#personal shopper jobs

[emploisdacheteurs]

Emplois dans la Mode: Personal Shopper à Cannes

Cannes, joyau de la Côte d'Azur, séduit par ses plages ensoleillées, son prestigieux festival du film et sa réputation de luxe. Mais derrière cette façade étincelante prospère un monde de services exclusifs, et l’un des rôles les plus recherchés est celui de personal shopper. Vous aimez le shopping ? Si vous aimez la mode, vous pouvez obtenir des emplois de personal shopper chez The Personal Shopper Agency.

Une journée dans la vie d'un Personal Shopper Cannois Imaginez ceci : votre journée de travail tourne autour de la navigation dans les boutiques de créateurs, les bijoutiers prestigieux et les tailleurs sur mesure. Vous cultivez des relations avec les vendeurs, dénichez des trésors cachés et créez des expériences de shopping personnalisées pour une clientèle haut de gamme. En tant que personal shopper cannois, cela pourrait être votre réalité.

Une journée typique pourrait inclure:

Consultation client: Vous commencez par comprendre les besoins et les préférences de votre client. Assiste-t-il au Festival de Cannes et a-t-il besoin d'une tenue de rêve pour le tapis rouge ? Ou peut-être un rafraîchissement de garde-robe pour ses vacances en yacht ?

Création d'itinéraire: Sur la base des consultations, vous élaborez un itinéraire de shopping personnalisé, englobant les magasins qui correspondent au budget et au style du client. Cela nécessite une connaissance exceptionnelle du paysage de la mode cannoise, des grandes marques aux designers locaux.

Navigation en boutique: Vous agissez en tant qu'ambassadeur de votre client, en prenant des rendez-vous, en négociant des visites privées et en assurant une expérience de shopping sans faille. Votre maîtrise du français est un atout majeur, tout comme vos compétences en négociation.

Sélection de la garde-robe: Vous allez au-delà de la simple sélection de vêtements. Vous aidez les clients à créer des looks, à accessoiriser les tenues et à vous assurer que tout est parfaitement ajusté. Un œil pour le détail et une compréhension des tendances actuelles sont essentiels.

Les compétences dont vous avez besoin pour réussir Le monde du personal shopper cannois est rapide, exigeant, mais indéniablement gratifiant. Voici ce qu'il faut pour réussir:

Expertise en mode: Une compréhension approfondie des tendances de la mode, des marques de créateurs et de la scène de la mode cannoise est essentielle.

Compétences linguistiques: La maîtrise du français et de l'anglais est indispensable. Les langues supplémentaires sont un plus, répondant à la clientèle internationale de Cannes.

Compétences interpersonnelles: Une excellente communication, de la patience et la capacité à établir des rapports avec les clients sont essentiels.

Compétences en négociation: Obtenir les meilleures affaires et naviguer dans le monde des prix de luxe nécessite de solides compétences en négociation.

Organisation et gestion du temps: Juggler les horaires des clients, les rendez-vous et les itinéraires exige des compétences organisationnelles exceptionnelles.

[ssaalexblake]

told my niece that going to the supermarket this morning Sucked and she told me, after much narrowing down of species, that i should get an alligator to take with me and then nobody would get in my way or block me or bash into me while i was grocery shopping.

Told her they don't allow pets in the store.

She told me I should get a Service Alligator.

[queer-cosette]

So many people get self-conscious about ordering alcohol via online grocery shopping so I just want all of you to know that we literally just assume that anyone who buys more than two bottles of wine or a four-pack of beer is hosting guests. Literally you don't have to explain it to us. We have seen weirder. We have seen customers way more deserving of judgement. At the store I work at, we got a nine-basket order that literally only included 10kg bags of kitty litter and 1ltr cartons of shelf-stable apple juice. And the dude never showed up to get it. We had to return the entire order. The next week he ordered the exact same thing for home delivery and made the delivery driver cart it all up three flights of stairs to his apartment. Apparently the apartment smelled of piss. We are judging him way more than we're judging you for your four bottles of chardonnay and two 12-packs of Birra Morretti.

[giftedpoison]

So I don't know what to do with this information so buckle up I guess.

Hi, my name is Eve and in my real life I used to work at a grocery store (it's a chain but not necessarily a national one so i won't be saying their name for purposes of anonymity).

I worked there from the age of 16 (was hired December 18th 2016). Eventually started working in their shopping department for curbside pickup in 2019, when the department opened. Became a supervisor in the department in November of 2021 (after doing the job for a few years being paid as a part time shopper rather than supervisor) then i was promoted to Lead of the department in Feb. of 2022 (which essentially meant I ordered supplies, dealt with managing a group of 13 individuals and sat in on corporate meetings and the like).

