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#what is contract farming
guinevereslancelot · 2 months
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not to be ungrateful but i don't get paid enough at my job lol
#the problem with jobs that people do bc they love the work is that it doesn't pay well and you will be overworked to death#genuinely couldn't quit bc i love the kids too much already but 15 an hour is....not ideal tbh....#how am i supposed to make future plans in these conditions#i cant ask for a raise ive only worked here 3 months but ugh#the only reason i got hired is i finally broke my rule abt the minimum hourly rate i was willing to accept#i applied to the two 14-16 an hour jobs and used the one i already accepted to get this one to gove me 15 instead of 14#but that's still not a lot tbh#need to buy an oven since we havent had a working one since january#and i keep gping ok next time i get paid i will buy an oven#and it hasnt happened yet#and i need.....17k to invest in starting my own business and i will not see a return on that for a very long time 😭#and i have no idea where that money will be coming from lol#fortunately its not that time sensitive except it kind of needs to happen in the next year or two probably but idk#if i dont do what i need to do idk what will happen but i think the issue will become more expensive but also maybe less expensive#but also uglier and make my neighbors mad#but i have no choice but to wait bc i have no money for that lol#anyway#17k is my immediate expense but i also need to come up with the money to eventually buy my parents house somehow#and i dont even make enough to pay the mortgage 😭#fortunately i dont need to do that for a long time but...eventually#anywayssss#how am i supposed to live laugh love in these conditions#i do love working with kids but jts hard work and all my coworkers are petty and hate eachother so its a lot#and i dont make enough money to live fr#im so lucky i live w my parents bc nobody at my job makes enough to live on their own lol#also the sheep that are supposed to be clearing brush got sick and went back to their farm and they're not coming back this year at all#so we need to brush hog it#or contract another farm#im not sure if its even safe w their poop all over the place snd im not getting any communication from the farmers#but it lowkey might be better to get our own sheep but thats so much work i dont want to think abt doing livestock
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fatehbaz · 2 months
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was thinking about this
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To be in "public", you must be a consumer. Or a laborer.
About control of peoples' movement in space/place. Since the beginning.
"Vagrancy" of 1830s-onward Britain, people criminalized for being outside without being a laborer.
Breaking laws resulted in being sentenced to coerced debtor/convict labor. Coinciding with the 1830-ish climax of the Industrial Revolution and the land enclosure acts, the "Workhouse Act" aka "Poor Law Amendment Act of 1834" forced poor people to work for a minimum number of hours every day. The major expansion of the "Vagrancy Act" of 1838 made "joblessness" a crime and enhanced its punishment. (Coincidentally, the law's date of royal assent was 27 July 1838, just 5 days before the British government was scheduled to allow fuller emancipation of its technical legal abolition of slavery in the British Caribbean on 1 August 1838.)
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"Vagrancy" of 1860s-onward United States, people criminalized for being outside while Black.
Widespread emancipation after slavery abolition in 1865 rapidly followed by the outlawing of loitering which de facto outlawed existing as Black in public. Inability to afford fines results in being sentenced to forced labor by working on chain gangs or prisons farms, some built atop plantations.
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"Vagrancy" of 1870s-onward across empires, people criminalized for being outside while being "foreign" and also being poor generally.
Especially from 1880-ish to 1918-ish, this was an age of widespread mass movement of peoples due to mass poverty and famine induced by global colonial extraction and "market expansion", as agricultural "revolutions" of monoculture/cash crop extraction resulted in ecological degradation. This coincides with and is facilitated by new railroads and telegraphs, leading to imperial implementation or expansion of identity documents, strict work contracts, passports, immigration surveillance, and border checkpoints.
All of this in just a few short years: In 1877, British administrators in India develop what would become the Henry Classification System of taking and keeping fingerprints for use in binding colonial Indians to legal contracts. That same year during the 1877 Great Railroad Strike, and in response to white anxiety about Black residents coming to the city during Great Migration, Chicago's policing institutions exponentially expand surveillance and pioneer "intelligence card" registers for tracking labor union organizing and Black movement, as Chicago's experiments become adopted by US military and expanded nationwide, later used by US forces monitoring dissent in colonial Philippines and Cuba. Japan based its 1880 Penal Code anti-vagrancy statutes on French models, and introduced "koseki" register to track poor/vagrant domestic citizens as Tokyo's Governor Matsuda segregates classes, and the nation introduces "modern police forces". In 1882, the United States passes the Chinese Exclusion Act. In 1884, the Ottoman government enacts major "Passport Nizamnamesi" legislation requiring passports. In 1885, during the "Tacoma riot" or "expulsion", a mob of hundreds of white residents rounded up all of the city's Chinese residents, marched them to the train station, kicked them out of the city, and burned down the Chinese neighborhood, introducing what is called "the Tacoma method".
Punished for being Chinese in San Francisco. Punished for being Korean in Japan. Punished for crossing Ottoman borders without correct paperwork. Arrested for whatever, then sent to do convict labor. A poor person in the Punjab, starving during a catastrophic famine, might be coerced into a work contract by British authorities. They will have to travel, shipped off to build a railroad in British Kenya. But now they have to work. Now they are bound. They will be punished for being Punjabi and trying to walk away from Britain's tea plantations in Assam or Britain's rubber plantations in Malaya.
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"Vagrancy" amidst all of this, people also criminalized for being outside while "unsightly" and merely even superficially appearing to be poor. San Francisco introduced the notorious "ugly law" in 1867, making it illegal for "any person, who is diseased, maimed, mutilated or deformed in any way, so as to be an unsightly or disgusting object, to expose himself or herself to public view". Today, if you walk into a building looking a little "weird" (poor, Black, ill, disabled, etc.) or carrying a small backpack, you are given seething spiteful glares and asked to leave.
"Vagrancy" everywhere in the United States, a combination of all of the above. De facto criminalized for simply going for a stroll without downloading the coffee shop's exclusive menu app. "Vagrancy", since at least early nineteenth century Europe. About the control of movement through and access to space/place. Concretizing and weaponizing caste, corralling people, anchoring them in place (de facto confinement), extracting their wealth/labor.
You are permitted to exist only as a paying customer or an employee.
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clambuoyance · 1 year
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[Lovesquare Au]
Part 0 || Next >>
I watched the mlb movie and caught up w the show so I got au brainrot again 💀 My first post was more silly and had smaller snippets but somehow I got carried away and ended up drawing a lot more than the first time around. I’ll post it in parts tho so I don’t overload one post 🙏
In short, Tim -> likes Conner…but is fond of Superboy? Kon -> likes Robin, but has gotten to know Tim a lot better.
And the timeline/world for this au is a big mishmash of 90s comics/ROTS movie/TT03/2000s comics and headcanons, so in summary for backstory for this post especially:
Superboy - during Superman’s death, he was created at Cadmus (w funding from Lex) and told he was Superman’s clone, even if he is a lot younger and different. Like the comics/my headcanon, he is fascinated by the celebrity life and Lex who promised him he’d be as great as Superman, assigned him Rex Leech who would be his personal agent/pr manager/etc. Lex was kind of like…his funder and sponsor that promoted him as the guy that would give new hope in Supermans absence.
Flash forward to Superman’s return, he decides to go on a world tour/become disillusioned with celebrity life until Clark comes and takes him to the farm and suggests he lives as Conner Kent to get away from the likes of people like Lex and Rex lol. So he’s not connected to them by contract anymore but he will do things out of obligation (like being a bodyguard at a party)
In this au, Lex doesn’t know Conner is Superboy either, and he hasn’t told Kon to what extent he was involved in Kon’s creation (yet…) but he’s hinted at it before
Tim - in this au, he’s also been operating as Robin for a longer time but is recently dealing with also becoming Tim Drake-Wayne and preparing to become the possible successor to Bruce Wayne’s company so that’s why he’s at this fancy party 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ I haven’t quite decided how much of his backstory to adapt to this au specifically but he becomes Robin in a similar way as his debut with becoming Robin bc he sees that Batman is lost without one and Batman needs a Robin. By the time this au starts he’s gone to different schools and I guess is going to a new one where Conner is also attending? Also his parents are now dead in this 😔 and he’s very secretive compared to Superboy and is the one that attaches more weight to a secret identity
they somehow go to the same school idk don’t worry about it i throw logic out the window in this regard for my silly lovesquare shenanigans 🫡 the World building isn’t the main focus it’s just a backdrop to their dynamic anyways . Here. Take my cringe.
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misctf · 1 month
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Country Living
When he stopped to help you on the side of this lonely country road, you couldn’t have been more grateful. You didn’t expect your car to breakdown on these desolate backroads. Nor did you expect a lack of cell service. Your years studying in college didn’t exactly give you the knowledge on how to diagnose and fix cars. But based on all the smoke, you figured something was wrong.
“Aw, don't you worry none, I'm right happy to help y'all out.” He removed his ball cap and ran his hand through his short brown hair, “Name’s Bucky. What brings y'all to this neck of the woods?”
He was certainly taller and more muscular than you- not to mention ripe with the smell of a hard day’s work. And you could tell he was looking you over, the juxtaposition couldn’t have been clearer. Country vs city boy, manual laborer vs keyboard warrior, dropped out of high school vs college educated. The list could go on. But despite the bias you held towards these country folks, you were happy he was helping. And so you introduced yourself and expressed your sincere gratitude. Bucky smiled and gave you a bone crushing handshake.
“Ain't no trouble at all, I'm just glad to help out.” He smiled warmly, his dark eyes, while lacking intelligence, were filled with kindness and just a bit of mischief.
He winks at you and you felt your heart flutter for just a moment. Maybe it was the way his stubble framed his tanned face. Or the way the sweat dripped from his muscular arms as he worked on your car. Or perhaps it was the occasional glances he gave you and the sly smirk that told you he knew you were checking him out.
“I reckon I know what's wrong. Just need to grab a tool from my garage.” He said, wiping the sweat from his brow, “You care to join me? Looks like you could use a sip of somethin’.”
It was true. In the sweltering heat, you were certainly thirsty. And while part of you wanted to stay with your car, you felt beckoned to go with him. And so you did. You climbed into his pick-up truck and watched as he revved the engine. And before long, you were cruising down the old country road with your car disappearing from sight.
“Well, dang if this ain't my favorite tune!” Bucky said, turning up the volume, “You figure you into this kinda music?”
It was some country song. One about cars, beer, and living on a farm. Not something you’d listen to voluntarily. But as Bucky sang in his southern twang, you found your foot tapping along. Soon you were mouthing the words, almost as if you knew the song by heart. And a moment later you joined in with him, the two of you putting your hearts into every lyric. You barely noticed the southern twang that garnished your voice.
“Well, I'll be darned! Can’t believe you like these kinda tunes. No offense intended, but you don't quite fit the mold, do ya?” He says with a chuckle.
Bucky gives your arm a playful punch and you look down at the exposed, tanned skin of your bicep. Your muscles were contracting and seemingly getting larger, highlighted nicely by the wifebeater that clung tightly to your skin. You look up at Bucky and he gives you a wink. Again, you feel comforted by his kind smile and playful dark eyes. You turn away and absentmindedly run a hand over your growing biceps. So firm and tight, the skin somewhat weathered. But deep down you know something isn’t right. Its nagging at you, begging for you to say something. To at least find out what’s happening to you. You want to tell Bucky, but he’s just pulled up to his garage.  
“Mind givin’ me a hand findin’ my toolkit?” Bucky asks. You nod quickly- your anxiety being pushed deep into your subconsciousness. And as Bucky enters the garage, he pulls off his sweaty wifebeater, “Don't pay me no mind, it sure gets mighty hot 'round these parts. You’re welcome to do the same.”
And you follow his example. As you do, you catch a whiff of your pits. The musk that invades your nostrils is a far cry from the vegan deodorant you applied this morning. Moreso, your usually well-trimmed pit hair is now a curly damp bush of dark brown hairs that poke out when you lower your arms. The smell makes you dizzy and you feel like you might fall over, but Bucky lends you a hand.
“Don’t go faintin’ on me now.” He says with a grin, “We got a lotta work to do.”
“Don't you worry 'bout me none, I got this here handled.” You say- the words leaving your mouth without much input from your brain. Bucky’s eyes light up and he grins.
“I shoulda known that.” His laugh fills your ears and you swear it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard. He notices you admiring him, “Gotta find those tools now.”
You nod and start rummaging through his garage and workbench. You pick up a wrench and place it down. Then another and another. You never really needed to learn basic mechanic stuff, let alone the names of wrenches. You were more focused on your degree. Your degree in... In...? You stare at the composite wrench in your hand and your eyes narrow. You were studying something at that univer... uni... book-learnin’ place of yours, right? Your thoughts are distracted when some oil spills on your hands.
“Gosh darnit.” You mutter, wiping the oil on your work jeans. Work jeans that were stained and torn from years of laboring.
You turn towards Bucky to say something, but instead find yourself gawking. His perfect stubble across his face, the sweat gleaming on his firm and toned muscles, and the way his chest hairs frame his pecs. Your dick gets hard and you quickly start to massage your bulge. And when you see how well his work jeans fit tightly around his juicy ass, you can’t but help let out a whistle.
“You say somethin’?” He asks, turning to face you, “Yeehaw! Look at you!” He says, clearly gawking.  
You turn to catch a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror and your eyes widen. You bounce your juicy pecs, appreciating the light dusting of hairs that decorate them. You raise your thick, meaty arm and flex, causing your muscles to bulge. And then you look at your face. It had squared out a bit, giving it a masculine edge and your cheeks now sported stubble. You felt powerful, and you couldn’t help but continue to flex.
“Hey there big fella.” You let out a masculine moan as Bucky comes from behind you, his arm reaching around, and his hand grabbing a fistful of your muscle tit, “You’re bigger’n a bull in springtime!” You just nod, unable to produce words as pleasure courses through you from his teasing hand, “It sure does get lonesome out here in these parts. Reckon I wouldn’t mind some company, if it ain’t too much trouble.”
He spins you around, your bodies pressing up against one another. His hand moves down your abs and then down your work jeans. He’s staring deep into your eyes now, a primal lust replacing the prior warmth from earlier. And for the first time, you feel lost. Scared even. As though you’re going down a path you wouldn’t be able to back away from. The end of one chapter of your life and the start of another you weren’t sure you wanted.
“Wait a minute... somethin’ don’t feel right. I... this ain’t who I am.” You say, unable to talk like you used to.
“Now, don’t go overthinkin’ it. Just keep your eyes on me.” Bucky whispered, his hands working to undo the buckle on your jeans.
You watch as he pulls down your pants and slowly gets down on his knees. Your enlarged, throbbing dick continues to grow, adding inch after inch. Bucky is nearly salivating as he comes face to face with your monster, and without another word, his tongue traces along the shaft. You moan as his mouth expertly works your cock. He bobs up and down, taking its entirety into his mouth. You feel as his hands wrap around your waist and he grabs a fistful of your muscular ass, causing you to let out another deep, masculine moan. You can feel your dick throbbing, your balls growing heavy with your seed. And as he expertly works the head of your cock, you can feel it. You’re getting close... so close. And then it stops. You’re breathing heavy now, and you look down at him. A sheen of sweat covers your body, dampening your body hair and filling the air with your country musk.
“Wh... why’d ya stop?” You breath out.
Bucky smirks, “You sure 'bout this, darlin’? Leavin’ behind all that city livin’ and book-learnin’? Just you and me, livin’ simple out here?” He licks along your shaft again, “Once you say yes, that’s it. No turnin’ back, no second thoughts. You sure you’re ready for that?”
Was this what he wanted? To bring you so close? To send you into a horny frenzy? To make it so that in this moment, all you’d be able to say was yes? With a smirk and a wink, he went back to sucking your cock. And as he did, you could feel it. You could feel your brain shrinking. Your memories growing up in suburbia vanished. As were your memories of going to college in the city. Nerdy interests like videogames and comic books vanished from your brain, and you felt terror as you forgot about your friends and family. Everything that made you you was vanishing from your mind. Instead, you could feel new interests: farming, hunting, woodworking, lifting weights, and drinking beer with your husband after a long day. Your fashion sense simplified: wifebeaters and work jeans, and honestly going shirtless was preferred. And as your eyes dimmed to reflect your lack of intelligence, and Bucky bobbed up and down on your dick, you finally came, releasing all of who you used to be. And as you filled your husband’s eager throat, you blacked out.
If someone told you who you used to be in your past life, I’m not sure you would go back. When the police came by a few days after your transformation with a missing persons poster of some kid, you had no idea who they were talking about. You quickly forgot all about that encounter. You had more important things like fixing the truck. But before you did that, you should check on Bucky. It’s been a few days, and your balls were mighty full.
