#flipped on the saturation thing

[black-and-yellow]

go silly hahaha

[lavender-temult]

Hey psst I redrew the thing :3

[tonycries]

I-T G-I-R-L!

Synopsis. Making big, powerful boys break beg and follow your every whim? Easy!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, NÉEDY boys, making them whine, bondagé, creampíes, GOJO’S POWERS, chokíng Geto, use of “good boy”, cúmplay, spítting, making them CRY, MAJOR overstím, bégging (THEM), pússy-slappíng, oraI (fem receiving), face-ríding, matíng presses, dry húmping, overspill, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k (whew)

A/N. Woke up n’ decided I wanna bully them so here we are. Have a lovely day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - MR. AND MRS.

“P-please.”

“What was that?”

“Fuck you-”

It was low - begging - and for the first time, you have that syrupy sweet privilege of hearing Toji’s husky baritone break with such a whiny crack at the end. 

Smugly, you swipe an index right across where your puffy pussy was straddling his poor, overworked cock. Collecting the saturated mess along his furious length - still so swollen with the sheer volume he’d been gushing out tonight. All the way up, up, up to that messy puddle of seed glistening all over his flinching abs. “Then…I guess m’not letting you cum inside, Toji. Again.”

“No! No no no- oh.” Toji’s burst of pained moans are cut off when you shove your fingers between his bruised lips. Dewy, green eyes rolling to the back of his head with each suck and slurp at their milky white sheen. “Fuck- you little-” And despite how furious he sounds, you could feel the very tip of his fat head thicken, twitching a jagged pattern along your cervix. With a low growl, Toji narrows his gaze, biting down on your now-clean digits with his sharp canines, “I said- please, my girl.”

Just that simple plea has your boyfriend’s jaw clenching, teeth gritted so viciously at the way you’ve been oh-so-coyly denying him the one thing he’s wanted for what feels like hours now. 

“Louder.” your lips curl into a devilish grin, back arching in that perfect bow Toji loved so much. Only deepening the lingering rolls of your hips down his needy tip. “Didn’t hear ya.”

“F-fuck.” Toji’s throwing his head back, thick fingers coming down to splay out across your bent thighs. “Can you- please-” You could feel every minute flex of his muscled thighs when he efforts to buck your sloppy hips deeper - faster - down his fat cock. Only to be halted by ten mean fingernails of yours pinning him down by his curving pecs, “-please. Wan’ cum inside- let me cum inside goddammit, woman.”

Of course, you decide to tease him by slowing down your pace even more. Letting your sloppy pussy just stroll down every greedy inch of his dick. Trying to hold back your content giggle, “I dunno…”

And Toji thinks he could yell out in frustration, he thinks he could sob, “Fuck- I said please. Pretty please? What more do you fucking want?”

He sounded so devastated. And you swear you could spy wet, bulbous tears at the corners of his long lashes, the familiar scar along his lips wobbling with such precious need. 

“Hmm–” you’re letting out such a sultry drag of your voice, taking so much of your sweet sweet time that Toji thinks he’s about to lose his mind. About to just flip your bratty self over and shove his thoroughly teased cock into you until you forget about that looming threat of not letting him paint your insides white. Fuck, the things he does for you-

“Call me your wife.”

Shit - Toji’s darkened eyes widen at your little request, jaw hanging open in disbelief and-

“That’s it?” he laughs - laughs. Rumbling out of his broad chest in a hoarse rasp, and those two strong arms of his tug down your limp body to kiss teasingly at your jutted-out lips. Slipping his hot tongue between the seams, “S’all because my hah- baby wanted to be my- my pretty lil’ wife. Well-” Any and every retort is fucked out of your mind when Toji’s spearheading into your mushy g-spot with a harsh rut of his hips. “-what my wife wants, my wife gets.”

The bed is creaking with every riotous slam, smearing the velvety pool of cum even farther between your bodies. Sticking to you like a sloppy second skin, strings of lewd juices form and snap when his massive cock stretches your gummy walls until they gape. 

“Shit- shit shit shit, if I knew that was all you wanted-” you’re feeling the languid drag of Toji’s happy trail scratch your throbbing clit. “Please- I would’ve been fucking my wife for s-so long now. Silly girl, s’all I’ve ever wanted- would’ve begged, gotten on my knees-”

“Hngh! Fuck-” you’re squealing when you feel him drip with even more saturated precum to coat your snug channel. One calloused palm of his coming between the two of your slick bodies to smear across the mess from his sweet highs, deftly angling them so that the rounded tips of his fingers are stuffing your leaky pussy with sloppy globs of his seed every time you’re slamming down. 

“Now now–”  It’s all you can do to gulp in heaving breaths to make your tone sound warning, but even that sounds too breathless - and both of you know it. Babbling away, “-don’t get so cocky- might just- hah, change my mind, husband.”

And fuck. Oh fuck. 

Your poor cunt just throbs when in a split-second, Toji’s mouth slacks even further, wrenching out a guttural groan. 

And then your gushing walls are milking out every ribbon of velvety cum that splurges into your tight pussy. It’s so much - too much, painting your insides all white with his seed. Toji’s gasping at the feeling of it sloshing around your elastic walls in slow, clingy swivels coating the both of you. 

His breath hitches when he spies down at the obscenely white mess below, globs of his cum slobbering messily down your inner thigh. Fuck, he’s never - never - came before you. This was-

“This better be a proposal, y’know.” you hum in amusement. “Or it would be interesting that you came early just becaus-”

“The fuck else would it be?” Toji’s gruffing out, two warm hands gliding to grip onto the globes of your ass. Still irritated. Still embarrassed. 

Ignoring your titter, he rams your teasing hips down with a sharp smack! like he was branding all five fingers onto your skin. Plugging your ravaged entrance shut with his weepy dick to stop even more of that thick, gushing cum from trickling out. You mewl when you feel his swelteringly wet tip quirk at the very bottom of your spongy cervix in interest, “Now be quiet and let me fuck you properly as my wife.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Hands-on intervention…

“You really are trying to get us fired, huh, my love?” he’s murmuring gently, “What do you think you’re doing this late, hm?”

Now, Nanami knew he shouldn’t have taken on those extra documents, he knew he should’ve been back home by now. Wrapped up in you and your cute gossip about what happened in your department today.

But here he was, sitting at his empty office. With you - stubborn as you are - straddling him like such a slut on top of his heavily manspread, muscular thighs, his favorite late-night snack. His coworker. His wife. 

“I should hah- ask you the same thing, Ken.” you’re grinning, the sinfully tight satin of your skirt hiking up with each slow, teasing roll of your drooly cunt against his clothed erection. It’s so messy. Your syrupy saturated slick mixing in with Nanami’s steadily beading precum. “Didn’t we both agree to no more late nights?”

He’s heaving out a shaky sigh, running a warm hand up and down your arched spine, “I know, I know. I apologize.”

That frantically achy little pulse of your slick-glossed cunt on top of him told him that he wasn’t forgiven just yet. And Nanami gulps - loosening that yellow, speckled tie of his with the tight bobbing of his Adam’s apple. Rich tone shaky - shuddering, even, “How- how do you want me to make it up to you, darling?”

You’re batting your lashes at his expansive mahogany desk. “Well…”

Of course he should’ve seen where this was going - with your high-heel-clad feet swiveling high in the air, digging into his broad shoulders. Stitches in your poor skirt popping and tearing with each bullying thrust your husband’s planting on your ravaged in this tight mating press. 

“K-Ken—” you’re letting out such a sickly sweet moan when his fat, weepy tip collides with the very bullseye of your sensitive g-spot. Your fingers work deftly to reach into your skirt pocket - pulling out that familiar tiny hot-pink bullet vibrator.

“Walkin’ around with that during work?” Nanami gasps, barely tearing his eyes away from that heavenly sight of your swollen pussy entrance wrapped around his girthy shaft. “Such a dirty girl you-” 

“Oh s’not for me.” 

And fuck, Nanami can only watch - can only gape his clenched jaw open when your devious fingers dip the feverishly shaky vibrator down, down, down to kiss so delicately at his thick hilt. 

“Oh!” His towering body wracks with a shiver, full, heavy balls clenching so tightly. Hammering his rawly aching cock so thoroughly into you, hips pistoning forwards with the carnal need for more more more- “Wait- Fuck! M-my love?”

“Yes–?” you’re humming, low and sultry and oh Nanami already knows he’s gone. He can only pray he leaves with his sanity intact. 

Splaying out two large hands on the sides of your head, the documents on top rustle in sync with those saturatedly hypnotic squelches echoing from your ravishing cunt. “Is this- s’this oh, fuck- please.” Nanami screws his eyes shut when you’re holding down the device even harder onto his glistening shaft. “S’this- is it- because I broke our hah- promise?”

“Maybe.” you’re breathing out into his panting mouth. So enveloped by his weighty figure that it was almost difficult to work your little magic. “Maybe I just got tired of waitin’ around for you to finish overtime, Ken.”

“Please!”

Over and over. That tiny spark is enough to have him barrelling back into your dripping wetness with reckless abandon. 

He’s so utterly ruined - glasses sliding down his high nose-bridge, thighs quivering with sensitive need. And you could just feel every fresh wave of heated precum painting your cunt in a glossy new coat. “Fuck- tell me please. Please, darling, m’begging.”

“Promise me no more overtime.” You’re grinning, fingers still steady tracing his most sensitive spots. 

“P-promise…”

“N’ to always hurry home to me?”

“I promise! I promise- promise to always come home- to you- always. Please-” he’s startling you with a soft pad of his thumb rolling over your neglected clit. Such a low, broken keen leaving him at when you start drawing harsh, methodical circles on the sensitive spots along his length. “N-no more overtime. Please please please- feels too good- what do I do- what-”

Ah, success looked so pretty.

Nanami’s eyes were already so watery, stern lips trembling with little apologies about “never workin’ overtime again.” So uncharacteristically disheveled in a way that makes your mouth water.

“Shit-” you hiss when that pointed nub of the vibrator accidentally hits your widely stretched-out pussy. The velvety cling of your walls making him hiss furiously. Disrupting, fat tip nudging all those crevices along your snug channel. “Hah- don’t think I’d let you off so-”

Before you can react, he’s hiking a long leg up on the desk to angle his crashes with scary accuracy. Just colliding against your bulbous g-spot with no hesitation. Pushing, with the very edge of his weepy tip - far, so far that you could scream.

Over and over and over- So elastically stretching out your snug hole to your limits to take him in all his long, throbbing entirety. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck I know, I know.” He’s alternating between long, rough strokes to shove you further and further up the cool desk, and shallow lingering grinds to mold your pretty walls to the exact form of his swollen shaft. “I’ll do anything- anything, please just- cum.”

