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lokis-army-77 · 2 months

Text

Premium Air

mondern!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 1.1k

It's a few days after April Foos, Eddie isn't expecting you to pull a koke but you have something up your sleve.

Warning: noting! unless you count cursing

Thank you to my beta readers @munson-blurbs and @lofaewrites

Masterlist

You loved seeing the harmless little pranks that people would play on their significant others on social media and with April first already behind you, you knew Eddie wouldn’t suspect a thing.

It was a bright Wednesday afternoon, you were at Robin's for a much needed girls day when you decided to put your little prank into action.

"Hey, Rob, you wanna watch as I give Eddie a mini heart attack?" You ask as you wiggle into a more comfortable position on her couch.

"Oh my god, yes!" She excitedly shuffles over to you, leaning her whole body over your right side.

You're both a giggling mess when you send the first text message.

Hey, so my tire pressure light just came on, do I need to go have it checked?

It takes a few minutes but he eventually responds.

Is it still driving alright?

Bring it to the shop when you get home from Robs, I'll fill it up before I leave work.

Yeah, it's driving just fine. The screen says it's my front passenger side tire.

You'll be fine to drive back home, I'll fill it up then, baby.

You leave it be for around thirty minutes as you and Robin think of what you should say next.

So Robin said I should go get it checked out and we were worried I wouldn't be able to drive all the way to your shop so I came to the one by her house.

I didn't know air was so expensive 😫.

It was no more than a second later that your phone started to ring in your hands. Eddie's contact photo lighting up the screen. You swiped it away and you could feel Robin beginning to silently laugh

Sweetheart, answer the phone.

Another call that you decline.

What do you mean expensive? Answer your phone!!!

Don't worry, Eds, the guy gave me a good deal! I think it's bc he thought I was pretty.

What do you mean by a good deal? Sweetheart, how much did you pay?

You and Robin can hardly contain your laughter. Tears are running down your faces.

"I feel so bad, but it's so funny!" You cry.

Robin nods along, "Don't, it's totally hilarious." She wipes her tears away and points at your phone, "Don't acknowledge those questions yet, say something about how he didn't notice the pretty comment."

You get to typing, fingers gliding over the keyboard.

Wow, I would have thought you'd be upset at another man...

Baby ,that is the last thing I'm worried about. HOW. MUCH. DID. YOU. PAY.

Well he said it was like premium air so it was on the more expensive end but apparently it won't seep out as fast as regular air.

You can see the read receipt and the three little dots as he begins to type. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest as the typing stops and he calls you again only for you to ignore it once more.

Robin is beside you, howling as she holds her stomach. "This is the best thing I have EVER witnessed in my life!"

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, ANSWER YOUR PHONE. HOW MUCH DID YOU SPEND? BECAUSE PREMIUM AIR ISN'T REAL

So the guy said it's usually 250 for all 4 but he said he'd give me a deal and give me all 4 for the price of 3... is that not how much it usually is?

You need to tell me what shop you're at. Are you still there? Put me on the phone with this fucking guy

Eddie, I'm not putting you on the phone with him.

Sweetheart, why in the world would you take your car to someone else??? I'm literally a mechanic. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN FREE!!

Are you mad at me?

No, I'm not mad at you baby. I just need you to put me on the phone with the shop owner or someone, anyone. Air in all 4 tires is never gonna be over like 5 bucks...

I told you I'd take care of it, why didn't you just listen

You almost double over, laughing harder than before. You could tell you were stressing him out, that he was trying to keep from freaking out.

"Oh my god!" You cackle, "I think it's time to break it to him or else he might actually have a heart attack or maybe an aneurysm.

Eddie calls you one last time and this time, you answer, sushing Robin as you press the speaker button.

"Thank fuck, Sweetheart, put me on the phone with the asshole that scared you." His face was gruff, the growl of irritation bringing a shiver lust down your spine.

"Eddie, baby, calm down."

"I'll calm down when I get you your money back," he huffs. You can hear the sounds of his shop muffled through the speaker.

You can't help the giggle that slips past your lips when you make eye contact with Robin.

"This is not funny," he stresses.

The giggles continue to bubble up, "I know I know, but I can't help it. I love you so much."

"I love you too, now please let me talk to the guy, I really don't wanna ask again."

Robin takes your phone at that point, clearing her throat and proceeding to do her best impression of a blue collar man.

"Hey, this is Rodger, at you just got pranked garage, how can I help you?"

"Yeah, you can help me, I-" Eddie stops mid sentence.

You've got your hand covering your mouth as you try, and fail, to cover your chortles.

"Wait a second... Robin?" All the building anger in his voice disappears as he slowly realizes what's happening.

Robin begins wheezing as you grab your phone back, "We got you!" You gleefully exclam into the phone.

"We got you good!" Robing teeters back on her legs, almost falling from the couch.

You can hear the shaky sigh of relief fron the receiver on the other end. "Thank God. Baby you had me going crazy over here. I was about to drive to every garage in town to find you."

"I'm so so so sorry, baby. I really am but we didn't do anything for April fools like we usually do and I just knew you wouldn't be expecting this."

Eddie lets out the longest sigh of relief you've ever heard. "Shit, sweetheart, I'm getting too old for these pranks."

"You're 35." You deadpan.

"And it's all down hill from here."

You can't see it but you know he has a shit eating grin on and you roll your eyes. "I'll make it up to you when I get home."

"You better."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #female reader #eddie munson fluff

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powerfultenderness · 11 months

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Hello there! I just discovered your könig neighbor series, and I was wondering what would happen if könig got hurt? Maybe he came back from a mission with something the reader notices?

As big or as little as you like. I'm obsessed for real. The way you write him is spot on to what's in my head. I'll take whatever scraps you are willing to throw out!

First, thank you so much! And I'm so sorry for taking so long with this one! I usually try to keep the requests/suggestions shorter, but this one got a little out of hand!

There's a tiny bit of angst here. But most of it is like half fluff and half suggestive. So [Mature 18+ rating]

He never imagined himself as one of those men that would rush home to see his partner. And he still wasn’t. He was a man rushing home so he could see his neighbor. After quickly dropping his bag off at home, he found himself knocking on your door and hoping it wasn't too late for you.

Thankfully you were still awake and answered the door only after his second knock. Clearly you had been getting ready for bed, as you didn't look tired but were dressed in a large t-shirt and loose fitting shorts. You smiled up at him as soon as you opened the door, "König! You're back!"

And you jumped up and hugged him. Not your usual greeting for him, usually it was just a nice smile and a wave, if he was lucky you'd gently graze his arm. But this was the first time since you moved in that he had been gone longer than a week.

He quickly returned your embrace, wrapping his arms around you and holding you off the floor, enjoying both the feel of your body against his and your happy little squeal.

You giggled as he set you down, you let your hands gently glide down from his shoulders, until you were simply holding onto his arms.

König smiled down at you, taking you in like you were the very air he breathed, and so saw the moment your face shifted from happiness to horror. You let out a little scream and jolted out of his hands, “ah! I’m bleeding!”

“Shit! What happened?” He quickly, but gently, took your arm, smeared in blood, and looked over it with you.

“I don’t know!” You panicked as you tried to find the source of your bleeding.

Wait…you didn’t feel any pain. You looked up from your arm to his and gasped. “I’m not bleeding! You are!”

It was hard to tell, as he was wearing a black long sleeved shirt, but with a closer look, you could see a dark wet patch sticking to his arm.

He hummed quietly and followed your line of sight to look at his right arm. “Oh. Yea. I did get hurt.”

“What do you mean, ‘oh yea’? Come here!” You tugged on his uninjured arm and pulled him into your flat.

“It’s not that bad, darling. I’m fine.” Though he protested, he followed you with no resistance.

“Sit,” you ordered as you pointed to your couch and disappeared into the back room.

You returned with some clean towels and a first aid kit; not a cutesy supermarket kind, he noticed, but quite the premium kind. You gently set the items down on the coffee table in front of him and headed to the kitchen, running the water until it was warm enough.

“Why do you have this?” He asked poking through the first aid kit while you were running the water. It was good that you were prepared for emergencies, but he liked to think that you would turn to him in emergencies.

“House warming gift from my sister. The kids like to spend time with me, and one of her kids is a little accident prone.” Never, at least in your care, needed anything more than a band aid, but better safe than sorry.

Ah. That made sense, he nodded to himself. A first aid kit of this caliber did seem like something a worried and responsible mother would gift.

You filled a bowl with warm water and set it down on the coffee table next to the rest of the supplies. “Now, let me see.”

His injury was near the back of his right bicep, simply rolling his sleeve up didn’t even reach the wound. You hummed and dropped your hands back onto your lap. "Even I think it would be too dramatic to cut up your shirt."

You were about to continue, to tell him to change into a shirt with short sleeves when he crossed his arms at his waist and pulled his shirt over his head.

You should have kept your gaze up. Not only would it have been more polite, you might have caught a glimpse of his face as he pulled his shirt over his head. Hindsight. Instead your eyes immediately dropped his chest, a breath caught in your throat, as you stared at…him. When you first met, he had rolled up his shirt to show you a scar on his side, and that had sent your heart racing. But now? With his shirt completely off? Your eyes, very wide, were glued to his chest, taking in every dip of his muscles, naturally leading your eyes down and down, only disrupted by scars (that you had the sudden urge to touch) and hair that dipped down-

“Darling?” König cleared his throat nervously. “I can do it, if you are, uhm, scared of the blood.”

You jumped, and breathed, at his voice. Crap! You were caught completely checking him out and a quick and hopefully subtle swipe to the side of your face proved that you had literally been drooling. You, brain still not caught up, scoffed at his words. Instead of taking the polite out he’d given you, you opened your stupid mouth. “Please, I’m not scared of blood.”

How did you not notice him take one of the towels to sop up the blood on his arm?

“You’re not?”

The way his hood moved with him, as if it were a part of him, combined with the streaks of faded paint underneath his eyes should have been intimidating. You imagine that on the field, even to his own teammates, that it is. But the way he tilted his head and how you could tell, even with the eye black still on his face, that his eyes were wide was almost…comical. It was cute. And it grounded you, out of the gutter.

“Nope. Now, let me see.” You returned to the task at hand, taking the towel from him and cleaning up the blood.

“You are full of surprises.”

“Not really.” You half laughed as you set the bloodied towel on the coffee table. You had meant that you had experience with blood quite often, once a month for a couple of days kind of often. But considering most men got queasy on that topic, you dropped it. “Looks like a little band aid won’t do.”

Every time you turned away from him, this time it was to get an antibiotic ointment, König had to remind himself to calm down. Your touch was so soft and gentle, he’d been treated for such lacerations more times than he could count, but the medics were never so gentle. Of course, you didn’t have a line of patients waiting on you, but that somehow made your attention all the more special. It was a good thing you could not see his face, he was sure his entire face up to his ears was red. He would look so much less cool, would ruin the lust he saw in your eyes when he took off his shirt, if you could see just how flustered he really was.

“Am I allowed to ask what happened?” You softly asked as you moved onto applying gauze.

“Nothing bad.” He leaned forward just enough to get a whiff of your shampoo, or maybe it was your lotion, either way an intoxicating and fitting scent. “An enemy managed to sneak up on me with a knife.”

You gasped and looked up at him, eyes wide once again but for an entirely different reason. “You said it was nothing bad!”

“It wasn’t!” He chuckled, hand moving to pat your knee. “This was all he got before I killed him!”

His wound completely bandaged now, you froze for a moment before quickly dropping your hands. “O-oh.”

Shit. Was that the wrong thing to say? You didn’t seem to mind the violence when he told you about the scar on his side, was mentioning that he killed someone too much? His stomach dropped, were you scared of him now? You gently removed his hand from your knee and started to quietly clean up. König swore his heart stopped beating for a moment. You were pushing him away.