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harryspet · 1 month
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homestead [5] r.cameron
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[warnings] dark!rafe cameron x pregnant!mom!reader, farmer!rafe, pogue!reader, jj maybank x reader, kidnapping, dominant!rafe, dad!rafe, descriptions of birth, NONCON, little editing,READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+
A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!
word count: 3.1k
In which you settle into a new routine on the farm and your new life takes shape around you.
homestead masterlist
Your ring finally fit again, the swelling in your hands having gone down. It was beautiful, you realized again, and a reminder that you were more than Rafe’s captive. The paperwork didn’t matter to him, and the formalities were meaningless in his eyes.
His connection with you was primal, bound by something more profound than vows. He would love you in sickness and health and vowed to provide for you and your baby, no matter the cost.
Two months have passed since you gave birth to a healthy baby boy. You had longed to meet him, but your pregnancy had been filled with anxiety. Despite your hopes, you couldn’t shake the fear that something would go wrong during your home birth. And in the end, you had no control over the most important day of your life. Rafe had promised to be open-minded, but you soon realized his words were hollow.
He hired a midwife, an older, experienced nurse named Mabel, whom you had met twice before the big day. When your water broke, she was at your home within thirty minutes, a testament to her dedication. Despite the fear and anxiety you felt, Mabel was a steady presence. She guided you through each contraction, her hands firm yet gentle, her voice calm and reassuring.
She held your hand throughout the process and praised you when you felt you were at the end of your rope. Hunched over the edge of the master bathtub, warm water caressing the naked bottom half of your body, you faced a raging storm inside you. The pain was indescribable, but you felt a responsibility to your unborn child. The least you could do for him was try your hardest. 
You screamed loud enough you thought you might lose your voice entirely. You expected Rafe to falter, to show signs of fear, but his resolve didn’t falter. He hadn’t lied before about his confidence in you, about how deeply he believed you’d be a good mother. You could see in his eyes that he was the most proud of you that he’d ever been. 
“She’s an old lady, but she’s got grandkids. Three boys and two girls. I’m sure they want to see her again. If you say anything out of line, I’ll make sure she doesn’t ever leave here,” He’d warned you earlier, and his threat lingered in the air. You focused on the baby just as you had since you arrived here.
You cried even more after your final push when your son’s cries filled the room. They echoed, the most beautiful sounds you could hear in that moment, and you were happy to be able to hold him immediately. 
In that moment, the house you associated with being controlled turned into a home. You’d endured here and brought life into the world despite everything. 
You had braced yourself for the sight of JJ, but instead, your baby looked like any other newborn—red-faced, furrowed brow, and already expressing his displeasure at the world. Fragile and tiny, he was a perfect, delicate being. Surprisingly, you managed to walk to the bedroom that night. Mabel and Rafe helped you through your exhaustion beyond anything you’d ever known. The constant cries of your baby kept you alert, preventing you from drifting off.
Kai, your baby boy, was carefully assessed by Mabel. She was the one to cut the umbilical cord, a request you’d made to her during your last meeting. She wrapped a warm towel around his body and checked his heart rate, made sure he was able to breathe correctly by suctioning his airways and placed him back on your chest when she felt he didn’t need any immediate care. You couldn’t remember exactly, but you could’ve sworn she complimented you. You were a natural, and at that moment, you believed her.
Never in your life had you done something so natural, so innate, and now the heart in your chest was open in a way you didn’t realize it was capable of being. Open for Kai. You loved him instantly, in a way you’d never felt towards anyone – not even JJ. 
You cried the entire time. Your cheeks were wet with tears, but your body moved the way it needed to. 
Throughout it all, you cried. Your cheeks were damp with tears, but you moved as needed. You cradled Kai while Mabel tended to your injuries, checking for hemorrhaging and monitoring your vitals. She continued to guide you, and though you knew the real challenge was just beginning, you were grateful for her support. This wasn’t how you envisioned it, but dwelling on it wouldn’t change anything.
Despite how close you were to falling asleep, this was the time you had to learn because Mabel wouldn’t be here forever. You wished you’d read more books about parenting like Rafe had suggested when learning to breastfeed. You were clumsy with that part of things, unsure of the positioning, and you battled with the fear that you wouldn’t be able to produce enough.
Now, two months later, you worried for the time that Kai wouldn’t need you. He was so tiny, to little to think about at that time, but you hated to admit how much you enjoyed the feeling of being needed. You felt it with Rafe now that he relied on you to keep the house together and the more intimate ways that he needed your attention. 
It seemed he’d had the time frame of four to six weeks embedded in his mind. Four to six weeks without sex to allow for proper healing. During that time, he had kept his distance, allowing you to heal. But once your body began to return to normal, and you could swap the adult diapers for regular underwear, you noticed a change in him. There was a raw, almost animalistic instinct in him that recognized when your body was ready again. The shift was subtle but undeniable, and you were drawn back into his orbit. 
Rafe had started growing out his facial hair, which you had playfully dubbed a “dad stache.” That nickname once led to a playful tackle and laughter-filled tickle fight that filled you with joy. You had expected to see less of him with the baby as an excuse to keep you apart, but instead, he adapted. He worked from home more often, bringing Kai with him and letting him nap in a bassinet beside his desk.
You thought you’d be weary of them being alone together as you were still getting used to this new Rafe. To you, he was still the guy who did lines of cocaine at high school parties and perfectly drove a yacht when his blood alcohol was way over the legal limit. There were still lots of moments where he needed your help, but he seemed to take pride in being able to handle Kai on his own. 
Now and then, you’d get an eerie feeling, realizing you’d settled into a routine. You’d spend weeks happy, not crying or thinking of JJ and Pope. It hit you like a ton of bricks when you remembered, and you’d often go quiet. It was a pit of sadness that was hard to pull yourself out of. 
As you looked down at your beautiful ring, you marveled at how normal it felt to wear it. Keeping it in its box seemed like a waste, especially since the ring wasn’t to blame for past wrongs. It could symbolize whatever you choose to make of it. When you glanced up, Rafe was walking through the front door. Molly greeted him with enthusiastic barks until he quieted her with a gentle shush and a pat behind her ears. He correctly assumed Kai was sleeping.
You folded your hands behind your back, watching the smile that pulled at his lips. He flipped his ball cap so the brim was facing behind him, undoubtedly to keep his locks from his face. Your eyes trailed down to his t-shirt and then his arms, seemingly having grown even more prominent when you’d been reunited with him. The way he looked in work clothes certainly wasn’t fair. He looked even more like himself, better than ever than he had in a blazer and tie. 
“Hey,” His crystal eyes found yours, “How’s it going?”
The whisper in his voice, this new tone the two of you now spoke in because of the baby, was the icing on top. You squeezed your thighs together, grateful for the long smock dress you were wearing, officially signaled to you how out of whack your hormones were. 
“Lunch is ready,” you said quickly, pointing to the neat plate of caprese sandwiches you’d made. 
“Looks great, Honey. I’m starved.”
He walked by you, towards the the sink to wash his hands, but you were looking away. You grabbed two plates and two glasses, setting them down in front of the kitchen island’s bar stools. You started making your plate before you poured both of your glasses of pink lemonade. 
“This a recipe from the book?” He asked before immediately chugging down half of his glass. 
“No, I kind of just threw together what we had in the fridge,” You answered, grabbing ahold of your sandwich. Rafe was already taking a massive bite out of his, “How is it?”
“Fucking delicious. Is that pesto?” He responded, his mouth a little too full. 
“Yeah,” you chuckled, taking a bite of yours. “Pesto, tomato, mozzarella, and spinach. And that ciabatta bread you get from the market. It’s so good.” You recited the ingredients, deciding that you were quite impressed with your work. 
“Reminds me, I need to go down there soon. Make a list of everything you need, will you?”
You nodded, “I will.”
The thought of going with him crossed your mind. Being inside for so long was starting to make you slightly agoraphobic. Now that you have Kai, you understand that you need to protect him and keep him from the dangers of the outside world. 
After lunch, Rafe pitched in to help with the kitchen clean up while you prepped ingredients for dinner. Tasks you’d never learned in foster care, like defrosting meat properly or dicing vegetables, were becoming more familiar.
You stole glances at Rafe, of his muscular back that you could see clearly when he bent over the sink and his long fingers splayed out over a cloth as he dried dishes. To gain some space, you took the baby monitor from the counter and quietly moved down the small hallways near the kitchen, deciding to catch up on some laundry. With Kai, there was even less time in the day to get things done, so you’d begin cramming your chores into his nap time. 
You were listening to the rhythmic, mechanical hum of the washing machine, folding towels on the counter space near the window. Hands-on your hips jolted you from the escape your mind had reached, completing such a monotonous activity. 
There was no point in saying his name; you knew it was him, and you froze, letting the unfolded towel you were holding crumple beneath you. He pressed into you, pinning your front to the counter. The height of the counter, right at your waist, allowed him to wrap his arm around your front and bend you over. 
“I’m doing something!” You yelped when he pushed he pushed your front back down after you tried to straighten yourself. He pressed his face into your neck, chuckling, seemingly amused at your defiance. 
“You know what you do to me, don’t you?” He grunted, and your eyes widened as you felt him hiking up your dress. He made sure you felt exactly what you did to him, hard and pressing against your bottom, “You feel how hard you make me?”
“I’m serious,” The warmth of his breath sent shivers down your spine, and deep down, you were grateful for the friction. It had been so long since you’d been touched the way you needed. This isn’t how you wanted it to happen and it certainly was a stark contrast to how he’d treated you when you were further along in your pregnancy. There was no passionate makeout or a gentle massage. It reminded you of what you already knew he was capable of, “Rafe, please–”
He kicked open your legs, pressing into you harder, one hand firmly on your back as he pressed you into the counter, “You don’t need to fight it. You’re mine, remember? I take care of you.” 
“Yes, just please–” His palm slammed hard down on your bottom, and you gripped the towels in front of you tightly. Whatever view he was getting of you was pleasing. He brought his hands down several times, surely leaving bruises and making your legs tremble as you tried to escape the pain, “Rafe, stop! That hurts!” 
He shushed you, “Stop fucking moving then,” He continued his assault, only stopping when you gained enough strength to still your legs. You kept them still as you could despite how the skin of your bottom burned. He stepped backward. You didn’t dare move again, and you heard the clinking of his belt and the undoing of his zipper, “Atta girl, stay bent over, but reach back and pull your panties down.”
“Rafe, please don’t be so rough,” Your voice was low as you tried to settle down your racing thoughts. 
“Honey,” His voice was raw, slightly pleading, “I need you like this. Pull your panties down.”
You felt the same hunger, needed to quench the same thirst, but demons haunted him. He could be gentle when he wanted but this is what he truly desired. You cringed when you heard him spit, assuming it was into his hand because you were scared to look back at him. His hand was now lubricated; you heard him pumping at his length. 
Slowly, you reached behind to pull down your panties, revealing more of the bottom he’d just bruised, “Fuck,” He cursed, “Touch yourself, Honey.”
You did as he said, knowing the feeling would be more soothing than him spanking you again. Mostly, you were hesitant, knowing that you were revealing how wet you already were, how just looking at him earlier left stickiness on your thighs. 
“You like when I tell you what to do, don’t you?”
“Rafe,” You pleaded, and he knew what that meant. 
“You need someone like me. Tell you what to do. No thoughts in your pretty little head,” You felt him come closer as you continued to rub slow circles, “Yeah? Tell me, Honey.”
“I … I like it,” You needed him inside you and for the process to hurry itself up. Your mind was emptying; all you knew was that every word and every inch he came closer made you feel like you were on fire. 
“What do you like, Honey?”
“I like … w-when you tell me what to do.”
“You need me, don’t you?”
“Yes, Rafe,” You moaned, “Just … fuck, please Rafe–”
“Tell me,” A hard spank made you yelp. You watched as he placed the same hand against the counter, right by your face. You kept circling. 
“Please, can you put it inside?” You begged softly. 
“So polite,” He praised, and you felt him at your entrance. You expected him to enter you slowly, to torture you, but Rafe slid inside you in one swift motion. You cried out as his other hand roughly grabbed your waist as he drove into you harshly. 
It was painful before it was pleasurable. He grabbed your arm so you were no longer touching yourself before pinning both your wrists behind you. You watched the baby monitor in front of you fall over at the rough motion. 
The counter’s edge dug into your hips, his length nudged against your cervix, your ass was throbbing from the spanking, but you hung onto that feeling of finally feeling filled. His grunts filled the small room, along with the steady thrum of the washing machine and the soft static of the monitor. 
There was nowhere to go, and his wrists only tightened, “I’m gonna put another baby in you,” Almost against your will, your climax came faster than you realized, and it tore through you hard and fast. Rafe took it as a sign that your body wanted this. This was the first time he could get you pregnant, and you were naive to think he would want to take things slowly. 
“Rafe, I can’t.”
“You will; you’re doing so good for me,” He spoke huskily, ignoring you, his pace still relentless. Tears of pleasure and pain filled your eyes and escaped down your cheeks, “I’ll show you … Fuck, I’m so lucky.”
His body tensed as he spilled into you with a final and forceful thrust. As he let go of your wrists, his hands trailed over your hips, his grip starting to soften. You stayed there, frozen, as he kissed the side of your neck and then your temple. 
In the aftermath, a softness emerged in his tone, “You okay?”
When you didn’t answer, his arms tightened around you, lifting you off your feet. Numb and strangely satisfied, you wrestled with a creeping regret. Part of you questioned whether you should have fought harder, but another part wondered if this was simply how things were meant to be—if this was what you deserved.
With panties still loose around your thighs, Rafe brought you upstairs to the shared bedroom. He placed you on your feed inside the bathroom before helping you out. You folded your hands in your lap, looking down at your ring. “Relax,” he said, “Clean yourself up.”
“But Kai-”
“I’ll check on him,” Rafe assured you.
“He’ll need a feeding soon.”
“Clean up first, lay in the bed, and I’ll bring him to you.”
“Okay,” You agreed. 
There was no apology from him—only an acceptance of his own nature and an expectation for you to do the same
You showered like he’d instructed, but that didn't take away the feeling of him being deep inside of you. Your bottom stung worse under the warm water, but you accepted the small amount of refreshment it offered. You dressed in a soft, white robe before you climbed into the bed. The rest of the afternoon was quiet. 
Rafe sat beside you as you fed Kai, his gaze steady and watchful. Thirty minutes later, the three of you settled into a peaceful mid-afternoon nap: Kai nestled in his bassinet by your side of the bed, and you resting in the secure embrace of Rafe’s arms.
You don’t forget your old life because you choose to, but because your heart needs to make space—space for Kai and the future Rafe is determined to build within you. There was no room left for pain.
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I hope you enjoyed it! I'm not sure if I want to add anything else, I feel like this could be considered a good conclusion. Let me know your thoughts!
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lemonmaid · 5 months
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You know what I love chat? Reincarnation.
Imagine being Sukuna's lover in every universe, in every life, every time stamp, but not surviving a single one.
Sukuna remembering every, e v e r y single one. The anguish, the raw feeling he feels every single time watching you die.
Warnings: slowly crippling insanity, yandereish, pregnancy, male pregnancy, omegaverse, mention abortion, gender neutral reader but the first and second are female and male, child birth, sacrificing
First.
It was a typical love story, a farm boy meeting a daughter of a shaman. When Sukuna first started courting, the man of the house, (Name)'s mother, told him that he had bad, very demonic energy and needed to be cleansed. (Name) and Sukuna rolled their eyes and eloped.
Sukuna rushed to his shared home with you. He was in the fields working in the blistering summer heat when a messenger ran towards him, telling him his wife was in labor.
He felt ecstatic. He prayed to the gods that your delivery would be safe.
Appernlty no gods bared him that request.
"Mrs Ryomen!! Relax".
(Name) let out a pained cry, their stomach contracted, tighting to move the babe from their stomach, "I- FUCK! I CANT!".
Midwives held onto (Name)'s hands, easing (Name) onto their knees, "Ma'am- you have to push-".
Sukuna slammed open the door, hearing his wife's crys, "I'm here!!".
(Name) looked at Sukuna with teary eyes, "Suki- OH GODS!".
Sukuna rushed to (Name)'s side, holding her hand, "Breathe my love-".
(Name) let out a scream, the midwives speaking amongst themselves. A small cry was heard, "it's a boy sir".
Sukuna held a proud smile on his face, looking down at his wife to see their reaction.
(Name) looked at Sukuna in a daze and back at their son, "he's beautiful Suki....".