It only takes a few more calculated pistons of his hips, and a touchy, teasing smack! onto your weepy cunt before you’re crashing headfirst into your orgasm. Cumming all around his wildly twitching shaft, your velvety walls just mending all around the shape of his pretty cock. Your toes curl, back arching into such a bowing bend. And in the split-second your grip weakens, Nanami’s seizing that hot pink devil in your hand.

“F-fuck wait-” you squeal at at familiar bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt echoing across the filled-out walls of your cunt. Squeezing inside the tight fit where Nanami’s fat shaft was nestling, tremoring so deliciously against each and every one of your sweet spots. Stuffing you full. “What-”

“Don’t forget - you’re working overtime, too, my love.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - No need for air

“F-fuuuck, gorgeous.” Geto’s melodic moan makes your cunt throb, a fresh gush of your sweet sweet juices slobbering down to where he was slapping your puffed-up clit with his fat head. The angry divot of his tip smacking up once, twice onto the too-sensitive nub. 

“So fuckin’ wet f’me-” he whispers from behind, gliding a thumb across the glossy sheen trickling down from the corners of your slit. The sight of his glistening fingers makes him bare you with such a crazed, feral grin, feeding you inch by fucking in languid, bullying rams. “-almost makes me forget the hand around my throat.”

At this, your nails are digging in even deeper around the pale, long column of his throat. Leaving neat, red indents that stand out. And you swear you could spy his leering grin grow even wider at that sinful sting. 

“What about it, Sugu?” you’re grinning over your shoulder. Gasping for air at how relentlessly he was trying to squeeze his fat shaft through that tight, glossy ring of muscle. 

Each drag of his throbbing shaft has your fingers tightening more around his throat. Making Geto feel so woozy and lightheaded with each little grind into the glistening channel past your puffy folds. “Heh, really like fuck- it rough like this, huh?” A low groan drags at the back of his throat when you start pushing your limp hips back in a jerky little cadence to try and meet his. “Shit- shit shit shit s’too good. You’re suckin’ me up so tight s’almost hard to fuck into ya. Almost makes me wanna-”

“Cum inside?” 

This earns you a punishing smack! on your bulging cunt, cool metallic rings of his burning into your skin. So sopping wet and struggling to expand your gummy walls around his expanding girth. Drawing out a dark chuckle from the depths of his chest, “Real funny, gorgeous. You and I both hah- know s’jus’ your hngh! cockdrunk mind talking.”

“Nooo—” you’re tugging him in a desperate, vice-like grip to crash your lips against his. Whining against his lips, “S’not. Really really want you to cum inside, Sugu. F’me - please? Like a good boy?” 

It was a little slip of your tongue - really - and you didn’t expect anything more than another teasing slap to your cunt, maybe even a joke at your expense.

But what you didn’t expect was for the sloppy cadence of Geto’s hips to falter just a bit. You’re turning your head just in time to catch that glassy, far-away look in his eyes, jaw slacking open to let out a shocked gasp. You hear a sharp pop! from his toned hips before they’re surging forwards to barrel your poor cunt with every weighty inch of his girth. 

Over- and over and over- One large hand of his is catching around yours to squeeze - warningly. Letting out a strangled, “G-gorgeous…”

Oh? 

Brows quirking, you’re batting your lashes so syrupy slow, “Are you gonna be my good boy, Sugu? Make me a momma?”

Another lewd push and pull, having you bouncing back on Geto’s sharp hipbones with such loud smacks! of skin-on-skin. Ringing into the humid, heady air and wracking his body with almost-painful shivers. 

“F-fuck–” He’s struggling to find the words - to even think with his melty mess of a mind. Such a delicate blush burns at Geto’s scowling cheeks when you’re facing him with a surprised grin - one he hides by latching his lips onto the crook of your neck, hiding away the smile threatening at his plump lips. “God- you’re gonna be the death of me. Don’t you fuckin-”

Your firm grip grows even firmer, resolving to him choking in large, breathy exhales. “Good boy.” Craning your arm around deftly to cup his pretty cheek. “You’re gonna do what I say, right?”

Shit, he was a goner.

It has the same effect, and once again, your big bad boyfriend is reduced back into a whiny mess. He’s planting two strong legs on the drenched silken sheets to fully fuck his bullying cock all the way into the back of your plushy pussy. 

Usually sharp tongue so heavy and slurring. Babbling out little pleas into the rhymically jiggling valley of your breasts - “Ohhh yes- yes yes yes please let me- wanna- m’your good boy, right? Let me cum inside, hngh shit! Wan’ you to take it- ah- a-all, make you a momma.” 

He lets out wet, feverish pants when you drag him close enough to moan that dangerous little word into his mouth. “Please? Please let me?” Geto nuzzles his cheek into your soft palm, heady movements so slow. Syrupy - like he was moving through molasses. And it’s like he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing when he’s popping one of your fingers into his mouth. Delicate pink lips looking so pretty - depraved - wrapped around your ring finger. “Wanna knock you up- hah marry you.” His eyes roll to the back of his head, “Put a ring on this finger- n’ a baby in ya pretty pussy.”

Meeting that increasingly ruthless cadence by fucking back to memorize each thumping ridge, each prominent vein along his girthy shaft. Twitching. Angry. He’s nodding - nodding so feverishly - tears crinkling glisteningly at the corners of his lids. “Please- please call me that again. Let me make you a momma, please.”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his sentence, because it only takes a few more solid, thorough swallows of his rummaging cock before he’s speechless. So fucking pussydrunk he can’t piece together anything but your name followed by a slurred-out string of profanities. Close. Too close. 

Staring into Geto’s heavy, half-lidded gaze, you whisper such a saccharine sweet, “Then, cum inside f’me like a good boy, Sugu.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Crybaby.”

It’s by the second orgasm that Choso feels a bit jittery, thighs quivering uncontrollably, chest heaving up and down in pained, ragged little gasps. 

It’s by the fourth that Choso feels nervous, he trusts you - of course, he does, you’re his sweet girl after all - and yet he can’t help that churning heat in his pulse. Heavy balls squeezing weakly with each glide of your soft palm down his red, achingly stimulated length. 

It’s only by the fifth that Choso is sobbing, big fat tears trailing down to his glossy lips. Such a rosy red and bitten in worry, hips fucking up in jagged, mindless little grinds. Oh, it takes everything in Choso to not cling on desperately to your feverish hand right now - dwarfed by his sheer girth, so glossy with a thick sheen of precum - yet still dragging up and down relentlessly. Treating him like some toy. 

“Baby–” your beloved boyfriend’s wet gasp catches in his throat when you swivel a curious thumb underneath his sensitive slit. Letting a fresh gush of his saturated precum glisten down to your wrist. “Baby baby baby- please. P-please, I don’t think I can- ngh- give y’anymore.”

“I think you can.” your leveled hum cuts through his frantic pleas. “Don’t you think? After all, you were so happy getting off to my panties like this, weren’t you? Ruining them?”

It’s like the very memory of his shameful act has Choso fucking his jerky hips up into your soft touch, arching his muscled back into a beautiful curve on your soaked bedsheets. Oh, how embarrassed he felt - how shameful, being caught in the very act by you, fingers deep in your panty drawer. 

Despite his very obvious need, he’s shaking his barely-lucid head. Damp, dark tresses sticking to his sweat-glossed forehead, curtaining those glassy eyes. Slurring out, “Fuck! Please m’sorry m’sorry I don’t think- can’t-”

So deceivingly innocently, you’re batting your lashes in a way that has his massive girth jolting ferally in your hand, “But that’s all I really want, Cho~?”

“...”

Leaning down, Choso could feel your mean smirk against his hotly flushed skin. Dragging up his salty trail of tears, kissing so gently meanwhile your next words made him think he’d pass out. Sultry, and whispered right against the shell of his ear, “Then we better make this last one count, right?”

“Ah!” he’s yelping, large hands scrambling for the sheets - the headboard - you when you seat yourself so prettily on his splayed-out lap. Greedy cunt feeding into every long, solid inch of his achy cock in an easy glide. It felt so good - it hurt so good. Fuck, he thinks he’s gonna-  “-die.” Choso rasps, jittery hands coming to rest at your waist. “Think m’gonna die- gonna- fuck fuck fuck-”

You didn’t even have to think of moving, yet - because all it takes is for Choso’s gushy tip to be swallowed up by your snug channel - the slightest taste of heaven, the slightest squeeze - before you’re being slammed down onto the plush mattress.

Breath puffing out of your lungs, gasping at the sheer stretch when your dangling legs are being thrown over Choso’s broad shoulders. Wrapping tight into a vice-like grip when he folds you in half, down, down, down into the meanest mating press you didn’t think either of you capable of.

But rationality was the last thing on Choso’s mind, right now. 

“Baby—” he’s hissing, fully sheathed inside your dripping cunt to that thick hilt of his. He gulps at the stars bursting behind his lids with each slow, lingering grind. Nuzzling into your touch, “Baby, can’t b-believe you’ve ahh- brought me to this state. M’sorry hah- please forgive me.”

And you almost feel bad - that is, until Choso’s swiping his fat tip against your spongy cervix. Still feeling every single pads of your fingers burning down his raw shaft every time your puffy cunt milks him tight. He’s jutting in jerky, unmethodical little humps - feeling less human than just sheer need. 

“W-well-” you’re gasping, when he gives such a ruthless smash into your bruisingly bulging g-spot. Bonelessly, you wrap your arms around his pale neck, tugging him in so close. A full-body shudder wracks through his entire body when you crane your glossy lips up to bite down on his ear lobe, “-how about you cum f’me again to make up for those three limited edition panties you stole.”

His jaw falls even more slack at your little sentence, a shiny trail of drool dripping from the corners of his ravaged lips. 

“Baby, please.” he’s hissing, moving pistoning even sloppier into you as if on autopilot. A cracking ah! ah! ah! leaves Choso’s mouth at every bullying crash against your g-spot, every dizzying thrust. “Anything else. Please please-”

Through his blurry vision, the blood roaring in his ears, Choso could make out your soft suckling kiss against his slack lips. “Cum f’me, Cho.”

Maybe it’s that honeyed little nickname, maybe the way the curve of your thumb glides away his mess of syrupy saliva. Or maybe it was the way your velvety walls come to form around him so tight - squeezing almost meanly. Once. Twice. 

Choso doesn’t know - nor does he fucking care right now.

“F-fuck I can’t believe-” his eyes snap so comically wide open, letting out such a long, drawn-out drawl of your name. Hips stuttering to smack forwards, “-m’cumming- shit, it hurts- it feels so good. M’cumming m’cumming-”

Choso cums - in ghosting, wispy streams of almost-translucent fluid. Withering out into nothing, until his poor, overworked cock is spurting out just blank heavals. Cumming dry, the only signs of him fucking you through his high being that shaking in his thighs, that frantic twitching of his shaft - flinching to nudge into each dripping sweet spot inside you. 

