#latest display technology

[greatlobbyis123]

Latest & New Smartphones List 2024 | Great Lobbyist

Discover the hottest new smartphones of 2024 at Great Lobbyist. Stay ahead of the tech curve with our curated list of the latest smartphone releases. From cutting-edge features to sleek designs, find your perfect device and upgrade your mobile experience today. Explore our comprehensive collection now.for more details visit us: https://greatlobbyist.com/

[legendaryearthquakestranger]

Laptop Generations A Comprehensive Guide

Laptop Generations A Comprehensive Guide have come a long way since their inception, transforming from bulky, slow machines into sleek, powerful devices that can rival desktops in performance. With each new generation, laptops bring enhanced features, greater processing power, improved battery life, and innovative designs that cater to the evolving needs of users. This article delves into the…

[rashid92786]

Redmi और Infinix के पसीने छुड़ाने आया Vivo का तगड़ा फ़ोन हुआ ग्लोबल लॉन्च, जानें कीमत

वीवो का नया धमाकेदार स्मार्टफोन, Vivo Y27s, ग्लोबल बाजार में लॉन्च होकर रेडमी और इनफिनिक्स की चुनौतियों को तेज़ी से बढ़ा रहा है। आकर्षक फीचर्स और जबरदस्त परफॉरमेंस के साथ, इस फोन की कीमत और स्पेसिफिकेशंस ने यूजर्स का ध्यान खींचा है। वीवो Y27s के लॉन्च की पूरी जानकारी और कीमत के लिए यहाँ पढ़ें। उल्लेखनीय बिंदु: यह तेज़ी से चार्जिंग की सुविधा के लिए 44वॉट की फास्ट चार्जिंग क्षमता से लैस है। वीवो…

[teastyun]

༻ pound town

arcane sevika x female reader (nsfw)

a/n: i'm going to war (exam phase is about to start), therefore i must make haste (my hiatus starts again). also, i got a new job so i'm not sure when my hiatus will end :(

pt. 1 ; masterlist

grabbing the broom from the back of your mechanics shop, you start you usual closing routine as the streets of Zaun more active as the day ends. growing up in Zaun, you appreciate the livelihood of the people, but grew wary of the criminality rising abruptly at the end of each day. enforcers started to patrol the quiet streets of Zaun and hang up missing posters of Jinx, who you've been visited by for several occasions over the last few months for tech equipment she required. you grew fond of the girl and would occasionally even slip a few extra pieces, and she would thank you proudly by telling you about her latest new technological improvements.

one time, she told you about a prosthesis as her newest invention. Sevika immediately came to your mind and the way she held your cheek the last and first time you saw her. or the way her bionic arm held your hips so strongly as you rode her strap. shit, you really are down bad for this woman who doesn't even know your name.

as several months gone by since then, you managed to gather your savings and invest it into your shop for new techs and products to sell. you were finally able to call your shop your full time job and scrap your shifts at the brothel completely. Sevika didn't only save your shop, but she saved you from drowning in exhaustion as the only thing you ever did was work day and night.

you hoped to see her again, but your hope was slowly scarped as each month passed by.

after sweeping the last corner of your shop, you only had to rearrange your products before you could finally leave to go home. as you tidied the screws collection, the door to your shop opened audibly by your crystals dangling from the person entering.

"we're closed-" you start, but stop as you see the person at the entrance.

there she was, standing in her usual cloak and a hood that hid her face, but you recognised her nonetheless. she took her hood off with a smile as she looked at you. "good to see you again."

suddenly, you felt naked again. although she knew your identity (prolly even the whole time), the mask would hide your facial expressions and reactions. now, you are standing there with a shocked impression written on your face, unsure of how to react to the person that is the reason for your shop to still be alive.

"i see you created something out of this shop since the last time I've seen you," she speaks with a soft smile on her lips as she takes a look around in your shop. "thank you. you were actually a huge help last time we've seen each other," you respond, your hands linked together behind your back as you turn to look around your shop.

honestly, your shop is quite shady from outside with its half-broken broken neon sign spelling the name mechs n' treasures. but once you enter, you quickly realise that it's a one man's business by it's intricate appearance. it has so much personality now that you have as much time as you'd like to spent in it, decorating it with your favourite things you've collected over the years that weren't too precious to be displayed in your small flat above your shop. a few colourful crystals dangle around your entrance and the door to your flat, reflecting the neon lights from the streets of Zaun onto the mechanic pieces you sell. tidiness is your top priority, since it's hard to keep such an old shop neat and clean. you love your old and shady, but precious personal shop and wouldn't wish it to be any different. business seemed to be booming recently, too. you had no idea why, but Zaun is a quick and fast learning city with its advantages and disadvantages, resulting in people visiting your shop to buy the pieces they require for their newest project.

now, Sevika is standing in the centre of your shop, taking one of the mechanical pieces into her hands and looking at it in detail.

"can i help you with something?" you ask, looking at her with curiosity. after she puts the mechanic piece back into its tray, she says "I was hoping you could me out with this."

she reveals her bionic arm, where you see the its shimmer capsules completely shattered. surprised, you walk towards her and take her bionic arm into her hand to have a closer look. you inhale her smoky scent and suddenly were confronted with a vivid memory of the first night you guys met at the brothel, as you sat in her lap writhing under her touch. focus. you twisted a few pieces to inspect the reachability of the broken capsules. "I assume you won't be able to take it off?" you ask her, your eyes still fixed on an odd piece you've found.

she shakes her head, "it would be a hazard trying to put it on afterwards. do you think you'll still manage to repair, though?"

after twisting the last few pieces for inspection, you leave her arm. "shouldn't be no issue," you take a look at your wristwatch and notice how late it already is. a few extra minutes won't hurt, you decide.

you nod towards the counter, "take a seat, i'll be right with you."

entering the back of your shop and take a big breath. fuck, this intimidating woman still effects you after several months. at this point, you were sure you even forgot about her.

you grab your toolbox and head to Sevika, who is waiting for you behind your counter on a chair. her cloak is thrown over your register's desk, revealing a similar outfit you saw at the brothel. only now you realise how muscular this woman actually is. her arm is almost fully exposed by her sleeveless top and a choker around her neck makes you shake off your dirty thoughts.

you place the toolbox on the counter before you take a seat next to it. Sevika watches every move of yours, making you even more nervous than you already are.

grabbing your first tool, you lay her arm in you lap and start unscrewing the plates that cover the isolation of the shimmer capsules. her arm felt heavy, but oddly warm in your lap for the fact that it's broken. you remember how the same arm pinned you down on her strap a few months ago.

your brain is almost about to malfunction if Sevika wouldn't have interrupted your thoughts, "so, how is your shop going?" she asks as she leans the side of her upper body on the counter. when you look down at her, she's only mere centimetres away from your face. her grey eyes digging into yours. your pussy clenches as your breathing stops at the sight of her. you quickly look away and focus on her arm again. "it's going well," you start and grab for another tool to remove the shattered pipes. "sometimes it's exhausting to handle a shop alone, but you get used to it, you know."

her eyes follow your movements on her arm while she hums as an indication for you to continue. "once, a dude i recognised from the brothel came to pick up a few things and i couldn't help but wonder what his day job is. he was a sex worker as well, so he probably even recognised me," you tell her. it's unusual for you to share thoughts and memories of your old job. you weren't ashamed of it, but you much happier spending your time in your own shop and not thinking back to your old routine.

she shifts in her seat to look up at you, "i'm glad you were able to escape that shit hole, beautiful," she says quietly, careful of the words she chooses, "do you still remember that night?"

your movements halt immediately at her questions and you felt her eyes laying heavily on you, watching every single movement. the way you took a deep breath, trying not to appear nervous around her. the mere thought of that night made you feel butterflies in your stomach and wetness in your core.

"i do," you confess. without meeting her eyes, you continue your maintenance on her bionic arm in your lap, trying to suppress the urge of jumping into her lap and kissing her senseless. "do you?" you ask in almost a whisper, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer.

when she didn't, your eyes travelled to hers in question. she seemed to be in deep thoughts as well before she asked "how couldn't i?"

her eyes finally meet yours and you recognise such sincerity and trust in them, you couldn't help the soft smile that sneaks onto your lips.

"you were the only thing on my mind in this cruel world," she continues, making you feel several things at once. "and i don't even know your name."

you chuckled and referred your eyes back to your almost finished work, concentrating on exchanging the pipes.

"so, you're not even going to tell me?" she asks amused.

"what, my name?" you act oblivious, knowing exactly what she wanted. now it was her turn to chuckle at your teasing. "you can be a pain in the ass, you know that?"

you shake your head in disbelief with a smile on your lips as you screw on the last iron plate on her arm.

"move it," you command and she obliges. she moves her joints, making the shimmer that was left in her tank fuel her new pipe, while moving it a few more times in several directions. you've never seen machinery working with shimmer so closely. you wonder how the metal felt like against your skin.

ripping you out of your trance, she stands up. right in front you, almost between your legs, which you desperately wanted to close at the sight as you felt your pussy clench.

"thank you," she looks at you, her eyes wandering from your neck down to the rest of your body. it's like she can't help herself, checking you out as you sit on her cloak next to your work instruments.

"you even look beautiful in your casual attire," she whispers as her eyes meet yours again.

"so," you wrap your index finger through her choker, "how about taking it off and see what's hidden underneath?" you cock your head before you pull her closer. your legs are opened by her thighs between them as she looks down at you, clearly surprised by your boldness. "i don't fuck nameless girls," she says in an equal tone to her low chuckle.

you take a quick look at her lips, wondering what they would feel like on yours. "didn't seem so last time we've seen each other."

your finger is still wrapped around her chocker as you grin. she didn't answer. she knows you're messing with her.

she places her arms on each of your sides, the sounds of her bionic arm moving leaving a shudder throughout your body. she's dangerously close.

"if i remember correctly, last time you've fucked yourself, princess."

shocked by her comment, your grin fades as you suddenly remember how you rode her in that brothel, eagerly chasing your orgasm as she guided you through it.

you let go of her choker and rest your hand at the back of her neck instead, caressing the soft strands of brunette hair as you try to maintain yourself.

"y/n," you whisper. Sevika's eyes widen at first, but a slight grin sets on her lips at the sound of your name.

"beautiful name, princess," she whispers back and you feel her breath on your lips with each sound she speaks.

you close your eyes as you feel her full lips grazing yours. "y/n," she whispers repeatedly. her lips finally touch yours, first cautiously but confident after a few seconds of lingering. you copy her motions and gasp when her tongue grazes your lower lip.

pressing her more firmly against yourself, you part your lips for her tongue to enter. she faintly tastes like cigarettes, but more of a harsh liquor you can't really pinpoint. your arms cling desperately around her neck, feeling her torso pressed around yours in your heated kiss. you lock her against your core with your legs around her hips, moaning as she leaves your lips to leave kisses on your neck. "you have no idea how often i thought of kissing you," she whispers before she trails down kisses to your exposed shoulder and collarbone, licking the line of it and pressing soft bites against your sweet spots.

instead of responding, you pull her up again and lock your lips together. you press your lower body against her in search of the friction you desperately seek, but with no success. her lips form into a smirk against your lips as she realises what you're seeking.

frustrated, you separate yourself from her and motion for her to step aside, so you could jump of the counter. "i have a bed upstairs," you tell her. Sevika stands there confused, but god does she look hot. her lips are glazed from your spit and her hair looks slightly tousled from your hand that clung to it.

she doesn't let you move, though. instead, her hands are pressed firmly on your side as she still stand between your legs. "i thought that might be more comfortable..." you say, unsure of the current situation. she shifts in her stance to let you stand up.

"fuck, yes. i mean, yes, let's go upstairs," she chuckles after stumbling over her own words and her bionic arm moves to gesture you to lead the way. you laugh at her sudden awkwardness but go ahead to lock up your shop.

walking up the stairs, you fumble for your home's keys. Sevika followed you closely behind, touching your waist and kissing your neck as you try to unlock the door, a sigh escapes your lips as you try to unlock your door.

as the door closes behind you, she pins you against it. her hand holds your wrist against the door as she kisses you feverishly. her bionic arm slips beneath your ass to lift you up, so you could wrap your legs around her hips. you press your breasts against her, trying to seek for any further touches. "the bed, Sev," you say between kisses, too occupied to actually resist her touch.

she ignores your words and losses her grip on your wrists instead to wander to the buttons of your shirt, never breaking the kiss. "patience, beautiful," she whispers as her lips leave yours to press a kiss on your cheek. "we have all night, right?"

your arms find their way back around her neck, playing with her loose hair. "please," you respond, your eyes making contact with hers. you peck her lips before you say, "i want to touch you, too."

her head falls onto your shoulder as she groans, "you make me loose my composure so easily," before looking back into your eyes with need and desperation "do you realise that?"

you grin at her confession and kiss her hot and wet, moaning into the kiss as she continues to unbutton your shirt until your bra is exposed to her hand. she grazes the outlines with her fingertips, making a shudder run through your body as you gasp. you press your chest into her touch and she gladly responds with cupping your breast while biting your lower lip.

her index finger grazes your puffy nipple through your bra and you can't help the moan that escapes your lips.

she pecks you one last time with a smile, before looking around your small flat, seemingly inspecting your small setup where your bedroom and living room are combined to your cozy grove.

her hand moves to your back, stabilising you in her arms before she finally heads to your bed to lay you down on it, watching you as you lay there with your undone shirt and the few strands that escaped your hairstyle completely wordless.

similar to her, you exhale at the sight in front of you. Sevika is still fully clothed, so you pull her down by her collar to kiss her hard, wrapping your legs around her waist to pull her body on top of you. "take this off," she whispers against your lips, her bionic hand gripping your shirt as her hand sneaks behind your neck to tilt your head for her to suck.

she kisses and bites your sweet spot, disrupting your motion of pulling your shirt off and making your eyes roll back in pleasure. you moan her name in frustration before she finally let's go.

