#and you get to the third technique

[yamacaps]

[zukkaoru]

ohhh you guys are reading bsd without suspending your disbelief. you guys are expecting to get a clear cut perfectly understandable scientific explanation for something that can't actually happen in the real world, and then you're upset when you don't get it. you're forgetting that bsd has always had fantastical elements in it and it is not meant to be a 1:1 replication of Our World. you don't have to know and understand every single scientific concept being talked about in the recent chapters; you just have to be able to get the general idea and realize that this isn't the real world, so it won't make sense by the standards of our reality. then maybe you can stop whining about how nonsensical all the dialogue is and start appreciating the story itself

[volodam]

composition practice wip !!!!!

[loverboybrightsideghost]

no cuz you don't know how insane being a musician is. to play in tune, you could just listen if it "sounds right" (nebulous, vague, hard to get consistently), or much more effectively you can listen to overtones, which are basically secret magical notes that are activated and sound when you play the notes you're ACTUALLY playing in tune. and it is more effective, once you've trained yourself to hear them. while you're training yourself to hear them however, it's like so weird bc you're just playing two notes and Listening Really Hard to find those secret notes that you're not playing and you have to hear if THEY'RE in tune to know if the two notes you are actually on purpose playing are.

[sergioguymanproust]

Surrealism is in many ways more real than our present reality.Magritte was spot on ,we live in an illusory world where dreams are more real than this inconsistent and unpredictable reality.The way I personally see it is that our third eye is the key to realizing our true identity, more so than our two eyes connected to our brain that only seek to view reality with logic only not with our spirit.Just close your eyes ,shut your sight ,the so called called windows to the soul,and tell me what you see.Go past the smoky screen ,continue past the red blinds and suddenly your sight will be flooded with images that at first are so vivid but so hard to interpret. No worries ,just get used to them and in time you will be able to see things you couldn’t see with your physical eyes. If you are seeking for proof ,well ,just go to your dreams , again this what surrealists did back then ,shock your reality by painting a hammer as an example and saying to you this not a hammer but a pipe.They are basically wanting you to suspend your mind’s logic and let your intuition take the reigns of your reality.As a shaman the trip to the behind the scenes much like the movie Alice in Wonderland ,inviting you to go down the rabbit hole is exactly what surrealism is all about,an invitation into the place where dreams clash with reality and you are forced to take the trip .Do it now. Words by Sergio GuymanProust.

The False Mirror by René Magritte

[webism]

☆ bestfriend!satoru likes seeing you in his clothes a little too much.

it starts with lending you a jacket when you're out late and it gets cold. he laughs at you first, makes fun of the way you shiver, but then his eyes drift and he realises he can see your hardened nipples through your shirt and suddenly he's layering you up in his jacket just to keep his mind from short-circuiting.

but the sight of you in his jacket is no help either, not when you drown in it because he's so damn tall and he's reminded of the difference in size between the two of you and for the first (more like third) time he's wondering what you'd look like beneath him in a mean mating press. how you'd feel shaking under his body weight: like how you're shaking now, but pleasure wracking your body rather than the cold wind.

he tells himself it's fine to have these thoughts. you're his best friend, you spent every waking hour together: it's only natural that his thoughts would eventually drift southwards. he'll snap out of it, he just needs to jerk off and clear his mind.

so he walks you home, and lets you keep the jacket.

but that night, he's in the shower with hot water scalding his skin, eyes squeezed shut as he strokes his cock at an inhuman pace. fucks his fist with anything but you in mind—he thinks about all his past trysts, about whatever porn he's seen lately, about his fucking cursed technique.

and he thinks he has it, he's pumping his cock with crazed strokes in an attempt to cum and clear his mind, but just as that pleasure starts to break into white hot lust, all he sees is you. in nothing but his jacket, wrecked on his cock and begging him for more.

and when he cums, he sees your eyes pleading up at him from where you’d rest on your knees, ready to take his load into your mouth because you crave the taste. He swears he can feel your fingers splayed over his thighs… your tongue tracing the pronounced vein that runs up the underside of his cock… your heated presence in the shower alongside him.

satoru says your name as he cums, and realises he’s wholly fucked and not coming back from this.

so, naturally, gojo plays into it.

the next time you see him is at his place, you come around to spend time with him and talk about the mundane that always seems exciting when spoken in the lilt of your voice. he offers you a drink, pours you a glass of red and promptly spills it over your pretty top—purely accidental, of course.

and he only takes a moment to admire the way the soaked fabric clings to your skin before he’s bolting into action and offering you a shirt of his own.

“it’s like you’re trying to steal my wardrobe, huh? first my jacket… now my shirt… got something to admit to, hm? you like wearing my clothes?”

it’s playful banter, you think, and roll your eyes with a huff as he hands you a shirt that’s oversized even on him. he wants to see you drown in the fabric, covered in him through clothing until he can cover you in another aspect of himself.

you make him look away while you change, though you know it’s an effort wasted because he’s all-seeing or whatever. and when satoru finally gets a look at you in his shirt he knows it’s game over. it’s like he’s left a mark on you, staked him claim not through bite marks or hickies as he usually would, but through the fabric that adorns your skin. his clothes smell like him, look like him, and are being worn by you.

he’s beyond hard, his cock is tenting his pants and he’s almost offended you haven’t yet noticed, because there’s no hiding a boner when you’re his size. you’re sweet enough not to look, even steal a glance out of curiosity—but he isn’t; his eyes are roaming your skin in such a heated way you feel feverish. it’s how he notices the wine that has spilt on your skirt as well.

he could tell you—offer you a pair of his sweats and cum in his own pants as the way they’d hang off your hips—but he doesn’t. instead, your best friend satoru gojo, the man you know like scripture, drops to his knees and takes the hem of your skirt between his fingers.

“what are you doing?” you think he’s cruel for a joke like this, when he looks so good on his knees, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as if he’s aching for a taste of you. you squeeze your thighs together, groan at the thought of gojos relentless teasing if he realises you’re soaking wet right now. “this isn’t funny.”

“i’m not laughing,” he says, tone flat. “your skirt is stained.”

“oh,” it is, you can see the wine seeping into the fabric.

gojo laughs, his grin sinful. “what? you get all flustered when i’m on my knees? how lewd.”

“shut up,” you try and step backwards, put some space between him and your pulsing heat, but his hands come to grip your thighs, fingers cool as they brush under your skirt and press into your skin. “you’re an asshole, toru.”

“i know,” his fingers creep higher. “i’m sorry.”

“no you’re not.”

“i know,” he parrots. “but you will be.”

“wh—“

in one practiced movement, satoru rips your skirt down and exposes you to him. he has to bunch up the shirt of his you wear with one hand and keep you from running with the other, but he’s met with a beautiful sight as a reward for all his pining.

“for coming to my house with no fucking panties on and acting like you don’t want me to fuck you like we’re more than friends.”

you learnt quickly upon befriending satoru gojo that he always seems to get what he wants. this is no exception, because after he spends so long fucking you with his tongue that his knees go numb against the cold tile, he’s got you laid down on his couch, his t shirt bunched up over your waist just enough for him to watch his cock sink into you over and over and over again.

he loves the sight of you grabbing at the fabric to keep it out of the way— how you whine for him to just let you take it off, all for him to press his lips to yours and conjoin you so you couldn’t undress even if you tried.

how with each thrust of his ravaging cock into you, he’s whining like he’s not the one in control. babbling filth as if he’s not got you pinned and taking every last inch of him—he’s pussy drunk and overbearing in his excitement and slurring his words as he speaks against your open mouth.

“never allowed to wear your own clothes again,” he steals your breath with each gasp he gives between thrusts. “only mine. i’ll burn yours, fuck, i hate your clothes.”

“you…” gojos fast rutting stalls your sentence. “…you brought me that skirt.”

“yeah? well where is it now?”

you recall the lecture you tried to give him when he threw your wine-stained skirt into his trash bin. you’d protest his dictation of what you wear if you had the mind to do so—but his cock is hitting your g spot in tandem with the ministries of his fingers over your clit… you’re half-near brain dead with the way he splits you open and unravels you like the threading of his clothes he’s fucking you in.

you can’t count your orgasms, only feel them shoot static up your spine with each one gojo manages to pull from you. and when he cums, spills over your parted thighs to dress you further in the essence of him, you swear you hear him babble something about putting a ring on your finger some day, to dress you in something of his permanently.

but friends don’t talk like that.

they don’t fuck like this either, though.

[divinedomainn]

Stream and Scream | reader x multiple men

PROLOGUE ▷ || play next song? summary : You started an OnlyFans to pay rent. Then came Fuck-a-Fan Fridays, one lucky subscriber, one masked hookup, all caught on camera. It’s anonymous. It’s hot. It’s getting you more subscribers. All good right? 'Till it turns out the ones watching you are your classmates and professors.

contains : camgirl!reader x a whole ass roster, rotating cast, university AU, smut, porn with kinda a crack plot, casual sex, anonymous sex, exhibitionism, recording, oral sex, piv sex, rough kinky sex, everyone wants to fuck reader, reader is kinda... willfully ignorant

A/N : hii this is my first time writing something like this but im SUPER excited. let me know your thoughts who do you think should come first :))

Being broke wasn’t a personality trait, but sweet neptune, it was starting to feel like your entire identity. Third-year cursed techniques major at Jujutsu University? Check. Half-assing your degree with the enthusiasm of a soggy napkin? Also check. Part-time job that paid in existential dread and maybe $11 an hour? Triple check. You were one bounced rent payment away from selling a kidney, and honestly, that kidney was looking pretty damn optional.

So yeah, when the idea of starting an OnlyFans first crossed your brain—mid-scroll on TikTok, wine drunk on a shared bottle of cooking wine with your equally poor friends, and flopped on your shitty single bed—you didn’t laugh it off. You snorted, scoffed, and muttered something bitter, "Bet her rent’s paid," while watching some girl with lip fillers and a Gucci hoodie flaunt her brand-new car, courtesy of her tit pics. You sighed and stared at the water stain on your ceiling like it held the answers.

Then rent day came. Your bank account proudly displayed a majestic $7.24. Your landlord's emails had shifted from "gentle reminder :)" to "we will pursue legal action," and you had a full-blown spiral that ended with you Googling “how to fake your own death” before switching to “how to start an OnlyFans without your mom finding out.”

