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bllk-after-dark · 11 months
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intrinsically bound to you.
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pairing. chigiri hyoma x gn!reader
content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, no pronouns or genitalia mentioned for reader, shibari, sub!chigiri, dom!reader, dacryphilia, petnames (use of ‘my love’, ‘baby’, ‘good boy’ and ‘pretty boy’ for chigiri), praise, handjobs, edging, biting (singular instance), mild degradation, teasing, messy orgasm, aftercare routines, overstim mention
word count. 1.5k
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White is such a pretty colour on Hyoma. 
The dress shirt he wore for your first date was a clean, crisp white, the perfect neat polarity to the black trousers and shoes he paired them with. You had spent half the evening staring at the way that the fabric hugged his chest, and how wonderfully such a simple plain hue accented the pink shades of his hair and irises. 
When you moved in together, you became used to the white headband he tucks his hair out of the way with when he performs his nightly skincare routine. It was one you’d bought him previously, novelty dog ears built in that flopped down over the upper hem, and he wore the thing religiously, until the devastating moment that overuse had caused it to fray too far and it had to be relegated to the trash. 
You have found yourself in years since treating him to white accessories wherever you can, in the form of scarves, jackets, gloves, anything you can find that you think will suit him. And, whether subconsciously or not, that same hue finds its way into his everyday wardrobe more frequently than it used to. 
But white looks especially good on Hyoma when it is wrapped across his chest in the form of thick ropes, knotted into a diamond harness that perfectly accentuates just how large his pectorals have gotten lately from his training. His nipples are pert and pink, sensitive against the cool breeze from the fan you’ve set up to maintain the room’s pleasant clemency. Each full breath flexes the ropes, tight but comfortable as they stretch around his chest and rub against the skin.
You’ve strung a heart ladder design up just his left thigh, avoiding the right leg entirely as per his request, and the entrancing way that it presses and shifts against his taut muscles as he kneels for you is more than worth the few hours it took to learn how to tie it. 
Lips full and pouting, Hyoma whines as you admire him, each sweep of your adoring gaze sending chills through his spine and directly to his leaking cock. With his hands behind his back, and that rope very gently secured to the headboard, there is nothing he can do to relieve himself. So instead, he settles for grinding idly into the air, each motion bobbing his length up and down hypnotically, an attempt to bait you into touching him at last. 
“You’re so desperate for me tonight, my love,” you hum in amusement. “Do you want me that badly?”
He nods with vigour, loose strands of cherry hair falling out of the braided bun you’d put it in for him and framing his flushed cheeks. You shuffle closer, kneeling in turn so that you’re both at similar heights, and reach out to swipe them behind his ear again. Hyoma leans into the touch, wide-eyed and hungry for any physical contact he can get. 
“Use your words, baby,” you say, “need you verbal for me for a little longer. Now, do you want me?”
“I do,” he cries, tears brimming up and hanging in fat droplets along his lower lashes. “Want you so bad.”
“Okay, because you’ve been such a good boy for me.”
The tip of his cock is already leaking as you dip down to brush your thumb across the slit and he sobs at the contact, collapsing against you as much as the ropes will allow him. Aimless wet kisses are pressed to your clavicle as you start to move, a torturously slow pace that sends his mind reeling. 
Everything about your handjobs has always been addictive, from the way that you skilfully vary your pressure to the dutiful attention you pay to the head and sack, seeking out every spot that brings him to the edge like it’s nothing to you. But there is something more to it now, tied up like this. Each instinctual movement that Hyoma makes back against you causes the ropes to rub against his skin, a delicious binding friction that encompasses his body and lights each and every nerve aflame. 
A hitch in his breath gives away that he is close to his first orgasm of the night, and Hyoma watches you with anguish as your pace slows, as your hand pulls away and slides up his stomach. You hook your thumb under the stretch of rope that runs along the underside of his left pectoral and test that it hasn’t tightened itself under all of his needy squirming. 
“What?” Smiling innocently, you cup his cheek with your palm and press a fleeting kiss to the tip of his nose. “You didn’t think I would let you come that easily, did you? You have such extraordinary stamina, and yet you were about to come so quickly.”
“Don’t tease me,” he pouts, lower lip full and glistening, slick with saliva and red from how hard he had been biting it to keep himself composed.
“Mm, I need more convincing than that, pretty boy.” 
As his high fades, his attitude slips back into place, and Hyoma huffs at you. You’re sure he’d cross his arms too, if he could, just for extra effect. 
Gently, you grab onto the front of the rope harness and tug him towards you, drawing him in close. Against his lips, you declare the terms of his potential release. “Kiss me like you mean it, and I’ll consider letting you come for me.”
Hyoma is all too eager to press against you, tongue lathing desirously against your own. 
One of his strengths had always been his kisses. Deep, impassioned, encompassing, like each and every one is designed to swallow you whole. And whilst he’d do a better job if he could touch you too, if he could cradle the back of your head to provide some extra leverage to kiss you harder, he’s doing well enough as it is. 
At least, if the way that you groan against him when he runs his teeth across your lip is anything to go by, unified with the slow release of the swollen flesh as it catches against his incisor. 
In the meantime, you have returned to his cock, pumping in time with each kiss. He thrusts into your hand in turn shamelessly, trying to chase after the orgasm you had denied from him and take it himself. 
“Was that good enough for you?” he simpers when you pull away, bolstered confidence from your reactions driving him to act more boldly. 
“Of course it was,” you praise sweetly, littering more kisses across his cheeks and up to his temples. “But you were greedy, weren’t you baby? You really couldn’t wait until we were done for me to let you come again, hm? Had to take it all for yourself.”
“I needed you,” Hyoma protests, dipping in to steal a kiss from you. “Need to come so bad.” 
When you do finally let him come for you- though not after edging him a few more times just to put him in his place- he makes such a beautiful mess that you could consider it artistry. And he gets to remind you once more just how good white looks on him. 
“What a pretty mess you’ve made for me,” you croon, stroking Hyoma’s hair tenderly as he comes down from his high. “Let’s get you something to drink, hm?”
You shift and take one of the water bottles you’d left on the bedside, uncapping it and bringing it to his lips. When he is hydrated, you smile kindly, absently running your fingers across the lengths of rope still encasing your lover. 
“Would you like to stop now?” you ask. “We can get cleaned up and cuddle if you want.”
But you’re met with the defiant shaking of Hyoma’s head, and you have to tuck his hair behind his ears for him again when he loosens them from their place. 
“I can keep going,” he insists.
“You want to come more?” you tease, hands roaming through the shapes made by your ropes. “Such an insatiable appetite today.“
“It feels good,” Hyoma confesses, flush returning to his cheeks. “I want to keep going.”
Contemplatively, you hum. It certainly isn’t too late in the evening yet, and your partner looks breathtaking tied up like this for you. 
Surely a few more times won’t hurt. 
“I think,” you begin, sinking down until your mouth is level with his pelvis, sweet smile turning devious as you observe Hyoma with a yearning hunger, “since you’re so enthusiastic for me tonight… I’ll start with making you come so much that you’re begging me to stop.”
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ven. this was uh. only supposed to be like 500 words. whoops <3
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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20% off on our OF!!
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pairing. itoshi sae, itoshi rin x fem!reader
content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, both of you are pornstars, praise kink, written in lowercase
series. part one
itoshi sae. you’re not someone to hook up twice with fellow pornstars and especially not off camera. but sae just has this special something. it makes your pussy gush and your thighs shudder, that sly smirk on his face when he makes you cum for the nth time, with nothing more but a single flick of his fingers. and when he finally goes down on you, face buried between your thighs, slurping noises filling the room— well, no one can blame you for running back to him.
your loyal fans of course notice the sudden increase of collaborations with him, how you cling onto him, nails leaving marks on his back while he wrecks you. you let yourself lose in his arms, mind and body putty in his hands, completely pliant when you’re usually the one in control.
it brings you much more money and while you certainly can’t say no to this, nothing can top the way sae fucks you on and off camera. the fact that thousands of people see how you become nothing more than a moaning mess for the gorgeous man just turns you on even more. you, who’s usually the one taking the lead, riding dicks like a champ, but now you’re nothing more but an empty-head little princess, a good girl for sae.
