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a/n: im so sorry if these head canons are mis-characterizing..its my first time writing 4 sukuna and i haven’t written properly in months :cc
when sukuna first saw you, he felt a weird pang in his chest. after that day, he spent weeks upon weeks writing poems—sending off to your village just so he’d get permission to marry you. it was especially hard with him being the kind of curses.
whenever you’re away, sukuna takes the time to write such intricate and detailed letters—describing how much he misses you and how it feels like hell being away from you for so long.
he finds your presence extremely calming. especially your voice and touch.
sukuna notices the littlest things, even if he doesn’t say it out loud. he’ll take note of your favorite meals, how sometimes you’ll attend to the children in your village when you had the chance.
he’ll get uruame to buy you the prettiest and best quality silk just so you could look your best. he won’t say it outright that you look beautiful so he’ll just stare wordlessly for a moment before a gruff, “you look..presentable.”
he’s more so an act of service husband rather than one who uses his words. he’ll sometimes pluck flowers for you from the garden and if not, he’s usually watching you pluck them. sometimes he’ll (rarely) apologize to you—whether it’s a poem, letter or even little notes placed around the estate where only you can find them.
sukuna learnt how to brush your exceptionally long hair just because he didn’t want anyone else touching it. and even so, he still doesn’t do it himself.
he’s extremely possessive though and hates it when people get too close. his lower hands will immediately wrap around your waist like some sort of snake.
even after being encouraged to have more than one wife, sukuna declined—in rather brash, unreasonable ways which always ended in blood shed.
he hates seeing you cry, even though most times it is his fault, but when it isn’t, the person who made you cry is obliterated.
he allows you to fix him up, whether it’s you tugging at his kimono sleeves, brushing his hair,checking for blood or (non-existent)wounds . it brings him a sort of peace even if only for a brief moment.
don’t feed my work into ai, repost or claim as your own. cz it’s lacie’s fic :cc
"love, no... don't go," nanami rasped, voice low still laced with sleep. his breath tickled the back of your neck as he spoke. the hold of his hand around your waist was somehow tighter, even after when you thought you couldn't possibly get any closer than this; your back on his chest without any space in between.
"let me gooo, i want to make my coffee," you whined softly, the tone made it apparent that you couldn't hold a smile at the sight of your usual collected man being so clingy. provoking him further, you once more tried to release the grasp of his hand on your stomach. the man responded with a disapproving grunt, the vibration from his lips against your skin made you shiver.
"stay, please. i'll make it for you later," he pleaded, trailing lazy kisses along your shoulder blade in hope to get you stay in bed, going as far as bringing his leg over both of yours, practically keeping you in his embrace. you chuckled.
"but i want it now," you replied, yet despite those words you couldn't help but put your hand on his cheek, seeing how the blond nuzzled closer to it, chasing the contact like a cat basking under the attention.
"not yet," he murmured, doubling down by gently turning you over, bringing you closer as you rested your head on his chest. you caved under his relentless touch, both his arms folded snugly behind your back. nanami wore a satisfied smile, like he just achieved something great. "i need another hour of this. of you."
"didn't know i'll be held hostage in some mornings when i went into this marriage," you teased, the comfort of his warm hug made you abandon the scheme you never planned to follow through. your fingers made their way to draw random patterns on the navy shirt he was wearing.
he caught your digits, planting a soft kiss at the back of your hand, "and you promised to accept me as i am in your vow, so i'm afraid you'll have to put up with this for the rest of your life."
a/n: im so sorry if these head canons are mis-characterizing..its my first time writing 4 sukuna and i haven’t written properly in months :cc
when sukuna first saw you, he felt a weird pang in his chest. after that day, he spent weeks upon weeks writing poems—sending off to your village just so he’d get permission to marry you. it was especially hard with him being the kind of curses.
whenever you’re away, sukuna takes the time to write such intricate and detailed letters—describing how much he misses you and how it feels like hell being away from you for so long.
he finds your presence extremely calming. especially your voice and touch.
sukuna notices the littlest things, even if he doesn’t say it out loud. he’ll take note of your favorite meals, how sometimes you’ll attend to the children in your village when you had the chance.
he’ll get uruame to buy you the prettiest and best quality silk just so you could look your best. he won’t say it outright that you look beautiful so he’ll just stare wordlessly for a moment before a gruff, “you look..presentable.”
he’s more so an act of service husband rather than one who uses his words. he’ll sometimes pluck flowers for you from the garden and if not, he’s usually watching you pluck them. sometimes he’ll (rarely) apologize to you—whether it’s a poem, letter or even little notes placed around the estate where only you can find them.