“Please see a doctor or medic or whatever you have on base, tomorrow.”

While your voice was still soft, there was a cold edge to it that made König want to drop to his knees and beg you to forgive him.

“In the meantime, you should rest.” You finished and took his shirt from his lap and the bloodied towels and stood up.

He followed, at least he meant to, but you quickly turned and pointed back at the couch. “Rest.”

“Darling, please. I don’t need- This is fine. I am fine.”

You crossed your arms, and narrowed your eyes at him. “König.” You dragged out his name in warning. “Sit down. And rest.”

He sighed and sat back down, grateful for the soft blanket you had draped over the couch. The air suddenly felt cold without you next to him.

You put away the first aid kit and dumped the bloodied towels and his shirt in the wash, luckily noticing that you also had blood on your shirt, probably from when you hugged him. You glanced over at him and he was staring straight ahead, not moving, and quickly ducked into your room. You changed your shirt, and made sure you didn’t have any more blood on you (you didn’t), before adding your shirt to the wash and returning to the living room.

He looked so massive seated like that on your couch. He was slouched a little, legs spread, right knee bouncing nervously, and his arms crossed over his chest. Oh. Maybe you should send him home now, he was half naked in your home now, after all.

König looked up when you came back and froze, heat instantly returning to his face and chest and ears and. He swallowed thickly and forced his eyes up. You had changed from a large t-shirt to a fitted, low cut, tank top. You were looking at him with a raised brow. Shit. Had you asked him something and he missed it because he was too busy staring at your chest?

“Are you sure you’re okay? See, this is why I told you to rest.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He repeated, standing up and taking a few steps, standing close enough to you that you had to crane your head back just to keep eye contact.

“Where are you going?” You shouldn’t be trying to stop him from leaving, but, heart racing and blush heating your face and all, you still wanted to spend time with him.

“Oh, you know.” How could you hear his grin under that mask? “Just to work out.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” He shrugged. “Lift some weights.”

“König.”

“Maybe some pull ups.”

“Just sit back down.”

He sighed and did as you said. “I told you-”

“If you don’t rest, I’ll make you rest!” In essence, you already were! He was sitting back on the couch!

He chuckled, “oh yea? How?”

“I’ll! I’ll, uhm…”

“You’ll what?” Now he was laughing. It was cute how you thought you could make him do anything! (even though you just did…)

Frustrated that you could think of nothing to make him listen, you shouted a last resort: “I’ll sit on you!”

König stopped laughing and blinked at you. “...what?”

You crossed your arms. “You heard me.”

The silence that followed dragged on for a second too long, you shifted your weight nervously, and König suddenly started laughing again, loud and gasping for breath, as if what you said was the funniest thing ever. “You’ll sit on me! Is this a dream?”

Even if you had understood the German, it would have been difficult to make out what he was saying between all the laughing. You glared at him, misinterpreting his words as a challenge. “Don’t think I won’t do it!”

His head dropped to the back of the couch and he slapped his thigh, “do it, love!” He sat back up, chuckles still falling from his mouth, “go on. Sit on me!”

You tried to keep glaring at him while your mind struggled to translate unknown words into English. You were pretty sure he was just repeating what you said, like he didn’t believe you. Well, he was wrong!

He finally stopped laughing and sighed, you were always so willing in his dreams. “Not a dream, yea? I thought so.”

He tensed, like he was going to stand back up, and you moved quicker than he thought you could, not that he was going to stop you. Just like you “threatened”, you sat on him! Your hands were on his shoulders and you were straddling his lap. He froze for a moment, his mind trying to catch up with his racing heart, and looked up at you.

“Rest.”

He swallowed and nodded. “Ok.” His hands moved from his sides to run up your thighs, his thumbs playing at the hemline of your shorts before you snatched up his hands.

“Hey!” You dropped his hands, letting them fall back onto the cushions, and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Only good boys get to touch.”

König’s head flew back and he groaned, hips unintentionally thrusting up. He was panting, as if he’d been holding his breath for far too long, and looked up at you. “I can be good!”

You half gasped and half giggled at his reaction, your blood practically sending fire to your face as your heart raced in a mix of excitement and nervousness. You thought he’d laugh at you again, instead he shifted beneath you, and looked up at you with big desperate eyes.

“Please.” König pleaded, hands digging into the cushions. If he needed to be good, then he couldn’t touch you again without permission. But it was so hard! You were so close to him, your weight on his lap giving such nice pressure, if only you would scoot a little closer! His eyes rolled back and his head dropped onto the couch again, as he imagined, prayed for, you rolling your hips, grinding onto his growing bulge.

You were still though, no longer even touching him as you crossed your arms. “Hmm. Are you sure? No working out?”

He looked at you again and shook his head vigorously. “No. No, I won’t!”

“Noo, lifting weights?”

“No!”

“No pull ups?” “No! I’ll be good, I promise!”

You giggled, heart still racing at how quickly he got riled up.

He whined and shifted under you again, not in an attempt to get you to touch him, but just to alleviate his need for space.

“Then,” you uncrossed your arms and gently took his chin in one hand, forcing him to look at you again. “What are you going to do, König?”

He swallowed again, lips darting out of his mouth to lick his lips. Your soft, gentle, sweet little touch that he could barely feel through his hood might as well have been an iron grip, for all that he was willing to give you control of his body. He blinked, eyes searching yours for the answer you wanted to hear. “Ah, rest.”

You smiled and dropped your hand, though he remained still. “And?”

König’s heart dropped, his stomach alight with butterflies, and licked his lips again. “Touch you?”

You laughed, and he laughed with you for a moment, before you shook your head. “Noo. What are you going to do tomorrow?”

“Oh! Medic!”

“That’s right!” You cheered and much to his disappointment, climbed off of him.

He panted for breath and tried to follow you without standing up (not until you gave him permission to), and leaned forward. You chuckled and held your hand out to him, “come on.”

He jumped up, reaching out not for your hand, but for your waist. But your hand on his chest stopped him, “you can tell me what the medic says tomorrow.”

He once again found himself frozen and unable to think clearly. “...what?”

You started to guide him towards the door, “oh and I’ll drop off your shirt tomorrow too.”

“What?”

You opened the door and nudged him through it. “Welcome home, König. Good night.”

König stared at your closed door for half a minute before he leaned against it, his hand flying to the doorknob and finding it securely locked. Good. But…he sighed, “good night, angel.”

[More Neighbor König]

Tagging: @warrior-of-justice

#midwesternwitchery #könig x reader #könig x fem reader #neighbor!könig #blurb #short #sorta just for organizational purposes #also i feel like this was a fluffy or hurt/comfort request but my hormones were out of control while i was writing most of it #i may have messed up the request #sorry #🤦‍♀️#wc: 2753 #almost as much as the first part

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kingkatsuki · 4 months

Text

— addiction

Yep, so he got me. I’m already obsessed, cannot be saved.

Warnings: 18+, friends with benefits, public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, not proofread.

Pairing: Engine/Enjin x f!reader.

Word Count: 2k.

“Smoking is bad for you, you know.” You smirk at the irritated expression that appears on Enjin’s face as he cups his palm around his lighter, flicking his thumb over the spark.

It takes a few times for the battered zippo to start, the engraving on the worn silver not even to him. Another prize picked out of the junk thrown into the Abyss.

He ignores your teasing as the stick illuminates, pocketing his lighter as he inhales deeply. Catching it between his thumb and forefinger as he blows a thick plume of smoke into the evening air, watching the silvery wisps disappear into the atmosphere.

“You don’t say,” Enjin plants a booted foot against the wall behind him as he leans back, bringing the cigarette back to his lips to take another long drag.

It’s moments like this you cherish the most, one of the simple frivolities of the Abyss— the times you get the leader alone.

“Could kill you.” You move closer now, invading his personal space like you often do. Surrounding yourself in the scent of him, a mixture of smoke, sweat and the drugstore aftershave that would’ve been cheap in Heaven but is premium below.

“There’s a lot of other things that could kill me down here first,” He scoffs, blowing another cloud of smoke directly into your face, “Oi—”

You catch him off guard as you snatch the cigarette that’s dangling between his lips, smirking at the wide-eyed look of annoyance on his face as you drop the stick to the floor. Your heeled boots quick to stomp on it, extinguishing the flame as he practically lifts you off the ground to try and salvage it. Hands firm on your hips as he looks down at the broken, mangled tobacco.

“Do you know how much that cost?” He groans.

“You get paid well as a Janitor, I’m sure you can always buy—” You begin to tease, but before you manage to finish your sentence Enjin’s grip on your waist tightens as he shifts positions to press your back up against the cold brick wall.

He knows your games all too well, and knows how to beat you at them. Your taunting no match for his sheer display of strength as he turns the tables, caging you between him.

“You’re such a brat,” Enjin growls, his lanky body towers over you as he corners you like a hungry wolf. The poor little lamb can do nothing but stare up at its captor as your eyes meet his burning gaze, the fragments of smoke still seared into his lungs pepper your face as you fist the hem of his trench coat.

“But isn’t that why you like me?” You coo back, and it’s enough to have Enjin seeing red.

His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s almost bruising, teeth clash as your hands tug him closer. Trying impossibly to deepen the kiss as your tongue lashes against his incisors, swallowing the final bits of smoke that leave his lungs.

You always claim he’s addicted to the drug, when Enjin refutes he could go cold turkey at any time. But truth be told, you were the real drug he was addicted to, and there was no way he’d ever want to quit.

Deft fingers search a path they’ve followed a thousand times before, disappearing beneath his red vest as you scratch against the blond hairs that rest below his bellybutton. Feeling his chest concave as you raise goosebumps against his skin, teasing touches are no match for Enjin’s brute force as he copies you in this dangerous game of cat and mouse. Slender fingers push your shirt up over your chest to reveal your naked breasts to his hungry gaze, completely unbothered that anyone could see you like this. His fellow janitors, his team, barely a few meters away as they settle inside the rowdy dive bar. Other punters could step outside and look down the shrouded alley to see you in such a compromising position, if any of them were to desire that sudden burst of nicotine.

“Fuck, I missed these.” Enjin groans as he massages your breasts in his hands, rough thumbs flicking over your puffy nipples as he turns them into stiff peaks. Circling your darkened areola as he bends his body to latch on, tonguing the sensitive skin before pulling it between his teeth.

You’re desperate now, even more so than when you entered the alleyway in search of him. Following his footsteps as he stepped outside, the throb between your thighs guiding you on your way as you longed to feel him buried back inside you.

“Don’t tease me,” You beg, pathetically tugging at his belt, but the plea falls on deaf ears as he pulls back from your chest with a satisfied smack. The cool evening air dries his spit against your skin, causing you to shiver as Enjin’s hand disappears beneath your skirt to cup your wet heat.

“Fuck,” He groans, palming the sopping material of your panties as you shamelessly grind yourself down on him, “This all for me?”

He asks the question as though there would be anyone else that could make you feel like this, anyone else that would have you standing exposed in a dingy alleyway outside a rowdy dive bar.

“It’s you,” You hum, “Its always you.” And it’s the answer he covets as he hooks his fingers in the hem of your panties to tug them down your thighs in one swift motion.

He’s always so kind and considerate as he helps you step out of them, leaving the fabric dangling daintly around one ankle as he raises your thigh against his hip. Pressing his hard cock against you, and you can feel how desperate he is even through the layers of clothes. Just like Enjin can feel your heartbeat pounding through your clit as his rough trousers catch against it, leaving silvery lines of your slick against his crotch as he grinds against you.

“Look at the mess you’re making,” His voice rumbles, “Barely even touched you.”

“Please, Enjin.” You whine, the sound of his name uttered from your lips is almost enough to have him seeing stars. The desperate lilt to your voice paired with the saccharine look in your eyes is enough to have him tugging at his belt as he tugs his pants down just enough to free his aching cock.