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itoshi rin. he would’ve never thought the day would come, but here he is. asking you if you want to start an account on onlyfans. he blames it on his horny friends who glimpsed the nudes you sent to rin, immediately hollering something about being the perfect cam girl. rin has to agree, you’re perfect and normally he wouldn’t share you with anyone else, but he knows how you blush and shudder when hearing praise. and isn’t it the highest praise, when strangers pay to see you naked?
your fans pay you and this well, buying nudes and videos of you moaning and whining, desperate for rin to touch you. rarely he shows himself, but when he does, he completely wrecks you, making you sob and cry, a fan favorite.
despite the two of you reluctantly testing the whole thing out, fucking on camera, in the end, it’s how you earn the most money. you don’t know what exactly it is, but seeing all those numbers, the money you earned and the amount of videos and pictures you sold, makes your head spin— it’s addictive, getting absolutely wrecked by the man you love and hearing not only his praise, but the praise of thousands of others.
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anne. i just need a sae in my life…
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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pretty boy.
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pairing. itoshi rin x fem!reader
content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, soft dom!reader, sub!rin, handjob, short work
He’s so pretty like this, flushed cheeks and hazy eyes, tears running down his checks, while small gasps and whimpers leave his mouth. Such a pretty boy he is, just for you, splayed out on the bed, thighs shaking and head thrown back. Bucking his hips, trying to chase more of the pleasure you give him, all while your fingers dance across his stomach and thighs, kneading his muscles and whispering soft praise in the dark room. Moaning your name, begging for more, more pleasure, more praise, more of you. 
Your hand is not enough, softly rubbing his leaking tip with your thumb and slowly moving, too slow, touch too fleeting. It’s not enough and too much, he already came once, but you continue to torture him, milking him dry with nothing but your own hand. 
He begs for your pussy, for you to go faster, fuck him stupid, make him cum. You don’t listen, hypnotized by his flushed face, swollen nipples, his breathy and broken voice. Kneeling next to him, while he continues to sob, you move your body forward, slowly dragging your nails up and up, until you tweak his left nipple again, making him cry out, so close yet still not there. 
He begs and begs, hoarse words filling the room, but you shush him, telling him to wait, to be patient, to be a good boy, a pretty boy. 
Itoshi Rin stares at you with quivering lips and tears in his eyes, his body shuddering and shaking beneath you, when you finally climb onto him, slowly lowering yourself until he’s in you, cumming hard the moment your snug pussy hugs his leaking cock. He fills you up, crying out when you start to move your hips, fucking yourself and he can do nothing but let you, be nothing but a pretty boy for you.
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anne. rin is so just so pretty 🤭
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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wildest fantasies.
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pairing. itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu, nagi seishiro x f!reader
content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, how the top 6 imagine fucking you, dom!character x sub!reader, vary in each installment, some are prevalent than others (oops), written in lowercase
itoshi rin. breeding kink, creampie, degradation, edging, fingering, jealousy, marking, possessive behavior, wall sex
mine is written on your skin with invisible ink. he fumes at a player from his team talking to you, who seems to be having fun when he sees you laugh. he doesn’t experience rage quite often, but that guy is the initial point and gets worse when the poster boy of blue lock strikes up a conversation with you.
“what’s with the silent treatment, rin?” you become frustrated over the lack of dialogue. the entire ride on the way home was tense and he treated you like a ghost. he also feels the same, but for different reasons. as the two of you enter your house, he pins you to the door with both arms above your head and cunt on his knee. you attempt to focus on lust in his eyes as his tongue battles against yours and teeth nips at your throat to leave bruises in its wake.
“craving attention from him out of all people, hm? fucking slut.” you gasp at the sharp friction of his knee against your cunt. he isn’t this rough and riled up, not that you’re complaining. he slips his fingers inside, pumping them in and out very slowly as punishment. “think he can fuck you like this? lukewarm, want him and everyone else to know that you’re mine.”
to prolong this type of behavior, you instill delicious images in his head. “how are you gonna show me off? the hickeys, sure. but what about a ring on my finger? your cum dripped out of me? or perhaps a baby in me?”
he pulls his fingers out when you’re nearing an orgasm, leaving you a whining mess. the impulse to buy a fancy ring with his salary and propose to you live, to fuck you in the locker rooms to see copious amounts of cum staining your underwear, and to fuck you enough to make you pregnant so that damn golden boy can mind his own business — which he’ll gladly make it happen. he rams his cock in you without warning and spends the entire day in the bedroom to make sure it takes.  
“ah, there you are. i had to ask one of your teammates, but we lost track.” he’s back in the stadium, dazed from his daydreaming. you didn’t notice him blanking out as you’re busy geeking out about his plays. “watching a match in-person was so exciting! i get to see you steal a ball by kicking it between another player’s legs and score a goal with a direct shot— is that it? whatever, you’re so cool, rin!”
he shuts you up by kissing you, and everyone in the stadium reacts in a domino effect. the cameras pan to the two of you so it’s on live television, his fans freak out that he’s actually in a relationship, and his teammates — specifically that guy — are in pure disbelief. you wonder why he had done that, but he looks proud so you didn’t pry any further. “there. now the whole world knows.”
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shidou ryusei. anal sex, blowjob, cuckolding, exhibitionism, face fucking, impact play (spanking), shower sex
demon is what everyone refers to him as. known to be vicious in the field, people hate to admit that he’s a damn good player. aside from being skilled at soccer, he’s also skilled at pulling risque acts in the context of yourself — willing to let the whole world know how tight you are. right now he’s fucking you from behind in the shower with hands on the wall and back slightly bent to stabilize yourself from his powerful thrusts.
“shit, you’re even tighter than yesterday!” he howls as his thick and wide cock drags along your walls and slaps your ass multiple times, leaving a red handprint there. this is a position favored by the both of you, and it never gets old. although, you do want to try out other things that you and he can find exciting. what he says afterwards is an adventure you can’t wait to embark on.
“i wonder if eyelashes will agree with me. how about we invite him someday?” you’d like that very much, honored to be acknowledged as a favorite pastime by the best player in japan. for now you want to practice sucking your boyfriend off, so you detach from him and kneel in front of his dick, lapping the bulbous tip with your tongue.
“holy shit, you’re tight here too! fucking hell… i dunno which one i like more but let’s find out, hm?” he shoves his cock deep into your throat and grips your head as he bucks his hips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull at how stimulating it is.
“feeling so fucking good. looking so fucking good, too. i bet you’ll do even better at the shower stalls in the locker rooms. or at a bar. or at an alley. or—” it’s incredible how he manages to talk about his shameless ideas when he’s at the verge of cumming whereas on the other hand you phased out. streams of opaque white gush out past your lips and trickle down your chin. his dick is still hard, meaning he’s ready for another round. his stamina is inhuman, like a demon. but knowing him, he won’t be satisfied until he has tried out every single thing on his growing list.
“can’t believe you took a nap during our bath. was expecting you to be more awake from the bath bomb i bought, but i guess not.” he’s greeted with a sweet peck, eyes fluttering halfway but can see you beaming at him brightly like the lights in the room. “got your towel here. now i have to drain the water, so shoo.”
he wraps his towel around his waist and then observes you unplug the drain. he happens to sneak a peek at the curve of your ass when you bend over to reach it, smug at how he happens to catch wind of how glorious the view is. he startles you by pinching the fat of your cheeks, and you turn to him, completely flustered. “what? want me to do it again?”
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karasu tabito. aftercare, hand holding/kissing, insecurities, loss of virginity, missionary, petnames (baby), praise
sorry is your automatic reply when he hints that he wants to have sex. you’re a virgin; the thought of being unable to satisfy someone, especially one experienced such as himself, is deeply rooted in your head. on the contrary, it’s a huge turn on. since it’s your first time, he wants to make it extra special. it makes him more excited than he should be so he tries to tone it down to not scare you.
he reaches for your face, staring at him like a lost puppy. he smirks at how entranced you are when his fingers slide to your chin then glide over your lips. he kisses you hard, taking your breath away as he gently pushes you down on the bed. he gives you time to breathe while he takes off his shirt. you looking intently on him makes his heart flutter, that his body is for your eyes only.
“i’m okay. you can keep going,” you tell him when he checks up on you. with the slight encouragement of his hand drawing circles on your skin, you take off your shirt as well so he can explore more of your body. the two of you eventually strip yourselves to bareness in the midst of devouring each other with tongue and spit.
“squeeze if you want me to stop.” your hand is intertwined with his, ready to signal for the sake of your safety. he slowly penetrates you, his cock buried to the hilt inside your pussy. he blabbers about how you’re taking him so well, swearing he’ll cum faster than expected. he hooks a leg on his shoulder which allows him to thrust into you harder and deeper. the pitch of your voice rises higher and higher, you pull him toward your mouth to crash your lips against his. you hate how you sound it seems, but rest assured, it tells him that he has done his job right.
