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hazelfoureyes · 15 days

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A Doe in Fall (Part 9)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things 📍 Part 10 - Good Deeds

Part 9 - Shiny Things

Ephi moves in, and Ruth reads you like an open book.

「Warnings/Promises: HumanAlastor x Fem! BurlesqueReader, Reference to domestic abuse of non-reader character, fucks, crows, swans, emotions be emotioning, so many birds, I don’t think reader is Aromantic I think she’s just stubborn, Cliff diving is just a joke do not follow people off cliffs, everyone is kicking reader’s ass in some way, my apologies to parts of Texas but not Texas as a whole」

Long time no see ! My head wasn’t in the right space for this story, and my head was also literally not doing well. But! Reading glasses helped since I’m writing on my phone like 7 inches from my face. the goal is Wednesday updates~ there’s about four parts already written so we’ve got a month of runway 👌🏼 Wednesday mornings are ‘God, That’s Good’ by @macabr3-barbi3 and nights are ADIF!

🎶 last time on A Doe In Fall 🎶 : you came home from your first week staying officially at Alastor’s to find your estranged sister waiting on your stoop.

this isn’t sexy but just like minors come on, MDNI? This blog is a sex shop

It’s not that you hated your sister, it’s that you resented her. You could love someone and not like them an ounce… but unfortunately when she left so did your familial love. Which meant all that held you together now was distrust and an obligation to a dead woman.

“So things didn’t pan out up north?” You waved her into your apartment, agitation apparent in even the gesture of your arm.

“It’s peachy! Just need to lay low a bit.” She said it with a chipper voice while looking around your apartment like she paid for it. “Wow you weren’t lying about the no money, huh? Talk about a shoebox.”

Charming.

“Well, Ephi, you’re welcome to leave.” While you didn’t understand the name it wasn’t your business to question what someone asked to be called. Especially considering your own dual identity. You may have disliked the woman but human decency still hung to the bones of the relationship you called your sisterhood.

An obnoxious chuckle, “Nah it’ll do! Just the one single bed?”

“Why would I have more than one bed?”

A deep sigh from her, “Still last to be picked by the fellas, sis?” Her hand passed over your dresses hanging in the open closet, “The ugly duckling was always your favorite story.”

The fine hairs rose on the back of your neck, a cat’s hackles moving as the anger bristled through your body. You opened your mouth to shout all the ways you were not the ugly one in the room, hand already in the air to direct her attention to the dried, hanging flowers covering the far wall. How many people threw flowers at her feet? How many proposals were shouted to her? Wedding rings slipped off fingers and into pockets for her?

The air in your lungs went flat as a small fire of embarrassment rose in your gut.

How could she so quickly reduce you to a little girl again? Taking the bait for a fight you couldn’t win, because she wasn’t listening to anything but her own voice. Biting the inside of your cheek, your hand fell back to your side.

“You can take it. I’ll just be by for clothes now and then. Been staying with a friend closer to work.” Flipping through your mind you tried to catalog your valuables. What did you absolutely need to not turn up missing?

Ephi sat on the bed and crossed her legs in her best imitation of a lady. “Staying with Mister Fancy Pants?” A smile that reminded you of your childhood. A smile that said, “I won’t tell mom!” Right before turning and running to your mother’s ear.

“No.”

A giggle two octaves above her usual tone, “Sure, okay! No skin off my back.”

You took your time to gather the items you had forgotten first, then the items you didn’t want her to have. Unsure how exactly to tell Alastor why a week into sharing his home officially you were already redecorating, you left that for your future self to figure out. The first item was obvious.

An angel statue your mother kept on her nightstand. You wrapped it in some newspaper, trying not to look in her direction.

Your sister chased dick like most people chased liberty. Something she shared with your mother. Which was her right, but it rubbed you the wrong way how she would always forget everyone else in her life when she had a man to call her own. A fair weather friend, at that.

“How’s Howard?” The dick that took her away so many years ago.

She abandoned the lady act and rummaged through your cabinets, “Who’s that?”

Right.

A gold coin on a necklace. You slipped it inside a sock.

“So, then, who is the man of the hour?”

Ephi began opening the dresser drawers, poking here and there. “Whaddya mean! I am an independent woman.”

You weren’t sure that had ever been true. While your mother had drilled it into your skull to never place yourself in the need of a man, she always seemed to throw her heart (and house keys and purse strings…) at the feet of any man willing to love her.

“Love” her.

There was no love in any of that. A common problem of confusing love with any and all intense emotions affected your mother and many others.

Slashed furniture is not adoration. Breaking windows is not a love language. Bruises are not affection.

Your hands ran down the bag’s shapeless sides. Without thinking, you smiled. Adoration. Love languages. Affection. You had them and the knowledge of their secrets all to yourself.

Secrets you didn’t need slipping out. Secrets your sister couldn’t hold to save her life, or yours for that matter. You hurried around the room grabbing knick-knacks and photos and jewelry. Alastor would be at work soon, you wondered if you should call to warn him. This time not about a hot headed flatfoot but a nosey sibling.

You’d tell him later. No reason to talk to Brenda again. Quickly your leather bag got full and heavy. What was supposed to be a casual foray into sharing a home already turning into a full on move.

Everything you needed and a few things no one ever would, because damn would Ephi pawn them the very second she needed something, were safely zipped away. Any plans to relax at home before work were abandoned and you just marched to the door.

A random memory flashed behind your eyes, washing Alastor’s hair in the tub until the water ran clear. Why now? The only memory shared in your apartment. And it was an awful one. But, it had Alastor. That gave it value.

“Hey, if any men come by looking for me you just don’t answer, okay?” You forced your face to relax, to show the sincerity you worked so hard to keep to yourself, “Please, Ephi.”

Her smile widened past unnaturally white teeth, no money for a room but clearly cash for peroxide tooth gel, “Ooh, why? Little sister make some enemies?”

Why couldn’t she just fucking agree?

“My job sometimes attracts crazies. I don’t tell them where I live but occasionally they figure it out. They’ve gotten violent before so…just don’t answer the buzzer. They’ll say they’re damn near anyone to get you to let them up.” You stopped the nervous twisting of your bag’s handle, “Boyfriend, boss, detective. They've tried it all.”

“Aww, sis. Look at you.” She leaned her full figure against the open door frame, arm raised up like a pin up. Ephi was always effortlessly enchanting when her mouth was closed. “Stalkers? Mama would be so proud. Finally learning how to catch a man’s attention.”

The tears that stung your eyes were inspired partly by anger and partly by pain. They came so suddenly you could only laugh in response.

“Lovely to see your new name hasn’t changed you, Ephi. I’ll be back occasionally. Don’t steal anything, no strangers over. Spare key is in the bowl by the door.”

“Oh hey!”

You turned back.

“I do need some cash. Until I find work.”

The numbness blanketed you with a chill.

“I’ve got like, three bucks. Is that fine?”

Why did you ask that? You knew she could very well say it wasn’t fine and you’d be obligated to offer to get more. Atleast, that’s what you’d have done when you were younger. How easily you both slipped into old roles. Or perhaps she never grew out of hers.

She mulled it over, “Yeah that’ll be fine.” Her hand came out and waited for the bills.

An open palm waiting for your money.

You pulled the folded bills from your wallet and set them in her hand without touching her skin.

“Thanks sis!” She turned and closed the door before you could reply.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The other dancers shot you a look when your bag jingled and clanked as it hit the floor, you wincing as you remembered the ceramic figurine.

“You…. going somewhere, hun? The detective got you on something?”

A quick shake of your head. You hadn’t considered the optics. Luckily it was early enough the room wasn’t very busy. A few select missing women would have pried for more information. Your hands fidgeted, unsure what to do. On the way in you saw some newer talent getting their feet on stage, maybe watch them? Too early for make up.

A loving voice from Ruth, always a savior, “Cigarette?”

You melted at the offer. Alastor wasn’t a fan of the smell so you were slyly cutting back.

She popped a sun bleached folding chair open and set it in between you both as a footrest. So many broken and ruined chairs littered the sides of the dingy roof, you were shocked she found a good one on her first try.

“Alright, tell me what happened with that detective. Do I need to go rough up a city employee?” Ruth leaned back and settled into her chair with a creak and a whine of the wood.

You needed a second, eyes flitting around as she handed her cigarette for you to take a drag. What could you say? What did she already know? You’d not spoken about it since she helped shoo him away but the appearance of half your belongings haphazardly stuffed into a bag clearly had her alarms going off.

“So remember the guy who came by for me? Tall handsome one.”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! Of course. Don’t forget a name like his. Or face.” She whistled like a crude man trying to get a woman’s attention in the most annoying way.

“The detective thinks he did something to Tommy. That he was jealous. Which is ridiculous-,” you felt a nervous energy slip down your arms.

An abrupt laugh, “That string bean couldn’t open a heavy window. He didn’t do shit to Tommy. What a stupid thing to say.”

Did she notice how much you’d been holding your breath? A deep sigh as you let it go. “Exactly! He doesn’t even know about what happened that night with that guy and Tommy’s arrangement; it’s too mortifying. Anyway, the detective has been hounding me about it. I don’t wanna cause trouble.” You ashed the cigarette and held it out for her, “Stuff is still new with him and me, so I didn’t tell the detective his details or work anything. Why would I? So he can harass him too?” The words all tumbled out so quickly. A faucet turned too far to the left.

“Fair.” A few passes back and forth in what you hoped was a comfortable silence and not an indication she was piecing together things you needed to remain unlinked. Finally, “Didn’t realize you two were still seeing each other. Longest one you’ve kept for awhile now.”

Looking up, you marveled at the view of the open sky. Not a cloud in sight. A smile crept across your face, the heat of the sun warming you from the inside out. The slightest chill to the air warning you of Fall. “Yeah.”

She asked what made him so special and you didn’t know where to start. “The obvious,” you began. “He’s so-,”

“Clever.” “Handsome.”

You’d spoken at the same time, her attempt at soothsaying failing miserably.

“Clever, Ruth. He’s very clever. Handsome men are a dime a dozen. But he’s sharp as a tack.” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand around for you to go on. You let your mind toss out the shiniest examples. “He’s so skilled. He knows how to hunt and take apart animals. He can fish. Cooks like a dream. He knows how to clean clothes well and how to use a washing board.”

“Useful.” She mused. That isn’t what you meant. You weren’t trying to list off his features like a new appliance. It was just— impressive. He was well rounded.

“And he’s terribly kind. He’s always,” how to say it delicately, “going out of his way to help others solve their problems.” That seemed accurate and vague enough. You chuckled to yourself, remembering him at the kitchen table, “His face lights up so bright when he’s talking about his hobbies. Like, I can see his soul glittering behind his eyes and suddenly I’m just as interested in whatever he’s talking about as he is.” You let your eyes close around the mental image of his surprised face every time you complimented him. But they shot open when she began giggling, “What?”

“You’re in looooove,” her foot kicked yours, “I know that look. Head over heels already. Talking about him like he made the fucking stars.”

Wide eyed and stunned, was it written on your face so plainly? “Oh don’t say that. It makes me so uncomfortable. We’re just enjoying each other's company.” When she moved to give you the cigarette again you didn’t take it. “All I was saying was—,” fuck, what were you saying? That he was special? “He’s a very nice person to spend my limited time with. It’s a finite resource and all.”

With a shrug she took another puff, “What’s to be uncomfortable about? Falling in love is a wonderful thing, hun.”

Was it? Honestly, had she ever considered how much damage came with loving someone? It was putting your heart outside your body. Letting someone else carry it around and just praying they didn’t hurt you, or get hurt, or go off and die and take your heart with them. Why would anyone willingly do such a silly thing?

“Cheesy. And kind of creepy. Falling? How do I get back up if things go south?”

You’d successfully avoided emotional attachment to nearly every lover you’d taken. The way women seemed to get struck down dumb by any old John or Jane just wasn’t appealing. Love was for fools. The weak. The dependent.

Or, so you had whispered to yourself as you pretended to not be home when suitors came knocking, as you avoided ringing phones, as you apologized and slid out of restaurant seats after awkward dinners.

“If you fall hard enough, you don’t get back up.” She said it like it was a good thing. “You’ll love them forever, even if you hate em.”

That was the problem, too. How could she not hear that as she said it? All loss of control of your own heart and emotions was simply bad. People do irrational things for love.

You shivered, “That sounds absolutely horrid, Ruth.”