Sukuna looked at (Name) with worried eyes, looking at the midwives, "something- hey- something is wrong!!".
One of the midwives looked under (Name)'s nightgown before going pale. One rushed out of the small hut. Sukuna gave his son to a midwife, before putting his focus on his wife, "hey hey hey, look at me, don't close your eyes".
The doctor didn't show up untill three hours later, but by that time (Name) was gone.
Sukuna looked at his crying son, his heart heavy, his mind weaked.
'I would do anything to bring them back'.
'Anything?' A voice rang out.
Sukuna looked backed at his crying son, then at the marbled statue at the altar.
That day, Sukuna murdered his own blood for a gamble with a hinnagami. It wasn't until his death that he knew what he wished for.
Second.
When Sukuna awoke, or when he first gained consciousness; he was in a different world or what he concluded a different universe.
Alphas, betas and Omegas.
It was... peculiar, different, but when he found you again, he stopped caring. You were a male this time, a beta male. It didn't matter to him. You were his mate, his soul mate, and he wasn't going to lose you this time.
"I want you to take birth control".
You looked at him with a deadpan face, "Okay werido".
"I'm serious".
You sighed. You've only dated or courted Sukuna for a year, and it felt like he knew everything about you, he had his quirks but it didn't make you love him any less.
"Baby." You reached over, grabbing his waist, "I'm a beta.... I can't get pregnant. "
"Sir, I'm surprised to say this, but you're pregnant".
Sukuna felt his heart drop to his chest. You were flabbergasted, "HOW!?" Both of you said in allusion.
"It looks like you're just.... an omega in terms".
Sukuna growled, "in terms of what? He doesn't have a scent nor-".
"I understand that, sir, your mate has.... we just need to do further testing".
After the doctor left the room, Sukuna has his eyes on you. "You need to get an abortion".
Your eyes widen, "excuse me?".
"You need to remove the thing-".
"That thing is our pup-".
"It's going to kill you-".
"You don't know that! People give birth every day, and it there's, like, barely a chance of death! We live in a time of technology! Not like, the stone age!".
Sukuna huffed, "I think....".
"I think you're just scared, baby..." You grabbed his hand, "... it's..... I know you're scared and I am too, but I want this with you... I'm ready. " You smiled softly at Sukuna, your smile relaxing him.
You were five months pregnant when you died. Sukuna could've laughed. It wasn't this pregnancy that killed you. No, it was a freak accident. Who would've thought that a fire happened at your work trapping you inside on your last day before maternity leave.
Three
When Sukuna awoke again, he vowed to just convince you (trap you) to stay at home. This time, he would get a vasectomy when he was of age.
Sukuna searched for you.
He didn't care about this world.
He just wanted to find you.
He found you.
But you were already dead.
20
In this life, luckily, he had the chance to grow up with you. You both went to the same school, became highschool sweethearts.
War broke out, separating you two.
No matter how much Sukuna fought against it, he was drafted. Sukuna didn't care who he hurted, he just wanted to go back home to you.
Which is why he cut his own foot off. He heard of other men doing the same thing, so why couldn't he?
While waiting in the discharge center he found out that his home town had been bombed.
Sukuna started hating humanity.
He hated this curse.
He hated that no matter what lifetime he was in, he could never have you to himself.
489
This life started out strange. He was born back into the Hiean period. But he couldn't find you. Instead of killing himself to reset the life, he decided to take centuries long frustration on humanity, it was a good run, people called him "King of Curses".
Instead of dying, cruelly, he was punished by being sealed. During that he rest he could only think of you and only you, how beautiful every form, every life you've had, you were still breath taking.
He couldn't stand the fear in your eyes. He came back, and here you are staring at him like he is a monster. Sure, this isn't his body. And yes, you just saw him take over your student's body. But it doesn't matter anyways, he's back.
And no one is going to take you away this time.
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teashellscape · 5 months
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Harvey x reader: massages (minors dni)
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Pairing: sdv Harvey x reader
Synopsis: after a rough, long day on the farm Harvey decides he wants to give you a nice massage with a happy ending.
Warnings: 18+ (MINORS DNI), smut, fluffy smut, reader described as having a vagina, massage with a happy ending, oral (reader receiving), toys being used (reader receiving).
Word count: 2.37k
You trudge your way back into the farmhouse, body burning and aching all over; it was always a long day when you had to move heavy stuff about the farm, despite how much you love your work, you always hated those days. Especially when those days occurred mid summer. You walk in and spot your husband over in the kitchen drinking a glass of wine and you slump down on one of the armchairs in the room. You close your eyes and lean your head back before hearing Harvey's footsteps come closer, he places his hands on your shoulders and gives them a nice firm squeeze. "You look like you could use a good massage tonight." He says lowly and gives you a kiss on the head.
"Mmm that would be nice." You look up at him with a small smile and he leans down and plants a kiss on your lips.
"Okay, go upstairs and lay down, I'll be up in a minute." He says giving you one more kiss before you stand up and make your way over to the stairs. "Do you want a glass of wine honey?" He calls over.
"Oo yes please!" Once you get into your shared bedroom you sit on the bed and begin stripping off leaving on just your panties, you can't be bothered to put anything away neatly so just throw your clothes across the room into a pile, you then proceed to lay on your stomach with your head being cradled by your arms. Your body exposed to the elements, there's a slight chill in the air giving you small goosebumps. It's a great feeling after being in the sweltering heat all day. You hear Harvey's footsteps coming up the stairs and smile to yourself. He enters the room and you turn around and sit up grabbing your glass of wine from him and taking a nice long sip as he lights a couple of candles.
"Lucky for you, that new massage oil that I ordered arrived today. It's lavender scented." He smiles placing the small bottle on the bed next to you. He plants a kiss on your lips and takes your wineglass, placing it on one of the coasters on your bedside table. You take this as your queue to lay back down. You roll over onto your front and Harvey starts straddling you, you feel the cool oil drip onto your skin and flinch slightly. Harvey chuckles and begin to rub slow, heavy circles on your back making you immediately relax and begin to loosen up.
"Oh wow, god I love it when you give me massages, you have such incredible hands." You moan out feeling all your shoulder muscles contracting and relaxing.
Harvey chuckles and you can practically see that wide smile without even looking behind you. “Well I am a doctor, I should hope I’m good with my hands.” You chuckle to yourself and start to relax even more under the man’s god like hands. “Okay, you want to sit up darling? I can give you a nice shoulder massage them.” He stops what he’s doing and climbs off of you allowing you to sit up. You once again feel that nice, cold oil drip onto your shoulders and Harvey’s firm hands begin to rub. Harvey starts to get closer to you, so close you start to feel his warm breath against the back of your neck. You could feel the goosebumps popping up one by one on your skin and heat begin to pool in your panties. “Mm you have such smooth skin honey, you know that?”
“I do now.” You moan out, chuckling slightly. Harvey keeps getting closer and you can feel his brown curly hair tickling the side of your head. His head turns and you can feel his teeth graze your ear, he slowly moves down and leaves light pecks on your neck. “I love you Harvey.” You whisper to him, placing your hand on top of his on your shoulder. You turn around to face him and he leaves a soft kiss on your lips.
He stays nose to nose with you, “I love you too darling.” He kisses you again with those soft lips. You put your arms around his neck deepening the kiss, every now and then feeling his teeth graze lightly against your lips, slowly without breaking the kiss you both fall backwards onto the bed, Harvey caging your head between his arms. You slip your hands under his shirt, moving them up and down his back slowly, not wanting to miss one bit of his soft skin. You both pull away and take a deep breath, both of you panting slightly. Harvey moves to your neck while he waits for you to catch your breath, licking, sucking and kissing lightly up and down. One of your hands leaves from under his shirt moving upwards to start playing with his soft curls. He leans up and kisses you on the nose making you giggle and him smile before diving back into a deep kiss.
You begin to unbutton his shirt and rub your hands up and down his chest and stomach before wrapping your arms back around his neck. He pulls away quickly to discard of his shirt before giving you a peck on the lips, then your jaw, then neck, collarbone, both your breasts, and starts to leave multiple kisses on your stomach, all while massaging your thighs with his big hands. The deep massage makes you begin to moan again quietly making Harvey smile against your abdomen,. He continues to leave kisses on your soft stomach and nipping at the sensitive parts, while his hand moves up from your thigh to your little bundle of nerves, he starts rubbing slow circles through the fabric of your panties making you mewl and move your hand back to his head tangling in his curls.
Harvey stops kissing your stomach and is smiling against your skin, his eyes looking up focused completely on you. “Do you want me to keep moving down darling?” He says in a low slightly gruffer voice than usual which makes your legs begin to tingle. You can only nod in agreement, his hand already making quick work on you. His finger starts to slowly trace circles around your entrance making you clench, begging for some friction down there. He plants a light kiss on your vagina over your panties and hooks his fingers round them slipping down your legs; slowly he slips his middle finger in and starts to curl it upwards in slow gentle motions, making you whine out. And then his tongue begins to work, lapping up your juices making slow circles on your clit, he sometimes stops and moves in closer to suck on it and lets out moans to add vibrations sending you crazy under his touch.
“Oh fuck Harvey, feels so good-“ you moan out, your legs wrapping around his head and your hand making a tighter grip in his hair. The doctor slowly inserts a second finger, quickening the pace of the curling motion while adding thrusting to the mix, you close your eyes in absolute bliss feeling your heart pounding out of your chest. Harvey pulls away for a second causing you to tangle your hand more in his hair and try and push him back, he chuckles.
“Fucking insatiable-“ he mutters through a smile. “Be patient darling.” He pulled his fingers out and made his way over to your bedside drawer pulling out a dildo and some lube. He makes his way back over to you and dribbles some cold lube onto your already dripping cunt. He slowly begins inserting the toy into your entrance and starts to thrust it in and out in slow, agonising motions. Harvey dips his head back down and continues to use his god like tongue on your bundle of nerves while continuing to thrust the dildo in and out stretching you out, ready for him.
“Oh fuck, oh shit.” You moan out feeling that hot knot building in your stomach. You didn’t even have to wait for it to explode, you felt your legs start shaking, Harvey wrapping his arm around one of them in attempt to calm the shaking. The orgasm felt like it lasted forever before he pulled the dildo out and started pulling down his own trousers, letting his erection spring free from his boxers. You watch him with half lidded walk over to the draw slowly pumping his dick in his hand, he grabs a condom from the drawer that he got the dildo from, rips it open and slides it onto his length. He climbed back on top, you wrap your legs around his torso and tangle your fingers in his brown curly locks to pull him in for deep kiss.
Harvey buries his head in the crook of your neck, kissing your shoulder, you feel his teeth grazing your skin as he begins to insert himself into you. You both let out a mix of a sighs and moans and he stays there for a moment to give you time to adjust. Once you’ve adjusted you start to shift your hips trying to thrust him in and out yourself, the doctor lets out a quiet chuckle against your shoulder and begins to slide himself in and out and a slow comfortable pace letting out soft moans while doing so. “Oh fuck.” Harvey whispers against your skin. You both let out quiet moans and Harvey starts to bite down lightly on yours shoulder as he makes his thrusts harder but not changing the pace. You gasp and start to run your fingernails down his back, stopping eventually to grab onto his shoulders, still digging your nails in slightly.
“Shit-” Harvey moans out, keeping his head buried deep in the crook of your neck, leaving light kisses and sucks in his wake. You both moan, whine and mewl in unison. Harvey balances himself on one arm and snakes one hand back down to your clit and starts slowly toying with the tiny sweet spot. The doctor moves his head from the crook of your neck to kiss you, a long steamy kiss with you biting down on his lip every now and again making him moan out. The way he fucks you, it’s like he’s worshiping every part of your body like you’re his own personal god. You start to feel a knot tightening in your stomach and you can tell Harvey’s close too when his circles around your clit begin to speed up, trying desperately to get you to cum before he does. And fuck does it work. You feel your entire body start to shake, especially your legs; it’s so intense you’re seeing stars.
“Fuck! Harvey, oh shit!” You close your eyes tight and ride out the high, as Harvey does the same. His head is again buried into your shoulder and he bites down hard onto it moaning out loud, the action only brings more pleasure to your already incredible orgasm.
Once the high dies down you just stay there for a minute, Harvey rises from your shoulder again and leaves a light peck on your lip before pulling out. Nothing is said yet, nothing needs to be said yet. He gets up and disposes of the condom before lying next to you on your bed, you both turn to look at each other and for a moment just stare into each others eyes, smiling. “Are you okay? Aching at all?” He asks moving his hand to lightly caress your cheek. You shake your head. “Good, why don’t we go and get a nice bath to get cleaned up?” He asks and knows the answer as soon as he sees the look on your face.
“Do you want me to run it?” You ask.
“No honey, I’ve got it, you keep relaxing.” He sits up. “I love you.” He leaves another soft kiss on your lips and gets up to go into the bathroom.
“I love you too.”
Harvey’s head pokes back round the door frame. “Oh darling, don’t forget your wine.” He smiles making you giggle.
“I won’t!”
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I’m taking requests for fics!
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eat-limes-bitches · 9 months
Text
Hell Hath No Fury Like A Farmer Socrned
PAIRING: Female Rancher! Reader x Mafia Boss!Bucky Barnes
SUMMARY: When his lover is snatched from her ranch, everyone better watch out, and not for the reason they all thought.
WARNINGS: Cannon-level violence, mentions of blood, fighting etc.
Word Count: 1284
A/N: Wow here we are! My first AU! I had this idea while I was a work the other day and thought it was funny. Sorry if it is not that coherent but I tried. If you guys want to see more of this pairing send me some ideas! I'd love to try some more of these two!
Enjoy! <3
Divider by Rookthorne
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James Bucky Barnes was known for many things, brilliant, cold, ruthless, fierce ruler of the Brooklyn mafia, amongst many other things. One thing he was not known for was his cool temperament when someone he cared for was in danger which is why his two most trusted men, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson hesitated outside of their boss's office door, not sure how they would break the news. After sucking a deep breath, the pair walked into the room. Bucky sat at his sturdy redwood desk, feet propped up as he leaned back in his lavish office chair. His gaze snapped from the contract to his men standing in the doorway before returning to the papers in his hand as he spoke.
“How may I help you, gentleman?” His deep voice reverberated across the room.
“They’ve got her, boss,” Sam stated evenly, ice dancing across each word. Bucky was on his feet in an instant, staring down the mean in front of him.
“What?” He hissed, any other person in his company would have shivered at the venom lashing out of his words, but it just caused Steve to sigh looking his boss, his dear friend in the eyes.
“They got Y/n at the farm this morning. They just sent in a live video feed that Stark has pulled up in the conference room no-”
Before the words could finish leaving Steve’s mouth, Bucky was shoving past them and all but running down the hall to the conference room. He burst into the room to see Tony messing with the camera feed while the rest of his most trusted men sat around the table, staring at Bucky waiting for his reaction. Bucky walked over to his chair placing his hands on the back of it as he stared at the screen playing the live video feed of Y/n sitting there, tied to a chair with some plastic-coated twine, no doubt from the truck she was in earlier that morning.
Bucky’s eyes traced over her frame, looking for any injuries. If there was so much a hair out of place he thought as his ringed fingers gripped the plush material even harder, causing his knuckles to turn white. As he continued his assessment he landed on her face and it was then that he sucked in a breath, taking notice of how her once soft lips were now busted up and the small gash across the bridge of her nose. What caused him to let out a breath was the overall look on her face. She was livid. Her jaw clenched tightly, her once sparkling eyes dark with fury, he could practically see the rage pouring off of her. Evidently, the guards standing on either side of her took notice as they began to shift uncomfortably.
She's going to be fine. Bucky thinks to himself as he lets out a small sigh of relief.
Bucky pulled out his chair and sat down calmly, catching everyone in the room, including Steve and Sam who had joined the room just a few moments ago, off guard. He cocked his head sideways,
“Will you let them know that we are all present Stark? That seems to be what they are waiting on.” He spoke, his tone even and calm causing everyone to share looks as Tony patched in the audio.
“Afternoon Barnes.” A voice called out as a figure walked around from behind the camera revealing Brock Rumalow, the leader of the rival mob who had been fighting with the Barnes Corp. For many years.
“Looks like you are starting to slack, she was an easy grab.” Rumalow sneered as he approached Y/n, walking around her chair as he ran his hand up her arm and wrapping a hand around the back of her neck causing an even more crossed look to appear on her face.
“Such a shame, I don’t understand why you would let such a pretty little thing out of your sight.”