“shit, baby. you’re so perfect for me. how is this possible— agh,” he hisses out as he spills inside you. you’ve gone exhausted afterwards, skin sensitive from the caresses on your curves and kisses on your hands. this is what he’d like to happen, but the next time he blinks, you’re lying beside him fully clothed, meaning that the scenario is anything but real.
“tabito? you’re not saying anything.” you avert your gaze from his. you’re ashamed of literally pushing him away, believing that he’ll take offense judging from his silence. “i didn’t mean to do that. it happened so fast that i freaked out. can we start over and… start a little bit slower?”  
“sure. let’s take things slow, then.” he kisses your forehead as a way to reassure you that you haven’t done anything wrong. somehow it makes you bolder, being the one to initiate the kiss while sneaking your hands under his shirt unconsciously. you immediately retract from the sudden move and are about to apologize for acting out of the blue. he cuts off a smile, gesturing you to keep on going. he’s so weak for you, and he’ll do anything to make you happy.
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otoya eita. begging, cunnilingus, mutual masturbation, nipple play, phone sex, toxic relationships (with reader’s ex)
relief washes over him hearing that you broke up with your former significant other through the phone. he never liked them to begin with and doesn’t understand what you see in them. being the good friend he is, he wants what's best for you. yet he decides to remain civil, albeit painfully. though, it’s not as painful as suppressing his sinful thoughts about you crumbling under touch.
“eita? can you do me a favor?” he loves your voice, but you saying his name is his greatest weakness. instead of heading it wirelessly, he’d prefer you moaning it in his ears when he’s railing you into a begging mess. he should feel guilty for harboring these feelings as he promised to play the ‘good friend’ role. but promises are meant to be broken anyway. “can you make me forget about them?”
the lines of friendship blur into indescribable tension. you express your frustration over the shitty quality of your sex life your former partner provided, rambling about how badly you want to be fucked on someone’s mouth. the cries of your nipples and clit aching to be touched causes his cock to strain in his pants. sex isn’t a topic you confide in with your friends, especially your male friends, but now it doesn’t matter. you called him to forget after all.
“to tell you the truth, you’ve been driving me crazy,” he sighs with his head leaned back as he pumps his length. labored breaths and whimpers are heard on your end; it seems you have the same idea. “so you want me to make you forget? what if i tell you i’m jerking off right now, wishing that i was inside that pretty pussy of yours? what about you, wishing that my mouth is there too and on your pretty tits to claim what has been mine in the first place?”
“i’m yours, always yours. please, faster!” your whines become more frequent that he cums on his hand and some on his thighs. he leans against the headboard, catching his breath alongside you. if you’re here, he’d leave more proof that you’re forever his with no room for your ex in your world as it should. yet it’s all white noise. the entire time he has been blanking out, so you were waiting for an eternity for him to say something.
“hello? earth to eita?” he snaps back to reality. the only real thing is the stickiness of his hand that’s covered in cum, so he really has been mindlessly jacking off to your voice. “i asked if you can do me a favor but i think i rather stop by your place to cool off. is it okay if i come over?”
“yeah, sure.” you thank him before hanging up. he tosses his phone to the edge of the bed, contemplating what he has done. never, ever again will he do this and vows to not speak on it. all he can do is to stick being the ‘good friend’ to comfort you through your breakup. he’ll do whatever it takes to prove he’s the better choice. they’ll be the day where you’re all his for the taking.
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yukimiya kenyu. body worship, mirror sex, lap dancing, lingerie, riding, sex toys, strip tease, voyeurism
risk is his middle name. not only taking it to become the top striker in japan, but in the context of having strong urges to impale you on him. it’s confined in his pants, just like how his hands are confined to his sides. he’s restricted to ogle at your body clad in lace lingerie, attempting to tempt him to give into his desires with your alluring expressions.
the lingerie surprise tips him over the edge. he follows your fingers running down your breasts to your clit, agonized by the drag of one of them along the lips back and forth. he grips his seat to the point where he can almost break the bones of his hands. oh how badly he wants you, but being the menace you are, you keep insisting to stay patient until the end of your performance.
“mmm, not yet. keep your eyes on me,” you giggle, lifting his chin to face you with your mouth ghosting over his. you’re enjoying the sight way too much, but how can he also feel the same when you’re torturing him with the sway of your hips on his lap, the flex of your muscles when he glances at the many mirrors around him, and the teasing of your bra straps down past your shoulders? and when you also grind on his bulge along with a vibrator plugging in you which is your source of pleasure instead?
as if his body has a mind of its own, he finds himself dancing with you with an arm wrapped around your waist and the other cradling your head, kissing you with his life. then clothes start to fly off left and right. he yanks out your vibrator decorated with your slick and plunges you onto his throbbing cock, having you seated for his part of the performance. oh how the tables have turned; now you’re the one being tortured, pounded with quick upward thrusts from him.
“now for the grand finale.” despite your protests to slow down, he wants to relish your face and body contorting in pleasure through the mirror beside him. a multitude of thrusts later, he reaches his climax and feels your walls clench to make sure you didn’t miss a single drop. it’s a shame that time goes by so fast, because he sure wants to see your body arch for him over and over again.
“you know, it’s rude to stare without saying anything.” loud noises flood his ears. he’s in the mall on a shopping spree with you to help you pick out new clothes to spice up your wardrobe. although when you mean by ‘spice up’, he doesn’t expect to see you in lace lingerie at the fitting rooms. “so, uh… what do you think?”
he has speculations on whether you may have a hidden agenda to seduce him or just trying it out for fun. but all he do is marvel at how the lingerie fits nicely on your body, making you nervous. an idea pops into his head and whispers into the shell of your ear. “not sure. why don’t you buy and put it on tonight for me so i can see it better, hm?”
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nagi seishiro. bulge kink, cockwarming, size difference (reader is implied to be smaller), somnophilia, spooning
warm is his favorite sensation when he’s curled up with you in bed. his chest is on your back and his left arm hugs your corresponding side while the other engulfs your right hand. his cock throbs inside you which can be seen poking your stomach, making him curse and groan as he places his hand there. the feeling is delicious, addicting even, and he’s hungry for more.
he pants against your neck as he lazily thrusts against your ass, the outline of the bulge moving up and down from what he can feel on his hand. so good, he chokes out in your ear, followed by a string of fucks and moans. that manages to wake you up, having you grab on the sheets from being overwhelmed by the pleasure from behind.
“sei…” his impatience causes your breath to hitch. at that moment you’re losing your damn mind upon his balls coming into contact with your skin. “fill me up…”
as he shushes you to go back to sleep, he kisses the junction of your neck and shoulder and hooks a leg over your waist for better access to pick up the pace to fulfill your wish. “mm, yeah. gonna make you so warm and full of me.”
“hm, sei?” the morning light seeps through the blinds, spotlighting on you who’s sitting up on his bed stretching. for some reason, you press your butt against his groin which is painfully— oh. “um, did you get hard from sleeping with me last night?”
it’s a dream after all. he throws the blanket over his head and turns away from you, refusing to answer as it’ll be bothersome to explain in detail. you dismiss his silence with ‘okay’ and by telling him you have to go to work. when you reach the edge of the bed, he pins you down with his arm around your waist and drags you closer to him.
“stay with me. just a bit longer.” you cave into his whims, deciding to indulge him during then by pulling your pants down to take his huge length. it somehow knocks you out, and he hopes that you’ll forgive him for making you late. but you’re so warm and so good, just like in his dreams.
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vera. ayo, finally i posted something. it’s my first time writing smut and i died inside. as expected: it’s 10% smut, 90% cringe. the top 6 has me in a chokehold and i’m not okay.
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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ARCHANGEL.
an angel of greater than ordinary rank.
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pairing. michael kaiser x fem!reader
content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, heavy christian mythology/theology, sex on sacred ground (church), kaiser is the archangel michael, reader is an altar server, sex on altar, loss of virginity, fingering, missionary & doggy style, not proofread/edited
summary. you've been serving in the st. michael church for many years, a simple duty in your life and yet you pray to him, the patron of the church you serve. and one day, heavenly flesh made mortal, he stands in front of you and asks for a serving.
word count. 3.9k
fallen angel. masterlist
Altar serving was something you do every sunday. Not because you loved it, that has passed a long time ago, when you were still a kid in awe, but because it was a duty and at this point, part of your routine. It was part of your life, born into a christian family that went to church every sunday. Your father has been an altar server too, long before they allowed girls to serve, and now your younger siblings were too. It was tradition, and tradition was not meant to be broken. 
