choose one, one's chosen for you. You can't opt out of being in the system just because you don't believe it's real.
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