And somehow—somehow—you were fucking good at it.

Not just good. Thriving.

Turns out all you needed was a ten-dollar ring light, some bargain-bin lingerie that only looked expensive if you angled your body like a Tumblr-era contortionist, and perhaps the illusion that the people that were viewing your content weren't real. You didn’t even show your face. Just your body - though sometimes doing private videos for the right price, some sultry poses, a well-placed pout you’d perfected in the mirror while pretending to be some sort of pornstar bombshell, and boom—you were in business. Real business. Like, able to pay your rent in full and order takeout everyday no sweat.

It escalated fast. One day you’re nervously posting some artsy nudes, the next you’re getting tipped fifty bucks just for answering questions like, “What’s your favorite color (and can you say it while biting your lip)?” You were sitting in your crusty dorm room still, surrounded by your influx of takeout boxes and cursed technique textbooks you hadn’t opened in weeks, realizing you were somehow becoming a one-woman empire.

So naturally, the next step was chaos: livestreaming. You had heard that could bring in thousands in one night - and honestly? You were starting to build up at least a few hundred subscribers.

“Fuck it,” you said, setting up your laptop, adjusting your ring light, and channeling your inner seductress while fighting back a nervous breakdown, ensuring your mask covered your face fully and that your wig covered all your real hair. Your first camgirl stream was a whirlwind. You were shaking, sweating, probably looking one glitch away from buffering into another dimension with your cracked setup - but the chat?

Tips flying. Comments rolling. People calling you a goddess. Practically throwing money at you to get you to do stuff you had (ashamedly) done for free for other men. Another said they’d sell their soul for a moan.

That was the moment you knew.

You’d made it. Well, all things considered atleast.

Rent? Paid. Groceries? Not a single ramen pack in sight anymore, just takeout bags. Your mental health? Still dicey, but at least now you could afford therapy.

What you didn’t know, though, what no part of your clout filled brain could have prepared for - was that some of the top tippers in your chat? The ones dropping money and borderline-feral compliments like... SixEyesOnly: stretch like that and make that noise again and i think i miiiight just send you an extra 100. OfficeAfterHours: Tipped 50. Please buy yourself some food. And wear socks. It's cold out. (For some reason you followed what he said.) EmoWithaBoner: squeeze the toy harder. pretend its my fuckin neck. Yeah. You saw them every damn day. In class. At the cafeteria. In the fucking jujutsu training hall at college. In all honesty you perhaps weren't the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to connecting the dots. Really.

But that disaster? That story comes later. For now, you were just a broke, horny, slightly unhinged college student who had accidentally stumbled into a side hustle that was by all means paying more than anything you could possibly do with a degree.

And baby, business was booming.

[bizarrelovetriangel]

r e l a x.

they give you a massage (sylus, caleb, xavier) / you give them a massage (zayne and rafayel).

mdni. 18+ only. fingering. handjob. oral (male and female giving and receiving). dry humping. creampie. overstimulation.

sylus

You've had a busy week at work and your body has been terribly sore, so Sylus offered to give to a massage.

Instead of feeling relaxed like he said you would be, you're gripping the bedsheet and biting down the back of your own hand, completely flustered and tensed.

Sylus knows exactly what he's doing with his hands and yet, he refuses to admit to his crimes by playing clueless.

As if you can't see his smirk after accidentally brushing his hands against the sides of your breast for the third time in just five minutes.

"What's wrong, sweetie? Didn't I tell you to relax? Just close your eyes and trust me. I'll make you feel good."

You're cursing Sylus so hard in your head.

You're on his bed, lying on your stomach with absolutely no cover.

You've once gotten a massage from an actual professional massage therapist before, so you know removing your clothing is just protocol.

What's different from the massage you're getting right now are all the 'accidental' touches that your unofficial massager has been doing.

Sylus is hovering over your figure with his knees on the sides of your hips and planted on the mattress while his hands are kneading your figure.

On one hand, the oil that he's using smells wonderful, and his strong hands really does wonders when he's pressing down and pulling at your tensed muscles the right way.

On the other hand, he's teasing you so much that you can't even feel at peace.

It started off with brief, almost unnoticable brushes on the sides of your breasts as his hands roam around your torso, feeling up your sore spots.

It wasn't until his hands began to linger a little too long on your ass that you grew suspicious of his actions.

You gave him the benefit of the doubt and kept quiet, closing your eyes and burying your face against the soft pillow. You thought, maybe, you can just fall asleep while he gives you a massage, even if he has to keep himself entertained along the way.

But you learned quickly that you will certainly not be able to fall asleep for as long as Sylus' hands are on you.

As he's stroking the back of your thighs, his hands traveled up to your ass once again, and this time his thumbs had gotten lost to graze the folds of your vagina.

Your head shot up in shock.

Sylus pretends not to notice.

He starts to hum a song while his hands slide down to your aching calves, giving them a good squeeze that had you wincing.

Only then did Sylus give you a look. "Something wrong, sweetie?"

"You...."

"Hmm?"

"You know what you're doing." You narrowed your eyes at him accusingly.

He tilted his head. "I'm not a professional, but of course I know what i'm doing. You have nothing to worry about."

You scoffed and put your face back down on the pillow. It looks like you're just going to have to deal with all the antics. You'll get your revenge later on.

Or so you thought.

The little not-so-accidental touches soon became more obvious and unbearable.

After several more minutes of Sylus' game of mixing in actual good massage techniques with lecherous caresses, he stopped trying to be subtle.

His fingers now had their undivided attention on your core and making their way inside you. Your hips reflexively raised as the wave of tingling sensation took over, and Slyus gently pushed them back down against the mattress.

"You're tensing up, sweetie."

There was that smirk again.

"And whose fault is that?!"

"Yours, obviously. You wouldn't need a massage if you didn't overwork yourself."

You hate that he's right even when he's trying to deflect your accusations. "Hmph."

After giving him a playful smack on the chest, you rested the side of your face against the pillow and closed your eyes.

Not a second later, his fingers are moving deeply in and out of your pussy, now wet with oil and from your arousal.

Your breath hitched at his fast pace, gripping the sheets of the bed with while listening to the lewd sounds of his sticky fingers going inside your oil-covered slit.

Your right arm reached behind you to capture his hand. You wanted to make him pause for a moment just to give yourself a moment to breathe before you burst right then and there.

He was quick to figure out your intention, so Sylus got your wrist first and pinned it on your back, just with one hand.

The bed shook slightly as he lowered his hips onto you. His placed his other hand on the mattress, right by the side of your chest to support his weight so that he's not crushing you.

His cock is pressed up right against your ass.

You were so distracted by his fingers that you failed to notice when he had pulled down his pants and boxers. Now, he's throbbing and rubbing his pre-cum on your skin.

Sylus took a moment to wipe a drop of sweat on your forehead before kissing it.

"This...isn't a massage, Sylus."

"I told you, didn't I? I'll make you feel good."

He slowly went into you.

And almost immediately, you clenched up at how good he felt. Sylus took a sharp breath before lowering his chest on your back and wrapping his left arm around your neck.

Not tight enough to choke you, but just so he could keep your face against him as he starts to move faster and harder.

All the oil he put all over your body during the massage had now been spread onto him too as every inch of him connected to you.

The air around you becomes heavy. His low groans and your muffled moans mingle with the sound of your bodies roughly colliding repeatedly.

He didn't stop for a second. Not until he was out of breath. Not until you came first. Only then did Sylus allow himself to come, right on your ass and back.

"Sylus...."

Out of breath, you flipped over as Sylus looks down at you while running a hand through his sweaty hair.

"You better not be giving anyone else a massage like the one you just gave me."

He chuckled. "Of course not, kitten. That special service is reserved only for you."

"Good." You winced as you felt your hips twinge. "Because you kinda suck. I'm now more sore than before the massage - hey, can you at least try not to look so proud?!"

zayne

It's not unusual for Zayne to be overworked, given his highly demanding job. That's why you often find yourself pampering him on his days off. This time, you decided to give him a massage so that you could help to relieve his tensed muscles.

You're not a professional, but you have learned from Zayne himself how to properly give a decent massage, as he had given you one a couple of times before. He was describing to you what he was doing and explaining what it does to your joints and muscles, so you can at least do the basics.

Right now, he's lying down on the white couch of his living room, stripped down to his boxers and facing the ceiling. You're by his side, kneeling down on the floor and sitting on the back of your feet so that you're in the same level and can easily move around.

His glasses are off and his eyes are closed, enjoying the way your hands are pressing his biceps while listening to you ramble about what you've been up to at work.

"Oh! and I just remembered something annoying that happened the other day!"

As you broke into a rant, you failed to notice that your hands had increased their strength as they moved around Zayne's lower abdomen.

Your fingers squeezed his abs, though your mind was mostly focused on giving Zayne the full details of a particular problem you had at work.

You didn't catch the way Zayne's heart skipped a beat, and the way his breath started to become uneven as your hands moved on to his thighs.

You were so distracted with your own thoughts that your ears didn't pick up the quiet groans coming out of Zayne's mouth as you rub down his quads.

His legs twitched as your fingers darted to the inside of his thighs, and he let out a cough when your fingers brushed against his bulge behind his boxers.

And yet, you still haven't caught on.

Zayne started to sweat nervously as he tries to keep his thoughts and his body tamed: to stop blood from rushing south.

But it's already too late.

He's already hard and throbbing.

Especially when you're patting him down all around the one place that's begging for your attention.

"Darling..."

"- and then I was like - huh?"

You snapped back to reality when one of Zayne's hand caught your right one.

"...here..."

Your gaze shifted from his red ears, to his adam's apple that bobbed as he gulped, and down to where he placed your hand, which was right on the big tent that formed in his boxers.

At last, you understood what he wanted and immediately granted his wish.

You tugged on the band of his boxers and pulled it down to his calves, and Zayne fully discarded it by moving his own feet and kicking it off him.

You wrapped one hand around his cock and rubbed your thumb against its tip, spreading the pre-cum that oozed out of it.

His stomach tightens up as your fist moved up and down, and low grunts emerged from his lips as you picked up your pace.

The sight of his flushed, swollen cock had your mouth and your core soaked with hunger.