“Aah,” she dismissed you with a raspberry blown between her lips, “For the right man, you’ll find yourself enjoying the trip down!”

“Nah, I’m not fan of heights. No dick is worth that.”

“Is that all men are to you? Sex?” She guffawed, taken aback by your comment. Which was odd, given it was Ruth.

But, Yes.

Well. No . But — he wasn't a man. He was something different. The exception to the rule. Alastor was different.

Or, fine.

Yes, he was a man.

No, you didn’t see them as just sex. It was easier to say people were just pleasure and not stop to think about life any other way. Things got complicated when you added another person. Life became sloppy and uncontainable. If you stopped and considered the lives behind the people you used to lead on and let go before things got too difficult, you’d just wound yourself. It was easier to stop at sex.

When you could. Which you could, before. When sex was a token you traded back and forth with someone. But Alastor didn’t accept that currency. You couldn’t hand him your body and get brief but lovely companionship back. Your value had to lie elsewhere, the things you set before him and the wonders he had to offer were much richer in their worth than what you’d ever had before.

Sometimes it felt like you slid him a penny and he handed you a quarter. You found yourself scrounging up the petty coins of your worth and trying to save them up for him. Practicing your makeup, learning how he liked his coffee, remembering all of the things he said he hated and loved. Attempting to stop smoking. Every act was another shiny offering for him.

A crow scrounging the park grounds for glittering trash. Not very swan-like, you thought.

“You really don’t think you’re falling for him?” Ruth put out the cigarette in the coffee can beside her. As you turned to argue with her you saw her face full of amusement and incredulousness. It was rhetorical.

The argument withered and you could only pout, everyone that day seeming to catch your tongue, “I don’t wanna think about it. I’ll get scared and run away. He’ll figure out how little I have to give eventually. If anything more is gonna happen, it’ll happen. I’ll just… let it. Why ruin it with… saying childish things.”

“You’re naive but that’s okay. Enjoy the honeymoon stage while you can.”

Your eyes rolled, “What if he doesn’t feel the same? Why embarrass myself.” When you sighed the weight of just how heavy and true that sentiment was resonated in your stomach. Telling him you were falling in love? Alastor was a killer. His passion was singular. What good was a dame to him? No, worse than worthless. A liability. A witness. A weak point in the walls he so carefully crafted. If he knew you were in love with him he’d just end things sooner than they would have naturally.

“Dontcha wanna know if he’s a waste of that precious time, then?”

You cackled, choking on your spit. Alastor? He was the most worthwhile thing you’d ever encountered. Time with him suddenly had …. Value. That fucking word again. But time with him, it was slow enough to be deep and rich, but so fleeting you already felt a mourning mood for how much closer you were to the end.

You could only shake your head, “Wait, Ruth, didn’t you get divorced?”

“Shhh that doesn’t count!” She rose and stretched her long arms up to the sun and then out to the horizon, “Plus that’s how I know what I’m talking about! After the honeymoon phase? You’ll be arguing about laundry and wishing you were strangers again. Fighting about children and lawncare.”

As your finger nervously came to your mouth, teeth cutting into the nail, you considered how if Alastor complained about laundry and you could argue back with the comfort of knowing neither would simply leave, that’d be….nice. The safety of being honest without the fear of the other person giving up on you. Was that love?

And did that matter at all?

You’d thought earlier you knew the answers but now, when someone else said it, you got scared of those words.

Ruth must have put a spell on you. As you and a bevy of others danced in line on stage, arms over shoulders and legs kicking high enough to show cheek and jiggle the soft skin of your thighs and stomach, you felt butterflies in your gut. Alastor would be picking you up in a matter of hours.

A few men sent you drinks, which you repaid with a wink and a kiss blown across the bar before downing the liquor. It was the usual routine. You hadn’t felt nerves to see Alastor quite like that since sheepishly picking out “comfortable” shoes.

Alastor’s eyes widened when he took the bag from you, not noticing your attempts to avoid making eye contact. He let out a chuckle, his best attempt at stifling the joking question, “Already moving in?”

He realized quickly enough that wasn’t a good joke. Not when he finally looked up and saw your stare was distant.

“Everything okay, dear?” He walked to open your door for you, and you nodded a thank you and an affirmative.

Should you rip off the band aid? Should you just say it and see what happens?

When you turned to look at him and blurt out a confession, you were stopped by the profile of his face. What a gentle face. A lovely jaw. Even his bones were better than other people’s. What were you doing in this man’s car? What little pieces of glittering trash were you about to toss at him on a random Friday night?

No, in the books you read, confessions were always grande affairs. Fireworks and dinner parties and passionate kisses in rain storms.

You’d have to put a little effort into this. His brows rose as he clocked your staring. Eyes on the road, smirk pulled to the right, his hand came to rest on your thigh.

He deserved something much better than whatever you had to offer. Something unlike yourself entirely.

The drive home, and yes you let yourself linger on the word instead of shoo it away, you watched a deer jump across the dirt road just past the bridge.

“The bucks chase the does. It’s part of their mating ritual. I guess it’s not unlike the ‘playing hard to get’ some women like. The longer the chase, the prouder the buck to snag his prize.”

You laughed, “Women don’t like it, I don’t think. Well, some do I am sure but… If we don’t do that then people think we’re easy. We need plausible deniability. If people learn we put out we can claim we didn’t really want to and save some face.”

Alastor grimaced, “Gross.”

Unseen, you nodded and turned to watch the buck leap after its doe.

“Kind of funny, you chased me down, didn’t you?” Alastor’s comment pulled you back to him.

“Oh yes. That makes you my doe.” Your arm came to rest against the car door, the trees slowly rolling by in the darkness. “Reminds me of the small freckles across your shoulders.”

“My mighty buck!” He fawned, in jest, pretending to collapse into your lap. You shoved him back up and behind the wheel proper. “Well given the chance, I’d chase you for miles.” His hand flexed on your leg.

“To Texas?” You asked. Your usual end point.

“Further.”

“How far?”

“There is no limit. I’d … run right off a cliff, head first, if you were waiting at the bottom.” He took his hand back, needing both to hold the wheel. What he said hit him harder than he had intended. Was it too much? A tad too dramatic? A nervous clearing of his throat, followed by an awkward laugh to put more space between him and the confession.

The idea of you making Alastor chase you was ridiculous. You enjoyed the games you played with others, but you were never meant to be caught. If you wanted that, you’d just…give yourself. As you had done with him. Only him. The first and last person you ever wanted to give yourself over to in any sense. “And if I just… lied down and let you catch me? Would that make me a poorly earned prize?”

“Nope! That’d make me a lucky duck. And make you quite smart, if I do say so myself.” A wink. “Why run from such a catch like me?”

You landed a smack on his arm, light and playful.

A truly comfortable silence settled in, just the sound of the car trembling over the rough road. The newest model Ford was still as loud as the last, but luckily you were far from others.

The words had lingered like smoke, and you felt the need to address them.

“Don’t actually do that though. If I run off a cliff or something stupid, don’t you dare follow me.”

Alastor just laughed, wasn’t that what you were doing for him already? Diving into hell for some inexplicable reason after Alastor. He wasn’t expressing some lack of self preservation, he was merely letting you know he’d reciprocate the fall. You hadn’t made him run after you, but instead seemed to just….rest your neck between his canines. And trust.

If you were to go to heaven, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. It was too late to redeem his soul now. How far was heaven from hell, anyways? If the devil survived the plummet perhaps he could scale the walls of his enclosure and breach the gates.

Though, as he thought about the idea of heaven, he considered how happy his mother would be to meet you. To take you from her would be as cruel as heaven taking you from him.

Maybe he could make a plea. To just be able to see you from below.

But if the knowledge you were happy and safe was all he had, he’d be a richer man in hell than he’d ever been on earth. It’d be enough.

He’d just need to broadcast his radio waves a little further for your listening pleasure.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #human alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #fanfiction #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x you

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dqrciedaily · 5 months

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baby arsenal headcannons, arsenal wfc x teen!reader

a/n: i am so so so sorry that this isn’t an actual fic but i’ve left yous without anything for like two weeks so take this 🥰🥰🥰

warning - this isn’t proofread so pls ignore any mistakes x

1. she is maths no.1 public enemy - literally will stare at her homework for two hours instead of actually trying it. then the next day at school she gets in trouble for not doing it but she genuinely couldn’t care less because she’d rather have them email lia than try do trigonometry

2. her tiktok reposts and twitter likes have fans speculating like there is no tomorrow - she’s definitely liked transfer rumours on twitter before as well as reposting things she shouldn’t be and she reposts things that happened way back way but people think it’s about her current situation, leading to some very concerned fans in her tiktok comments and instagram requests.

3. baby girl has stina and laura wrapped around her finger - she’s cold? stina’s gonna give her the jumper she’s wearing. she’s hungry? laura’s up to make her something to eat, even though maus is perfectly capable of doing it herself. they’re basically on her beck and call.

4. she always curses out players in german on the pitch - when she was younger her brothers taught her the art of cursing people out in german then speaking in english to confuse them. however this did not work when arsenal played chelsea and she went flying after a tackle from nüsken, who very obviously understands german, leading to maus getting a yellow.

5. which leads to the next point which is that she gets her fair share of yellows - giving katie a run for her money, although most of hers come from back chatting the ref and not from actual gameplay, although she isn’t afraid to put in a heavy tackle here and there.

6. her + kyra = little shits on steroids - on the first media day of the season they decided to put y/n and kyra in three of the same interviews, let’s just say absolutely nothing productive happened until caitlin had to come in to do an interview with the two of them.

7. she’s lia’s no.1 reason for her early gray hairs - firstly maus is awful at answering phone calls, so if she’s out with her friends and lia needs something best believe she cannot contact her. secondly the amount of emails the school sends her may send lia into overdrive, she genuinely couldn’t care less if y/n didn’t do her homework as long as she’s passing all her classes, which she is (besides math but lia doesn’t need to know that.)

8. y/n has the best outfits - her instagram feed is filled with mirror pics of her outfits and they’re all just so good!!! she’s known for her fashionable clothes throughout the woso community.

9. she gets really really really nervous when doing interviews by herself - she already refuses to do orals in school because they stress her out too much, so after her first full 90 for arsenal she gets called to do an interview and poor girl is swaying from side to side the entire time, stumbling over her words and overall looking like a deer caught in headlights.

10. the first time she brings a girl or boy home lia gets a group of the girls to pretend they’re over for dinner without telling y/n - so then when y/n gets home she sees most of her teammates there and very hastily shoves her ‘friend’ upstairs, before going over to the girls who all tease her. then when she’s upstairs in her room with her ‘friend’ they all take turns coming upstairs to walk past the closed door to hear what they’re talking about.

11. she is a hugger of note - the first time she meant all the girls minus her shy demeanour she hugged every single teammate she met. she is also a massive cuddler, on the team bus she makes ours sit in the window seat (much to the brunettes complains) then uses kyra as a pillow which 1. forces kyra to be quiet because she doesn’t want to wake y/n and 2. she can’t move around the bus as she wants deciding to annoy everyone which the other girls are very thankful for.

12. her first crush on a girl was laura freigang, who she had seen around the german youth camps before - she even told her parents at one stage that she was going to go to penn state just like lau did but that phase was short lived when she then developed a crush on one of her teammates in her age group instead.

13. in another life she’s a dj who lives in ibiza - literally no explanation needed, she truly is a party animal at heart and would go to all the festivals and raves possible during the off season.

#darcie’s drabbles #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc x reader

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ebonyslasher · 4 months

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Hello! May I request a black noir x supe!reader where the reader is secretly apart of The Boys. Also maybe where the reader manages to get black noir to safely before Homelander can come and kill him? Maybe the reader finds out from hugie (pretty sure he was there when solder boy told Homelander he was his dad?? Don’t really remeber though) that Homelander found out that solder boy is his dad and probably going after black noir? Please and thanks!

Hey! I made up the supe powers for this specific situation since you didn't specify.

Span is from a couple of months before season four to after.

The Almost Last Moment

After years of trying and IVF treatments, you future mother finally got pregnant. During early first trimester, your parents selfishly allowed doctors to inject compound V in fetus that formed into you. You were born their literal miracle baby. However, the only power that was apparent was your slight super strength when you were a toddler. Hoping for much more, they were disappointed.