And his broken, pleading cries, “Fuck- m’buying you the hah- wh-whole store. Fuck- please, baby just-” Nudging his sobbing cock even deeper to brand at your cervix, “-just one more.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - TASTE

“You little-”

“What?” you’re leering down at the great Ryomen Sukuna. Pink locks splayed out across the decadent silk sheets, pretty face framed so perfectly by your thighs. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Not quite.” his long, rosy tongue licks a strip up your exposed skin. All the way up from about midway at your inner thigh to just the edges of your drippingly wet panties. Syrupy sweet, and see-through with all your juices. “You really think this is gonna make me say sorry for uh-”

You have to stifle a low laugh when Sukuna cuts himself off with a ragged hitch of his breath. Sharp, cursed eyes widening - just a fraction - honing in to let his greedy tongue loll out. It takes him only a split-second to catch that droopy ooze of your slick, beading through your sopping slit and right onto the middle of his tastebuds. 

“Mmm-” he’s licking that lewd little gloss all over his lips without even a shred of abashedness. “Where- uh where were we, brat?”

Without warning, you’re lacing your fingers through his surprisingly soft strands. Pulling - hard enough to make him groan - until the tip of Sukuna’s nose was just kissing at the lacy mound of your cunt. 

“I believe…” you’re smirking at the way that’s all it takes for him to slide the thick seam of his tongue between the thin fabric of your panties. Red - to match his eyes. Not wasting even a second when he lets your honeyed sweet cunt drool all the way down to the back of his throat. “Not gonnna make him say sorry” your ass. “-you were in the middle of apologizing for forgetting our little dinner date.”

You don’t think he hears you - you don’t even think he breathes. Because with one, final shuddering breath puffed out onto your quivering pussy, Sukuna is meshing his lips with yours in such a messy kiss. Fast, thirsty. Clashing against your swollen folds, slurping past your flimsy excuse of panties to latch around your throbbing clit. He’s hollowing out his cheeks to give them harsh, methodical little sucks. 

“Shit- mmpf- fuck I always forget how sweet you are.” he’s rasping, two large hands coming up to spread the globes of your ass. Pushing you up, up, up to slobber all your saturated slick down the lower half of his face - his cheekbones. “C’mon now, ride my nose- hah, use me with this cute cunt like you always do.”

Fuck, was it tempting. And it takes everything in you to tug away his salivating mouth with a loud squelch! And if you didn’t know any better, you’d have said that the infamous king of curses let out a whine - a whine - watching those delicate strings of spit and slick snap away when you hoist yourself off his greedy mouth.  

“What the fuck, woman?”

“I told you, Kuna.” you whine out, as scoldingly as you can. Wrangling against those big beefy arms trying to desperately pull you back down, “You hafta apologize.”

You’re teetering precariously when Sukuna’s entire chest rumbles with a groan, eyes rolling so sassily. “What did you want me to do?” he clicks his tongue. Baring you with such dangerous fangs that glisten with your juices in the dim light. “Had to kill off some scum curses, s’not my fault. M’not apologizing for- shit-”

Any and every retort is knocked out of his mean mouth at that heavenly sight of you running your trembly fingers between your puffed-up pussy lips. Pushing past your panties to run them up and down where your dripping wet cunt needed you most. 

“Oh?” you’re quirking a brow at how transfixed he was. Following that shuddering gulp when you roll your neglected clit between two fingers. “Cat got your tongue now?”

His jaw slacks open when you’re teasing your winking hole, glossed-up and already so pliant with where Sukuna had just dipped the edge of his soft tongue inside. His mouth waters at the memory, “I–”

“Or is it that you just don’t hah-” you’re arching your back even more to give him the perfect view. Fingers getting a bit more frenzied, circling around the very edge of that ring of muscle the way you knew he loved to do. “-want this-” Whining out, “-Kuna–?”

That was it.

“Fuck, sit-” Sukuna’s gritting out through clenched teeth. And when you’re only stagnating and hovering tempestuously in front of him, he wraps all four large arms around the small of your waist. “-fucking sit, woman.” 

You’re squealing at the force of his inhuman strength, dragging you down unceremoniously onto his awaiting mouth. With this, he’s spitting on your cunt. Once. Twice. Three whole times to add to the glistening gloss that collected down your folds. 

“M’sorry, see?” he goads pridefully. Oh, if anyone heard the cruel king of curses apologizing like this, they’d faint. Giving the fat of your ass a branding smack! Hard enough that he could feel all five bumps of his sweltering fingers on your skin. “Fuckin’ little- oh- spoiled little-” But Sukuna can’t even finish his sentence - can’t even think about it with his mind so saturated. Hot tongue mashing in to swerve and drag across those sweet spots hidden at your plushy walls. “Said m’sorry, s’this good enough for you?”

Your pussy such a sopping wet mess that Sukuna can’t help but kiss again. And again. And again and again and- “See m’sorry. M’so, so sorry- fuck just never take this pretty pussy away from me, little brat.” 

And now you’re sure he lets out a whimper - raspy, and a few octaves higher than his usual baritone. So deep now that he was just cinching your pulsing clit across his sharp nose. Murmuring, “Stop laughing- can feel ya shaking- before I cancel our dinner reservation for tomorrow. M’renting out the whole fuckin’ restaurant, so ya better give me my fill.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Bed chem.

“It won’t-” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that the great Gojo Satoru was pleading right now. Praying. Voice shot, pretty pink lips wobbly, pale hand raw and red from tugging on those fluffy handcuffs. He’s pouting, “Won’t work.”

He was so picture-perfect, restrained tight to the headboard with those customized handcuffs you’d ordered. Blinking his weepy, blue eyes droopily, slurring words that were all bark and no bite. 

You’re rolling your eyes, giving his spit-glossed lips a lingering little peck, “Didn’t think you were such a pussy, Toru?”

“F-fuck who are you calling a-” It makes your cunt absolutely drip with a fresh wave of honeyed juices when you give his sensitively overworked shaft another thorough glide of your drooling walls. Meshing your pussy lips with the very hilt of his angry, red cock. “Please- fuck when you’re riding me like that, sweetheart.” he’s yanking frantically on those restraints as if to hold onto your feverishly gliding body. “Think- hngh! Think I really will explode-”

“Oh?” you’re cutting through his babbles, eyes flitting over his powerful arms, those glassy eyes that just seemed to glow in the dim bedroom lighting. “I knew I wasn’t seeing things, so you do think that- ah- your powers are linked to you-”

Your thoughts are spiraling into a gooey mess when Gojo’s uncontrollably strengthened thighs leverage themselves on the silken mattress to just rut up into your squelching pussy. 

“Jus’ wanna see, Toru.” you’re huffing, reaching a hand behind your ruthless hips to palm at his painfully squeezing balls. Rolling the soft pad of your thumb over the curve of their straining texture - just the way he liked it, “Wan’ you to cum f’me. Just wanna see.”

“Using all your dirty tricks-” he’s spitting, mouth sagging open to let you plant a few somewhat apologetic kisses down Gojo’s face. “I can’t-” Another harsh buck of his hips, and with such a loudly pornographic mewl he’s bullying his overwhelmed cock up, up, up to swerve into your neverendingly sloppy staccato - right into your sweet spots. “Fine- fucking fine- hah- use me. Use me for whatever- just, please. Fuck I just wanna cum- please—”

You’re very quickly realizing that those handcuffs can do nothing to restrain Gojo Satoru. In fact, the only reason they’re still on him unscathed was purely out of indulging in your cute little play. 

Gifting you with such a sexily cocksure grin he tries to mask away his furious flush, his trembling voice with, “N-no, m’not a- hngh! M’not some grade 4 sorcerer. I’m the fuuuck- strongest, why would my powers go out of control when I cum- fuck-

Gojo’s blabbering mouth is cut off with each gripping slide down his achy cock. Molding your plushy walls to each of his eager twitches, so fucking massive that you had to balance your hands on your boyfriend’s broad deltoids to even have him reach each hidden deep spot inside you. 

It makes him throw his head back, it makes him cry out, it makes him whine. 

And it only takes a few more churning strokes of Gojo’s hips, a few more critical mashes into the spongy bullseye of your g-spot before you’re cumming. So hard that you don’t even realize it at first. 

Gojo does, though - of course, he does - fighting back against the velvety cling of your cunt to fuck you into the desk so deeply. So purposefully that he can almost feel every indented bruise of his fat tip hitting against your slick cervix, your bouncy g-spot. Wave after wave having you milking the fucking soul out of him and-

“Fuck m’gonna-” he’s whining, hips stuttering upwards like they’re pained to pull back from your heavenly pussy. If even just to thrust his greedy length all the way back in. Gojo’s breaths come out in ragged pants, chest heaving up and down. Somehow, the hairs on your body raise, and you can feel that familiar tension of pressurized atoms. “Can’t hah- last much longer. Fuck- please. M’close- gonna cum gonna-”

That sobbing little divot at the end of his angry, thick head just bursts with thick, long ribbons upon ribbons of sloshing white cum. Gliding across every inch of your tight pussy, coating all your insides in a creamy color that was so Gojo. 

It’s so much - dripping down the corners of your bulging slit in oozing little dredges, making such a mess of your rapidly overfilling cunt. Almost too much - it felt like you could explode. 

You’re almost missing that familiar little flash of blue lightning at the corner of Gojo’s pussydrunk eyes. Glowing and almost falling shut with just how fucking good it felt to have your milky cunt sloshing full of his seed. The thought- the thought makes him-

You’re gasping when the lamp by your sloppy bed starts flickering so dangerously, once. Twice. Before bursting into tiny shards that flick at the both of you - only to be stopped, falling to the surrounding blankets just a few centimeters short like they were hit by an invisible wall.

“T-Toru–” the sound of your voice makes something in Gojo’s heating body raise its dark, feral head. And he only wrenches out of those pathetic handcuffs to wrap two big, strong arms around your waist. Face burying into your skin, fucking up into you over and over and-

CREAK! 

The bed groans at his rough cadence, so loud even over the dragging wooden noises of some of the furniture nearby inching forward like they were briefly tugged by some magnetizing force - Gojo. 

Bingo.

And it’s like something snaps because you’re jolted with a sharp spark of electricity. White-hot pleasure blissing down your entire limp body, and suddenly your high feels like it’s being repeated over and over and-

“Hey- hey, sweetheart?” Gojo’s voice sounds so far away. Lazily, your heavy lids blink back your vision - when did it even become hazy? “...y’know how every science experiment has about five trials?”