That's my history. I quit in September of 2023. Because the job was trying to kill us all and I hit my breaking point. (My breaking point was when 5 of my employees including myself nearly passed out from over exertion. I say nearly because I forced them to stop and eat and hydrate when it got too bad, i was fighting for management to give me help so we could get breaks out but they wouldn't listen and I ended up absolutely word vomiting my building frustrations with their management style that I had been actively fighting against for well over a year at that point.)

I know I'm a good leader, but management increasingly thought of me as naive and too soft as a leader because I refused to step back and allow abuse of my workers for corporate profit. Despite the fact I would show them statistics and give them nuanced balanced perspectives they let their own biases get in the way.

Three of my shoppers were their main targets. Two of which were neurodivergent and came from a not so great background. The third one wasn't neurodivergent but she came from a broken background that involved drugs and alcohol as a minor she was 19.

I think about the third girl so often. Because I remember she wasn't shopping at the speed they wanted her too (aka the goal for the whole department) which was a valid critique and the manager basically played bad cop which was fine. And I remember after this I was working with this girl and we were running behind that day, to no fault of hers, and i had to come help her finish her shop so we could prepare for the customers to arrive.

And she was panicked. Saying she's really trying and she's afraid she's going to get fired and a bunch of other things as i'm helping her. And I looked at her and tell her. "Listen I've seen you're numbers recently, they aren't where they need to be but i can see you steadily increasing if you keep increasing no matter what the number is by the time management says something again. I will back you. It is okay and me helping you right now is not your fault." I found out recently she no longer shows up to work. And she basically quit. Which was probably in part due to personal issues like the fact her best friend was in coma at one point. And such. And she also got jumped in the parking lot by some girls and the police had to be called. But I can't help but to wonder if I had still been there, if she would have felt safe to keep coming back knowing that there was at least one person in charge in her corner. (now, I know for a fact there is none because I was a one man defense line)

I can't help but to think about my one coworker, one of the neurodivergent ones, who is still routinely get shit about his out of stock list despite back when I was still working there I literally showed them that his numbers averaged out to be about the same as everyone else.

I'm not going to say any of the three were perfect, they didn't always do their best and were sometimes unreliable. But did they deserve to get emotionally abused by one of the supervisors (who i reported over five times, and who also once threatened me but management refused to deal with)? No. Did they deserve to be treated like less than assets when two of them used to come in all the time on their day off to help until they got fed up with being treated like they were lesser?

I think about the time I fought against a capacity increase (literally one of the hours we could have 13 orders drop for one hour with only 2 hours to do it, and maybe 2-3 shoppers to execute it, and that's assuming we had the previous hour completed and actually had a full 2 hours). And then when it went into effect anyway despite me shoving numbers at every higher up I could about how it didn't work for what we had to work with. My one manager told me that's just how you build a business, increasing volume. So I told him it's also how you burn one down. He didn't have a reply.

I asked politely from the store manager that if we called for help, if there was no other employee who could, a manager should help us. And he returned with hedging and saying that "well if there's only one manager on duty that's not really feasible". Even when there were three managers on duty and two of them were standing around talking they did nothing. But don't worry if it was register front end drowning two managers plus a stocker would come to the rescue.

And prior to all this, prior to my Lead position, I didn't know I could be an effective and intelligent leader. Now I know I can, but absolutely no one will listen to me and will routinely talk down on me when they were so interested in me, that they fought corporate when corporate didn't want to give me the promotion and gave me a bigger raise than was protocol because they believed in me. And that belief went down the drain immediately when they realized I would not blindly fall in line.

I feel so bad that I'm no longer on the front lines defending them, and that I failed to give management one last piece of my mind like I was going to, but I know if I stayed there it would have eaten me alive and that it was slowly killing me.

I don't know where to go from here. How to live knowing I have enough intelligence to lead and be fair and nuanced, but having no where to put that to use. I don't know what to do anymore but this one haunts me.

And like I'm not gonna say I was perfect and I definitely didn't know the answers to everything. And I did have my issues. (I was angry but refused to take it out on anyone, I sometimes got so overwhelmed I had to ask someone to take over while I laid on the floor for a second to regain perspective, and I would often have to sit down because I would become light headed and dizzy from the heat outside). But at the very least I fought for them ya know?