You squeezed your thighs together as you placed your weight on your knees, then you moved your face towards his hips and ran your tongue from the tip to the base of his cock.

Zayne took a sharp breath once your mouth swallowed him down. He ran a hand across his chest, feeling his own heart racing as he watched your head bob up and down, with some strands of your hair falling out of place.

He closed his eyes as you moved faster. His hips jolted up reflexively, making you take even more of him. He forced himself to hold back on thrusting into your mouth, but you were the one that pulled him even farther down your throat while your hands took care of the rest that you couldn't reach.

Your name falls out of his lips before ropes of cum suddenly shoots into your mouth, spilling out from your lips.

Zayne's moans did nothing to your clenching cunt as you watch his cock continuously twitch, even after his release.

Though you didn't have to wait for long because without even giving himself time to recover from his orgasm, Zayne sat up and pulled you onto his lap.

His mouth desperately meets yours while his hands are already working on undressing you. "...need you..." he mutters between kisses.

You complied and helped him get rid of your underwear, then you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Still, you paused for a moment to ask, "Aren't you sore though? I don't want you to feel even more tired. I'll - "

"I'm fine." Zayne cuts you off with certainty in his tone and desire in his eyes. "I just want to feel you."

As a silent response, you kissed his lips and locked your thights around his hips. Zayne adjusted himself before his cock penetrates you completely.

You wanted to spare him from moving, since, despite of his reassurance, his muscles really are overworked. You swayed your hips against him, but it seems that Zayne couldn't stay still either because he continued to push his cock into you.

He buried his face against your neck and his mouth sucks off your skin while his hands grips your ass hard. His heavy breaths stutter as both of your strengths increase, causing your flesh to clash at every second.

You re-adjusted your steady grip on his shoulders before taking control by grinding down his cock hard and fast.

Zayne catches one of your breasts into his mouth and lightly bites your nipple, earning a loud gasp out of you. Your pussy clenched around his cock, and the noise you made had echoed from his own mouth.

"C-coming...!"

You reached your climax around the same time. Zayne didn't have time nor power to pull out and your hips felt stuck against his, so all of his load was shot inside of you.

Zayne softly pressed his lips on your left shoulder before resting his forehead against it as he catch his breath.

You combed your fingers through his hair before attempting to get off of him. Zayne, however, kept you trapped against him with his hands remaining on your ass, pressing you down on him.

"Let's just stay like this.... for a little longer...."

caleb

The very second he arrived at your apartment and saw your overall worn out appearance, Caleb declared himself as your butler for the weekend. Not only did he do all the cooking and cleaning, he also decided that you needed a massage.

So here you are, lying face down on your bed, only wearing your underwear, with Caleb hovering over you with his knees on the side of your hips, running his hands throughout your body to fix your aching muscles.

He's actually doing an amazing job. Only a few minutes after he started and you're already feeling your body loosening up.

"Have you ever given anyone else a massage before?" you asked curiously, lifting your face from your pillow for a moment.

"Nope." Caleb grins. "You're my very first customer, pip-squeak. Don't forget to rate me at the end of my service, okay?"

"Mhmm."

You assume he just did his research very well, as always. Since you're in good hands, you decided to give in to the warmth and comfort he's providing and closed your eyes for a little nap.

Little did you know...

Caleb couldn't be more glad you're not looking at him right now.

He's having a big problem and it's demanding to be freed and inserted into something. Into someone.

He truly did have the full intention of giving you the best massage you'll ever have. He noticed that your body isn't in good condition because of your work, and the least he could do is make you feel relaxed with a massage.

The good news is that it seems to be working well, and you're even starting to fall asleep, which means your body is relaxing.

The bad news is that he underestimated his self-control. He had taken showers with you without popping a boner, and yet....

The sight of you lying so beautifully underneath him only in your red bra and panty had gotten his mind wandering along with his hands.

Every time he massaged the insides of your thighs, his eyes automatically flickers to your crotch as he gets a glimpse of your pussy behind your underwear.

He wanted, so badly, to bury his face between your thighs and have a taste of you. But even more, he wanted your body to feel relaxed. He didn't want to disturb you right now, so Caleb suppressed his desires.

It's not the first time, anyways. Before you were aware of his feelings, before you became an official couple, he always had to hide his sexual urges from you.

So, this is nothing. That's what Caleb repeatedly told himself as he continues to give you a massage.

Still....

It's okay to adjust himself once every while, right? His boxers and pants are getting uncomfortably tight, after all. He just needs to adjust it for a second.

Caleb stuck a hand in pants to get rid of the discomfort.

Then, he pumped his cock a few times.

'Fuck...'

He lets out a shaky breath before withdrawing his hand and resting it on the small of your back. His own actions only made things worse because now, he's throbbing uncontrollably and his thighs are pulsing. His hands are sweating, his stomach is clenching, and his face is burning.

He forced himself to keep going with the massage, but he was only torturing himself. The more he touched you, the more he wanted you.

"Hmm? Caleb, are you done?" you asked as his hands no longer made contact with your body.

"I..." Caleb's incomplete response came out low and deep.

Suddenly, his chest fell against your back and his lips grazed your right ear. His heavy breaths tickled you before his lips softly met your skin.

"I need you."

He rutted his crotch against your ass and your eyes widen at the feeling of his stiff cock through his pants.

He growled under his breath before moving faster, causing your body to bounce against the mattress of your bed.

"Caleb..."

You raised your hips to meet his, and his hands quickly latches to your waist before humping you even harder.

You slowly turned around and put your hands on the back of his neck, then you kissed him deeply and pulled him down with you.

Caleb moans into the kiss while his hands quickly removed his pants and boxers. You pulled away for a moment to help him undress, then your bodies re-attached like magnets soon after.

He wasted no time putting his cock inside you, spreading your thighs farther apart so he could pound as much of him into you as far as possible.

Your bed creaked and shook at every moment he made. The air around you feels hot, and you found yourself gasping loudly and clutching onto his back as he picks up the pace.

You cried softly against his neck as you came, and your toes curled as he relentlessly chased after his own high, drilling into you while clasping your hands. Soon, his hips stutters and he pulls out right before shooting his load right across your chest.

After using his shirt to wipe your chest, Caleb collided beside you, catching his breath as he stares at the ceiling.

You propped on your elbow and faced him sideways with a grin on your face.

"Hey, Caleb." Your fingers toyed with the pendant of his necklace. "You wanted me to rate your service, right? I'd give it a 4.5 out of 5."

He lets out a laugh, catching your hand and kissing your fingers. "What was the 0.5 deduction for?"

"...need another round..."

"Oh?" Caleb raised a brow, unable to hold back a smirk at your flustered expression. "Weeeell then, please allow me to compensate."

rafayel

Rafayel accepted your offer to give him a massage, especially since his back and shoulders have been tensed after painting for days with very little to no rest.

You had been away for work so you couldn't scold him properly to take breaks, and now you want to make up for your absence by helping him relax.

Not even five minutes after you started, Rafayel wondered if he had made a bad decision.

Today, for some reason, he's extra sensitive and not just emotionally, but physically, too.

Earlier, you breathed too close to his neck and he got chills, and not out of fear. You put your hand on his chest for thirty seconds and his heart wanted to jump out of his body. You slid your fingers down to his stomach, and blood rushed below his hips.

Rafayel shifted nervously on his bed. He's only wearing a single towel wrapped around his hips, and he's facing down against the mattress so that you could have easy access to his back and shoulders.

As you heavily but carefully drew circles on his upper back, Rafayel groaned against his pillow. You took that as a positive sign that he's feeling good from your massage, so you continued.

You pressed down to his lower back and giggled at the way he twitched.

"I didn't know you're ticklish here, Raf."

"...I'm not..."

Your thumbs moved in circular patterns just above his hips, slightly nudging the towel covering him. He lets out another sigh of relief, so you exerted more pressure down to his muscles.

Your eyes darted to his face for a moment and you wondered why his ears have turner red. Was it because of the massage?

"Rafayel, am I doing okay? If you want me to stop, just tell me - "

"No, don't stop!" he replied a little too quickly. "I mean.... keep going. You're doing great, cutie!"

"If you say so. Just making sure I'm not hurting you, that's all."

"Not at all!"

Rafayel stiffens as your hands returned to his back, as that's where he told you is the most painful part of his body is.

However, he needed your hands somewhere else.

Rafayel took a deep breath before turning around to face the ceiling. He's doing his best to breathe calmly, but his thoughts are making it impossible.

"What's wrong? did I - "

Rafayel grabbed one of your hands and guided it to his chest and let it travel down to his stomach, then right below his hips. His cock was standing tall through his towel, aching for your touch.

"It hurts here, too. Will you help me?"

You silently agreed with a nod, unable to take your eyes off his reddening cock, feeling as if you're in a trance.

Wrapping your hands around his shaft tightly, you slowly began to stroke him. A shaky, quiet moan comes out of Rafayel's lips.

Just a brief touch and he already feels like he's going to burst. He's unable to stop himself from fucking your hand, legs spread out and fingers grasping the bed sheets.

Rafayel cursed under bis breath as he came faster than he'd liked. He had come right on your hand and some had gotten to your face.

You licked the cum that got lost to your lips and Rafayel's face flushed at such a lewd image. He pulled you into the bed and embraced you sideways to cover your neck with passionate kisses

While he distracted you by leaving hickies below your jaw, his hands got rid of your shorts. You gasped as his fingers made contact with the crotch of your panty.

You grinded your ass against his hips to encourage him to continue, and so Rafayel moved your underwear aside and put his cock in you, at the same time his fingers massaged your clit.

His name comes out of your mouth as your body curls up with pleasure, allowing him to fuck you at a better angle.

"So good..." he pants against your ear, struggling to move at a slow pace.

He wanted to take his precious time to feel you, yet he also wanted to go fast just like what his throbbing cock in desperate need for release wants him to do.

In the end, he managed to keep things slow and sensual, appreciating every inch of you without a rush.

You rolled your hips back against him to meet him half-way, coating his cock with your slick as you struggle to contain your own desire for him.

Rafayel whines from behind you as you feel him picking up speed. "C-coming..." He tightened his hold on your hips before losing all his control and hammering into you, causing you to match the loud moans that he was letting out.