The atmosphere in the conference room was tense. Everyone knew about the sweet little cattle rancher Bucky fell in love with many months ago. He had finally brought her around during the Christmas party last month where she was loved by everyone who was able to talk with her. However, she was new to this world, his world and so everyone was worried about her the moment they heard she was taken, but watching her now, she didn’t seem the least bit scared, more annoyed than anything, causing confusion to ripple through the air, but no questions were asked as Rumalow continued speaking,
“I believe she has a few things to say to you, James.” He crowed walking away from Y/n with a pat on her cheek, returning to his position behind the camera while she let out a loud huff.
“Yeah, I got some things to say alright. If you aint here in the next hour, I’m gonna be walking home myself. I got a mare due any day now and these asswipes didn’t bother to close the cattle gate after they got me so now all the cattle are probably running amuck stressing out poor Parker.”
Bucky let out a soft chuckle, only Y/n would be worried about her poor farm hand while she sat tied down to a chair by her boyfriend's rival gang.
“I got the location of the camera Buck,” Tony calls out from behind the computer, “It’s only a few blocks away, in that old warehouse on the junction of 5th Avenue and Bakers Street.”
Bucky brushed invisible dust off his pants and started to speak when there was a large commotion coming from the video feed.
Everyone watched in pure shock as Y/n snapped the twine holding her in place, jumping up and kicking a chair at one guard and wrapping the now wrecked twine around the other's neck yanking him down to the ground, his skull hitting the floor with a sickening crack.
Once the guards were dispatched, Y/n glanced to her left before darting off in that direction, the shock of her escape must have finally worn off of Rumalow because everyone, except for Bucky, jumped to their feet as gunshots began ringing out behind the field of view of the camera. There is a loud metallic “thwang!” before Y/n returned to view, holding an old shovel with a small smattering of blood on it and an even more disgruntled look on her face as she examines her once clean cream and blue plaid shirt that was now ruined by a few small patches of blood.
Bucky smiles as he hears a few curses leave her mouth along with a “I just got the blood out of this shirt”.
Y/n then walks up to the camera, letting out a huff as she picks it up and starts making her way towards the side exit. She glances down at the camera before she starts speaking,
“By the looks of it, you have 45 minutes to get here before I start walking, which believe me you do not want me doing that. ‘Cause I swear to God and all that is holy James Buchannan Barnes if that foal is on the ground by the time I get back I’m whooping your and everyone else in that room's asses.”
Bucky chuckles and stands up looking at Sam and Steve as he motions for them to come with him to the garage to pick up Y/n.
“It looks like she had them after all.” Bucky muses as they enter the elevator. The other men nod in agreement as Sam then says, “Remind me to never piss her off.”
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astrology-by-sita · 1 month
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THE STORY OF THE SIGNS AND THE STORY OF HUMANITY
In aries ♈️ humans are hunters-gatherers. Each one lives independently and fend for themselves alone in the wild.
In taurus ♉️ humans start to settle and have families. Families have to be provided for so they have farms. Bulls (taurus) plough the land.
In gemini ♊️ the children of those families go to that corner in the neighborhood where they hang out and have fun. They go to school to learn as well.
In cancer ♋️ the children are taught that they belong to a certain family, lineage, tribe, country..."respect the flag and the national anthem" etc etc
In leo ♌️ they decide instead to build their own personalities instead of identifying themselves with family/country/nationality etc. They want their identity to be based on what they create.
In virgo ♍️ they realize that if they want to build their personality they have to be responsible and establish a structured routine, take care of their health, be useful in society etc.
In libra ♎️ after they've learned to be practical/useful in society, they are then ready to establish relationships. It's the change from virgin (virgo) to bride (libra). Virgin here is metaphorical not literal nor about s3xual purity. It's about maturity cause saturn exalts in libra.
In scorpio ♏️ after they've signed the formal contracts in libra, they go deep, beyond the formal. They share intimacy and financial resources. They go through sudden changes. Merging with the other intimately transforms them.
In sagittarius ♐️ after the sudden changes they went through in scorpio, they gain wisdom. They become teachers, mentors, gurus, here to share their experience in the journey of life.
In capricorn ♑️ they use this wisdom to build a legacy. The wisdom gained in sagittarius equips them with patience. How can you be patient if you didn't learn to enjoy the ride? So life goals might take time but the reward is worth it in the end.
In aquarius ♒️ it's no longer about their life goal as individuals, it's about the collective goals of society. They start to care about building a better society with a better, more beneficial structure so that no one is marginalized.
In Pisces ♓️ they learn that all these structures are material. They learn to transcend the body and its needs, and find the soul. The soul has no structure or boundaries or ego.
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padawansuggest · 10 months
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Okay so I want to make an arranged marriage AU for Obi-Wan/Jango. But like. Instead of it being all ‘neither of us want this’ it’s a contract that they both willingly signed and honestly it was obsession at first sight.
Lemme explain.
See, Stewjon (ruled by King Yoda and his mess of adopted kids, so adoption is very common on the planet and they don’t even mind that Prince Jango already has kids) is a peaceful little world that cares about arts, parties, and farming. It’s a mixture of fun and practical. Most Mandalorians think it’s kinda shallow, but fun for party weekends to run off to. A lot of New Mandalorians that still hate the republic send their kids off to school there.
Obi-Wan is 25 minutes late to the meeting and Jango is all ‘you know what, I can handle not having to entertain him, clearly he’s got better things to do Lmao, this marriage will be easy’ and then the next minute someone flings open the meeting room doors, and you can just SEE Prince Qui-Gon’s face fall. He’s been toting the qualities of his baby son for the whole time they’ve been there, talking about the art degrees the kid has (Obi likes painting and sculpting in canon okay) and Jango is all ‘that’s great, he can paint his own wedding armor I’m sure it’ll be lovely’ and about how Obi-Wan is great with kids and loves to read ‘that’s great, he can entertain my father AND son at the same time’
And then the door slams open, and in comes a wild looking Xanatos, physically dragging a snarling young man who’s trying to bite through Xanatos’s wrist.
‘DAD HES TRYING TO REMOVE MY HAND’
‘Oh my. He’s not normally so… violent.’
‘THATS A FUCKING LIE AND YOU KNOW IT’
Anyways, Obi-Wan is eventually soothed into submission when Jango, who can’t stop laughing, asks if Obi-Wan really finds him so distasteful, cause he can just leave if so. Obi-Wan, after pulling his slightly bloody mouth off his brother’s arm with an air of dainty sweetness, just licks his chops and mentions Xanatos told him the Mandalorians would take away his pet Varactyl because they wouldn’t want Boga running around the city.
Jango just laughs even harder and tells him he can have whatever big dangerous pets he wants to. Obi-Wan gets up to go meet his new future husband and inform him that he would like a nexu. Jango says yes but also gifts him a new virodagger that makes Obi-Wan squeal about how pretty it is.
Jaster expected them to leave the planet with a very tenacious plan for breaking off the marriage but instead Jango is sighing lovingly and telling his new beloved that they shan’t be parted for much longer. Lovesick strill pups at first sight.
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sexymemecoin · 3 months
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The Rise of DeFi: Revolutionizing the Financial Landscape
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Decentralized Finance (DeFi) has emerged as one of the most transformative sectors within the cryptocurrency industry. By leveraging blockchain technology, DeFi aims to recreate and improve upon traditional financial systems, offering a more inclusive, transparent, and efficient financial ecosystem. This article explores the fundamental aspects of DeFi, its key components, benefits, challenges, and notable projects, including a brief mention of Sexy Meme Coin.
What is DeFi?
DeFi stands for Decentralized Finance, a movement that utilizes blockchain technology to build an open and permissionless financial system. Unlike traditional financial systems that rely on centralized intermediaries like banks and brokerages, DeFi operates on decentralized networks, allowing users to interact directly with financial services. This decentralization is achieved through smart contracts, which are self-executing contracts with the terms of the agreement directly written into code.
Key Components of DeFi
Decentralized Exchanges (DEXs): DEXs allow users to trade cryptocurrencies directly with one another without the need for a central authority. Platforms like Uniswap, SushiSwap, and PancakeSwap have gained popularity for their ability to provide liquidity and facilitate peer-to-peer trading.
Lending and Borrowing Platforms: DeFi lending platforms like Aave, Compound, and MakerDAO enable users to lend their assets to earn interest or borrow assets by providing collateral. These platforms use smart contracts to automate the lending process, ensuring transparency and efficiency.
Stablecoins: Stablecoins are cryptocurrencies pegged to stable assets like fiat currencies to reduce volatility. They are crucial for DeFi as they provide a stable medium of exchange and store of value. Popular stablecoins include Tether (USDT), USD Coin (USDC), and Dai (DAI).
Yield Farming and Liquidity Mining: Yield farming involves providing liquidity to DeFi protocols in exchange for rewards, often in the form of additional tokens. Liquidity mining is a similar concept where users earn rewards for providing liquidity to specific pools. These practices incentivize participation and enhance liquidity within the DeFi ecosystem.
Insurance Protocols: DeFi insurance protocols like Nexus Mutual and Cover Protocol offer coverage against risks such as smart contract failures and hacks. These platforms aim to provide users with security and peace of mind when engaging with DeFi services.
Benefits of DeFi
Financial Inclusion: DeFi opens up access to financial services for individuals who are unbanked or underbanked, particularly in regions with limited access to traditional banking infrastructure. Anyone with an internet connection can participate in DeFi, democratizing access to financial services.
Transparency and Trust: DeFi operates on public blockchains, providing transparency for all transactions. This transparency reduces the need for trust in intermediaries and allows users to verify and audit transactions independently.
Efficiency and Speed: DeFi eliminates the need for intermediaries, reducing costs and increasing the speed of transactions. Smart contracts automate processes that would typically require manual intervention, enhancing efficiency.
Innovation and Flexibility: The open-source nature of DeFi allows developers to innovate and build new financial products and services. This continuous innovation leads to the creation of diverse and flexible financial instruments.
Challenges Facing DeFi
Security Risks: DeFi platforms are susceptible to hacks, bugs, and vulnerabilities in smart contracts. High-profile incidents, such as the DAO hack and the recent exploits on various DeFi platforms, highlight the need for robust security measures.
Regulatory Uncertainty: The regulatory environment for DeFi is still evolving, with governments and regulators grappling with how to address the unique challenges posed by decentralized financial systems. This uncertainty can impact the growth and adoption of DeFi.
Scalability: DeFi platforms often face scalability issues, particularly on congested blockchain networks like Ethereum. High gas fees and slow transaction times can hinder the user experience and limit the scalability of DeFi applications.
Complexity and Usability: DeFi platforms can be complex and challenging for newcomers to navigate. Improving user interfaces and providing educational resources are crucial for broader adoption.
Notable DeFi Projects
Uniswap (UNI): Uniswap is a leading decentralized exchange that allows users to trade ERC-20 tokens directly from their wallets. Its automated market maker (AMM) model has revolutionized the way liquidity is provided and traded in the DeFi space.
Aave (AAVE): Aave is a decentralized lending and borrowing platform that offers unique features such as flash loans and rate switching. It has become one of the largest and most innovative DeFi protocols.
MakerDAO (MKR): MakerDAO is the protocol behind the Dai stablecoin, a decentralized stablecoin pegged to the US dollar. MakerDAO allows users to create Dai by collateralizing their assets, providing stability and liquidity to the DeFi ecosystem.
Compound (COMP): Compound is another leading DeFi lending platform that enables users to earn interest on their cryptocurrencies or borrow assets against collateral. Its governance token, COMP, allows users to participate in protocol governance.
Sexy Meme Coin (SXYM): While primarily known as a meme coin, Sexy Meme Coin has integrated DeFi features, including a decentralized marketplace for buying, selling, and trading memes as NFTs. This unique blend of humor and finance adds a distinct flavor to the DeFi landscape. Learn more about Sexy Meme Coin at Sexy Meme Coin.
The Future of DeFi
The future of DeFi looks promising, with continuous innovation and growing adoption. As blockchain technology advances and scalability solutions are implemented, DeFi has the potential to disrupt traditional financial systems further. Regulatory clarity and improved security measures will be crucial for the sustainable growth of the DeFi ecosystem.
DeFi is likely to continue attracting attention from both retail and institutional investors, driving further development and integration of decentralized financial services. The flexibility and inclusivity offered by DeFi make it a compelling alternative to traditional finance, paving the way for a more open and accessible financial future.
Conclusion
Decentralized Finance (DeFi) represents a significant shift in the financial landscape, leveraging blockchain technology to create a more inclusive, transparent, and efficient financial system. Despite the challenges, the benefits of DeFi and its continuous innovation make it a transformative force in the world of finance. Notable projects like Uniswap, Aave, and MakerDAO, along with unique contributions from meme coins like Sexy Meme Coin, demonstrate the diverse and dynamic nature of the DeFi ecosystem.
For those interested in exploring the playful and innovative side of DeFi, Sexy Meme Coin offers a unique and entertaining platform. Visit Sexy Meme Coin to learn more and join the community.
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I’d Break the Back of Love for You
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Setting: Commonwealth (No France)
Warnings: Oral (f receiving), sexual situations
Summary: You have some serious appreciation for Daryl’s shoulders.
A/N: As you should, reader. As you should.
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gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams
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“How long will you be gone?” You asked before popping a strawberry into your mouth. Daryl had brought them home upon his return only two days prior. You didn’t ask where he found them and he didn’t offer, but he wasn't banged up so he likely didn’t risk life and limb for them. Well, anymore than he always did by going outside the safety of the Commonwealth. 
He was already gathering supplies to head out again after a broadcast that Eugene had picked up on the radio. There wasn’t much to it. Just a couple of scrambled words and a lot of static. Not enough, in your opinion, for Daryl to run out and risk himself. 
The archer gave you a quick look, a corner of his mouth tugging upward when he noticed the plate of strawberries by your hip. “Few days maybe.” He answered, wrapping some bread and grabbing a couple of refilled bottles of water. He placed the items next to his shirt, on the counter you were currently calling a seat. 
When he scratched at his chin, your eyes followed his movements but lingered once he had dropped his hand and moved on with packing. His goatee was more of a starter beard these days, no time for trimming. It didn’t bother you. The salt-n-pepper hair felt good when scratching against the right patches of skin. 
There were so many things about your archer that you could admire in that regard all day if you ever had the chance. 
The obvious one being his cock. You couldn’t say it was the biggest you’d ever seen but it was definitely to be admired. The first time, back on the Greene farm, he’d pushed into you and you’d nearly came from the stretch alone. It wasn’t just about size though. The man knew how to use it to make you come apart over and over. It always made you want to giggle when you would think back to how socially stunted he had been one day and then the next, he was fucking you stupid over Hershel’s porch railing. 
His hair was so long now, the waves taking off a few inches. It was well onto his back when wet. You could still remember when it was barely over his eyes. You had loved it then too. But now, when you would bathe together, you’d have him sit in front of you so you could wash it for him. You’d always end up playing with it; braiding it or carding your fingers through it. However, the best thing was how it clung to his face and neck when he was sweaty after a thorough fucking. You’d push it off of his face, letting your fingers catch on the tangles as you kissed him. 
His hands were so much bigger than yours. On the few lazy mornings you were granted, when Carol would get the kids to school for you, you’d just lie there and hold your hands together. With your palm flat against his, he could bend his fingers over the tops of your own. It was easy to imagine his thick fingers inside of you. He had sent you tumbling into oblivion plenty of times with only one curling within your walls. Those hands didn’t just hold weapons; they worked magic, too. 
But it was the man’s shoulders that did you in. All that lean muscle that contracted and moved as he lifted and tugged at things to pack. You’d never admit it, but the nights alone in his absence, it was the thought of your legs over those broad shoulders and his face buried in your cunt that brought you to completion over and over. 
You really needed to hide any of his shirts that weren’t tank tops. 
Who would’ve thought that out of any part of that man, the one that would make you almost instantly wet was his “shoulders—”
“What?” 
You shook your head and looked around a bit wildly until you found his gaze and locked on. “Hmm?” 
“What ‘bout my shoulders?” He asked as you lifted another strawberry toward your lips. His question had you fumbling the fruit, catching it at the last second before it could fall to the floor. 
You laughed nervously. “Shoulders? What? I didn’t say—” you stuffed the entire berry into your mouth to stop your embarrassing rambling. Hopefully, he’d just let it go and keep packing. 
That hope went careening out the window when he looked down at his right shoulder and then back at you, a smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eye. 
“Nah, ya definitely said somethin’ ‘bout shoulders.” He sat the canteen he had been about to fill next to the sink and started walking toward you. “Still got my hearin’, Sunshine.”
You felt heat pooling in your cheeks and…other places when he leaned into your space, a hand braced on either side of your hips. The strawberry was swallowed down with an audible gulp. 