[ctrsara]

Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, doomsday prepper. (Think about it though. He really is, just with more money and skills than anyone else…)

[outfitswithmystuff]

the difference between a personal shopper, a fashion stylist and a fashion designer

personal shopper: they will search and look for the piece you tell them to, whether its a vague description like a red dress with lace (no silhouette, no length, no brand) or a specific piece. their job is to look for it and find it.

fashion stylist: they will build outfits for specific situations, they have more often than not a unique vision, so their opinions weight heavily on the final outfit

fashion designer: they create the wardrobe pieces according to their own vision, their own style, no matter the situation.

[readymades2002]

i've put a lot of thought into how i would make this job better and more humane to work and fundamentally i think that it is not possible unless our higher-ups start being okay with Number Not Going Up and that's not going to happen. it is all about convenience for the customer. taking breaks is difficult and taking lunches is straight up not possible if you're working alone because, even aside from the workload (bonkers), customers can just show up Whenever and you Will have to take that order out to them. not much of a way around that. its just so frustrating. i've thought about talking to our union rep before, but i don't even know where i'd begin. the company is pushing this department super hard too as a growth opportunity! you can't imagine how many fucking Records have been broken orderwise the last few months and every time it happens we get an email celebrating record holiday profits like this is not a death sentence. even thinking "how would i ask for everyone to be guaranteed some kind of break without driving the other person working to madness" involves three people working at a time to split the load of shopping and of covering pickups, and if three people are scheduled then slots will be opened to reflect this and that just means more FUCKING orders can be placed and so like what is even the point!!!!!! ohhhhhh god its so bad. i need to get out of this department more than anything

[brightsuzaku]

I unfortunately am currently in Deals With People and my "Dealing With People" batteries just seem to drain more quickly, lately.

My dream "job" is to be a professional student. However, I also am still thinking about becoming one of those neat "Keeps Things Running" guys

SOMEDAY, I guess....!

Every now and then I'm reminded Real People with Actual Jobs use tumblr and I've always been legitimately curious what all you weird adults are up to when you're not on this site and with tumblr's New Poll Feature I can finally get an answer! (or the closest approximation of an answer possible with only 10 available options h a)

[greengoblinswifey]

Temple— Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— they always say “your body is a temple” and boy is nicholas’ body a temple you love to climb and worship.

warnings— PURE SMUT. fingering, hand job, oral(m receiving), unprotected sex, mirror play, spit kink, praise kink, degrading kink, body worship, ass slapping, choking, creampie, daddy kink, breeding kink, cum eating, rough sex, aftercare, fluff.

a/n— ovulating and wrote this based on these pictures because he looks so good, ugh, i NEED him. (not prof read)

You were wandering the aisles of your favorite boutique, surrounded by the chatter of other shoppers. Just as you picked up a cute dress, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fished it out, expecting a simple text, but what you saw made your breath hitch and your pussy throb.

Nicholas had sent you a picture of himself shirtless, standing in his bathroom with the light cascading down his chiseled abs, his hair slightly damp and tousled and then one with the hat you gifted him on. He looked incredible, his physique had transformed since you first started dating for his new roles, becoming more defined and muscular, and it left you utterly speechless.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip as heat pooled in your core. God, he looks good. You remembered when you first met him, he was charming and sweet, and you loved him just as he was then. But this new version of him? It ignited something deep within you. It was as if every sculpted muscle was begging for your attention, and all you could think about was how much you needed him inside you, pounding you.

The dress you were holding suddenly felt heavier as you clutched it tighter, trying to maintain your composure in the middle of the store. Your thighs clenched instinctively, and you could feel the flush creeping up your cheeks. How was it possible for someone to look that good? You found yourself blushing, desperately trying to focus on the price tags in front of you, but your mind was racing with thoughts of him.

You quickly typed back, your fingers trembling as you tried to keep it casual. “Wow, what are you trying to do to me?” You hit send, your heart racing with anticipation. He was always playful, but this felt different, this felt more personal, more intimate.

As you made your way to the cash register, you could still see him in your mind, his body the definition of perfection. You swiped his card without a second thought, the thrill of using his money adding to your excitement. If only he were here right now. You imagined him behind you, his hands resting on your hips, whispering sweet nothings as you paid.

Your thoughts swirled with desire, longing to feel his warmth against your skin, to wrap your arms around him and pull him in close. His body was a temple, you thought, it was a holy site you craved to explore.

With a final glance at the dress in your hands, you decided to head home, your mind set on what would happen once you got there. You needed him, and you could already envision the fire igniting between you two as soon as you walked through the door.