"this too," she tells you as she eyes every little detail on your torso. when you take your bra off, her bionic hand cups your breast. the sharp and cold details of her metallic hand exposed on one of your most sensitive parts of your body leave you breathing hard, moaning as her pointy fingers pinch and twist your nipple. "you have no idea how often i thought of touching them since that night," her eyes are not leaving your chest as she confesses.

"you could've touched them that night," you respond, your hand finding the back of her head as you play with her small ponytail. after hearing your words she looks at you, almost with a shocked expression on her face. "there's no way i would have touched you without your consent," she tells you. surprised by this sudden turn, you move up to rest your weight on your elbows, looking at her in disbelief. "but you payed for that night with me," you state, still confused by what she just said.

she's just as surprised as you, cupping your cheek softly as she spoke, "y/n, i would never do anything to you without your consent. do you know that?" she asks you, her eyes never leaving yours as she spoke. you've never experienced any sex partner expressing their respect to you verbally. and fuck, this is probably the moment you realise you have feelings for this woman in front of you. you nod in response, still overwhelmed from your thoughts and feelings. she smiles at you as she says, "good girl."

your soaking pussy almost purred at that nickname. kissing her quick but softly, you grind your clothed hips against hers as you kiss a trail down her neck to her exposed collarbone.

she exhales heavily at your motions before saying, "tell me what you want, beautiful."

"i want you to fuck me," you respond after hesitating, still nibbling at her collarbone as a soft moan escapes her.

"with this," you continue as you grind stronger onto her clothed cunt than before.

her bionic arm holds herself on the bed as her fingers trace your curves. "with my fingers?" she teases as she opens your trousers with her other hand slowly.

your lips move up to her ear, licking and biting her soft skin. "no," you whisper, "with this."

you press the seam of her jeans with your fingers against her clit, making her grip your hips hard from your sudden touch. "fuck," she mutters in response, clearly trying to compose herself before she continues to fully undress you.

"under one condition," she starts as she takes in your naked body with hungry eyes, "i'll have a taste before i fuck you," she unbuttons her shirt, revealing a dark bandeau bra beneath. she's in a hurry, so she won't bother to take off her unbuttoned shirt, but moves on by removing her jeans as well as underwear in one go.

you try to take a peek at her body, but she immediately kneels between your legs to kiss the soft skin of your thighs, dragging her motions slowly to your soaking pussy as her hands hold you firm beneath her touch. feeling her breath on your clit, you whine from sensitivity, gripping the sheets beneath you as she finally tastes you for the first time.

both of you moan from the touch, your hips stutter beneath her strong hands. she eats you out like a starving woman, humming at the sounds you're making. your clit is circled by her tongue as she softly bites and sucks before your legs start shaking from the pleasure that builds up in your lower belly.

she moves her arm from your thigh to press softly against it, realising how close you are. "come on my tongue," she tells you, intensifying her motions as you come hard. the way you moan her name sounds similar to a scream, your thighs pressing against her head as you throw your head back in pleasure.

she gently guides you through it by licking in decreasing motions, careful of your sensitivity. as your calming down, she kisses your clit one last time before she straightens herself to watch you after your first high.

her lips and chin are glistening from her pussy and strands that were originally framing her face now hang loosely. "you did so well, beautiful," she whispers, climbing on top of you to press kisses into your face. "fuck, you really sent me to another dimension," you confess, laughing a litte at the absurdity. she chuckles at your words, grinning as she examines your face.

"are you still down for another round?" she asks carefully, giving you the space you might need, but you nod as you smile at her. she kisses you before she straightens again to manhandle your legs, placing one on her shoulder as she moves her own over your other to align with your pussy, not starting just yet. she caresses the long on her shoulder as she presses kisses along with it.

she looks absolutely breathtaking while doing it. you feel her pussy kissing yours, and fuck, she's driving you crazy. the unbuttoned shirt exposes the abs you eyed earlier through the tightness of her shirt. her v-line is deeply defined, even more when she starts to slowly grind against you. her pointy bionic fingers suddenly press into your thigh as she gasps from the pleasure she suddenly receives. her grey eyes watch you heavily, making sure you're alright with her pace as she slowly picks it up.

"you feel so good," you whimper as you meet her motions by copying hers, crying from the sensitivity from your earlier orgasm. "fuck- i'm close again."

she grins at your confession, pushing herself harder on your clit as you cry out from the friction. she's mostly quiet, but a gasp escapes her lips anytime you improve your speed.

"come with me, y/n" she leans down, kissing you with so much passion as her eyebrows furrow in pleasure. you moan into the kiss, your breasts moving with each thrust as your nipples graze against the cotton of her bandeau. you felt your orgasm creeping, but you weren't ready for the intensity it comes with. you cry out against her lips, holding her against you as you feel her groaning from her own orgasm. both your hips stutter in your motions before you stop to look at her.

her head rests in the nape of your neck and the only thing you feel is her hot breath against your skin. as you untangle your legs, you kiss on the side of her head. "are you alright?" you ask after several seconds of silence.

she vaguely nods, still maintaining her breath before she answers "you have no idea what you're doing to me."

you smile as you caress her hair through your fingers. "i'd love to figure it out in the future," you continue, making space between your faces so you could look at her as you speak. "this idea you've just mentioned," you clarify as she looks at you speechless.

she kisses you passionately after a few seconds, smiling as she realises what you were suggesting.

"let me take you to dinner after your shift tomorrow?" she asks as her thumb trails your cheekbone. you nod, kissing her on the cheeks before you answer "gladly."

you both fall asleep, and sooner or later date nights with Sevika become your favourite traditions as you two engage in a passionate, but intimate relationship with each other.

tags: @sevsbaby @womenathleteshaveme @macaroni676

masterlist

[ultimateblogform488]

I decided to visit a high-end electronics store today, drawn in by the allure of the latest innovations. What I found was a display of gadgets and gizmos that seemed more concerned with style than substance. The salespeople were all too eager to explain how each device was revolutionary, yet they all seemed to be the same recycled concept with a slightly different casing. I was handed a smart device that promised to simplify my life but was, in reality, just another overcomplicated piece of technology designed to keep me tethered to a never-ending cycle of upgrades. The experience was as empty as the promises of the gadgets themselves. At least it provided a brief escape from the relentless turmoil of my life, even if it was a fleeting one.

[satori-runa]

—The star of the night

Summary: In the middle of chaos, Reca chooses you, his assistant, to replace the actual actress.

Words: 2k

Tags: Fluff, slight comedy, mr reca being mr reca

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

In your lifetime, you'd never been anywhere more glamorous than Reca's movie set. It was a polished spectacle of wealth, fame, and sheer creative ambition concentrated in a single place.

The set was pristine. Everything from the polished equipment to the crew buzzing around the latest cutting-edge technology spoke of high-budget prowess. Reca had wrangled only the crème de la crème of actors, and the script itself was a masterpiece, lauded by critics before a single frame had even been shot. Naturally, it was no surprise when the man beside you, the very architect of this grandiose vision, let out an audible groan, throwing his head into his hands. He pulled them down his face in a gesture so theatrical it almost belonged on the screen itself.

"No, no, no." He groaned, his voice laced with overdramatic despair. “Not like this. This is supposed to be art. Art!” He gestured wildly at the set. “Any three-year-old could create such a display with macaroni!"

While you found yourself captivated by the scene's intricate design—each prop in perfect position, the textures, the layout of furniture—all meticulously assembled to support the vision of an unfolding narrative, Reca saw only flaws. In his eyes, it was a desecration of the perfection he had so painstakingly envisioned.

To him, everything was wrong. The lighting was lifeless, casting shadows that fell harshly across the actors’ faces, robbing them of the soft glamour he’d imagined. The music? A hollow echo that failed to evoke a single stirring of emotion, as far from evocative as a flat note played on a broken piano. And the actress—the poor, unknowing actress who, in any other setting, would be lauded for her skill—was, to Reca, nothing short of an abomination in this moment. His eyes were fixed on her, his lips pressed into a thin line as he shook his head.

“Does she even know her lines?” He muttered, mostly to himself, though you heard every word. “It’s as if she’s performing in a high school play, not…not this.” He ran his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth, his presence a cyclone of perfectionism.

For the past hour, Reca had been tearing every detail apart. The set he'd once raved about was now an "ill-matched mess." The weeks you'd spent booking this elusive location, the endless calls, the backup locations you’d scouted, and the rejections you’d faced until this one finally came through. The casting? The exhausting process of reviewing tapes, organizing callbacks, going through Reca's list of notes and opinions on each actress, often just to have him change his mind the next day. And that demo track? You’d pulled every string, barely scraping by deadlines, just to make sure everything was in perfect order for him.

And here you were, watching it all unravel with each of Reca’s sighs and exasperated mutterings. As he kept pacing, criticizing the lighting again and muttering that the entire production was in danger of "crumbling into mediocrity," you couldn’t help but let out a silent prayer. An aeon, a muse, a miracle—someone save me, you thought, raising your hands briefly to the heavens in a quiet display of surrender.

Because if Reca’s mood didn’t lighten, there was absolutely no way this movie was getting made today.

Just as you were silently pleading for an escape from this nightmare, Reca’s pacing came to an abrupt halt. His head snapped in your direction, and his gaze narrowed, a glint of sudden inspiration lighting up his face. You felt a jolt of dread. That look—oh, you knew it too well. It was the same look he had whenever he came up with one of his “brilliant” ideas, which, more often than not, meant you were in for another impossible task.

“You.” He said, pointing at you with a fervor that made you take a step back. “You’ll be perfect.”

You blinked, uncertain if he was joking. “Me?”

“Yes! You!” He clapped his hands together, excitement bubbling up in his eyes. “Don’t you see? You have everything this role needs. Raw energy, authenticity—a complete lack of…training! It’s fresh. It’s real!”

“Reca, I don’t think—”

“Nonsense!” He cut you off, waving your protests away. “You’re exactly what this film is missing! All this time, I was looking in the wrong places. These actresses…they’re too polished. Too practiced. They lack that something—that spark of untamed potential that you have.” He smiled, a bit maniacally, but you could tell he was deadly serious.

“But I’m just your assistant.” You stammered, feeling your face flush. “I don’t know the first thing about acting. I’d probably ruin the entire film!”

“No way.” He insisted, eyes blazing with enthusiasm as if he’d already envisioned you on the big screen. “Think about it! You’ve been here for the whole process, you know every detail. You’ve seen every scene in my head just as I see it. Who else could be better prepared?”

You opened your mouth to protest again, there was no one that had the same vision as him, but he was already motioning to the costume designer, barking orders to prepare an outfit for you. Any hint of hesitation had disappeared from his face. In his mind, you were already cast and rehearsed, the missing piece that would bring his vision to life.

The next thing you knew, you were being ushered into the dressing room, handed a costume, and given a rapid rundown of your character’s motivations—directly from Reca himself, who seemed thrilled beyond measure. Somewhere between his impassioned monologues and the mounting nervousness that took over you, you found yourself on the set, standing beneath the very lights he’d spent hours cursing.

And as the camera rolled, with Reca’s wide-eyed gaze fixed intently on you, you couldn’t shake the surreal feeling. You’d gone from assistant to lead actress in a single, unpredictable twist, and despite your inexperience, you found yourself saying the lines and stepping into the role…all under the watchful, eager eyes of a director who now thought you were the perfect star.

The set had quieted down, and the crew took a break, leaving only a few people around. Reca, still lingering near you after that intense practice, watched the others drift away before turning back to you with a small, thoughtful smile.

“Let’s run through it one more time, mon cherie.” He said, his voice softer now. “Off camera. Just us.” There was a vulnerability in his tone you hadn’t heard before—a subtle, unspoken invitation.

You nodded, though your heart was pounding again. With the equipment and the audience gone, the space between you felt strangely intimate, as if stepping outside the boundary of the roles you were supposed to be playing.

He took a steadying breath and stood before you, his gaze searching yours. “Close your eyes.” He said, his hand brushing yours. “Forget the lines, the lights. Just…feel it.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. You could feel the warmth of his presence, so close now that every brush of his hand seemed to linger, every movement deliberate. He guided you gently, his fingertips tracing the edges of your hand until your fingers were laced together, his touch grounding, even protective.

“Imagine…” he whispered, his voice soft and full of emotion, “Imagine there’s no one here but us. No cameras. No crew.”

You opened your eyes, and he was watching you, his gaze vulnerable and sincere in a way you hadn’t seen before. His expression held an emotion that was entirely unscripted—almost a question lingering in his eyes, as if he was daring you to step closer.