“I, uh, like your shoulders.” You whispered. Daryl laughed in the form of an exhale and leaned in closer, his lips coming to press against the side of your neck. Maintaining any sort of control was almost futile. “Daryl, you need to get packed.” You attempted to sway him but he simply hummed against your flesh. 
“Whatcha thinkin’, pretty girl?”
You groaned but leaned back your head to grant him more access. “A lot of things that are gonna make you late.” He didn’t respond to that. Not verbally. He grabbed your hips and pulled your body to the edge of the countertop, your groin coming into contact with the evidence of his own arousal. 
“You’re right.” He rasped against your collarbone. With one roll of his hips, you both gasped from the friction. “I guess I should be gettin’ on with packin’.” He rolled his hips again, growling against your jaw. “D’rather have those legs’a yours over these shoulders.”
You whimpered and squirmed against him, mewling when the rough fabric of his jeans grazed against your sensitive core through your thin sleep shorts and panties. That voice of his always made you putty in his hands. “I—please, Daryl.” 
“M’gonna give ya whatcha need, Sunshine.” He leaned back and tapped both of your biceps. “Up.” Your arms were immediately raised and your shirt pulled over and off. The cold air against your nipples had them hardening before Daryl could even touch you. 
Your small hands found his shoulders, gripping tight while he worshiped your breasts with mouth and hands. The skin of his palms was rough and calloused but that alone brought you so much pleasure. He cupped your left breast, kneading the soft mound and pinching your nipple while circling his tongue over its twin. You had never been so sensitive to a man’s touch in your life, but Daryl could play your body like an instrument. 
He pulled off of your breast with a wet pop and searched out your lips, his tongue pressing through to tangle with your own. 
“Lay back.” He ordered against your mouth. You did as you were told, only slightly embarrassed by how you knew your wetness was showing through your shorts. Of course, that was the first thing he noticed when he took a step back. “So wet for me an’ I’ve barely touched ya.” His thumb pressed into your clothed opening and trekked upward, earning a few panted moans and a raise of your hips. 
He continued past your pussy until he reached the waistband and turned his hand to dip his fingers underneath it. Joined by his other, he pulled your shorts and panties off in slow movements, letting them fall onto the floor. 
His large hands pressed into your inner thighs to open you up so wide that it bordered painful. All you could do was bite your lip and watch him. His tongue creeped across his bottom lip, and you shivered. 
“Prettiest pussy there ever was.” He commented absently, releasing one of your legs so he could slide his index finger up and down your slick lips. He was rewarded with a needy whine and the sight of you clenching around nothing. With a smirk, he moved his finger straight to his mouth, not pushing it past his lips until you opened your eyes. “Sweet lil’ thing too.”
“Daryl.” You whined. You both knew you weren’t above begging. It was only a matter of whether or not he wanted to hear it this time. 
“I gotcha, Sunshine. Gonna make ya feel real good, okay?”
You had zero doubt about that. 
“Sit up for me.” 
You planted your palms on the counter and came up to meet him, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck to drag him in for a kiss. He chuckled, a sound you adored, and pulled away from you to sink to one knee. A sweet kiss was pressed into your left thigh and then he was looking up at you. Oh, you were burning that sight into your memory for later. He placed his hands beneath your knees and stilled, smirking. 
“You’re gonna need to hold on, pretty thing.”
You gave him a quizzical look but then he pulled you forward, his face diving into your waiting cunt as his hands quickly moved to your ass. You had just enough time to twist your fingers in his hair before he was rising from the floor. 
“Oh, fuck.” You yelped, not just at the sensation of his tongue breaching your opening, but also at being six feet off the ground. How the man knew where to walk was anyone’s guess but his steps were sure. Your back pressed against the wall beside the refrigerator, giving him a little leverage to really work at your pussy in earnest. 
The initial shock had worn off, now replaced by the sensations his mouth was causing and the absolute thrill of legitimately being perched on those fucking shoulders while he devoured you like a man starved. 
“Fuck, that feels good.” You praised, fisting one hand in his hair while the other came up to palm the wall beside your head. He knew exactly what he was doing in every sense at that moment. You could feel the tense muscle below your thighs. His tongue delving deep inside your fluttering walls. His nose rubbing against your rapidly swelling clit. His beard scraping your overheated flesh. 
A new wave of arousal seeped out of you and he groaned, happily lapping it up with sounds that definitely did not belong in a kitchen. The cord inside you was heating up, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, an absolutely delicious feeling of both tension and ecstasy building and yearning just below the skin. 
When he slid his tongue up through your wetness to flick at your clit, you almost couldn’t stand it; desperate to cum and hear him cooing praises after he drank every drop, but also wanting to savor the delectable journey toward an inevitable mind blowing orgasm that would likely leave you unable to speak anything but his name. 
“Fuck, oh, right there!” You slapped your palm once against the wall with a long, wanton moan. You wanted to grind against his face, aid in coaxing your high out of you, but he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. His grip on your ass tightened and he pressed face even closer to you, lips encircling your bundle of nerves to suck at it while his tongue worked it from inside his mouth. “Goddamn, Daryl! Fuck!”
He went back to kitten licks, tilting his head down so his nose continued to press at your pulsing nub while he slurped up any new arousal that had dripped out of your entrance.
He was killing you. And you loved it. 
Daryl Dixon may have been called many things in his life, but absolute destroyer of pussy needed to be added to that list. When he wasn’t sucking your ability to think right out of your clit, maybe you could remember to call him that in front of one of your friends. 
“Fuck.” You felt like you could almost cry, your orgasm not just creeping closer but sprinting. “Daryl, I’m—I’m gonna cum.” He gave your ass a hard squeeze, his way of demanding you let go. 
It was gradual, a pins and needles sensation that started from where his lips pulled tightly on your clit and spread out through your limbs, causing them to begin trembling. Then it was all at once, a wave of pleasure hit you so hard that you jerked and the back of your head hit the wall while your hands pulled roughly on his hair. There were a few moments unaccounted for, your vision overtaken by darkness and stars and the distant sounds of your own screams of his name. 
When you came back to yourself, your arms were dangling uselessly. You were panting while your body spasmed through the last pulses of your high. And Daryl was eagerly lapping up every drop. 
Once you were completely spent, you felt one of his large hands slid up to brace the small of your back while the other lifted one of your legs from his shoulder. He switched, gripping just above your hip on that side to keep you from falling while he moved your other leg. Then you were sliding down until he stopped you just in front of his face, his lips readily pressing against yours. 
You could taste yourself on his tongue, feel your own wetness smearing across your face from where it had gathered on his beard. The kiss itself was sweet and lazy and loving, whispered praises between each press of his lips. Your feet slowly touched the floor and his hands came up to cradle your face. 
You wanted to melt against him and beg him not to leave you. To clean you up and take you to bed so you could surprise you both by climbing above him and riding him until he filled you over and over. That fantasy had you reaching to cup him through his pants, feeling the straining hardness for only a moment before he gently grabbed your wrist. 
“Let’s take a bath an’ getcha cleaned up an’ ready for bed.”
You pulled back, frowning in confusion. “Don’t you have to leave?” You felt your heart spin when he gave you the sweetest smile; the one he gave to only you. 
“Nah, need to be here.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, one side and then the other, before gently cupping your chin and kissing you. “They can send someone else.”
“You mean it?” You asked, eyes sparkling with more hope than you meant to reveal. 
“Nah, lemme go an’ finish packin’.” He started to turn away but you caught one of those beautiful shoulders to easily spin him back to you. He deflected your attempt to smack him by ducking and hoisting you up over the very same shoulder you had grabbed. “You’re stuck with me.” 
“Oh, woe is me!” You laughed, kicking your legs to get out of his hold. You didn’t even remember you were still naked until he gave your ass a gentle smack as he walked up the stairs. Once at the top, you wiggled forward so you could reach and slap his ass one good time. “Hey, if that’s what happens when I say your shoulders are sexy, what would you do if I said you have a nice ass?” 
He barked out a laugh that you didn’t hear often enough and used the heel of his boot to kick the door closed. 
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bumpolantern · 4 months
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Stable Birth (Co-written with @cassieoz)
One of my favorite birth fic writers around is @cassieoz and she had this delicious Stable Birth idea after reading my story, Farm Life. Here is what her brilliant mind came up with. Hope you guys enjoy this one! cassieoz is such an amazing writer who crafts empowering birth fics and always have incredible fresh new ideas.
Pairings: Original Male Character x Original Female Character
Summary: You've given birth many times before that by your last pregnancy, the baby just slipped out. But sometimes. no matter how many times you've done something in the past, exceptions are bound to happen.
Warnings: MDNI. 18+. Very graphic and sexual birth.
Divider credit @saradika-graphics ❤🙏🏻
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I have been working all day avoiding the constant discomfort in my lower back. 
“Hooo…” I let out a breath after a contraction. It’s not gonna take too long now, but I moved on with my tasks anyway, albeit slower than I usually did. I went on to do my chores in the house and take care of my really young children. 
Once I’ve fed and bathed all the kids, I strapped on the youngest one on my back and stepped outside to tend to the animals before I went over to the stables. But as I bent down to scoop up the feeds, I was wracked with a contraction. It was harder and longer than the one before. When it passed, I slowly stood back up and felt another milder contraction creep up. 
I breathed through it. Having done this so many times before, this should be easy, I thought to myself. 
So I went into the stables to clean and feed the horses and that’s when I felt the head slowly descending into my birth canal. The pressure between my legs became almost too much, but I soldiered through and went on feeding the horses while fighting the urge to push, holding off on giving birth until my husband gets home. 
I have been in the stables in the past hour, just finishing up when I suddenly felt the most intense contraction and collapsed among the hay bales. I fought the urge to push, but my body is doing it for me.
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I find you in the stall struggling to breathe, panting frantically and fighting the strong urge to push. You looked up at me and immediately you reached and clutched my hand tightly, "I think it's time!"
I took the kid off your back and I helped lay you down on the hay. You hiked your skirts up and started pushing until the top of the head peaked through your dripping and puffy folds.
Another contraction hit you and you pushed hard, but the head did not move. You cried out in pain and frustration.
“Why is it not budging?” You cried and the toddler in my arms began to squall so I called out for one of our older children to take the toddler inside.
"Hold my hand and push with all your might. You know that we always have huge babies!" I managed to joke and you let out a weak chuckle through the pain.
Finally, our eldest came running in the stable with one of the younger ones in tow. Our eldest was unfazed but the younger one was horrified by what’s happening. Seeing you in pain lying on the hay, with your big, overdue belly and wet puffy, leaky and barely crowning pussy on display. 
“This one seems to be the biggest yet!” You managed to whimper as you continued to push through the next contraction. 
"Go! Take your little brothers and call your aunt to help with dinner for the others, sweetie! Go now!" I urged our eldest as she picked up the toddler and ran with her youngest siblings back to the house. 
“You have to do something! Help me out!” You pleaded, as you tried lying on your side and holding up one of your legs to the side to give the head more room.
"Listen to me! Just pant so I can check you!"
“Oooh… hurry, it burns! It wants out! But it’s too big!”
You panted, huffed and puffed, fighting the urge to push so I could check on the baby’s head. I inserted a finger to trace around the head and you screamed in pain. So far, after many consecutive births you have not torn anything, but this might just take the cake. 
“The head is too big.” I laughed.
“Oh Christ!” You exclaimed, feeling the pressure mounting again as a contraction hits you. 
I rock you on your side and start to circle your clit vigorously.
“Oooh!” You squealed in surprise. “Mmmm… yeah, keep going.”
I rub faster and harder over your swelling spot and tell you to breathe with the pressure.
I could tell you’re near. You felt your oncoming orgasm climbing up while you continued to pant the head out. More fluids trickle from your puffy folds, both from arousal and from the amniotic sack.
"Good girl!” I cooed, placing a hand on the crest of your big belly, feeling it harden under my palm. “I think it's almost time to push down with the pressure.” I told you, and you nodded as you took a deep breath, preparing for a long and hard push. “Darling, this is the biggest we have so far, it will hurt A LOT. So, hold my free hand and bear down through the contraction, okay?"
You could only nod, already beginning to bear down, your face scrunching, beads of sweat rolling down your face. 
The head begins to slip out slowly, and you let out a long and loud scream. 
"Good girl! Big, huge push! Let it go! Let the head come out! Be as loud as you can!"
I keep rubbing faster and harder. The head is the biggest ever. I need to help you squeeze it out. It's so painful but you can do it! You have done it so many times before.
You are puffing wildly as the orgasmic pressure mixes with the stretching intensity of crowning. You push with it, howling with the burning and throbbing.
The head is stretching you wider and wider. You are slowly losing all control as your body explodes with your first huge orgasm. The head barrels forward but it's not fully crowning yet.
“I-it’s not working…” You trembled weakly, sounding pained. “I don’t think I could do it, you’d have to cut me.” 
"Listen to me! Just listen to my voice and just push with the pressure. Don't think! You will be alright! Just completely let go!"
I continued to rub and circle your clit and moved a hand to squeeze one of your big heavy tits, and stimulate one of your erect nipples with my free hand. 
“Ooooooooohhhhh…” You moaned and groaned, long and hard at the pressure and pleasure.
"Thats it! Scream as loud as you want! Just let the baby go! It's time to bring our next baby out of you! Big, big push!"
“I’m tearing! I’m tearing!” 
"You are not tearing! You are stretching so well. Come on now!"
You are losing all sense of time and reason. All you can feel is the gigantic shape of the head squeezing painfully forward with each massive effort. You can barely breathe but the urge to push is uncontrollable.
The unstoppable need to expel the baby is all you can focus on now. "Good girl! I love it when you reach this point! Birth it! Make it come!"
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You feel the overwhelming pressure, pain and pleasure mixing into an almost insurmountable amount. You grabbed one of your leaking breasts, squeezing and rolling a hardened leaking nipple as you panted and pushed.
Sweat ran down your face as you squeezed and pushed, and with a loud moan of pleasure and pain the head finally popped out, fluids gushing as it did.
“Ooooh! Shit! That feels so good.” You breathily said with a smile despite the pain.
The contractions haven't stopped but the release of the head and fluids made it significantly less painful. You breathed deeply as the shoulders rotated and more of the huge baby came forward.
You pushed some more, "Hoooo... ooohhh pull it out already!" You gasped, as I chuckled at your mix of emotions and guided the body out.
"Just a little more," I assured you, "Come on, just one more big push."
"Hhhmmmm..." you moaned and started pushing again, feeling the baby’s really wide shoulders against its enormous body sink against your opening, inching forward a little more.
It was hitting a sweet spot inside you that made you start to moan and whimper louder again. Being already overstimulated, it didn't take long before you once again felt surges of pleasure mounting.
You huffed and puffed and gave one last big push and the baby came surging forward with more birth fluids.
Your entire body shook from such intense orgasm and the sheer exhaustion of trying to birth such a humongous baby that you fell back into the hay, trying to catch your breath. You gave a final, big push that finally frees the entire baby as well as the biggest release of your life.
You came every single time you gave birth, but this was different. This was the biggest baby you’ve birthed and the strongest and biggest orgasm you’ve had ever. 
I, for one thing, already love having lots of babies with you. I love seeing you swell all big and round full of my child, and I love it even more when I help you birth each one of them. You love the experience equally if not more, as you mentioned once that it makes you feel strong and empowered.
That's why you love having lots of babies as it is the marital essence of being a woman and the discovery of the ultimate power of being free!
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lisafication · 11 months
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Digging Graves for your Morals; Or, The Ethical Problem of Outlawry
Hello, yes, I am here again. This one is shorter, I swear (it’s under four thousand words, even). If this is the first post from me you’re seeing, this is a follow-up to my prior essay posted here on the game The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, although it should be able to mostly stand alone.
At the end of my last essay, I touched on both the game’s nearly uncompromising moral scepticism and relativity, but I didn’t really dig into it. I outlined that the game only textually frames actions as ‘morally bad’ in the context of a morality set by the society and the world that has treated them as no better than farm animals raised for the slaughter. Well, I have a lot to say on the topic of ethics on the topic of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, so buckle in, this one’s going to talk about the social contract, moral scepticism and everyone’s favourite topic: Mrs. Graves.
As usual, this was originally posted and formatted for on Sufficient Velocity and you can perhaps more easily read it there. Spoilers abound, and my content warning from last time still applies.
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She’s not too hot on either ethics or her mother
The Meat of the Matter
Since a lot of this is optional or otherwise missable information, let’s review the premise the game gives us. If you’re already aware of all of this, I apologise, it won’t take long.