As you grew, your true powers developed. The most exciting power that your parents were actually proud of was your portal making. Admittedly, it was fun jumping to and from anywhere in the world. Especially when you got some birthday money. What 10 year old wouldn't transport themselves to the candy store?

Another ability that you had was tying your aura to another. How they felt, what they felt, and why they felt would flow into the channel that you picked at. You could form the channel with anyone, but it was strongest with emotional attachment. However, if someone felt emotions strong enough, you didn't need a connection to feel them. Your parents didn't care too much about that one, but you thought it was useful.

The idea of being a supe was entertained for about 3 months out of your entire life. Your parents, although not sincerely encouraging, wanted the taste of fame and auditioned you for...well you didn't really know. All you did know what that your powers weren't "popular" aka not profitable enough to be on the forefront. Forget about being a part of The Seven. They offered some ads since you were pretty, but you declined. It didn't feel right, the commercialization of heroes.

Your parents were disappointed in your decision. Their standoffish behavior after pissed you off. If being a hero was just brand deals and politics, then they could do it themselves, since they wanted it so badly. Distancing yourself from them as an adult, you decide to stay low, attempting to live a normal life. The disappointment you had in other "heroes" furthered after observing the way they treated non-supes. So, it was no surprise that you joined The Boys after seeing a supe kill someone just to heighten their coke high.

The little rag-tag group had some interesting characters. What was very interesting was the allies they had within The Seven: Starlight and Mauve. The latter you had briefly met, along with A-Train, at your audition years ago.

Although The Boys represented powerful and much needed justice for non-supes, the work and aura was quite overwhelming. Needing an escape, you began volunteering at animal shelters in your free time. It made you feel good and wholesome, and gave you some much needed space.

This is where you, surprisingly, caught Black Noir's attention. He would go to the shelters to volunteer himself. It looked good for his image and he got to see cute animals. Black Noir noticed you coming in frequently and he became enthralled with your beauty and compassion. Every time you were there, he was there watching from afar. He came up to you one day and stared you down before lightly petting the bunny in your hand. It was...quite awkward to say the least. Him silently doing this and then abruptly leaving.

A nearby worker made an off hand comment that he comes in every week to spend time with the animals, sometimes showing them to children. How sweet. The next time you saw him, you approached, butterflies forming in your stomach. A beautiful relationship blossomed from there.

Although The Boys and The Seven's relationships was in hell, your relationship with Black Noir was heaven. God, he was perfect. Black Noir was such a gentleman. So polite, sweet, and dorky. His awkward habits were downright adorable. It pained you to keep your tie to The Boys a secret. It was apparent how loyal Black Noir was to Vought. You wished he wasn't so loyal to them. It'd make your job a whole lot easier with taking Homelander down.

As the relationship grew deeper, you couldn't help but blend your aura with his. This man is so damn stable. He would flicker through many emotions, like all humans did, but dealt with them head on. He was never afraid to feel things through. You were a bit jealous, but pleased he was emotionally healthy.

His stability was pretty consistent until you felt a sharp pang of paranoia, fear, and dulled pain one day. It shocked you into worry, immediately calling him. He never picked up. You continuously call and to no avail. This feeling of your own panic swept your legs to look for him, but...you couldn't find him. You tried your best to tap into the aura to locate him but the anxiety and paranoia severely dented your focus.

Not long later, Hughie and Butcher continued their escapades with Soldier Boy in hopes of finding his old teammates. You jumped up at the opportunity to join, stating that you'd be useful with your portal ability. Thankfully, they allowed it. It was during the fight with Windstorm when you felt a stronger pulse from the connection. You silently wandered off, using a portal to his location.

You find him, coming out of an abandoned building. Before you could call out, he leaves with quick determination. You try to catch up, deciding to silently follow him. Some time later, he walked right into Vought. Damn. You couldn't just walk right in. And you needed to get back to Butcher.

Your portal led your way back to the team just in time. You used your powers to help Soldier Boy kill his old teammate. Hughie turns to you with a questioning look but you trudge forward so he wouldn't ask anything.

It's an hour or so later when you decide to break into Vought using a portal. You stepped through, tapping into the connection to see how Black Noir felt. He was hopeful, happy, and focused with an underlying thrum of worry. Your shoulders relaxed as you finished stepping through the portal, into the hallway near a conference room. You see some movement and decide to peer around the corner. It was Black Noir and Homelander.

Homelander was speaking to him, going on about how he was able to see through the mask Black Noir had. How he knew what emotions Black Noir was feeling and what he looked like. As he started to speak about him having a father, you could feel some odd emotion welling up in the atmosphere. It wasn't coming from Noir, as you quickly tapped to check. It was coming from Homelander. The feeling was strong, with the air of slight sadness and animosity building quickly as he approached Black Noir. Homelander grabs onto Black Noirs' neck gently and asks,

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He makes this weird grimace and those intense emotions move onto new heights. You knew something bad was going to happen. You start to move when you see Homelanders' free arm move back. Quickly, you create a small portal. Homelander's hand goes through to portal instead of Black Noir.

Black Noir quickly looks at you and you book it towards him. With all the strength you could muster, you kick Homelander back. Putting yourself between the two, you create a portal behind Black Noir. You propel yourself back, bringing Noir with you as you both fell into the portal. You quickly close it as soon as Homelander almost flies through.

You're a mess of pants before you turn to Black Noir. He looked to be in a state on disbelief. You grabbed his hand, squeezing tightly. Breathlessly you said, "Just in time...Earving."

#black reader #black noir #black noir x reader #homelander #the boys

351 notes · View notes

noxturnalpascal · 10 months

Text

Dancing is a Dangerous Game

(FrankieMorales x F!Stripper!Reader)

A/N & Warnings: Sexual Content below - 18+ only, Frankie doing what he do (iykyk), unspecified age gap (anywhere from 10-15 yrs), talk of stripping/dancing as a job that pays the bills. The photos on the Moodboard are just for fun, the female Reader is not specifically physically described so you can imagine her however you want. Thank you to @saradika for the divider.

Did I make this prompt up myself for me and some fellow writers? Yes. Did I set the word count limit? Also Yes. Did I stick anywhere even close to that limit? *laughs hysterically.

PROMPT: Pick a Pedge Daddy character - Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Dave York, etc. (it can be Canon or Non-Canon/AU/No Outbreak).

PPCU Daddy is surprised - and excited - to learn that the grad/postgrad student he hires to watch his child sometimes also works as a: stripper/dancer/cam-girl/onlyfans-model/dating-or-escort-service (or straight-up SW)

*1000 word Minimum - 2000 word Maximum

WC: 4749 (I have a problem)

Frankie’s mouth was hanging open. He knew he should close it. He knew he looked like a weirdo. He knew he was about to get a “Catfish, lookin’ like a fish” joke from his friends. But for the life of him he couldn’t take his eyes off the stage, or close his gaping jaw.

Not since his babysitter walked on stage and started taking her clothes off.

To be fair, you're not his babysitter anymore. Not since he called you three weeks ago asking if you could babysit for him tonight and you broke the news to him that you'd gotten a new job and couldn't babysit anymore. At least now he understands why you left the not-so-lucrative world of babysitting for an arguably better-paying gig.

You've only been dancing for two minutes and he already sees more money on the stage than he would've paid you to sit his kid tonight. He’s been watching as you undulate your body across the stage, bending and dipping, stripping down to your underwear. Even though part of him thinks he should, he definitely doesn’t look away when you divest yourself of your lacy little bra.

He always thought you were hot. He was a newly-single dad, interviewing you for a semi-regular babysitting gig. He tried to focus on your resume and your qualifications. He tried to breathe through his mouth so he couldn’t smell your delicate perfume. He tried to ignore the dewy pink lipgloss you had spread across your mouth, which is in stark contrast to the bright red lipstick you are currently sporting.

He was very motivated by the fact that you, as a graduate student in your mid-20’s, seemed more responsible to leave his kid with than the other applicants to his babysitting ad, all of whom were literal teenagers. But truth be told - you were also really fucking hot. Horny dad and the hot babysitter, what a fucking cliche he was.

However, in the eleven months you babysat for him, he never acted on his inappropriate attraction to you. He never treated you as anything other than an employee. You’d show up to his house, hair in a messy bun, wearing comfy clothes, ready to sit on the living room floor all evening playing with his kid. He was polite, and respectful, and was almost positive you never caught him staring at your tits.

Your tits that he’s most definitely staring at right now. Holy shit you have great tits.

“Fuckin’ A Fish, if you’re gonna keep your mouth open, you could at least pour some beer into it.”

“Huh?” Frankie snaps his head back to the table he’s sat at, surrounded by his friends. They all chuckle.

“We’re about to order the next round and you didn’t even drink any of that one yet,” Benny says as he points to the dripping bottle in Frankie’s hand.

Oh, sorry, Frankie mumbles as he pushes the now-warm bottle to his lips and begins to drink the beer down, his eyes moving back to the stage. The entire club is lit only by colored lights that coordinate with the twirling lights and lasers pointed at the stage, pulsating to the tempo of the music you’ve picked. Fog rolls across the floor of the stage, cascading over the edge.

There’s a single golden pole at an outcropping of the stage that you’re now gripping with both hands, sticking your ass out towards the audience and giving it a wiggle. You let go of the pole and hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties. You slowly begin to push them down and just as the crack of your ass comes into view Frankie momentarily forgets that he can’t swallow liquid and breathe at the same time.

He begins to sputter and cough, choking on the bubbly liquid and spurting it across the table onto the faces of half of his friends. He’s met with groans, curses, and several swats to the back of his head as he attempts to get his wheezing under control, and the fluid out of his trachea.

Santi, who somehow managed to avoid Frankie’s beer-foam projectile, slaps a palm on Frankie’s shoulder and says,

“Guys, Frankie’s real sorry, he’s just never seen a naked woman before.”

The laughter at Frankie’s expense serves as some form of forgiveness, and everyone slowly goes back to flirting with the wandering dancers and ordering their second round. Santi keeps his hand on Frankie’s shoulder and leans into Frankie’s personal space.

“You alright?” Santi asks, squeezing his friend’s shoulder firmly.

Frankie manages to mutter a strangled yeah before several rounds of trying to clear his throat. The lights have dimmed, sinking the club temporarily into a hazy darkness. He briefly registers that the song you were dancing to has ended, so you’ve most likely left the stage.

Santi laughs, shaking his head. He moves his mouth right to Frankie’s ear, almost whispering.

“When I convinced Will to have his bachelor party at this club I thought you’d be the one making your hot babysitter choke, not the other way around,” and he claps Frankie on the back hard, “if you know what I mean.”

Frankie’s eyes go wide as he meets Santi’s crooked grin, but his friend offers nothing more as he moves to the other side of the table, turning his devilish smile on the waitress. He orders two beers and three shots for each man, dismissing the groans of protest from the table. Bachelor Down!, he shouts at Will as everyone does their shots and chases them with cheap beer.

You approach the table full of men with seven other dancers, each of you assigned by the club to give a 20-minute private dance to one of the members of the bachelor party. You’re each in various states of dress, but most are only half-dressed. You’re back in your lacy underwear set - panties and bra - but the sheer nature of the fabric leaves little to the imagination.

Your previous job as a part-time nanny worked while you were an undergrad. When you started law school it became too much and you had to switch to more infrequent evening babysitting gigs so you had your days free for school and studying. Unable to keep up with school payments you recently had to find something new. Something that only required night and weekend availability, but paid really well.

Enter: Stripping.

You’ve only been doing this job for a little over a month but you’d quickly gotten very comfortable with being naked in front of strangers. You had your little dance routine and could easily make flirty banter with the club’s customers. Your boss was impressed enough that he’d started assigning you party gigs with some of the other girls, like this bachelor group.

You walk up to the group of strangers, the rest of the girls fan around the table as you’re left standing just behind a broad-shouldered man with a baseball cap on, curls sticking out from under the back strap. You turn to the man with a big smile on your face.

Holy Fuck.

Not a Stranger.

It’s Francisco Morales. The hot dad you until-recently babysat for.

He looks at you sheepishly. Your hands immediately fly to cover your breasts, suddenly mortified that your nipples are showing through your nearly-transparent choice of outfit.

“Mr. Morales!”

“Oh I- I already,” he begins to stutter. Is he telling you that he’s already seen your tits?