sukuna learnt how to brush your exceptionally long hair just because he didn’t want anyone else touching it. and even so, he still doesn’t do it himself.
he’s extremely possessive though and hates it when people get too close. his lower hands will immediately wrap around your waist like some sort of snake.
even after being encouraged to have more than one wife, sukuna declined—in rather brash, unreasonable ways which always ended in blood shed.
he hates seeing you cry, even though most times it is his fault, but when it isn’t, the person who made you cry is obliterated.
he allows you to fix him up, whether it’s you tugging at his kimono sleeves, brushing his hair,checking for blood or (non-existent)wounds . it brings him a sort of peace even if only for a brief moment.
don’t feed my work into ai, repost or claim as your own. cz it’s lacie’s fic :cc
aabi's note: happy summer !! in honor of this special summer (it's totallyy special because world cup is being co-hosted in my country), i'm hosting a thirty-day summer themed writing event that will span throughout july and perhaps august if it takes me too long to write LOL. atm, the characters i'll be writing about are only limited to bllk characters unless i maybee update. hope you guys enjoy this, and i love love LOVE you guys! ♡
rules: go ahead and request (in the comments or in my inbox) for any of ur bllk favs to be added to the days open requests!
🌊 one. summer blues ; various (character requests: open)
˗ˏˋ what do they do when their oh-so pretty partner is feeling depressed during the most bright time of the year ♡.ᐟ
🌺 two. heatwaves ; s. nagi
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — the heat is overwhelming, but nagi can't seem to stop clinging on to you ♡.ᐟ
🍍 three. bbq ; s. barou
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — every summer, barou has an annual bbq, and as his partner, of course you're invited ♡.ᐟ
🐚 four. summer bucket list ; various (character requests: open)
˗ˏˋ participating in the summer activities you guys have been dying to do ♡.ᐟ
🥥 five. vacation shyt ; various (character requests: open)
˗ˏˋ you spot a fine shyt during your summer vacation ♡.ᐟ
🌸 six. water fight ; m. bachira
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — it's hot, but do not fret, because bachira has the best ever solution to this problem ♡.ᐟ
🌊 seven. beach rescue ; g. gagamaru
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — not all heroes wear capes. some of them are eccentric odd balls ♡.ᐟ
🌺 eight. picnic date ; various (characer requests: open)
˗ˏˋ what could be better than a picnic date during the summer with your beloved boyfriend ♡.ᐟ
🍍 nine. cottage by the coast ; r. mikage
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — reo takes you on an adventurous summer trip to one of his many cottages ♡.ᐟ
🐚 ten. extra credit ; e. otoya
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — just as you thought summer would be boring because of summer school, a mischievous and flirtatious boy in your classes unapologetically inserts himself into your life ♡.ᐟ
🥥 eleven. summer arc ; r. kunigami (post wc)
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — you take advantage of the free summer program at the gym, and the mysterious orange-haired dude at your gym ♡.ᐟ
🌸 twelve. out in the wild ; o. aiku
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — agreeing to go camping with infamous oliver aiku completely changed your relationship with him ♡.ᐟ
🌊 thirteen. colorful confessions ; r. itoshi
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — underneath the fireworks, rin pours out his heart to you ♡.ᐟ
🌺 fourteen. caught under the storm ; various (character requests: open)
˗ˏˋ your outdoor plans with your boyfriend are nearly ruined because of an unexpected storm. ♡.ᐟ
🍍 fifteen. fan expo ; i. nikko
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — a fun day being geeked out with your boyfriend ♡.ᐟ
🐚 sixteen. late nights in the middle of june ; s. nagi & y. hiori (seperate)
˗ˏˋ school is over and gaming till odd hours during the night with your boyfriend is on ♡.ᐟ
🥥 seventeen. cotton candy kisses ; m. kaiser
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — kaiser has the day off, so he takes you to a festival ♡.ᐟ
🌸 eighteen. chase the light ; m. bachira
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — bachira is filled with never-ending surprises, and this time, he's chasing fireflies ♡.ᐟ
🌊 nineteen. lemonade stand ; m. kaiser
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — to get along, you and kaiser are, unfortunately, forced to sell lemonade together ♡.ᐟ
🌺 twenty. the bed is mine ; t. karasu
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — after years of avoided interactions, you and your childhood best friend end up unexpectedly sharing the same hotel room on a trip ♡.ᐟ