He quickly pulls out and rubs his cock against your legs before painting your skin with strings of his cum.

After coming not a minute after him, you turned around to face him. You brought a hand to his hair and brushed some sweaty strands away from his face, then you kissed his nose.

"So this is what happens when you get a massage."

"...only from you." he pouts. "Now, I feel even more tired. I'll have to stay in bed all day tomorrow. You'll stay with me, right, cutie?"

"Hmmm... nope."

"Why?! Is it because you don't love me?"

You flicked his forehead with your fingers. "Someone has to stop Thomas from barging in the room to see my lazy, exhausted fishie slacking off."

"Ah." He smiles and hugs you tightly, nuzzling his face against yours. "my hero."

xavier

It's not that you're ticklish.

There's just something about the way Xavier is kneading your body that makes it difficult for you to suppress amused giggles.

It might have something to do with his soft touches that doesn't help much with your sore muscles, although it does make bring you lots of warmth, comfort and joy.

That's why you allowed Xavier to give you a massage. He insisted that he gives you one after reading online that it'll help with tensed joints and muscles, so he watched some tutorial videos beforehand.

Now, you're on your couch, lying down facing the ceiling. According to Xavier, the less clothes, the more effective the massage will be. So, you decided to strip down completely but put a small towel over your breasts and crotch.

You're not even really sure why you bothered to cover up, considering Xavier has seen you naked more than enough times to feel shy.

In fact, when he saw you with the towels, he looked a little confused, though he never asked about it. He only told you to lie down and get comfortable.

After following his instructions, Xavier's first step was to give a few drops of oil on your stomach. It's slightly warm on your skin, and its scent was something similar to the fragrances that you frequently use.

He gave your tummy a few rubs, and you couldn't help but smile at how careful and gentle he was being.

When it was time for him to take care of your sore spots, you bit the inside of your cheek to stop your laughter.

You did feel some pressure, which felt nice. It just didn't last for long, as Xavier didn't exert the right amount of force.

It's not that he doesn't have enough strength - of course, he does; he is a strong hunter, after all. More likely, he's unsure of how much pressure to apply, at what angle, and for how long.

While it's not the best massage you'll ever get, he's still making you feel happy and relaxed in his own way. That's all that matters.

"You're not hurt, are you?" Xavier asked as he pressed on your hamstrings.

"Nope. I'm okay! Keep going, Xavier! You're doing great!"

"Okay!"

The way his face lit up had you melting and wanting to cuddle him. He's just too precious for his own good.

"...."

Ten minutes later, your eyes snapped wide open as you felt something....different, touch your thighs.

"What was that...?"

You looked at your legs and caught Xavier red-handed, pressing his lips on your inner right thigh.

"It's fine." He smiles at you. "It's part of the massage."

"...is it?"

"Mhmm. Just relax. It'll make your body feel better."

He resumed on applying pressure with his hands on your legs, so you brought your head back down on your pillow and closed your eyes for a little nap.

A minute later, you felt another kiss on your other thigh. You decided not to question him and let him do whatever he wanted.

But after the third kiss, which was slightly higher than the previous two, your muscles tensed up. Particularly, your pussy clenched as his lips lingered dangerously close to your core.

He does it a few more times, and the moans he's muffling against your skin absolutely didn't help your case: it only made you wet. And with Xavier being so close, he might notice.

He's over here, sacrificing his time and energy to help you feel relaxed, and yet you're getting turned on.

No, no, no. You'll have to control yourself. At least, wait until after he's done.

"Ngggnnhh,,,"

Oh god, he's doing it again.

This time, his kisses are even louder and higher. His hands are holding up your thighs so he can make space for himself.

You didn't even notice until now that Xavier no longer stood by the side of the couch, but he's now on it, too. He's right between your legs.

While you're looking down, Xavier met your gaze and your held your breath for a second. You know that look. It's the same one he often gives you in the bedroom during intimate activities.

"Xavier...."

"...I'm adding my own special techniques in the massage."

He scooted closer to your hips and lowered his face to give your thighs more kisses.

"This might be more effective."

Your face burned as you felt his tongue slide against your sensitive skin. You were unable to look away from Xavier's intense gaze directly on you.

"It feels good, right?"

You failed to come up with a coherent response as the towel that poorly covered your crotch had been dropped on the floor.

"I know you're still sore, so just stay like that." Xavier lowered himself so his chest is not too far from touching the couch. He's propped on his elbows and peeking at you between your legs. "I'll help you relax."

With that, Xavier's mouth rams into your cunt. His tongue feels your folds while his hands clings onto your thighs, spreading them wider.

You arched your back and hissed at his actions. One of your hands reached to down Xavier's face, but he caught it with his left and intertwined his fingers with yours, letting it drop to your side.

He gave you no time to calm down; his lips and tongue worked fast on making you fall apart just within a few minutes, but only because he had other things in mind.

Xavier pulled down his pants and boxers and brushed his cock against your pussy, not a minute after your orgasm. You were still sensitive, so when his tip traced around your folds, you were unable to keep your volume quiet and your insides felt like exploding.

"Xavier!"

He put the back of your legs over his shoulders, giving himself more space before grinding dick right between your folds. His breathing quietly picked up at the feeling of your core that's soaked just for him.

His eyes darted over to your face for a moment to flash you a smile.

And as much as you love Xavier, you were cursing him in your head.

How could he smile like you like that, as if he's not teasing and torturing you and calling it a 'massage'?

You can't even hate him because every cell in your body craves for him in every way possible. Anytime he smiles at you, you're on your knees for him - sometimes, literally.

"Ah!"

You were pulled out of your trance as soon as Xavier put himself inside fully you in one hard thrust.

His face flushes and his eyes are fixed on your breasts, watching them move along with the rest of your body as he repeatedly snaps his hips against yours.

The couch budges and the wooden floor creaks at Xavier's heavy plunges. The grunts leaving his parted lips joins your cries of pleasure and the sounds that your bodies are making as they collide.

Xavier is too far from your reach and there was nothing for you to hold onto, so you ended up running your hands down to your chest and squeezing your breasts as you gasp for air.

He let out a low growl under his breath as he watched your movements. He fucked you even faster at the same time he lowered his face down to your chest.

He captured your hands and pinned them by your sides before his mouth sucks in your left breast, with his tongue circling around your nipple.

He then switched to do the same on your right breast, though his teeth slightly nipped you as he felt his hips tingling.

Xavier made sure to push his cock in the deepest part of you before cumming. His voice echoes throughout your living room as he released every drop inside you while still his rolling his hips, slower and slower until his stamina is drained.

Your release quickly followed after his cock was pulled out. Xavier rested his body on top of yours, with his face on your chest, listening to your racing heart.

While you breathe heavily, your index finger traced the shell of his left bright red ear. His skin is slightly glowing with white light, too, as his evol sometimes acts up during or after he has an orgasm.

You'll never not be in awe of him.

"Hey, Xavier. Are you feeling tired?"

"Mhmm..."

He's sleepy now.

"Do you...want a massage?"

He opened one eye to catch your teasing grin "....if it's like the one I gave you...yes, please..."

"By the way, what kind of massage tutorial videos did you watch? They're kinda not that effect- "

"Don't worry about it."

[theladysunami]

I adore all the AUs where Shen Yuan is a shixiong or about Binghe’s age but you know what the fandom is missing? Shidi Shen Yuan!

There are some stories where Shen Yuan is younger and Shen Jiu’s son, but I’m talking about a regular disciple Shen Yuan admitted to Qing Jing peak after Luo Binghe.

I just need tiny child Shen Yuan using the full force of his spite to feud with the strategist Peak Lord… only to actually win most of the time!

How could Shen Yuan possibly win against a paranoid sect strategist you might ask?

First, he could take full advantage of Shen Qingqiu’s complete disinterest in him, and his own disinterest in impressing Shen Qingqiu, to run rampant for quite a while before Shen Qingqiu catches on. He would seem to be just some stupid precocious child.

Second, I firmly believe Shen Yuan’s wifebeam, when directed at adults, could be an effective parentbeam. He could use all the little tidbits he has memorized about the other peak lords, the Qing Jing hall masters, the servants, and his fellow disciples, along with his genuine kindness and helpfulness (and a lack of Shen Qingqiu sabotage…at least to start with) to endear himself to a great many of them!

Third, he has the advantage of an adult’s brain in his child body, along with all sorts of knowledge nobody would reasonably suspect a child his age to have. Just because Shen Yuan has a giant blind spot regarding romantic intent and his importance to others, doesn’t mean he isn’t incredibly clever in many other ways, and fully capable of using the full force of that cleverness on Binghe’s behalf!

Fourth, Shen Qingqiu would have literally no clue what the kid was actually after. All that work just to make the life of Shen Qingqiu’s least favorite student a little bit better? Shen Qingqiu would never see it coming, and what is that if not the greatest weakness of all?

I just really want Shen Qingqiu, the man who starts feuds with children —including trying to murder one particular kid— to find out that his arch enemy is actually some other kid that he completely ignored. And the kid is winning via the secret tactics of “being nice” and “having no real ulterior motives (beyond the ‘being nice’ thing)”.

Also, Luo Binghe being protective of his little shidi who is somehow constantly getting himself in situations™. (It’s not Shen Yuan’s fault distraction is often his best ‘stop bullying Binghe’ technique).

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Ok ok now flip the wrong husband idea. Intimidating/grumpy resident who’s close to and clearly Jack abbotts fav resident, the med students think they might be secretly together only for her to actually be Robby’s gf/wife 👀

Wrong Attending

Pairing: Dr Michael "Robby" Robinivich x Attending!Reader

She was terrifying. That’s what the med students whispered behind clipboards and in the corners of the nurse’s station.

Dr. (Y/N), third-year resident. Surgical precision in her tone, her incisions, and her sarcasm. Always serious, always focused, always somehow two steps ahead of the attending she was assisting. If she barked an order, you followed it. If she gave you a look, you apologized before even figuring out what you’d done.

Jack Abbott adored her.

He never said it, but it was obvious. She was his golden resident. She scrubbed in with him more than anyone else. He taught her the most complex techniques with the kind of softness he didn’t extend to anyone else. He even brought her coffee when she had a long case ahead — Jack Abbott bringing someone else coffee. It was enough to start rumors.