As you rushed through the front door, adrenaline surged through you. You barely took the time to drop your shopping bags before you heard the unmistakable sound of the shower turning off.

You quietly made your way down the hallway, the steam still lingering in the air, and as you approached the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of him stepping out, droplets of water glistening on his perfectly chiseled body. Nicholas looked like a god, one you craved to worship, his muscles taut and glistening under the dim light, every curve and contour accentuated.

You leaned against the doorframe, mesmerized, your breath catching in your throat. This was everything you’d imagined and more. He dried himself off with a towel, completely unaware of your presence, and for a moment, you relished the view, every single inch of him was a work of art.

But you were done watching. The heat radiating from your core was too strong to ignore, and all rational thoughts slipped away. Without a second thought, you slipped out of your clothes, leaving yourself bare and vulnerable in the dim light.

The chill of the air contrasted sharply with the heat building inside you, but it only fueled your desire further. You stepped into the bathroom, your heart pounding, and when he finally turned to face you, his eyes widened in surprise and hunger.

“Nicholas,” you breathed, your voice thick with need. You stepped closer, the space between you two disappearing as the urgency of the moment enveloped you.

“Hey baby— oh shit.”

His towel dropped to the floor, forgotten, and in that instant, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, raw, exposed, and yearning for each other.

“Oh god, I need you so bad,” you whined, your body pressed against his as you desperately kissed him all over his chest and tipped to meet his cheeks and lips.

Nicholas pulled you close, laughter in his eyes as he felt your warmth enveloping him. “What’s gotten into you, pretty baby?” he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You looked up at him, your heart racing as you felt the heat radiating off his body. “Look at you,” you replied, your voice breathless. “Walking around here looking like this, sending me pictures of you shirtless… God, what do you expect?”

With a mischievous smile, you moved behind him, admiring his tall, muscular frame in the mirror. You couldn’t help but caress his abs, fingers tracing the defined lines, marveling at the way his body felt under your touch. He threw his head back in pleasure, a low groan escaping his lips as your hands explored him.

The atmosphere shifted, the playful banter giving way to something more primal. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body responded to your every caress. His thick, long cock was painfully hard now , and you could sense the need in him building, mirroring your own.

You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him gently as you both stared into the mirror. The sight was mesmerizing, his face contorting with pleasure, the way he fell apart under your touch, completely lost in the moment.

As you continued, you watched him unravel, utterly captivated by how hot he was, how perfectly he fit into your desires.

“Look at yourself daddy, I’m making you feel so good, you look so fucking sexy,” you panted, speeding up your movements.

You bit your lip as you felt him jump and throb in your hands, everything he did made you feral. Then, with a shudder and a low moan, you felt the warmth spill onto your hand, a testament to the electric connection between you two.

“Open your eyes,” you demanded. They fluttered open and he watched in the mirror as you sucked his cum from off your fingers before lifting them up to his lips making him taste what was left of himself. He hummed in content, the sound going straight to your pussy but you would deal with that problem soon.

“No,” you said, determination lacing your voice as you looked up at him. “I need to give you more. I want to show you just how much I appreciate you.”

Slowly, you sank to your knees, eyes locked onto his as you let your tongue glide over his chest, savoring the taste of his skin. You trailed your tongue down to his abs, worshipping every ridge and contour. “You’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your voice low and sultry. “So sexy, Daddy.”

His breath hitched at your words, and you could see the effect you had on him, his body responding to your every move. You reached down, wrapping your hand around his cock again, feeling him harden beneath your touch.

“Look at how big you are,” you praised, your voice dripping with admiration. “So perfect in my hands.” You leaned closer, giving him a teasing lick, savoring the taste of him, and your eyes rolled back in pleasure at how good he tasted. “Mm, you taste amazing daddy.”

With that, you took him into your mouth, feeling him fill you completely. The sounds of his pleasure willed you on, and you began to move, sending him to the back of your throat, lost in the rhythm of worshipping him. “You taste so good,” you whispered between breaths, and Nicholas groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, urging you on.

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “You’re fucking incredible.”

You continued, letting his praises wash over you, and as you felt him hold your head down and cum down your throat, it was like fireworks exploded around you. You savored the moment, knowing you had brought him to this point of ecstasy.

You couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, feeling bold. With your fingers, you gathered the rest of his release from his hard cock and brought it to your mouth. You took it in, savoring the taste, and smeared it and your saliva over his chiseled abs. You couldn’t resist the urge to lick it all off, your body shuddering with each stroke of your tongue.