You were one of the eldest in the group, guiding the younger ones through their service, whispering their tasks during the mass. Having almost ten years of altar serving under your belt, you were not only allowed to help prepare and teach the new generation, but also assist the acolyte every sunday.
And while you may not love altar serving, it still brought you peace being here, in the church that has been named after the Archangel Michael. Saint Michael Church, a relatively big one for the small number of people in your commune. An old one too, with the ceilings filled with paintings with angels, but especially Archangel Michael. In fact, this church was the only one with paintings of angels who had other wing colors than white in your country.
This attracted some tourists, but the church was never overrun. It was a shame, then you often let your gaze wander during your servings, with your back straight and hands on your lap, taking in the Archangel Michael with his flaming sword, long blonde hair that takes the color of the sky at the tips and the feathers of his wings ruffled, blood and dirt sprinkled across them, but it could never hide the true beauty of his wings. Even the statues had wings that span at least two meters, and their tips, just like his hair, dipped in blue. Here and there was a golden feather found, as if someone had dripped molten gold on the wings. 
Yes, the art in the church you served was unusual but truly beautiful. You may not believe in the Holy Father, not like your parents did, but you did find peace here. Maybe it was the sheer presence the angel radiated in his own church, maybe it was because you had so many memories here, practically grown up with him gazing down at you, but you liked it here. 
You may no longer love the altar serving like you did as a child, but you still loved to stand here on holy ground, where only the priest and other servers were allowed, so near to the altar, so near to him. It made you feel special, maybe just for an hour, where you stood in a white robe, bringing bread and wine before the Archangel Michael. One of the statues was on the altar, taking more than half of the sacred table, leaving just enough space for the bible and the communion to be placed. It was a true artwork, just like all the other statues and paintings in the church, but the artist paid special attention to this one.
It was unknown why it stood here, when normally only a holy cross would be placed, but the statue has always been here and no one dared to change its place. You didn’t mind, because most sundays you could take in every detail of the artwork, sitting near to the altar. 
And like many sundays in the past and possibly in the future, you’re the one helping cleaning up. Blowing out the candles, collecting the left behind songbooks and of course cleaning up after your fellow altar servers. 
Yet unlike other sundays, you’re alone. The acolyte had to leave early, very apologetic but still asking you to finish everything up. You couldn’t deny her request, fully knowing how stressful her private life was with her family. And so you start doing all the task, a bit slower than usual now that you’re alone. 
Cleaning up and tidying the altar is the last thing on your list and then you could finally go home. You watch your steps, carrying the bucket with wine first, then followed by all the other things you had to lock in the safe, since they’re made out of gold. In the end, you would put a big white clothing over the statue, preventing the light and dust from damaging the artwork. But you aren’t that far yet, still carrying bowls until the communion cup is left. 
A gasp left your lips and the cup fell out of your hands, the sound of its impact on the marble floor ringing in your ears. Wings ruffled, feathers shifted and suddenly he looked at you. The statue made flesh. Archangel Michael. 
He was kneeling on the altar, a white robe clinging on his frame, no sword or armor in sight, while his wings started to unfold themselves. So pretty, you could only think. The occasional golden feather almost glowing in the candle light, silver ones shimmering, white feathers almost blinding you but it was the blue ones that held your focus. 
A chuckle ripped you out of the trance you were, enchanted by the beauty of the wings- real wings. He was grinning at you, eyes lit up in delight and a grin spreading on his lips. 
“Little mortal, I see you’re serving on Holy Grounds named after mine,” he says, voice oh so angelic but also raspy, as if a mere whisper. But he speaks so clearly, his words ringing in your ears and you blink, shake your head, trying to get rid of- what is happening? 
“I- I am… your Holiness,” you try. You don’t know how to address him, no one has ever told you how to address an angel. But he just shakes his head, another chuckle escaping his mouth and slips off the altar. He’s barefoot, you realize and he strides over to you, the end of his wings dragging over the floor. They seem heavy, you realize and as if he heard your thoughts (maybe he did, he is an angel after all, can they read the minds of mortals-) his right wing stretches first and the left one soon follows, and so you end up staring at the pair of wings, looming over you and showing hints of the true might Archangel Michael owns. 
“You have no need for this, my devotee,” and your heart skips a few beats, eyes going wide when he calls you his devotee. Never have you thought of yourself as one, but now he utters those words, how can you deny it? 
“I wish for you to call me Michael, it is my given name after all.” You can only nod and he seems satisfied by that. He stops a few steps in front of you, so near but so far away. Your brain tries to progress the situation, try to understand what your eyes see, but it’s your body that reacts in the end. 
You sink on your knees, hands clasped in front of your chest and you bow your head. 
“I am not worthy,” you murmur, because you aren’t. You do not believe in god, you do not pray to him, all your prayers, if you ever pray, go to him, to the Archangel Michael. “I am not worthy to see you, your- Michael. I am not worthy to be in your presence, I am-” The words stop and you press your eyes shut. A hand on your cheek makes you snap them open again, not being able to stop the gasp that leaves your mouth. 
“Oh, but you are, little devotee of mine. You who are the only one who truly serves me, ever since she was a young girl. You are the most worthy of all.” He kneels in front of you, and still, he towers over your frame, his wings frozen in movement. At this moment, he looks so angelic and sinful at the same time. You shudder at your thoughts, suddenly infesting your mind, spreading and creating pictures in front of your eyes. 
The ruffle of feathers makes you snap out of those filthy thoughts, eyes going wide when he pulls you closer, practically lifting you up. You’re frozen in his arms and can only watch in silence how his wings curl around the both of you. 
“There is also no need for you to kneel,” he rasps right next to your ear and you shudder, suddenly aware of your hands placed on his half-nacked chest. “A follower so loyal… is allowed to stand in my presence.” But before you can answer him, before you can ask him all the questions you have, he sneaks his arm around your waist and pulls you even closer. A sudden gasp escapes your lips once more and you tremble in his arms, when he suddenly lets his hands wander to your neck. 
“A follower so beautiful… little one, will you do me one more service?” He asks this as if you have the choice to refuse him. So you nod, thinking he will ask you to bring bread and wine, or to proclaim your belief in him. 
But then he tilts your chin up and you stare at his beautiful blue eyes, enhanced by his long lashes and eyeliner. Who would’ve thought angels have eyeliner, you think hysterically, yet your thoughts go silent, when he presses his lips against yours. You don’t react, your whole body frozen as the angel continues to kiss you. And then the arm around your waist pulls you even closer, bodies pressed against each other and his wings curling tighter against the two of you. 
Your eyes flutter shut, and you lean onto him, your arms circling around his neck. Your fingers brush over feathers and he moans against your lips, so sweet and sinful. And then- and then you finally return his desperate kiss, his tongue sneaking into your mouth, and you lose yourself. The simple soft kiss turns into something filthy, with your panting and his soft noises and oh what noises he makes. Small gasps, choked moans, all because he’s kissing you. You, nothing more but an altar server, nothing more than a mortal. Leaning closer, you let your lips move against his, inexperienced but it doesn’t matter. Not when he lowly groans or when you pant against his lips, trying to catch your breath. You couldn’t believe it. A man kissing and touching you, for the first time in your life-
“Allow me, devotee of mine. Allow me to see your naked skin, allow me to taste your flesh, allow me to feel your love,” he rasps, close to begging, eyes oh so pleading and you can’t deny him. You would never deny him and if it’s his wish to see, to taste and feel you, then you will strip naked, spread your legs and love him with all your heart and soul. 
“Michael,” you whisper, close to his lips and press yourself closer to him. “Michael, take and use me to your wishes, and my heart will listen. I will love you, with mind, heart and soul, and only you.” His pupils are blown wide when you whisper your oath, binding your whole life and soul to him. You don’t even realize what you’ve done, but he does. He feels it, down to his core, the oath you gave to him, on his sacred ground. It makes his essence soar, his wings flutter and his cock harden. 
A squeak escapes your lips, when he lifts you up, marching over to the altar and lays you down, all while he drapes his body over you, wings unfolded and feathers gleaming in the candle light. His breath fans over your face and your eyes widen, when he slowly crawls on the holy table. 
“Michael, shouldn’t we-,” you try to ask him, mind no longer clouded by his kisses but he just slams his lips on yours again and you forget your protests. Throwing your arms around him, your hands start to wander, hesitant at first to touch his bare skin. He grinds his hips against yours in response and he finally lets you breathe. Only now do you realize that he’s propping himself up on his arms, when he starts touching you with one hand as well. You shiver when he touches you below your shirt, riding up the fabric while he continues to ravish you. Moans leave your lips and you lift your legs to wrap them around his waist, trying to keep him close. 