🍍 twenty-one. karaoke ; various (character requests: open)
˗ˏˋ you and your boyfriend go on a karaoke date ♡.ᐟ
🐚 twenty-two. nature's makeup ; h. chigiri
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — your boyfriend does your makeup, except he does it without any actual makeup products ♡.ᐟ
🥥 twenty-three. power outage ; various (character requests: open // pre-wc kunigami)
˗ˏˋ the unpredictable weather cursed you and your boyfriend with a power outage, so you two find a way to cope with the boredom ♡.ᐟ
🌸 twenty-four. fishing ; various (character requests: open)
˗ˏˋ your boyfriend never beats the dad-in-a-young-man's-body allegations ♡.ᐟ
🌊 twenty-five. truth or dare ; m. kaiser
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — an innocent game at a function ended up with you having to date kaiser for a week because of a stupid dare ♡.ᐟ
🌺 twenty-six. stay a little longer ; s. nagi
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — nagi can't fathom a summer without you, so he does what he was to do for you to remain with him ♡.ᐟ
🍍 twenty-seven. accidents happen ; various (character requests: open)
˗ˏˋ the mistakes they accidentally make during your summer outings ♡.ᐟ
🐚 twenty-eight. the last train home ; various (character requests: open)
˗ˏˋ you and your boyfriend miss the last train home and to your luck, you have a curfew ♡.ᐟ
🥥 twenty-nine. ocean eyes ; y. isagi
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — you've always found isagi's eyes to resemble the ocean and there do you find yourself tangled in a romantic crisis with him ♡.ᐟ
🌸 thirty. "see you next summer" ; s. itoshi
˗ˏˋ (oneshot) — you visit sae in spain every summer, but this summer happens to be different ♡.ᐟ
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀BEHIND THE SCENES .ᐣ ellie visits you on your shift at the local seedy strip club...but then she sees a guy feeling up ALL up on you. and she doesn't appreciate that at all. so she beats the the shit out of the guy and she takes you back home to teach you a lesson . (g!p!feral wife!ellie x poc!stripper!reader)
YOU HAVE REACHED ELLIE'S VOICEMAIL BOX. LEAVE A MESSAGE? unwanted groping wlw jealous n possessive ellie bow nipple clamps bdsm men being mentioned alcohol and drugs dumbification praise g!p ellie spanking & marking degradation sub!reader
HEARTSHAPED DOLLAR BILLS ﹒﹒ SUPERSC★R BY ADELA. & P★RNSTAR BY NESSA BARRETT & DIRTY LITTLE SECRET BY NESSA BARRETT & DAYWALKER! BY MACHINE GUN KELLY (YOU MUST LISTEN TO ALL FOUR IN ORDER.)
the sticky-floored haze of sugar’s throbbed around you like a fever dream. cheap perfume, spilled whiskey, and the electric crackle of desperation hung thick in the air.
you swayed on the dimly lit stage, skin slick under the kaleidoscope of neon green, purple, a sickly red that made the dollar bills tucked into your garter look like bruised petals.
the bass from some distorted synth-pop track vibrated up through the worn soles of your heels, right into your bones.
superscar, maybe. or something with a grinding, relentless beat that matched the ache starting low in your back. your shift was almost over, the clock above the bar crawling toward 3 am.
you were just going through the motions now, hips rolling on autopilot, a vacant smile painted on for the handful of half-drunk men still slumped at the tables.
you were tired. bone-tired. thinking only of the bath you’d run later, the soft bed, and maybe, if luck was real, the warm, familiar weight of your wife waiting for you.
ellie wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. she hated sugar’s. hated the way the men looked at you, like you were meat on display.
she absolutely hated the sour smell, the desperation.
but she’d called earlier, her voice rough and tight over the phone, saying she was coming by after her patrol shift ended. "jus’ wanna see ya, baby," she’d rasped. "make sure you’re breathin’." you’d told her not to bother, that it was dead, that you’d be home soon.
but ellie williams didn’t take orders. especially not from her wife.
so when the heavy fire door near the backstage area creaked open, letting in a gust of cool, damp night air that cut through the club’s stale heat, you knew. a ripple went through the tired atmosphere.
men straightened slightly in their chairs. the bouncer, big tommy, shifted his weight. and you felt it.
a sudden, electric awareness pricking the back of your neck, sharper than the stage lights. you didn’t need to turn to see her.
you felt her presence like a physical pressure change. ellie stood just inside the doorway, backlit by the streetlamp outside.
her patrol jacket was zipped high, her auburn hair tucked under a worn beanie, but her posture screamed predator scanning her territory. her eyes, narrowed and flinty in the gloom, locked onto you on the stage.