“God, you’re fucking perfect, y’know that?” he said, watching you with a mix of awe and desire. “I appreciate that, baby. But now, it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

He positioned you in front of him, hoisting one of your feet up onto the counter, giving him a better angle. “Open your mouth,” he commanded softly, and you complied eagerly, watching as he spat into your waiting mouth. You swallowed it happily, feeling the rush of satisfaction.

Nicholas trailed his finger down your body, stopping at your soaking wet pussy. As he slipped a finger inside you, you gasped, your body arching toward him instinctively. “Look at yourself in the mirror,” he instructed, his voice thick with lust. “Look how beautiful you are.”

You glanced up, eyes locking with your reflection. The sight of you, flushed and breathless, sent a thrill through you. Nicholas’ finger worked expertly inside you, curling just right, and the pleasure began to build. “That’s it, baby. You’re so beautiful when you come apart like this,” he praised, his gaze never leaving your face as he watched you surrender to the waves of ecstasy. “Let me see you feel good.”

With each movement of his fingers, the pleasure surged higher, and you found yourself lost in the sensation. “Daddy,” your moans filling the room as you finally reached your release, trembling under his touch.

“That’s it, I’ve got you baby, daddy’s got you,” he cooed, rubbing your clit fast as your body jolted and slowly came down from your high.

Nicholas trailed kisses down your neck and across your shoulders, his lips warm against your skin. “Look in the mirror, baby,” he murmured, his breath hot against you. You obeyed, your heart racing as you met your own gaze, feeling every kiss ignite your desire.

With a sudden, playful movement, he bent you over the counter, a sharp smack landing on your ass. “You look so sexy like this,” he teased, watching you wiggle your backside against him. You grinned back at him, biting your lip. “You look like a Greek god,” you shot back, and he smirked, pride flashing in his eyes.

“Oh yeah?” he replied, holding your neck gently but firmly, bringing you back against his chest. You arched into him, feeling his hard cock tease against you as he slipped inside, filling you completely.

He began to pound into you roughly, his grip on your neck ensuring you were locked onto his gaze in the mirror. “Keep those eyes on me,” he commanded, and when you felt the urge to close them, he shook you slightly. “Look at yourself!”

“Daddy, you feel so good,” you gasped, feeling the pleasure building inside you.

“Tell me more,” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me how fucking hot I am.”

You nodded, breathless, “You’re so hot, so beautiful. I love your body, daddy. I love how you look as you pound into me.”

“Such a dirty slut,” he teased, reveling in the sight of you enjoying every second. He rubbed your clit, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through you. “Look at yourself being fucked.”

With a loud moan, you surrendered to the man behind, your release washing over you as you cried out his name like it was the only word you knew.

Nicholas smirked, a glint in his eye. “I’m not done with you yet,” he declared, hoisting you up effortlessly, arms hooked under your legs. He turned you sideways, positioning you perfectly so you could watch him slam into you.

“Worship me,” he commanded, his voice deep and gravelly making you throb.

You felt a surge of excitement course through you, and you nodded, biting your lip as you gazed into his eyes. “You’re everything, Nicholas. So strong, so perfect,” you whispered, your heart racing at the power he held over you, “you’re so fucking beautiful, your body is a work of art.”

With each thrust, he drove deeper, filling you completely. “That’s it, baby. You know how to treat me right,” he growled, his tone playful yet commanding. “Show me how much you want me.”

You leaned forward, kissing him passionately, your hands roaming over his chiseled chest and arms. “I need you,” you breathed between kisses. “You feel so good. I can’t get enough daddy.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with lust. “I want to see you cum again.”

You gasped as he hit that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. “Daddy!” you cried out, feeling yourself on the edge once more. “I’m so close!”

“Then let go for me,” he urged, his eyes locked on yours, watching as the ecstasy took over. “Worship your man, baby.”

With one final thrust, you felt the familiar rush of pleasure envelop you as you climaxed, a wave of satisfaction washing over you. “Nicholas!” you cried, and he groaned in response, losing himself in the moment as he held you close, his body trembling with the intensity of it all but still not releasing.

He didn’t let you go. Instead, he laid your body down on the counter just a little, your legs wrapped tightly around him as he pounded into you once more. The world flipped upside down as you caught your reflection in the mirror, his tall frame hovering above you. The sight of him, muscles glistening and face twisted in pleasure, made your head spin.

“Who’s your daddy?” he asked, his voice thick with desire, his hand firm around your neck, exerting just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.

“You,” you gasped, barely able to catch your breath. “You look like a god, so so h-handsome.”