His hand moved to your face, fingertips lightly tracing your cheek. The way he looked at you was overwhelming, like he was seeing parts of you no one had ever seen before. It felt like he was letting you in, past the director, past the confident professional, to something real and deeply hidden.

“Just us.” He murmured, almost to himself, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. His eyes softened, and he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. For a second, it felt like he might kiss you—not as part of a scene, not as an actor in a role, but as himself.

You swallowed, your own emotions swelling, breaking past the practiced distance of assistant and director. The way he looked at you, the way his touch lingered just a moment too long, felt impossibly real. It wasn’t just acting. Not anymore.

And in that shared silence, the line between character and reality blurred completely, leaving you wondering if maybe, just maybe, there was something there that neither of you had dared to speak aloud.

Your breath caught as Reca leaned in closer, his hand cradling your face with an intensity that made the world around you disappear. His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat that stretched on, filled with a tension so thick it felt like the air had turned electric. His thumb brushed gently across your cheek, and you felt your heart pounding, anticipation building with each passing second.

You closed your eyes, half-expecting, half-hoping for the kiss that seemed to hover right on the edge of happening. The moment felt impossibly fragile, a secret shared only between the two of you. And just as you felt him draw in that final breath…

He pulled back, a sudden spark lighting up his eyes, and he spun around, letting out a shout that shattered the delicate silence. “Yes! That’s it! THAT expression—exactly what we need!”

You blinked, still reeling, as he practically leapt away from you, his energy blazing. “Everyone!” He called out, his voice filled with exhilaration. “Get ready to film! Now, now, now! We have to capture this—she’s got the emotion perfect, it’s exactly what I’ve been looking for!”

The crew scrambled into action, quickly setting up cameras and adjusting lights as you stood there, frozen and feeling a little…lost. You watched him pace excitedly, giving orders and pointing out positions, his focus now on preparing the scene. Meanwhile, you felt your cheeks flush with the sudden realization that the almost-kiss hadn’t been what you thought at all.

You felt the warmth creeping up your cheeks, your heart still racing from the almost-kiss that had left you somewhere between flustered and bewildered. As the crew finished setting up, you broke into a grin, chuckling softly at the absurdity of it all. Reca had played you perfectly, swept you into the scene so thoroughly that, for a moment, you’d forgotten where the acting stopped and the real feelings began. You couldn’t help but shake your head, laughing at yourself.

Reca, seeing your smile, grinned back, clearly thrilled that he’d managed to get such an authentic reaction. “That’s the spirit!” he cheered, clapping his hands together in delight. “I knew you had it in you!”

“You know, Reca.” You said, trying to keep the teasing note in your voice light as you crossed your arms, “you played me well. Got me all caught up in the moment. Almost too well, actually.”

He tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Only did what any good director would do.” He replied, a playful edge in his tone.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a spark of confidence as you leaned in just a little. “Well, maybe we should rehearse some more roles in private sometime.” You suggested, your smile turning slightly coy. “You know…just to pick up where you left me hanging.”

For the briefest second, he looked taken aback, his eyes widening as if surprised by your boldness. But then, that familiar grin returned, his gaze lingering on you with a newfound intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Perhaps we will.” he said, his voice a touch lower, his gaze still locked on you. “Only if you think you can handle a bit more of my…methods.”

Your smile deepened, and you felt a thrill run through you. Maybe, just maybe, the line between acting and reality was thinner than you’d thought. And if Reca wanted to blur it a little more…well, you couldn’t say you’d mind.

[optiblog]

OPTİVİSER - GOLD

Welcome to Optiviser.com, your ultimate guide to navigating the complex world of electronics in 2024. As technology continues to evolve at a rapid pace, finding the right devices that suit your needs can be overwhelming. In this blog post, we’ll harness the power of AI to help you make informed choices with our comprehensive electronics comparison. We’ll take a closer look at the top smart home devices that are revolutionizing how we live and work, providing convenience and efficiency like never before. Additionally, we’ll offer expert laptop recommendations tailored to various lifestyles and budgets, ensuring you find the perfect match for your daily tasks. 

AI-powered Electronics Comparison

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Top Smart Home Devices 2024

As we move into 2024, the landscape of home automation is evolving rapidly, showcasing an array of innovative gadgets designed to enhance comfort and convenience. In this era of AI-powered Electronics Comparison, selecting the right devices can be overwhelming, but we've highlighted some of the best Top Smart Home Devices 2024 that stand out for their functionality and user experience.

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Laptop Recommendation

In today's fast-paced world, choosing the right laptop can be a daunting task. With numerous options available in the market, it's essential to consider various factors such as performance, portability, and price. At Optiviser.com, we provide an insightful guide to help you navigate through the vast array of choices. To streamline your decision-making process, we have developed an AI-powered Electronics Comparison tool that allows you to compare specifications and features of different laptops side by side.

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[art]

Creator Spotlight: @jijidraws

Jiji Knight is a latina pinup illustrator. Her work is overall geared toward thick ladies and dedicated to fat positivity out of a purely selfish need to create art she wished she had seen growing up. She often features sexy and soft macabre themes on vibrant or sweet colours and takes great joy in making folx feel good about themselves with her work. She holds a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration and operates out of her very sunny hometown of Las Vegas.

Check out our interview with Jiji below!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Oh my gosh… I have art blocks all the time. My favorite way of overcoming it is by making fanart. Funnily enough, that’s something I don’t do in my own work anymore. But there are still IPs I return to that still bring joy to my heart. I love returning to drawing Sailor Moon like when I was in first grade. Or I’ll even look up the last fashion week and start drawing the fashion week outfits from the Paris or New York show. Stuff like that is what gets my creative juices flowing.

What medium have you always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

Resin. Resin art is so stunning. People make the most amazing and beautiful sculptures using resin, and I don’t think I could ever bring myself to play with something so complicated. There are a lot of ways to cure it, and sometimes, it doesn’t cure properly…I already work with enough chaos as it is! I respect resin artists, but I don’t think I would ever touch it. I’ve admired it from a distance. There is an artist I follow who does these resin layer paintings. So they’ll paint a layer of resin, then cure it, and paint on top of the cured layer. They build up these amazing paintings using resin…I could never. Maybe one day!

What is one interaction you had with a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?

I still remember…It was my first and only Flame Con in New York. I had a fan come up to my booth. They didn’t say hello or that it was nice to meet me. They started to cry! They cried, and the first words out of their mouth were, “I’ve never seen myself in artwork before.” So, of course, I started to cry! So we were just crying across the table at each other. It was just one of the sweetest interactions, and it really sticks with me still to this day.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

My latest collaboration with the artist Missupacey. We’ve been collaborating for two years now, and our last collaboration was for Midsummer Scream. It was two very cute clown girls, and I designed our T-shirt. It was one of the most fun projects we’ve done in a long time. We love doing collaborative work because it keeps working in the art industry fresh—being able to bounce ideas back and forth. So we do it where someone picks the color palette, and someone picks a theme. We’ll get references together, put them on a big board, and send each other sketches. It’s really nice to work with somebody else.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

Honestly, it changed everything. I mean, I used to draw for myself a lot. And while I still do that, I now predominantly draw for my Patrons. For a while, I was drawing for the internet. So I was drawing stuff people wanted to see in terms of plus-sized versions of characters—a plus-sized Poison Ivy or a plus-sized Sailor Moon. My Patrons have allowed me to start drawing for myself again. But technology, for a while, essentially dominated what direction I was taking with my art, so I’m grateful to take some of that power back.

If there is one thing that you want art enthusiasts to remember you by, what would it be?

Body positivity. I would love for them to remember that there is an artist making work that is making people feel good about themselves and about the way they look at themselves.

Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?

Have a method of taking money, have a method of displaying your work, and have a way to take a break. I have a plastic picnic cover that costs like a dollar at any store. All I have to do is clip it to my display grates, and it covers up my entire display. I feel secure enough to take time for myself in a 10-hour workday to eat something, go to the restroom, or even take a moment to breathe and reorganize my inventory. So it’s so funny that this one-dollar piece of plastic is like the most life-saving item in my display of items.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@mayakern comes to mind. She is another body-positive artist who expanded into making body-positive clothing. She’s amazing, and just to see someone else out there promoting body positivity. Maya’s been doing it longer than I have, I believe. It feels good to know that I’m not alone. Her work is always stunning, and I love her body-positive DnD characters and the fact that she’s still plowing through the clothing industry. For example, she’s expanded from skirts to button-downs and even custom-wrap shirts. I love to see what she’s doing, and it inspires me to pursue different avenues with my own work.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Jiji! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jijidraws.

[the-changeling-manor]

Genesis

2024. Yes, it’s 2024. It’s only 2024. The future of humanity will be greatly influenced by this decade, both politically and culturally. But a subject that splits the opinions of all, transcending politics and culture, is defined in two words: artificial intelligence.

Artificial intelligence is currently in its infancy.

The ia coupled with chronivac technology could offer infinite possibilities to the users of the software, which is so known to transformation lovers, but yet so impossible to reach. Imagine the chronivac capable of thinking on its own to interpret a prompt, imagine the chronivac capable of analyzing the world around it simply by wandering on the networks, and imagine the chronivac capable of satisfying your desires just with a photo.

It’s just a Dream. Imagination. Unreal.

Isn’t that right? Well.... Don’t be so sure.

——————————————————————

Think about this guy. He’s like you and me. I even think he's one of you who reads these words. Brown hair, thirty years old, young gay, it’s a kind of "mister everyone" in this community of male transformations, which besides will not even be named or represented by a photo, since I know that this guy is you. 

Indeed, every night, he connects on tumblr and reads these stories where people change to become the ones they dream of being, whether they are serious or only in the context of fantasy.

He reads stories, more or less exciting, sometimes redundant because full of clichés, the story you read is also a mountain of clichés, I guess. This ordinary guy is enjoying this moment. He is happy, even though he knows he will never be able to live it.

He is deeply sad.

He receives a notification. Someone who sends him a message on tumblr precisely. He thought it was still one of those bots that redirected to adult sites. Yeah you know, those same fake accounts that pollute youtube with their nude women photos. A real hell.

But this one was different. It had a profile picture of a Greek statue and a curiously long name. His message was accompanied only by a link, a link that immediately caught the attention of our young man since he could read the term “chronivac���.

There was little hope that it was not a dream, or his imagination, or unreal. But reality dominated his thinking. He opened the link 

“Chronivac, Latest Edition” was displayed in the middle of his screen. There was a drop-down menu with different pages on the website. One of them was called “Targets”. Clicking on it, he came across a world map, similar to Google Map but more sober. The site zoomed in on her house before displaying her name at its exact location. Not just her name. The names of her family members were there. Also those of the neighbors. And even of the inhabitants of the neighborhood!

Hope overcame reason. He wanted to believe it. He believed in one of those stories he could read on Tumblr. He pressed his name, and then— This is what he has always dreamed of. An extremely complete interface displaying all its physical or mental characteristics… There were even different options such as the ability to change reality or even use prompts instead of checking elements for transformations.

It was fantastic. He discovered the different menus and saw the image reader option as what the gpt chat could do. Suddenly, he had an idea. He recorded an image of a sexy guy that he followed on twitter and instagram. He added a prompt «Give me the identical physique of the man in the photo, and ONLY his physique». For the rest, he wanted something different. He did not want to become this man, he only wanted his body to serve as the basis for his new life.

For his mind, he deliberately clicked on the «Stupid jock» option, not wanting to  click on ten thousand different options to forge a new personality. Finally, to better change the reality, he launched a second prompt: "I will become a heterosexual Hispanic sportsman, completely dominated by primitive and conservative thoughts. The chronivac will disappear from my life and I will never have access to it again, no matter what.”

This last part could have been replaced by the possibility of making the transformation permanent, but he did not want it. He liked these cliche stories where the protagonist was forced to stay in this new life, a real victim.

His excitement made him want to get through this. He voluntarily locked himself in there. He fell victim to his fantasies. And he loved it. Not clicking on the permanent option would torture him for the rest of his life, leaving him the hope of one day being able to return, even if the prompt made it impossible.

He wanted to explode with joy. He clicked on one last “Adapt Reality” option before pressing "save".

A flash of light blinded him for a few moments. When his body stabilized, he found himself in a basement with sports equipment. "Felipe" he whispered with a Spanish accent. The little voice in his head had just been replaced, he no longer spoke his original language. An uncontrollable desire led him to live his new life as Felipe.

He now had the body of a god. He was incredibly well carved... neither too big nor fat. He measured 1.80m for 85kg. His beautiful pecs bounced, making him laugh. A long stupid laugh that let his intellect disappear, replaced by knowledge about bodybuilding, women and alcohol.

He had little hairs, apparently this gymbro body liked to shave... except under the armpits. He raised his arm to feel this tuft of black and musky hairs... sweat. Yes, it was normal, Felipe was doing his exercises. His whole body was covered in sweat.

Because of the sweat, his underwear was even tighter against his cock. His new penis was now circumcised, just a religious tradition. This cock had met many women in bed.

He also remembered that two friends had to join him for his bodybuilding session, and after that they were going to watch a football match. A good life well stereotyped for an athlete as stupid as Felipe.

He was now a gymbro like the others.

His mind was trapped inside Felipe, inside him, but he was so happy to have fulfilled his fantasy.