a slow, possessive smirk touched her lips, gone almost before it formed. her candy. on display.
you tried to catch her eye, to send a silent plea, almost done, baby, please wait. but then fingers, thick and damp with sweat, closed around your bare waist from behind.
you flinched, the practiced smile freezing on your face. it was chuck, a regular. smelled like stale beer and desperation. "hey there, sugarplum," he slurred, his breath hot and sour against your ear.
his other hand, clumsy and greedy, slid up your thigh, under the flimsy fringe of your skirt, groping for the curve of your ass. "you look mighty lonely up here all by yourself. why don’tcha come sit on daddy’s lap for a real tip, huh?" his fingers dug in, possessive and crude, squeezing flesh meant only for ellie’s hands.
panic, cold and sharp, lanced through you. you tried to twist away, your voice a thin, professional protest lost in the thumping music. "chuck, please—"
it happened faster than a rattlesnake strike. one second, ellie was a shadow by the door. the next, she was a blur of coiled fury crossing the floor.
you saw the exact moment her gaze landed on chuck’s hand disappearing under your skirt. saw the pale green in her eyes go flat and dead, like winter ice over a deep, dark well. the possessive smirk vanished, replaced by something feral, utterly terrifying.
she didn’t yell. didn’t make a sound. just moved. her fist connected with the side of chuck’s head with a sickening, wet crack that cut through the music.
he went down like a sack of wet grain, sprawling off the low stage platform onto the sticky floor. ellie didn’t stop.
she was on him before he could groan, straddling his chest, her fists pistoning down. left, right, left, each impact a brutal, meaty thud. "keep your hands off my girl." she snarled, the words guttural, barely human.
"you filthy fuckin' maggot. you don’t touch her." blood bloomed on chuck’s face, dark and slick under the colored lights.
big tommy started forward, but one look from ellie, a flash of bared teeth, eyes pure murder. stopped him cold. the few other patrons shrank back, suddenly finding their drinks fascinating.
it was over in maybe ten seconds. chuck was a whimpering, bloody mess on the floor. ellie rose off him, breathing hard, knuckles split and glistening.
she didn’t spare him another glance. her eyes, still blazing with that unholy fire, snapped to you. you stood frozen on the stage, trembling, the music still thumping absurdly around the sudden violence.
ellie vaulted onto the low platform, her boots landing solidly beside you. the scent of her leather, gun oil, sweat, and raw, unleashed fury enveloped you.
she grabbed your upper arm, her grip like iron, hauling you off the stage before you could even think.
"shift’s over," she growled, low and dangerous, dragging you towards the back door. her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried, silencing the last dregs of the club’s noise. "you’re comin’ home. now."
the cold night air hit you like a slap as she shoved you out the fire exit into the grimy alley behind sugar’s. the sudden quiet was jarring, broken only by the distant wail of a siren and your own ragged breathing.
ellie didn’t let go. she marched you towards her beat-up truck parked under a flickering light, her strides long and punishing.
you stumbled, the cheap heels treacherous on the uneven asphalt. "ellie—" you gasped, fear and something else. a treacherous, unwelcome heat coiling in your belly.
"shut it," she snapped, yanking the passenger door open. she didn’t help you in. she practically threw you onto the cracked vinyl seat.
the door slammed shut with finality. she rounded the truck, got in, slammed her door harder. the engine roared to life, a raw, angry sound in the quiet alley. she peeled out, tires squealing on the wet pavement, leaving sugar’s and the whimpering chuck far behind.
the truck was thick with her rage, a physical thing that pressed against your skin. she drove fast, jaw clenched, knuckles white on the steering wheel, the split skin oozing a little blood that she didn’t seem to notice.
the small house you shared felt cavernous and cold when she finally pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. she got out, came around, yanked your door open before you could move.
"out," she commanded. you scrambled out, your legs shaky. she didn’t touch you again until you were inside, the door locked firmly behind you. the familiar scent of home. old wood, coffee, ellie’s leather jacket was suddenly suffocating under the weight of her fury.
she turned then, in the small, dimly lit living room. the only light came from a single lamp, casting long, menacing shadows. she looked at you, really looked at you, her gaze raking over the cheap glitter on your cheeks, the flimsy costume, the places chuck’s sweaty fingers had touched.
her expression wasn’t just angry. it was wounded. possessive. deeply, terrifyingly aroused.