The sight of him is always enough to make your mouth water, licking your bruised lips as you reach out a greedy hand his reflexes are fast enough to bat away.

“Behave,” He responds curtly, as if he isn’t the one that has you in this position.

It’s erotic the way he wraps a palm around himself, rolling his wrist over the bulging tip as he smears pre along the length. Canting his hips forward to drag his cock through your messy folds, disappearing between them as he coats himself in your slick. The moment he nudges your clit has you mewling pathetically, ashamed that someone— a man, no less, has reduced you to this.

But it’s not your fault, it can’t be when he’s built like this. Intimidating tattoos and piercings that mask the warmth hidden beneath them, the way he guards you with such love and care even when his grip against you is lusty.

“If you don’t fuck me now I’m going back inside.” You gamble, knowing all too well that he’d see right through it.

You’d have to rub your clit raw to even come close to feeling the same euphoria Enjin had you feeling with minimal effort. Many nights spent alone touching yourself to the thought of him couldn’t compare to the way his hands felt as they explored your body.

“Liar.” Enjin grinned, pushing the fat tip of his cock against your tight entrance just to watch the way your body keened. A silent gasp from parted lips as you tried to roll your hips to draw him inside, his grip tight against your waist as he held you steady, “Well go on then.”

Enjin knew you weren’t going anywhere, not when your body was crying out so perilously for him. It was always a playful game of who would break first, and he’d always swear blind it was you.

“Watch me— oh, shit.” Your eyes rolled as you felt the blunt tip of his cock breach your tight entrance, his forking veins catch against your spongy inner walls as he moulds your cunt into the shape of him. Creating a delicious friction as he gives you a fleeting moment to adjust to the size, especially with no prep as he presses a lingering peck to your parted lips.

“Yeah?” A smug grin appeared across his cheeks like the cat that got the cream, “Didn’t think so, pretty.”

Enjin set a rough pace, yellow eyes glancing towards the entrance to the alley to check for unwanted voyeurs as he fucked into your pliant body with vigour. Each harsh thrust had his hips snapping against yours, the smack of skin against skin a constant rhythm as you clung to his broad shoulders. Pulling him down into another sloppy kiss to try and mask the desperate moans that poured from your throat, sharp nails digging into his skin as he fucks into you.

“I’ll never get tired of this sloppy pussy,” He whispered against your lips, catching his bottom one between your teeth as you tugged. Drawing a debauched grunt from deep in his chest as your cunt pulses around his cock from his words, pressing your body against the wall with more power as he carried you both towards your bliss.

The messy hairs at the base of his cock tickle your clit with each forward motion, enough to have you seeing stars as he wills your body to cum for him. Pulling back to stare down at you through half-lidded eyes as he snaps his hips, his cockhead kissing your cervix with each thrust as you begin to tremble in his arms. Your leg turns to jelly as you try to keep yourself upright, his body the only thing stopping you from tumbling to the floor.

“I know you’re close, sweetheart.” He croons, “I can feel you squeezing me.”

You are. The coil inside you dangerously close to snapping as he reaches between your bodies to press a calloused thumb against your puffy clit, rubbing messy circles against it as you succumb to the pleasure. Fat pearly tears cling to your lashes as you cry out for him, his name tumbles from your lips as your orgasm crashes over you in harsh waves coming into shore.

“That’s it— good girl,” He feels it before you do, the telltale sign of your climax as your walls begin to pulse around him in a greedy attempt to milk him of his release, “Good fucking girl.”

He doesn’t stop, even when you’re gushing around him as he fucks into you with renewed vigour, hungrily chasing his own release as you will him to cum. Nails drag through the messy hairs at the base of his undercut as you scratch at his scalp. His nose scrunches as he meets his own end, burying hot ropes of cum inside your wet cunt with a groan of your name.

It’s enough that for a few simple moments you can picture yourself somewhere— anywhere else with him. The perfect dream you’ve conjured in your mind as you get to lay together without dealing with the harsh realities that come with fraternising with a Janitor.

You both linger in the alley, Enjin’s face buried in the curve of your neck as he breathes in the scent of you. His tongue peeks out to taste the thin sheen of sweat that coats your skin as you shudder beneath him, your cunt pulses around his spent cock in retaliation.

“Fuck,” He reluctantly pulls out as the mixture of your release follows, leaving silvery strings against his cock while it drools out of you and coats your inner thighs, curving his back to get a better look at the debauched sight, “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Not if the cigarettes don’t get you first.” You grin.

#engine x reader #Enjin x reader #engine smut #Enjin smut #gachiku #gachiakuta Enjin x reader #gachiakuta engine x reader #gachiakuta engine smut #gachiakuta Enjin smut #gachiakuta x reader #gachiakuta smut

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dairy-farmer · 5 months

Note

Is me~ back to haunt you Ask Box o/ because I just had A Thought(tm)

What if~? The OPPOSITE of my Magic Sex Toy idea? Uno Reverse?

But how would that even work? You say. Tim would very obviously notice!

Oh ho ho~ ye of little Faith! *slaps my "join the Church of Civilian Tim" poster I obviously made myself* CONSIDER! Not a cape! Semi-stable schedules!

We open our scene with stalking. As ya do. Tim would prefer you call it "bird watching" or "observing the night life" but... let's be real here. Stalking. He's getting them NICE Premium Pics for his Definitely-Not-A-Stalker-Shrine. There's a newbie on the scene. A gaudy robe wearing mofo.

3 guess what HIS shtick is. First two don't count.

But! Thing is? Tim is no long a wee baby faced pre-teen. He is a Man(tm). Legally, twice over. And well... you find a LOT if Neat Late Night Shops running after the bats. He may have been persuaded by CERTAIN libidos that maybe he should check them out. Who can say? You can't prove ANYTHING. These bags are groceries and no you can't check..

Where was he? Ah, right, Pics of the Nightwing booty. *click*

Tim forgets Rule Number 1.5: ALWAYS keep an eye on what the villian is doing.

By the way... what that bright light? Oh, just a SPELL BOLT. Fuckin DODGE, MAN!

He fails to dodge.

🥺 H-His camera... Night-booty... Also why does he feel? Tingly? He doesn't stick around to figure it out. Grabs his TRAGICLY dead camera and bolts. Not getting caught at the scene of the stalking TODAY, no sir! Batmans definitely gonna check the area and he SHANT be there! Early night it is!

He gets back to his apartment. Still feels tingly... but less? Maybe those charms he looked up how to make protected him after all. Still, shouldn't push his luck, you know? He settles in for the night. Gets a warm shower.

Comes out and eyes the bags he dropped by the bed... and... well...

He DID wrap up early~ Maybe treat for Timmy time. He digs them out.

Weird.

They? We're already pretty life like (it's why he bought them) but... when he TOUCHES one? He swears it gets MORE life like? He really should look this up or something... suspect toys in Gotham and all... but on the other hand? Horny. And the boxes WERE closed. It's fiiiiine.

But which one? It's kinda been a while. And he doesn't want to be sore tomorrow. This one!

So Tim lays back. Let's himself enjoy working himself open. Then works the fake(?) Cock inside himself. And oh~ it's WARM. Twitchs. He let's himself enjoy a slow, lazy session. Get really sloppy and relaxed before finally finding juuust the right angle aaaand~

Across the city, the current Robin, Damian Wayne, is shaking APPART on a roof top. Sweat pouring down his temple, thighs trembling as he tries ro stop himself from rutting up into empty air. It won't help. Won't make the damnable TEASING go any faster. Wet and tight and PERFECT around him.

Came out of NOWHERE. One second he was patrolling, the next barely catching himself from falling. Stumbling into an alchove on some god forsaken roof. Hands fumbling to turn off his comms. Absolutely not. They could NOT hear him like this.

Panting into hands pressed tight over his own mouth to stiffle the sound he wants to make. Beg and demand that magnificent heat go FASTER. Plunge him DEEPER. But he CANT. Because there's no one there. Just him and the slowly increasing pressure in his balls, begging for relief.

Then, like prayers answered, it DOES. He could WEEP. Can't stop the aborted jerks of his hips as he chases his relief. Soon is trembling like the virgin he ISNT anymore as he spills into... into SOMEONE.

They take it so well. So perfectly.

He's RUINED. His hand will never be enough after this. And Tim has no idea.

Sure, he's not stupid. He didn't buy toys the fake cum. (So to be safe plan B it is) But? In the cold like of day? Prooooobably magic sex toys. Eh. It's Gotham. Not the weirdest thing to happen. Tim's keeping them.

And using them.

Thus begins the "phantom lover" incident, as Bruce will insist on calling it. Because "we were haunted by random fuckings" sounds... unprofessional. And he's a Dramatic Bitch at heart.

Damian, obviously, told NO ONE. Patrol? Utterly normal. Mind you business. But Bruce? Uncomfortable conversations for EVERYBODY~☆

See, Tim has a long day. His new camera isn't gonna be in for a WEEK. There is no point in going out. So his evening stretchs long and empty before him. Which... SPEAKING of things both long and things empty... >.>

He remembers. There was an absolute UNIT that he bought. It also has that base... which mean he could put it on the sex pillow. Try riding it... oh he's GOTTA, now.

Lucky for Bruce, he's not even in the cave when it hits. Unluckily, it is a cock teasing hell. Nothing to hold. No body to press close. No skin to run his hands across or ears to whisper filthy praise. So TIGHT. Fluttering and fighting to take him. Sinking little by little. Can't even HEAR him praising them. He can't even distract them, rub their clit and sooth them as muscles relax.

Can't hold them by the hips and work them up and down. They way he knows will work best. At angles that will make them SOB. Just nothing, nothing, nothing. Trembling and eager around him but so SLOW. Pausing again and again to adjust. Can't thrust in, can't pull out, only TAKE it. Let himself be teased.

But OH. When they finally, FINALLY get a rythme? He knows they can hear a word he says. Not yet. But the FILTH he growls. The audacity of what they're doing. He's GOING to find them. Going to pin them done and-

Tim spend the next day sore, but happy. Definitely not an "every day" sort of toy, but holy shit the orgasm. He hasn't slept this well in a WHILE. Though... when he wakes up? The Bats are acting weird. Violent, hyper-focused, seemly shaking down leads with a single minded enthusiasm. Weird.

Speaking OFF. Now he's wondering... does the possibly fake cum... TASTE like real cum?

One way to find out.

And... look. Dick may have been warned, but it's one thing to hypothetically get your bits milked dry and another to be doubled over seeing the face of god. He would gladly kill a man for the ability to grab hold of whoever is doing this and ram home. The mouth on him is a thing of wonder and it keeps TEASING the tip. They keep running soft, pampered, little hands up and down his length. God he wants them to feel him in their GUT. Fuck their face and their ass and any OTHER holes they have til everything is sloppy and wet and-

Yep! From the tast flooding Tim's mouth, that's real cum. Good his he got his shot. But it begs the question... whoms't exactly is he fucking? Tim's not sure he's comfortable with random hook ups. What if, Gods forbid, it linked him to the JOKER or something!? He'd have to blow up the city and everyone in it.

He considers this as he resumes his sta- he means, BIRD watching. Newly be-camera-d. Weirdly enough, now Nightwing is acting off too. What is going ON? Also... he could of SWORN he saw the Red Hood a second ago. Did he leave? Aaw D:>

.....what's that sound?

*boss music starts playing* That would be the Red Hood. Owner of the mythical Common Sense gene. HE immediately phoned a friend! And by THAT we mean he beamed up to The Watchtower to get poked at by magic users until he had a scanner.

Beep beep, mother fucker. You have explaining to do.

OR, counter argument.... Tim makes a run for it. Doesn't GET far. But he Sure Did Try! Jason is unamused. Consent is sexy, kids. And he has the gun to explain that. But! TIM has the panic babbling to explain his horny stupidity and innocence.