“She’s totally his girlfriend,” one of the med students said as they wheeled a post-op patient back to recovery.

“Girlfriend?” another scoffed. “Try wife. You think anyone else could get away with back-talking him like that and not get reamed for it?”

She passed by just then, sleeves rolled up, surgical cap still on. She gave them all a pointed look as she walked through.

The students fell silent. Guilty. Terrified.

Later that day, the ER flooded.

A pile-up on the interstate. They needed hands. All hands. She was already pulling on gloves before anyone called her name.

She was hunched over a trauma bay, blood on her scrubs, one hand in a chest cavity when—

“Hey,” a voice said behind her. Lighter. Familiar. “Jesus. You didn’t answer my texts. You okay?”

She glanced up, annoyed. “I’m working, Robby.”

Dr. Robby. The senior attending. Golden boy of the ER. Charismatic. Bright-eyed. Sunshine in scrubs. Or maybe that's just how she saw him.

He blinked. “You’re elbow-deep in a thoracotomy and I’m the one getting attitude?”

She didn’t answer. Just turned back to the trauma.

The med students, standing nearby and wide-eyed, watched in confusion.

Dr. Robby stayed there, leaning against the glass, watching her with something oddly fond in his expression.

She finally stepped back after the patient stabilized, ripping her gloves off and walking to the sink.

Robby handed her a towel.

“Can I help you?” she asked flatly, drying off.

“Just wanted to see if you were alive. I made you dinner.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me.”

“You’re lucky I do.”

One of the students behind them dropped their chart.

Robby turned, startled, and blinked at the frozen group of baby doctors staring at them.

“…What?”

One of them finally managed: “Wait. You’re dating Dr. Robby?”

She raised a brow. “You say that like it’s a crime.”

Robby looked smug. “Jealous?”

“No,” one of them muttered. “Just… we all thought it was Abbott.”

Robby paused, then laughed so hard he doubled over.

She sighed, shoved him with the towel, and muttered, “I need a nap.”

“Or,” Robby grinned, falling into step beside her, “you could come home, shower, and let your very loving, very charming boyfriend feed you tortellini.”

“…What kind of tortellini?”

He smirked. “The homemade kind. You’ve been on my mind all day.”

The students watched them go, stunned into silence.

One turned to the others. “That’s gotta be the biggest plot twist in this hospital.”

The others nodded slowly.

Jack Abbott walked by a moment later, glancing toward the hallway they disappeared into, then at the med students. “What’s with the faces?”

One said weakly, “Sir, did you know she’s dating Dr. Robby?”

Abbott blinked. Then snorted. “Of course I know.”

“…You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“We thought she was yours.”

Jack gave them a look so dry it could sand furniture. “I have a wife, you morons.”

Then he walked off, chuckling to himself.

[sukunas-wife]

Baby Yuji who clings and cries to you when your helpers try to take him away because someone with such a high reputation to hold shouldn’t be seen with a babe latched onto their breast

His little cries that make your heart ache outside his nursery door. Barging in and picking up your baby boo and cooing at him as he instantly stops crying his little fish taking a death tight grip to your shirt asking for you never let him go.

Baby Yuji who gets mushed instantly as your enter your private chambers because Sukuna was ready for a second child only to be stopped when he heard his sons muffled cries against his own bare chest.

Sukuna who sighs carrying his baby boy using his reverse cursed technique to heal him of any squish damage. Cradling him against his chest in he massive arms. Squeezing his yawning sons cheeks between his hand just for his son to take a tight hold on his finger. The way Sukuna laughs proudly at how his son was so strong for someone so small

The smug look when you try to take Yuji away from Sukuna only for Yuji to cry and cling to his daddy

Your little pout as Baby Yuji sleeps on his daddy’s chest secured by his arms and you held against your husbands side with his free arm

Toddler Yuji who’s first word isn’t mama or papa but “koo… kooo kooOUuna…” you look confused turning to your husband with a raised brow “whose Kouna?” “It’s KUNA woman! As in SuKUNA,” he crossed his arms against his chest smug smirk, “We can see who the preferred is.” You puffed your cheeks “Ryomen Sukuna i have half a never to- Koona!” You turned to your son picking him up “little traitor”

Toddler Yuji who no matter where he is, he’s not afraid to walk, he knows his mom and dad will be right there to catch him and pick him up to try again

The time Yuji was across the massive palace room, you were watching him sit and play. Sukuna was lounged out in front of the sunny window after a bath trying to relax. Never had he felt the instinct that forced him up and over, catching his son just before he toppled over into the floor. His speed was scary and accurate turning to you as you were just behind him.

Little Yuji who yells in delight when you throw him up in the air to catch him again kissing his cheeks, is the same Yuji who screams when his dad hurls him into the air only to fall back against his dad clinging for life against his dads rumbling chest. He dad laughing out loud before Yuji is screaming “again again!”

The heart attacks you’ve had watching these things happen just for Uraume to assure nothing bad will fall upon the heir

The cute moments when you and Sukuna take Yuji’s small chubby hands while walking and picking him up and swinging him every third step. His little smile and laughs as he looks up at both of you, your smile as you look at Sukuna, that rare soft smile and look in his eyes that remind you why you fell for him. Proving he’s not the cruel tyrant others have him to be.

Sukuna who threatens the best artist in the village to create an oil painting of you, your husband and Yuji with every birthday that passes because even though he won’t express how much he enjoys these moments, he’s afraid of time slipping through his fingers

[classyrbf]

SWEET LOVIN'! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

thinking about intimate sex with husband!toji, who’s so loving towards you, whispering praises in your ear, kissing you so tenderly. One look at the man and you’d think he goes at it hard and rough, treating you like a toy, and in some cases that may be true, but not most of the time. No, not your Toji. You always come first in his eyes, learning every technique in the book, learning you like the back of his hand so he knows all the ways to make you cum with ease. He’ll hold you tightly, rocking his hips slow and deep, hitting that sweet spot that makes you cry out into his neck. “I got you, mama, I know,” he reassures. Not to mention, he loves holding hands during sex, especially when eating your pussy. He’ll stare into your eyes while your moaning out his name and he’ll just intertwine his fingers with yours, holding your hand tightly like he never wants to let go. He’ll kiss down your spine, down your torso, he’ll take his time with you because he’s in no rush, he wants to enjoy this moment, savor you. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers as you’re cumming around him for the third time. And when he does get a little feral, hips moving faster because he loves the way the you feel around him, he’ll apologize between kisses, reaching down to rub your clit or play with your tits, cause he doesn’t want to think he’s just using his baby, no, not ever. He constantly say, “I love you.” And you can tell he means it when you hear that break in his voice, that desperation. After he cums in you, the aftercare is everything. He’ll cuddle with you, caress your skin and pepper your face in his kisses until you’re both giggling. “Are you okay? Need anything?” He asks. “I’m kinda hungry now,” you respond. Toji orders food for the both of you, and while waiting for it to arrive, you both hop in the shower together. He has you wrapped in his arms, chin resting atop of your head as the water hits you both. Toji may look like an intimidating, mean and dominant guy, but all of that fades away with you, his most prized possession.

[sossolei]

things that have helped me shift ⊹₊⟡⋆

DISCLAIMER, Just because I have shifted before doesn’t mean I am the Library of Alexandria. I’m a person just like you, learning as I go so I don’t have the answer to everything but I do try! I’m also not saying any of this will absolutely, 100% make you shift, but hopefully it can provide some perspective or insight into something you hadn’t thought about! !!! ANTIS DNI !!!

LANGUAGE — I’ve noticed since I first got into shifting that shifters will talk about/treat these realities like fanfiction or a role playing kinda thing??? It confused me before I had shifted because if this is real then why are people talking about themselves in the third person, or referring to others as “npc/non main characters”, or scripting in some crazy trauma for “fun”??? If you read anything of mine, you will notice I do not use words like “main character” or even “desired reality” because for me personally, it’s just reinforcing in my mind that this is not something that’s real or even close to something I can achieve.

Cut out third person language entirely. Stop referring to your “failed shifting attempts” as such, in fact, stop referencing it AT ALL. Stop keeping track. Stop referring to people in these realities as “main characters” or “npcs.” Stop coming back from an attempt thinking “damn I didn’t shift.”

INSTEAD, start saying that you shifted every time you attempt. “But I woke up in my O.R” who says? only you have a say in whatever reality you want to live in. Fake it til you make it. Start talking about people as they are, people. Use their names or nicknames. Watch a TikTok and think to yourself “yeah I’d send this to them.” FEEELLLLL IT. MAKE IT REAL TO YOUUUU.

LOGIC — After successfully shifting, I don’t tend to think about the “science” or “spiritual” side anymore BUT this is the logic that makes the most sense to me and is the simplest explanation I can think of. When you wake up in the morning, do you first check your phone or stand up to brush your teeth or stretch? Whatever path you choose is a shift in your reality. Every single choice you’ve ever made is a shift in your reality. As far as you know, if you checked your phone instead of stretching, you might pull something later on in the day that you wouldn’t have pulled had you stretched. But you didn’t. And now there’s a reality where you stretched, did the exact things, and didn’t pull a muscle because you stretched that morning.

THAT is reality shifting in its simplest form.

Manifesting can even be considered reality shifting because you’re shifting your current consciousness into one that is receiving said manifestion. The universe is infinite. Do not let the constrictions of others constrain you too.

“Yeah you can shift realities but not to those fantasy places like hogwarts, that’s not possible” why not? If you’ve just admitted can shift realities, why are “fantasy” realities so different to you? Because HERE in THIS reality, they are fantasy. In that reality, it is everyday, it is normal, it’s just another Tuesday. Shifting is simply becoming aware of your consciousness in another reality, similar to switching characters in video game like The Sims 4, from one plumbob to another and yes, that easy.

MEDITATION — You don’t need anything to shift realistically, but the one thing I recommend for anything is meditating. It’s a skill and, like any other, one that can be refined and perfected over time. Learning to get into a state of pure consciousness is a practice that existed for centuries, anybody can do it and doing it will only ever benefit you. You can meditate when you wake up, before you fall asleep, when you’re sitting up, WHENEVER! I’ve always felt better after a meditation, shifting related or not. It also helps me feel better when I don’t end up shifting because at least I’ve honed in and practiced that meditation technique, yk? Positives in everything!