You look around at the collection of empty beer bottles and shot glasses on the table and figure that they’ve all been here for much longer than just your dance. So covering your nipples does nothing for your modesty as hot dad has probably already seen everything. You drop your arms to your side, attempting to look relaxed and casual.

“So I-uh. I guess you found a babysitter for tonight.”

He laughs. He actually laughs at your awkward attempt at diffusing the tension. Thank god. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can say anything one of his friends is speaking to the group. He explains that “everyone gets a private dance” and no one can object - and he looks right at Mr. Morales when he says this - because “it’s all been paid for already.”

Following the lead of the other girls you gently grab Mr. Morales’ hand, missing the looks back and forth between him and his friend. You do your best to confidently lead him back to the private rooms with the rest of his group. There are a dozen rooms in the hallway and eight of them have been held in reserve for this bachelor party group. Pulling him inside the last room on the right, you close the door behind you.

The room is dim, save for the red glow of the lights. The ceiling and floor are both painted black and the three walls without the door are mirrored. Towards the left is a single high-backed black leather chair facing a brass pole that sits in the exact center of the room. On the far side of the room is a curved loveseat against the wall.

This should be easy. Not just because this is your job but because unlike any other man you’ve ever led back here, this is a man you are extremely attracted to.

This is a man you have fantasized about.

You’ve imagined his curls between your fingers when you’ve grabbed a fistful of a customer's hair, imagined that it’s his stubble scratching between your breasts when you’ve pressed them close. You’ve envisioned his wide chest as you ran your hands down their front, his massive paws in your hands as you’ve taken their sweaty palms and placed them on your rolling hips.

You’ve wished they were his thighs that you were grinding your ass onto and his erection that you all-too-frequently felt pressing into you. That should make this easy. But instead you’re super fucking nervous. Even more nervous than your first night here, when you dragged your panties down your legs and bent over, exposing your pussy lips to a packed room of strangers.

What makes you most nervous is probably that the fantasies didn’t stop in the club. It would be one thing if they were just here, serving as a comfort, self-soothing by putting a familiar face in place of a groping stranger’s face. But that’s not the truth. You’ve imagined him at home too.

In the shower, pretending your hands were his hands as you pinched and plucked at your wet nipples. Daydreaming about his weight on top of you, fucking into you, as you drove one of your toys in and out of your wet cunt.

And if you’re being perfectly honest, you can admit that it’s been going on for almost a year, since shortly after he hired you to be his babysitter. Remembering the times you’d made yourself come on his couch, hours after his kid had fallen asleep, waiting for him to return home from a night out with his friends. Your hand stuffed down the front of your pants, petting your clit to the thought of him on his knees in front of you.

You never thought you’d actually be naked in front of your fantasy-DILF. This is like being slapped in the face with your own wet dreams. This is kind of a nightmare.

“Listen, you don’t have to-” he begins just as you start to speak as well.

“Mr. Morales I know-” and you both stop and let out breathy, nervous laughs.

“C-Can you please stop calling me Mr. Morales?”

“Oh sorry! Is that weird?”

“It sounds like the start of a bad porno,” he groans, laughing again. “Please just call me Frankie.”

“Of course, I’m so sorry Mist- Frankie. Sorry. Frankie.”

You both break out in laughter again, loudly this time, hoping to finally diffuse some of the tension. A knock sounds at the door and a deep voice - security - asks if everything is alright. You shout back that everything is fine and the room quiets down.

“I should start the music and get going,” you say quietly, motioning for him to sit on the curved red velvet seat against the far wall.

You press a button above his head and music starts up, the first of three songs forming a 10-minute loop that will repeat for this booking. You look into the mirrored wall to your left and notice how nervous you look. Then you meet his eyes in the mirror. Why does he look just as nervous?

You straddle one of his legs and shakily reach back to undo the clasp on your bra. You meet his eyes again. Fuck he can see how your hands are shaking. You look like such a fucking kid. A goddamn amateur. This is going to be the least-sexy lapdance he’s ever been given.

You can’t stop the gasp that leaves your lips when you suddenly feel his hot hands covering yours at your back.

“You can leave this on if you’d be more comfortable,” he says softly, barely heard over the pumping bass of the music.

“No I’m fine, I’m just…” you don’t know how to explain to him without embarrassing yourself but suddenly you’re making an admission and the word-vomit has left your mouth before you can even do anything to stop it. “I just always thought you were hot.”

There it is. It’s out there now.

He opens his mouth to say something and your nerves bubble up and come out as more words and why the fuck are you talking more?

“I know, I know,” you spit out before he can get a word in, “the babysitter thirsting after the hot dad, how prosaic, right? Talk about a bad porno.”

His warm hands still touching you, he slowly moves his fingers around yours, deftly undoing the clasp of your bra for you.

“It’s okay, I kinda… thought you were hot too,” his admission slips out in a whisper.

You really want to kiss him right now. But that would be a very bad idea. Security patrols the hallway and the door has a small window towards the top of it. It allows security to peek inside and see from the shoulders up. Usually if they can see your shoulders, all is good. If they can’t see your shoulders, it gives them an idea if rules are being broken or if the girls need help.

Kissing - among other things - is against the rules.

You barely turn to look at the windowed door but you’re embarrassed to think that Frankie must know what you’re thinking because it’s like he can read your mind. Or maybe he’s just thinking about kissing you too? Either way he puts his hands back down to his sides and lets you lean into him, allowing your bra to slowly shift down your shoulders until it falls into his lap.

Your tits are right in his face. You’re half naked in front of the hot dad whose child you used to babysit. The hot dad who you’ve pictured doing this exact thing with - and more. But he’s not even looking at your tits. He’s looking you right in your eyes and making you feel more naked than you’ve ever been in your whole life.

He shouldn’t be here, not doing this, not with you. He should ask for a different girl. He should tell the security guy to kick him out. He’s making you so uncomfortable, he can tell by your twitching movements and halting breaths. He can’t stop staring at you like he’s some kind of lonely creep, what a fucking weirdo he’s being.

You position your legs on the outside of his, keeping his legs slightly open and his hands obediently face-down on the couch next to him. You’re straddling him but hovering above his lap, seemingly careful not to touch him. When you put your hands on his shoulders to brace yourself you begin to stiffly roll your body towards and then away from him.

He doesn’t know where to look. He can’t keep looking at your face, he knows the eye-contact is getting very disturbing. Why the hell did he tell you he kinda thought you were hot too? At least he didn’t admit the truth, that he thought you were fucking supernova-hot. He’s had to bite his tongue countless times to stop from asking you out.

He focuses his eyes at the hollow dip that lies at the base of your throat. It has a dance of its own, moving slightly with your pulse and rolling with your shallow breaths, the rise and fall of your chest a baseline rhythm. He tries not to think about your bare breasts just below, breasts that he’s thought about putting his hands on every single time you’ve walked into his house for the last year.

He can see your deep red lips in his peripheral vision, and immediately the image of those lips on his skin is conjured. He pictures a chaste kiss planted on his cheek followed by a less-chaste thought of his thumb pressed into your mouth, your eyes looking up at him while your lips leave a red ring on his hand. He needs to fucking calm down. This is just a dance. You’re at work doing your literal job.

He suddenly notices you’ve almost completely stopped moving. He looks up at your face and you’re wearing a tight, pained expression. His brows furrow. Oh no. What’s wrong? Is his erection noticable? Is he creeping you out too badly? Do you want him to leave? He opens his mouth to ask if you’re okay but you silence him with a gentle squeeze to his shoulders.

“I think I’m gonna die if you don’t touch me,” you squeak out in a strained whisper.

In the back of his head a part of him thinks that he shouldn’t immediately cave. It shouldn’t be this easy. Part of him thinks he should need more than just you saying that.

But he doesn’t. At all.

He slowly slides his body down the sofa, pushing his frame between your legs. You move your feet apart to accommodate his wide shoulders once you realize he won’t fit otherwise. He stops when his ass is sitting on the floor and his head is just above the seat of the sofa, you towering over him. He reaches down and begins to take off your platform heels one at a time.

As your bare feet hit the floor you run your hands up your neck, over your face, and through your hair, your knees knocking at his shoulders. Touching you gently with only two fingers on each hand, he pushes on the backs of your thighs, guiding you even closer to his face. He grabs your feet and holds them in his hands, forcing your legs to fold and pushing your knees past his ears as his head rests back on the seat.

You’re kneeling at the edge of the sofa, shins on the cushion, feet dangling over his shoulders, your toes curled in his massive hands on his chest, and his head between your thighs. Your face still looks uneasy, and he can just make out whining noises over the music. High-pitched and breathy, the way a dog would beg for scraps at the dinner table.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna touch you now,” he growls.

You grab the brim of his hat and twist it off his head, immediately diving your fingers into his locks. He squeezes your toes and you take his cue, lifting your hips and canting them towards his waiting mouth. Latching his mouth onto your underwear, he runs his tongue up and down your covered seam.

He feels you begin to rock your hips into his face, rolling your body above him. Any security who looked in the window would see your shoulders moving to the beat and assume you were kneeling on the couch and giving a lap dance. He can only barely see you from his angle, sees the lace of your panties, sees your wrists grabbing at his hair.

Letting go of one of your feet, he grabs at your wrist, dragging your hand from his head to the front of your own underwear. You run your fingers down yourself, parting them around his mouth, letting his tongue tangle in them. Then you grab the edge of the gusset and pull it to the side.

Wasting no time, he immediately begins to lick at your folds, tasting the wetness that has gathered there. A lot of wetness. Christ, you’re so fucking wet. His nose touches just below your clit and a string of your arousal attaches him to you when he pulls back slightly.

A slight pause in the music has his heart stop and his stomach in his throat. After a couple seconds - that seem to stretch on forever - the first song begins playing again, restarting what must be a looped set of music.

That must mean this private dance-time is halfway over. Ten minutes left but since you two probably started after everyone else you might not have the full ten minutes of privacy if his friends decide to burst in the door. Which, if they’re led by Santi, is a real possibility.

Less than ten minutes. No problem.

You must also feel the sense of urgency because you adjust your hand that is holding your panties to the side. You take your thumb and pointer finger and move them over yourself, parting your lips to open yourself more to him and pulling up slightly, exposing your nub. He flattens his tongue in response and drags it over your sensitive bundle, noting the way your body trembles when he does so.

He knows he doesn’t have the time to edge you as he’d like to, but he can’t help himself when he moves his head lower and twists his tongue into your hole, thrusting it into you. You are bouncing yourself slightly up and down, helping him fuck yourself on his tongue. He feels your wetness pouring over his lips and dripping down through his whiskers.

He feels your hand leave your own body and tangle back in his curls along with your other one, grabbing two fistfuls of hair tightly in your grip. Having had enough of his teasing you’re apparently deciding to take matters into your own hands.

Frankie loves eating pussy but this? This might be his favorite thing in the whole world.

He angles his head perfectly, opens his mouth, and sticks his tongue out stiffly as you begin to grind your pussy against his face. You’re using his nose, his tongue, his chin, even the bristles of his facial hair. You’re using whatever you can to get yourself off as you ride his face. It takes everything in his power not to break out in a giant smile.

He doesn’t hear you, you’re still being the quietest you’ve been since you got in this room, but he feels it. Shit, does he ever feel it. He feels your body tense, then your legs quiver, feels the pulsing in your cunt as you press yourself firm into his still-open mouth. He gently laps up your gushing orgasm as you release the grip on his hair and whimper softly above him.

Knowing you’re short on time, he has you climb off him much sooner than he’d like you to. Your heavy-lidded eyes meet his and then yours go wide. You bend down and grab his hat, plopping it back on his head and attempting to tame his just-fucked-hair back underneath it. You run to the corner of the room and grab a small robe hanging on a hook, skipping back over and roughly wiping his face off with it the way you would a toddler after a meal.

He quickly adjusts himself, tucking his protruding hardness under his belt in an attempt to conceal it as he watches you adjust your askew panties. Still topless, you throw the robe back towards the corner in a panic just as there is a quick knock at the door. Without a signal to enter the door flies open anyways, no less than three of his friends bursting through the doorway drunkenly, shots in hand for Frankie to partake in.

They make Frankie drink the shots before he even leaves the room and then they drag him away from you, hollering obnoxiously. All he can manage is an apologetic look over his shoulder as he hears the final song finally come to an end. Time’s up. Luckily you’re laughing at their antics and don’t seem to be upset. Maybe you were just flirting with him because that’s your job. Maybe you just wanted a good tip.