"that little display back there?" she began, her voice a low, dangerous rasp, thick with that western drawl turned venomous. "that was for him. what comes next, darlin’?" she took a slow, deliberate step towards you. "that’s for you." another step.
you backed up instinctively, hitting the edge of the worn sofa. "you let him put his fuckin' hands on you." her voice dropped, becoming almost silky, but the threat underneath was razor-sharp. "you stood there in that cheap glitter, shakin' that sweet ass for every lowlife with a dollar, lettin' 'em look. lettin' 'em want." she was right in front of you now, her heat radiating, the scent of violence and leather overwhelming.
"you belong to me. every fuckin' inch." her hand shot out, not to hit, but to grab your chin, forcing your head up so you had to meet her burning gaze. "looks like my wife forgot who owns this pretty little body. time for a real firm reminder."
she didn’t ask. she took. her mouth crashed down on yours, not a kiss but a claiming. savage, possessive, bruising.
her tongue forced its way past your lips, tasting of blood and fury and an iron will. you moaned, a helpless, broken sound, into her mouth.
her hands were everywhere. ripping at the flimsy straps of your top, shoving the skirt down your hips. the cheap fabric tore easily under her rough handling.
she didn’t undress you; she stripped you, leaving you bare and shivering in the lamplight amidst the puddle of glitter and sequins on the floor.
her calloused palms scraped over your skin, mapping territory she deemed hers alone, her touch branding where chuck’s had defiled.
"on your knees," she ordered, her voice thick with lust and barely controlled rage. she didn’t push you down; the command itself was a force.
you sank to the worn rug, the rough fibers scratching your knees, your eyes level with the prominent bulge straining against the worn fabric of her patrol pants.
the thick outline of her cock was unmistakable, heavy and demanding even through the layers. the sight sent a jolt of pure, liquid heat straight to your core, shame and desire twisting together.
she unbuckled her belt with quick, efficient movements, the leather rasping loud in the tense silence. the button popped, the zipper hissed down, and she shoved her pants and boxers just low enough to free herself.
her cock sprang out, thick, flushed, and already dripping at the tip, glistening in the low light. the musky scent of her arousal filled the space between you, primal and undeniable.
"open," she growled, her hand tangling roughly in your hair, not gentle, not guiding, but forcing. she tilted your head back, exposing your throat. "wide. you wanna be everybody’s candy? taste what’s really sweet. what’s yours."
she didn’t wait for compliance. she shoved the swollen head past your lips, the thick heat and salt-tang of her pre-cum hitting your tongue.
you gagged reflexively as she pushed deeper, the stretch intense, filling your mouth, bumping the back of your throat. "suck," she commanded, her hips rocking forward, fucking your face with short, brutal thrusts. "suck it like you mean it, like you want it. show me you know who this cock belongs to."
tears stung your eyes, your jaw aching, but the obscene wet sounds, the feel of her hardness sliding over your tongue, the sheer ownership in her thrusts… it sent waves of dizzying submission crashing through you.
you hollowed your cheeks, trying to take her deeper, bobbing your head clumsily, driven by a desperate need to please, to appease the storm in her eyes.
she watched you, her breathing harsh, her grip in your hair unrelenting, her gaze a dark fire. "that’s it, baby," she rasped, a dark thread of praise weaving through the degradation. "take your wife’s cock. take it all. show me you’re mine."
after a few punishing minutes, she pulled out with a slick pop, leaving your lips swollen, chin wet with spit. "up," she ordered, hauling you to your feet by your hair, making you yelp.
she spun you around roughly, bending you over the arm of the sofa, your bare ass presented to her. the cool air hit your exposed skin, making you shiver. you felt exposed, vulnerable, utterly at her mercy.
"you let him touch you here?" she snarled, her palm connecting with your left ass cheek in a sharp, stinging crack that echoed in the room. the pain was bright, shocking, followed instantly by a spreading heat.
"my ass," she declared, landing another hard slap on the other cheek. crack! "my thighs." crack!
her hand rained down, not rhythmically, but with focused, brutal intent, each smack lighting a fresh fire on your skin, turning the flesh a hot, throbbing pink. "my pretty little cunt," she hissed, punctuating the word with a particularly vicious slap that made you cry out, your legs trembling.
the pain was intense, sharp, but beneath it bloomed a deep, aching arousal, a wetness gathering between your legs that shamed and excited you.
the spanking wasn’t just punishment; it was reclamation. she was marking you, branding you hers, erasing the memory of the club, of chuck’s hands, with her own.
when your ass was thoroughly warmed, stinging and flushed, she paused. you heard the rustle of her pocket, then the cold, hard click of metal.
before you could react, she pinched one of your tender nipples hard, making you gasp. then came the sudden, sharp bite of the bow-shaped nipple clamp snapping shut.
the intense pressure, bordering on pain, stole your breath. a whimper escaped you. then the other nipple received the same treatment.
the twin points of intense sensation radiated through your chest, a constant, demanding reminder of her control. she leaned over your back, her cock pressing against your punished ass, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.