Canting your hips up, you grind onto him but it’s not enough. A whine escapes your lips, you want him closer, you want to touch all of him, you want him in you. 
“Normally I am someone who is patient, but for you,” Michael starts to speak, voice raspy next to your neck, where he has pressed kisses and bites on your sensitive skin. “I want to take you, here on this holy table, here in my church and I will.” He rips your shirt off first, fabric flying off without resistance and you gulp at his casual show of strength. His eyes fixate on your simple bra, hiding your tits from him. 
Michael looks feral to you, wings shifting every second, pupils blown wide but completely focused on you and your body below him. He doesn’t hesitate and rips off your bra, completely ignoring the fact he could simply open it and latches immediately on your right tit, sucking on your nipples and gently pulling on the other. 
You gasp and moan at the new sensations, skin feverish and hot, while you bury a hand in his blond locks. He bites you and you tug his hair, making him groan while you beg for more. It’s new, it’s different, it’s filthy and dangerous, lying on the altar of the church you serve in, half naked while the Archangel Michael leaves his marks on your skin. 
If anyone could see you right now… you and your whole family would lose face in the community. Even more than that. But you didn’t care, only caring about Michael’s hands and lips on your body, feeling him and his body and- 
He suddenly kneels up, your own legs still between his, over you and shrugs off his white robe, revealing his whole form to you. Your eyes widen and you blush when he takes his cock in his hand without shame, slowly stroking it and watching you with half lidded eyes. His wings are once again spread and they flutter, when you sit up and place your hands on his thighs all while claiming his lips. Curiously, you start kneading his muscles, letting your hands wander until you can finally pull him closer. But he has other plans for you, sneaking his own hands to your waist and lifting you up, only to turn and seat you on his lap. He vanishes your last clothes as well, leaving you naked against him. 
A pant leaves your mouth when he stretches his body over yours again, rutting his hips against yours, his cock against your pussy, making you gasp when he spreads your wetness and even touches your clit. 
“Oh lord,” he groans close to your neck, lips ghosting over your skin once again and you feel so overwhelmed, overwhelmed with his presence, his touch- 
“Michael,” you moan, a desperate sob bubbling out when his cock continues to rub against your pussy and not in you. “Please,” you start to beg. “Please, take me- Michael, have me, I’m ready, please-” and you are. Ready and open for him, your untouched and virgin body ready to have him but he just doesn’t take you. Tears spill in your eyes, frustration filling your mind and your body, but he just slowly continues to caress your body, hands wandering until his fingers dip into your pussy. 
You cling onto him, nails ranking down his body, and you beg. You beg and plead, but he ignores you, humming when his fingers finally enter your pussy and start massaging your warm walls. It’s not really new to you, you’ve touched yourself several times, always in the darkness of your room, but it never brought you to an orgasm. 
Yet Michael’s fingers make your cunt tingle, your thighs shake when his movements become faster and your moans louder. And when his thumb presses on your clit, you shriek, and start rutting against his hand. “More,” you pant, cheeks flushed and your legs spreading even more, so close-
He claims your lips, mouth parting and tongues dancing, while he presses another finger into you. With a gasp you remove your lips from his, eyes closing in ecstasy and head falling back. Another press of his thumb and a bite into your neck has you shrieking again, cumming for the first time in your life, on the fingers of Michael. 
“What a darling you are,” he grumbles lowly, licking your reddened juices from his fingers while you try to blink the stars in your sight away. You whine his name, when he doesn’t touch you again and only stares at you. “You’re such a pretty creature, all for me and for me only.” He leans closer, his mouth almost kissing yours but only brushing against it. 
“To think I was the first to ever touch you like this… oh, little devotee of mine, you’ve pleased me so well and you don’t even know it.” His words make you whimper, or maybe even his teasing lips that don’t kiss you. In the end he does, making you taste yourself and you can’t help but moan. 
“Can you please- please, in me?” you try to ask, suddenly shy in actually voicing your desires. Getting fucked on an altar, what was wrong with you-
Head thrown back again, mouth wide open in a silent scream and he’s suddenly in you. Cock already moving, slowly but surely working into you, more and more. You just cling onto him, gasps leaving your lips and babbled pleas. 
His hips move slowly first, so you could get used to his insane size, but it doesn’t take long until he pistons into you, driving hard and fast, and you can only hold onto him, legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. 
You can feel yourself getting close again, your voice echoing in the empty church and- his wings fluttering above you. Oh god, his wings. The feathers were ruffled, chaotic and they seemed to spasm, every time you clenched around him. 
“Beloved mine, look at me,” he says to you, but you don’t hear him, so close to your orgasm and eyes fixated on his wings. 
“I said,” he suddenly spat, voice ringing in your ears, “look at me.” The feral look in his eyes, his widened pupils and wings looming over you make you cum again. Your whole body shakes, all while you scream his name. 
Instead of letting you rest, he grabs your right leg and hoists it over his shoulder, picking his pace up and chasing his own orgasm. You beg him to stop, oversensitive to a point where it’s almost hurting, your hands scrambling for anything to hold yourself but he doesn’t listen, doesn’t stop, fucking you stupid. 
Tears start pooling in your eyes and your whimpers and moans turn into sobs. Michael is a monster, for fucking you so hard, fucking you so good, destroying you and your pussy. You don’t know if you want him to stop or not, want him to continue until you cum again or let your poor, aching pussy rest. 
He doesn’t let you rest at all, only leaves your pussy for mere seconds, to turn your body on your stomach and you try to pick yourself up, but your limbs are weak. In the end it’s him who picks you up, hands on your waist, planting you on your knees and hands, only to drive into you again. 
The hard material of the altar already makes your knees ache, but you forget about the pain as Michael fucks into you again. It’s fast and hard, punching the air out of your lungs and leaves you moaning and crying for more. Tears are running down your cheeks, and you have to lower your arms, now leaning on your elbows. You beg for him to finally let you cum, you beg for him to cum, to touch you, to hold you and he gives you all that, if not more. 
Draping himself over you, he whispers praise into your ear and you shudder, when his fingers find your clit again. 
“One more, my devotee. Just one more, for me. Come for me, my beloved.” Hearing his praise, calling you beloved, calling you his and the fact he’s still fucking you, paired with his circling fingers has you cry out and cum with a shudder. 
Your legs shake, your whole body seems to quiver, but he holds you strong and steady, only to follow you. His hips pressing onto yours, he fills you up and you can hear the rustling feathers over you, while swears and praise fall from his swollen lips. 
Thrusting into you with his slowly softening dick, he draws some last whimpers out of you. It’s soft, how he turns you in his arms and keeps you close, his one wing draping over the both of you and hiding you from the world. He presses kisses on your front, cheeks and nose, leaving your lips for the last. Hands wander over your sweaty body and you blush under his half lidded gaze, suddenly ashamed of your nudity. 
“There is no need for that, devotee of mine. You’ve taken me, and this well.” His voice suddenly drops. “You’ve taken me so well and you will take me again. And again and again.” His words make your eyes go wide and suddenly, you realize what exactly happened. 
You just fucked someone on an altar. In a church. You got fucked by an angel, by Archangel Michael himself, on a freaking altar. You got ravished and stolen of your innocence– Michael took your virginity, here in a church and you had sex. 
You can feel his cum dripping out of you, slowly running down and you press your legs together. Why did you suddenly want to make sure no drop of his cum would leave your pussy? Why did you have the sudden desire to- 
But Michael doesn’t seem to realize your dilemma, still peppering kisses on your skin and face, absolutely blissful in the afterglow. 
“I apologize for being so harsh but my desires got the better of me,” he suddenly speaks up again, completely ignoring his previous words. “Yet… will you allow me to take you again?” Seeing your surprised look, he chuckles and gives you a small peck on the lips. 
“Not today, I shall let you rest,” he assures you, as if he just didn’t completely destroy you. But you didn’t care. The promise of another fucking, of another time like that, where he made you scream and cry, makes you shudder. You snuggle closer to him, wiggling your body against his, while the altar uncomfortably presses against your other side. Yet you don’t care, not when you’re being held by the most gorgeous man in the world, an angel and maybe… someone you would learn to love. 
But that is something to worry about in the future. Now you enjoyed his fleeting touches, listening and blushing to his praise, oh his praise, and the warmth of the wing that acted like a blanket.