A tip! Shit.

Being dragged down the hallway Frankie grabs Santi by the arm and asks in his ear how much he should tip you. Santi says he usually tips $200. Frankie is shocked that a 20 minute dance would garner that big of a tip, but then again it’s been a long time since he’s been at a place like this. And to be fair, you - albeit unknowingly - let him fulfill a long-time fantasy of his.

$200 is more than he would have paid you to watch his kid tonight. No wonder you’re not his babysitter anymore. He fishes around in his wallet and takes out all the cash he has, $236. He manages to break off from the group of guys after they do another couple shots and he looks around for you.

Unable to find you he spots one of the girls you came to the table with and she lets him know you’re on a break but she can get the tip to you. He hands her the folded bills and she thanks him by leaning in and giving him a peck on the cheek. When she pulls back from him she widens her eyes at him and flashes him a knowing smile.

“I’m sure she’s very appreciative… of the tip,” she winks.

Frankie tries not to blush and resists the urge to high-tail it to the bathroom and wash his face off, opting instead to keep the scent of you on him. He returns to the table of his too-drunk-to-notice friends and finishes out the night of revelry.

3:03am

Hey

3:06am

Sorry

3:09am

You’re probably asleep

3:10am

I’m just getting home actually

3:11am

Oh cool me too

Sorry to bother

I just wanted to make sure you got your tip

I left it with your friend

3:14am

I did, yes. Thank you so much.

3:14am

Cool 👍

3:16am

Don’t take this the wrong way…

But how drunk were you tonight?

3:18am

Idk

Why?

What did I do?

I’m so sorry

3:19am

No, don’t be sorry!

I’m not trying to be rude.

I just….

Did you mean to tip me that amount?

3:25am

Oh my god

Was it not enough?

I can give you more

I’m really sorry

Do you have Venmo?

3:27am

No! OMG. It was plenty!

Literally the most I’ve ever been tipped is like 40%

You tipped me 118%

3:30am

3:31am

Yeah so I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get too drunk

And accidentally just give me everything in your wallet

3:35am

Is that what happened?

3:37am

Because I can Venmo some money back to you

It’s really not a problem

3:40am

Sorry no

I just tipped what my friend told me to

3:41am

Well I checked with the other girls….

NONE of your friends tipped that much

And they were all very generous!

3:44am

But none as generous as you

3:45am

He’s such an asshole

I’m sorry

I didn’t know

I feel like an idiot

3:46am

Again, please don’t be sorry

It was VERY generous of you

And I’m very grateful

3:50am

I was in a giving mood tonight I suppose

3:51am

Mr. Morales, is that you being flirty?

3:53am

Oh we’re back to Mr. Morales now?

3:55am

Can you get a babysitter on Wednesday night?

3:55am

I don’t have custody this week so no babysitter needed

Why?

3:56am

We should go out to dinner

3:57am

Oh we should?

3:59am

Yeah we should

Frankie

4:01am

MY treat

4:01am

LOL I should hope so!

4:02am

Pick me up at 7 😉

4:02am

I will

See you Wednesday

#frankie morales x reader #frankie x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #writing prompt

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redbatchedcumbermayned · 4 months

Text

It all started under a duvet held up by an oar

Not so long ago I emailed Chris Tester, the voice of Heinrix van Calox in Owlcat’s recently released CRPG Rogue Trader, and asked if he would like to sit for an interview with me. Having some experience in interviewing people I like, most famously Oscar winner and all-around sweetheart Eddie Redmayne, this was not a completely nerve-wracking endeavour. And within a day of sending my email, Chris said yes. And what a pleasure it was interviewing him: Chris was so generous with his time, that the agreed upon 30 minutes turned into 50 minutes as we brushed upon many topics from his start as a theatre actor to his first voice-over role in a video game to his recently discovered hobby of playing D&D. Of course, we also spoke about all things Warhammer 40k, his new found fame brought on by voicing Heinrix and the insights he could share about the character.

I will publish this interview in three parts over the next week in text form and with the accompanying audio file (the audio quality is not spectacular but tumblr limits uploads to 10MB). If you quote or reshare, please quote me as the original source.

Part 2 of the interview

Part 3 of the interview

Fran: Thank you very much for taking your time.

Chris Tester: That's no problem. No problem at all.

F: So then let's start. You graduated in 2008.

CT: I did. Yes.

F: You started out as a stage actor. Did you always want to become a stage actor or an actor in general? Tell us a bit about your career.

CT: I always wanted to be a stage actor. Yes, as soon as I knew that I wanted to be an actor, which probably wasn't until I was a teenager. But yeah, my first passion was always the stage, and that was kind of borne out in my career. I would have been open to TV and film of course, if it had come along, I'm a huge fan of TV and film as well, but I never got an audition for any TV or film work.

I think I literally did about three short films in my 10, 12 years of actually professionally acting, and it is one of those industries where the more you do of one thing, the more you seem to find yourself doing the same thing to a degree. So yes, watching Shakespeare from an early age was one of my first passions.

And that was what first planted the seed of wanting to do it myself. The whole aspect of live performance is still something that I'm very passionate about. Up until 2020, when the world changed, I was trying to do two or three theatre shows a year, but since 2020, I haven't been near a stage and I doubt right now, especially with the way that the UK theatre scene is going, that I'm going to be back on stage anytime soon. I am resigned to that, but at some point in my career, I know I will be on stage again, because I can't live without it, but only for the right thing, both financially, but more importantly, creatively.

F: Your production company is currently on hiatus?

CT: I was the producer of a theatre company, which was run and was the baby of the director of the company, a guy called Ross Armstrong, who's one of the most talented writers and directors that I've ever worked with. I was helping out with a lot of the administration stuff so that he could still put me in plays. Instead of creating my own work because I'm not a very good writer or the best writer in the world, I support those people who will write me good parts. So yes, it is currently on hiatus, but never say never, we would always be looking to get back. It's difficult right now. It's difficult for all of us, because arts council subsidy, that way of being able to fund stuff, is drying up. We were doing a national tour of the UK when we were doing that [with the support of a subsidy]. There's even less money, there's even more people. I won't bore you with anything more than that, but it's kind of tough. We'd like to come back, but in the right way, and that's tricky to negotiate.

F: It's always hard as a stage actor to earn a living.

CT: Well, I've been spoiled by voice-over as well, and whereas when I was in my 20s and 30s then you're all about your art. And of course, I'm still all about my art, but I'm also about my wife and my cat and the mortgage and the bills and wanting to have nicer things to a degree as well. I've come to terms with that and voice-over does facilitate that as well as it opens you up to different roles and working with different people. So, I can't complain.

F: It's quite similar with making a living as a writer, because with a steady income you get used to a certain standard of living and once you have obligations and bills to pay, I think the stress on your mental health being creative and having all the stresses of regular life thrust upon you brings with it a challenge.

CT: It's a cliche we can very easily fall into: if I'm suffering, then it means I'm an artist. And that's not necessarily very true. It very often means that the art that we create only reflects one aspect of our lives, and it's usually a very tortured one. I am also about having wider experiences and broadening myself out. Whereas I think when I was in my twenties, I was thinking a bit more like: Oh, I'll experience the world and life through my art and just purely through my art. Whereas now necessarily I need to have a life outside of it as well, and then I can justify like I have the life so that I can feed my art or not, whatever. You know, I'll be a better artist by having a bit of a life outside of it. Maybe.

F: But that's what your twenties are for.

CT: Yeah, indeed.

F: Doing the crazy stuff, doing the band stuff

CT: Yeah, yeah, exactly. So, there was certainly an aspect of that in my twenties.

F: So, what brought you to voice acting or voice-over work initially?

CT: Money. Video game stuff is kind of sexy and cool, and I'm a gamer, so that's important. Before I was a video gamer, I was a board gamer and off the back of that, I was a voracious video gamer, partly because I wasn't very good at team sports at school. I was always the person who was picked last in the football team. So that becomes part of your identity for better or worse. But video games, I was pretty good at, not amazing, but I was pretty good at, and I enjoyed it. And it gave me a different form of escapism as well, and off the back of that I always had an interest in them.

So, the very first voiceover job was a video game: Dark Souls, which is quite a big franchise. At that time, I was your very typically jobbing actor. My acting agent came in and said: I got something for you. And so, I went in with that. But it was only in 2016, 2017 that I realised it was something that you could actually do yourself. People had recording studios at home and they were contacting people directly, not just going through agents. Because I'd basically written to the same 20 voice agents in the UK, mainly in London for like eight years in a row and not received anything. So, you keep knocking on those doors hoping.

Before I'd even graduated from drama school, I'd burnt a CD and made these cases with my headshot on it and sent them all off at what at the time felt like great personal expense and didn't get anything for eight years in a row. So, I was a bit like, I'm obviously doing something wrong, but I don't really know what, because I'm doing these workshops and getting good feedback. Then I found out through a couple of online courses, that there were ways and means of doing it myself, and that was a bit of a game changer for me, and within six months of having started, I was earning more through voice work than the bar job and the box office job that I was doing combined. Within six months, I was kind of like: “I gotta quit because I'm actually holding myself back from things.” So that was quite a big shift.

F: Somewhere you said, you started out under a duvet and with an oar.

CT: Yeah. On my website, I do have an image of it. [Dear reader, I could not locate this elusive photo] I literally had to take the duvet off my bed and put it into the living room, which was the quietest space in my then shared flat. I also had to wait until after one flat mate had watched TV and another one had used the table that had their washing on it. One of my flat mates had stolen an oar from some night out and that was perfect in order to be able to erect it over my head and the duvet as a frame.

I did probably the first four or five months of voice recording like that. Probably about 10, 15 voiceover jobs that I actually got paid for, I was using that because it worked well enough. Since then, I've gone through various different iterations of a setup in the bedroom, to a setup in the hallway, to my current setup. In 2020 we moved to our first house, and this is the spare bedroom which I've had converted into a studio, which means my cat can be here asleep on me or near me getting fur everywhere, but it's fine. I can thrash around and I've got natural light to work in at the same time, which I find quite important. [Pictured below Chris' current setup.]

F: Very pretty. That's good. Guide us through a typical day of yours, if you like.

CT: Oh, sure. I mean, there is no typical day. And yet, and yet, and yet. A typical day for me is, because I am spending the vast majority of the day sitting in this room or somewhere close to this room, because I may need to record at short notice, because the vast majority of jobs are quite short notice. My priority is exercise for mental health more than anything. I've got some weights at the bottom of the garden, and I will get up first thing, and I will go there and I will do that after breakfast. And that's my minimal routine of physical activity done.

And then I'll come back, and this is so rock and roll. Now what I do is, I spend like an hour on LinkedIn. And that's what you dreamed of as a creative person. Isn't it as an actor? I spend time on LinkedIn regularly every day, because it's a really good networking place for a lot of my types of work, and first thing in the morning, I'm a bit mentally sharper. So that's when I come up with a quick post that may be inspired by a bit of content that I've made elsewhere. That probably takes about 20 minutes and then I spend another 45 minutes to an hour engaging with people and saying hi and introducing myself and asking questions, whether that's with video producers or game developers or documentary makers or pretty much anything and everything. There are a lot of people who are active at that time. And so I do it.

And then after that, if I already have some recording lined up, then I'll prioritise mid-morning, because I've warmed up physically a bit more then, and I'm focused. So, you're going through the scripts, annotating the scripts, recording the scripts, editing the scripts. But then there could be live sessions at any time within that as well. I try to keep hours from nine till six. But occasionally, like with Rogue Trader, that was recorded at various different times of the day because we had people in New York, we had people in mainland Europe, and we had people in the UK. So all different time zones, so that can happen at any time.

And then I try to do other kinds of bits and pieces of marketing whenever I've got free time to. I do use really exciting productivity hacks, like time blocking. Again, not something that as a creative individual, I was like: Oh God, this gets me so excited, because it doesn't, but it works. It's finding a system that works for you, but still has a certain kind of flexibility and fluidity. I'm trying to make sure that I get outside of the house, and that kind of stuff.

Recently, over the last year, I’ve started doing audiobooks as well. That long form type of thing is quite nice to be able to dip into because sometimes you don't record for two, three days. You don't get the work. Nothing’s coming in. So, you’re marketing, but it kind of connects you back to the performance side of things to go: I can do a few chapters and you know, that kind of thing. So that's probably it. I try to formalise it, but you know, every voice actor’s day is radically different. There are people, some of the biggest names, going into different studios every week or every day. I very rarely, despite being based in London, I very rarely go into external studios. Like I would say 99 percent of the work I just do from home.