OTHER PRACTICES — If nothing else, I recommend trying different spiritual practices and adding a lil sprinkle of shifting in there! This applies to religion as well in case that isn’t clear lol. If you don’t follow any specific spiritual practice, try pegan spell work (with protection and research ofc), research any herbs that aid in things like enhancing spiritual energy. If you pray to a God, you can “work” with your God in a sense to aid you in this personal journey, whether that be through journaling or actual prayer, prayer is an amazing manifestion technique and I do believe it can help with reality shifting considering it’s not against any religions. And if you don’t want to do any of this, come up with something for you and you only! A ritual can be anything you make it. You decide what works for you at the end of the day.

REMOVAL — This helped me the most in my opinion, I completely stepped away from online communities doing anything with reality shifting ( specifically shifttok ) and followed my own intuition of how to go about shifting, doing shadow work to figure out any blockages/questions I had, and just overall made shifting fun again for myself! The main thing I did was learn more about manifesting because the manifestion community does NOT play, they do not believe in limitations and they love LOA(ssumption) which is my fav so!

LUCID DREAMING — Not the actual act of lucid dreaming but learning about lucid dreaming and astral projection really makes you understand that anti shifters are so ignorant to what these things actually are it’s insane! People didn’t even believe that you could control your dreams 10-20 years ago, they genuinely thought dreams were just something that happens to you. Nowadays, we obviously know that you can control your dreams but this is just proof that nobody knows what they’re talking about fr. I guarantee you, a few years from now, people are gonna be talking about reality shifting the same way they talk about lucid dreaming, CASUALLY. Reality shifting is not some big thing of grandeur that only “special” people can do, the same way everyone can lucid dream, is the same way everyone can reality shift, and astral project.

All this is to say, stop fucking listening to other people LMAOOO. That’s gonna be my advice every single time because too much of anything will become a problem. Advice is good when you’re starting out and I don’t mind giving advice on that, but nobody knows you better than you know yourself, even if you don’t think you know what to do, I PROMISE you on everything, you know what’s best for you. You know what works, and you know what doesn’t, YOU KNOW. Believe yourself. Nobody else matters.

“you are the light. it’s not on you, it’s in you. don’t you ever in your motherfucking

life dim your light for nobody.”

[obsesssedblerd]

MORE SUKUNA WITH HIS LITTLE DAUGHTER PLS PLS PLSSSSS I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE ❤️❤️

Picky Eater

Sukuna takes a small breath to calm himself, then picks up the small bowl full of fresh baby food. What is it that you usually say? Third time’s a charm? 

He uses the plastic spoon to stir it a few times, then scoops some up to present to his daughter, who was sitting in her high chair in the kitchen. “Here. Eat.” 

The baby looks at the spoon full of yellow mush with her red eyes, then faces him and whines in disapproval. Sukuna groans in frustration. “You are not making sense, brat. You cry because you are hungry, but you do not eat. You did not want the green food, the red food, or this yellow food. What is it that you want?” 

Her little face scrunches up, and Sukuna knows it’s because she’s about to wail. When the first cry builds in her throat, he reaches forward to grab her from her high chair, putting her against his chest and gently patting her back like he’s watched you do countless times. “No, none of that. Crying will not get us anywhere. Besides, your mother is resting. Waking her up is simply not an option.” 

The doors to the kitchen open, and he sees Uraume there, holding a bowl of purple-colored baby food. “I apologize, Lord Sukuna. I left the other maids in charge of preparing food for the little princess, and they did not follow directions.”

The tiny girl in his arms coos excitedly upon seeing Uraume, and their eyes soften as they reach a hand out, allowing the baby to wrap her entire hand around a single finger. “She prefers when her food has blueberries mixed in it,” Uraume explains. “Lady [Y/N] and I discovered this two weeks ago.”

Without a word, Sukuna sets his daughter back in her high chair, then offers a spoonful of the new food to her. To his relief, she eats it. He exhales, then thanks Uraume as they exit. “So it seems that you are extremely picky,” he says to her as he continues to feed her, some of the spoonfuls far more messier than others. “That is not surprising. I also eat only what Uraume prepares.”

The doors open again, but this time, it’s you; yawning as you walk in, all refreshed from your nap. You analyze the scene in front of you, then snicker as you grab a wet napkin. “There’s food all over her face.” 

Sukuna sees that his daughter’s face is practically covered in messy purple blotches, then shrugs as he looks over at you. “She ate most of it, though. She—” He stops when he hears faint splashing, then turns his head to see the baby playing in the remainder of the food, making quite a mess all over her clothes, the high chair, and even a bit of Sukuna's face. 

“You brat,” Sukuna grabs the napkin from you, and begins to wipe her mouth and hands as you start laughing. “That is food, not paint for you to throw around the room.” Hearing you laugh, the baby joins in. Sukuna rolls his eyes, and you step in, grabbing your daughter from her chair. 

“Okay,” you say in-between laughs. “It was time for her to have a bath anyway.” Your eyes land on the multiple bowls of untouched baby food, then you look back at Sukuna, who was using a damp towel to get any of the purple mush off of his face. “I can tell you’ve been at this for a while. I should’ve told you that she’s picky.” 

“Picky and very spoiled,” Sukuna comments with a grunt.

“Mhm.” You hum. Your daughter giggles, and you kiss the only part of her face that’s not messy as you ask him, “And who is the one who decides to spoil her?” 

“Spoiling her is not my original decision. The little brat has inherited your technique.” 

You raise your brow in confusion. “I don’t have a technique, Ryo.” 

The princess is distracted by the bracelet you’re wearing, because she babbles excitedly as she reaches for your wrist. You smile while watching her, and unbeknownst to you, Sukuna is watching you both. Similar smiles, he notes for the millionth time since you gave birth to your and his daughter. Whether it was you or her, both smiles had the same effect: weakening his heart and getting him to do whatever you wanted. 

“You do,” he says simply. And it’s powerful, he doesn’t add.

[callsign-datura]

a/n: sorry for the long wait! 4.7k words, the result of my last poll, simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected p-in-v, creampie, hair-pulling, degradation, talking to the pussy

ghost didn't have many hobbies, but he did have a few he liked the most. His third favorite was being at the shooting range, his second favorite was cleaning his guns, and his first favorite was sparring.

he often sparred to ensure he wasn't getting rusty with certain hand-to-hand techniques. usually with soap, or gaz. late at night when he had energy to expel, or unwanted emotions to get out.

that's why he found himself in the gym, this time off the mat, wrapping his busted knuckles with bandages. he was dressed in gray sweats, a black wife-beater, and the mask. he flexed his fingers as he tucked the edge of the bandage beneath the edge of another at his wrist, bringing both arms above his head. he stretched, grunting quietly before letting his arms drop to his sides, squinting at the way the fluorescent lights made his head ache.

the door creaked open slowly. he tilted his head, watching you enter. you looked up and met his gaze, and he turned his head away and began wrapping his other hand with the same bandages.

you and ghost were cordial at the very least and hostile at the most. it wasn't that you got along-- sometimes his demeanor just pissed you off. so closed off, and for what? working with another person was better than working alone, to you, and you didn't understand why in the hell he was so rude to you.

you huffed under your breath, not expecting him to be in the gym so late. you watched his shoulders flex, the wife-beater a darker shade around his neck with the sweat that dampened it. he looked like he'd been hard at work for a few hours, the bandages around his knuckles tainted with a deep shade of red.

"what's the point of wrapping your hands after you've busted them on the bag?" you call, watching his shoulders shift a bit as he stops wrapping.

"i forgot to do it before." he retorts, not bothering to face you.

"didn't nurse sullivan tell you to do it before?" you put your hands on your hips. your tone is concerned, and partially, you are, but the other part of you is just looking to get on his nerves. you came here to train yourself, but messing with him seemed a bit more fun. "thought you'd remember what a nurse told you to do."

"didn't ask ya to remind me what sullivan said, i know what m'doin'." he finishes wrapping his other hand and goes back to the bag, getting into position and bringing his fists up. he starts throwing punches, the jangle of the chain and the thuds of his fists hitting the bag echoing in the room.

you approach him. "you know, sparring might be better than boxing." you offer, folding your arms behind your back as your gaze flickers over his stature. he's by no means a small man, and it's been a while since you've had the chance to spar with the other guys on base.

ghost's hands shoot out to still the bag, and his head tilts to the left. brown eyes peer at you from beneath the mask, and he huffs through his nose, looking you up and down. "tch. y'got a death wish? i've got a few inches on ya... not to mention pounds."

"i know you do. it'd be good training for me." you hum, looking to the side, then back to him. "for you too, maybe. having an agile opponent might be a bit challenging for someone so... lumbering."

"lumbering?" he asks, tilting his head as he turns to you completely. "and you... agile? got an ego, don't ya?" though he's excited at the prospect of sparring at all, so he's considering it.

you can tell you're piquing his interest, so you push it, ignoring the little jabs. "maybe a small one. sounds fun though, doesn't it? I heard it's been a while since you've got the chance."

he sighs. he feigns resignation, but there's a sparkle in his eye that you don't miss. he considers it for a few moments before he starts skulking in your direction. "you're gonna regret that," he huffs, stopping just short from you. "i've got some rules. one, you lose after i've pinned ya for 10 seconds. two, no dirty shots. i don't pull y'r hair, you don't kick me in the nuts. got it?"

he sounds so serious, you chuckle. "alright," you nod, agreeing to his terms. then you take your position on the furthest end of the mat while he takes position at the other end.

"ya ready?" he gruffs, and you nod, putting your fists up.

"alright then, you get the first shot."

"really?" you tilt your head, taking a few steps forward as you begin circling in the center of the mat.

"mm-hmm." he hums, rubbing his arms before putting his fists up. "wanna see what you can do."

you huff, then you go towards him, side-stepping and reaching out to grab his arm. you yanked on it, and he barely moved. he almost paused, somewhat amused that you even tried that. you let go and move away from him and he follows-- throwing a few punches without expecting them to land.

they don't. one disadvantage of him being so much bigger than you is the speed difference. you're so much faster than him. you can dodge faster, but if he finally gets his hands on you, you're done.

you're moving around the mat, dodging his punches and dodging it when he reaches for you, and he's growing increasingly frustrated.