First off the bat, the quarantine at the start of the game was a hoax-driven money-making scheme of which you can pick up more-or-less all the relevant details of. This is entirely missable and by the time it’s possible to discover, our protagonists have better things to dwell on and have dialogue about, so I’ll give you a summary of what you can deduce from reading the notes and thinking about it.
The quarantine is an organ harvesting operation, as per some documents you can discover in the wardens’ office. They entrap the residents, test their blood types and starve to death those they deem surplus to requirements — alternatively the starvation itself could be their method of ‘preparing the harvest’, there’s evidence in both directions and it hardly matters — harvesting the organs of the others for sale. As our protagonists are AB-typed, the ‘universal recipient’ or ‘most selfish blood type’, they’re some of the first on the chopping block.
If you read through the newspapers and the documents in Mr. Washing Machine’s car, you can discover that ultimately ToxiSoda are responsible, and a similar thing is happening in a different city under the guise of a ‘chemical leak’.  Should you further investigate matters, you will find mentions of the ‘man behind it all’, the doctor, or the Surgeon, as the fandom have been referring to him — you may recall Mrs. Graves mentioned someone similar! Yeah, he’s the guy who runs ToxiSoda, who are themselves partners with the water company that faked the parasite outbreak in the first place.
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It’s all a life insurance scam, apparently
How much the details of the operation matter is something open to interpretation — it might just be something for players to figure out and Episode 3 will not cover the Surgeon at all, or he might play a major part; it's not particularly relevant to this essay. What matters is that it happened at all — indeed, it’s fairly easy to justify Ashley and Andrew in everything they did in Episode 1 (flashbacks aside), arguing that if they’d made any other decisions they’d have died — an argument that the victims dug their own graves, even if the Graves siblings put them in them. How correct that is is a matter of debate, but that you can make the argument at all matters, and we’ll be returning to this later. In my last essay (and again in the introduction here), I made an analogy to farm animals, raised without love and for slaughter. Let’s put a pin in the ‘for slaughter’ part for now and take a look at the ‘without love’ part. 
That’s right, it’s time to meet the parents.
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As Andrew notes, there are significantly more compelling reasons for you to say that
They Fuck You Up, Your Mum & Dad
They really do. 
Our charming protagonists are, as with many things depicted in this game, an exaggerated, almost farcical example of this phenomenon — one that’s just grounded enough to still feel very real, just like the siblings themselves. 
The late and lamentable Mrs. Graves is just the same: originally a teen mother, hopelessly out of depth with two difficult children — even if one was good at masking it — and an unreliable, emotionally unavailable (at least to their children) partner who can’t hold down a job, ends up foisting them off on each other and doing a Parental Negligence because she simply Cannot Cope. That’s the real part. The part where she gets paid off by an organ harvesting operation to leave them to die, that’s the borderline-farcical exaggeration that throws all the nooks and crannies of her character into sharp relief.
Mrs. Graves does not have a good relationship with either of her kids. Having self-admittedly fobbed the job of raising Ashley off on her son, to the degree that they did not even celebrate her birthday as kids, both of them hold differing degrees and types of resentment for her.
For Ashley, it’s hate — perhaps not quite so clear cut as that, as it’s her that calls for the eulogy and she shows some potential signs of discomfort while cleaning up her parents’ corpses, but by and large, it’s fairly simple and straightforward, as usual for Ashley. The sentiment is not exactly unreturned, either.
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This brings Ashley’s heart great delight!
The most clear incident raising her from everyday ‘neglectful’ to ‘wow she wanted nothing to do with this kid’ is the optional ‘birthday cake’ scene, obtained by finding the present in Ashley’s first ‘transitory world’ dream, in which we see Ashley’s birthday  and the founding of a lemon cupcake tradition between Leyley and Andy. She has received nothing from her family, notes that her ‘friends’ would say they were busy before she even told them the schedule and Andy takes her out to buy cupcakes with his pocket money.
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This scene gets a callback in Andrew’s dream later. Just remember to Ask Nicely, rather than Kill Her.
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Parents of the year, everyone.
So with Ashley it’s as straightforward and obvious as she herself is — she hates her mother, her mother hates her. With Andrew, as with Andrew himself, it’s a fair bit more complicated. His mother is a much more nuanced figure, who is believable in her role as an unfortunate teen parent who was trying her best. He has a degree of trust in her against, seemingly, his own good judgment In her conversation with Andrew, she acknowledges her fault in raising him and seemingly sincerely tries to offer him a ‘way out’, an olive branch.
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I think many people have had relationships where they might say this
This scene in particular intrigues me, because she is acknowledging fault in a way that Andrew strictly avoids doing — and well, there’s nothing Andrew likes more than a good way to avoid acknowledging any fault of his own. With her dominant relationship over their father as a model for Andrew to draw comparisons to his own relationship with Ashley with, it’s no surprise that the narrative resonates with him to the point of ‘Accept’ being many people’s first completion.
Of course, that’s not all there is to it. There is a fascinating contrast with her later conversation with Ashley, where she — despite accusing Ashley of brainwashing Andrew — refers to Leyley and Andy as ‘two psychos’ and states that she always knew they were responsible for Nina’s death and that, implicitly, they owe her for not turning them in. 
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There's something about mother-daughter relationships here that I just do not have the time or reading to dig into, unfortunately.
Meanwhile, when Andrew interrogates her on her possession of their death certificates, she has… an interesting, plausible story about a life insurance scam and claims that she really did think they died in the fire, implicitly denying the claim that she sold them. It’s entirely possible that she’s describing the details of the ‘scam’ correctly — you can even buy that she genuinely does care for Andrew in some way, if not Ashley, but her claim about being an honest, grieving parent shocked at their deaths… doesn’t add up?
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This is a very normal reaction to your supposedly dead children showing up in your house.
As Andrew himself notes after hearing her story, she’s full of shit. This gets into speculation, because there are a few ways to read this, but the most plausible ‘gist’ is that she and her partner were paid off in money and jobs to not raise a fuss — the surgeon she mentioned is almost certainly the founder of ToxiSoda, remember?
The overwhelming difference in presentation between how she speaks to Andrew and Ashley invites investigation — and when Andrew turns down her offer and tells her he isn’t interested in her offer in Decline, her reaction isn’t… despair, it’s shock — and well, there’s a good reason for that.
Why do you think she did it in the first place?
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This is the happiest we see her
Well — it’s so she can finally fit into society. That white picket fence, that idyllic 1950s life — hell you can call it the American Dream. She wants that, or as close to it as she can get — the working-class teen mother, living in poverty, aspiring to the middle-class. It’s a very common, very real and very grounded motivation.
And to that end, she effectively sold off her children. It’s no wonder she can’t fathom why Andrew wouldn’t choose the same.
That’s the part that makes you think — just like the deaths in Episode 1, well- maybe the siblings are justified here, too. It’s a weaker argument, but it’s still one you can make under many common moral paradigms today — what goes around comes around, all that jazz. Just look at how awful she was to Ashley.
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She’s finally found what she’s been striving for.
Here’s the thing, here’s the thing though — what, reasonably, could she have done? Andrew and Ashley briefly highlight this in conversation about Ashley’s ‘friends’ in Episode 1 — was she supposed to fight gunmen to try and break them out? Throw food to the balcony from four stories?
Moreover, as she herself says to Andrew… would anyone really have been able to do better than her in her position? She was seventeen when Ashley was born, living in poverty with a partner who couldn’t even remember Andrew’s name when he was a kid. Anyone would have had difficulty, let alone with these kids.
Her evils are — they’re not any deliberate action, but rather… prompted inaction. She didn’t have the emotional energy, resources or plain capability to properly parent her children, she didn’t have any solutions to their murder of Nina in a state so blatantly hostile to its underclass, she didn’t have a way to connect with Ashley and she took the money rather than fight a futile and likely suicidal battle against a corporation and its armed goons in a dystopian setting.
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Ashley, notably, does not deny this.
Her sin is the one we’re all, I think, guilty of — that of not trying hard enough, that of inaction in the face of difficult tasks, of not standing up on principle because it’s just too much that day and you don’t have the spoons, you’ll do it tomorrow (no you won’t). It’s a petty, everyday kind of evil — that of not doing enough. 
Is that enough to condemn her? Certainly, there’s a pretty manipulative read of her that likely has some truth to it — in the locked door in Ashley’s dream in ‘Decay’ you can discover that she has a ‘not-hatched’ tar soul — but consider that lens — the game won’t make up your mind for you, so you’ll need to choose that for yourself.
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The dad is interesting in terms of negative space — but he’s mostly important in that he doesn’t matter, so I decided to not fit him in here. He has art, though — just no sprite, because, well, he’s never mattered to either sibling.
The Contract We Call Society
Right, it’s time to get a little bit Theoretical in here. Not much, but a little. Social contract theory is a complex topic with a lot of nuance, much of which I will be eliding in the name of not writing a twenty thousand word paper on semiotics, law, and anthropology, but the short analogy is… the idea that as long as you play by society’s rules, as long as you are a good citizen, a good person, the state, or the community, will take care of you.
In a number of ways, the harshest penalty levied by many historical states and legal codes was not death, but rather the criminal status of outlawry, a practice that’s cropped up a number of times in history — the practice of no longer being protected by the law. This meant one could be killed or worse with impunity — you were no longer protected by mob justice and, while overexaggerated as a term of reference, certain texts from Medieval England refer to outlaws as bearing a wolfshead, ‘for the wolf is a beast hated by all folk’. Never minding that wolves are actually delightful, this was a time when wolves were actively hunted and sold by people — and the same was intended to happen to outlaws. They were ‘fair targets’ as far as society was concerned, no longer to be treated as your fellow citizens.
This was the gravest punishment on the books, for most of these legal codes — something saved for those who had broken the social contract so completely that there could be no turning back (civil outlawry is… a bit different, that’s not the topic here). Among others, a modern critique of the concept is that it offers no incentive for improvement, no incentive to change or to cease harming society — if an outlaw has none of the social contract’s protections, what reason do they have to obey… any of the social contract? If that seems familiar, well, let me ask you this:
What if the state or community fails its end first? What responsibility does the innocent outlaw have to that contract?
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It’s an interesting phrasing, that the world is better off.
It’s time to talk about the incest, and part of why it’s there. The cannibalism too, but that’s less impactful here. If you’ve seen me elsewhere, you might have seen me say that the incest is a load-bearing narrative pillar — in large part due to it being a critical facet of the siblings’ relationship, but in another large part due to it being an equally critical part of how the game uses taboo.
A taboo is in this context something that is considered repulsive and to be avoided by society. It’s a more complex term than that — you can also use it for certain sacred actions or utterances that are only permitted to certain people, for example — but that’s what it is here. Swearing, premarital sex, BDSM and murder are, approximately from weak to strong, some example taboos held in modern Anglospheric society. 
Strong taboos are a staple of horror — they shock, they disgust, they draw people’s attention and it’s that last one that’s critical here. Incest is a very strong taboo — while I am absolutely not segueing into its historical context, the very well-established Westermarck effect gives it a certain timelessness and immunity to desensitisation that most other taboos don’t have — murder, to contrast, is a taboo we’re largely desensitised to in modern media and works of modern media have to put in actual work to make a murder seem horrifying — through atmosphere, cinematography, evocative prose etc.
And this is important because the use of taboo I’m covering in this essay is that the incest is used to invite judgment — it is so ingrained as a ‘wrong thing’ in people’s brains almost regardless of background that it forces the player to engage with the work morally. And that’s where the fun starts.
I’ve mentioned before, very briefly, about the juxtaposition of tone between the Burial & Decay endings, contrasting with the very monstrous difference in morality. Burial is remarkably light-hearted — they play around with the drain blockage, they joke about their mother’s personality and this is further exaggerated on the Love path, where Andrew is much more comfortable with casual contact and the two make a game out of how far they can throw their parents’ skulls, the humour is directly contrasted against their abhorrent actions.
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I’ll be real Ashley is far more merciful than I, I’m shuddering at the thought of that gunk in my hair
In comparison, Decay is… bleak. I’ve seen it being referred to as being ‘emotionally sandblasted’ and, yeah I think that’s fair — it’s uncomfortable, it’s heavy and it’s just not fun. And this is the route in which, if you chose Trust into Accept, Andrew has bought into the narrative that his mother’s offered — that he can fit just fine into society if he wasn’t stuck, if not for Ashley — the route that ‘fits’ most closely to the social contract, to Andrew feeling the guilt that we think he should and hating the monsters that they’ve become, as the social contract deems them. Given the pains the game takes to attach the player to the protagonists, this normative moral ending is very easily interpreted as the bad ending.
And well, isn’t it?
Thing is, as mentioned above, the social contract has never held up its end for them. The game takes careful pains to point out to a viewer that they’ve never had the life that society promises people, so why do its moral standards apply?
The game invites you to judge the characters, and in the same motion, asks you from what principles you judge them, making a pretty good guess in that, like most people who haven’t spent a large amount of time navel-gazing and reading some very boring books by very dusty old men, they come from the society around you.
Love even has Ashley express this sentiment directly after the incestuous dream — she asks you — well, Andrew, but this is also something for the player to mull over — why this is what’s engaged your morality or sense of revulsion, rather than the desecration, cannibalism or murder.
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Andrew and Ashley are both very funny and very fascinating in this scene.
And that’s the framing that it casts all of its own moral judgement in — even the ‘tar-soul’ aspect is… well, it’s unclear what it even means. Mrs. Graves was a ‘not-hatched’ tar soul, after all. Other than that, it’s society and the world being better off without them, rather than any kind of assertion of objective morality. Due to the present of ‘soul colour’, we’ll presumably see the game make some moral statements in Episode 3, but as it stands?
It’s nearly completely morally sceptical, in and of itself — it’s not interested in moral assertions or education, it’s interested in making you question your own morals. Deconstructive (not that kind), rather than dialectic, to be mildly pretentious.
It uses taboo and shock to invite moral judgement, but then uses tone, charm and our instinct to look for the happiest end for our blorbos to get you to recognise that these are principles you yourself brought into the game, rather than any it’s handed you. 
To summarise: you’ve brought these principles in from society, but what do the siblings, the protagonists, the villains to the world, owe society? Enough that they should follow them? It failed them first, after all.
Closing Thoughts
This one is a bit less energetic than the last, tragically — my sleeping schedule is the stuff of nightmares recently, I love windy weather. Wait, no the opposite. Huge thank you to everyone who commented on the last one, you are the wind beneath my wings and the main reason I managed to get this out this week.
This essay is a bit more interpretative than my last one — certainly, there are alternative readings and I’ve been toying with the idea of deliberately taking a reading I don’t like very much and writing from that perspective as a demonstrative exercise recently — mostly that you shouldn’t just take my word for things!
Otherwise, if the last bit at the end seemed murky, I apologise — I did try to write a more detailed version, but firstly, it was three thousand words and secondly, I re-read it the next day and I could not understand what the fuck I was talking about. Personally, I blame Derrida — suffice to say that I strongly recommend playing through it with an eye towards considering culpability, morality and why you think certain characters are more or less forgivable than others, and for what deeds. See what you get out of it.
I managed to keep one particular thread open to wrap up with here —  I try to keep speculation on Episode 3 content to a minimum in the main essays, but it should be fine here — you might have noticed that I refer to Episode 1 and Episode 2 being on something of a spectrum of justifiability, with the siblings’ actions being ‘more’ justifiable in Episode 1 and ‘less’ justifiable — but still justifiable if you try — in Episode 2. 
To continue the thought of the happiest ending being the one in which they step the furthest away from common morality and to further jar the viewers’ sense of morality by contrasting societal morality and blorbo-oriented morality, Episode 3: Burial could continue this trend in having a major victim be someone who, well, has done nothing wrong and isn’t even guilty of bystander syndrome.
I wonder if there’s any good candidates, someone who’s sweet, harmless and will indisputably be an innocent victim…
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…I’m sure she’ll be fine
439 notes · View notes
badomensbaby · 5 months
Text
rules of the road. lrh
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pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader
summary: finally getting your driver's license after moving to the big city for college, you're a bit stunned by your dorky, charming driving instructor.
warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. flirting/flustering, protected smut, praise kink, mommy kink, car sex, safe sane and consensual, explicit sexual content. (driving instructor! luke, racecar driver! luke)
words: 6,307
a/n: one beautiful evening, as i was driving home with a frosty from wendy's balanced in my lap, i saw a student driver vehicle and i was like! hm! what if... and then this kind of happened. i tried to keep a keen eye while editing but if there's an error, feel free to let me know! <3
feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!
Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
You weren't a typically nervous person.