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taglist. @scftbunni , @kaiser-samaa , @mikeysonlywhore , @dervaaas , @mi-kage , @yumik00001 , @miraculouscorazone
if you wish to join the taglist for this series, please send this blog a message/ask or comment below the masterpost! all other applications for joining the taglist will be ignored.
anne. woo, i finally posted it. i'm so glad i have this monstrosity finally out and no longer in my drafts... already fearing the next part. dunno why i'm doing this to myself but then i think about angel!kaiser and i no longer question my sanity. enjoy!
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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FALLEN ANGEL.
an angel who rebelled against God and was cast out of heaven.
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pairing. michael kaiser x female!reader
content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, heavy christian mythology/theology, sex on sacred ground (church), kaiser is the archangel michael, individual warnings for each chapter
summary. you have been altar serving in the st. michael church ever since you were a kid. it was not your passion, merly a duty being carried out. but then he stands in front of you, archangel michael, and asks you for one last service.
synopsis. "I am not worthy," you murmur, because you aren't. You do not believe in God, you do not pray to him, all your prayers, if you ever pray, go to him, to Archangel Michael.
“Oh, but you are, little devotee of mine. You who are the only one who truly serves me, ever since she was a young girl. You are the most worthy of all.” He kneels in front of you, and still, he towers over your frame, his wings frozen in movement.
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archangel. angel on earth. fallen angel.
— more chapters may be added...
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taglist. @scftbunni , @kaiser-samaa , @mikeysonlywhore , @dervaaas , @mi-kage , @yumik00001 , @miraculouscorazone
if you wish to join the taglist for this series, please send this blog a message/ask or comment below this masterpost! all other applications for joining the taglist will be ignored.
anne. lord have mercy on me, for i have sinned. this started as a small joke, then became the draft (un)holy and now it's a series... blame sunny and vera for it. expect slow updates, since i have other things on my plate. other than that, enjoy you sinners 🫶
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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dirty secrets.
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pairing. itoshi rin x fem!reader
content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, soft dom!rin, afab reader, she/her pronouns used, petnames, dirty talk, creampies, slut shaming, slight exhibitionism, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering
“That’s it, sweetheart.” Rin groans against your neck, hands gripping your waist tightly from where he has you bent over the counter. His hips stutter against yours as he sloppily finishes inside of you and a contented sigh leaves your lips when you feel the rush of warmth filling you up. 
You press back into Rin even though he’s already as deep as he can go, but he’s pulling away the next second and sliding your panties back up your legs until they’re snugly in place. His large hands smooth down the back of your legs and up again before he steps back and lets you stand up. 
When you do, his cum starts slowly seeping out of you and into the crotch of your panties, wet and warm. He watches you with a knowing look as you press your knees together and tug on the end of your skirt. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip at the feeling and his sharp eyes follow the movement closely. 
“Rin,” you whine as you stumble after him towards the front door. “Do I really have to do this?”
“Was it not your idea?” he responds flatly, holding the door open while you step outside before closing it behind you and locking it. 
“Yeah, I guess. But-“
“Then be good. Don’t let any of it go to waste.”
His tone is absolute as more of his spend leaks out of you and soaks the fabric between your thighs on the short walk to the car, and when you sit down on the leather seat it presses against your skin and you have to hold back the moan that threatens to escape the back of your throat. 
It’s messy, you can feel it sticking to the inside of your thighs and squishing between your folds. It should be gross, but your chest hitches at the way it lights a fire in the pit of your stomach. 
When Rin gets into the driver's seat and notices the way your legs are gently rubbing together he’s quick to place a hand on your thigh to keep you still. His hand is warm against your skin and it has you biting your lip. He backs out of the driveway and onto the road without sparing you another glance. 
Even with his hand holding your leg steady, it’s impossible to ignore the dull throbbing of your clit and unconsciously start rocking your hips forward in a pathetic attempt to find any sort of friction against the car seat. 
He notices this almost immediately and tightens his grip until you gasp and halt your  small movements, glancing out of the corner of your eye to find him glaring down at you. 
“Behave.” Rin orders sternly. You nod and apologize meekly, fixing your gaze on the road and trying to tune out the pleasure that burns hotly between your legs. 
An unbearable fifteen minute car ride later you’re forced to spend the next couple of hours following your boyfriend around as he runs errands with a distracting wet mess between your legs. 
It sticks to your skin with every step you take and you’re unusually silent the entire time, brain clouded with a thick haze at the feeling of your inner thighs slipping together. Rin watches you closely, noticing the way you waddle for a few steps every time you kneel down for a moment and the way you keep staring up at him with need written all over your pretty face. 
You’re not expecting a figure to come flying around the corner of an aisle and nearly knock the two of you off of your feet as they throw both arms around your shoulders in a half hug. 
“If it isn’t Rin and y/n!” a familiar voice exclaims cheerfully by your ear. You tense up before realizing it’s just Bachira a second later. On the other side of him, Rin clicks his tongue and shoots him a glare. “What do you want?”
“You’re always so grouchy!” Bachira laughs lightheartedly and jostles you both with his arms again. “I'm just here for a few things, but I saw you guys and wanted to say hello.”
“Hi.” Rin says tonelessly. Bachira turns his beaming smile in your direction, clearly waiting for you to greet him as well, but you’re staring ahead with a distant look on your face. 
When he had first thrown himself onto you, the impact of Bachira’s hug had caused the very last bit of Rin’s cum to leak out of you. You immediately tuned out what the other two were saying as the feeling made your head start to spin. A small amount had started to drip down your inner thigh and Bachira’s sharp eyes caught on to the flush of your cheeks and the way you pressed your legs together. 
Rin follows his gaze before ducking out of his hold and grabbing Bachira’s shirt, tugging him away from you with a little more force than necessary. 
Bachira, always the one to find amusement in situations such as this, bats his eyes innocently and shoots Rin a confused look before turning his attention back to you. 
“Y/n? Everything okay?” 
Rin reaches out to grab your hand and pulls you into his chest before you can answer. “She’s not feeling well.” he lies, jaw clenched tightly in annoyance. “We’re leaving.”
Bachira doesn’t even get a chance to respond before Rin is leading you to the front of the store. 
When he drags you back to the car on the empty side of the parking lot, he tugs you away from the passenger door and pushes you down onto the back seat before following in and closing the door behind him. He crawls over your body where you’re leaning back on your elbows and shoves his hands between your knees to spread your legs apart and expose you. 
The cold air against the damp crotch of your panties makes you sharply inhale through your teeth. Rin’s eyes darken at the sight between your thighs, pupils blown wide when they meet yours. He looks like he wants to devour you. 
You moan softly as hand slips under the waistband and his fingers slip through the mess, gliding through your folds with no resistance. Rin exhales heavily against your neck, rubbing slick circles into your clit while you gasp and whine. 
Your hips twitch helplessly as he finally gives you the relief you’ve been aching for all day, hands reaching up to grip onto his shoulders as his fingers work you into bliss. 
“Rin,” you whimper as he slips two fingers into you with ease, using his cum as lubricant. He fucks it back into you slowly, fingertips mercilessly dragging against your walls. 
“You’re such a slut,” he groans against your neck. “Walking around with my cum dripping out of you all day.”
A stuttered moan forces its way out of you at his words. 
“My slut.”
His pace is unforgiving as his fingers piston in and out of your pussy mercilessly, sticky and creating a bigger mess out of you. Your back arches up off of the seat, legs flexing at the sudden onslaught of pleasure. A mixture of his name and warbled pleads for more are falling from your lips as your eyes roll into the back of your head. 
Rin, who had already been achingly hard long before he pulled you out of the store, grinds himself down into the seat desperately, heat twisting tightly in his gut as he fingers you ruthlessly. Every time he feels the head of his cock catch on the seam of his jeans he grunts and his grip on your hips tightens. 
“Rin, I- I’m gonna-“ you try warning him as the coil in your stomach begins to snap. 
“Gonna cum, sweetheart?” Rin asks huskily, staring down at you with half lidded teal eyes. “Go ahead, let go.”
“Be a good little slut.” 
With that your mind goes blank and a choked sob sounds as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. Watching you release around his fingers is finally what sends Rin over the edge, and he barely has enough time to pull his cock out of his pants and push it into your twitching walls before he’s choking on a groan while he fills you up a second time that day. 
You’re still riding it out when he bottoms out in you and your vision starts to go black at the way it drags out your high until you’re gasping and convulsing under him. 