Fair enough. He's confiscating them though. If you get horny, just fucking ask.

Wait.... really? Does Jason really mean that?

And... two things. Cute Horny Idiot knows his identity. And.... he never said HE wasn't also apparently a horny idiot. Sure, why the fuck not.

He confiscate the magic contraband... then bends that twink in HALF. Comms off, back into it. Tim can barely breathe, pressed down so tightly to the bed as his guts get re-arranged, callused hands holding his legs spread, his childhood hero rumbling FILTH into his ear as hips snap against his, again and again and AGAIN. The world is hot and fuzzy around the edges and... AND-!

Jason's pretty damn smug that HES not only the one who found mystery twink, but them fucked him incoherent. He seriously considers just... not saying anything. Whoops! Nothing to find here folks. To bad the Watchtower is a fuckin snitch.

So obviously Bruce finds out. And wants to "talk to him". Which inevitably ends with Tim, pressed close to his front, held still as he "fucks him properly". Which as far a Tim is concerned is a god damned excuse to EMPALE him on his monster of a cock. Work it deeper and deeper, all while holding him like a lover, as he absolutely DESTROYS Tim's poor puss. Makes him lose count of how many times he's gotten off. Until everything is too bright and hyper sensitive. Til it's nearly hurting but not quite there and all Tim can think about, as he whimpers and drools, is SLEEP.

Oh... and THEN he wants to talk about how Tim knows their secret identies. Ask him in the morning or Tim WILL cry at you.

He wakes up in Wayne Manor. He did not go to sleep in Wayne Manor. He can't move his lower body with out pain. Bruce is clearly pretending he planned that. Liar.

Then? Karma. His horny chickens come home to roost. Has Bruce introduced you to his sons? This is Dick and Damian. They remember you. And would like a "word".

(The word is sex and they would like it as soon as possible)

👀👀👀!!!!!!!!!!!! a reverse magic sex toy!!!!!!!!!!!!! where tim tortures the other bats by fucking his little pussy with their cocks while they're forced to just suffer and endure it until he's finished. more than once they almost scream from frustration because tim finishes before they do and he pulls them out of his warm, slick little hole. 👀👀👀👀

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #brutim #dicktim #damitim #jaytim

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first-edition · 6 months

Text

Moon boys (Steven grant/ Marc Spector/Jake lockley X Fem! Reader)

Sum- Night before christmas your husbands give you a special gift.

Warnings- Oral sex (fem recv.), SEX. P-in-V, Unprotected, rough sex, hair pulling, light slapping, squirting, mirror kink (if you squint.), riding, pet names, mention of both male and female parts, cussing, 18+ language and themes, after care, long intercourse, hickies, my ditty google translate Spanish. (Sorry)

SMEI-PROOF-READ sorry for errors (suck it up)

THIS IS NOT INTENDED FOR THOSE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 READ WITH CAUTION AND HAPPY SMUTMAS.

Sitting on the bed, legs crossed, you watch as Steven feeds his fish the premium fish food he got for christmas.

“There you go gus…special food.” he says watching him eat it.

“What are you doing baby?” Marc speaks as he stands putting the food to the side.

“Nothing.. Just watching you both talk to the fish.” you smile looking up to him as he walks to you standing in front of you.

“I got all the presents wrapped and under the uh…tree.” you say looking over at the fake little tree that sits on a box in the corner of the room.

“Hmm. Steven not get a real one this year?” he asks you to shake your head.

“It's okay though.” you say scooching back onto the bed as he kneels on it the covers dipping under his weight. His lips connect with yours as you both share a passionate kiss.

His lips move to your jaw line.

“Fuck…you smell so good.” he grunts into your neck leaving sloppy kissing behind. His hands move under your shirt. You feel his calloused fingers against the skin of your waist moving higher to connect to your breast as his thumb brushes over your nipple.

“I know you feel so much better.” he says gruffly in your ear causing blush to attack your face your breathing speeding up. You take his face in your hands connecting his lips with yours. His hand leaves your chest and moves to your thigh pulling your legs apart lifting your leg up and around his waist holding onto your thigh before leaning back from your lips and pulling off his shirt.

His scarred, ripped chest mouthwatering to your sight. He pulls off his belt discarding it and his shirt somewhere in the room. He comes right back to your lips kissing you deeply breathing in your scent. Your hands feel along his skin. Breaking the kiss for s second once more to pull your shirt off your breast free nipple harder from both arousal and cold air. Youre left in your small christmas themed panties.

“Imma give you over to steven baby huh?” Marc speaks lowly, glazing in the mirror after Stephen was yelling at him to go first.

“M-marc.” you breathly speak. He kisses down your body since they've learned to shift without it looking like a seizure; it's seamless to his voice shifting into Steven's sweet English accent.

“I'm going to take these off now, love.” he speaks softly which makes you giggle at his politeness where Mark would rip them off without asking.

You nod to him and he pulls off your panties, mouth watering at the sight of you always so wet and ready for him.

Before any other word or action can be done he grips your thighs throwing them over his shoulders and diving face first into your cunt his skilled tounge immedtley finding your clit suckling and swirling.

“A-ah! f-Fuck! Ste-steven!” you scream out in pure pleasure of a moan as you weren't expecting such pleasure so fast it shocked you. He answers you with a moan, the vibration hitting a new type of nerve.

Your hand finds his hair gripping his fluffy curls, your other hand gripping the bed sheet under you, your back arching. His tongue dips into your entrance back to your clit over and over as your writhe in pleasure. He will never miss the chance to eat you out so good you go absolutely brain dead for him.

Marc should be waiting in his headspace but he sits in the reflection with Jake, arms crossed, watching as you moan and whine under Steve's firm grip holding onto your thighs. The sight of his alter makes you feel the best turning him on even more. Making him more excited for his turn.

“St-steven..ah sl-slow down. Ngh!” you gasp out back arching as you feel your climax approaching. But he does the exact opposite and wraps his arms around each thigh sitting up kneeling sitting back on his heels pulling your body up with him your lower half off the bed.

You gasp as you make eye contact with him, his eyes dark and lust blows before your eyes roll back cumming into your husband's mouth.

You grip the sheets tightly as your orgasm washes over you. Giving your cunt one last drag lick of his tongue does he carefully set you down licking his lips before wiping his mouth like he just devoured his dinner.

You pant fuck out already with out even any dick. Steven glances at the mirror and Marc fronts getting up off the bed pulling off his pants, his already hardened cock leaking and twitching in his grasp.

“You ready for round two baby?” he asks not really wantign an answer as he’ll fuck you anyway.

“Wh-what?” you ask not to hear him. But before you can decipher the message he pulls your legs again rubbing his tip up and down against your used slit. You flinch in pleasure as he brushes over your stimulated clit.

“Come here honey.” he says taking your arms placing them around his neck as he allows you to brace for the fucking hes gonna give you.

He slides in easily as you were well teased before. Bottoming out in you in no time he begins to thrust up into you.

“Shit…” he groans, feeling you clench down around him. Your nails dig into his skin as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Ma-a-a-arc!” you moan out as he impales you over and over his member is perfect in every way filling you so good.

“You fucking slut baby, my fucking slut huh?” he groans.

“yes - ah -y-yours.” you moan uncontrollably as he pulls your leg over his shoulder kissing and marking up your inner thigh. He pants and groans at your pulsing walls as he takes you over and over.

He leans back slighting allowing his hand to dip between you his thumb connecting to your overly sensitive clit and with a view rubs you cum on his cock mouth opening into an o face beautifully contorting. Your clenching cunt around him makes Marc cum deep into you with a moan.

He lets go of your leg carefully taking it off his shoulder resting it on the bed making sure to stay in between your legs. He leans down to you kissing your face and neck making you giggle. Marc chuckles into your neck as you wrap your arms around him pulling him down to you.

“Don't say that,” he says.

“I didn't say anything.” you speak.

“Mm-mm not you baby, jake.” he says, glancing back at the mirror set up in the corner of the room, a hidden kink between the two of you.

You turn your head, you see you and Marc are still tangled in each other, you smirk before pushing Marc over to your on top of him. You look behind you at the mirror before Marc smacks his hand down on your ass making you gasp and giggle again.

“Come on Jake, honey, if you got something to say. say it to my face…papi.” you joke the last word. The once soft placement of Marc's hand on your ass turns into a tight grip.

“I was saying, that if you can smile and laugh you havent been fucked rough enough.'' Jake says you look down seeing your other lover. Hard blush now pasting your cheeks.

“F-fuck.” you stutter not expecting him to actually front. Out of the three you rarely see jake he’ll only come out when both marc and steven arnt doing well and usually he’ll come out to give you the fucking of a life time. But on rare occasions he’ll join you in the shower just to run his hands along your body, tease you about and then help you dry and dress before cuddling for a bit before you wake up and either Marc or Steven are back. But goddamn is he good at after care.

His arm extends his hand wrapping around your throat snugly before he sits up. Your mouth falls agape.

“What? No smile for me Princessa?” He says you give a cocky smile before he slaps your cheek, not enough to do any true damage but just enough for you to feel as it goes straight to your pussy again squeezing around his now hardened dick.

“Smile again.” he says which comes out more like a threat as his lips grazing against your jaw line. You do so and in return get another slap making you giggle which pisses him off more he takes his other hand, the one he slapped you with, and pulls your head back by your hair causing a whimper out of you wiping the smile off your face.

He takes his handoff your throat and moves it to your hip patting your skin speaking his accent strong.

“Ride,” he speaks. You don't listen but once he gives a firm tug to your hair you whine and then move your hips forwards and back. His grip on your hair loses but not enough for you to look at him as you still look at the ceiling.

“Arms behind your back, hold your elbows.” He instructs you to immediately list and put them behind your back, bending them and holding onto your own elbows to keep them there much like how he would time them with his belt.

“Mm good girl.” he groans as your hips move against you forcing all of him to shift in you. Moving his hand from your hip to your breast he pinches your nipple playing with it while his mouth connects to the other one.

“J-jake.” you gasp out. He tugs on your hair and bites your nipple.

“Nuh uh!” he snaps at you.

“P-papi.” you stutter out.

He hums loosening the grip on your hair once again.

“Come on princess, you can ride better than that. Marc and Steven had you being a pillow princess, with me, you're gonna work for it.” he says slowly. You pick up the pace but unfortunately you feel as though you're not going to last long. Not with your clit rubbing against him and his cock hitting the perfect spots. He can feel you clenching around him as your movement becomes sloppy he lets go of you completely and grips both your hips stopping you forcing you to freeze your motions panting in ecstasy.

Your legs shake under you as your orgasm is put on hold. When your legs stop shaking and your breathing goes back to normal, Jake pats your thigh and lays back.

“Go again.” he says, your eyes widened as you look at him. He raises his eyebrow at you, tightening his grip on your thigh.

“¿Hice tartamudeo?” He asks you dont answer having known very very little Spanish or atleast what he's taught you.

“Did I stutter whore?” he asks again not wanting to ask again.

“No.” you answer only for a sting to hit your thigh as his hand slaps down against the skin.

“No papi.” you fix your mistakes quickly. Your hips begin to move again keeping your arms behind your back once again feeling the slow eventual build up of an orgasm. Once again he stops you in your lust filled state feeling your cunt fluttering around him making him go crazy on how you please him with being so obedient to his commands.

“Again,” he says. You let out a shaky breath and once again continue grinding against him. This time you reach your high faster but Jake can still tell but this time he doesn't stop you as he sees tears threatening at the corner of your eyes and your flushed body and worn out legs.

You reach behind you taking your arms untangling them and bringing your hands up to his chest to support yourself.

“Go on. Princessa cum for me hm?” he says as your nails dig into his chest making him groan in pleasure as you fuck yourself on him finally cumming.