It was a dream, the imagination, the unreal come true.

——————————————————————

Please forgive me for the mistakes, I am not fluent in English!

It was a first story, based on the most common clichés in order to do something a little different.

The next stories will be shorter, it was only for the beginning.

I am open to all requests, do not hesitate to offer me images with the source if possible!

The images of the new Felipe come from this X account: @Mariosalvadr

[eevees-hobbies]

Sext Me Like Ya Mean It - NSFW (Fem!Reader x Haruka Sakura)

Author’s Note: This was inspired by this Haruka Sakura Nendoroid, where he’s blushing and looking at his phone. "But, Eevee, how did a cute little figure inspire a fanfic that’s 8-pages long? " I can’t stress enough how down bad I am for this man. Like I would let him put it in my ***, and I’d  *** his *** off of a plate. And I’m not even fucking sorry about it. I might buy this thing and purchase a *** jar, to be fucking honest. Also, if you see any debauched shit with Haruka, tag me cuz I’m Jonesing (I’m dead fucking serious). 

Synopsis: Sakura and technology don’t mix, and now you’re telling him there’s this thing called sexting?! It’s a no from him…unless you can convince him that sexting can be fun for all involved! How will you manage to do that? I dare ya to guess.

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Haruka Sakura. Sexting in the form of text and video, Togame sees your breast, masturbation for you, public masturbation for Sakura, pet names including kitten, sir, and daddy. Tis smut. Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 2.7K

Dividers by Saradika. Banner by me.

“What’s…sexting?” 

Sakura looks defeated as he poses the question. He had just grasped the concept of texting, and now you were throwing more terminology his way?

You shake your head, amused that someone who grew up in the age of smartphones is so pop-culture illiterate. “Sexting is just texting, except we send sexier, more suggestive messages through words, gifs, or pictures. It’s really hot.”

Sakura runs a hand through his dichromatic black and white tresses, “that sounds dumb and not sexy.” 

Even saying the word sexy has a persistent shade of pink stretching over cheeks. 

“Don’t knock it until you give it a try, Sakura! Anyway, have fun with Suo and Nirei tonight.” You give him a peck on the cheek, which results in a grumble and him pulling you in for a kiss on the lips.

You couldn’t stop thinking about your earlier conversation with Sakura. He was always so quick to disregard things he didn’t think he would be good at. 

You can think of all the times you suggested something new: baking, binge-watching Bridgerton, and volunteering at a cat cafe, and how all those things were immediately met with complaints from your boyfriend. 

It wasn’t until you forced his hand by involving him in those activities that he started to warm up to being someone who can bake a mean cake, enjoy a good cuddle session while enjoying the latest season of Bridgerton, and is actually a talented cat-whisperer.

So much like those situations, a little push might be warranted. 

You pick up your phone, enter the passcode, and flick past the home screen displaying a picture of you leaning up to kiss the chin of a blushing, scowling Sakura. 

Across town, Sakura sits at a bar with Nirei and Suo—a bar is usually not their typical meet-up place, but it’s Togame’s birthday, and they needed a venue that could accommodate the size of all the rowdy Bofurin and Shishtoren alums. It also doesn’t help that Kotoha also said, “Fuck. No.” to hosting the party at Cafe Pothos.

A light buzz vibrates in Sakura’s pocket; he leans over, pulls his phone from the back of his jeans, and looks at the screen. He’s pleasantly surprised to see a message from you; he thought you’d be half asleep by now.

God, I miss her. Hope she hasn’t started a new episode of Bridgerton without me.

As he taps on the text bubble icon to open the message, his eyes squint, needing some time to take in the message and then re-read it.

8:20 PM: Hey, baby. I miss you. Thinking of you sooooo much.

His heart thumps aggressively in his chest—a common result of simply thinking about you—as he stares at the text before him, already overthinking what he should send, but you beat him with a follow-up message. 

I hate back-to-back texts. Never have time to respond. 

8:22 PM: I’m lying in bed. Don’t worry…not watching our fave shows without you, kitten. 

He rolls his eyes at the pet name you gave him. You told him that he looks like an angry kitten when he scrunches his nose and bears his teeth. Wiith little complaint from Sakura, the pet name stuck. It’s so stupid and emasculating, but he kind of loves it. 

“You ok, Sakura? You’ve been staring at your phone for like five minutes.”

Sakura looks up at Nirei. “O-oh uh, yeah. Just texting.”

Suo looks over Sakura’s shoulder, trying to peak at his phone screen, “but you aren’t typing anything?”

Sakura tilts the phone away from his friends’ nosey eyes. Your conversations with each other are personal for him, and he’s committed to keeping you all to himself.

“Stop being fucking nosey!” he growls. Sakura decides this is becoming too much of a hassle, but as soon as he’s about to put his phone away, he receives another text from you.

He pauses to consider that he could wait until he is alone to read your messages, but who knows how long that would be? What if you needed something? He would be pissed at himself if he missed an opportunity to do something for you. He decides that the risk of getting caught being called a pet name by his girlfriend isn’t that big of a deal, so he flips his phone over to read your latest commentary. 

8:25 PM: Read receipts are on, so I know you’re looking at your phone. Party must suck.

What the fuck is a read receipt? 

8:26 PM: A read receipt means I can see that you’ve looked at the text message. 

He smiles, loving how you can read his mind even when you’re not physically in front of each other. He’s almost ready to make a pass at typing those exact thoughts out until the following message has him clutching the phone to his chest out of fear that someone could read it over his shoulder. 

8:28 PM: I think I’m…ovulating? I have this craaaazy desire to lick your balls all the way to the tip of your dick, kitten. 

Sakura gradually pulls the phone away from his chest, checking that Nirei and Suo are too engrossed in their conversation to notice the deep-set blush on his cheeks and how he’s peaking at the phone through his fingers. 

His thoughts are frantic; he has so many questions about a situation that he’s never been in before. Why would you send something so filthy through your phone? What is he supposed to do about any of this information when he’s so far away? 

8:30 PM: I’m drooling just thinking about it, baby. Remember when you fucked my face so hard that my hair had my drool in it? I want you to do that again. Fuck my cute little mouth. 

“Ok, this is ridiculous.” A hand reaches past Sakura’s face and takes the phone from his grasp. Sakura immediately stands up, the barstool he was sitting on making a loud scraping sound as it drags against the floor.

But the perpetrator is tall, and Sakura may have beaten his ass before, but they’re friends now, and it’s looked down upon to abuse your friends. 

Togame looks down at Sakura, shaking his head. “You’ve been on your phone every time I look over at ya. What is more important than spending time with me on my birthday?” He punctuates each syllable with a swing of Sakura’s phone.

Suo, ever the instigator, happily chimes in. “He’s texting Y/N!”

“Oh?” Togame’s brows furrow as he looks around the bar, realizing he hasn’t seen you all night. “Hey, yeah, your shadow is missing.”

In what feels like slow-motion, which it probably is because it’s Togame we’re talking about, Sakura watches as Togame’s eyes look down at the screen. He watches as emerald irises quickly scan the text—obviously a faster reader than Sakura—and his eyes widen. 

“Well, damn. That’s hot.”

Another text comes in to Togame’s delight. He lets out a whistle and hands the phone back over to Sakura.

“You sure you know what to do with a girl like that? I could take her off your hands.”

Sakura shoots him a murderous look; his fists clench as he steps toe-to-toe with him. “Wanna run that by me again?”

Togame chuckles, knowing that look in Sakura’s eyes. It was only a few years ago that he and Shishitoren had inspired that same look, which resulted in Sakura and Togame becoming close and saving his best friend’s life.

But somehow, the look Sakura harbors is more intense—protective—now than back then, and it’s all because of you. Togame fully believes that Sakura would be willing to swing on him for you and to protect your honor. Relenting, Togame pats his head, “Kidding. Y'all are cute together.”

Sakura looks down at the phone, curious to see what you’ve sent this time and what Togame glimpsed. What he sees is somehow worse than you calling him kitten or saying you want to gargle his balls down the back of your throat—it’s far worse. 

This time, you sent an image of you in front of a mirror, clad in only your bra and panties, legs folded underneath you as you pulled a bra cup down, exposing your breast.

His eyes dart up to Togame and down to his phone in quick succession, short-circuiting in a matter of seconds. 

Togame chuckles at Sakura’s reaction, “Yeah, she’s real pretty. Lucky guy.”

As Togame shuffles off with the image of your full breast sitting heavily on his mind and wondering what it would feel like for that same breast to sit heavily on his tongue—Sakura stomps off to the bathroom in hopes of regaining his composure.

Suo and Nirei exchange shrugs, assuming Sakura is experiencing one of his usual moods.

Sakura enters the furthest stall from the door and immediately texts you, with your picture still sitting enticingly at the top of his messages.

8:35 PM: Togame just saw that picture. 

Elipses in a bubble appear on the screen, signifying that you’re in the middle of typing. While he waits, he can’t help but look at the picture you sent, his thumb rubbing over your dark, perky nipple as he swallows thickly at the bulge straining against his jeans. 

8:37 PM: What did he say? Did he like it lol?

Sakura shakes his head. You are a ridiculously massive pain in his ass sometimes, but you’re also so…hot. 

8:39 PM: Send me another picture. But with less clothes. 

His heart is once again pounding in his chest, hoping you comply with little to no backtalk for once. He doesn’t even care that people are shuffling in and out of the bathroom as his foot taps against the shiny tile of the floor in impatience.

Another image appears on his phone in what feels like an eternity. This time, your legs are bent in front of you, with two fingers spreading your folds, allowing him to see every bit of your sex in the reflection of the mirror.

Before Sakura knows it, his hand is reaching down into his pants and palming his hard dick while zooming into the picture, inspecting every inch of you that he’s already previously committed to memory. His eyes dart over your clit, that cute little nub that makes you grip his hair as he sucks and licks at it. His eyes move down as he zooms into the image as much as it will allow, looking at your tight hole, which, despite image quality, he can tell is already shining with thick moisture that gives it that glazed, glistening look that makes his mouth water. 

Sakura unbuckles his belt, letting it drag his pants and boxers to his ankles. 

8:43 PM: Baby? Where’d you go? Or should I be saying hi to Togame instead?

Sakura grunts, not realizing that the logistics of sexting and jerking off can be so troublesome—you really have been teaching him a lot. He picks up his phone and shoots you another text.

8:45 PM: Shut up. Keep going. I like what I’m seeing. 

8:45 PM: Yes, sir.

His cock twitches at your use of that honorific. Yeah, being called kitten is lovely when you’re being sweet, but he also likes it when you call him sir or daddy when your naughty side comes out.

Sakura goes back to stroking himself and looking at the previous picture you sent him. The message is pushed up as you send a new image; he doesn’t have to scroll far to see something that makes him leak precum onto the toilet seat below him.

You’ve moved away from the mirror and are lying on the bed; your soft, thick thighs spread far enough to give him a clear view of the two fingers you have shoved in your pretty pussy. He can tell by the white coating near your knuckles that you must have been pumping the absolute hell out of her. 

His mind is racing. Were you thinking about him as you finger fucked yourself? What did you imagine him doing to you? How close were you, and could you hold off until he got home? 

Sakura squeezes his eyes shut, feeling like this entire experience is overloading his senses. He had just learned how to text, and now he’s sexting you? And you’re sending the dirtiest, filthiest messages to him as he jerks off in a public bathroom during his friend’s birthday party?

What the actual fuck..

He licks the palm of his hand and brings it down to stroke himself, imagining that it’s your slick being rubbed into the pores of his dick. He can’t even manage to start slowly because you’ve already done such an excellent job with these pictures—already making his cock hard to the extent that his balls hurt, and if he doesn’t cum soon, he’ll have to punch someone. 

Sakura begins mumbling under his breath as his strokes quicken and increase in intensity. She’s such a good girl for me. Perfectly needy and so into me. She’s so pretty and sweet, and I’m her Daddy.

He’s picturing you in every single position he’s ever had you in and every position he wants to try in the near future. 

He’s imagining sucking on your nipples, biting them as hard as he’d like to without you squealing that it hurts. 

He’s imagining pinning you underneath him while folding your ankles behind your head so he can hit that spot that makes you squirt on his stomach. 

He’s imagining you begging him to pull the condom off and fuck you raw because you “need every last drop of his baby batter” He shivers at the thought of you saying something so slutty and out of character.

The hand holding his phone vibrates, and he enthusiastically pulls his phone back in front of him. This time, you’ve sent a video; he’s never pressed play so fast in his life. 

The video is shakey, but when it beings to play, it focuses in on you fingering your pussy—-his pussy.

“S-SAKURA, FUCK,” blasts through the speakers as you breathily moan his name and your favorite expletive. 

He quickly lowers the volume but not too much so he can still hear as he presses the speaker to his ear, savoring the sound of your moans and the sound of your fingers being stuffed into your hungry cunt, mixing and squelching your juices noisily for him. 

It reminds him of that ASMR shit that you sometimes listen to–if he could have an ASMR recording of just you, your moans, and the sound your pussy makes for him, he’d listen to it every single day.

Sakura feels his hamstrings tighten and a burning sensation in his abdomen; listening to you is bringing him closer to his orgasm, and it feels like it’s going to be intense. 

God, and everything you were saying was just perfect.