“...”

A/N. I don’t want to write a longer version of Gojo’s but the demons in me want to write a longer version of Gojo’s…

Plagiarism not authorized.

[vivalasthedas]

photos from walk, just over 3.5 miles but nowhere near as nice or fun a walk. The by-way has that feeling of those little alleys that run along the back of houses in housing estates, very like you're walking to somewhere, not just going for a walk.

[solbaby7]

Good Enough to Eat

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: porn with little plot, the less obvious take on size-kink, swearing, minors DNI, size kink, implied pre-existing friendship with almost in a relationship/mated undertones? whatever tickles ur fancy, prolly typos

summary: Azriel never really took a notice to little things—until you.

—

If Azriel was being honest with himself, he could admit he’d gotten carried away.

He just hadn’t remembered ever noticing it before—how large his frame was in comparison to a female. Not until you came around with a body too small to put into words with five times as much fire inside to make up for it.

He'd lost count of how many times his mind had wandered to less than savory places in your presence; fixating on the strain of your neck when peering up to look him in the eye as you rambled on about your day. A low hum of distant acknowledgment rumbles through his chest, an attempt to seem like he was paying attention to the words coming of your mouth instead of fixating on the inviting plush of your lips. "Az, are you even listening to me?"

"Of course," A lie saturated in sweet honey and presented on a golden platter but you eat it up all the same, smiling up at him with a knowing look buried in your iris. "Keep going."

There's a brief pause--a hesitation where you contemplate questioning that faraway look etched in his features. You decide against it, shaking it off with a little laugh before continuing where you left off.

Azriel hangs onto every quirk of your lip, the etherial glow that emanated from your form as the midday sun bristles through thin curtains. Such glorious beauty enhanced by the abyss of black that draped enticingly over your chest, twisting and crossing at your midriff until it blended seamlessly into the flowy little skirt that teased at your thighs.

He drinks in every inch of bared skin, fingers clenching into fists of barely contained want when picturing those legs thrown over his shoulders with your body propped against any surface sturdy enough to withstand your weight and his mouth buried between your...

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

A mix of guilt and embarrassment should burn in Azriel's chest for being caught not paying attention but with his brain so lost in the clouds, the truth just seems to spill right out. "You're so cute." A blush grows at the apples of your cheeks, neck jerking forward just a little to push your hair against your face to hide but Azriel has already seen it—already grown addicted to it and yearns for more. "Like a little doll. Makes me want to carry you around everywhere and see how high I can throw you."

"I've killed men three times your size."

"Even cuter, a murderous little kitten."

Your nose scrunches, lips poking into a pout and when your arms raise to cross at your chest in defiance. Azriel nearly groans with need, mouth salivating at the thought of marking that skin with endless reminders of who you belonged to. “I’m far from feline and I’m not little.”

Azriel’s brow raises in silent challenge, his hands moving before he can second guess himself and in an instant you become weightless. The surprised cry that pulls free is instinctual when you’re thrown about, limbs grasping at open air for purchase. “I don’t know,” He muses, catching you and flipping you over his back with an annoying ease. “You feel like lightwork to me.”

To and fro he twists you about, a bright smile stamped on his mouth when your frightened shouts shift into unrestrained giggles and grabby hands for stability. “Azriel,” The syllables are broken up from your choppy breaths, cheeks red and thoughts scrambled. “Put me down.”

“Put you down? I hadn’t even noticed I picked you up to begin with.”

“Azriel,” You repeat, more urgency in your cadence when you feel the soft fabric of your skirts teasing up the smooth length of your legs. “I’m serious—my dress!”

“What a dress it is,” The calloused drag of his hand is sinful when sliding its way up the back of your leg, working the material up, up, up until the chilled breeze from the opened window hits your exposed flesh. “I’m a little more interested in whats under it though.” A low groan pulls from his chest when his golden gaze eats up the pale blue pair of sheer panties. Azriel could feel the thin grip he had on his restraint slipping until nothing was left in his grasp but the hypnotizing malleability of your ass. “Not so little down here, huh?”

You should tell him to stop.

You could easily use that training Cassian taught you to wiggle from Azriel’s hold and throw him to the ground as reparations.

But like the whore you are, your hips raise ever so slightly, urging his inquiring touch to shift a few inches further. “Not sure if I can say the same about you.”

Azriel’s low chuckle rumbles against your belly, his nose training up the exposed curve of your hip before he’s shifting you once more. It’s more careful this time—his hand placement more intentional when sliding you down his front, hooking your legs at his hips until you’re forced to meet his eye. “Are you brave enough to find out?”

Breath hitches, snippy words caught in the back of your throat as Azriel crossed this imaginary line drawn in the sand with all of these implicating touches. You swear your heart is fixing to lurch from your chest from the anticipation of it all, thighs clenching tighter around his waist and before you can restrain yourself—hips roll against the hard bulge straining against his breeches. “Guess so,” You utter back, pupils blown out and fingers starting their exploration in the softness of Azriel’s messy ebony strands.

A groan pulls from his throat, grip tightening at your waist and with two steps your back is braced up against the wall. Azriel’s movements are a little sloppy in his eagerness, fingers catching on crossed fabric but it doesn’t seize his exploration of you. Warm palms skim over the length of your stomach, slowing over the tantalizing swell of your breasts. “I think about these a lot.” Azriel confesses shamelessly, voice rough with want; the fan of his breath against such sensitive skin forcing a shiver down your spine. “Seems almost unnatural for such a little thing like you to have these less than little assets. You make it hard for me to get things done around here.”

Your brains a little foggy, clouded with pure lust and distracted by the concentration it takes to maintain the steady rock of your hips against the clothed cock between your thighs. “I’d say sorry but—Azriel.”

Dark promise is etched into every stunning feature when he slowly works a thumb over the length of your bottom lip. It must be instinctual, the way his tongue traces over his own in sync. “This mouth of yours has nearly gotten you in this same position dozens of times.” Need pools in your underthings, seeping through flimsy material and dragging deliciously against your clit with each desperate rut. You barely notice when the golden warmth of the library fades into the cool darkness of Azriel’s room.

It only adds to the lusty delirium, his scent engulfing you like a wave and finally his lips press against yours. Twin moans fill the silence, curious shadows following their masters command in easing your hair from your shoulders and sliding the straps of your dress free.

Every touch feels like puzzle pieces slotting into place.

His tongue in your mouth, your hands tangled in his hair while his shadows blocked out the rest of the world until nothing was left but Azriel and you. “Nearly dozens?” You breathlessly repeat, neck craning to offer more space for the myriad of marks he intended to place there. “What took you so long?”

Insecurity. Cowardice. A million different reasons had stopped Azriel from ever daring opening this door but now that the knob has been turned and the threshold breached—he was happily trapped; proud to be held prisoner as long as you desired. “Who cares? I’ve got you now.”

Melting into him is as easy as breathing, kisses desperate and hands heated when tugging off any offending clothing without breaking the connection.

Years of exposure to Azriel in the training ring prepares you plenty to see his bare abdomen and the densely packed muscles that’s housed there. The rest, however, has your mouth watering, teeth biting into your bottom lip when the heavy weight of his cock settles teasingly between your legs. “Is that what you want? To have me?” He doesn’t bother with words, only nodding once as his mouth is entirely too occupied learning the shape of your breasts and the noises that sound when his teeth graze at hardened peaks. “Then, please stop teasing before I handle this myself.”

Probably the wrong choice of words, even if they are harmless and fueled by errant desire.

“Handle it yourself?” A surprised noise escapes you when the position is swiftly shifted, Azriel’s back now propped against the headboard and his arms don’t even shake when bearing the brunt of your weight. “I’d love to see you try.” The smug expression he bears is slightly worrisome and yet you don’t resist when the weeping tip of his cock is rubbed against your folds, slipping between and easing inside.

“Fuckkk,” The word drags off your tongue, lids shut and lashes fluttering from the pleasure of it all—you felt so full. So unbelievably full that all you can do is whimper your praise and hope that your body was able to handle what you were going to put it through.

Azriel knew he’d gotten carried away.

You just sounded so pretty. Looked well on your way to being so perfectly ruined with your hair splayed messily down your shoulders as you struggled to take the full length of him, even with arousal dripping onto the satin sheets. “You’re squeezing me too tight,” Azriel croons soothingly, attempting to ease the tremble of your calves with the slow drag of his palms. “Gotta breathe, baby.”

It’s easier said than done and after a few seconds of trying to force your lungs to do their fucking jobs, you ditch the efforts altogether and delegate to more pressing matters.

Azriel doesn’t anticipate your determination but he falls harder when your brows furrow with the effort, a deep groan rumbling right through him when your hips go flush with his own.

You barely give yourself time to adjust, too eager after finally being granted all you’d desired. It’s almost as if there’s all the time in the world and still not enough time at all when Azriel’s sat so sturdy beneath you, his eyes raking up every inch of your body and committing it to memory. “There you go,” He praises with hands on your hips to guide the lewd movements. “Just like that, perfect girl.”

You all but preen under the worship, hypnotized by the devilish rasp he adopts and everything combined ignites a dangerous desire to please.

To give and give and give until there was nothing left but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care when the process felt so godsdamned good. “Az, I’m so close.” The coil in your gut grows unbearable, the steady rhythm you’d maintained begins to falter but Azriel’s quick to pick up where you’ve left off, hips bucking up into you over and over and over until one orgasm blends into the other. Every muscle goes pliant, curling around him like a lifeline as he takes his fill.

You can barely remember your name when his release follows, his chest glistening and hair in complete disarray when plopping down to the mattress, easing you beside him.

There’s a moment of awkward silence where you suddenly aren’t sure where to put your hands. Is this the part where you were supposed to leave?

When you can finally move your legs again, you make a move to slip from the warmth of the covers, bare toes skimming the harsh bite of hardwood floors when Azriel stops you with one hand is gently curled around your arm. The deep navy sheets are lazily covering his lower half and it’s near impossible to drag your eyes away from the sharp cut of his physique now that you know what it felt like up close. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“It’s the middle of the day, I still have so much to do—I should get going.”

“Blow it off,” It’s almost embarrassing how easily you melt into the request, sinking into the way he tugs you back into him, shadows tucking you securely under the covers. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

[aethersjournal]

Affirm. Affirm. Affirm.

I know that to manifest affirmations are not necessary but it is undeniable that it is a valuable tool.

Law of assumption states that our assumptions create our reality.

Assumption is nothing but the dominant thought or belief we have about the thing that we are manifesting. Assumption requires no evidence.

We also know that if we repeat a thought or a visualization enough times, we will start believing in it. This is how all our believes are formed.