“My turn.” he chuckles and grips your hips and roughly thrusts up into you causing you to scream out a moan. Your head falls forward, your hair falling in front of your face as you take his cock once again.

His hand shifts again to your clit making sure to fully overstimulate you. You hear his moans underneath you as you feel his dick twitch inside you signally he’s close.

“P-pa-api..ah ah!” you moan out the neighbors surely hearing you.

“Come on princessa squirt on me! hacer un lío hacer un lío.” he speaks

(make a mess)

“Agh fuck.” Jake groans out as he roughly thrusts up into you cumming deeply into you once again and as if on cue the last rub of your clit your body does exactly what he demanded. Your cunt squirts on him painting his abs.

He chuckles sitting up holding your head up from the back of your neck. Kissing your lips.

“Good girl.” he says. Before carefully pulling you off him and setting you down he gets you going to the bathroom turning on the bathtub water before wetting a washcloth with the warm water cleaning off his stomach from you and his cum. Hurryign back to you he sees you breathing lightly fucked out laying on your side nude in bed. You're covered in hickies.

“Princess.” he speaks calmly as he pulls his boxers off the floor pulling them on.

“Hey” he says moving your hair out of your face brushing his thumb against your cheek. You lean into his touch causing a smile to form on his face.

“You alright?” he asks you to nod your head.

“Come on.” he says, lifting you like a rag doll and pulling you up into his arms, lifting you off the bed before taking you to the bathroom to help clean up. He changes the sheets and helps you dry and dress before drifting back off to sleep with you.

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #Steven grant x reader smut #moon knight fanfiction #Marc spector #marc spector x reader #Marc Spector x reader smut #Jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockely smut #jake lockley x reader smut #Moon knight smut #moonknight x reader smut #Moon boys x reader smut #Steven grant x Marc Spector x jake lockley x reader smut #Steven grant x Marc spector x jake lockley x reader #jelsasnowflakessmutmas #smutmas 2023

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mariacallous · 4 months

Text

At the end of January, clips from a film about the housing market in Russian-occupied Mariupol began circulating on TikTok and X (formerly Twitter). After the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the Russian army held Mariupol under siege for 85 days, all the while relentlessly pummeling the city with missile and air strikes. Mariupol was effectively reduced to rubble, and no one knows how many lives were lost — though some estimates place the number as high as 100,000. As soon as the Russian authorities had captured the city, they set about rebuilding it and erasing any trace of war crimes.

The film, titled “Shocking Prices for Apartments in Mariupol — Millions for Ruins” was released in November on the YouTube channel “Mirnyie” (the plural form of “peaceful” in Russian and the first part of “peaceful inhabitants,” a Russian term used to distinguish non-combatants from military personnel in conflict zones). The Mirnyie project is led by “war correspondent” Regina Orekhova, a journalist from the Russian state news agency RIA Novosti. In 2022, she received a special award from the Russian Union of Journalists for “courage in fulfilling journalistic duty.”

The Mirnyie project, as one might surmise from its name, explores the lives of ordinary people in the conflict zone. “These are the stories of people who found themselves caught in the crossfire — some left, while others stayed. [We share] their experiences, how they survive, and what they think about,” reads the description. Judging by the channel, Orekhova primarily works in Mariupol. Previous reports of hers cover topics such as Azovstal’s underground tunnels, the sea port, city maternity hospitals, and the drama theater, which was destroyed by a Russian airstrike while an estimated 1,000 civilians were sheltering there.

In the introduction to the half-hour film, Orekhova promises to answer the following questions: “How do you buy an apartment in Mariupol? Is it more profitable to invest in ‘ruins’ that you can resell once renovated? How do you rent commercial space for a business here and how much does it cost? What kinds of apartments are for sale and what determines the price?” Orekhova explains that in Mariupol, there are “damaged buildings” as well as “brand new and renovated ones.” “The real estate market is very unconventional. We’ve studied it in detail and we’ll tell you all about it,” she promises.

Orekhova speaks with three local realtors who show her properties for sale in different parts of the city. As it turns out, these are mostly half-destroyed apartments, hastily abandoned by residents who left all their personal belongings behind as they fled. However, even such properties, according to the realtors, are in high demand. In some cases, actual ruins, where just parts of the walls survived the bombings, are for sale. However, Russian construction companies will restore these buildings later for free, which significantly increases prices. There’s also the rare property untouched by war, or newly renovated apartments in restored buildings. Prices for these range from four to six million rubles (about $50,000-$66,000). Apartments in historic Stalin-era buildings in the center of Mariupol with surviving inner courtyards (i.e., enclosed parking), renovated entrances, and sea views are considered premium housing.

The film doesn’t explain why or, more importantly, by whom all the housing in Mariupol was destroyed. Realtors talk evasively about “all those events” or “military actions.” Orekhova asks how many real estate agencies are currently operating in Mariupol. “Well, there aren’t many surviving citizens per square meter, you could say, but they exist, of course,” a realtor answers.

Showing a damaged three-room apartment in the center of Mariupol, real estate agent Natalia remarks that “one shouldn’t focus on the consequences of what happened to the apartment but on the apartment’s potential.” There’s no electricity, the ceiling is leaking, and personal belongings, including toys and a highchair, lie strewn about — but the windows have been replaced. Natalia points out the “magnificent view” from the balcony. “These buildings have survived more than one war and, as you can see, are still standing,” Natalia says encouragingly. According to her, it would be too painful for the previous owners to come back and see their home like this, which is why they’re looking to sell the apartment in its current condition.

The realtors say that apartments are mostly bought by newcomers “from big Russia” and bemoan that locals can’t afford newly constructed housing. According to them, Russian authorities introduced a special two percent mortgage rate for people from the self-proclaimed “Donetsk People’s Republic” and “Luhansk People’s Republic” who have Russian citizenship. But locals can’t get approved because most aren’t officially employed — there are no jobs with decent salaries in Mariupol.

Luisa, the head of a real estate management company, explains that it’s virtually impossible for Mariupol residents to get an apartment without Russia’s help. She says they “can’t afford to buy back their old homes in Mariupol or to purchase new ones.” When new construction is put up where their destroyed homes used to be, the mortgage payments are out of reach. Luisa recalls how an apartment building in the center, leveled in the bombings, was cleared away to make room for new construction. Residents were offered housing somewhere on the outskirts as compensation, but they weren’t able to buy apartments in the new building being built on their property, even though they’re legally registered at the address.

Tatiana, another realtor, thinks everything in Mariupol is “getting back on track.” She says people are returning, “even those who didn’t plan to.” “The demand [for apartments] is very high, much higher than the supply,” Tatiana explains. “If an apartment is in poor condition but at a good price, it goes quickly. The interested buyers are mainly newcomers. People from Siberia are also eyeing our seaside breeze.”

Tatiana tells Orekhova that everything is “looking up” for the city:

Mariupol has never experienced such rapid growth. The city is developing before our eyes. It’s happening in such a way that even we don’t know where things will improve tomorrow, where slums will turn into upscale neighborhoods. Because our sky is blue. When I say this, everyone smiles, actually. But before, our sky used to be gray or brown, never blue. And now life is getting better; every cloud has a silver lining. You just don’t want to remember the military operations; you go numb. But when you see what’s happening in Mariupol — everything will be fine, everything will work out.

#absolutely vile and disgusting

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recurring-polynya · 6 months

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Who wants a post about 🎶spirit phones??🎶

lol, j/k who doesn't want a post about spirit phones?

So, me and my kid have just hit the Advance Team filler, specifically #128, the first of the episodes about the Whistle Hollow, and it gave us some really good looks at everyone's spirit phone, starting with Matsumoto's fantastically be-dazzled, magenta model. It looks a lot like a Motorola Razr or a Nokia 6133. I'm gonna assume she managed to get it in a premium color and then decorated it herself.

Next, we see Hitsugaya's, which is not quite the same model, because Matsumoto's has the square external display, and his doesn't. Are they different model years, or does he have some sort of fancy captain model?

I also think it's interesting that his display features an actual map (left), instead of this absolutely incomprehensible crap Rukia's phone gave her back during the Quincy Archer Hates You! Hollow Bait debacle (right).

Here's the real reason I made this post because what the Hell is that, Yumichika??? There were lots of slider phones available at the time, but you didn't usually hold them vertically like that. Is it a T-Mobile Sidekick? (I had a friend who had one of these and it was so extra)

As far as I can tell, Ikkaku does not have a phone, Yumichika handles the telephony in the relationship.

Renji is not in this filler episode for some reason, but we see his phone a few episodes later, in 136. It's pretty hard to see here, but there are some better shots of it back in the Bount Arc, and I think it's pretty clearly the same phone.

It looks pretty similar to Matsumoto's, but his has a light just below the external display that blinks and beeps to indicate Hollow activity. Also, it's lavender.

Rukia has already left for Soul Society at this point, but we got a good look at her phone in the Bount Arc, which appears to be the same one she had in the Agent of the Shinigami Arc, down to the Chappy charm on it.

It looks very similar to Renji's, including the blinky Hollow light. Hers seems to have a grid of dots below the light. I think Renji's may actually have that, too, but the animators were too busy lovingly drawing his tits and pretty braid to worry about air flow to his spirit phone battery. (I support your life choices, nameless Pierrot animator!)

Here's the interface to Rukia's phone, which is significantly different from Hitsugaya's.

Normally, I would accuse Hitsugaya of having some older or cheaper model of spirit phone, but his actually looks significantly nicer than everyone else's (except Yumichika). It definitely looks like Rukia and Renji have the same model (I keep going back and forth over whether or not they are the same color. Rukia's def reads as grey to me and Renji's looks more lavender to me but idk. Maybe it's a trick of the lighting). Matsumoto has a similar, but not identical model. I feel like my takeaway from this is that shinigami have to buy their own phones-- Matsumoto splurged a little on color, Yumichika splurged a lot on rizz, and Rukia and Renji appear to be at the mercy of Byakuya's family plan. I feel like Hitsugaya didn't even have a phone before this and bought one expressly for this mission, which is why his is nicer than it would otherwise be.

#spirit phones #advance team arc #toshiro hitsugaya #rangiku matsumoto #yumichika ayasegawa #ikkaku madarame #renji abarai #rukia kuchiki #i got my first cell phone because i was going to an academic conference across the country I FEEL YOU hitsugaya #i think it might have been a motorola razr actually #why do spirit phones use the same iconography for the battery meter and signal strength as human do? this is the real question

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 8 months

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Hood Nigga Deluxe 2

Fontaine × Black Reader

Part 1

Idea: You fell underneath the warmth of a self-proclaimed hood nigga for Spooky Szn and you've got a big secret that he doesn't know and you can't tell him.

Tags: smut, betrayal, date activity, spooky szn, smoking, blood play, dark romance

You're oversleeping a Saturday morning away when the obnoxiously booming bass of a familiar song explodes from car speakers, effectively waking you up. There goes Fontaine's annoying ass subwoofers disturbing the peace. Groggy, you throw your feet to the floor and get yourself together with minimal basic hygiene and a basic ass fit.

"You aint call, my nigga?" Falling into the passenger seat, you're a little agitated and still tired.

"Something came up."

You know what that means. It's some chitty chitty bang bang hood shit that you don't wanna be looped into.

"But I've got a few hours. You up for that shit we talked about?"

You kiss your teeth, mood lifting. "Yeah nigga..."

The ride out has a flow. You gotta pass the densely packed urban areas to get to the more rural developments where there are actually trees and grass. The country road lined with tall and vivid green trees on both sides brings you great peace. You feel like a giddy child, the closer to the destination you get.

"It's a different world outside here," you sigh, taking in all the greenery as he parks in an open lot surrounded by fields.