“Your pussy misses you, Daddy.”

“I love the way-”  gasp “love the way you fuck me, baby.”

“Haru, I need you, baby. Please come home.”

“I’m so close, but I can’t cum without you, baby boy.”

“I want to squirt on your dick, sir. Please, please, please.”

Sakura hunches over and lets out a deep, guttural moan that can’t be stopped even as he grits his teeth. His balls clench violently, and his nut shoots out onto the toilet seat, toilet bowl, and on the floor. Even when he thinks that his cum is done spilling from him, more bubbles at his tip and dribbles down the length of his cock and along his knuckles. 

He leans against the stall wall and stares at the mess he made—all over himself and everywhere his airborne spunk could reach.

He’s convinced that he’s never come so hard in his life, and it was all because of you. Fuck! He hasn’t messaged you since you called him sir, and that was—he checks the clock on his phone—ten minutes ago!

He types out a message, sneering in disgust as cum smears on his phone screen.

9:05 PM: I just fucking came. Coming home. Don’t clean yourself up.

9:06 PM: CAME?! In your pants….? Or…?

9:08 PM: SAKURA?!

He doesn’t reply because he’s already on his way home to you.

[linkedin-offficial]

The evolution of Skypeople and their prolific adaptability

open read more for the rest of the text ! warning, long post (sorry lol :'D)

during the early days of skypeople life in the realms of sky, skypeople were very weak and susceptible to the elements and dangers that the land, not being very suited for habitable life just yet, had brought to them. because of this, they had to begin adapting rapidly as they finally began to settle into their chosen homes and settlements.

for example, those like the well known avians; known for sparking the invention of caped flight and nurturing many of todays bird populations; were a derivative of early skypeople that had begun sprouting feathers, wings, tails, and birdlike legs to better help them in their chosen environments of the clouds and wind paths. meanwhile others, like miners, were large and rugged skypeople that were known for their amazing ability to go long periods of time without a reliable light source; they had adapted not entirely because of their chosen home, but because of their occupation.

this amazing rapid showcase of adaptability allowed for skypeople to flourish and thrive, the populations all across realms booming very quickly, and communities growing with every passing year.

soon however, because of the many technological advances made by the growing expanse of opportunity that was created, machines and great inventions powered by the most skilled of light magic users were becoming the norm. intensely laborious jobs and harsh trekking became a thing of the past.

then, to complete the cycle, due to such advances, skypeople began to de-evolve. because of the great new technology that had now been mastered, there was little need for much physical adaption. so, as time went on, skypeople began losing these unique features, and looking much like the skypeople you may know today as "spirits".

some skypeople did manage to maintain small aspects of their adaptable family genealogy, but this percentage was miniscule in number.

fig 1 . two skypeople of the early settlement age. the earliest of the skypeople were small, frail, and very fragile. early skypeople would easily be mistaken for skychildren in todays age, no matter how old the individual.

fig 2 . two skypeople at the peak of evolution; an avian and a miner. due to the rapid evolution of skypeople, there was barely any inbetween period between the early age and the peak evolution age. diversity was abundant, and it was easy to find individual skypeople built for almost any job. avians, who excelled at flight; miners, who dominated the tough jobs in dangerous areas; and divers, who took to the open seas with ease; just to name a small handful.

fig 3 . after the slow decline of evolution due to technological advances, skypeople began to become even more diverse in nature. it became hard to tell just exactly the lineage of any individual simply by gazing at their features. because of this, masks, capes, and clothing depicting creatures, occupation, or status became incredibly popular. to dress extravagantly and display your lineage namesake was considered normal.

fig 4 . mostly all of the latest skypeople come from this age, all those we now know as "spirits". this age was not as extravagant as the detransition age, but many of the cultures and things learned stuck strong throughout. in this age, it was hard to find any who bore the unique features of the peak evolution age, which only encouraged those who were persistent in maintaining their lineage's namesakes through generations.

[sscieloz]

Irene and you have been together for the past couple months, but have only gone as far as making out. But, this time is different and you tell her that you’re ready to go all the way, which leads to your first time together.(smut)

Show me how

Bae Joohyun x reader

Warnings: smut, nsfw

Word count: 2.9k

Notes: sorry for the wait!!! i wanted this to be sweet and cozy, almost like a hug from someone dear yk? i hope it is to your liking <3

-

Dating Irene was like a summer breeze: it was easy, fresh, and cozy, just like feeling the sun on your skin, after spending too much time locked up at home. Unlike your past relationships, you felt completely comfortable talking to her about anything. You were always on the same page, and you couldn’t help but fall in love with her more and more each day as you observed her kind, caring and cheerful nature.

Even though you have dated people before, you’ve never gone too far beyond just a few kisses or touches, simply too insecure and scared to be that exposed in front of others. Besides, you’ve never actually trusted any of your past partners, either. They were clearly only using you for your body and your fame— trying to prove a point by attempting to ruin the shy, reserved girl from the group. As much as you knew that was how most of them saw you: merely a prize, waiting to be conquered, you couldn’t help but to feel used and lost, wondering if the problem wasn’t, in fact, yourself.

Which was the reason you were so insecure about evolving things with Joohyun, ever since you’ve started dating.

Truth be told, most of your hesitancy came as a way of protecting yourself. Being thrown into the industry by your parents so young— first as a child model, then as a trainee, and even now, as a senior idol— has pushed a lingering feeling of being constantly displayed to others on your skin, since that’s how you’ve always felt: exposed to tabloids and cameras in every way dimmed possible, from such a young age. Your whole life, ever since childhood, has always been rushed. Not once did you remember not being pushed to do things or act more mature than your age. In response to that, building up rough boundaries and ensuring your own peace and quietude were the first things you did, as soon as you managed to obtain full control of your life and your actions. You so desperately needed it; you’d accept nothing to be rushed, at least not anymore.

Which was why Irene and you were so perfectly matched. You felt it from the first time you were introduced to each other, through Joy.

You’d been talking nonchalantly in the girl’s parents’ cafe when Irene barged in, making you immediately drawn to her— as were everyone else at the establishment. She simply had such an angelical aura: like an untouched piece of marble, beautiful to look at, and too exquisite to touch.

“I think you’d get along well. You both seem like you need some company, you know.” Joy’s words made you both laugh awkwardly, at the time. Yet, she was right, in the end. Both of you had been alone for many years, longing for something that just seemed impossible to find in the current days. At least, not with such a technological world and people’s routine being so energetic, frantic, and intense.

After your first encounter, mediated by Sooyoung, you started seeing each other frequently. You enjoyed talking about art, and she’d even agreed to join you in your latest hobby: ceramics. The two of you spent hours together, getting messy with clay, laughing, going on coffee dates and walks in parks that were full of green— your favorite color, she quickly learned. It was easy to be in Irene’s presence, and, for you, it had been even easier to fall in love with her.

You shared sweet kisses by moonlight, stayed up until late watching the stars, and for the first time in so long, life felt right to you; like it wasn’t made of demands or expectations that left a bitter feeling in your guts.

For once, you felt as bright and happy as a butterfly, in a garden full of flowers. With Irene, life had a meaning, a purpose.

She’s also been nothing but respectful to you in all those months you’ve been dating, too. Not even once had she pressed you about sex, always making sure you were comfortable with everything and ensuring you two talked out your issues and boundaries. You got to know each other deeply before your bodies interlocked, and that was something you’ve never had with your previous relationships. You loved Joohyun for who she was: the kind, attentive, caring leader and friend with so many deep interests and hobbies. You could spend the rest of your days with her and still feel like there were so many parts of her to unravel. She was indeed pure art, an untouched angel.

And, while it had been crucial for you to take things slow, you now realized you truly felt ready to take a further step into your relationship. She was patient, calm, and just what you needed. As you stare at Irene, chatting ever so sweetly with her bandmates, your chest fills with warmth, knowing how much you absolutely adored being hers and how lucky you were to have her to yourself. You trusted your girlfriend more than anything in the world, and you desired her so, so much— in every way dimmed possible.

With that, couldn’t help but to gawk at her body as she walked towards the bar built in Yeri’s garden, the wooden structure put up to celebrate the maknae’s birthday. It was a simple and reserved celebration, yet your eyes were practically undressing your girlfriend right in the middle of the garden, for everyone to see.

You wanted her badly, like you’ve never wanted anything else in your life. And it’s not like you needed anything else, either. Not when you had her, making you feel so safe and secure. So right in a world full of wrongs.

Irene must’ve noticed the frown on your face— as you’ve always been pretty expressive— because she approached you quickly, placing her free hand on your waist in a delicate motion, “Hey, is everything ok?”

You take the drink she’s been holding in your hands and take a sip, nodding, “It’s all good. I’d like to go home, though. Do you think Yeri would be sad about it?”

You watch your girlfriend’s brows furrow, scanning your body in search of any signs of discomfort. When she doesn’t find any, her expression turns even more confused.

“I mean, we’ve just sang her happy birthday, and the girls wanted to—” You cut her by brushing her long, thick hair off her shoulders, fingers hovering her elbows as you bite your cheek to suppress a smile, once you feel her shiver. You’ve never touched her like this, specially in a semi-public space. Sure, you’ve fooled around many times, but you’ve never presented yourself with such assertiveness, such hunger.

Irene gulps. She feels her self-control escaping her body when your mouth brushes hers, mint breath caressing her skin. Yet, your sultry lips never found her mouth, and Joohyun finds herself opening her eyes— never even realizing when she closed them.

“Home, please?” You ask again, making a show of sipping on her drink. Irene’s gaze follows your mouth— all of her focus on the way you suck on the straw: so eagerly… much inappropriate for the scenery.

Safe to say, you find yourself humming happily in your girlfriend’s car not even five minutes later, as Irene eyes you suspiciously from the driver’s seat.

-

Despite nearly dying of curiosity, Irene doesn’t utter a word until you’ve arrived at your massive house, eyes still narrowed at your direction as if she expects you to regret your decision and tell her to go back to Yeri’s place immediately. She’s absolutely conscious of the anticipation working its way on her skin; it heats her to the core, and soon enough, it becomes impossible for her to stay put. Just the thought of having you, being the one who has the privilege to touch you, unravel you, make your eyes roll in pleasure… It’s enough for her panties to dampen and her hands close into fists, preventing herself from grabbing you by the hips and fucking you.

She licks her lips, staring at you through her lashes, still expecting. You’re the one in charge; with one word, your girlfriend will grant you all of your darkest, dirtiest wishes. The only thing you have to do is ask. Say it, even, and it’s yours.

You know it as much, as you interlock your fingers with hers and take your time going up the stairs, through the hallways as you kiss Irene without rush, ravishing her taste and her sweet, plumpy lips.

“I want you, Joohyun.” You breathe, guiding your girlfriend onto the mattress as you take your time untying your dress, letting it fall down your shoulders at its own pace. Even though you find yourself bare in front of her, you don’t feel threatened in the slightest. “Want you to make me feel good.”

If anything, you can only feel safe, respected, and loved. Feelings you’ve spent so long searching for. Far too long.

She extends her hand to you, holding you with such tenderness it nearly makes you melt on the spot. Soon, you find yourself under her, being smothered with kisses that trail down your chin to your neck and chest. However, Irene’s warm mouth stops just before touching you— to grant you plenty of time to process it all through, most certainly.

In fact, the words that brush past her lips reassure you of that, as she looks up, tone bearing a hint of hesitance. As much as she was nearly jointing with need, she wanted you to be completely clear of your wishes, “Are you really sure?”

You nod. “The most I’ve been in my entire life.” You murmur, scratching her scalp. Your touch is both reassuring and demanding, bringing her closer to your skin.

You let out a loud moan once her mouth is finally on you, and God was it worth the wait. Her saliva-soaked kisses leave a trail down your abdomen until every inch of skin is hers, and she’s reached your thighs. Her eyes are dark and don’t leave your piercing gaze, either, as she lowers herself until she’s reached your core.

You can tell she’s studying you: taking note of every touch, every kiss that has you gasping and stuttering. Irene takes delight in testing your preferences, attuning herself to what pleasures you the most. Ravishing herself with your body’s reactions, like the attentive woman she is.

“You are too beautiful, my love” She praises, grabbing both of your legs as she opens them, now presenting you completely exposed to her. You try to close them, involuntarily, but Irene shushes you, pecking the inner skin until you’ve relaxed enough for her to start teasing, once again. It’s only then that she bites, and even though her teeth barely sink in, it’s enough for you to jerk your body forward, a surprised gasp evading your lips.

It makes her laugh, adding another memory to her mind. “You’re sensitive, pretty girl.”

It’s the way she hums that provokes such sensations out of your body, you decide. The precise pressure her lithe fingers apply to your waist, the way she palms your breasts, twisting and pinching your nipples until they’re red enough to her liking— each time a little harder, to entice a louder moan. She’s playing with you as she wishes; as she’s always dreamed of, and it’s driving you absolutely crazy. You’re drenched, and Irene hasn’t even touched you properly.

She gathers your wetness with two of her fingers, going up and down on your slit until she’s gathered enough coat that she finds them sticky, noticeably wet. Only when she’s deemed enough, her fingers leave your sex and find their way onto her mouth, sucking without any rush. Your own throat starts to water as she does so, her eagerness dense enough to make you divert your gaze, feeling your face heatening up. You don’t keep your looks averted for long, since those same fingers gently tap your lips, gagging you as far as they can without making you choke.