"godammit, quit fuckin' moving." he hisses, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you in. he lets go to grab you by the shoulders, but before he can, you duck and use most of your strength to kick his shins, trying to debilitate him so you can get away. it doesn't work. you scramble away and he follows, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and pulling you close. he turns around to throw you off before shoving you to the ground and pinning you there by your shoulders, his body coming down on yours as his knees cage you in on either side of your hips.

you're squirming, hips lifting and hands clawing at his wrists in an effort to get him to let you go. his eyes narrow, getting some sort of satisfaction at seeing you squirm beneath him.

"one," he begins counting, signaling to you that you only have a few seconds to get away. his grip on you tightens, and you're almost sure he's gonna win when you get an idea. your grip tightens on his wrist before you drag your hand up it, digging your nails into the surface of his skin. you apply enough pressure to cut the skin, and his grip releases at the same time he hisses. he doesn't let go, but you take the opportunity to throw his hands off of you and turn around in his hold, tucking your legs in against yourself and pushing the bottoms of your feet against him to throw him off. then you scramble out from beneath him, getting up and putting distance between the both of you.

"hmm," he says, eyes focusing on you before he gets to his feet. "slippery fuckin' thing." he laughs, looking at the arm you cut up. crimson dribbles from the thin red lines you've left behind, and he rolls his head, cracking his neck as he goes towards you again.

there's something different in his eyes-- he's surprised that you're putting up such a fight.

"never expected a little thing like you to fight so dirty." he says, his voice low and husky as he stops a few feet away from him, intense eyes following you as you circle him. it's obvious to him you have no intention of making the first move again, so he opts to play with you a bit instead.

"y'r crafty too, huh?" he says, his voice mocking somewhat. "didn't expect you to claw me up like that. i mean, it worked..." he turns as you do, and your eyes narrow.

"i'm enjoyin' this one, that's for sure. maybe i should make sure that you're gonna keep comin' back?" he says, his voice husky again. there's a tone in it. it's almost like he's taunting you, or-- no, that isn't it...

"it's a shame they won't scar, though." he takes another step towards you, and you look behind you to gauge how much space you have until you step off the mat. you stay where you are.

"i like having trophies from my fights... reminds me how much i enjoyed it." he keeps rambling, and you're not sure what the point of all this is. it makes you feel fuzzy inside, kind of, like he's complimenting you.

he gets closer, and his eyes narrow further. you know he's smirking beneath the mask. you look meek-- is he flirting with you? is your lieutenant flirting with you? is simon "ghost" riley flirting with you??? he throws a few lazy punches, knowing you'll dodge them.

"not at all. it's a compliment, actually. small, nimble. i bet you rarely get into any sticky situations, huh? like a rabbit," he chuckles, his voice amused as he lets go, then shoves your shoulders hard enough to make you stumble. then, to make you lose your footing, he kicks your feet out from under you.

"ain't very often i get to fight people like you, after all." he hums, not even sounding like he's taking it seriously. you're visibly nervous, and you hold your fists up defensively. he leans forward, grabbing your arm and pulling you close. the rational part of you is laughing at your idiocy, but the other part of you is melting because-- he is flirting.

"ugh-- people like me? is that an insult?" you say, your chest close to his as he leans down. his face is inches from yours, and you can feel his breath against you.

you yelp, and you fall on your ass. the sudden tone shift is enough to send you spiraling. the way he talks to you makes something heat in your stomach. he gets on top of you again, one of his legs between yours and the other on the outside of you. he puts his hands on the mat between your arms, and he stays leaned over you.

"well... not really fighting back now, are you? that's a shame..." he huffs, his gaze drifting from your face down... your chest is heaving, and your eyes are shut. your hips shift, and he moves his leg up at the same time. the curve of his thigh bumps against your clothed cunt, and it makes you jolt.

"hey!" you hiss, not expecting the contact or the look in his eyes when you finally look at him.

"what?"

"i... i thought you said no dirty shots," you retort, your voice somewhat weak. you look away, your body flooding with some sort of warmth that his closeness produced in you.

he snorts, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. "ain't a dirty shot if you're already on the ground and you've already lost. it's just... overkill." but he stays over you, despite the fact he just won. his gaze rakes over you in a hungry manner, and you can hear him suck in a breath when your back arches up off the ground.

"...you can get off me now," you murmur, avoiding eye contact. you feel shy, all of a sudden, and kind of pissed. he just won because he was toying with you on purpose to win. he was messing with your feelings! "get off me." you hiss, trying to get out from under him.

his eyebrows go up, sensing your sudden hostility. his eyes narrow. he lifts a hand and pins your shoulder down. "ah ah ah, the fuck are you doing? did i say you could get up?" he was enjoying this before, but now that you're fighting back like this he's a bit irritated.

your squirming just results in you unintentionally grinding yourself against his thigh. you suck in a breath when it happens, and your eyes narrow.

"you're such an asshole" you grumble. despite your arguing and your resistance, you press yourself against his leg.

he looks down when your hips shift. he watches the way they move, and when you finally relax, he moves above you and intentionally moves his leg to see your reaction.

your face flushes, and you whimper, looking away.

"well... look at that." he murmurs, his voice lilted and knowing. he looks up at you and makes eye contact, pushing it against you again to elicit another noise from you. you moan once again and your lips curl, eyebrows knitting in response to the jolt of pleasure he causes.

"isn't that cute?" he teases. "does that feel good?" he says, his voice almost mocking as he lifts his thigh and presses it against you, gently pushing it against you in an even motion to make you squirm even more.

"g-god, you're such an ass," you moan, body falling limp and losing whatever ounce of fight you had. you still mouth off. "do you do this with everyone you spar with? i-is that why soap is always asking you to spar with him?"

he rolls his eyes. "shut up, girl. i'm surprised you have the audacity t' speak to me that way when you're gettin' off on my fuckin' thigh." his voice is almost scolding, but he doesn't grind his leg against you any harder. just goes slow... it's almost torturous. you can already feel yourself drenching your panties. it's a culmination of this entire thing. the way he smells, how close he is to you, the way he's staring at you so hungrily... all of it is making you salivate, except your mouth isn't the only thing drooling.

your head falls back, and your breathing is already so heavy. he tilts his head forward, and his lips are on your neck. you feel the wetness of his lips, the itching brush of peach fuzz, the fabric of his mask rolled up over his nose against your neck-- all of it makes you shudder beneath him. he nips at the flesh of your neck, pulling gently and kissing at the reddened flesh afterward. he puts his leg down, and places himself between your legs, one hand cupping the back of your thigh and lifting it to press himself against you. you feel the outline of his dick through his sweats, semi-hard but at attention. the girth of it catches your attention, and when he feels your body stiffen he chuckles.

"hush. we'll make sure it fits, doll." he murmurs, his voice husky and low, sending shudders through you with how close he is to you. he doesn't grind into you from that position. rather, his hands travel up and down your sides as he kisses your neck, sucking small hickeys and trailing them down. his hands shove your shirt up and over your chest, doing the same with your bra. he's intense, and very aware of what he wants-

you.

his eyes focus on your tits. round, perky and the perfect size for him to hold. so he slides one hand up to cup and fondle your tit, his thumb quickly traveling over your nipple. it pebbles and perks beneath his touch and against the cool air, and he hums. he salivates. he wants to taste your skin. drag his tongue over your flesh, feel the goosebumps that raise beneath his tongue. but he can't. he has to make sure you come back for more and that's exactly how he will.

and as always, he'll get what he wants, one way or another. you squirm beneath him, and noises attempt to claw out of your throat but you keep quiet. you don't want to let on how much you're enjoying this, but the subtle rock of your hips gives it away.

"tsk tsk tsk. are you really this impatient? haven't even done anything yet." he snickers, pulling back to look down at you. he pulls his mask back down before you can see anything, and he leans forward with his hips a bit. your legs still hover against his hips, your knees drawing together as a result of your embarrassment. your lips part and you pant, chest heaving once again.

his other hand slips down to your hip, lifting your legs up and together, over his shoulder so he can pull your pants and panties up your thighs.

"such a pretty girl. you know, i've had my eyes on you for a bit..." he starts. once your pants are around your thighs and he has enough access to you, he brings the hand that was on your boob, to your mouth. he eases his pointer and middle finger into it and your eyebrows knit at the taste of sweat. "suck," he instructs. you do, cheeks hollowing briefly as your tongue laves along his fingers, coating them in spit.

"hmm... always wondered whether or not you were the obedient type, but i never got a chance to break you in and find out." he chuckles, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth and bringing that hand between your legs. he drags the tips of his fingers through your folds, humming when he feels how wet you are. you can hear how sloppy it is, and he laughs.

"i guess i wouldn't be breaking you in as much as her," he snickers. your face reddens and you look to the side, panting once again as he starts easing those two fingers into your sopping cunt. you comprehend then that the her was your pussy.

"mm-hm, tight, as i thought. are you that nervous?" he teases, tilting his head as he scissors those two fingers inside you. the feeling knocks the air from your lungs, and you gasp, bringing both hands to your face to hide how embarrassed you are. despite that, your body gives away how excited you are, your hips shifting and your back arching as his thick fingers curl inside you.

if you're moaning, your pussy is screaming. the wet noises of his fingers working you out is embarrassing and brings heat to your face, but you can't really focus on that.

it sounds so lewd, and it is. you let out a gasp as he pushes them deeper, the sheer girth of his fingers causing your gummy walls to strain. your thighs clench and your hands ball into fists. his other hand pulls your pants and panties off completely, humming as your legs fall apart.

"s'it that good, doll?" his voice is husky and low, teasing. he's getting off on your reaction to his touch. "c'mon, girl, look at me..." his fingers stop, and you whine, shifting to look at him. they start moving as soon as your eyes fix on his, and your lips part. you moan again, your lips curling.

"c'mon, talk to me." he encourages, and his touch is downright sinful in comparison to his tone. "does it feel good? this what you wanted when you started grinding yourself on my leg?" he chuckles to himself. "never woulda thought you were this kinda girl if i hadn't of seen it myself..."

his thumb moves, and flattens over your clit once he turned his wrist over. he rolls circles over it slowly, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on the outside of your thigh.

you squirm and whimper, and it takes everything in him not to just pounce on you. instead he opts to listen to your moans and the sound of his fingers inside you. he curls his fingers and inches them deeper until your body jolts, and he hums in approval at your reaction.