Growing up in a town where you practically had to just figure it out on your own, nothing really got under your skin. Not tractor maintenance nor harvest schedules, or that nasty little wasp's nest in the cattle barn in the spring.
But tests, those were a different story.
From college entrance exams to applying for your driver's license, those were the types of tests that made your heart race and your palms clam up. Because it was the unknown that bothered you so much. The unfamiliarity.
And, sprinkle in the fact that you'd left the family farm to pursue a college degree into the mix and every worry's been increased tenfold. As the baby of the family, first daughter behind a handful of rowdy, hard-working boys, being the first of your household to attend college was a serious milestone. You could only hope to make your parents and siblings proud.
But moving to the big city meant learning to drive. Well, legally. You've spent countless hours in your father's farm truck or your grandfather's tractor, you weren't necessarily inexperienced when it came to driving but you've never really been surrounded by other drivers. Just gravel roads and grassy two-tracks and your bothers dirt bikes.
The initial exam, a knowledge test about road signs and rules, wasn't too bad. They'd given you a practice test and a helpful guide booklet when you'd arrived at your appointment. It felt odd, being just barely twenty years old and taking a driver knowledge exam alongside kids barely pushing sixteen. You felt behind but it wasn't your fault.
Nerves didn't erupt in your stomach until the kind lady in the Secretary of State's office informed you that you'd be taking an on-road driver skills test. An instructor will watch you, quiz you, and grade you accordingly and if you fail, you can kiss your ability to drive legally goodbye until you pass.
Now that makes you nervous. Like there's ravenous butterflies swarming your stomach. You're already under a lot of pressure with fall classes starting soon and your part-time job, now you're worried about passing your driver's exam. The lady assured you there's nothing to fret over, that the instructor you've been assigned is well versed in the rules of the road and he's a total sweetheart.
Waiting in the parking lot wasn't the worst part. You were told he'd arrive shortly, a man named Mr. Hemmings, in one of the contracted company's instructing vehicles. Plastered with bright yellow stickers along the back, just shouting to everyone on the road that you're an inexperienced driver so take it easy.
Expecting some middle aged, married, grumpy man with nothing positive to say, the nerves weren't so bad as you basked in the moderate heat of the Michigan summer sun. Your phone pings a few times, a slew of good lucks and you've got this! from your family members. You don't even realize there's a stark white Toyota Camry pulling up to the curb until the scuff of shoes on the asphalt catches your attention.
"Y/N L/N?" A thick, low voice questions. A text message to your eldest brother sits unfinished beneath your thumbs, lips parting with shock. There's no bald patch or flat tire sticking out beneath his shirt, hell it barely looks like he's wearing a shirt at all because the white fabric is so snug and pulled taught over his abdomen and chest and arms that it's absolutely ludicrous. "Y/N?" he repeats.
"Yeah- yeah, that's me," You hesitantly stand, shoving your phone in the pocket of your jeans before brushing your now clammy hands along your thighs. His eyes flicker between the clipboard in his hand and you, shamelessly raking up and down your frame before clearing his throat.
"Great," His lips twist into a wide, toothy smile, shoulders seemingly relaxing at the confirmation. His stance laxes, nodding his head of bouncy, golden curls towards the vehicle that's idling behind him. "Why don't we go ahead and get started?"
You nod, swallowing the thick lump forming in your throat, hardly maintaining eye contact with the instructor as you climb into the driver's seat and watch him awkwardly fit himself into the seat beside you. "Okay," He blows out a breath. "I'm Mr. Hemmings but you can just call me Luke, it's easier and nobody likes saying a long name especially if you're in a panic."
You barely manage a short, clipped laugh. "Rad. Anyway, we're gonna be in here for the next hour or so. I'm mainly here to make sure you understand vehicle safety and that you're prepared to operate this beauty on your own," With a laugh, Mr. Hemmings taps the dashboard with his palm. "Well, not this beauty obviously, but you get my point. Oh! And I have break pedals over here just in case. I haven't used them yet this month so please don't put us in a situation where I might need to."
He's funny, you'll admit. In a dorky, charming kind of way. He hasn't stopped smiling the entire time and you're curious if he's just that way in general or if it's a front because he probably deals with some right idiots when it comes to being an instructor. "You're quiet."
"Sorry," You mumble, hands still folded in your lap. "I'm just a bit nervous."
"There's really no need," he assures you, turning in his seat with an excited smile. "If you've passed your vision and knowledge tests then this is like, a cakewalk. Have you driven before?"
"Yeah, back home," You tell him. "Mostly just old trucks, though. I don't think I've ever driven a proper car."
"Cool, car virgin. I like that," Luke turns his attention back to the clipboard, scribbling something that you're unable to make out because it's complete chicken scratch. "Well, why don't we get going so we can stay on track."
"Okay," You breathe out, clasping the seatbelt over your lap. Under your breath, you rattle off the first steps of safety before your hands ever touch the steering wheel. Seatbelt, check. Rearview mirror, check. Side mirrors, check. When everything seems as it should, you rest one hand on the wheel before shifting the vehicle into drive, peering out of the passenger's side mirror to ensure no cars are coming up behind you in the lot.
Luke stays silent, observing you, pen hovering over his checklist sheet. As you head towards the exit, you realize you have absolutely no clue where you're meant to go. "Uhh-"
"Take a left here," Luke tells you. Signaling, you check both ways for any oncoming traffic before exiting the parking lot, keeping an eye on the speed limit signs posted on the side of the road. "And at the next light, hang a right. We'll follow that through downtown and then get you on the highway for a bit."
Nodding, you try to keep yourself composed and not let the nerves get to you as you follow his instruction. You make sure to slow down appropriately as you cruise through the city's downtown area, briefly taking in the brick buildings and shops as you pass.
The vehicle's air is a little stiff, a little warm underneath the summer sun and you're considering asking Luke if he can turn the air on but he's too busy drumming his fingertips along his bare thigh to really pay you any mind. You'd always heard that driving instructors were very observant, overly cautious and very strict about everything but Luke's so laid back it's slowly beginning to relieve your nerves.
"Would you mind turning on the air?" Luke asks, eyes soft and kind when you glance over at him. You're just trekking along behind other vehicles, following signs for the highway that's still a few miles out. It's probably one of the things on his checklist, for you to tinker with something and hope it doesn't distract you enough to cause any accidents.
Glancing at the various knobs, luckily they're standard and simple, similar to your father's truck so pressing two buttons quickly has cool air flowing into the car. You feel a little more at ease, less of an iron grip on the steering wheel. "You're doing great, by the way." Luke chimes in.
"Thanks," You keep an eye on the Jeep that keeps randomly breaking in front of you, easing off of the accelerator when applicable. You weren't a newbie when it came to driving itself, just following the actual road laws and learning the flow of traffic. "I need to turn right up here?" You ask.
Luke hums with a nod. He's began muttering some tune under his breath along with his finger-drumming, as if he isn't remotely worried about you merging onto the highway. Picking up speed, you join alongside the few cars rumbling along the road. "We'll take this to the next town over, about thirty minutes, then we'll head back and do a few simple maneuvers and that's it."
You nod, fighting the urge to sigh. Who knew your road test would be so boring? There's no music, just the sound of your tires on the asphalt and Luke's low humming. "Why'd you decide to become an instructor? Isn't it- well, boring?"
A slow chuckle slips out of your instructor's mouth, elbow perched on the door, hand clasped against the side of his face. "It's not all boring, I swear. I just like helping people become confident drivers. You'd be surprised how many students I've had that are too terrified to even start the engine."
"You're pretty laid back, it's definitely making me less nervous," You laugh softly, keeping your eyes on the empty road. "Helps that you're not bad looking either."
Shit, you weren't meant to say that.
In your peripheral, you can see Luke squirm slightly in his seat, instantly worrying that you've made him uncomfortable. You're about to retract your statement and apologize but the grin that overtakes his pink lips stops you. "Thank you," he says honestly, his tone a little strained. "So are you. I mean, I wouldn't say not bad looking, you're pretty- like quite pretty- and okay, is it a little warm in here? Jeez."
You stifle a laugh at his nervous rambling. It's cute, kind of refreshing, too. But a weight settles in your stomach because no, you absolutely cannot think your driving instructor is cute. Doesn't that cross some kind of line? Break a rule? It has to. "So- are you uh.. getting your driver's license to.. drive to your boyfriend's house orr.."
Oh god, he's also pretty damn terrible at flirting. Normally, you'd find it cringey and a tad obnoxious but it's cute on him. Adorable, even, because he's definitely a handful of years older than you but he flusters so easily it makes your confidence soar.
There's nothing wrong with indulging in it, is there? It's not like you're gonna fuck him on the side of the highway or anything.
"No boyfriend," You keep a straight face, like you're intently focused on the billboards you pass by. "Or girlfriend." You tack on, just to see him flounder a little more.
"Oh- yeah, rad," Luke nods a few times. "That's- yeah, okay, cool."
God, he's so fucking cute. How'd you get so damn lucky to have him as an instructor?
Luke's tapping the window ledge aimlessly, almost looking uncomfortable but not with you, like something's gnawing at him. "Hey, can you pull off at this rest stop for a minute? I need to- uh- bathroom. Yeah."
"Sure." You signal off, slowing down as you near the small building, only a few cars scattered in the parking lot. Luke quickly unbuckles himself and slips out of the car, almost too fast for you to realize there's a tent in his shorts. Well, fuck.
You've never really been the hook-up type in the past, coming from such a small town there's slim pickings when you know everyone's faults. Only when your family would travel up to Mackinac Island or down to Kalamazoo to visit family would you end up fooling around with some local for an afternoon but that didn't happen very often.
Though the circumstances aren't ideal, there's obviously some kind of attraction on both sides. Probably just some silly short-term infatuation and who knows what's running through Luke's mind. But he's hot, there's no denying that, and guilt tugs at your chest because he's here to do a job and you're just being a massive distraction.
Luke returns about fifteen minutes later, a little flushed in the face but there's this look he's sporting that looks nothing short of pure bliss. You're not stupid, you can recognize a post-orgasm haze from a million miles away.
God, did he really get off in a public rest stop bathroom? What the hell was he so worked up over? You bite back any inappropriate questions lingering on your tongue as he buckles himself in and you merge back onto the highway.
Luke doesn't say a word until it's time to circle back. He's quiet, too quiet, thrumming his fingers against his knee in a rhythm you aren't able to recognize. You decide to go the exact speed limit, setting the cruise control and waiting for Luke to ask why you've done that but no such comment comes.
"You okay?" You finally ask. The two of you are trapped in here for at least another thirty minutes on the highway alone, then likely another twenty or thirty around town after that. The silence isn't deafening but it's making you a little uneasy.
"Me? Yeah- I'm great. Fantastic, actually. Why wouldn't I be? Nothing's wrong. Everything's peachy." The instructor rambles.
Something's definitely wrong. You're not a very confrontational person but you'd rather have whatever issue at hand out in the open than let it linger silently the remainder of your test. "Luke-"
As you're getting his attention, the car begins to splutter. Numerous lights illuminate the dashboard, a loud rumbling sound making the steering wheel shake beneath your hands. Immediately, Luke begins to press on the emergency instructor's breaks and with some guidance, he helps you pull off on the shoulder just as the engine dies.
Not believing the sight before you, you turn to Luke, who's equally as shocked and silent, both of your chests heaving. "What the hell?" You ask aloud.
"I have no clue," Luke says frantically. "The car's been running fine all day. There weren't any warning lights, were there?"
Truthfully, you don't remember. "I don't.. think so? All of them lit up before it crapped out."
"Shit," Luke curses lowly. "Let me see if I can figure out what's going on."
Luke slips out of the Camry, leaving his clipboard behind. You hear him yell, muffled, "Pop the hood!" And you do, after taking a second to find the button with your shaky fingers.
The longer Luke is beneath the hood the longer you worry. It's an early Thursday evening, on a fairly quiet highway, and the likelihood that some passerby is going to offer assistance is slim. Plus, tow trucks in this area only operate within a ten mile radius, so it's unlikely you'll find one for a reasonable price if the car is toast.
This is what you get for thinking he's cute, your brain tosses at you. You know it isn't true but it's kind of ironic, isn't it?
Luke slips back inside the car. "Well, one of the hoses broke," He sighs, digging through the pockets of his shorts in search of his cellphone. "So the car won't start even if we wanted it to. We'll have to call a tow truck."
"Of course this would happen during my driving exam," You sigh, eyes fluttering shut as a low, frustrated groan crawls up your throat. "Just my luck."
"I probably shouldn't include the fact that I have no service then, should I?"
Your eyes pry open. "What?" You ask, finding your phone and sure enough, no fucking signal. "Seriously? We're on the damn highway, not in the middle of the ocean!"
"Hey, we'll be fine," Luke rests his hand momentarily on your shoulder and you try to ignore the goosebumps rising on your skin. Sheepishly, he pulls it away. "I'll see if I can make an emergency call to highway patrol."
"Please do," You mumble weakly.
Your father would have a field day if he could see you. Barely a week into living away from them and you're stranded on the side of the highway with a hot driving instructor. What a joke.
With no luck, Luke groans, tossing his phone onto the dashboard. "My phone died," he says. "Can you call on yours?"
"Yeah," You dial using your phone's emergency function, only to be met with CALL FAILED in big letters. "How the hell can an emergency call fail?"
"Okay, well at least we've both probably eaten recently and I keep snacks in the trunk," You toss a glare towards the blonde, not finding his statement remotely relieving at all. "What? Teenagers get grumpy so I always have granola bars on hand."
"So we're stuck," You sigh softly. Luke nods, hands toying with one another. "Until I get signal or someone passing by takes pity on us."
"I'm sorry Y/N," Luke says quietly. "About- about all of this. I really had no idea, this car's never given me any problems."
"It's not your fault," You glance over at him, noticing his lower lip tucked between his teeth. "I'm gonna walk a bit and see if I can get signal, alright?"
"You shouldn't go alone," Luke says, a bit rushed. "I mean, not that you aren't capable or anything because I'm sure you are - female empowerment and all that I just- uh-"
"Just stay here," You say, a little clipped. You aren't upset with him, just the situation. "I'll be right back."
Luke swallows thickly, blue eyes wide. "Yes m'am."
You slip out of the car and begin walking along the shoulder, grass and gravel crunching beneath your feet, checking your cellphone every few seconds in hopes that a signal will appear. A big fat SOS stares back at you, practically mocking you.
After ten or so minutes, you aren't sure how far you've walked but you can't see the Camry anymore. You know it'll cool off soon as the sun begins to set and it'll be best if you're somewhere safe. Regretfully, you head back to the car to find Luke scribbling on his clipboard in the passenger seat.
"Nothing," You say, checking your phone once more, noticing it's been about thirty minutes since you've pulled off the road. "What're you drawing over there?"
"Just doodling," He says, showing you a mix of scribbles along the bottom of your driving checklist. "What else am I supposed to do? We're stuck for the time being."
"Yeah, you're right."
It's silent for a few minutes, aside from Luke's been inking the checklist. "We could.. play a game, maybe? Something to keep our minds off of.. y'know, the whole car breaking down thing."
"What kind of game?" You ask.
"Oh- uh, twenty questions?" Luke offers.
You snort. Twenty questions is for horny teenagers, not two almost-strangers stuck in a broken down vehicle on the side of the highway. "Guess that's a no."
"What about what are the odds?" You suggest. "I played it all the time with my soccer friends, it's pretty fun."
"Okay," Luke agrees. "You'll have to explain the rules to me, though."
You sit up a little straighter, a smile unknowingly tugging at your lips. Maybe there's an ulterior motive ping-ponging in the back of your mind. Maybe.
"It's really easy. One of us says something like 'what are the odds that you'll make an embarrassing noise', then pick a number in your head, and on the count of three we'll both say a number and if it's the same the other person has to do that thing. Make sense?"
"I think I've got it," Luke nods, turning in his seat with excited eyes. He looks fucking adorable. You shake your head, getting comfortable in the seat. "Okay, can I go first?"
"Go for it."
"Okay- uh, what are the odds that you'll.. you'll- tell me something about yourself?"
That's not quite it but a good start, Luke.
"One through fifteen." You say. "Three.. two... one.."
"Ten."
"Twelve."
"Ah, shit," Luke frowns. "I don't think I'm very good at this."
"You'll get the hang of it," You tap his knee with the back of your hand without a thought, watching his cheeks twinge pink. "I'll go. What are the odds you'll pass me?"
"One in.. ten," Luke says. "Three.. two.. one.."
"Six."
"Six."
"Aha!" You grin, victoriously. "See, I'm a mindreader."