F: So how do you find the right voice for the specific type of voiceover work you do, maybe start with how did you find Heinrix's voice?

CT: Thankfully, Owlcat sent through quite a detailed casting breakdown. So, you get a picture, and that's pretty crucial, as well as a short bio, in terms of the background of the character, but not too much, because you have to sign an NDA, a non-disclosure agreement. But even if you do sign an NDA, I think developers are always slightly hesitant of giving you too much info about the game because things could still be changed. But I think I did get a picture of Heinrix, if not in the first audition, then certainly on the second one. From that you immediately think about the physicality and what might affect the voice, and there was also some direction in terms of what they were looking for. Anybody who has heard the character and me, they do not sound radically dissimilar. There's not a transformative process that I needed to go through, other than his sense of authority and the space that he takes up and the sureness that he has in that he has a kind of divine right from the emperor, so that level of confidence being brought through.

The other part of the audition was about the void ship [the Black Ship] that he'd been raised in and the horrors that he'd seen. And you as the actor have to do the detective work to go like this is showing another side, the more vulnerable side, the side that underpins all of his life choices up to this point. It's essentially playing the opposite to a degree. So it was kind of knowing when to let those elements bleed through a little bit. I think I had probably about a page worth of scripts, quite a lot of script actually to audition with.

But I don't like to listen back to it a lot, because I think you get into your head. My biggest thing is stage work where it's ephemeral. You say it once and it could be different the next night. The whole point is that there's no one definitive way of doing things. Not quite the same with voice acting, where it's being recorded and you've got to get used to hearing it back. But I try not to overthink it. Just like record it two or three times with different impulses and then review and go like, those two seem pretty contrasting. I'll send those along and hope and then never hear anything back unless I do.

#chris tester #heinrix van calox #rogue trader #warhammer 40k #rouge trader crpg #owlcat games

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lloromanic0 · 9 months

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Just made this blog to post random smut I have in my notes app. I hope you like them x

Bill Kaulitz as an exchange student looking for an English tutor ;)

You woke up around ten am, looking out your dorm window contemplating the rain hitting the glass. After about five minutes you finally got up a started to get ready for your classes, you looked at your schedule that was hooked above your desk, today you had English C1, German B1 and English literature. You were a languages enthusiast you had always been interested in learning new languages you loved communicating with others so picking a languages major was the only right choice for you. Since you lived close to campus at 10:50 you started walking to class hopping to be there by 11. The cold morning breeze hit your face making your cheeks feel cold and look slightly red, the rain had stopped by now, but some drops fell occasionally from trees or rooftops. After around 7 minutes of walking, you finally got inside and went straight to class. You didn’t have many friends, just enough to keep you company during the long days at university. As you were approaching the big classroom you saw one of your friends that was a part of some sort of Student Council which welcomed exchange students, of course she was always busy talking to people, but she never made you feel left out. As you got closer to her, she immediately spotted you giving you a big smile and you smiled back at her.

“Good morning, Y/N!”

“Good morning, Amelie.”

“I’ll get in the classroom just in a second I’m just handing some fliers to the exchange students.” She said while still smiling at you.

You nodded as you looked behind her to peek at the exchange students, when one of them really caught your eye. A tall, slim man with long black hair was looking directly at you making you feel slightly intimidated by his aura. After engaging in this staring contest with him for a few seconds you got inside of the amphitheatre taking a seat close to the edge.

Around ten minutes passed, and you saw Amelie walking inside the classroom looking for you, you waved at her as she gave you an expression of relief. She sat next you exhaling deeply and looking at you right after.

“Lots of work?” You ask.

“Quite a bit, but you know me I love meeting new people and try to give them the best university experience even if it’s just for a semester”.

She said smiling with her eyes closed. She truly had a beautiful heart.

You smiled softly again, you liked to talk to people, but you also loved you alone time and well Amelie barely had any due to all her responsibilities and you weren’t about to sacrifice that, but you did help her anytime you could.

Then she looked at you, she looked a bit..embarrassed…you didn’t know how to describe her expression well enough.

“Y/N can I please ask you to do me a favor.”

Your face got a bit hot at the sudden request, but you nodded firmly.

She quickly exhaled and began to talk.

“So there’s this one German exchange student that speaks very poor English and he came to me asking if anyone would be able to tutor him so that he could communicate better with people and to also help him pass his classes while he’s here”

“Why me?” You bluntly ask.

“Seriously? You’re a top student in English and you’re practically fluent in German you’re literally perfect to be his tutor!”

You kept silent for a bit.

“Listen I know you like to have your alone time specially after classes but if you could spare 2 hours let’s say…3 times a week to help him it wouldn’t harm you…”

“Also he’s willing to pay...”

“It’s not about money Amelie. But since you’re my friend I’ll see what I can do to help him”

She smiled and thanked you.

4 pm

After your tree classes Amelie asked you to meet her at the student’s office so you could schedule a time to tutor him. You kept wondering who this German student might be. You entered the office closing the door behind you when you saw him. The tall slim man who was staring at you this morning. You got close to him trying not to blush again, Amelie appeared behind you making you jump a little.

“Hi! I’m so happy you came; this is Bill your new student.” She said giggling, also making Bill smile, you sat next to him.

“Hallo“ he said smiling.

“Was geht“ you replied.

“I’m sure you’ll get along well” Amelie interrupted “So” she said while sliding you a piece of paper “These are the days that Bill is available for tutoring so you can see if it fits your schedule”.

Tuesday from 5pm-7pm

Thursday from 4pm-6pm

Friday from 8pm-10pm

You looked through your schedule then looked up at them smiling slightly.

“This is fine”

Bill looked very excited and so did Amelie.

You and Bill exchanged phone numbers and you three walked out.

«I can’t thank you enough Y/N! » Exclaimed Amelie.

Bill kept his eyes on you the whole time, you felt his gaze scanning your body it was hard to admit it, but you loved the feeling. You waved goodbye to both, and you tree parted ways. After the same 7-minute walk you did everyday you finally entered your dorm room and threw yourself on the bed. You closed your eyes starting to feel sleepy when suddenly your phone vibrated.

Texts

Bill: «Hope to see you tomorrow Süβe ;)»

You stupidly smiled at the text quickly snapping out of your daydreaming and giving him a quick reply.

«Yep, don’t be late :)» you placed your phone down and fell asleep a few minutes later.

You woke up the next day, it was a sunny morning today the warm sun felt comforting on your skin but it was still as cold as yesterday. You checked your phone for the time and noticed another text from Bill, your heart raced a little.

Texts

Bill

«Good morning, Miss what should I bring to class today? » you laughed a little at the nickname he called you.

«Your total concentration and maybe a notebook and a pen would be nice».

«Yes ma’am» he replied.

You only had 2 classes today so around 4pm you would be free so had an hour to prepare some sort of exercises for Bill to practice after class.

4:50 pm

After putting on some comfortable clothes you quickly set up your desk so that Bill had space to sit down, when suddenly you heard a nock on your door, the noise startled you but you quickly calmed down remembering it was probably Bill. You looked in the mirror for a second fixing your hair and makeup and then opened the door.

He was leaning on the side of the door frame towering over you as you stared at his figure.

“I thought you were going to leave me out here.” he said pouting his lips in a playful way.

You just laugh in response and tell him to get in.

“Do you want a water or maybe a snack?” You asked trying to make him feel more comfortable.

“Water please!”

You grabbed a bottle from your mini fridge and gave it to him.

“Danke.” He said

“In here we only speak English ok Bill?” You replied playfully.

“Yes ma’am”

You rolled your eyes and sat down next to him.

“So I prepared a list of things that I thought would be good for you to practice.”

You showed him the list: conjugating verbs, irregular verbs, pronunciation, correct way of writing sentences etc..

He read trough it as his eyes widened.

“So much….”

“I’m here to help you Bill we need to work on these aspects if you want to get better.”

He looked like a sad puppy he was so cute you couldn’t help yourself.

“Anddd if you do a good job I’ll even reward you.”

He look at you with a little grin.

“Can I choose the reward?”

You tilted your head and lifted your right eyebrow a little

“Don’t you think you’re asking for too much already?”

His cheeks got pink, you didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or shyness but he looked so handsome like that.

You cleared your throat and stared to show him some work sheets on verb conjugation.

5:45 pm

“Professor…”

“No need to call me that Bill don’t be silly.” You said while giggling a bit.

“I can’t remember this one. I hate irregular verbs!” He exclaimed slightly mad.

“You can do it just think hard. After you finish that we can take a small break.”

His face instantly lite up as he worked hard on his paper. After a few minutes he finished it and as you corrected it,you told him he could take a break.

All of a sudden you feel arms wrap around you shoulders.

“Y/N are you done correcting? I thought you were taking the break with me.”

You gulped hard while you looked at his hands hanging from your shoulders.

“Bill…I need to correct this before we move on you know that..”

“But…” he slightly hesitated to speak “…I want you to pay attention to me”

His words made you bite your lower lip lightly.

“You can sit with me if you would like.”

He pulled his chair to sit down.

“Not there Bill.” You pulled yourself away from the table a little and placed your hand on your exposed thigh.

“Sit here.”

His face now painted red and his mouth slightly hanging open, he looked at you and you gave him a smile of approval. He walked over to you positioning himself on your lap. You placed one of your hands around his lower stomach making him exhale nervously.

“Are you comfortable?” You whispered. He nodded and kept still while you finished your work.

6 pm

“All done,you did quite well Bill I’m impressed.” your hand caressing his thigh.

“All thanks to you..” his voice slightly cracking.

“Are you ok Bill? If you don’t feel comfortable please tell me.”

“Y-yes I’m fine Y/N”

You looked over his shoulder and saw the evident tent in his pants,you licked your lips and slowly moved your hand up his tight.

He let out a shaky breath.

“What’s wrong mein liebe?” You asked innocently.

“Nichts…” his breath getting heavier each time your hand approached his erection but never touching it without his consent.

With that you took your hand off his thigh and flipped through some more work sheets.

“Warum hast du aufgehört!?” His tone slightly higher.

“English please.” You said teasing.

He scoffed “Why did you stop…?”

“Stop what Bill?” You whisper close to his neck.

“You stopped touching me…”

“You want me to touch you?”

He nodded, his breath getting heavier.

“But where Bill?”

He stopped for a second getting embarrassed to ask you to touch his throbbing cock that made his tight pants feel very uncomfortable.

“Tell me Bill…” You whispered in his ear starting to kiss his neck while rubbing his thighs again.

“Touch me between my thighs please…” he begged in a low tone.

“I couldn’t hear you baby can you repeat that?” You wanted to tease him until he got to his limit.

“Please touch my cock…It hurts so bad.”

“That’s a good boy, so obedient.”

You moved your hand up his tight slowly palming his erection through his pants.

You unzipped them and pulled his boxers down as his hard cock sprung out of them hitting his lower stomach. For such a slim guy he was definitely bigger than average. The pink head of his cock was coated in his precum,it twitched quite often desperately seeking some sort of stimulation. You hand wrapped around his base slowly pumping him, he whimpered and whined,your slow touch making him feel more agony rather than pleasure.

“Please…faster.” He begged,breathing heavily. You quickly complied to his request since he was being so well behaved. You stroked him faster as your wrist started to get sore but the erotic sounds he was making were enough to make up push through the discomfort. With one hand you massed his balls, and with the other you circled his tip with your thumb, he moaned loudly with the doble stimulation.

“Sshh keep it down Bill, you don’t want the whole dorm to know how much of a whore you are.”

“Sheiße….i can’t- I’m so close-“

“Cum for me liebe.” You ordered.

With a few more strokes he came all over your hands coating them in his thick semen.

“Thank you-thank-you..for helping me cum…” he kept thanking you as he laid his head back on your shoulder so that he could look at you.

You kissed him a few times complementing him, telling him he did a very good job and how he was such a good boy.

You helped him clean up and walked him to the door since it was already past time and you didn’t want your dorm mates to suspect anything.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at university Bill.”

“Yeah…text me when you get there.” He gave you a big smile.

“Will do.” You smiled as you pulled him down for one last kiss, this one being a little longer than the previous. You opened the door for him and watched him walk down the corridor looking back at you a few times, when you lost sight of him you closed the door and went back to your room.