The feeling of being so close to him made you dizzy, and his relentless thrusts only intensified the sensation. “I’m gonna fill you up and breed you like a bitch,” he growled, and your body responded to his words, craving more.

“Please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper as you gasped for air, but the urgency in your tone said everything. “I want it. I want you. I want your cum inside me!”

He smirked, the heat of his breath against your skin sending another wave of pleasure through you. “Since you think I’m so perfect, we’re gonna make the most perfect little babies,” he teased, pounding harder, deeper. You could feel the tension building as he brought you closer to the edge once more.

With a final, powerful thrust, he filled you completely, each pulse of his hot cum sending waves of ecstasy coursing through both of you. You felt him tremble against you as he held your neck tightly, ensuring you were looking at yourselves in the mirror.

As the high faded, exhaustion washed over you. He scooped you up into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder like a baby, ironic, considering what just happened. He brought a towel to clean you up, laying you gently on the bed, his lips trailing soft kisses across your skin.

“You did so good, baby,” he murmured, pride evident in his voice. “You took me so well. I’m so proud of you. You’re so perfect, princess.”

You cuddled into him, tracing circles on his pecs as you kissed his chest, savoring the warmth and safety of his embrace. In that moment, everything felt right, the world outside forgotten as you enjoyed the afterglow of what you had just shared.

[chicshoppers]

Essere un Personal Shopper in Europa: Una professione in crescita

Negli ultimi anni la professione di personal shopper ha registrato un notevole aumento di popolarità in Europa. Sempre più persone cercano aiuto per migliorare la propria immagine personale, sia per le occasioni speciali che per la vita di tutti i giorni.

I personal shopper sono professionisti che offrono consigli ai loro clienti su come vestirsi in modo appropriato in base al loro stile, alla loro figura e al loro budget. Possono anche aiutare a trovare abiti e accessori adatti a eventi o occasioni specifiche.

Cosa fa un personal shopper?

Le responsabilità di un personal shopper possono variare a seconda del cliente e del servizio offerto. Tuttavia, in generale, un personal shopper svolge i seguenti compiti:

Analizzare lo stile e le esigenze del cliente. Il personal shopper deve conoscere lo stile del cliente per proporgli abiti e accessori che gli piacciano e che lo valorizzino. Inoltre, deve conoscere le esigenze del cliente per consigliargli un abbigliamento adatto alla sua vita quotidiana o alle occasioni speciali. Deve fornire consigli sulla figura e sulla tonalità della pelle del cliente.

Assistere i clienti nella ricerca di abiti e accessori adatti al loro budget. Un personal shopper deve essere in grado di trovare articoli di alta qualità che rientrino nel budget del cliente.

Fare acquisti per il cliente. In alcuni casi, un personal shopper può fare acquisti per il cliente, il che può essere utile per chi non ha tempo o non ama fare shopping.

Quali qualità deve avere un personal shopper?

Per essere un buon personal shopper, è necessario possedere le seguenti qualità:

Buon gusto e conoscenza della moda. Un personal shopper deve avere buon gusto e conoscenza delle ultime tendenze della moda per offrire consigli accurati ai clienti.

Apertura mentale e rispetto delle preferenze dei clienti. Un personal shopper deve essere in grado di ascoltare e rispettare le preferenze dei clienti.

Un personal shopper deve essere in grado di stabilire un rapporto di fiducia con il cliente per fornire consigli personalizzati. Essere organizzato ed efficiente. Un personal shopper deve essere in grado di organizzare il proprio tempo e i propri compiti in modo efficiente per fornire un servizio adeguato ai propri clienti.

Come diventare personal shopper?

Sebbene non esista un programma accademico specifico per diventare personal shopper, esistono corsi e workshop che possono aiutare gli individui ad acquisire le competenze necessarie per questa professione. Un'altra opzione è quella di candidarsi per un posto di lavoro presso un'agenzia di personal shopper rinomata. 

Anche l'esperienza nel settore della moda è importante e può essere acquisita lavorando in negozi di abbigliamento, partecipando a eventi di moda o assistendo un personal shopper.

Conclusione

In definitiva, quella del personal shopper è una professione entusiasmante che permette di aiutare gli altri a migliorare la propria immagine personale. Se hai buon gusto, sei organizzato e hai la capacità di ascoltare e capire gli altri, questa potrebbe essere la professione ideale per te.