Think back to one of your core beliefs. Were you born believing that? Or were you taught by your environment to believe in that? Babies don't have believes of their own. They are a blank slate that grows up to become the product of their environment until they are old enough to know better.

Now, that is how I want you to treat yourself. I want you to clean your slate and then draw in it what you DO want to manifest.

By this I mean, that I want you to affirm (or visualise if that is how you think). And I want you to repeat and persist. It is okay if you don't believe in it. Just don't think the opposite.

In the beginning, you will get thoughts against your desire. It is inevitable as it is your dominant thought. But I want you to be conscious whenever that happens and flip that thought. And I want you to repeat your affirmations.

Stop wavering and giving up. Just remind yourself that you have your desires. Thinking is easy, we think all the time. Start saturating your mind with things you want to experience.

I know you can do this and you do, in fact do this when you are anxious and thinking of how things could go wrong and thinking negative thoughts.

If you can do that, then you can do this with your positive thoughts too.

[hitomisuzuya]

Hey hey🥰

First of all I hope you’re fine and that whatever happens tomorrow will pass quickly for you. Just wanted to let you know that I love your writing and it always made my day seeing you posted something new. Thank you for that!

To my request: I would like to ask for omegaverse smut, threesome (Scara x Wanderer x reader) where Scara is the alpha and Wanderer and reader the omegas who are both going into heat simultaneously and giving Scara a hard time to take care of them because they’re so needy? I hope that’s okay if not please just ignore it.

I hope you have a good day and thank you so much for your writing!

Alpha!Scaramouche x fem!reader Omega!Wanderer x fem reader. Smut. Threesome. Cunnilingus. Scara receiving. Wanderer giving. Degradation. Creampie. Multiple orgasms. Wanderer kinda subby. Scara is kinda mean.

Thank you so much🥺 It always makes me happy to know that my writing makes someone's day❤️ I am doing okay. This is kinda filthy😳

Scaramouche's mean streak was in full gear tonight. Heats are particularly hard for both you and Wanderer. And it didn't help things that Scaramouche had one cardinal rule:

His two omegas had to ask him if they could touch each other.

Wanderer was between your legs, panting and drooling, occasionally letting out a soft whimper as he sucked and licked at your pussy. Scaramouche held your wrists over your head, the nimble fingers of his other hand pinching and rolling one of your nipples. Each pinch and twist made you thrash on the bed, shocks of pleasure jolted to your clit as Wanderer messily swirled his tongue around it.

Wanderer moaned as you grinded your pussy into his tongue, holding your thighs apart as he pushed his tongue greedily inside of you. He rutted his straining into the mattress, groaning as he tasted you clenching around his tongue. More drool pooled onto your pussy in anticipation as he realized you were close to cumming.

"You both are so fucking needy," Scaramouche hissed, delivering a calculated pinch to your nipple before pushing Wanderer's mouth down onto your pussy, "Crying and whining to fuck because you in are in heat. Eat like the worm that you are."

Such a shiver went through you as Scaramouche rounded his annoyed glare on you. "And you, whimpering about how my cumming down your throat wasn't enough, plunging your fingers into your greedy hole while you sucked me off," He forced Wanderer's head down your pussy a little so he could stroke and pinch your clit.

"I can't help it, my body aches," You cried out, your legs spasming as your cum suddenly saturated Wanderer's tongue. You blushed hearing the lewd slurping noises between your legs, your hips bucking into his mouth to chase the friction of his tongue.

Scaramouche grabbed a handful of your hair, lifting your head and turning it slightly. "Open up, slut," He pushed the head of his leaking cock on your lips, "Suck just the tip," His cock pulsed from asserting dominance over you as an alpha.

And as an omega, you gladly obeyed your alpha. Your tongue eagerly swept out to curl around the head, lapping at his precum before scooping the tip into your mouth to suck on.

Scaramouche pumped his cock head in and out of your mouth, groaning as prodded your tongue into the slit. He was just bidding his time, watching for signs of overstimulation. They were already fast setting in with Wanderer's lips latched drunkenly on your clit.

Youbmuffled whines of bliss on his cock head, letting him guide your head. Your walls clenched sensitive around nothing as you twitched. Scaramouche smirked seeing your twitches. "That's enough," He abruptly pulled Wanderer's mouth off your pussy.

Wanderer growled in a rare show of offense, but instantly back down as Scaramouche glared at him. A line of drool connected your tongue to his cock as he took it out of your mouth, flipping you over onto all fours.

Scaramouche pressed a hand down on your back, making you arch it. Before you were bred, Wanderer had talked Scaramouche into eating you out first on one condition:

He had to watch Scaramouche breed you. A little punishment for being so annoying as Scaramouche bluntly put it. Wanderer bit his lip, swallowing a moan of jealousy as he watched Scaramouche rub his cock between your folds, his eyes trained on the way you eagerly pushed back into Scaramouche's cock. He ached to be his alpha's position.

"Fuck, this slut is so tight," Scaramouche moaned, sinking his cock deep into your pussy. He was quick to pick up a rough pace, making your toes curl as he drove his cock into your sweet spot.

Wanderer's eyes were trained on Scaramouche's cock squelching wetly into your sopping cunt, thrusting into his hand as he fisted his cock. Cum ribboned into his hand watching you reach down to rub your clit.

"Good girl," Scaramouche purred, praising the loud, lewd moans of bliss that keened from you, "let that pathetic omega hear how good your alpha is fucking you," He batted your hand away to nurse your clit himself, hastily making you squirt on his cock. He broke the knot of your orgasm easily.

He gripped your hips, holding you still as he chased his own orgasm. Scaramouche swallowed back a whimper of his own, huskily moaning as his cock emptied itself inside of you. He was careful in his purpose to have at least a little bit of cum seep from your pussy as he pulled out.

"Finger it back inside," He commanded Wanderer.

[eamour]

"fulfillment…?"

i feel like many of you still feel so overwhelmed by the word "FULFILLMENT". i had the urge to clear this up, mainly because i saw comments of people saying things along the lines of "everything used to be better before we were told to fulfill ourselves!" or "what even is fulfilling? can’t i just affirm and persist?".

i thought this was actually pretty obvious but maybe it still confuses some people. manifestation terms, pretty much the very majority of them, all imply the SAME. they all refer to the same thing. it’s just that we like using and creating synonyms to re-define and re-describe words to make it more understandable, or to simplify manifesting.

to "fulfill self" could mean anything. it actually means so much. it means whatever you want it to mean. it means whatever FULFILLMENT means to you. i'll give you a list of what "fulfill yourself" could also stand for:

embody your desired version of self.

get into the state.

live in the end.

identify with your desire.

feel the wish fulfilled.

claim your desire to be yours.

shift your state.

accept your desires as true.

experience it in imagination.

be and have it in your mind.

think from your desire.

shift or redirect your focus.

change or flip your assumptions.

persist in acceptance.

believe you have or are it.

feel it real.

and more …

all of these things refer to the exact same thing — how to MANIFEST. we just happen to have a bunch of ways to explain it.

so, when somebody talks about "fulfillment" or "saturation", it always means what YOU think it does. if you read a post that’s asking you to fulfill yourself, it’s asking you to do whatever the hell you want to get into the state of mind in which you have or are what you desire to either have or be. this also includes methods like visualisation, affirmations, and so on.

to "fulfill self" isn’t something new. it’s not an extra step you need to take after (1) desiring something, (2) claiming it to be yours and (3) persisting. think of it as the last two steps combined.

manifesting will always be the same. it doesn’t change, and neither does the law just because we say "fulfill and continue to do so" instead of "affirm and persist". therefore, i think, if you feel overwhelmed by all of these terms, you may have not fully grasped the concept of manifestation or don’t understand that these definitions are all alike.

i hope this could help. 🙏 so please, let’s not demonise every new word trending on here which is supposed to make manifesting more comprehensible.

with fulfillment, ella.

[gigidragonbbxxx]

Favorite Placebos

What are placebos in the context of the Law of Assumption?

Placebos are made up rules or actions that a master manifester assigns meaning to which allows them to affirm and persist in a particular belief even when they are not actively saturating

essentially, because we are the operant power of our realities, we can decide what anything means.

a famous example is Angel Numbers! 111 or 777 and people will assign a meaning to it. But there is no concrete source on what every angel number means, we just give our own interpretation. I have no longer assigned different meanings to individual angel numbers, if I see one I simply say "Oh 333? I'm getting everything I want."

The trick is not to make your placebos limits. Let me repeat that.

DO NOT MAKE PLACEBOS YOUR LIMIT.

Do not fall all over the place if you wanna see 333 and never see it. Placebos are meant to be fun and harmless and an aid/supplement to manifestation.

Onto my favs!

Every time I drink water, I get prettier

I lose belly fat every time I work out

For every penny I spend, a dollar is returned to me

I've gotten to the point where I assign a positive meaning to everything (this is the level of ALWAYS THINKING IN YOUR FAVOR).

I will literally see the weather and say "Oh it's raining? I'm getting what i want."

Coffee spills? Everything works out for me. Misplaced a makeup product? It just means I'm too pretty. Accidentally trip? You're always loved. Dishes need washing? Every dish washed is a wish fulfilled.

This is all an example of the principle and practice of Saturation. The consistency and discipline required to assign positive meanings to everything, even in the face of something seemingly disastrous is the exact frequency of PERSISTING that every damn loass coach preaches about.

Make your own. Make them silly. Make them serious. I don't care, just MAKE THEM. Practice flipping your thoughts!

Pro Tip: it's just like habit stacking, you're getting 2 things outta 1 action. Tie it to stuff you do regularly. Brushing teeth, chores, etc. Make it easy, do not make things hard or complicated.

Have fun. and comment/add your own personal fav placebos! I'll be making a masterlist soon

xx, gigi

[dadvans]

chick flick moments (bucktommy)

[i can’t stop thinking about tommy’s favorite movie being Love, Actually.]

Tommy hasn’t really talked or seen his family in roughly twenty years. His firefighting career has never been enough, if they were ever keeping tabs, to make up for his dishonorable discharge. And honestly, it’s been fine with him. His family has always been the suffocating kind of conservative and earning their love stopped being a hill he would choose to die on for longer than they’ve been radio silent.

Someone is keeping tabs though, or maybe the news of his recent heroics have a broader reach than he thought, because a few months after getting a medal for the cruise liner disaster response, someone reaches out. Tommy is hesitant to engage because he’s pretty happy without them in his life, but maybe at first it was a cousin or uncle, but that’s followed by one of his sisters trying to get into contact, followed by his mom, followed by his dad. And they’re persistent. Maybe they do want to make amends. And maybe he doesn’t need his blood family but there’s that tiniest part of him left that still wants that connection.