"pretty," she murmured, her voice a low, sultry rumble now, the fury momentarily banked into something hotter, darker.
her fingers trailed down your spine, over the curve of your burning ass, then dipped lower, through your slick folds.
you were drenched, embarrassingly wet, your arousal thick and fragrant. "all marked up. all clamped up. all wet for me." she gathered your wetness, then pushed two fingers inside you without warning, curling them ruthlessly. "mine," she breathed against your neck as her fingers found that sweet spot deep inside, rubbing hard. "say it."
"y-yours!" you gasped, arching back against her hand, the dual sensations of the clamps biting and her fingers stroking that perfect spot inside sending white-hot sparks behind your eyelids. "only yours, ellie!"
"damn right," she growled. she withdrew her fingers, slick and glistening, and you whimpered at the loss. you heard the rustle of clothing, the slick sound of her spitting into her palm, then the thick, blunt head of her cock pressed against your soaked entrance.
no preamble. no gentleness. just pure, feral possession. she slammed into you in one deep, brutal thrust that punched the air from your lungs and drove you hard into the sofa arm.
she was thick, stretching you exquisitely, filling you completely, the force of her entry a physical declaration. "fuck!" she groaned, her hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you impaled as she bottomed out. "fuck, that cunt… made for this. made for me."
then she moved. hard, deep, punishing strokes that rocked your entire body forward with each thrust. the clamps jingled faintly with the force, sending fresh zings of sensation through your nipples.
the burning in your ass flared with every impact. she fucked you like she fought. relentless, dominant, pouring every ounce of her jealousy, her rage, her terrifying love into the brutal rhythm.
the wet, slapping sounds of her hips meeting your ass filled the room, mingling with your choked moans and her guttural growls. "take it," she snarled, her breath hot on your shoulder, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "take my cock, you greedy little slut. you wanted attention? you got it. you wanted hands on you? here they are."
one hand slid around your front, fingers finding your clit, rubbing hard, fast circles that matched the punishing pace of her thrusts. "this what you needed, huh? needed your wife to beat a man senseless and then fuck you stupid to remind you who you belong to?"
the overload was immense. the deep, relentless stretch inside, the sharp bite of the clamps, the rough friction on your clit, the stinging heat of your spanked ass, the sheer force of her possession, it all coalesced into a white-hot pressure building at your core.
you were babbling, mindless sounds, "ellie! please! yours! so good! so full!" tears streamed down your face, a cocktail of pain, overstimulation, and sheer, mind-melting ecstasy.
"gonna cum," she gritted out, her thrusts becoming even harder, faster, losing rhythm, just pure, driving need. "gonna fill this pretty cunt up. mark you inside too. make damn sure you remember." her fingers on your clit pressed harder, the circles relentless. "cum with me, baby. come on my cock like the good little wife you are. show me."
it hit you like a freight train. your back arched violently, a silent scream tearing from your throat as your cunt clenched around her invading length in fierce, rhythmic spasms. the world dissolved into pure sensation.
the blinding white heat of your orgasm, the brutal fullness of her cock, the sharp bite of the clamps, the rough grip of her hands.
you felt her stiffen above you, a guttural roar tearing from her chest as her hips slammed home one final time, buried to the hilt. you felt the hot, thick pulse of her release deep inside you, flooding you, claiming you in the most intimate way possible.
she held herself there, grinding deep, milking every last drop into your clenching heat as your own orgasm slowly ebbed, leaving you trembling, boneless, utterly spent.
she stayed buried inside you for a long moment, her forehead resting between your shoulder blades, her breathing ragged against your sweat-slicked skin.
the only sounds were the frantic hammering of your own heart and her slowing breaths. slowly, carefully, she withdrew, a soft groan escaping you both at the loss.
she reached around and gently, almost tenderly, released the nipple clamps. the rush of blood back to the tender peaks was its own sharp, sweet agony.
she turned you around, your legs too weak to hold you, and caught you as you slumped against her.
she sank onto the sofa, pulling you onto her lap, cradling you against her chest. her arms wrapped around you, tight, possessive, but no longer violent.
her hand smoothed over your hair, your back, over the hot, marked skin of your ass.