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #smut #dom reader #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x female reader

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mythmash · 2 months

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Bouncer!Sukuna AU Pt. 10 - Furniture Shopping

Bouncer!Sukuna x Stripper/Dancer!Reader. Warnings: MDNI 18+, long, bullet point fic, uncle!sukuna, sukuna's very tired accountant, sukuna being inappropriate in furniture stores, sex toy mention A/N: this is a collaborative work made with the amazing @pastelbunnelby, @pastelpixies & @chaoskrakenuwu Series Masterlist || Previous | Next

Going back to this post, and the part about riding Sukuna on the dining room table

Your first thought is wow that must be a really strong table

But then you think about how hot it is that that’s almost certainly why he picked it

He doesn’t care about how many people it can seat he just wants to know how much weight it can handle for…reasons

You go furniture shopping with him and learn that’s actually how he picks all of his furniture

Sukuna doesn’t give a fuck about interior decorating, it’s all about maximum fucking potential

The employee at the fancy furniture store is yapping about the wood grain and how old the trees the legs were cut from are

Sukuna's not even pretending to be interested

He’s just spaced out thinking of will it wobble when he bends you over it

Before they can even finish talking he just thinks “Yeah, this’ll work.” and slaps his card on the counter

You're looking at bookcases and asking about materials and if the shelves are adjustable

When you ask Sukuna what he thinks, he pushes you up against it and stands between your legs

No, it doesn’t tilt.

Yes, the shelves hold his weight.

It doesn't dig into your back.

Sold.

Here’s his card.

Does he know how much it costs? No. He didn’t look.

It literally does not matter to him as long as it works

He's like a cat just silently walking around nudging things and muttering to himself before he moves on to the next thing

The employees are too scared to ask if he needs help, but also he seems to have…some kind of system going?? So they just leave him be until it’s time to check out

You have to follow behind him to remind him “No. We are not getting that table with a stained walnut finish. I don’t care how sturdy it is, everything in our house is oak.”

He finally says fuck it and starts getting furniture custom made

It’s the perfect shade of ash or oak or whatever you’re talking about and double reinforced so he can bend you over it and give you a real good look at the finish anytime

Sukuna spends an ungodly amount of money furniture shopping with you

And on you in general, no matter how much you try to stop him

His accountant has a lot of questions after Sukuna starts dating you

“What are all these charges for custom tables?”

“Why are you spending thousands on….Pleaser Platform Shoes?”

Can’t a man get a good cunty platform? Gosh

“You can’t write off vibrators and cock rings as a work expense. No, fucking your girlfriend for forty hours a week doesn’t count as a job. I don't care that you're "putting in the work".”

“What do you mean you have an "honorary W2" from The Love Store?”

“Why do you have a manicure budget? And why does it include $200 tips?”

Sukuna is baffled by that one because nail techs do hard work

Do you see how small those nails are and how intricate the designs are?

What is he supposed to do? Not tip? It’s 2024, get with the times Mx. Accountant.

He’ll kill people no problem, but he draws the line at being at not tipping customer service workers

The day Sukuna tells his accountant that half of his major charges are him paying for private dances from his own girlfriend (plus tip) is the day his accountant almost quits

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna ryoumen #sukuna ryoumen smut #jjk sukuna #bouncer!sukuna #jjk fics

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multifandomslxt · 1 year

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NCT 127 and their sugar daddy ratings PT.1

part two coming soon as well as a svt and skz version

Johnny Suh

9.5/10 ( less .5 because he refuses to use the title of sugar daddy, instead he prefers "sponsor".)

He's a CEO. No questions about it.

The man is Fucking RICH

You met through a mutual friend

talked a bit and you ended up telling him that

you were currently taking a year off because of a financial bind

Lies to you and tells you he sponsors college students sometimes

and that he would like to sponsor you

Of course you immediately accept the offer

so begins the sugar daddy antics

Would spoil you,

And I do mean

SPOIL YOU!

The song 'Sexy' by JoeVille

"you can do anything you want when you sexy"

Is something he literally lives by

you can do no fucking wrong in his eyes

you're his princess

went on a business trip once and came back to tell you

he bought you a whole penthouse apartment

just in case you wanted to "Study abroad"

buys you EVERYTHING you could ever want

demands you call him "Mr. Suh"

in your eyes its because he wants respect

in his eyes its the closest thing to 'daddy'.

Forbids you from getting a part-time job because

"I can take care of you. Let me take care of you I'm your sponsor after all."

Buys you an expensive necklace for your graduation present.

Then finally reveals that the whole sponsor thing was just him spending his personal money on you.

and so begins the sugar baby-to-girlfriend pipeline.

treats you the same except

now yall are having sex 6/7 days of the week.

Jung Jaehyun

10/10 (bitch he's perfecttttttt)

Another CEO

He ain't rich like Johnny though

This bitch right here?

he is ✨ WEALTHY✨

LOVESSSSSSS TO SPEND HIS MONEY

You met while you were at work

Everybody knew him

and you were the waitress in charge of his table

First thing you realized about this man

he doesn't speak to many people

Someone literally ordered for him

anyways

imagine your shock when you're about to clock out and your

co-worker tells you "Y/n, Mr. Jung would like to have a word with you. He says to bring your stuff with you"

His security leads you to his car and you step in

Jaehyun is literally staring at you the minute you sit in the car

"I'll be straight to the point, I have a meeting to get to in the next 10 minutes. I want you."

Cue the shocked look and silence

However, y'all start to date.

yes, he's your boyfriend and your sugar daddy

as I said, he enjoys spending his money

but only on very specific people.

takes you all over the fucking world you hear me???

Paris has seen your face more than your local chick-fil-a

the type to buy you anything you look at

even if it was for a mili second

this explains how your closet is now overflowing with designer dresses

also, you're a curvy queen

listen closely

HE WILL BE BUYING YOU EVERY DESIGNER BODY CON DRESS TO EVER EXIST!

this is his fav so simple yet so effective (he's convinced you're trying to k!ll him)

that dress got you a fucking range rover babeee

and it also got you a few days of sick leave from the "unnecessary job" as Jaehyun likes to call it.

completely reaaranged your guts lmaoo

And the lingerie??

its tradition he buys you 10-15 sets every Friday

"Y'know daddy'll give you the world right?"

Lee Taeyong

9/10 (he was awkward at first lmaoo)

First off you don't know what he does

but the bitch got MONEYYYYYYYYYY

You met on a sugar baby app

you were just trynna make ends meet

he was just trynna get rid of the extra money he got

his first text to you seemed so damn auto mated lmaooo

"hello, I'm Taeyong! Would you like to continue this conversation?"

you were like "???"

but yk eventually yall kicked it off

gave you his card pin after your third date

"Anything you want Daddy will buy it for you okay?"

omfg

the type to set up an account for you just for your hair and nails

fucckkkkkkk

he even sends you what he wants you to get.

Just so yk

Them Fulani braids

will send him in a coma

he loves frenchies too

so expect alooottt of special requests

he expects to see your personal purchases on his bank statements

don't play with him.

got his bank statement once and dint see your daily coffee purchase

fucked you into oblivion just for that.

he pays your rent

and is also planning on buying you 2 cars for your birthday

one for everyday use

and the other for special occasions lmaoooo

"Just let Daddy take care of you okay?"

Nakamoto Yuta

11/10 (Bitch...it's literally Yuta)

You also don't know what he does

but as usual, he got money

somehow WEALTHIER than Jaehyun

Yall met through a sugar baby app

he was experimenting

and you were new to this

has a specific amount of money he must depend on you at the end of every month

over 200k

I said what I said

yes you are his sugar baby but he was very clear

when he told you that he is also the MAN in your life

ain't nobody supposed to have access to that pu$$y except him and you

got that??

s3x with him is surprisingly rare btw

he's wayyy too busy to be around you 24/7

hence the over the top 200k budget

always has eyes on you even when he isn't there

you went grocery shopping n the wrong side of town once

and he called you the minute you got home

"What did I tell you about putting yourself in danger princess? do you want me to come home early and teach you a lesson?"

probably the most possessive out of all of them

#nct imagines #nct yuta #nct fanfic #nct taeyong #nct dream #nct doyoung #nct fluff #nct 127 #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct mark #nct taeil #nct jaehyun #nct jungwoo #nct johnny #nct haechan #multifandomslxt

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pleasingsatellite · 1 year

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toxic socialite harry and y/n

liked by harrystyles, gemmastyles and 352,829 others

yourinstagram in paradise 🌊

view all 2,628 comments

randomperson an angel!

randomperson girl the photoshop is getting out of hand…

↳yourinstagram all natural babe 😚

harrystyles god damn i’m lucky

↳yourinstagram all for you babe 🫶🏻

randomperson weren’t harry and y/n literally just fighting in a club like a week ago?

↳randomperson they literally break up every other week it’s nothing new

↳yourinstagram hey it’s more like every other month get it right

liked by yourinstagram, niallhoran and 573,829 others

harrystyles got the hottest girl on this boat in my lap.

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niallhoran hey man…I’m on the boat too

↳harrystyles hence why I said “girl”

randomperson they’re so cute when they’re actually being happy together

yourinstagram 🫡

thesun how long y’all think this is gonna last?

↳harrystyles a week tops, she’s mental mate

↳yourinstagram you’re sleeping outside tonight

liked by harrystyles, randomperson and 473,729 others

yourinstagram better than ever

view all 3,629 comments

randomperson need their life fr, born into money and they just get to party

↳yourinstagram hey! we also brunch and shop don’t minimize our contributions to society

harrystyles hey pretty lady

↳ yourinstagram come over?

randomperson she’s so hot he doesn’t deserve her I heard he was fucking around with some model on the side 😗

↳randomperson pretty sure I saw him kissing said model the other night….

liked by randomperson, randomperson and 45,395 others

deuxmoi I have confirmed this with multiple sources, sounds like they’re officially broken up…again.

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randomperson I could see them ending from a mile away

randomperson my man threw away a 10 and for what?

randomperson they’ll literally be back together in like 2 weeks

↳randomperson idk I saw y/n in a club on Friday with said NBA player and they seemed relatively serious the PDA was crazy

liked by randomperson, randomperson and 13,739 others

thesun Fun in the sun for Harry Styles who recently cheated on his on again off again girlfriend y/n was seen in Turks and Caico’s getting rather snuggly with the model he cheated on her with. Could this truly be the end for the socialite couple?

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randomperson my man has no shame but tbh…i get it

randomperson imagine cheating on your gf and then just flaunting it in public

yourinstagram lol what a joke

↳randomperson oop….you deserve so much better girl

↳yourinstagram and I have it don’t worry 🤭

liked by randomperson, yourinstagram and 20,728 others

dailymail new couple alert! Socialite y/n was spotted leaving dinner with NBA player Devin Booker following her very messy break-up with fellow socialite Harry Styles. This could get mess people! Buckle up.

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randomperson good for her! never let ‘em see you sweat girl!

randomperson her and harry gotta be #1 most toxic couple rn

↳randomperson you’re right cause we both know they’ll be making out at some club next month like nothing happened

randomperson rich people problems seem like a lot of work

yourinstagram we’re cute 🤷🏻‍♀️

liked by randomperson, devbook31 and 472,829 others

yourinstagram imagine cheating on me?

view all 4,638 comments

randomperson FUMBLED THE BAG!

randomperson damn she’s too hot for him

devbook31 can’t relate

↳yourinstagram 🫶🏻

harrystyles well damn

↳yourinstagram go away.

Please go read the Magnolia Parks series it’s consumed my life and this is lowkey inspired by that because i love for drama and that book got the most amount of drama I’ve ever read so if you like angst READ IT!!!! enjoy love you say it back

#harry styles fake instagram #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake social media #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles instagram #harry styles au #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styes

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lab1rynth · 1 year

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YAN!LUST

Yan!Lust who you met around a decade after you got sent to hell, there was 7 rings which had been ruled by the 7 sins, one for each ring. Depending on the sin you had most committed, you had been banished to that ring.

Yan!Lust who you first see in a large bar he had owned, strippers and horny people flooded the floors, yet the large king had been left alone, no one dare step within 10 feet of him. Calling him large was a understatement. He was 11 feet tall, probably taller, his large platforms making him even taller. His head was replaced with a charred ghost skull with gold highlights, a fur scarf wrapped around where his neck would have been. He had two sets of arms, which were uncovered as he was wearing a white virgin killer and black pants, which shone bright against his pitch black skin that had matched the color of the skull.