This is how he gets suckered into the most miserable Christmas dinner of his life. It’s not actually Christmas, it’s a few days before when the whole clan can get together, and it’s just as claustrophobic and awful as ever, every word spoken saturated in judgment and triple meanings that Tommy long since has lost the muscle to withstand.

Evan had wanted to come with him, said a whole bunch of shit about how they were PARTNERS, and how it could not be nearly as bad as his own parents were, but Tommy’s extended family holiday dinners are like a Los Angeles Miserable People convention crowded between the dining room and kitchen tables, and Evan’s still licking some wounds after surviving Gerrard’s brief yet nightmarish tenure back at the 118, maybe next time. This first round Tommy needs to do solo. So, Evan drops him off around the corner in the afternoon with a promise to come pick him up later that night.

Evan checks in with him pretty frequently, sending him stupid videos and things he finds on the internet, but Tommy gets hit immediately by some pretty barbed comments about being a grown man on his phone who doesn’t give a shit about the olive branch he’s being offered, so he stops checking so much.

Finally, halfway through too many glasses of wine and an early evening roast that make his memories of MREs seem like a pleasant dream, his phone starts going off pretty insistently. It’s Evan.

The doorbell is about to ring and i need you to be the one to answer it.

Well, that’s worrisome. He’s pretty close to the hallway though, so he types back: ok.

The doorbell rings. He shoves away from the table, waving everyone else back down. “I’ll get it.”

Evan is at the door. He has his phone out with a little plug-in speaker, and oh God, a stack of cue cards—

Unbelievable. “What are you doing.”

Evan enthusiastically hits play on his phone and as tinny Christmas music starts to play, holds up the first card: TELL THEM IT’S CAROLERS

He shakes his head. “Evan, even if they believed me, they would probably love that and would come check it out.”

“Tommy, who’s at the door?” His uncle calls from the dining room.

Tommy rolls his eyes and shouts back, “Planned Parenthood asking for donations!”

“Tell ‘em were eating dinner and to get the fuck out of here!”

Tommy looks at Evan pointedly, eyebrows raised, hands in pockets as if to say: well?

Evan flips to the next few cue cards:

I NEVER SAW THIS MOVIE BEFORE YOU MADE ME WATCH IT flip AND HONESTLY IT WASNT THAT GOOD flip BUT TO ME YOU ARE WORTH IT

“Evan,” Tommy says, softening.

AND I KNOW YOU THINK YOU ARE PROTECTING ME BY TELLING ME TO STAY HOME flip AND THOUGH WHATEVER IS GOING ON CAN’T BE AS BAD AS WATCHING LOVE, ACTUALLY flip OR HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS flip OR THE WEDDING PLANNER flip OR 50 FIRST DATES flip (I ACTUALLY LIKED FORGETTING SARAH MARSHALL) flip I WANTED TO CHECK IN

Evan fumbles the cards to the hand holding his phone to pull something out of his back pocket, a piece of paper he gives Tommy, before flipping to the next card: I MADE THIS RANSOM NOTE IF YOU NEED TO BE KIDNAPPED flip AND WE CAN GET OUT OF HERE

It’s easily the stupidest grand gesture anyone’s ever directed at Tommy. He looks over the piece of paper, words threateningly put together cut out from Evan’s copies of Food & Wine and Men’s Health. He nods to himself, smiling, then looks up at Evan who is cheesing back.

“Yeah,” he says, feels for his phone and wallet in his pocket, before dropping the paper to the welcome mat and stepping outside, ready to escape back home to the only family he needs.

[honeytonedhottie]

beginners guide to manifesting⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⭐️

the definition of manifesting (the law of assumption) is simply, whatever you assume to be true, is true. we are ALWAYS manifesting subconsciously. your beliefs/thoughts are what u experience. therefore if u change ur thoughts , then you'll experience differently.

VOCAB USED A LOT IN THE LOA COMMUNITY :

3D/4D - the 3D refers to ur physical. what you're experiencing physically. the 3D acts as a mirror, and reflects whats in the 4D. the 4D refers to ur mental. ur beliefs, thoughts and assumptions that u continuously think. whats in ur 4D will reflect in ur 3D. not the other way around. this is important to remember when manifesting. if u want a change in the physical, a change must first be made in ur mind.

an analogy to help understand it is, if ur looking in the mirror, and u see that u have lipstick in ur teeth. if u wiped the mirror in hopes that the lipstick stain would disappear, would it disappear. no ofc not. u would have to wipe the lipstick off of your own teeth first, then when u looked into the mirror, you wouldn't see the stain. its the same way with the 4D and 3D. u can't expect to see change if u dont wipe the lipstick off of ur teeth. trying to change the 3D/wipe the mirror won't do anything for you.

WAVERING - wavering is flip flopping between two different stories that u tell urself. it's important to persist in one story and not flip flop between "i have it/no i dont". if u affirm that ur rich but ur continuously thinking thoughts like "ugh i'll never be rich" or "im so broke/i never have money" ur self sabotaging. stop that.

THE RULES OF MANIFESTING? - there is none. ur assumptions are true. therefore ur the one who puts the limits on ur manifestations. do what u will with that information. but the rules and limitations are made BY you, FOR you, bcuz its ur reality.

LAW OF ASSUMPTION VS LAW OF ATTRACTION - these are two distinctly different things.

law of attraction if im not mistaken focuses more on things like ur vibrations, making ur vibrations match what ur trying to manifest. like its name suggests law of attraction focuses on ATTRACTING ur desires, the idea that ur constantly putting energy out into the universe, and negative thoughts and emotions -> will manifest negative outcomes. (pls correct me in the comments if this is false)

law of assumption is whatever u assume to be true is true. whether u prefer law of assumption/attraction, the law of assumption is still proven true regardless. thats because its literally science and how the universe works. it focuses on changing ur assumptions -> to therefore change ur experiences. there isnt any outside validation (the universe etc) everything that u need is within u already.

personally, i prefer the law of assumption bcuz it gives me control and it ALWAYS works.

AFFIRMATIONS - affirmations are thoughts that you'd think if u had ur desire. repeating ur affirmations familiarizes ur brain with having ur desire which makes it SUPER helpful when manifesting something consciously. the thoughts that u have every single day are ur affirmations and thats whats being proven true to u in ur everyday life. FOR EXAMPLE ; "the sky is blue" is an affirmation that is proven true everyday bcuz you manifested it (subconsciously not consciously). if u create a new assumption, then that'll be proven true too. ur thoughts today = what u experience tomorrow

IN A NUTSHELL - controlling ur thoughts and mind -> manifests whatever u want into ur life. there are no limits except for the ones that u put on urself. whatever u can conceptualize is possible (so dont go and ask ppl "can i manifest x,y, and z" bcuz YES U CAN) ur only task is to : affirm/saturate/visualize, whatever ur bag is -> use repetition when u have doubts/limiting beliefs -> persist regardless of what u see in the 3d and dont waver -> reap the fruit of ur manifestation.

go and manifest whatever u want, the world is your oyster

[its-in-the-woods]

'Down the Rabbit Hole' Chapter 1

Chapter two chapter three Chapter four

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating: None for this chapter future ones will be adjusted.

Slow build like novel damn length okay, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.

Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.

Note: they are both single, all for fun.

WARNING I do not have this all written out, I do have it plotted out, but it may be a little slower for chapters to come out. Please bear with me. If you know a Beta to edit please send them to me.

Getting the phone call that you're working with Liz again is surprising. You had encountered Liz several times, mostly as a day call trying to get hundreds of extras through a small window of time. She was well-known in the industry as being a giant pain in the ass. Though you had gotten along somewhat well with her, you had never quite felt like the women would have picked you as a second.

Sitting down in the production office you start to fill in paperwork. There is always so much paperwork. Thankfully this would have you working for the next four months. Four months of not having to fill out forms or wonder when your next job would come. Granted you had made a favorable impression with several other heads of department. But if everyone was honest the biz was saturated with less skilled artists who would bend over backward, or forwards, just to get a day in. You flick over the paperwork refilling the same information for the fifth time. 

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second,” It's Liz, done up to the nines as always. Touches of grey hair starting to show against the dirty blonde. She wears all black with a horrid mix of silver and gold jewelry. 

You follow the woman back, completely prepared for her to tell you that you will not be seconded to her. That you'd be moved to 2nd unit or something much more fitting for someone with just “five years of experience”. 

Walking into the little office you place the paperwork on your lap as you sit across from her. The walls have headshots of cast along with information underneath.  You don't pay attention, if you're working a different unit chances are you'd never see them anyway.

“Nice to see you again,” Liz says, you get a feeling that she was putting on a bit of a show. She’s put on a weird smile that doesn’t meet her eyes, not that you could tell she won’t look at you. 

“Likewise, hope you've been doing well,” You reply, you can't stomach being a kiss ass.

Liz makes a humming noise as she flips through the large binder. One of the the few things you both agreed on, is hard copy beat digital work. 

“At the moment you're not going to be seconding with me, you've been requested by the lead.” She gestures over to the wall.

You look over and see Walton Goggins’ face staring back at you. You chew at your lip, you've worked with him twice. Mostly while doing smaller rolls, he had always been easy to work with and hilarious.  

“Ah, I see.” You reply, trying not to act a little flustered. You'd never had an actor request you, it was probably one of the biggest compliments you could get.

“You and Trevor will be working together with Mr. Goggins. I've taken you've read the script?” Liz looked at you through heavy mascara eyelashes. You nodded at the question. “Good. It's pretty straightforward, anything with large amounts of blood will be dealt with by the FX crew. You're basically babysitting and making sure he doesn't wander off covered in gore.”

You can't suppress the laugh at the comment. You could picture the man getting driven away looking like he had murdered a small town. The Teamster would have a fit about cleaning that.

“Sounds good, I am guessing I can increase my pay and kit rental?” You push, requested or not you knew your kit was far better stocked than most. Whether Liz agrees or not would be a moot point.  You could always approach production for a pay raise. Running it through Liz first just kept accounting from jumping down your throat.

Liz stares at you for a moment, her mouth a thin line. For a second you think she may try to argue the wage. Instead, she flicks her eyes back down to her binder.

“Yes, Production has already approved a pay raise for both. As well as sending in a small request for certain products he’d like.” Liz passes you the paper without looking up. On the top is your wage and kit fee, along with product allowance. It's much more than you anticipate, but you keep that to yourself.  

“You can drop your stuff off at the trailer and then go grab what you need. Start things off slow.” 

***

Paperwork done and handed in, you grab timesheets, start packs and, any other office stuff you think the trailer may need. Driving down the narrow alley you park your little Honda Accord beside the make-up trailer. You unload several bins beside the steps before parking. Inside the trailer is pretty sparse. You set out to fill your drawers, stocking the place with all the necessities. Trevor shows up as you're starting to finish up. 