He turns the car off along with Lil Baby. Almost immediately, he's reaching in the glove compartment, pushing aside the black and milds and going under the gun for the backwoods cigarillos and weed.

You ignore the five wads of cash banded up as he closes the compartment and starts assembling a blunt, his expert fingers wrapping quickly.

"I can't believe we're going apple picking," you smile in disbelief. "Doesn't this go against your natural programming as a self-proclaimed hood nigga?"

"I'm not the activity type if that's what you mean," he mutters.

"It is. Why you don't ever ride out to get away from the bullshit? You got a whole car."

He takes a pull, and your mouth nearly waters, knowing exactly how it feels and what it tastes like. He passes it, giving you your moment.

"I stay where I know people."

You blow your smoke as you nod, fully understanding. "Not that there's anything wrong with that... but that's why you have me to broaden your horizons. We ain't finna get turnt at an orchard, but we can have fun, forget being broke or having responsibilities for a lil while, let the magic take over."

"Magic," he echoes.

"Magic," your fingers spread and wiggle.

The orchard doesn't disappoint. There are apples EVERYWHERE. In the trees, different kinds of trees. On the ground, making it hard to find spots near the trees to walk by. They're yellow and green for the most part and beautiful. Real and natural gmo free apples. Families are scattered with kids playing in the crisp air. Fontaine gravitates to a grove of ripe red ones where he bites into one fresh from the vine. You follow suite enjoying one of the most fresh, crunchy, sweet, and juicy tasting apples you've ever had.

"I'm still confused on how you eat."

You take another big bite. "Food is a comfort. I eat it for the feeling and the taste like chewing gum, but blood is that premium. It's got the nutrients and vitamins that a growing girl needs."

"You probably need a fix right now."

"You offering?"

"Yeah. Come here," he pulls down the bulky lining of his hoodie, revealing your go-to spot.

You rest a light hand on his shoulder and squeeze as you sink your teeth into the designated area of skin, careful not to drip or spill the earthy and metalic juice of life. He's used to the impact, and you're starting to think that he likes the little nibble of pain. Getting your dose for the moment, you keep in mind the environment. Y'all are in the middle of a grove among families. Young love in the air is cute, but you can't go too far. You lick your lips clear of blood as you pull back to wipe the corners of your lips.

"You ever thought you'd be dealing blood?" You smirk and start walking, knowing damn well you're his first.

"It's not really dealing if I don't get paid."

"I offered to pay you."

"Don't nobody want ya lil dingy money."

You giggle softly and the two of you walk together with a basket, picking up and pulling pretty apples to take home.

But first, you find the stands offering apple everything.

"There are two different kinds of hot apple cider, Fontaine. Did you know there was more than one apple cider? I thought apple cider was apple cider." You get a cup of both for comparison's sake. "Why am I the guinea pig when my favorite flavor is metal... this one," you raise the left cup.

That's the one he tries as you watch to see if he likes it. He shrugs.

"At least you tried it."

Interestingly enough, he finishes it and ends up getting more. It must be growing on him the more he tastes it.

"That was fun," you exclaim, once back in the car with the apples, applesauce, apple butter, and apple juice in the back. "Would you do it again next year?"

"Hm," he sighs.

"Don't bullshit me, Fontaine."

"Yeah, I'll come back."

You smile wide in a close-lipped show of high cheeks. "Where to?"

"I got a couple.. things to take care of so I can drop you home."

"That works. Stay safe. Try not to do anything too reckless."

You settle into your bed with your eyemask and chill genre playlist on bluetooth to serenade you to sleep. You're out before you know it but wake up to your ringing cell that's charging at your head.

"Hello?" It's 5:49 AM. Who the fuck. "Fontaine?" You listen, your heart dropping. He sounds pissed beyond belief. You've never heard him like this, so animatedly aggrieved. He's usually so nonchalant. "Slow down, what are you saying?" He's in a full meltdown. "I'm coming," you promise, getting up immediately.

"Shit," you pace, "Shit shit shit. Not now." It was only a matter of time, but still. You weren't ever looking forward to addressing this. You're not ready. Still, you make your way over to the apartment he shares with his mother. The apartment door is unlocked and ajar. "Fontaine?" You look around. There's a shattered glass in the hall like it's been thrown with water or something in it.

His mother's bedroom door is wide open.

You gulp, walking nearer. He's inside, sitting on the floor against the wall staring at the lonely record player that plays the voice of his 'mother' in the center of an empty room... This is the point where he realizes she doesn't exist.

"You know something about this," he accuses suddenly, making you a little defensive. Your hackles come up.

"What are you saying?"

"You walked in here looking guilty without an ounce of confusion..."

"That doesn't mean I'm not just as confused. What's going on?"

"What's going on?" He's quietly seething, staring daggers into you.

You feel like shrinking. You feel like confessing and begging for forgiveness, but you aren't sure how much he really knows...

Until he pulls out the inch-thick instruction manual. It's the nail in the coffin. He tilts his head, like you can but the bullshit because he knows it all. "You feel like talking now?"

"Fontaine..."

He flings the manual across the room, missing you on purpose by a thin margin.

You take a deep breath. "I didn't want you to find out this way. I wanted you to live a normal life like anyone.. with dignity."

"Dignity? What dignity? You telling me I ain't fuckin real? My memories? My mama? My brother? None of that is real," he questions, his mind and soul visibly broken through the window of his eyes. "I don't exist," he wonders, moreover to himself.

It's trippy, you understand, but you could never give him the empathy and understanding he deserves because he's right.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know," you whisper, keeping your distance for his comfort and sanity.

"What am I?"

"You're Fontaine. You'll always be Fontaine. But technically, you're an AI Intimacy Partner specially designed on request... You're not the only AI IP, but you are the only Fontaine because you were made for me."

"For you?" He stares, his thoughts going wild as he puts everything together in his mind.

"You're-- what they call the hood nigga deluxe. The company that created you, set up this apartment for you based on the memories and habits they programmed you with. They said not to let you open that door," you point.

"And the blood?"

You sigh. "Customization." You had them fill him with Type O blood like a giant juice box, and it seemed funny at the time, but you didn't expect him to be so lifelike. You regularly forgot he was AI.

"So what am I, your personal blood bag?" You can hear the disgust and betrayal. It stings.

"This wasn't what I wanted. I wanted you to be happy on your own with or without me. It's why I paid so much money upfront and in insurance when I had you designed from scratch. Every detail of you was meticulous. You were built based on my ideal type and description of perfection." He even pays for himself by 'working' and paying his own rent, supporting himself.

It's no good, you see it though in his face. That's a face of hatred. He will NEVER deal with you after this, and he's mid identity crisis. You don't know WHAT he'll do, and honesty, you're a little scared about it. Not that he could really hurt you, you being immortal, but he could try, and he could do damage to himself.

You leave without a fight when he asks you to, knowing what you need to do. It wasn't included in the handbook for this very reason, but you have the company contact number in your phone contacts and a pre-agreed upon guarantee that they'll come out as soon as possible to fix things if you put in a request via their help line. That's what you do.

They finally come out 3 days later, and by that time, Fontaine is gone. You haven't heard from him, and the apartment is empty.

"Thanks for nothing. He's gone now," you grouch, pissed at their delay. They don't take it personally, of course, they don't give a fuck about your emotions.

"Not quite," they say, setting up a laptop to show you GPS points on a map. "All of our models come with an embedded homing chip that lets us know their location in case of situations such as you described. We retrieve them, wipe recent history with a gentle reset, and bring them back to you. That's what your insurance does."

You sit up, feeling relief but also kinda terrible. "You're telling me he won't remember?"

"Nope. Nothing within the past 6 months."

It's another hit in the gut. "That means he won't remember the good either or anything we did, the talks we had?" It breaks your heart. You hold all those moments special, but it'll be as if they never happened. You'll be starting over practically.

"It's a steep trade, but at least he'll be in your life again."

You wanna slap him for being so casual about it. He doesn't understand how hard it is. You grew to love Fontaine and he was falling for you in a natural and humane way. You don't want that changed, but it's already been changed. "This is hard," you whimper, wanting to cry a little bit, but you can't just leave things as they are. Fontaine is stubborn, and once he hates you, he hates you. You made him that way.

An alert says that he's been located outside of the city, and developers are seizing him.

"What do you want us to do," the rep asks, waiting on you to answer him ad he re-gathers his things to leave your home. You cover your eyes, feeling like a traitor to your own man.

"Do it. Wipe him."

For the next six hours, you wait anxiously waiting for an update. They're supposed to fix him. An update comes that night with a generic ass thank you for your business message attached through email. You visit Fontaine's apartment immediately, knocking on the door.

He opens it slowly, watching you as you stare up at him, praying and hoping...

"Fontaine?"

"What's the problem? Come in the house," he backs up, letting you in to get you our the hall. You look around subtly seeing everything cleaned up and his 'mother's' room door closed. You smell backwoods and weed and his fresh, clean scent. There's a blunt between his fingers.

"I just--I had a bad dream," you lie, pinching the extra fabric of his sleeve. "You were in it."

"You dreamin' bout me now?" There's interest there in his expression, no longer the hatred that was emanating through him like electricity. It's almost unsettling.

You approach him somewhat sideways, still feeling him out. "Fontaine, what's something you've always wanted to do on Halloween that you haven't done?"

He hesitates, confused at the sudden change in direction, but considers your question. "I'm not a Halloween nigga."

"Would you go apple picking with me," you test, looking for any sign of memory, but he looks flabbergasted.

"Apple picking?"

"Yes."

"Do I look like a nigga that go apple-picking?"

You withhold your reaction, stealing his blunt to calm your nerves. It's bittersweet that he doesn't remember. You sit on his couch and call him to sit beside you as you rest your head on his shoulder, then test your hand on his lap, going into the waistband of his striped grey sweatpants.

He gently pauses you.

"Do you want me to stop," you meet his eyes to ask.

"Nah... I don't mind. I just wanted to see what you'd do."

"Stop of course." You proceed with his consent, squeezing and rubbing his dick to encourage the blood flow. It hardens bit by bit, growing as you touch it. He leans back enjoying it while you smoke simultaneously.

"Come with me back to my place so we can do it without your mama hearing us," you whisper.

"You know what time it is?" He takes the blunt back for a quick pull.

"I don't care." You take the blunt back again from his fixed fingers to puff, leaning in close to blow gently up his nostrils. His head remains invitingly still as your lips linger inches from his, ghosting close enough for him to feel you breathing.

"How you breathe when you vampire," he whispers, legit curiosity meeting lust. You bite his bottom lip.

"Reflex. It's just something I'm used to doing. Kind of like sucking dick. I kinda just do it."

"Show me," his eyes command, but you leave him dry and hanging, standing up, ready to go.

"Come over, and I will."

"So tell me about this nightmare," Fontaine says as he parts your legs by the knees and lifts them by the ankles and calves, lowering his head to your inner thigh to kiss around your panties.

"It was enough to scare me," you sigh. "I dreamed you'd left. No text, no goodbye, just abandoned me."

"Why would I do that?"

"You'd better not," you respond, feeling the familiar motions of him going down on you. He hasn't forgotten that, thankfully. There's a ton he hasn't forgotten, and you have to look on the bright side of that. You just have to train him again, a tiny bit.

"I'm not going anywhere," he confirms.

"Then fuck me like you're not ever leaving me. Don't be fragile."

It's all you needed to say for him to up the ante. He didn't forget how to fuck. You dig your fingers into his back as he pounds into you missionary-style with your legs around his waist. It's good enough for a night where your mind isn't where it could be.. which is present.

Fontaine lays in your bed as you think, his bicep cupping your head comfortably as the big spoon.

"You've been off since you showed up at my door tonight. What's really going on," he asks suddenly.