[emploisdacheteurs]

Personal Shopper à Lyon : Prendre le contrôle des pavés

Lyon, la vibrante capitale de la région Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes, est un havre pour les fashionistas. Forte d'une riche histoire dans le domaine du textile et de la production de soie, la ville offre un délicieux mélange de boutiques haut de gamme, de créateurs indépendants et de charmants magasins d'antiquités. Lyon est donc un lieu de prédilection pour tous ceux qui souhaitent faire carrière en tant que personal shopper.

Mais que faut-il faire exactement pour s'épanouir en tant que personal shopper dans cette ville française chic ? Ce guide vous fournira les connaissances essentielles pour naviguer sur la scène de la mode lyonnaise et vous imposer comme un gourou du style. Vous aimez le shopping ? Si vous aimez la mode, vous pouvez devenir personal shopper chez The Personal Shopper Agency.

Maîtriser l'art de la communication avec les clients

Établir des relations : La clé du succès réside dans la compréhension de la personnalité, du style de vie et du budget de votre client. L'écoute active est essentielle pour instaurer la confiance et garantir une expérience d'achat personnalisée. Adopter le multilinguisme : Bien que le français soit la langue principale, Lyon attire une clientèle cosmopolite. Envisagez d'apprendre les bases de la conversation en anglais, en italien ou en espagnol pour répondre aux besoins des clients internationaux.

Travailler en réseau comme un pro et acquérir des compétences commerciales essentielles

Entrez en contact avec les entreprises locales : Établissez des relations avec les propriétaires de boutiques, les stylistes et les tailleurs. Ce réseau vous permet de trouver des pièces uniques, d'obtenir des réductions exclusives et d'offrir à vos clients une expérience d'achat complète.

Tirez parti des médias sociaux : Créez une présence en ligne captivante en mettant en valeur votre expertise en matière de style et les témoignages de vos clients. Utilisez des plateformes comme Instagram et Facebook pour créer un réseau local et attirer des clients potentiels.

Devenir un ninja de la gestion du temps : Jongler avec les rendez-vous des clients, programmer les courses et gérer la logistique exige des compétences exceptionnelles en matière de gestion du temps. Acceptez l'effort : Le métier de personal shopper est une aventure entrepreneuriale. Développez de solides compétences en marketing et en communication pour promouvoir vos services et vous constituer une solide clientèle. Envisagez de créer un site web ou un système de réservation en ligne pour faciliter l'accès.

Les avantages d'être personal shopper à Lyon

Travailler comme personal shopper à Lyon offre un mélange unique d'épanouissement professionnel et d'immersion culturelle. Voir la confiance de votre client s'épanouir à chaque nouvelle trouvaille est une expérience incroyablement gratifiante. En outre, vous bénéficierez d'un accès inégalé aux joyaux cachés de la mode lyonnaise et ferez partie intégrante de la communauté dynamique de la mode de la ville.

Prêt à vous lancer dans l'aventure du personal shopping lyonnais ? Avec de l'engagement, un sens aigu du style et les conseils décrits ci-dessus, vous serez sur la bonne voie.

[tiktaalic]

Girls will be like yeah so basically Taylor swift has eradicated all attempts at creativity in favor of seamlessly merging her IDENTITY to PRODUCT and I will give accolades where accolades are due. She has been very successful at this probably the most successful person on earth at this and all it cost her is her soul. And it DID cost a soul. You could make a graph between amount of streams and quality of work and see so clearly the inverse relationship materialize before your eyes. She was not born a hack but embraced the life of a hack when she realized she would be more popular with platitudes and dialing back on oversharing and being less messy. If you replace personhood with producthood you lose your humanity but your album sales go fuuuucking crazy. I can make overtures at understanding this by reminding myself she was crucified for being a person for years and years and she has been very vocal about it doing a heavy number on her psyche. Maybe when that happens to you as a teenager the trade off seems less revolting. Getting rid of something you’re mocked for having anyway and in return you are richer and more famous than anyone has any right to be. But then I scratch my head. And go but surely you see that this is a deal with the devil. Surely with the contract laid out in front of you. You gnaw your lip. You hesitate. You follow the letter of the law but skirt the spirit of it for brief shining moments. And when she’s so publicly had misogynistic vitriol levied at her. So often for so long. IS it misogynistic for your criticisms to boil down to “she’s not likable enough for me”? At what dollar amount does a millionaire going on billionaire become a public object rather than a person? Does the fact that she’s slowly revoked access to herself change this? Is it more or less human to orchestrate your life so that paparazzi only sees you on planned outings where you look impeccable and have a message to send and you are Taylor Swift The Brand after you’ve been scarred by years of being Taylor swift the young woman in the tail end of the aughts and the 2010s ripped to shreds scrutinized for every choice and smile and dress and man? Is there a passable essay in the title Taylor Swift Doesn’t Owe You Authenticity. Maybe! but doesn’t she as an artist work at a job where she’s supposed to produce. Art? It sounds like I’m asking for ballads but I’m really not I’m asking for a song that is good. Im asking for a cruel summer which is irreplicable but surely the minds behind it can produce something more than snow on the fucking beach? Or am I overestimating the continued talent of a woman who is the platonic ideal of a target shopper? Is it misogynistic to believe the platonic ideal of a target shopper can’t create with a soul? How to talk about the fall off of Taylor swift in a woman honoring way?