"As if I'd flunk you," Luke rolls his eyes. "You're a good driver, Y/N. You need to be a little more confident but there's no way I'd fail you."
You need to be a little more confident. Sure, Luke was talking about driving but that doesn't mean you can't apply that statement to anything else, right?
"Alright, my turn," Luke rolls his lips in thought. "What are the odds that.. you'd be my friend on Facebook?"
"Facebook?" You ask, a brow raised. "Nobody uses Facebook anymore, Luke."
"I do," Luke defends softly, shoulders drawing inward. "Just play along, Y/N."
"Okay, fine," You laugh softly. "Uhh, one in ten. Three.. two.. one.."
"Four."
"Eight."
"Damn, looks like we won't be Facebook friends," You tease, the flush still bright and red and pretty on Luke's cheeks. He's so easy to fluster. You almost regret what you're about to say. "What are the odds you'll admit the real reason we stopped at the rest area?"
Luke's face falls. "I.." He glances away from you, clearly caught off guard and there's a stinging in your chest. You should've just kept your mouth shut, he didn't deserve to be called out like that.
"I'm so sorry, that was too far, I-"
"It's..okay," Luke lets out a wavering breath. "I feel really bad about that," Your brows furrow. "Look I- I think you're really pretty and this is so, so unprofessional of me but I uh- you said girlfriend and my mind just- went off on it's own. I'm sorry."
"Oh," Your mouth feels dry all of a sudden. "You were thinking of me with- oh."
Luke looks away, clearly embarrassed, a blush blooming down his neck. "I'm sorry, Y/N. It was really inappropriate and I shouldn't have."
"It's okay," You assure him. Luke looks like a kicked puppy, unsure as his eyes slowly meet yours, not quite believing you. "Seriously, it's fine. I- yeah, I'm also into girls. I don't blame you for your.. thoughts, or whatever."
Luke sucks in a sharp breath, like you've said something sinfully explicit. "I- maybe we should end the game here before I say something really stupid."
He isn't covert about it, covering his growing hard-on, beginning to tent his shorts. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, trailing along the inside of your lower lip. Fuck, you have quite the opportunity here and it would be a shame if you let it go to waste. Consensually, of course.
"You're thinking about me with a girl again, aren't you?" You boldly accuse, your eyes narrowing in a teasing manner, watching Luke's gentle blue eyes widen and mouth fall open. "It's okay if you are."
He's so.. submissive. You've never really explored the whole dynamic of positions like that but making your instructor blush and squirm makes you feel.. hot.
"Maybe," Luke's voice is small, soft, and you're loving every second of it. "Y/N, I-"
"What're you thinking about, Luke?" You ask, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the center console, your tone low. "Me kissing another girl, maybe? Getting all hot and bothered and messy and wet?"
A whimper crawls up his throat. "I- fuck."
You trail a finger along his thigh, tracing the leg of his shorts. "Maybe you'd just watch, huh?" You provoke him, watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah- I would.." His voice is weak, lips parting and soft little pants escaping them. He's so easy for it, you love it. The dominance rolling off of you in waves seems to come naturally and who are you to deny it? "Y/N.."
"What, Luke? What do you need?"
Need. Luke keens. "I.. can I.."
"You wanna touch yourself?" You ask.
"No.. you, please."
You hum. How can you say no, when he sounds so wrecked like that? "Think there's enough room for us in the back there?"
"Don't wanna.. move," Luke mumbles, eyes already glazed over. He's so far gone. "My lap?"
You won't toy with him anymore, not when he's offering to get you off. To touch you. God, his fingers are beautiful and long and you're dying to have them buried inside of you. "Yeah, 'kay." You puff out, watching Luke adjust himself properly and helping guide you to sit in his lap, your knees on either side of his hips.
It isn't ideal but it'll work. He works with shaky, excited hands to unfasten the button and zipper of your jean shorts before trailing his fingers along the waistline of your underwear. "Can I?" You nod, teeth sinking into your lower lip in anticipation.
Without hesitance, Luke dips his hand into the waistband, finding your damp heat with ease. His fingers curl around you, whimpering at the warmth before a finger slips inside of you, slick and velvety. "Oh- fuck."
"Luke," You moan out softly, clasping a hand on the instructor's shoulder. He carries a steady pace, sliding a second finger beside the first, brutally hard at the warmth coating his digits. "Fuck, feels so good."
"You're so wet," He mumbles, like he's surprised, peering up at your blissed out features. "Fuck, did I- did I do this to you?"
"Yes," Your hips shift greedily, making his fingers sink deeper into you. "You're just so.."
"So?" You can feel his breath against your collarbone through your shirt.
"So needy," You moan, rotating your hips, effectively riding Luke's fingers, like he's some kind of toy. "It's so hot, how hard you get so easily- I- fuck, there."
"Y/N," Luke pants against you, his free hand trailing up to your hip, holding tightly. "Wanna make you cum, please."
"Yeah?" You breathe out. "Gonna let me ride your fingers? Fuck myself until I cum?"
"Oh god," Luke trembles, his movements faltering but it doesn't matter, you're moving steadily and the more you shift the more his fingers hit that perfect spot. You can feel it in your toes, that you're close, but you need something else to get you there.
"Did you think about me?" You ask, a light sweat forming on your brow. "When you got off in the bathroom? Did you moan for me?"
"Yes," Luke admits in a whine. "Yes- fucking- came so hard, Y/N. Thought of you the whole time."
Just thinking about Luke, working his cock so quickly in his fist thinking about you is enough, warmth flooding your stomach as your orgasm rapidly approaches and you're releasing all over Luke's fingers. Like a fucking floodgate.
"Oh fuck," You hear him moan, fingers slowing as your hips come to a halt. "Fuck, Y/N."
Blissful and warm and flushed, Luke retracts his fingers from you, the digits glistening as he slips them into his mouth with needy, complacent hums. He looks more wrecked than you do.
"Can I- can I ride you?" You blurt.
Luke goes rigid. "What?"
"I wanna ride you," You reiterate. "I wanna fuck you, Luke. Can I?"
"You- yeah, fuck of course," Luke's eyes are blue and glassy and glazed and you aren't even sure how he's functioning right now. He hasn't even cum yet so- wait. "Just give me a minute.."
Curiously, you shift back a bit on his lap to see he's half-hard and there's an obvious damp patch on the front of his shorts. "Did you cum while you were touching me?"
Luke nods. "Sorry."
"Fuck that's so hot," You can't help it, fitting both hands beneath his jaw to tilt his head upward, capturing his lips easily with your own. He tastes like spearmint gum and flavored coffee, it's all you can think about when you feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip. That was too easy, you can already feel his dick fattening against your thigh again. "Do you have a condom?"
"In my wallet," Luke pants against your mouth. "I wasn't like- expecting this, by the way."
"Neither was I," You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Let me get my shorts off."
Car sex seems so hot in theory until you're caught up in the moment and you're stuck trying to take off clothing where it's just not possible. You manage to slip your shorts off, leaving your damp underwear on before claiming Luke's lap once again. The condom sits in the crevice between his thigh and hip, fly open and dick straining against the seam of his boxers.
"Get yourself ready for me," You tell him softly, your fingertips trailing along your lower abdomen, along the inside of your shirt to cup your breasts beneath your bra. Luke's in a trance, nearly swallowing his own tongue before nodding and barely wiggling his shorts and boxers down his hips. He slips the condom on, abandoning the foil packet god knows where, before stroking himself a few times with a gentle hiss. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."
Luke squirms at that. "Thank you," he mutters. "Can I- are you ready?"
"So ready," He carefully aligns his hips with yours before slowly pressing inside, letting out tiny whimpers with every inch he sinks in. "Fuck."
"Y/N," Luke moans, eyes threatening to fall shut. His hands find your thighs, blunt nails digging into the soft skin there, hips threatening to rut upwards at the sheer warmth encasing his cock. It's immeasurable, how good you feel wrapped snugly around him.
"So good, Luke, you're doing so good," You praise gently, holding yourself upright with your hands on his broad shoulders. Once he's buried to the hilt, you slowly rock your hips in a circle, eliciting a short gasp from the blonde. "Such a good boy."
The simple phrase makes Luke choke on his own breath. "You're so warm," he mumbles, lips barely moving, chest rising and falling steadily. You rock your hips again. "Oh my god."
Luke isn't like the guys you've slept with before. He's sensitive and responsive and it's probably the hottest thing you've ever witnessed. It's like he's fighting the urge to give in. Slowly, you begin to bounce in his lap, testing the waters. Luke moans every time you sink down.
"Yeah?" You ask him after a particularly whiny moan falls from his mouth. "Feel good, Luke? Tell me. Tell me how good it feels."
"Feels so good," He babbles, a wheezy, whining mess every bounce you make. It's slick and wet and so fucking hot you know you'll cum again sometime soon. He's hitting all the right spots inside of you. It helps he's probably the biggest dick you've taken by far. "So good. Please don't stop, please."
"Not gonna stop," You mutter, nails sinking into the skin of his shoulders. "You're such a good boy, Luke. Taking it so well. Feel so good inside me."
Luke lets out a squeak when you clench around him. "Mommy-"
Your hips falter briefly but you can't stop, you refuse, because that word, though you've never been called that before it lights a flame inside of your stomach that makes you want more and more and more. "Yeah?" You abandon your grip on one of his shoulders to clasp his jaw, making Luke meet your eyes, his half lidded and cloudy and dark blue. "Gonna let mommy fuck you, Luke? Ride your cock until she cums?"
Luke bites down on his lower lip so hard he swears he can taste blood. His head is swirling, like yours, all fuzzy and fucked dumb. Your pace grows quicker, a bit more focused but frenzied, until Luke's panting to the point where he's babbling words that don't even make any sense. "Gonna- please- need-"
"What, Luke? What do you need?" You ask, ghosting your lips over his own. He whimpers against your mouth.
"Wanna cum, mommy. Can I?"
"Yeah baby," You press a hard kiss to his mouth, pushing your tongue past his lips and that's all he needs, gripping your thighs tightly until he's fully inside of you before releasing into the condom. Luke slumps slightly, clearly spent but you're far from finished. "Stay still, won't you?"
"What-" Luke mutters, flushed and confused when you begin to raise your hips and sink back down on him. "Oh fuck me."
"So close, Luke," He isn't softening in the slightest. It almost makes you smile, makes you proud because he's so turned on, just letting you use him like some kind of fuck toy. "Touch me?"
Luke nods, blissed out, attaching his thumb to your clit and rubbing furious, hard circles. Your thighs tremble as your orgasm builds up, toes curling inside of your shoes before finally letting go and releasing all over his length.
Shuddering through the warmth spreading up the base of your spine, your nails sink into the instructor's shoulders, panting against his mouth as he tips his head up to connect your lips in a soft kiss. Your skin feels tingly in the best way, electric, and your head swarming furiously.
Luke pulls away first. He's so flushed, from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck and you're positive that pretty pink blush has reached his naval, there's no doubt. He's definitely a full-body blusher. "Y/N.."
"Yeah?" You ask quietly, breathless, noticing the windows have fogged up a little bit from your activities.
"Can you.. sorry, it's just uh- the condom's a bit uncomfortable." The blonde grimaces apologetically, reddening further when you muffle out a short laugh and slowly climb off of him. Your underwear are soaked, from your own release, but you slide your shorts back on anyways as Luke ties off the condom and places it hesitantly on the floorboard.
Now that the two of you are dressed, less short on breath, you figure it might be best to address what the hell just happened. "Luke-"
"Y/N-"
"Sorry, go ahead," You mumble.
"I wasn't- planning that. Or, expecting it, I swear," Luke says rather quickly, eyes flitting away from you, a bit embarrassed. "Please don't think I make a habit of this. You're- you're the first."
You swallow harshly. "The first?"
A nervous, awkward laugh tumbles out of Luke's mouth. "No, no, that was a girlfriend in high school. I mean- uh- student."
"Oh," You puff out a relieved breath, resting your head back. You're still warm and relaxed from your orgasms. "Well in that case, I don't really sleep with driving instructors, so I guess it's a first for both of us."
"It's not.." Luke trails off, his voice low, like he isn't sure how to phrase what he's thinking. "It won't be the only time, will it?"
That comes as a bit of a surprise to you. Again, you weren't really the hook-up type but the guys you have hooked up with in the past were quick to forget it even happened and move on with their lives.
You're stunned into a short silence. Will that be the only time you hook up with Luke? Sure, he's funny, and insanely attractive, but aside from the few things you've shared during the drive he's still almost a complete stranger.
"I understand," Luke quietly says.
"No I- sorry, I was just- surprised," You say. "I'd like to see you again. Maybe not in a broken down car on the side of the highway."
Luke chuckles briefly. "Okay, cool," The tension seems to slip from his shoulders. "Sorry, I'm not really good at this. I don't really uh- date? Just, with work and everything it's hard to find the time."
"Being a driving instructor is that demanding?" You inquire, a lighthearted teasing lift to your voice. The highway is still dead silent and the sun is slowly beginning to set. Soon, you'll be cast in a hue of pinks and oranges and pretty purples.
"I race for a living," Luke says, catching your attention abruptly, your brows furrowing in confusion. "It's not something I really bring up in conversation or during uh- other things."
"You're not like, a Nascar driver or something, right?" You joke. Luke stays silent. "What the fuck?"
Way to go, Y/N. Fucking a driving instructor slash Nascar driver. Your parents would be so proud. Stupid girl.
"Like I said, I don't really tell people," Luke quickly defends, swallowing as an anxious look perturbs his features. "This doesn't uh- change anything right? About seeing me again?"
"No but if my dad finds out you're gonna be forced into every Sunday dinner until you're dead," You speak without thinking, still shocked about Luke's line of work. And here you were thinking he was just a dorky driving instructor for the state of Michigan. "Sorry, that was weird."
Luke laughs, shaking his head. He took your comment well, like too well, and you're starting to think maybe Luke isn't real at this point. He's too.. perfect. Handsome, dorky, a fucking racecar driver. "You're fine, I get it. Your dad's a big fan, then?"
"Huge," You sigh. "My brothers, too."
"You think they'd come to a race if I set aside some tickets?" Luke's teeth sink into his bottom lip, a hopeful look on his splotchy, pink face.
"I- I mean yeah," You stumble. "Luke, you really don't have to.."
"I want to," He reassures you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I really wanna see you again and if free tickets is the way I can then, I'd be dumb not to offer."
"For the record, I'd see you again regardless of the free tickets," You tell him, leaning to rest your elbows on the console. One of his eyebrows arch curiously, in a way that's so damn hot and Luke doesn't even realize it.
"Yeah?" he asks.
"Yeah," You confirm. "By the way-"
You're cut off by the chirping of a siren, glancing out of the rearview mirror to see a State Trooper has parked behind you, lights flashing.
Well fuck. This'll be fun.
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mintaikk · 8 months
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Zestial's Death Theory
Okay I was rewatching episode 3 cuz I love that episode, and I am still SO curious about Zestial. Mostly about his death. Because seriously, WHAT IS THIS???
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BUT, here is a theory I have.
Zestial speaks in Shakespearean English, so he probably died in the 1500s or 1600s. He is a bat spider thing, and I think he also has aspects of a vampire, so he probably died when it was really dark at night. I don't think he was an actual vampire when he was alive, but vampires, I think, stem from the fear of rabies, so perhaps he got rabies and died from that. I'd say the plague as a secondary option, but I don't really think that.
I think we can find clues of what he was in his design.
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He seems to have the outfit of what you'd think an upperclassmen at the time would wear (from what country? Idk. I assumed it was Romania or Britain). But, his hat seems a bit torn and ratty and reminds me a bit of a scarecrow, so perhaps he was a farmer when he was alive.
Why is he in Hell? Well, being a farmer, especially one who farms animals, gives you a lot of tools you'd use to kill. I think that he was a farmer by day, and by night, he was a murderer. Pretty good one too, being sneaky and always knowing how to avoid getting caught.
But, one day, a rabid bat bit him, and he contracted rabies. We all know what rabies does to a guy, right? So, at the beginning, he ended up becoming more and more sloppy with his murders, until he slowly became more and more deranged, and as his rabies got worse, so did his aggression. Instead of his calculated murders he was so used to, he would run up to people and bite them (on the neck?), like a rabid bat or a vampire.
There are 2 ways he could've died. The first one is that he died when he succumbed to the disease, and the second one is the people killed him out of fear. Either one could work, but if I think it's the second one, I like to believe that they put a stake through his heart. But man, him dying by himself in an empty field also sounds nice.
Anyways, do y'all have any theories about his death? I love talking about him.
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