You swallow your emotions and go for asking the question you've been building since you knocked on his door. Him flipping out was rough. You don't want that again. You need him far away from that forbidden room. It's the only way you'll have peace and go back to normal.

"I've been wanting to ask you something really big." You look up to eyeball Fontaine. He looks at ease, half sleep, but still alert. "It's a pretty big thing."

"So ask," he smirks.

It's not that simple. Nothing is that simple.

You decide to rip the bandaid off and just say it. "I want you to move in with me."

He coughs suddenly, lifting to sit up, his brow raised. "I don't know."

"I do... Ain't you cramped over there?

He nods.

" Exactly. You'd have way more space here to live and move."

"Eh.... I'll run it by my mama."

"Mama? Fontaine... Do you need her permission? Just move in with me! We'll split the rent."

He smirks, giving you the low side-eye. "I'll think about it."

"Think about it," you reiterate because if he's with you, that means he can't open that damned fantasy running bedroom door.

"I'll think about it," he says again, stern like he's done with the topic.

You sigh, knowing you have to let it go and remain ready for the worst. That emotional explosion wasn't how you saw the relationship turning. You're still hurt for him and harboring those feelings, though he doesn't remember a thing.

Or does he...

"I won't forgive you," he says suddenly, his turned turned away in the shadow of the room. "But I understand now what I am and what I'm here for."

"Fontaine," you bolt upright in bed, alone and in daylight. It's the middle of the afternoon on Sunday. You've been sleeping hard as fuck and having thee worst nightmare that Fontaine actually found out the truth you've been hiding from him all this time. Thankfully, it was only a nightmare, but it was realistic enough to truly shake you into preventative measures. You have to get him outta that apartment and with you in yours where you can protect him from what he doesn't know.

You call him immediately and he answers.

"Yeah, what's going on?"

"Fontaine, come see me when you free. I wanna ask you something, but I wanna ask you in person."

"Ard.. I'll be there sometime around 5-5:30."

"Cool," you hang up, leaving your bed for some air. That nightmare fucked you up.

The End.

@dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens-blog @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @thadelightfulone @sultanabby @mysticalblackhottie @baekhyunbabybunni @fd-writes @richonne4life @goldieccentric @thehomierobbstark @capswife @blackpinup22 @harleycativy @lishabaybeee-blog @playgurlxoxo @beaut1fulone-blog @blackerthings @syndrlla97 @ladymac82 @browngirldominion @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @uzumaki-rebellion

#original #they cloned tyrone fanfiction #fontaine #fontaine they cloned tyrone #they cloned tyrone fic #black fanfiction #black fanfic writer

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octuscle · 3 months

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Hi Chronivac or Suitcase people! I'm looking for a change in my life like working with my body rather than with my brain, living in the north rather than in the south, being poor but happy rather than wealthy and unhappy, being a player rather than the relationship-guy and so on. I hope for your help

Dude, seriously, if you're going to do it, do it! Why only half the cake? Why not work with your awesome body, live on the beach in the south, be rich and happy and take everything that comes along? Somehow that sounds much better… At least for me… I have another suitcase for you, labeled MVD. Filled with everything you need for a basic jet-set influencer beach vacation. Beachwear from Vilebrequin, sportswear from Balenciaga, a little something for the evening from Prada and co. And a hotel voucher for The Grand Hotel in Punta del Este. Just for the weekend. After that, it's off to Buenos Aires for you and then you'll have to see…

Shit, the brand new iPhone alone, which you're holding in your freshly manicured hands, costs more than you've paid in rent for your miserable apartment in six months. You don't even want to know what the entire contents of this suitcase cost. But how do you get to this Punta del Este now? And where is it anyway? You look at your new cell phone. Your tickets are in the wallet. First to Madrid, and then on to Montevideo. Premium Economy. Sounds great, you've never had that before. Should you put something on straight from your suitcase? Better not. You should take it easy on your clothes. But maybe one of those T-shirts from Balenciaga. A quick look in the mirror… Okay, better not, maybe a little tight around the hips. You're not changing.

When you check in your suitcase, the ground staff lady flirts with you. She asks why you've joined the queue with all the tourists. As an Emerald customer with oneworld, you should have been allowed to use the first class check-in. She asks if she can upgrade you to Business Class as compensation. You don't say no.

You can get used to the lounge. It's better than waiting outside in the aisles. The toilets are also better. And when you look in the mirror, you think that they must be playing tricks with the light. You look younger and more relaxed. And were you wearing that immaculate white shirt just now? Somehow the champagne seems to be going to your head. You almost missed the boarding call.

The lounge was cool, but flying in Business Class is really awesome! There aren't many passengers up here. But somehow you get the impression that everyone is just looking after you. Like a real VIP. You take a selfie of yourself and the purser. Later for Instagram. The Iberia logo well placed. You have to show your appreciation somehow. In Madrid, you send the two pictures out. The second one with the pilot. He says it was an honor to fly you. They're getting a bit carried away… They're making fun of you!

When you go through passport control at the terminal change, you first think you've put the wrong passport in your pocket. Cool picture! But it doesn't look like you. You check it out as best you can in the reflection of a window pane. Yes, the angular features, the piercing blue eyes… It all fits.

It's getting better and better. Instead of your connecting flight being called for boarding, a member of ground staff comes by in the lounge, takes your bag and accompanies you to the gate. You're already in the mood for a glass of champagne. But alcohol is only compatible with your six-pack to a limited extent. Besides, it's already late and you should get some sleep. You have more than enough room. So apply your night cream, put on your sleep pods and put on your sleeping goggles. And when you wake up rested after almost nine hours, you hear the first signs that the breakfast service is about to start. You hear the flight attendants gossiping. One of them says that you looked like Cupid while you were sleeping and that you could shoot him with your arrows. They obviously have no idea that you speak Spanish. You let them believe that you don't understand them.

Actually, you would have liked to have taken a closer look at Montevideo. But you don't have time for that. The season in Punta del Este is as good as over, so if you want to boost your mid-season business, you need a few pictures of the sunset. And you get paid quite well for boosting the mid-season business a little.

It's actually a bit too cold at the end of March for topless shots. But your nipples look even better this way. "End of a hot day, beginning of a hot night at the most beautiful end of the world" you write under the picture. 3K likes in half an hour. You are worth your money!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #age reduction #ai image

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lurkingshan · 4 months

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Cherry Magic Episode 10

They tried it again this week with adding another restriction on this show, but we shall persevere! The rest of the episodes are apparently going to be behind a paywall on Viu on air date, and then become free access the following day. The upside to paying the small premium membership fee is we can finally see Tay Tawan in 1080p as god intended (and pro tip: there do not seem to be any screen limits, buy one account and split it amongst friends).

With all that figured out, we got to another excellent episode of this show! Big, big relationship growth for Achi and Karan this week, as they learned that hiding their real feelings and desires from each other doesn't help them (and gave us an A+ forehead kiss parallel). I loved the nuance of it all, too—Karan was lying about sitting outside Achi's house every night and trying to hide how sad he was about Achi missing Loy Krathong, but he also genuinely had no anger toward Achi about it and was just trying to make things easier for him. And Achi was telling Karan he wanted the practice time apart (honestly, horrible idea boys, your time together is precious) while secretly hoping Karan would come see him anyway. In relationships, you can't claim to want one thing while secretly hoping for another and expect that to pan out for you.

And I love that Achi did realize that, and that he does trust Karan even despite these little white lies, and that this time, he had to step up and be the one to make the grand gesture to make sure Karan knows he loves him and will miss him. Roping in the office gang to help pull off the surprise was a fun turn of events, and I love that his confidence has grown enough that he can ask for that help without being embarrassed. They're going to be fine through this separation, and when they are back together I look forward to the show addressing the elephant in the room, because when they were walking together on their date I couldn't help but notice that they would have been holding hands were it not for the barrier Achi's powers present. They need to be able to have intimacy while maintaining privacy and mental space, and we know what needs to happen to get there!

I also loved the Jinta/Min story this episode, and that we got to see Jinta do a much less dignified version of Karan's pining. The plot about fans shipping Min with his dance partner was new and felt like exactly the kind of thing that would come up in his career, and that Jinta would flail over. I like that Min saw exactly what was going on and called him on it. The irony of Jinta being the one who can read minds but Min being the one who actually understands everything happening between them is delicious. And Jinta showed up for him in a big way after his loss by not only affirming how he sees Min, but showing Min that he still has fans who feel the same way. Excellent boyfriend behavior from our friend Jinta.

As for Rock and Pai, it looks like we'll be getting our final answer there next week, but given that Pai continues to be uninterested in romance and focused on her work and her hobbies, I don’t think it will go the way Rock hopes. He is barking up the wrong tree (his instincts for romance are clearly NOT strong, given he had no idea Achi and Karan were a couple), and I am hopeful that Pai will tell him so next week.

#cherry magic th #cherry magic thailand #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

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undead-merman · 8 months

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Day Thirteen: Asylum Fuckfest

Harper and GN-Pc

Contains: Oviposition, Hypnosis, sex pollen, breeding mentions

It was a mating season. You could hear the sounds of flesh slapping all over, lewd sucking and slurping from every room. A hazy scent in the air, more than just the thick aroma of sex. Something sweet, overly so, like artificial strawberries caked in sugar and topped with gooey bubbling caramel and sprinkles. It was head spinning. You found yourself just a wee bit dizzy from the stench.

Everyone was so lost in some kind of hole or paralyzed by cock that they didn’t pay attention to you. Could they even see you? You gripped your gown as tight as you could and tried to find some kind of guard, a supervisor, anyone that held some kind of power. Anyone that could tell you what was going on, or even give you some kind of direction. You felt like you were supposed to be somewhere.

Whatever was in the air was starting to affect you... arouse you, slightly at first, but you were dripping with sweat and need once you got past the cafeteria. Down the hall to Harper’s office you went, a skip and spring in your step. Strolling like Alice in Wonderland. Empty. The stark white hallway was desolate. Not even a fly buzzed around. Your nerves flared up like an excited school girl handing out their valentines as your fist met the wood of the door.

“Come in!” Cheerful came the good doctor’s voice.

You turn the handle and there he stood, looking out into the facility from his grand window, back turned to you. ‘Don’t go in’ something buried in your ape brain sent alarm bells off. You hesitated, your foot stopping midway.

“Worry not. Please come in. I insist.” His tone shifted at that last part. Harsher.

Your Pavlovian response kicked in. You followed without another hint of protest, a gleeful expression stabled on your face. He didn’t move when you approached, simply watching at the orgy down below. The chorus of moans and erotic noises was loud enough to reach up to where you stood.

“Isn’t it wonderful? Seeing all those people down there enjoying each other’s company is a real treat.” His arms were tight against his back as he gazed over the room… Lovingly. Like a shepherd watching his folk be merry in the fields. He careened his neck over towards you, making you flinch and gag when a sudden wafting of perfume much stronger than before hit you.

“But not to worry. Patients such as yourself are able to live amongst them just as easily with some guidance. I am here to help with your journey.” he faced you, and his eyes seemed to shine an unnatural fuchsia pink. Focused only on you. “So go ahead and disrobe, then we can get started on the treatment.”

Why would you say no? You happily obeyed baring your naked form before him as it was always meant to be. You were leaking, excited to be taken on his healing journey. He went from stiff to roguish grace as he pulled your shoulders and sat you down in his lap, smiling when he felt your weight.

“Now, Care so share some affection?” You let your lips fall to his. He tasted sweeter than he smelled. You could drink his saliva like wine. You grind down into his trouser. Your hands hurriedly unbutton him and dig into his underwear, but something grabs you back. Wet, burning warm, and wrapping around each fingertip to give it a kiss. Finally, pulling it out showed a slimy tendril as large as your hand and dripping with a liquid the same color as it and his eyes.

“Go ahead, sit on it.”