"shhh, baby," she murmured, her voice rough but soft now, the storm passed, leaving only a deep, satisfied exhaustion and that unwavering possessiveness.
her lips brushed your temple. "shhh. you did so good. took it so good for me." she held you close, her fingers tracing the faint bruises already blooming on your hips, the red marks on your ass.
"mine," she whispered, the word a vow, a brand, a promise. "all mine. ain’t no stage. ain’t no other hands. jus’ this." she kissed the top of your head, the scent of sex and sweat and ellie enveloping you.
"jus’ us. always." her hand drifted down, cupping your sore, well-used sex, feeling her cum seep out, mixing with your own juices.
"marked inside and out," she breathed, a dark satisfaction in her tone. "good girl. my good girl." the world narrowed to the circle of her arms, the thud of her heart under your ear.
the deep, aching fullness between your legs where her claim pulsed warm and heavy. lesson learned. branded. owned.
𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓 ﹕ hey guys, just wanted to post this just because, you don't have to like it but don't send me hate, okay bye . . .
he / they adult 2000's baby feburary aquarius fanfic writer caitlyn kiramman's girl introvert never getting laid s.c always daydreaming about something always smells like something sweet doomed yuri lover transmasc girlkisser taken by my special someone .
⠀I CAN TAKE YOU TO THE FIRST, SECOND, THIRD FLOOR .ᐟ ABOUT ME & ARCHIVE & TAGLIST
ARRIVEDERCI, AU REVOIR, FORGIVE MY FRENCH BUT FUCK YOU TA-TA.ᐟ
@phaelusion on tumblr, pinterest and discord ・ spotify
THAT BOY IS CORRUPT, COULD YOU RAISE HIM TO LOVE ME MAYBE .ᐣ
if we have nothing in common, "older men, younger girl" accs, older men like (30+), blank blogs, haters, homophobes, racists, misogynists, zionists, ableists, body shamers, older men, people who just hate for a living and have no job whatsoever, radfems, T.R.A.S.H, anything in that category— just don’t interact pretty please.
how thriller!michael acts around assistant!reader due to his little crush ᢉ𐭩 nothing but fluff and a very obvious crush – wc 0.3k , shelf
thriller!michael — who needs to be near you at all times. during meetings? sitting right beside you. during breaks while filming short films? hanging around where you are. he’ll always be sure to subtly touch your hand when you give him a glass of water, or bump his knee against yours while sitting next to you.
thriller!michael — who will always ask for your opinion on literally anything. you like to watch him dance when you have nothing else to do. “does this look right?” “move my hand to where you think it looks better.” or when he’s about to go on stage to perform. “fix my makeup for me, please?” “i like the way my hair does whatever it’s doing right now. do you?”
thriller!michael — who loves to tease you. ding dong ditching your hotel room, knocking before escaping down the hallway in a fit of giggles. playing with your hair, fluffing the crown or flipping a piece over to the wrong side. you shoo him off with soft laughter and warm cheeks, making him grin sheepishly.
thriller!michael — who likes to show off for you. when you’re in the recording booth, just watching, he’ll lock eyes with you while singing. he’s a joker, obviously, but for some reason he’s even funnier when you’re around. he looks at you when he laughs, liking the way your eyes light up and your face brightens.
thriller!michael — who gets very shy when you talk to him. even though he tries to pretend that he’s confident around you, he’ll always manage to stumble over his words or say something embarrassing. he rubs the back of his neck shyly as you giggle at him, feeling his cheeks burn.
thriller!michael — who enjoys giving you little playful compliments every now and then. “i like what you’ve done with your hair today.” “i like that colour on you, it’s stunning.” “you have really beautiful hands, i’ve just noticed.” very random, yet flustering compliments. you give a shy smile, managing a quiet ‘thank you’ before glancing away.
yes this is a repost but i’ve returned and rebranded! headcannons are so fun to write, should i do more?
update THREE!! had two board exams last week and this week (which was today)
And this week and next week is revision week for end of year exams…but my grades are UPP there so far. But I’ve forgotten how to write so it is gonna take awhile until I post another fanfic with confidence ☹️☹️🤍 but I missed u guys smmm!!! (I hope u guys miss me too.)
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Ella didn't start on anyone with an ed they started on her. They kept calling her fat when she was anorexic after she was 2 years clean. They made her have to go hospital for not eating. She didn't do anything wrong
oh my god?? that’s so sad wtf why would anybody do that ?? and if that’s the case why are other ppl trying to make her look bad? that’s such weird behavior..
nagi was lazy. you knew that. reo knew that. everyone knew that.
so of course, you weren’t surprised when nagi refused to help you with the dishes. “that’s too much of a hassle…” he mumbled from his bed, game console in hand. “playing zelda. ‘m busy.”
you sighed. “the dishes aren’t going to wash themselves, nagi. then our entire place is going to smell like shit, and we won’t be able to use the sink. c’mon, nagi, i always do the dishes. can you do it just this once?”