“I’ll take care of you, Y/n.” She whispers, with her thumb caressing your mouth, encouraging you to continue. Which you do, with your eyes never leaving her hungry gaze.

Once she decides you’ve done your job of cleaning well enough, Irene’s attention returns to your pussy, as she lowers herself once again to your core.

“Do you want me here?” She blows on your cunt, smiling against your skin as she hears your loud whines. She does not pity you at all though, placing a languid, slurpy kiss on your pussy before moaning, too. This was heaven, for both of you, “Or perhaps here?”

You were sure you were mumbling too many incoherences, now. Not that you cared, anyway. You couldn’t, not with the way her nails were scratching your skin so gently, or her own wet, loud grunts that reverberated onto your pussy and made you see stars, not a single thought going through your mind. All you could think of was how desperately you needed to cum, how ardently you wish Irene’s mouth never leaves your skin.

You feel her hot breath fade from between your thighs. Thankfully, her fingers find their way to your dripping cunt before you even manage to whine, the mix of sensations making you press yourself onto her hand, so she’d reach further. You loved her so much. You needed more.

“S-so good.” You murmur, lost in pleasure. As soon as you close your eyes, dropping your head back to deepen your sensations, Irene places kisses onto your abdomen, now going all the way up until your lips interlock in a slow, deep kiss.

“Don’t close your eyes, my love.” She whispers, with her fingers still working onto building up on your pleasure. She squeezes one of your breasts as she says so, enticing another particularly loud moan from you—just as she intended to. Your sounds were the most heavenly melodies to her, and Irene simply couldn’t believe she’s spent a lifetime without hearing them. “Look at me when I fuck you. Fuck- you’re so tight, dearest.”

The low pitch in her voice makes you clench, humming as you keep your eyes on her.

Irene’s fingers are knuckles deep inside you, her rhythm intensifying as she nearly retreats them fully from your cunt to ram on you again. Your back arches, and she licks her lips, drinking from your reactions. It’s nearly unbearable, to have such focus on yourself; her sole attention, adoring and memorizing every inch of your body in her mind. Her gaze, so hungry yet compose, her light kisses on your burning skin, and her thumb brushing your clit without paying much attention to it—it all works you up to a hard, shaking orgasm. You can feel the waves of pleasure building up in your cunt, yet you can’t seem to muster the right words to tell Irene just that. It’s all glossy and unfocused, not even enough air to calm you down from the orgasm you can sense that is so soon.

“D-don’t stop, please. Oh my fucking— don’t stop, ’so close,” You manage to utter, gripping your girlfriend’s hair ever so desperately.

She does feel you, though. Before you even say it. Irene can tell, from the way your pussy clenches, tightening around her hold. “Come, princess. For me.”

The permission was all you needed to reach your high, and you nearly get overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you feel. It escalates to your whole body until you find yourself as a trembling mess, chest moving frantically to adjust your fast breathing. You let out an even louder whine as Irene’s mouth is on you again.

“Shh, take it easy. I’m just cleaning you up, love.” She tells you, once you try to move her head from her cunt. And, even though her words add a bit of a scold, there’s a hint of a smirk on her face, as she adds. “Don’t whine. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I left you so messy like that?”

Now that you’ve come down from your high, Irene’s words make you blush. She didn’t have time to make a joke or give you a reassuring tug, as she usually would, though. Her focus is on your sex, as she pays long, sloppy licks to it. Her nose brushes your clit— the post-orgasm sensitiveness making the sensation twice as hard, and you bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning and begging.

“J-joohyun…” You try to get her attention, after what it feels like a lifetime. You can feel the pleasure starting to build up again, and your girlfriend is clearly dozed out, vigorously enamored with your cunt as she eats you out for her pleasure. With one last harsh suck on your clit, Irene abides to your wishes, her face now in front of yours.

You take a minute to brush her delicate features, before speaking anything. Her defined jaw, her long lashes, her lustrous eyes. You adore her; she truly makes you feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

“Perfect.” She murmurs, breaking the gap between you as her lips kiss you with gentleness. Her words make you smile onto the kiss, caressing her neck as you bring her even closer. “My love.”

“I could say the same of you.” You divert your eyes to the covers, insecure about your following words. Breathing deeply, you continue, “Thank you for this. And for not rushing me, even after so many months. I loved it, and I love to be with you.”

As you stare at Irene’s big, chocolate eyes, you find nothing but the purest form of love. There’s no possible way to not feel comfortable under such embrace.

“I’d wait many more. Years, even, if it means having you by my side. I’m in love with you, Y/n. Not just for sex, not for your body.” She clarifies, hiding her face on your neck as she always does, when you find yourselves tangled in a messy embrace. “I love you for who you are. Your qualities, your flaws, your passions… And I’m very thankful to feel loved in so many ways by you, too.”

You frown, playfully poking her ribs. “Are you saying I’m flawed?”

Irene rolls her eyes, silencing you with a kiss.

“Shut up, you idiot.”

And soon you’re making out again, with the promise of a long, long night. You feel respected, safe, and secured. As you run your fingers through your girlfriend’s small waist, you immediately know: there’s no place elsewhere you’d rather be.

[lutewife]

Alastor relationship headcanons

gn!reader, hinted acearo spec Alastor, mention of one-sided radiostatic, who knows how many words

Warnings: mostly fluff, I don't think so

Notes: Whew it took me way too much time, but here it is! My first even headcanons! Hope you enjoy it, my darlings!

Platonic:

(I imagine it is after some time or after a certain bond is established between the two of you. Because let's be real, Alastor wouldn't act like that with just anyone.)

Alastor is... Well he certainly is.

To be frank though, I would say he is a generally good friend and a very useful one to boot.

People fear him and that means if you are seen as his friend, let's just say not many demons dare to get on your nerves (unless they are especially stupid).

If they do, just go to Alastor for help. He will deal with it, he doesn't mind getting his hands dirty from time to time. He won't always like it, though, so try not to overdo it.

Prepare yourself to pay him back too. He doesn't demand it, but if you buy him a nice whisky and invite him to dance with you as a thank you, you'll earn a lot of brownie points.

Having a powerful overlord as a friend has its cons though: people just won't leave you alone, especially his fans. If you like the attention: good for you. If you don't: then just deal with them accordingly. Your public image may change for the worse, but who cares, it's hell anyway.

Hanging out with Alastor is usually very chill, though it doesn't happen often, he's a busy man. He likes going out on a walk just as much as he likes visiting a fancy club or restaurant. I wouldn't recommend going to one with him, though. He has... Very questionable taste. If you have a very questionable taste too, then congratulations, you won't give a fuck either way.

Also he's such a gossiper, you can't tell me otherwise. If you're friends with Rosie too, prepare yourself to be drawn into the gossip circle. Soon you'll know every detail about the latest tea.

If it's your turn to choose a place, then just don't go to a cinema, and you'll be good. Unless they are playing black-and-white films, then he will somewhat survive and maybe even have a little fun. Just no modern technology, grandpa Alastor will have a stroke otherwise.

If we're talking about watching something, he fancies going to the theater. Bring him there and you'll get an unforgettable experience. He will be commenting on almost everything that is happening, to the point when you'll need to shut him up, unless you want to be kicked out (this man doesn't know how to whisper or is purposely irritating everyone, I swear).

When he really likes you, he might show you his collection of retro radios and other various antiques. Only if you're interested, though, he doesn't want to bore you.

Now onto physical touch, he isn't a big fan overall. But if you're good friends he won't mind a hug or little touches here and there. He also likes dancing with you. Usually he's leading, so it's not that big of a deal to him. He enjoys the little displays of affection, if you enjoy them too.

To sum everything up: he tries, even if he is a serial killer and a horrible person overall, but we don't talk about that. But either way you get some kind of protection, and hey! Just take it, because hell is not a nice place.

Romantic:

Now onto the good part! Alastor generally isn't a person who is interested in romance, but maybe if you were a special exception... He would catch feelings!

I imagine he won't confess first, he isn't someone who initiates something like that. So you would need to pull yourself together and do it yourself. At first he would be hesitating, though ultimately he will reciprocate. And boom! You're dating Radio Demon just like that.

Many people would be jealous, I imagine he received lots of confessions before, so by being his s/o, you'll get yourself a good amount of enemies (for example Vox you can't tell me, he doesn't have a thing for him).

But don't worry about it, Alastor, trying to be a good partner, will take care of any difficulties.

Actually, I don't think he would even want to announce your relationship publicly, though he won't protest if you wanted to tell your friends. And don't be surprised that when you tell Mimzy, the information would be already known worldwide.

I think dating Alastor wouldn't even differ that much from being close friends at first, but after some time he would slowly ease into doing new things with you.

Like he will come to really like your kisses! His favourite would probably be a kiss on the forehead. He wouldn't really kiss you himself, though. An exception is a kiss on your hand, because he really likes being a gentleman.

He would be a gentleman in other ways too! Like opening the door for you or pulling out your chair for you. Doesn't matter if you're a woman or not, he will treat you with respect either way.

His love language is giving/receiving gifts and quality time! Nothing beats spending time with you, even if you're just sitting in silence. He loves giving you flowers! They are usually wilted, and maybe not really on the pretty side... (More like dangerous). But I mean it's the thought that matters. If you buy him a new addition to his radio collection, he will gladly accept, too! He feels very valued when showered with gifts.

Dates with him will be really enjoyable. They won't differ much from when you were hanging out, but I imagine he would try to be even more fancy. And he will actually think before bringing you to a restaurant, which doesn't suit your tastes.

Alastor would gladly use pet names for you. Darling, sweetheart, love, you got it all! It's all natural for him.

When talking to you, he would use an entirely different tone, sweeter and softer. Yes, he has a soft spot for you, better make use of it!

Your relationship will be progressing slowly, but it doesn't mean he loves you any less. It's just hard for him to be romantic and intimate.

After some time, you will just act like an old married couple mindlessly in love. Your relationship is just like that, comfortable and content. Kissing, holding hands, just pure wholesomeness, which is ironic for such a sadistic and bloodlusty demon like him.

But if you wanted more than that... I mean in a sexual way, I imagine he wouldn't even think about it himself. But if you really wanted that, it would take like fucking centuries, but he would reciprocate. Though maybe not as you thought he would.

[redvexillum]

A/N: I didn't anticipate writing a Vox x Reader story (much less a raunchy, BDSM theme smut). But, I needed to get this idea out of my head so I can focus on my request and my other stories. So, here we are. Also, I've noticed there is a distressingly low number of PURE Vox x Reader stories, so I wanted to contribute to the database.

Though, I apologize if my version of Vox is lacking in any way. I have made many creative liberties with my head canon version of him.

Inspired by this post/conversation with the lovely miss @redfoxwritesstuff

07.09.24 - Now that I know where I'm going with this story, I have changed the title from [Short Fuse] to Signal.

SUMMARY: You royally pissed someone off because you were receiving anonymous hate emails for the past fifteen years. How incredibly petty and...entertaining. At first, you decided to ignore them but as their hate comments got increasingly creative, the more you couldn't help but add oil to the burning, passionate flame of their hatred towards you.

Until one day, the mysterious anonymous hater (probably) accidentally revealed themselves to be the one and only TV demon, an Overlord and CEO of everything technological and modern.

WARNING/TAGS: f!reader, toxic relationship, enemies to f*ck buddies to something indescribable, dom/sub undertone, sub!Vox, dom!reader, reader is a responsible dom, Vox takes a lot of L's but he secretly enjoys it, dual POV, Vox tries to be hip but ends up being a boomer, Reader is sexually liberal and confident, Vox is the brattiest sub you will ever find, kind of fluff if your squint

“Hello, my Sexy Peeps! How are you doing on this hellish day?” A melodious burst of laughter chimed from Vox’s phone. He took a dramatic sip from his coffee, savouring the rich, dark brew, and settled into his plush armchair, preparing to lose himself in her latest video.  

“Today, I thought I’d mix things up a bit due to a very popular request!” She continued and leaned forward in front of the camera, giving Vox a generous view of her cleavage. He approved her outfit choice for today, a tight-fitting cyan blue tank top with a plunging v-neckline.  

But aside from her attire, he was interested by her supposedly “new” content. He didn’t know she took requests from her viewers. Intrigued, he arched an eyebrow, setting his cup down on the side table and leaning his face closer to his phone.  

The newest online sensation on VoxTube was about to begin. This girl had seemingly materialized out of nowhere, drawing tens of thousands of views and subscribers to her channel. Her retention rates were astoundingly high for content so banal and ordinary. Initially, Vox had suspected his network had been hacked.  

He still couldn’t quite grasp how in seven layers of Hell she had managed to manipulate the algorithm with her simple videos. All she did was try the newest foods around the Pentagram and review random merchandise in a phenomenon called “unboxing.” 

His gaze inevitably wandered to the deep trench of cleavage she prominently displayed. He scoffed. He’d seen better. After all, his partner controlled the porn industry in Hell.  

Yet, that didn’t stop him from pausing her video sometimes, openly staring at her chest for a few seconds��� or minutes…or maybe he may have saved a couple (several) screenshots of her video and her photos from her Sinstagram account. Perhaps he might have even saved some of her more salacious-looking photos on his internal hard drive for private viewing. 