Yan!Lust who you were honestly quite scared of at first, you knew his status and his power, and you weren't willing to catch his eye. Though as you drank more and more, and started to match the careless energy around you, you decided to walk up to him and flirt with him, leaning against his chair with a drunken smirk.

Yan!Lust who looked down at you, bringing one of his hands up to his chest as he gasped, he was also quite drunk and had been shocked someone walked up to him, "What are you doing, Little Sinner?" He asked, his voice quite deep as he spoke. The mouth of the skull moving as he spoke. You explained to him, "Hell, I'm drunk and dead and at the moment I don't give a shit about what happens to me. So you want to show me why you're the embodiment of lust?"

Yan!Lust who that night, after much flirting between you and him, had led you to one of the rooms where costumers would do as they pleased with the strippers, he locked the door before you both started what you both would be doing for the rest of the night. He had stamina, and wasn't exactly vanilla, though you had expected that. He's literally Lust, you'd be quite stupid if you expected anything less.

Yan!Lust who you stuck around, he wanted to keep it at a one night stand but you decided against it. You thought you had some sort of say in it, as if he didn't have sex with multiple sins a day and was a lot more powerful than you. He was the first sin, the origin of sin, he was quite a bit more powerful, as there's no sin without lust, bloodlust, lust for money, lust for sex, lust for power, it goes on.

Yan!Lust who figures you aren't leaving anytime soon, you quickly walk next to him and talk on and on as he slightly walks and looks forward. It happened a lot, you continuing to go on about random things as he ignored you, or at least you thought he did. That was until one day you asked a question, and he responded with a thing you had told him a few weeks ago. To say you were surprised he listened (let alone remembered), would be an understatement.

Yan!Lust who started talking to you a lot more after around 3 months, which if you were alive would be around 3 hours. Lust had told you how hell worked, it was made to torture all of the inhabitants that came from earth, those who were born in hell had been tortured, yet less than earth-borns, and those who ruled, as he did, performed this torture as much as possible.

Yan!Lust who lets you basically do whatever you want, you sit on his lap as he sits on his throne, when he's telling someone off your next to him roasting the shit out of the person. You drink, talk, fuck and party as much as you please. Well, you would've done the same before, but at least now you can do it knowing you aren't going to get murdered or something.

Yan!Lust who actually started to be quite laid back, yet clingy. He started talking more and joining in on some of your shenanigans, he had also taught you how to poll dance and how to use Aerial Silk! He was always at least two feet away from you, touching you, and had you in his sights.

Yan!Lust who, after one eventful night, you found missing from beside you on his bed. His door was locked and you had no tools to open the lock. So, you had decided just to look around, looking through his wardrobe, and through his drawers; going through a drawer in his bedside table and finding a strange collection of stuff of yours, nothing you gave to him, but small shit you'd lost. You let out a small laugh, closing the drawer before jumping onto the bed and turning on the TV.

Yan!Lust busted into the room a few hours later, dramatically sighing as he fell back next to you onto the bed, "Sorry Mouse, there was something happening with Lucifer and I couldn't have you come with me," He hummed, playing with your hair as you climbed onto his chest, burying your face between his breasts as he brought a hand up to play with your hair.

Yan!Lust who after a few minutes, you looked up at with a small smile, "So when do you plan on giving my shit back?" You asked, leaning your head onto your hand, "Maybe if you beg enough," He laughed out, making you pout. He brought up a hand and poked at your lip, stopping you from pouting, "I dont think you need them back anyway, since you're living with me now," You had let out a gasp and rolled off of him, "Since when?" - "Since you literally stopped going to your old house and sleeping in my bed," oh, yeah.

Yan!Lust who starts locking you in his room more often, cooking for you,getting you stuff, and moving you around like a little doll. Treating you like you belong to him. He barely lets you outside anymore. Though at this point you dont really care, you're being spoilt by a demonic king for the rest of eternity! Why would you care?

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thedeliverygod · 9 months

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The Final Chapter of Noragami

I'll start off by saying no matter what, this is my favorite manga/anime series. It'll always be near and dear to my heart. And thank you again to @fast-moon who has put so much time in effort into this series so that we would be able to read it in English ASAP.

But here are my honest thoughts, below the cut

There are far too many open ends. As a writer and a fan, I get that it's good to leave things pretty open ended and give fans a chance to explore possibilities. But there was too much here.

Something that struck me during my read of the translation (as I read the raws about an hour beforehand) was the absence of Nana. Arahabaki and Shiho are at the hanami, why not her? Especially since she's got a bond with Bishamon as well.

Is Nora just a free agent, doing whatever she wants? We see that Yukine still has his Hagusa name, so clearly she would still have Mizuchi. And we know Yato can't re-name her. Does she spend time with Yato and Yukine at Kofuku's house? Is she Yato's secret agent in watching over Hiyori? lol

Kazuma is the only one (aside from Nana) who survived the God's Greatest Secret without being named with the koto no ha. How is he dealing with it? Is he also having nightmares like Yukine?

Yato being 'saved' by going viral is a bit dumb especially because the posts are like "wow this guy is doing like a 10 year old meme lame" etc so it didn't seem like it should have blown up much anyway? and he also says no one actually remembers 'him'/uses his name just Teke-Teke so how does that... actually help Yato? Granted he didn't die and he has a smartphone now but I feel like he would... actually have to really be acknowledged to get money and have a shrine other than Hiyori's shrine (which btw what happened to THE DAMN SHRINE??? its on the cover but the chapter??? absent)

"I'll give you all of me" and dramatic crying/kiss but then Yato just seems so... detached. granted I KNOW it's because of the near shore/far shore and he doesn't want to endanger her again and just looks over her and it's a trope that's been in a million fanfics including mine but it just feels so off and bluh to NOT GET ANY RESOLUTION OTHER THAN HIYORI JUST RECOGNIZING HIM and then a line in the journal about how he tried to play it off.

I can't even think of everything tbh there's just a lot I want answered that wasn't...

I would say the best part of this chapter was the stuff about Fujisaki. It finally answered that he was 'born' with Father present inside of him and they kind of switched back and forth. Although again that leaves the question of how much was Fujisaki and how much was Father in terms of hitting on Hiyori/how much did Fujisaki know about Father's antics. I also love that Yato still hates him anyway even without Father LOL

lastly father was this giant cataclysmic force in Yato's life for literally over a thousand years and he's finally free. and we really get no reaction in regards to that. And that is especially disappointing when it's a major theme of the manga as a whole, you know?

idk that's my piece for now. I'm sure I'll have more to say in the coming days/weeks/months/etc but I hope and pray there's maybe any sort of small addition to the tankobon release.

it did mention "please look forward to adachitoka's next work" but I think that was just like a publishing nicety. I think noragami's ending was rushed due to their ongoing health problem and/or pressure from the publishers and I honestly don't see them coming out with a new series any time soon.

#noragami #noragami spoilers #noragami final chapter spoilers

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anon-sect · 9 months

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PART ONE

Chaze had heard a rumor that there was a place that you could buy special clothes and footwear made specifically from human beings who either volunteer to become property of another person or was unfortunate to be forced to do so. He heard that once you bought it, human transformed clothes or footwear was yours to do with as you pleased. It no longer had human rights. It was an object for its owners' use and nothing more. At first, Chaze thought that was a bit cruel until he read the reviews about human transformed clothing and footwear. All the reviews stated that durability is way beyond normal objects. The level of comfort outmatched normal objects. Even though human transformed objects do get dirty, they still last for years longer than normal objects. Seeing this, he had to have some for himself. Even though he knew the objects would be former humans, whether voluntary or involuntary, he wanted to own clothing and footwear that he could keep for years without great damage.

Chaze found the address to the store and went shopping the next day. Once at the store, he saw it was unlike anything he expected. There were computer stations on the main floor with an attendant next to each one to assist each customer. There were no shelves with items. An attendant approaches him. "Are you looking to purchase items from our collection?" The young female attendant asked.

"Actually, yes. How does this work? I have never been in a store like this before." He spoke and asked. "Follow me." She directed over to her station.

"On the screen, you select the material you want. Once selected, you then pick what you want the object to become. And that is pretty much it. Our inventory has both female and male objects to choose from. All are over the age of twenty-five years old and nothing over fifty-five years old." The attendant reported while showing him the screen.

"Another question, which are voluntary and which aren't?" Chaze asked with curiosity. He just wanted to know since he was literally selecting people to become his objects and property.

The attendant presses some areas on the screen. "Those with a green check are ones who willingly want to be an object for another person's purpose. As to why they willingly give their humanity forever, I really don't know. Those with a red X are ones who unfortunately have no choice. Whether it be because of the justice system or they owe a lot of debt and this is the only way their debt collectors get their money. " The attendant paused as she brought up the payment screen. "The pricing depends on your choices. Males cost more while females are half priced. The object pricing also depends on what you want the object to be. Beside each selection is the cost, so you will know how much you are paying for someone's human life to be your personal property. If there aren't any more questions, you may begin shopping." The attendant let him have full access to the screen.

Chaze knew exactly what he wanted. A pair of new socks, new cowboy boots, and underwear that could handle his waist since normal underwear only lasted only three weeks at a time. He scrolled through the listing. He saw a couple of red Xs. One was by a criminal who was in his late forties that was serving a life sentence for murder of ten people over the course of several years. He selected him for a sock. He found the other red X to be a resent arrestee who could not pay his bail. He was arrested for stealing several high-end cars off a car lot. He selected him as a sock. He now had his pair of socks. Both lives cost $75 a piece, plus being socks was $10 apiece. He really didn't feel bad about taking their humanity to use as comfort for his feet. Both were criminals. They would serve society best by comforting his feet for the rest of their lives. He smiled at that thought.

Next, Chaze wanted a pair of boots. He continued to scroll through the list of material to pick from. He saw one with a green check. It was a young guy in his early twenties who wanted a life of no worries or having to make decisions. He quickly selected him. As a boot, he would definitely get that kind of life. His existence would only serve to support his feet. The next green check he found interesting was a woman that had gone into hiding from some crime syndicate. He didn't know why she would select this way of hiding, but no crime syndicate would be looking for a transformed boot. He selected here to create a matching pair. He now had two volunteers and two involuntary transformed objects.

The last object he wanted was a pair of transformed underwear. He continued to scroll till he saw a name that looked familiar. He brought up the picture. It was the face of his old high school bully that tormented his life all of middle school and high school. Apparently, he was in debt to several credit companies. This was their way of getting paid the money they were owed. He selected him to be his underwear. He added one note to his selection. He wanted the face to be at the rear end. He remembered the times that the guy would sit on his face and fart on him. It would be poetic justice for his old bully to literally be his underwear for the rest of his life. Now, he gets to sit on his face as often as he wanted. He couldn't wait for that part.

The one boot cost $100 plus the $20 boot transformation. While the other boot was discounted at $50 plus the $20 boot transformation. His underwear was more pricey with a $200 cost plus the $15 underwear transformation charge. Chaze selected check out to see his grand total. Even though his old bully was expensive, it was worth the cost to torment him the rest of his life. The full total came to $575 plus a $25 tax charge. He swiped his bank card, paying a full total of $600. He felt a little weird that he just paid $600 to forever own former human lives, but they now belong to him as the customer who just shopped for transformed objects.

"Your objects will be ready to pick up in two hours." The attendant responded as she let a new customer know her station was ready for a new shopper. Chaze got up so that someone else could go shopping online. As he walked around, he saw that every station was busy with others waiting to go shopping. The thought that he wasn't the only one buying human lives to use as objects astounded him. He waited at one of the bars while his purchases were being prepared.

Two hours later, he was called up. He came to the counter. The sales clerk behind the counter handed him a bag. Inside was a pair of white cotton socks, a pair of boots, and underwear. The sales clerk handed him his receipt.

Back at his car, Chaze pulled out the underwear from the bag. "Hello Blake. It's Chaze from middle and high school. It's the nerd you tormented for fun. You are my underwear now. My ass gets to torment you." He placed the underwear back in the bag and drove home. He couldn't wait to wear his new underwear. That one article he bought he would wear every for a solid two months straight. He smiled at that thought.

#inanimate transformation #foot domination #shrinkage #sock transformation #boot transformation #transformed underwear

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