“Heyyyy,” He chirps, coming in with his own kit. The man is tall, slim, with a wicked smile, green eyes, and a riot of brown curly hair. He is a major flirt who loves to chat about anything and everything.

“Hey, Trevor. How have you been?” You give him a hug. The two of you had both started out at the same time and he was as close to a friend as you had in the industry.  

“Oh yah know, just living the dream!” He rolls his eyes, waving his hands in the air.

“Nice we get some space to spread out. Feels homey” You smile as you place paperwork into holders. 

The trailer was a newer model, with four stations, four chairs, mirrors, lights, and shelving. There was also a sink and hair sink. It was nice to have your own space. Often times you were allotted a small tent and much else. But here you had access to everything and it was warm against the never-ending rain. 

“Not to mention getting requested.” Trevor wiggles his eyebrows. “Like I didn't think that would ever happen.”

You both chuckle at the situation. You finish up and make sure all your bits and pieces are laid out. You’d print any notes for tomorrow and get them into binders. Also, need to make sure you are connected with everyone’s clouds. Digital wasn’t your niche but it was necessary. 

“Do you want me to grab anything for you? I am hitting up the usual haunts for goodies.” You ask, grabbing your purse. Downtown would be a nut house but having all the requested products was important. 

Trevor pauses the comb on his chin. “How about I text you the list I need? I think I need like four things?”

“Yep, that sounds good. I will see you tomorrow for camera tests”

***

You do three days of camera testing and running over lighting making sure everyone looks their best. It’s always a flurry, trying to find an easy groove that you all could work with. Liz took the first chair, Katie took the second chair, you were in third, and fourth was slated for fx. It was tight once everyone was in there and warm, but it worked and that’s really all you could ask for. 

Now near the end of the week came the first shoot day. Liz barely makes eye contact with you besides a ‘Good Morning’. You didn’t care, you knew what you needed to do, a detailed email had been sent out last night. Besides Walton, you had three other actors to take care of. Not surprisingly they were all male, Liz’s actual second was Katie. A petite woman with pin-straight blonde hair, a heart-shaped face, and a big personality. She loved doing anything cute and fun. So you got stuck with the rough end of things, but if you were honest that was your wheelhouse. Bruises, cut lips, red-rimmed eyes, bloody noses, looking a bit more disheveled and run down. Yep, all things you could do quickly and efficiently. Hopefully, the AD wouldn’t be too pushy. The first two men are easy enough, you and Trevor fall into a rhythm. Blasting some 80s music as you both drink Red Bulls and dance away. Katie joins in the fun as you all pretend to sing karaoke

The third man doesn’t show, which is annoying as hair in cream blush. You radio the AD who already sounds annoyed. He tells you he will bring Walton over ASAP to you. You let out a sigh and rub your face. You crack open another redbull and take a deep sip. The trailer ran on redbull, which was the preferable alternative. 

“Stepping up!” Yells a familiar voice. Walton comes in with a flurry, coffee in hand, sunglasses pushed up. He wiggles his way through everyone with polite hellos and hugs. He comes over and squeezes you into a tight embrace. You hug back your cheeks going a little pink. The man is striking both in looks and presence, his aura is calm and confident. His hair was jet black with silver sideburns, deep-set hazel eyes, and an infectious smile.

“Oh, it is so good to be back filming. Finally!” He flops himself into your chair crossing his long legs. He is already in costume well fitting jeans and a green button-up. 

“Nice to see you again.” You smile and get to work, “How’s the day treating you so far?”

“It’s been lovely, though I do miss the sunshine. Does it ever stop raining here?.” He chatters on. 

You finish skincare and get down to covering minor blemishes and making sure his eyebrows aren’t too wild. Trevor chitters back with the man as he sorts his hair into something a little neater than the fluff it was before. 

“There you are looking fantastic as always,” You croon and step away from the mirror. The man makes a shocked sound and inspects his face.

“Darlin’ you always make me look as pretty as a painting,” Walton giggles in a higher feminine voice, looking himself over in the mirror. 

“Oh hush,” You giggle back, “get your tight butt to set.” You shooed him out the door, he wiggled his butt and gave you a kiss on the cheek before swishing out the door. 

“That man is hilarious, it’s going to be a fun show,” Trevor stated with a chuckle as he prepared his set bag. “Do you think number three will show?”

You let out a sigh,” Probably not at this point, the AD is going to murder us if we don’t get to set now.”

***

Number three was standing on set, you felt anger roll over your shoulder. He was of average height with a face that looked as if he had a permanent scowl. At least you had brought an extra set bag. You grab the man’s arm firmly, hauling him away to stand under a set light. Trevor immediately trailed after you. He huffs and stands mostly still. You can smell weed on him, and judging by his red eyes he was stoned out of his mind. You hand him eyedrops, and the man sneers at you but puts them in. Letting some of the liquid spills on his face, you sigh.

“Look, nerves are normal.” You mutter more to yourself than anyone. “But coming here stoned and avoiding makeup and hair is not going to win you any brownie points.”

“I don’t need a lecture from you,” The man bites out, walking away as you tuck your brush back into your bag. You grumble and move over to your chair, you make eye contact with one of the AD’s who scoots over to you. 

“I apologize about Arnold not coming to your trailer, I didn’t realize he was here.” The man lets out his own sigh, “It won’t happen again.”

“He doesn’t like us at all. Going to make things a little tricky.” You reply trying not to call him a complete ass about him. 

AD nods his head, “I know. It will be dealt with.”

You walk over to the video village peering at the screens as you say hello to familiar faces. Everyone looked good, even Arnold, at least his eyes weren’t completely bloodshot. You take a particular look at Walton who seems to be letting himself get into character. Something flits in your heart as he looks up at the camera from under his brow. 

***

The day ends and you cycle through secondary actors, Arnold all but running out the door once he is done. You can’t help but glare at the man, the least he could do was say thank you for cleaning his dirty mug. 

You flop down in the chair as the rest of your coworkers clean their things. The buzz of your coworkers is somehow relaxing, you take a sip of cold coffee and clean your brushes. Another knock and you turn to see Walton walking in, he has run his hands through his hair so that it stands straight up.

You let out a chuckle, “Did you stick a fork in a socket.” Getting up to let the leading man sit in the chair. 

“Oh, this?” He says pointing at his head, “I thought it was supposed to look like this.”

The room erupts in laughter as he makes his eyes cross and sticks his tongue out pretending to be electrocuted. Shaking your head you get to work, skincare was just as important as the actual makeup. You were ever grateful the man thoroughly enjoyed being pampered and preened by everyone. Made your job so much easier. 

*I am definitely nervous about posting this. But I hope it's fun and cute. It's going to be a slow build and a lot of back and forth. But I promise it will be fun cute and a little moody. Just a pinch of angst cause why not. *

Chapter two

[thebutchersbitch]

Cooper accidentally awakening a piss kink in both of you at once …

18+ obv

He’s been out all night drinking with the guys from the station. You’re sitting on the side of the tub in nothing but a t shirt, one foot propped up while painting your toenails. You hear the garage door raise, and the car engine shut off. Your husband is home, and from the staggered sound of his lumbering footsteps inside, he’s fucking WASTED…

Cooper’s getting closer to the bathroom, you realize. Seconds later, he stumbles through the door, fumbling with his zipper, barely registering your presence. He’s kind of cute like this, completely inebriated, so blasted he can’t even figure out how to get his pants undone. You think it’s cute, at least until Cooper does get his cock out and accidentally misses the toilet, pissing all over your freshly-manicured foot.

“Jesus, Cooper!!” you whine, curling your leg up into your stomach. “What the fuck??!” And maybe if he wasn’t so drunk, he would have apologized right away. But in this moment, all he can do is stare in a hazy kind of fascination at the sight of his own piss dripping down your leg, his stream steadily tapering off onto the floor. Cooper is so wasted, he wonders for a second if that’s your piss, if you accidentally peed yourself. He doesn’t know why, but the idea of you pissing yourself is strangely…endearing to him. Maybe it’s the helplessness of it, of being so full that you can’t hold it in, that makes it oddly erotic.

But when he realizes that it’s his piss all over you, it stirs an entirely different set of emotions in Cooper. He already dominates you sexually, and in pretty much every other area of your lives. It’s exactly how you both want things to be, with Cooper making the rules, telling you how it is. You encourage Cooper to get a little mean with his dirty talk, to degrade you a little. But to be so ‘above,’ you that you’re literally nothing but a target for his piss to land on? That has Cooper’s mind reeling, in spite of the alcohol flooding his system. He thinks he might try it again-this time, on purpose…

Cooper takes you by the hair and turns you to face him, your ass swiveling on the side of the tub. He plants his feet in front of you, steadying himself. Your hair is still bundled up in Cooper’s hand, the pull causing a slight sting in your scalp. In his other hand, Cooper holds his stiffening cock, pumping it a couple of times before aiming his tip at your chest.

You both watch his piss spatter against your tits, saturating your t-shirt as Cooper directs his stream over your nipples, watching them peak. His eyes are hooded with a drowsy, seductive look that has you yearning to please him, and in turn, please yourself. He orders you to lift your shirt, exposing your bare pussy underneath. He kneels to the bathroom floor and buries his face between your legs, one of his big hands securing your back in place as he eats you so you don’t slip into the bathtub. You grip Cooper’s hair, holding on as his tongue takes you higher and higher. He looks up from between your legs, his face flushed and glistening, and tells you to “do it-right now, want to watch-,” and with a gentle push, you release the pressure in your belly, your piss trickling down the side of the tub in a thin stream.

Cooper watches, fascinated, breathing though his mouth in heavy breaths as he strokes himself. Watching so much wetness literally run out of you reminds him of when his cum drips out of you after sex, after he fills you to the brim. It reminds him of when you’re so turned on that you’re making a mess all over his face, his cock, his thigh, whatever part of him you’re getting yourself off on…

When you’re finished, Cooper grabs you by the waist and flips you, bending you over the edge of the bath tub. Mounting you with a low growl in your ear, Cooper punches his hips forward and enters your sopping cunt easily, reaching around to clutch your throat as he fucks your own piss inside you and later, his cum…

[chouxsardine]

Warm Honey---Jake Kiszka x reader

A short blurb where me imagining getting high with Jake and listening to classical music ended up turning into some jake-playing-guitar worship and stream of consciousness smut. I just feel it's so sexy when your partner can feel the effect they have on you, and I'd like to think Jake loves that. 18+ content below cut. Enjoy!