All for research, of course.  

“Now, I know there’s this series – the longest-running series in all of Hell…” she trailed off, her plump, pretty lips curling into a mischievous smirk.  

Vox straightened in his chair, feeling the first flutter of excitement in his chest. Could it be? Was she going to mention his most prized project, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” for free?  

Excitement surged within him, a giddy thrill that this lame, greenhorn, no-name nobody was about to mention his series to her 2.5 million (and growing) viewers.  

“Guys, guys, guys,” she laughed, raising her perfectly manicured hands in the air as if in surrender. “I watched the first season and wow–” 

Vox pressed his thighs together, waiting with bated breath for what he hoped would be a glowing review. Perhaps he should contact her, reach out, sponsor her like all the tiny, insignificant, worthless, businesses were doing.  

“I gotta tell you,” She shrugged, raised her immaculate trimmed brow, and with a hearty guffaw, said, “it’s pretty mid.” 

Disbelief washed over him as he stared at the screen. Instinctively, Vox paused the video, staring at the freeze-frame image of her with a large smile dancing across her lips.  

Mid? Mid? What the fuck did mid even mean? 

Scrutinizing the word in his mind, he thought maybe she had given his series an average score. Average. He could work with average. But judging from the comments filled with those annoying crying laughing emojis and agreement that it was bad, he realized it was another piece of slang from this decade that he somehow missed.  

Power surged through his head as his mind dove into the database, and he opened his trusty Urban Hell Dictionary. 

The definition of Mid was… 

Below average. 

Not good. 

Mediocre.  

Boring.  

“WHHHHAT?” He roared, his voice glitching in between the long-drawn-out word. Springing up from his chair, he picked up his mug before hurling it against the polished floor. It shattered into a cascade of jagged pieces, their sharp lines reminiscent of crooked, mocking smiles. The hot coffee splashed onto the hem of his pants, its sudden heat mirroring the fury rising within him.  

Memories surged through him, back to when he was alive, back when they cancelled him for not being innovative enough, for not being entertaining enough, for being… 

Being…. 

Boring.  

His eyes twitched, electricity crackled and jolted up in arcs across the surface of his head before fizzling out at the points of the antennas from his hat.  

He should kill her. Get Val to make her disappear or force her into working at his porn studio. How dare she call the fruits of his labour…b-bo-… He seethed, unable to even say the damn, blasted word.  

Vox thought of a thousand ways to torment her, relishing the idea of making her cry with her below-average, not good, mediocre, BORING looking face. Anger surged, boiled, in his veins, and he did what he knew was the best course of action when faced with this unprecedented insult.  

After all, with VoxTek, he had an image to keep of being on the side of the lowly Sinners. He chuckled, forced, but chuckled, nonetheless. It would smear his good image to go after some small, nobody of a Sinner. After all, he was an Overlord and the CEO of the largest corporation in all the five fucking points of the Pentagram.  

She was going to get so cancelled.  

That he would make sure of.  

Humming a random, jaunty little tune, you shut off the ring light and closed your laptop. Stretching your back, you sighed in satisfaction as your bones gave a gratifying crack. You giggled at some comments from your review of the popular series, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!”  

There were passionate defences claiming the series was a work of art, which was far-reaching at best. It was mildly entertaining enough to watch while you painted your nails. Seriously, the show looked like it was produced for the audience in the 1950s.  

You were the first influencer to give a poor rating to the TV series, and being first meant more controversy, more views, and more money from sponsorships as you rose to the trending list once again.  

Damn, gaming the system was the best. Truly, Hell was way behind its time compared to what people did for views back when you were alive.  

Following your routine, you washed away the makeup, changed from your tight-fitting clothes into a loose T-shirt and sweatpants, and laid on your king-sized bed that was far too big for one person. Staring up at the ceiling, you were surrounded by the void of your loneliness.  

You should…go out and fuck someone.  

Preferably, someone related to the entertainment industry. All that juicy gossip about your newest fling always raked in views and clicks.  

But the idea fizzled and died as you thought about having to play the submissive role, feeding their giant egos to compensate for their shit-sized cocks. You considered visiting the BDSM club, but influential people were rarely found out in the open in those shops. There was probably a private club that you weren’t invited to…yet.  

Vain.

Empty.

Nothing.  

It didn’t change much, did it? Whether you were alive or damned.  

Everything about your life was the same.  

Sitting up, you grabbed your phone and started to scroll through Voxazon, frivolously spending thousands of Hell bucks on useless crap.  

Retail therapy.  

The tried-and-true method to stave off depression and apathy.  

You were ready for that dopamine hit as you read through the reviews of the latest dildo models, your lips pulling into a sly smirk at all the new features of VoxTek’s newest sex toy.  

A chime resounded from your phone – a notification from your personal email. Your brows raised as the sender was from anonymous666@hellmail.com 

Confused, you opened the email, wincing at the possibility of infecting your device with a virus. But that thought quickly vanished as you read the email’s content.  

Subject: (no subject)  Dear Bitch,   Retract that fucking review about “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” from your video today, or you will regret it.   Furthermore, you have a “mid” face, and so are your boobs. Your boobs are super fucking mid. You probably get MORE views if you actually covered your boobs because that’s how MID they are.   And all your videos are MID. Especially the one you posted on July 7, 20XX, where you reviewed the Hellover drink. The one where you wore that shitty neon green tank top, which, by the way, is also fucking MID.   Anyway, this is my FIRST and LAST warning.   Fuck you.   P.S. Seriously. Fuck you.

Your eyes slowly blinked, once, twice, before a hearty, genuine laugh erupted from you. Oh my God. Did this prick actually hack your account to get your personal email to send such a shitty, lame-ass message? 

Breaths coming out in short, uneven huffs, you rolled over on your bed from side to side, clutching your stomach. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard. You hadn’t laughed this genuinely since you fell to Hell.  

As your eyes traced over the words of their message, you laughed out loud again. It looked like you had a butt-hurt superfan.  

Humming, you rolled over onto your stomach and kicked your feet idly as you stared at the message. “Thanks for the laugh, virgin prick,” you whispered, planting a loud smooch on your cellphone screen. “Annnnd, delete!” Your index finger daintily tapped the trash can icon.  

Now, back to the task at hand. You debated between getting the glittery pink dildo or the two prong dildo. Tilting your head, you decided you deserved a treat, so you ordered both. 

As you were purchasing more random crap, your eyes glazed over, your mind fervently thinking of what to say for your next season review for that TV series. Just then, an annoying ad popped up – of course, from VoxTek – promoting their shitty Cobra vibrator. Seriously, you tried it, and it did nothing for you.  

An idea rapidly formed, growing until you jumped out of bed and ran to your laptop. No one had truly (and honestly) reviewed some of VoxTek’s terrible sex toys yet. In fact, you noticed that every single review for their sex toy line had glowing five-star ratings.  

Now, some of their toys were outstanding, making you come so hard until you were sobbing, soaking your underwear from your release. But that was one out of every five toys you purchased. Like all massive corporations, VoxTek was clearly buying reviews, giving themselves perfect scores.  

Perhaps it was time to change that. 

Your review of the series and the anonymous hate message were soon quickly forgotten. This was your chance to shake things up, to give the unfiltered, raw truth that your viewers craved.  

With a determined glint in your eyes, you started drafting your next video script. This was going to be huge, bigger than Jerry’s dick from last week, that was for sure.  

NEXT ->

💠 MASTERLIST 💠

[hauntedestheart]

A Business Opportunity (Male Body Swap)

The sequel to "A Business Proposition"

Samson Mann was big, he was strong, he was (people told him) good looking, but most importantly, he was broke.

A few months ago his position at the warehouse (aka the only job he'd ever had since he left high school) had been made "obsolete" by new advances in technology so now, at thirty, he was being forced to brave the job market for the first time. But with just a GED, no special skills, and a resume with one reference, his only real job options were in degrading manual labor positions where the starting pay was insultingly low.

While Samson wasn't the brightest bulb in the drawer, his naturally stocky build and boisterous personality made him perfect for working in a physically demanding social environment like the warehouse... but no, companies would rather hire a robot.

After venting about it to his friends at the gym (one of the few indulgences he allowed himself after he had to start cutting costs) one of them had offered up a solution: a friend of a friend of a friend had begun working for Bod+E, and, if interested, he could hook Samson up with an interview.

While Samson wasn't the type to keep up with the latest tech trends, everyone had heard of Bod+E. Founded by eccentric young tech genius Kim Shinwei, the app was currently in the beta-phase and the only way to get access was through a hookup... which Samson's friend was happy to provide.

Samson didn't think of himself as the app gig type but it was the first offer that had come his way that wasn't entirely degrading, so desperation won out over trepidation and he agreed. Now, after two weeks full of paperwork, background checks, and drug tests, Samson was waiting in an office for a personal meeting with a millionaire.

Who was very, very late.

Samson shuffled in his seat again, his large ass uncomfortable shoved into the expensive chair he'd been told to wait in. A large faux-leather chair (conveniently taller than Samson's) sat empty across the desk from him, flanked by a display case of trophies proclaiming Mr. Shinwei's many, many achievements. Samson got the sense he was supposed to be intimidated, which seemed like overkill because waiting in anticipation already had him sweating.

Forty-five minutes wasn't unreasonable, he reasoned to himself. Right? After all, Kim Shinwei's a very important guy.

The only other person in the room was a slight Asian fellow seated on a couch in the corner- based off of his business casual attire Samson had at first assumed was some kind of secretary, but other than a small nod to Samson when he'd walked in the room the young man hadn't acknowledged him at all. Instead he was leafing through a large textbook and scribbling down notes, looking very much like he did not want to be disturbed.

Samson was debating whether or not to risk asking the not-secretary what was going on when he heard the door swing open behind him.

"There you are!" A voice boomed. "I hope you weren't waiting too long, I got a bit distracted when I was getting ready. You know how it is."

Samson rose from his chair and turned to greet the visitor, but when he saw them he did a double take. Based off of his hazy recollection of the photos he'd seen of Kim Shinwei he had expected to meet a weedy looking Asian man much like the one in the corner, but instead the man in front of him was a tall, strapping white man who gave Samson a real run for his money when they shook hands. Samson took in the way the man's muscles pressed against his thin white button up, and when he sat down and he splayed his legs in a way that created a very noticeable bulge that Samson had to quickly avert his eyes from. He looked like a porn director's idea of a businessman.

"Mr. Shinwei?" Samson asked, failing to keep his handsome face from scrunching up in confusion. He was certain he was being rude, but fortunately the man before him didn't seem to mind.

"In the flesh!" Mr. Shinwei chuckled at some private joke and ran his hand through his fluffy locks of hair. "And please, call me Kim."

"Good to meet you Kim. You uh," Samson cocked his head to the side, searching for an angle that would turn the stud before him into the engineer he'd expected. "You don't look like your photos."

The hunk in front of him smiled mysteriously. "No, I don't suppose I would, would I? But I like to dress up for meetings."

The not-secretary sitting in the back of the room snorted, and Kim flipped him off over his shoulder without turning back. Samson was a bit taken aback by the juvenile display and shuffled in place awkwardly, unsure what he was supposed to do, until Mr. Shinwei looked back at him and stretched a hand out illustratively.

"Why don't you take a seat?" Kim offered, suddenly the picture of professionalism once more, and Samson plunked himself down into the chair gratefully. Kim leaned forwards in his seat and locked eyes with with Samson. "So, Samson Mann, right? Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with us, we really do appreciate it. You came very-" Kim's eyes flicked up and down the length of Samson's body. "-highly recommended."

"Thank you, that's great to hear," Samson straightened his back and cleared his throat, attempting to disguise his discomfort. He wasn't very used to professional environments (if this could be called professional) so he sent up a prayer that he wouldn't do anything to embarrass himself and jeopardize the opportunity. "My buddy seems to really love working for you and I needed a change of pace so I thought, why not?"

"Your buddy... that's Joel Green, right?" Kim asked, and Samson nodded. Kim hummed thoughtfully, glancing up at the ceiling like he was remembering something. "Great, I love Joel. One of our most requested- his ass is to die for, right? That thing can shake."

"Uh-" Samson coughed to cover his surprise, and he stared at Kim in bewilderment. "Is this a test? Are we gonna get in trouble with HR or something?"

Kim chuckled and shook his head. "Yes I suppose that is a very unusual way for a boss to speak about an employee- but then Bod+E is a very unusual company. You're familiar with what we do, correct?"

Samson nodded, squeezing his fist beneath the table, and then a beat of silence followed. A sharp look entered Kim's eyes as they flicked over Samson, and he raised his eyebrow expectantly.

"Then tell me about it," Kim leaned forwards and grinned wolfishly at Samson, his pretty face baring a mouth full of pearly white teeth. "If you're considering working for us you have to be comfortable with our service. I want you to tell me what we do here."

"Bod-E, short for Body Exchange, is a silicon-valley startup that-" Samson began, wracking his brain to try to remember what he'd read on the company website.

Kim snapped his fingers and cut Samson off. "No, I don't want the corporate party line bullshit. Tell me what you think it is we do here."