“you sound like maid barou right now. it’s too much of a hassle.” nagi retorted. why was he so tired anyway? he played soccer with reo maybe once or twice a week, he lazed around all day and just played video games.
“sei, please.”
nagi froze, sitting up almost immediately. “alright, alright,” he commented, making his way to the sink and rolling up to sink. “just let me play in peace after i’m done, m’kay?” he drawled.
“thanks, sei. love you.” you didn’t point it out, but a pink hue dusted his cheeks as he washed the dishes.
“nagi, do i look good?” you asked, stepping out of the changing room. nagi sat on a plush chair, console stuck in his hand. “nagi!”
“huh? oh, you look fine. let’s go.” he replied, not even looking at you. you rolled your eyes, snatching his console. “that was uncalled for.” he gave you a deadpan look.
“sei, babe, how do i look?” you asked again. he blinked a few times, before his eyes widened just a few degrees.
“you look great.” he blurted. “let’s get one of every color.” nagi stood up, before practically falling on you, wrapping his arms around you like a koala. “yeah, you should totally get this.”
“you sounded like reo just now.”
“mmmm, yeah, but you’d never call reo something so cute…” he replied sleepily. “angel, let’s just get this and go home, m’kay? i wanna nap. with you.”
“nagi, can you please stay for just 5 more minutes?” you asked, eyes barely open. it was practically the crack of dawn; nagi was usually never awake this early. not unless a certain purple haired rat scolded him again.
“can’t, babe. reo’s gonna get mad again. it’s a hassle to deal with him when he’s pissed off.” nagi slouched, halfway through taking off his shirt. you pouted; you had today off. was it so wrong to want to stay in bed a little longer with your lover?
“sei, can you—“
“you don’t have to ask twice, angel.” he responded immediately, dropping next to you on the bed once more. he slung an arm over you, nuzzling into your neck.
“what about reo?” you asked, stroking his hair tiredly, although a small tug of your lips suggested victory.
“reo can wait. you can too, angel, but i don’t want you too…” nagi was half-asleep already, just from laying down next to you. “and i can’t say no when you call me something so cute.”
“so it’s not a hassle to do things as long as i call you sei?”
“no, never.” he planted a lazy kiss on your shoulder. “it’s only a hassle if i don’t like it. and i like you. a lot. and i like it when you call me that. a lot. so it’s not a hassle.”
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thank you for the tags @pepsipoet, @sturnsbunny, @chrisssiren & @atlassiana 🥰
mornings or nights | gardening or baking | sun or moon | beach or mountains | ice cream or candy | sunny weather or rainy weather | dogs or cats | minimalist or colorful | introvert or extrovert | pancakes or waffles | breakfast for dinner or dinner for breakfast | enemies to lovers or friends to lovers | horror or rom com | coffee or matcha | Netflix/Hulu/etc. or YouTube
nights out or nights in | sweet or salty | chocolate or vanilla | makeup or skincare | camping or hotel | homemade or bought | fairy or mermaid | movies or tv shows | flowers or trees | jeans or skirts | chapstick or lipgloss
mornings or nights | gardening or baking | sun or moon | beach or mountains | ice cream or candy | sunny weather or rainy weather | dogs or cats | minimalist or colorful | introvert or extrovert | pancakes or waffles | breakfast for dinner or dinner for breakfast | enemies to lovers or friends to lovers | horror or rom com | coffee or matcha | Netflix/Hulu/etc. or YouTube
nights out or nights in | sweet or salty | chocolate or vanilla | makeup or skincare | camping or hotel | homemade or bought | fairy or mermaid | movies or tv shows | flowers or trees | jeans or skirts | chapstick or lipgloss
mornings or nights | gardening or baking | sun or moon | beach or mountains I ice cream or candy I sunny weather or rainy weather | dogs or cats | minimalist or colourful l introvert or extrovert | pancakes or waffles | breakfast for dinner or dinner for breakfast I enemies to lovers or friends to lovers I horror or rom com I coffee or matcha I netflix/hulu/etc. or youtube
nights out or nights in | sweet or salty | chocolate or vanilla I makeup or skincare | camping or hotel | homemade or bought | fairy or mermaid | movies or tv shows | flowers or trees | jeans or skirts | chapstick or lipgloss