"s'that the spot...?" he asks, leaning forward as he curls his fingers against that spot again. you jump, the coil in your stomach growing ever tighter as you moan in affirmation. the pleasure is making your head feel light, your eyes fluttering shut again and your head falling back against the mat. you're squirming and shifting again, and you feel sweat on your neck and chest. you whimper a bit, the air feeling sticky and humid between you both. it's hard to tell whether that's just your body heat, or it's him.

and you whimper at him. you can feel your orgasm encroaching, and he can feel it too. your cunt squeezes around his fingers and he can feel you throbbing. your body tenses, and your orgasm is right there--

he removes his fingers. you slump down, tilting your head to the side and huffing in frustration when you feel so suddenly empty.

"...this proves that you're just... an asshole..." you grumble, bringing your legs together.

he's thick. slight upward curve, blushing tip and definitely not lacking in length.

there's silence on his end, and when you look at him, he's pulling his sweats and boxers down.

"can't be much of an asshole if m'gonna dick you down," he purrs. you don't look, but you feel his cock hit the side of your thigh once he takes it out. a hand wrapped around the base, he gives a few lazy pumps, smirking to himself beneath the mask when you lift up to look.

"hmm? s'this good enough for you? such a rude girl, calling me names," his voice is teasing. he shifts forward a bit and then lines himself up with you before he moves both hands to cup the back of your knees and lift them. he moves you just a bit closer. He shifts his hips, then without warning, pushing himself into you up to the hilt.

you gasp. he's big, and you wish he had told you he was going to do it so quickly, because you weren't expecting it. his size takes a bit for you to adjust to, the sting and the stretch causing you to squirm once again. he grips your hips to still you, and he hums. "shh... you can take it, can't you?" you continue to whimper, and he laughs. "so pathetic. s'it too big for you?" he mocks, leaning over you once again.

"so fuckin' messy. look at you, girl. maybe this-" he emphasizes that with another particularly hard thrust that causes his tip to attack your g-spot-- "is what you wanted all along. maybe you asked me to spar cause you wanted me to fuck the shit out of you," he huffs, his voice low and raspy and his movements aggressive. you can barely speak aside from squeaks and squeals, the feeling of his hips slamming into yours causing your vision to go white. you couldn't respond outside of gasps.

god. yes. yes, it was too big-- and it took you a while to adjust to it. he started moving once your hips started shifting into his. he tilted his head forward, tucking it into your neck and grunting quietly. you're still sensitive, so when your lips part in a moan, it all feels so intense. your back arches and your legs push apart, welcoming him. his thrusts are shallow, yet careful, (for now), and he grunts into your ear. you squeeze around him, and your head tilts back as you moan out, hands finding his shoulders and digging your nails into it. Your eyebrows knit and you whine.

"y'r pussy's noisier than you are. listen to her," he goes quiet and fucks into you harder just to emphasize the paps of his hips hitting the back of your thighs and the squelches of your pussy clenching around his cock. your slick dripped down your cunt, getting his sweats damp a bit with it-- he moved one hand up to pull your hair, tilting your head back so he could talk in your ear.

"fuck," he cursed, pulling your hair again and chuckling when you cried out. you were lost in the feeling. the feeling of him, the feeling of his cock and how roughly he fucked you.

"hah!" you mewled, your back arching up off the mat. you grabbed at his shoulders in utter desperation. your eyes crossed and you tilted your head to the side, your body jolting with each thrust he offered you- getting gradually rougher.

"y'sound so slutty, moaning for me like that... keep doin' it, pretty," he hummed, staying close as he rutted into you with a force that might as well have caused you to shriek. he let go of your leg, and both of them closed around his waist, ankles locking at his lower back.

"m'gonna cum," you whimpered, your voice soft and meek. he chuckled, and his movements got a bit more aggressive. he lifted himself up onto his hands, keeping them just over your shoulders and looking down to where your bodies met. his fat cock was pounding into you over and over, the squeezes of your pussy enough to make him moan a little bit himself. he looked up, meeting your gaze.

when he finally came, you were still on cloud nine, wailing and squirming beneath him when his hips slammed into yours and he spilled spurts of hot cum into your pussy. the sensation was almost enough to make you cum again-- especially when he ground his hips into yours, his tip grinding into your g-spot. plus his lovely groans were sending you straight to heaven. the noises he made were mostly groans as he fucked into you, making your entire body shudder from the feeling and the sensations flooding your body.

your eyes were glazed over. visibly lost in the pleasure and focused on nothing but your impending orgasm, he took that as encouragement. he took your legs again, sitting up and pulling them together but pushing them against your front. the angle allowed him to get impossibly deeper. each time he slammed into you, his tip hit your g-spot, applying enough pressure to graze the plug of your womb and create more tingling, burning pleasure.

"oh! oh, fuck--" you gasped, folding a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. your heart was pounding in your ears, and you swore you almost fainted when your orgasm finally fell over you. the feeling of the pressure releasing had you seeing stars, shaky crying moans leaving your mouth. your back arched and tears pricked the corners of your eyes. you were sure you'd be bruised on the inside by the next day.

"that's it baby," he hissed, his grip on your legs tightening. "atta girl..." he purred, his tone tense with his own incoming orgasm. he wanted to help you ride out yours first, so he did. his hips kept that brutal, hungry pace, slamming into your drooling pussy with a fervor he didn't even know he had. he wasn't much of a talker in the midst... you didn't notice that he'd gone quiet, though, too absorbed in the aftermath of your orgasm.

he groaned out, his eyebrows knitting beneath the mask as he tilted his head forward to watch himself pound you. "take it... that's it, fuck..." his tone was still encouraging, but it faded as his pace started to slow. your entire body was still ebbing with pleasure and tingling with the overstimulation of your orgasm, and you were almost struggling to come back to the earth. you were both still panting.

when he pulled out of you and tucked his cock away and fixed his sweats, he looked at you-- his tone was full of pride. "well... fuck... look at you, huh?" he tilted his head, sounding awfully smug. he retrieved your pants and panties and helped you get re-dressed.

"you know... that wasn't the kind of session i was expecting, but damn... i think that was the best i've had in a while." he stood up and helped you to your feet, patting your ass once or twice as he held you up while you regained your bearings.

"...whatever, ghost," you grumbled, still holding onto your stubbornness even after you'd been sent to heaven and brought back.

"you know where to find me. don't be afraid to come get some if you're in need," he hummed, "not like i'm in a position to deny ya."

[celestial-sphere-press]

Book Decoration: AKA All The Ways I Don't Use a Cricut

(this post is for people who don't want to buy an expensive cutting tool, or for those that do have an expensive cutting tool that would like to mix things up a little)

1. Print That Shit

If you're already printing your own textblocks, an easy step for titles is to print them. Above is a title printed onto an "obi" of decorative paper. I measured out where I wanted things on the finished book and laid it out in Affinity, then printed it on a full sheet & trimmed it down to wrap around the book. A more simple method is to print & glue on the label into a slight indent in the cover (to protect it). A third option is to do the spine in bookcloth, while you print on paper for the cover and then glue that paper onto the boards (this usually looks even better when it is a three-piece bradel bind).

2. Foil Quill / Heat Pens

The heat pen is one of my go-to tools, but it can be a bit touchy about materials. The most popular version is the We R Memory Keepers' Foil Quill (which is one of the most ergonomic), but other pens exist that can get you to a higher heat temp, finer lines, or more consistent foil. For example, I have a pen created by a local Japanese bookbinding studio that fares way better on leathers than the WRMK quill & with a finer tip, but it's hell to control. Best results in general are on paper or smooth bookcloth (starched linen, arrestox, colibri - even duo will work but its less solid). The fuzzier a bookcloth is, the less your foil quill wants to deal with it. This means the heat n bond method of making bookcloth does not play nice with a heat pen usually, but there are two solutions: 1) use this tutorial on paste + acrylic medium coated bookcloth instead that will get you a perfect surface for the heat pen, or 2) use the pen on paper & then glue onto the cloth. I did a video tutorial for both foil quill use and this type of homemade bookcloth for @renegadeguild Binderary in 2023.

You get the most consistent results by tracing through a printed template that is taped in place, as I do in the video above.

3. Paint That Shit

Acrylic paints will do you fine! The above is free-handed with a circle template, because I wanted that vibe. If you need straight lines that won't seep, lay them down with tape first & then paint over it first with a clear Acrylic medium, then your color. Same goes for stencils. Two more examples of painted bookcloth:

4. IT'S GOT LAYERS

By using layers of thinner boards, you can create interesting depths & contrasts on your cover. You can also make cutouts that peep through to the decorative paper behind. The most important part to this technique is the order in which each edge is wrapped. To get a good wrapped inside edge, you will split the turn in into tabs to get them to conform to a curve. You can also layer multiple colors of bookcloth without multiple layers of board, as seen below left, so long as you mind your cut edges for fraying.

5. Inlaid... anything

Mirrors! Marbled paper! I saw someone do a pretty metal bookmark once! The key is creating a little home for it to live in, which is pretty similar to the above layering method. On one layer you cut the shape, & glue that layer onto the bottom solid board before covering. You can do the top layer as an entire 1 mm board (like I did for the mirrors) or a sheet of cardstock, like I would use for inlaid paper.

6. Decorative Paper

Decorative paper is always helpful & adds to the paper hoard... & its effects can be layers with other techniques, as below. Marbles, chiyogami, momi, or prints & maps of all kinds can be great additions. Some papers may need a protective coating (such as wax or a sealer).

7. Stamps (with optional linocut)

While I've not used many more regular rubber stamps, I do know some who have, successfully! And I've used one once or twice with embossing powder (see photo 3 up, the gold anchor on the little pamphlet bind). What also works is to carve your own linocut or stamp, & then use block printing ink to ink it onto your fabric (as i did above). A bit time intensive, but it was nice how easily reproducible it was, and I liked the effect I got for this particular bind.

These methods are not exhaustive, just ones I've used, and there are of course many others. I haven't gone too into detail on any of these for the sake of length (& post photo limits) but feel free to ask about more specifics. Usually I'm using them in combination with other options.