"You uh- you rent out people," Samson said, stumbling over the words a bit. Truthfully, he was still wrapping his head around the idea. When Joel had first told him what he did at his hot new job, Samson had laughed in his face until he realized his friend wasn't joking, and even sitting in front of the creator the reality of it still seemed fake. "You hire guys and then other men pay to take over their bodies and do stuff in them."

Kim leaned back in his chair, a small smile on his face, and the tense atmosphere lifted slightly. Samson exhaled in relief at evidently having passed the test, and he let himself relax a bit as Kim began to speak.

"That's a good start but we're about a little bit more than that," Kim visibly puffed up with pride as he spoke about his work, and Samson tried his best to focus on his words and not the nipples that were poking through his shirt. "Bod-E is about creating experiences, it's about offering people the opportunity to become the man of their dreams and allowing those of us who weren't exactly blessed to work with someone who was to take advantage of their natural goods and get a bit of a break. If a poor man can rent a nicer house when he wants a vacation, why can't an average man rent a more attractive body for a getaway? It sounds too good to be true- but it isn't. And I've proven it."

"I just wanna check," Samson blurted out before he could stop himself. "This isn't a scam, right? You're not gonna steal my organs or something?"

Kim raised an eyebrow. "Why on Earth would I do that? They're far more valuable inside of you."

Samson tensed up when the businessman rose to his feet and slowly circled the desk, trailing his fingers along the polished wood behind him as he zeroed in on the interviewee.

"See, Samson, scams are about money, and I've made enough money to last myself a lifetime," Kim shrugged as if to say just a fact. "I have no motivation to go around scamming random men off the street. No, I do this because I believe in it! Because I care about my fellow man."

Kim was right beside Samson now and he hopped up to take a seat on the table, close enough that the two men's legs brushed together when Kim leaned back to lounge. He began to unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt, tugging it open to expose his shapely pecs, and the fingers of one of his hands idly rubbed at them as he continued to speak.

"Not everyone is born with the same natural advantages Samson," he continued, casually, as if he wasn't stroking himself, and Samson was mesmerized by the motion. "The world is different when you're beautiful, in ways that the beautiful people don't even understand because they think it's normal. And I think everyone should have the opportunity to enjoy that, even if it's just for a night." He snapped his fingers and Samson flinched, looking up to meet a gaze that seared into his soul. "And you're going to get the opportunity to help with that, and make a fuckton of money on the side. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"Uhhh," Samson muttered, a bit stupefied, and he shuffled awkwardly in his seat. "I guess? You kinda lost me a bit in the middle."

Kim chuckled and hopped to his feet, strolling back around to the far side of the table and reclaiming his chair. His shirt, Samson noticed, still hung open. "Let me put it another way then... Samson, are you happy with your body?"

Samson glanced down at himself, and he found no reason to be unhappy. First and foremost, he was healthy. But in terms of looks, he had nothing to complain about either.

While not overly obsessed with his appearance, he was very aware that other people thought he was handsome, and he'd never had any issues attracting a partner. A big guy since he was young, tall and with a stocky build, his years of laboring in a warehouse and the gym had granted him big arms and a small muscle gut- he wasn't cut like a pretty boy model, but he thought he looked good with a bit of fluff around the waist. He had a big, round ass too, and now that "thick" was back in fashion he was more popular than ever.

He flexed his arms subconsciously and nodded. "Yeah, I am."

"I suppose I should have expected that answer from you," Kim said with a laugh, and his eyes roamed Samson's body shamelessly with something close to hunger. "You're tall, strong, handsome- what would you have to be insecure about? But if you would indulge me for a moment, imagine that this wasn't you and you weren't happy with your body. Imagine you looked like..." Kim pointed at the young man still leafing through a textbook at the back of the room. "Like him over there, just to choose a completely random example. Small, skinny, weak, and you had always been that way and you were scared that you were always going to be that way. Never the hero, never the object of desire, always ashamed."

Samson detected a hint of bitterness in Kim's voice, but he wisely chose not to comment on it. Instead he tried to play along and just nodded.

"So if someone told you that you could have the opportunity to feel like this," he gestured towards Samson's powerful body. "to feel like the man you want to be... would you be willing to pay for it?"

"I think I would," Samson found himself agreeing, and he pressed his hands to his belly almost protectively.

"Then you understand why I'm so passionate about the service we provide." Kim smiled, a mischievious glint in his eye. "And here's a follow-up question: On your first day in this hot new body, what would you do?"

"Um..." Samson's brain was overheating and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Honestly? Fuck people."

"See?" Kim cackled with delight. "You're a natural, you've already wrapped your head around our business model." He opened up a folder and slid a sheet of paper across the table towards Samson with some paragraphs and diagrams on it, which the poor man couldn't make heads or tails of. "It's no secret that many of our clients have specific intentions with bodies contracted through our services, but as you can see here, it's all very understandable."

"Sorry but I gotta ask," Samson rubbed the back of his neck nervously, and he was barely able to look at Mr. Shinwei as he spoke the question on his mind. "Isn't this... isn't this prostitution?"

A pause.

"Technically speaking," Kim's words were practiced, as if he'd given this speech several times before. "The government has no name for what's happening here, and can legally do nothing about it. We've followed all appropriate government regulations and are working closely with lawmakers on potential future regulation of the market."

Then Kim smirked. "But that's just the bullshit I have to deal with. All you need to know is that you'd work on commission, so it would be in your best interest to, well, remain as appealing as possible. No one will be allowed to use your body for anything you don't consent to," Kim paused and tapped at the page he'd laid down on the table. "But our data does show that gigs are weighted heavily towards employees who do allow clients to perform sex acts in their bodies, so, make of that what you will. Do you understand what I'm getting at here?"

Kim linked eyes with Samson, and the bigger man nodded. Deep down he'd known what he was getting into, but hearing it said aloud was still very unsettling.

"And it's safe, right?" Samson asked, and Kim smiled at him.

"We watch out for our people," he said simply. "Our security measures are airtight- I designed them myself, and we haven't had an incident yet."

Samson opened his mouth to ask something else, but Kim cut him off before he could speak.

"You seem nervous," the businessman said bluntly. "So let me just assure you that you have nothing to worry about- you're definitely..." Kim licked his lips. "Qualified, for the job. I can see you doing very, very well here, but only if you're willing to take a leap of faith on this opportunity."

"I can see from your resume that you were laid off from your last job because your company replaced you with a machine. Well congratulations, you've stumbled in to the one line of work where guys like you can never be replaced."

Although Kim was trying to put Samson at ease, something about the way the businessman spoke sent a shiver down the big man's back. Still, Kim's words made sense, and at the end of the day Samson needed the money so he girded his loins and plastered a smile on his face.

"But..." the big man faltered. "The pay's good?"

"Ah yes, money," Kim's nose wrinkled up for a moment, then he sighed dramatically. "It always comes back to that, doesn't it? Well, if that's what you're looking for, you're in the right place. Depending on how much of your time you're willing to offer to the company you can expect to take in somewhere between six to eight thousand dollars a month. Perhaps more if you establish regulars who request you privately."

Samson whistled- that was a lot of money! Definitely more than he'd ever made at any of his other jobs. A lot of questions still swirled around his mind but when the numbers were laid out like that, he knew that there was only one answer.

"I cannot believe I'm gonna say this but... I'll do it!"

"Well then!" Kim clapped his hands and stood up, extending one hand forwards, and Samson rose to meet him with a handshake. "All that's left is the trial run."

"Trial run?" A look of bewilderment crossed Samson's face, and then he grasped the implication of Mr. Shinwei's words. "You mean..."

"A test swap," Kim smiled sweetly, but Samson could see that he was practically trembling with excitement. "With me, of course. I vet all of our new hires personally. After all, I wouldn't market a product without testing it first!"

Samson grimaced slightly at being referred to as a "product," but he nodded his head. This was what he'd signed up for after all, might as well get used to it now.

"Allow me to just confer with my associate here for a moment," Kim turned towards the Asian man sitting in the back of the room– Samson had almost forgotten he was there. "Peter, would you mind?"

The man called Peter looked up from his book and rolled his eyes, then picked up the phone next to him and tapped on its screen. Suddenly, both men froze in place and their faces went blank, eyes staring blindly into space. Samson glanced at the two nervously, wondering if he should go for help, when suddenly they snapped back to attention.

Samson watched as the man in front of him stumbled, and he reached out to steady him.

"Mr. Shinwei? Are you okay?" Samson asked, a little nervously, but the man in front of him just sighed and jabbed his thumb back towards the man seated with the books.

"I'm over here actually!" The not-secretary waved, rising from his seat and walking over to join them . "And please, I told you, call me Kim."

It took Samson a moment to put it together.

"You mean, that whole time we were talking, you were–" Unable to articulate himself, Samson rapidly pointed between the two of them.

"Swapped?" Kim chuckled, his voice much reedier in his real body. The real Kim Shinwei was shorter than both Peter and Samson, but as he stood beside them he had a presence that towered over both of them. He slapped the shoulder of the body he'd just been inhabiting, and the man inside rolled his eyes. "Yes, Peter is my... let's just say assistant, and I like to use his body for negotiations since his dashing visage has a certain presence that I lack."

"You mean I exercise and shower," Peter remarked with an eye roll, and Kim just laughed.

"That's one way to put it," Kim mused, a razor sharp smile on his face. "And yet, which one of us is rich?"

Peter grumbled incoherently then plucked something from the back of his neck and dropped it into Kim's palm. Kim held it up in the air for Samson to see: a small white bead of plastic.

"Now, crash course, this is the neurolinker that's going to facilitate the swap," he explained, rotating item in the air to show it from every angle. To Samson it just looked like a jellybean, but Kim proudly declared that it was jam packed full of intense tech. "It's going to bind seamlessly to the back of your neck– you might feel a little tickle, but that's it. Do you mind?"

He pointed towards the back of Samson's neck, and Samson nodded. Kim passed the bead back to Peter, who crossed behind Samson and placed a hand on his neck.

Samson tensed up. "Warn me before you-"

"It's already on," Peter said, and sure enough, when Samson reached back he felt a small bump at the base of his neck that he assumed was the neurolinker. He blinked in surprise– he hadn't even felt it attach.

"Everything feel okay?" Kim asked, and Samson nodded, still rubbing his fingers over the device in fascination. Kim grinned when he noticed Samson's interest. "Like I said, seamless! Comfort was a major factor I considered while designing it."

He held his hand out to the side, and Peter slipped a phone into it.

"They're activated wirelessly via the app– and don't worry about it activating by accident, the commercial models our customers receive are activated a three factor identification system tied to biometrics." Kim tapped at his screen as he spoke. "But I have an admin copy with special privileges so the process will be a bit more streamlined for us today. All I have to do is just–"

Everything went white for a moment, and when Samson blinked again, he was staring at himself.

"Tap right there on the screen!" Kim said, finishing the sentence he'd begun in his own body. "And the transfer happens instantaneously."

"Woah," Samson muttered, clearing his throat a few times before he realized the reason his voice sounded different was because it wasn't his voice.

Even knowing what was going to happen hadn't prepared him for what it would actually be like to be in another man's body. He was short now. More than that, he was skinny. Not even just skinny, a twig. He patted himself down, feeling only the frail bones of an under-exercised engineer, and he shivered. Who knew having no meat on his bones would make him so... chilly?

If being in another body was strange, seeing his own body from the outside was even stranger. He knew he was a big guy, but from his new smaller body he looked like a giant, and Mr. Shinwei was clearly having the time of his life with it.

There was an expression of glee on his face as Kim inspected his body from the inside, and the man had zero shame about groping Samson's body right in front of its owner. Samson watched as Kim glanced over his shoulder at his backside and then began shaking his hips around and Samson saw his ass jiggle around- he hadn't even known that his butt did that.

"Oh this is nice, this is very nice!" Kim exclaimed, then he turned his attention back front and tore his shirt open (literally tore the buttons off, which made Samson wince since that was his only dress shirt) to expose his sexy, hairy body to the room. He licked his lips at the sight of the powerful pecs that sat above Samson's belly, letting out a chuckle as he tweaked one of his nipples.

"Would you mind if I-?" Kim glanced at Samson and then gestured down towards his pants. Still speechless, Samson nodded yes, and Kim tugged his waistband forwards and looked inside. He smiled. "Oh, this is definitely workable."

Samson's mouth gaped, and all he could think to do was mutter a stunned "thank you."

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to show a little self-restraint," Peter said, clearly less impressed by what was happening, and Kim flipped him off.

"And it wouldn't kill you to lighten up a little!" He chastised his assistant, strolling across the room to stand before a full length mirror in the corner of the office. "Look at where I am and what I'm doing. Look at this body!" The flexed his borrowed biceps like a bodybuilder, grinning ear to ear at the sight of his new muscles, and he smacked at his belly. "Why wouldn't I enjoy it?"

He snapped his fingers and pointed towards the door, then turned his full attention to the mirror and began removing his pants. A still speechless Samson managed to catch a glimpse of his own bare ass before an arm wrapped around his shoulder and tugged him away- he grunted in protest, but unfortunately his new body was too weak to put up a fight.

"I'll take you to HR to fill out some paperwork," Peter muttered as he ushered Samson towards the door. "He's gonna be at this for a while."

The last thing Samson heard before the door shut behind them was the sound of skin on skin, and his own voice groaning.