Warning: 18+! Minors DNI, Drug use (marijuana), sexual content, body worship (kind of)

🎧: Scriabin Sonata No.4 in F sharp major, Op.30

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

He is all that you can think of, all that you feel.

Whenever you smoke joint with Jake, you always like to describe your mind as being “in a stake of Jake”. He is not occupying the space as the subject. Instead, he wraps around it in an all-encompassing way. He exists as the warmth of a blanket, a scene from the rear view mirror, the tingling on your skin as the wetness from an open-mouthed kiss evaporates.

Jake is sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, you are lying down with your head on his lap. The air is damp, saturated with the earthy smell. Jake just lets out a puff of smoke. You look up and blink. The light of the floor lamp is hazy through the smoke like the moon halo. Rachmaninoff is playing at a low volume in the background. The title of the melody escapes you. It could be Symphony No.2 or something like that. You are too far gone to put any effort into trying to recall it. Life feels really good at this moment, and that’s all you want to focus on.

Jake’s hand is resting in your hair, occasionally scratching your scalp or swirling the soft strands near your hairline around his finger, sending buzzing shivers under your skin. You squirm a bit, reaching above to grab his hand in yours. The sensation of being in touch with human flesh clashes with your stupefying illusion. Suddenly, Jake’s hands become the most interesting thing in the world.

If Jake is sober enough to look down, he will find you staring at his hand intensely with dilated pupils. The skin around your eyes is tinted with a fluffy shade of pink. And you are staring with the fervent passion of a child looking into a kaleidoscope for the first time, stunned and in awe. His hands are warm. Nails always blunt and well-trimmed, receded tamely behind the finger tips. Veins visible under his skin, knuckles strong and sturdy. You hold up his hand higher to the ceiling, looking at the light seeping through the slits between his fingers as if he has magical powers.

His hands truly are magical. The way he makes his guitar whine and moan on stage. You close your eyes briefly, recalling the way his right hand firmly grasping the neck while the palm of his left hand resting on its rear body. Sometimes he does that devious thing where he pushes the guitar back and forth as if shaking someone’s shoulder, the intensity of it cushioned by their connection through the strap, thereby creating a tensile and magnetic stretch between them. Once, you asked him why he would do that; “it helps with the trills and echoes,” he said, flashing you a smirk. You don’t believe him for one bit. When his fingers slide across the fretboard in an elegantly frantic speed, you wonder why there aren’t sparks bursting out because it surely looks like swiftly striking the head of a match against the side of the box. And you love the way he does tremolo, oh, the dazzling movement of his fingers on the higher end of the fretboard, his ring finger and pinky curved, alternating so smoothly that it looks like he is tickling someone. Well, it surely tickles your heart. And your pussy, if you are being honest. That’s when you feel it. The wetness sneaks up on you slowly. Jake always turns you on at the flip of a switch, the blink of an eye. Normally, you are already soaked as your mind is preoccupied with the yearning for his mouth, his fingers, and his cock. However, the weed amplifies all senses. This time, you can almost feel the titillation trickling down your spine, like morning dew collected on rose petals.

Without much thought (not that you can form any coherent ones now anyway), you hold up his fingers, make them spider-walk across your belly before lowering them down into your panties.

Jake lets out an amusing humph. With all the sensory stimulation stealing his words, he’s not much of a talker when he’s high. Your communication during times like these are almost telepathic—you could tell from just a simple raise of his fingers that he wants another handful of chips, and he could tell just by the slightest turn of your head that you want another hit. He always jokes that you read each other between the lines. The reassuring silence weaves a velvet blanket that falls and lands on both of you in a floating manner.

You look up and find him looking down on you with a lopsided smile. So lackadaisical that it’s almost goofy but smug nonetheless. He quirks his eyebrows, and you put up a finger against your lips.

“Shh.”

You’ve always known that Jake loves to watch. He gets so hard just by watching you getting yourself off, using all of his willpower not to come in his pants while somehow managed to take mental notes of your preference. He always looks down the moment your bodies connect, whether that’s him entering you or you sinking down on him. His mind is always blown by the way he disappears into you bit by bit and your malleability to adjust him. It’s almost like you were made for each other. The combination of the visual image and the physical sensation short-circuits his brain. The sigh and moans that escape him drive you crazy. Jake loves the process as much as he enjoys the maddening pleasure. And this time, with the weed delaying the need to fuck each other, you would like to let him experience that.

At first, it’s just his dry and warm palm covering your lower belly, his finger slotted between your fold, with his finger pad resting against your hood and finger tip grazing your clit. You feel he move, instinctively wanting to rub it.

“Nuh uh,” you tightens your grip, “I want you to feel it, babe.”

You are certain you are getting there. You can almost picture it, like honey slowly descending down the wall of a glass tube. It’s an agonizingly slow process, like a golden snake with malicious intent, twisting and turning its body; its expected sweetness drawing out the moisture of the mouth, causing one to salivate.

Ah. Here it comes.

Without meeting his gaze, you know that Jake feels it too. His fingers have long familiarized themselves as the hierarch of the territory which is your pussy. He has learned, through time and experience, the prelude of your arousal. Every respond is picked up by the tactile receptors on his finger pad and his muscle memory. Much like with his guitars, Jake is always caught in an affectionate paradox when it comes to your pussy—he walks this ground with confidence and pride over the possessiveness he has over it, albeit constantly carrying a veneration for its beauty and the sincere humbleness to learn and explore.

The previous friction has now transformed into a gentle rise of temperature and the coated slickness provided by your discharge. Your clit presses more firmly against his finger tips now that it starts to swell and throb.

“Damn, love, can almost feel your heartbeat.” Jake grunts, his words a bit slurred.

“That’s the point,” you arch your back, feeling vainglorious about your little trick, “my tell-tale heart. Feel what you do to me by simply existing?”

“Gosh, you’re gonna end me one day,” Jake tilts his head backwards, his eyes rolling back too, “but I wouldn’t want it any other way. And the epitaph would say, ‘gone doing what he loves’.”

You laugh, knowing that the filter between his brain and mouth has melted away now. Meanwhile, you are getting silkier and warmer by the second. Jake feels like he dips his finger into a jar of honey, the snugness of your walls trapped him there. He’s an insect preserved in a sea of saccharin, captivated by the moment as the waves wash over him again and again, reminding him that he is the reason why his girl is so turned on, he is the reason why this body lying against him coordinates all its nerves and cells to produce such an amazing response to his touch.

You can hear the clarinet playing in the symphony. If your memory serves you right, it won’t be long until the allegro vivace of the last movement kicks in. You look up at Jake’s face again. He swallows, his Adam’s Apple trembles in a way that makes you want to take a bite. With his eyes closed, his eyebrows pulling together, and his lips pursed, that man looks like he could be having an orgasm right there. It’s almost whimsical, given that he is the one who has his hand in your pants. You let out a low chuckle.

“What?” He cracks open an eye.

“You know they said weed slows people’s movement?” You quip, tapping your fingers provocatively over his, a sultry tone in your voice.

“Oh,” Jake’s eyes darkens, the familiar devious smile shine through his relaxed features.

“Now, those are fighting words, doll. You wanna test them out?”

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

[hallow-witxh]

So you want to make permanent runes?

Look no further; I gotchu. Runes are great tools. They can protect, defend, enhance, and so much more. They're genuinely one of my favorite things to use in my craft because they're easy, can be as simple or complicated as you want them to be, and are effective. However, as much as I like drawing or painting them onto things, I sometimes want something a little more... permanent. Something I could hang in front of my window or paste/glue onto the front of a book. That's why I make and use salt dough. It's simple, it's fun, it's family-friendly, and it dries really well. You can even color it with food coloring or add in herbs. You can do anything with it! So, without further blabbing, here's my recipe for salt dough:

WHAT YOU'LL NEED:

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 cup table salt

3/4 cup to 1 cup water

Parchment paper

Baking sheet

An oven

Optional: rolling pin

Optional: thread/ribbon

Optional: dried herbs

Optional: food coloring

WHAT YOU'LL DO:

Preheat your oven to 225F (107-ishC).

Optional: Mix your dried herbs into your salt or flour.

Stir your flour and salt together.

Optional: To color your salt dough, stir your food coloring into water before you mix it with the dry stuff. Ensure it's very saturated because it will lighten considerably with the 3 cups of dry ingredients.

Add in 3/4 cup of water and mix. If the dough is too dry, slowly add in up to 1/4 cup more of water until it's kneadable.

Turn onto your parchment paper and knead until it's smooth, pliable, and not sticking to your fingers.

Optional: If you want to cut out shapes instead of molding them, flour your rolling pin and roll out the dough to a thickness of roughly 1/4 inch, then carve out your runes with a skewer or knife.

Roll out pieces of dough into 1/4-inch wide cylinders and form them into your rune/s.

Place them on a parchment paper-covered baking sheet and bake them for 1-4 hours or until completely dry. If you make thicker runes, they might take even longer.

Flip them over carefully every hour. If they're still pliable, try again every half hour.

Once they're dry, remove the pan from the oven and let them cool down until completely cool.

Once they're cool, they're done! You can now hang them up with string or ribbon, glue them onto things, paint (acrylic paint only, don't add water), etc. Just don't get them too wet!

As you can see, despite the long instructions, it's quite simple! It's also edible if you bake the flour first, so if a curious toddler tries to stick some into their mouth, it won't hurt them - but they might spit it out and make a mess.

Happy making, and blessed be!

Support your local witch on Ko-Fi!

[pinkchrissysposts]

SUCCESS STORY

Heyyyy girl!! How u doin' ok this is crazyyy like ALOOOT,I'm ON CLOUD 9!!! After you uploaded your last post it was such a motivation for me,I first time in my life got serious😌,which I never was and I persisted for life like heck I flipped every dang thought,did 5 hour saturation and did the list method that's been trending in X,and omgosh I had like 10 things on my list half of them manifested I just 4 days😭😭. So I wrote that I'll get chicken and smoked pork stew(a delicacy in our tribe) and I had it 3 days straight for dinner and we've been eating chicken everyday for dinner(I'm a picky eater so it's like heaven),my family accepted me after i came out,I gained 4kg in one day😭,my dandruff problem have reduced and I've been feeling less constipated,also manifested money for my grandma's chemotherapy,along with that we won a lottery and my father is gonna start a business with it😭😭,so on. I'm so thankful for your post,I wish I persisted sooner maybe I would've been enjoying a trip in Bali😌it's going next on my list.

Also can be your gayfairy anon🧚🏻‍♂️

AYYYY I MANIFESTED A GAY ANON🎀SURE LOVE YOU CAN DEFINITELY BE MY ANON AND I LOVE YOUR SUCCESS STORY,THE LIST METHOD IS CHEF KISSED love it💓expecting more success stories like this from others aswell