As you both try to catch your breath, Rin slowly pulls out of you and quickly pushes your underwear back up your legs and over your hips, once again making you feel his release as it leaks out of you and onto the thin fabric. 
His hand reaches out to cup the side of your face and he leans forward to place a soft kiss on your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips. 
“Okay?” he asks tentatively. 
“Mhm,” you confirm quietly, legs threatening to close at the dampness back between your legs. 
“Let's go home then.”
Rin carefully pulls himself out of the car and helps you to your feet so you can plop down in the passenger seat, legs still weak and twitching with aftershocks. A small whimper leaves your throat when you make contact with the seat, feeling it all press against you again. 
Rin smirks at you knowingly as he reaches over you to buckle your seat belt, and you give him your best attempt at a frown that you’re sure looks much more like a pout as he finally drives you back home. 
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aly. uhhhhh sunny's fault again
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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wet an‘ ready for me.
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pairing. shidou ryusei x fem!reader
content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, clubbing, grinding, exhibitionism
“Let me do unholy things to you,” he whispers close to your ear, his breath that fans over your neck making you shudder. “Unholy but oh so good things…” He murmurs, lips now touching your hot skin and you lean closer. Closer than you already are, grinding on the stranger in the club, light flashing across the room, the heavy bass shaking the ground.
A gasp escapes your lips when he nibbles on your ear, and then licks a small part on your neck, only to latch his own lips on your skin. With a moan, you throw your head back, closing your eyes and enjoying the way he touches you. Eager, greedy, hungry. You sway your hips and reach back with one arm, latching your hand into his hair.
“Fuckin’ hell, darling. If you continue like this, I will take you right here.” His voice is raspy and it makes your pussy flutter. God, what would you give for this man to take you, without any remorse, in the middle of dancing people, where anyone could see you.
His hands begin to wander, kneading your muscles and riding up your skirt. It’s dangerous, but it’s exactly what you want.
“What- oh, Shidou,” you moan, when his other hand squeezes your tit, only to pull on your nipple right through your shirt. But it isn’t enough, and you guide his hand down to your tummy, where he lifts the shirt and splays his hand across your stomach.
“That’s it, angel, moan for me,” he chuckles and bites down, making you once again shudder in his arms. Why is he so- why does Shidou Ryusei know how your body and mind works, what makes you whimper and moan, what makes your cunt so fucking wet in nothing but a few minutes?
“Goin’ to take you home with me and make you cry on my cock, I fuckin’ promise you that,” and then, like a fucking sadist, the hand on your thigh suddenly cups your pussy and he presses his thumb on your clit. He presses hard and drags his thumb slowly down, until he can feel the wet patch on your panties.
“So wet an’ ready for me… darling, I’m going to ravish you.”
Shidou Ryusei is a man of his promise, and he definitely held his many promises that night.
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anne. send me to horny jail at this point ;-; my corruption kink is showing and i don’t like it
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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another day another slay 🫶
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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another day another slay 🫶
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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typical day in our gc 🫶
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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20% off on our OF!!
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pairing. isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, mikage reo x fem!reader
content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, both of you are 'pornstars', praise kink, mastrubation, vaginal sex, squirting, mention of cum in pussy, written in lowercase
series. part two
isagi yoichi. he‘s tight on money and so he does some research for quick money. of course he heard of onlyfans, but when it got suggested to him… it didn’t leave his mind and so he gathered his courage, after days of thinking about it and asked you if you would join him. he was relieved you agreed, he doesn’t want to do this without you.
the two of you are very new to this, but after doing some research (spying on other people’s accounts), you really get into it. it starts making fun, not only a second source of income. the two of you always giggle and blush at the praise you get, when your buyers call the both of you pretty, so fuckable, so cute and pliant after several orgasms.
you gain experience, and slowly you get bolder. both of you agreed to never show your faces, but the cameras linger longer on your upper bodies, showing chest and neck, sometimes even your chin. it’s dangerous, and it’s thrilling. not to mention, you get money, money for showing off his dick and your pussy, cumming while a whole audience watches, panting and moaning for more.
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nagi seishiro. he spends so much money on his games, it’s unreal. and even if reo lends him some of it, nagi feels always bad for it. he likes to be spoiled, but he doesn’t want to be indebted. and so he turns to you, asking if you would join him on onlyfans. you’re shocked at first, but in the end, you agree.
in the beginning it’s only some jacking off, nagi making you cum on his fingers, or some of your nudes, showing off your body.
but then the two of you really get into it, especially you. nagi looks so pretty with his eyes lidded, panting and whining, all while you wrap your hand around his dick, pressing your thumb on his slit, slowly torturing him until his thighs shake. it’s one of your most bought videos, nagi sitting on the chair, naked and his head thrown back, all while you ruin him with nothing more than your hand.
it becomes an addiction for him. to be praised and spoiled by you and the audience. nagi makes such a good sub, such a sweet and good boy, you’re so glad he asked you to be part of his onlyfans account. without it, you would’ve never found it out, the praise kink nagi has.
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mikage reo. you ask him to appear in one of your videos. your onlyfans account has been up for a while, filled with videos where you pleasure yourself, always alone, never another man or woman with you. but then you appear on the top 100 and you thought it would be a good celebration, to have a video where someone fucks you stupid. not only would it sell well, it would also finally be chance to have good dick again.
so when you ask reo, you know he wouldn’t agree because of the money, not when he’s the heir of a rich family. he finds you attractive, of course he wants to have sex with you! you’re over the moon when he agrees, a faint blush in his face.
when you finally upload the video that’s barely 30 minutes long, it breaks your own records in days. it’s your most popular piece and so many ask for reo to come back, the mysterious man who ruined your pussy, filling you with his cum and making you sob as you squirt all over him. reo never shows his face in your future videos, but your fans can always tell it’s the same man.
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anne. hehe 🤭
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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mein liebling, mon coeur, my love.
my darling, my heart, my love.
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pairing. noel noa x gn!reader
content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, use of pet names, praise, two pet names in german & french (translation available) short work because i’m lazy
You sob and cling on him, the man who towers over you, who makes you cry on his big dick. Noa makes you whine and moan, unable to form words, fucking you hard and fast. You can only cling onto him, dragging your nails across his back and just take it. A rumble escapes his throat, deep and strong, making you shudder. It’s always too much, too much to take him, be it his fingers, his mouth or his cock. He will always make you cry, tears running down your cheek, completely blissed out, with no thoughts in your mind being able to form. Noa always makes you lose your mind, but when he starts to praise you with all those pet names he has for you…
“Mein Liebling,” he murmurs, lips close to your ear and you shiver, eyes closing, as if it will help you to hear his deep voice better. 
“Mon coeur,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your body, leaving a trail of kisses and bites behind, making your skin bloom in a fierce red. 
“My love”, he praises you, when your arms circle around his neck, searching for his lips, all while he continues to fuck you. 
When Noel Noa fucks you, you always end up with tears running down your face, sobbing and crying, all because he fucks you how he loves you. Sweet and fast, with you in his arms.
mein Liebling. my darling
mon coeur. my heart
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anne. head in hands. tall buff men just... hit different. had to get this off my chest, sorry for keeping it so short ._.
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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ardent hunger.
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pairing. reo mikage x afab!reader
content warnings. afab reader, no pronouns/gendered petnames, cunnilingus, dirty talk, biting, praise kink, teasing, switch dynamics, hair pulling
As a wonderful consequence of a life amongst the corporate elite, Reo Mikage knows just how to savour every part of you that you have to offer.
Face buried deep between your thighs, every single pass and swipe of his tongue against your cunt feels like heaven. You are a delicacy, a luxury, a ripe summer fruit that drips so sweetly along his chin whilst he devours you. 
His fingers press into the soft flesh near your ass, desperate to feel as much of you as he can, to covet and adore you with each and every ounce of his being. Your fingers are laced tight into his hair to guide him as you thrust against his hot mouth, eliciting devout moans that resonate against your clit and spark stars behind your eyes. 
“Such a good boy,” you hum mindlessly, and he revels in your praise. 
It is incentivising, enticing him to bury his tongue deeper, to press the full flat of the wet hot muscle across your pussy and eat you out with renewed vigour, to do his best to please you so that he may hear those sweet words of affirmation tumble from you once more. 
“You’re so eager tonight, Mikage,” you taunt, entirely aware of how much he despises your use of his family name. “Was I not paying enough attention to you over dinner? You know I like to let you sort those negotiations out for yourself, they’re so boring to me.”