You moved your legs, hanging them over his shoulders to give him the perfect view of yourself. With great practice, you lower yourself back down. You can feel his appendage slither its way into your hole. You wiggled your hips down, so it could feel it squirm deeper inside. So, so good. You cried out for him to go even deeper inside.

Harper simply enjoyed the feeling of your premium hole. They enjoyed just how warm you were, ever since the first month you’d arrived they waited for you to become a prime host. Sure, there were so many in the overly sterile breeding grounds, but you were amongst the best. You held so many eggs and carried them so well. Each one perfectly healthy. Thought it was a shame that Harper took them away.

You never knew, though. No one did. Its perfume distorted a person’s sense of reality and made everyone perfect little brood mothers. Harper was perfectly willing to be their host. Being able to fuck his favorite patients was one of a few dozen perks.

Your toes curled, and you whimpered out a moan as you felt thick jelly fill your hole, more than just cum. You were skilled at milking it out of him. Taking everything that Harper had to offer. You truly were a priceless specimen. He could feel himself ready to fertilize you. He picked up the pace, thoroughly enjoying your fluttering hole and adorable whining voice. He pulls your hips down and fills you up with their seed. A euphoria spreads from both his ears and his cock.

You took every little drop, and it seemed like your hole was twitching fortw: more. Truly, we're a brood mother above the rest. Not only his favorite, but theirs as well.

#dol #dol harper #harper the doctor #tw: breeding talk #tw: hypnosis #tw: oviposition #tw: sex pollen

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memestockpile · 5 months

Text

the holdovers from the 2023 film. feel free to change as needed.

these are for you.

they're your mother's panties. tell her thanks for the good times!

you stole my fucking cigarettes.

i resent that baseless accusation.

cut the shit.

i don't indulge in pornography. i get enough of the real thing.

this shit's premium weed, all right?

i can't believe you got out of it.

we don't talk about those things.

there's a nice little bonus in it for you.

that boy is too dumb to pour piss out of a boot.

at least pretend to be a human being.

are you fucking kidding me?

tone it down. jesus can hear you.

you know how lonely i've been.

fresh air will do you good.

adversity builds character.

this is the most bullshit ever.

don't be such a pussy.

civil disobedience, man.

your mind's a cesspool and a shallow one at that.

rich and dumb. popular combination around here.

you homesick?

that's why you grind everybody. deep down, you know you're an asshole.

life is like a henhouse ladder: shitty and short.

you don't know the newlywed game? what planet have you been living on?

everybody should be with their people on christmas.

sharp kid. insightful.

that's what you get for ratting me out!

i had a nightmare.

friends are overrated.

this is not exactly a face forged for romance.

i like being alone. i've always found myself drawn to the aesthetic.

if you could go anywhere on earth, where would you go?

you can't even dream a whole dream, can you?

it is absolutely my business. i'm looking after you.

i don't know what you're playing at, but you are courting disaster!

without exercise, the body devours itself.

you said you washed your hands of me.

i meant it metaphorically.

you're gonna get me fired.

the good news is nothing's broken, but you did dislocate your shoulder pretty badly.

this all remains entre nous.

do not try to leverage me.

they've got miller high life. the champagne of beers.

listen, you hormonal vulgarian, that woman deserves your respect, not your erotic speculation.

thanks for fucking up my mojo.

hey, sport, my eyes are up here.

you smell. like fish.

you're out of your mind.

okay, maybe it's fine for you to sit around here and read books all day, but i'm losing my goddamn mind.

watch your mouth, young man.

if you're too chickenshit to go to this party, then just say that.

every child is an artist. the problem is remaining an artist when we grow up.

who put you in charge of the music?

i'm not gonna do this if you're not gonna take it seriously.

the world doesn't make sense anymore.

you're a very sweet person.

do you think i want to be babysitting you?

what the fuck is wrong with you?

it's like the bible, the quran, and the bhagavad gita all rolled up into one.

i'll go pack.

you've never had sex, have you?

the details would curl your toes.

there's nothing new in human experience. each generation thinks it invented debauchery or suffering or rebellion.

history is not simply the study of the past, it is an explanation of the present.

what i say during a private conversation is none of your goddamn business.

just trying to keep you on your toes.

get up, kid. it's daylight.

is that rye toast? how'd you know i like rye toast?

you're a pretty good teacher, kid.

you conniving little shit.

...hello, sweetheart!

i don't have any friends. real friends.

i lie. i steal. i piss people off.

no one is his own father.

your history does not dictate your destiny.

i find the world a bitter and complicated place, and it seems to feel the same way about me. i think you and i have this in common.

you're just a kid. you're just beginning. and you're smart. you've got time to turn things around.

let's get you a slice of cake or some other age appropriate dessert.

christ on a crutch.

where do you stand on indoor fireworks?

that's too much paprika.

you did this to yourself, [name], not me.

you are and always have been penis cancer in human form.

i missed you at breakfast.

so, did you decide where you're going to?

i'm not like you. i like having a job.

we could grab a burger and a beer.

keep your head up, all right?

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nightghoul381 · 6 months

Text

Dead or Love ~ Ellis Twilight

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Bitter End | Premium End | Epilogue

When we step into the church, we found--.

Ellis: “Ah…”

Orphanage staff: “Everyone, please take turns to receive a present from Santa Claus.”

The Kids: “Yes!”

Santa Claus: “A gift for a good child. Here you are.”

A person who appeared to be one of the orphanage staff wearing red clothes was handing out presents to the children.

Ellis: “You’ve met the real Santa Claus.”

Kate: “…fufu, right.”

Sitting on a bench with Kate, I watched the scene.

(Kate…before, you held back everything you wanted to say.)

In truth, you must be wondering why I kept quiet about the bomb.

But at that moment, I swallowed my words.

I’m sure Kate realized I was keeping quiet to make her happy.

When I met Kate, I learned that there was such a thing as kindness with wanting nothing in return.

I want to know, I want to understand, I want to see.

Put a lid on those desires, and prioritize the other person’s heart.

Even if I know this in my head, I don’t think I can do it easily.

(That’s why…)

(Maybe I should be especially kind to Kate.)

Kate: “Ellis, you said you wanted to be my Santa Claus, but…”

Kate: “For me, you’re like Santa Claus every day.”

Ellis: “That’s…Why?”

Kate: “You make me so happy, but you don’t ask for anything in return, do you?”

(Don’t ask for anything in return, huh?)

As Kate says, if I’m really Santa Claus, I wouldn’t ask for anything in return.

Just give and give for the other person’s happiness…and that’s it.

However, the desire that I have buried deep inside my heart is making loud accusations.

--Are you really not looking for anything in return?

--With Kate, “what do you want” really?

(Kate, I’m…not really Santa Claus.)

(I’m)

(I just want to be Santa Claus.)

(If I can’t, my love will…)

“…in the end, your own desires are the most important thing.”

(It will turn into something horrible.)

Before I could answer anything, I heard Kate’s soft voice from beside me.

Kate: “I think that sort of kindness and love is very wonderful and precious.”

Kate: “I’ve been spoiled a lot because of that, and…”

It’s a little funny, Kate’s the one who’s kind.

Ellis: “I wish you were more selfish.”

Kate: “See, spoiled again.”

Ellis: “Fufu…”

After a moment, Kate murmured like a drop of rain falling from the sky.

Kate: “That’s why…”

Kate: “I still wish I could see you differently.”

Ellis: “So, not me?”

Kate: “Yes… and no, Ellis, please.”

(That’s not me.)

(Ah,…I see.)

I realized what Kate was trying to tell me.

I remember words Kate had said to me.

“Let’s be happy together.”

“I want you to be happy too, Ellis.”

Kate is aware that I’m keeping a lid on ‘something’.

And she might ask me to open it and show it to her if possible.

(But, I’m sorry. Kate.)

(That doesn’t seem possible.)

(My love, my desire, it’s not in a friendly form for you.)

So, I had to draw the line.

Ellis: “You…”

Ellis: “Would you be happier if I were selfish?”

It’s my usual way of hiding my true feelings, saying it’s ‘for you’.

The hurt in Kate’s eyes is surely not just my imagination.

However, the kind Kate,

Kate: “Yes…”

She smiled and nodded.

It’s like she’s taking her time and waiting for the day when I’ll reveal everything.

Jude: “Why aren’t you dead yet.”

Kate: “Jude!”

Ellis: “Oh, Jude.”

Kate: “So, did you find out how to defuse the bomb?

Jude: “You’re so loud. If it doesn’t explode on its own, your voice will set it off.”

Jude looks annoyed and flutters a piece of paper.

(He figured out how to defuse the bomb, as expected of Jude.)

The bomb that was attached to my leg was defused.

As I stepped outside the church, the cold air caressed my cheeks—

Kate / Ellis : “Ah…”

(…It’s snowing.)

Ellis: “It’s like an overdone scenario that it’s snowing at a time like this.”

Kate: “…isn’t it?”

Ellis: “Um, where are you going Jude?”

Jude: “You know it’s work. I can’t believe how much time I wasted just wiping your ass.”

Ellis: “Yeah, sorry.”

Ellis: “Also, thank you for helping me, Jude.”

Jude: “Ha. I forgot how thick you are. I don’t need your gratitude.”

Jude: “You’d better keep your promise instead of paying for it.”

Kate: “Promise…?”

Ellis: “I made a deal. In exchange for Jude helping me, I’d pay him back with my body.”

Kate: “B-body!?”

I don’t know what Kate is imagining, but it’s kind of cute that she’s flustered.

Ellis: “Yeah, I’ve lost my vacation time for a while.”

Kate: “Oh, that… you mean labor…”

Jude: “Give me your organs, what a pitiful thing to think.”

(Ah, I see, she thought Jude was asking me to donate my organs.”

(As always, Kate is adorable.)

Ellis: “It’s more profitable to have healthy people working.”

Jude: “If you understand, then hurry up and get to work.”

Kate sneaks a glare at Jude, so I sneak a laugh too

I returned to the castle and immediately sorted out the estimates and invoices that Jude had handed over.

(Was it a very special, very happy Christmas for you, Kate?)

(The way it turned out… maybe it wasn’t enough.)

I feel a little depressed.

(I want to work harder next year and give Kate the best Christmas ever.)

Thinking about that, I suddenly tilted my head.

(…that’s?)

As if natural, I was thinking about next year with Kate.

Kate: “Ellis, there you are.”

(Ah…)

Ellis: “Kate.”

I was a little surprised because I was just thinking about Kate.

Kate: “You were working, right? Are you okay now?”

Ellis: “Yeah, don’t worry about it…What’s wrong?”

Kate: “Ellis, I know you said I wasn’t allowed to give you anything in return, but I really wanted to do something.”

(You didn’t even have to mention me. That’s very typical of the disciplined Kate.)

Kate: “Could you take this, please?”

When I opened the box that Kate gave to me, there was…

Ellis: “Shoes…?”

Kate: “Yes, I was thinking…”

Kate: “I remembered a saying that ‘When you wear new shoes, they’ll take you wonderful places.’”

(…I’m so happy.)

The gift is so full of Kate’s kindness and consideration, and it makes my heart flutter.

(Kate, I want to be your Santa Claus always.)

(I just want to be kind, and make you happy.)

(…But.)

The desires that I buried deep inside my heart and kept a lid on were writhing.

(Kate.)

(You, only you, make me… just a little crazy.)

Ellis: “…I don’t want Christmas to end just yet.”

Kate: “Eh?”

I pull Kate’s arm closer and looked into her eyes.

Ellis: “Kate, will you be my Santa Claus this time?”

Ellis: “You can listen to my selfishness.”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Bitter End | Premium End | Epilogue

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikemen villains translation #ikevil translation #ellis twilight #ikevil ellis #ikevil ellis twilight #ikemen villains ellis #ikemen villains ellis twilight

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