He nips at your thigh in defiance, a teasing bite, the skin stinging lightly as he presses an open-mouthed kiss against it after. “They’d be less boring if you spoke more, dear. You’d put those stuffy old men to shame.” Another kiss, closer to your cunt this time. You moan and he smiles, a final kiss to your clit while you writhe under him. “Besides, you have such a pretty voice.”
“I don’t think- “ you gasp reverently as his tongue slips between your folds one more, nose pressing into your clit- “that they’d appreciate these sorts of sounds.”
Reo does no more than hum in acknowledgement of your words as your fists curl against the sheets, bundling the fabric tight between your knuckles. 
Your taste is enthralling, addictive- how could he not be eager to consume as much of you as he can? Especially when you are so responsive to his touch, alight below his fingertips. 
Hands against his head once more, pulling gently at his hair, thrusting wantonly against his mouth as your orgasm approaches, you still twitch and keen everywhere his own hands roam. From your thighs, up your stomach, caressing along the curve of your chest and all the way back again, Reo simply has to feel you whilst you come undone for him. 
He is desperate for your release, perhaps even moreso than you are yourself. One hand returns to your clit to stimulate it alongside his mouth and the salacious whine that slips from you has him close to cumming completely untouched. 
Pressed into the bedsheets, his cock is hard and leaking, the friction from rubbing against the bed barely enough to stimulate him the way that he needs. But his own release isn’t important as your movements become deeper, frantic, quiet utterances of “fuck, Reo, I’m close,” falling past your lips and rolling in rivulets down to the dip of your collarbone. 
You press up on your forearms to look at him and Reo can do no more than smile up at the blissed-out look in your eyes as your orgasm washes over you, lips parted and glossy in the gently twinkling ceiling lights. He always thinks you are at your prettiest in the hazy glow of your comedown, chest rising and falling with every soft pant, the overwhelming adoration in your eyes when you look at him.
But he's not done yet.
There is one thing that Reo knows above all else as a result of his upbringing, something as integral to the working heart of an entrepreneurial system as oxygen itself.
The importance of return investments.
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ven. dear god finally i wrote smth it was abt time LMAO
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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You sink on your knees, hands clasped in front of your chest and you bow your head. “I am not worthy,” you murmur, because you aren’t. You do not believe in god, you do not pray to him, all your prayers, if you ever pray, go to him, to the Archangel Michael. “I am not worthy to see you, your- Michael. I am not worthy to be in your presence, I am-” The words stop and you press your eyes shut.
piece of my archangel!michael kaiser draft. y'all better fucking love this or else
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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Artist Bachira…😳 I think those worms are contagious
so sorry abt ur worms 👉👈 pls get well soon
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bllk-after-dark · 1 year
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artists' desire.
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pairing. bachira x fem!reader
content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, exhibitionism, reader is fembodied, use of female pet names (good girl)
Artist Bachira who offers you money to nude model for his latest project. He approaches you out of the blue one day and catches you by surprise with how blunt he is about it, explaining how he has no idea who else to ask and not enough time to save up enough money to hire an actual model. You find yourself agreeing to his proposal without much thought, and it only hits you how embarrassing this is going to be when the day you agreed to meet is right around the corner. 
When you show up to his place as planned, wearing comfortable clothing that will end up on the floor in only a matter of minutes, you have to keep internally reminding yourself that this is a professional setting and that there’s nothing strange about it. Bachira isn’t acting like this is anything out of the ordinary, so when he leaves the room after telling you to get undressed and gesturing to the loveseat draped in a silk sheet you remove everything before you can chicken out and tentatively take a seat on top of the smooth fabric. 
On the other side of the room there’s an easel holding a canvas and a stool where he’ll be sitting while he draws you. Your body traitorously heats up at the thought of how closely he’ll be looking at each part of you and you have to press your thighs together shamefully to stop the dull throbbing from your core. 
The sound of the door opening makes you jump slightly as Bachira shoulders his way inside and gives you a quick, respectful nod when he meets your eyes before pausing and doing a double take at the sight of you. His eyes widen a fraction and rake over your torso and legs, but he’s quick to shake himself out of his momentary stupor and lets an easygoing smile spread across his face. 
“Alright then, let’s do this.” He says in a singsong voice while dropping himself down on the wooden stool and adjusting the canvas. “Sit in whatever position is most comfortable, but focus on appearing sensual at the same time.”
You nod at his words and start to rearrange yourself, leaning back slightly to rest against the arm of the loveseat in a lounging position that has your chest facing slightly forward while one of your legs crosses over the other and accentuates the jut of your hip. You can feel his eyes on you the entire time, and you have to fight the urge to cover your chest and curl your legs up so he can’t see anything. 
When you find a comfortable way to lay, you look up and blink at him questioningly. “Does this work?”
Bachira’s eyes are dark and intense when they meet yours, his expression flat and unreadable, and you can see him visibly swallow before he answers. 
“Perfect,” he confirms with a thumbs up. “I’ll try to make this as quick as possible, so just bear with me! And if you need a break let me know.”
With your hum of agreement, he lifts his pencil up to the canvas and gets to work. The following minutes are spent in silence with nothing but the sound of graphite scratching against paper to fill the air. He starts with long, drawn out shapes at first while he glances back and forth over your body like he’s mapping it out, but when his pencil eventually slows down so do his eyes. Starting at the tops of your shoulders, every time his eyes jump from the canvas back to you your skin prickles pleasantly. 
Down the line of your collarbone, the slope of your neck, the length of your arm - everywhere his eyes focus makes your skin burn warm under the attention. When his gaze finds its way to the curve of your breasts your heart rate picks up instinctively, suddenly hyper aware of how exposed you are in this room alone with him. It’s all you can do not to shudder at the way he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth while his pencil works over the canvas, marking out the expanse of your chest. 
Your nipples are hard from the cool air in the room and the way you’re slightly leaning to the side has your boobs pushing together in a way that is no doubt tantalizing if the way Bachira is chewing on his bottom lip is anything to go off of. 
No matter how hard you try, it’s impossible to ignore the fire that starts burning in your lower body when his eyes move up to meet yours for a second, catching you staring right at him with a wanting look on your face. You quickly avert your eyes to the decor in the back of the room, but out of the corner of your eye you can see the flash of a smirk on his lips. You have no choice but to ignore the wetness that starts gathering between your legs while his gaze moves on to the dip of your waist, starting to feel mildly ashamed at how much this is turning you on. 
Although the look on Bachira’s face is calm and focused, his right left bouncing up and down tells you that he must be feeling something too. You can only hope he’s not uncomfortable and try to busy yourself by counting the photos on the wall in your head. It works for a few minutes, but a quiet shuddering intake of breath brings your attention back to Bachira who seems to have moved on to your hips and legs. 
Your heart jumps into your throat at the way he’s staring so intently at your thighs, and you wonder for a second if he can see the shining trail of slick between your legs when the bouncing of his foot stops and he blinks a few times like he’s trying to shake away a persistent thought. Even still, he continues scribbling away and dedicating himself to the task in front of him. 
You distantly feel slightly annoyed at the fact that the easel is just hiding his lower half from your sight, because maybe, just maybe, he’s as affected by this as you are right now. He’s been abnormally silent since he started and keeps getting this distracted look on his face every few minutes, but all you can do is lay there and watch impatiently as his hand skillfully moves over the canvas. 
When he finally moves on to your face, you avoid his eyes and stare somewhere off to the side, but his pencil stops moving so you slowly bring them back to meet his stare. 
“What?” You ask cautiously, feeling yourself throb at the intense look he fixes you with. 
“Keep your eyes on me.” Bachira says lowly. 
You bite the inside of your cheek so hard it starts to sting and nod, suddenly feeling lightheaded and foggy under the hungry way he watches you. The corner of his lips upturn slightly at your compliance, and it makes you swallow thickly. 
“Good girl.”
The white hot feeling of arousal that rushes through you from head to toe at these words sucks every single thought out of your head, only able to helplessly try to hold eye contact with him as he scribbles out the details of your face. His eyes flick between yours and the canvas intermittently, and every time it feels like he’s staring right through you and can see all of the dirty thoughts swimming around in your head. 
The sticky mess between your legs becomes too much and you’re rubbing your thighs together before you can even process the decision to do so. 
Bachira’s eyes follow the movement, and when he looks back to you the yellow of his irises is almost completely swallowed up by his pupils. He sets the pencil down with a loud clack and fixes you with a dangerous expression that you know you won’t be forgetting any time soon. 
“Actually,” Bachira says while standing up and making his way towards you. “I need your help with something else today.”
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aly. ty sunny for the artist bacteria bachira brain worms i am still Thinking.
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