five minutes later. You can’t spell awesome without ME!

[emeritusemeritus]

omg! saw your requests opening, glad to see you writing and I’ve read nearly all of your works! your writing style and fics inspired me to write more and motivate me so I thank thee for that!

i didn’t know if I would be able to request something like this, but you be willing to write something for both of the Weasley twins? you come home from a bad day, it was absolutely horrendous and overwhelming and you just want to forget about it. would you be able to write both of the Weasley twins willing to blow their mind away in bed to try to make them forget about their day? 🙌

Hi lovely Anon! Thank you so much for your kind words, I’m so glad I could inspire you to write more, I’d love to read your work! I hope it’s okay that I added a little Christmas twist. Hope you enjoy! P.s. my own personal headcanon is that Angelina would become a healer after hogwarts, so I made the reader a healer too🖤

Warnings: where do I start… smut, pinv sex, graphic smut, oral (both), fingering, masturbation, slight sub/dom elements, rough sex, overstimulation. Threesomes (no twincest) Readers feeling a bit of a grinch. Healer reader. Christmas stress. Can you tell I’ve worked retail with how much I hate Christmas crowds. Not spellchecker nor beta read.

Word count: 6.7k (some of it is plot I swear)

Fairytale of Diagon Alley

You were turning into the Grinch.

It appeared that when you had kissed your boyfriend's goodbye this morning upon leaving your shared flat above the shop, you had also kissed goodbye to your good mood and any semblance of patience you had left.

There were people everywhere, the whole street of Diagon Alley was packed with frantic christmas shoppers wanting those last minute bargains, forgetting all of their manners and regular etiquette as their heads filled with 'what to get little Timmy' and how Flourish and Botts hadn't even started their sales yet, Godric forbid.

You pushed through the brainless crowds, cringing at the attention you were receiving having walked out of the closed store, protests of unfairness echoing through the street as if you were some VIP patron with early access before the store had opened.   The line of people waiting for Wheezes to open was eye watering and you felt a complex mixture of happiness and sadness for your boyfriends knowing that they would have such a busy day once again, though business would be booming and they'd inevitably make a killing. They'd been exhausted these last few weeks, working extra hours to accommodate the expanse of people whilst importing more stock than ever to see them through peak trade. They'd started the sale two days ago, an offer of buy 3 get 1 free that had skyrocketed sales and had plunged through their stock even quicker than expended, leading to more light nights spent dealing with manufacturers and suppliers to rush through more orders. They did it all with a smile, so warm and welcoming to each customer that it filled you with awe seeing them, knowing that they were running on very little sleep.

You simply huddled down, pulling your coat tighter against your collar to ward off the biting cold and pushed through the crowds with facetious attempts of politeness as you muttered excuse me repeatedly , trying to make your way out of the crowded street. Christmas music was blaring out from the cafe at the top of the street and you cringed as you walked past, the volume almost deafening.

It didn't cheer you, not today. You were just overwhelmed by the amount of people, overstimulated by the ridiculous noise of the music and the constant chatter around you as you were just trying to make your way to work for what you knew would almost certainly be another dreadful day.

You paused outside the entrance to the abandoned looking department store Purge and Dowse Ltd, heaving a heavy sigh to prepare you for the day, having successfully made it through the crowds... eventually. You loved your job usually, but something about Christmas time just seemed to make people more stupid, less careful and much more irate.

The welcome witch was unpleasant as ever as you stepped into the entrance of the building, seeing a bustling waiting room of people with various maladies and injuries that were certain to keep you on your toes today.

"St Mungo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries," the receptionist Barbara welcomed the next person waiting to be booked in, her usual overly-cheery voice ringing out along the corridor, pausing her speech to wave at you warmly as you walked past. Her hair was transfigured into a Christmas tree shape though it was leaning at the top with tinsel wrapped around for good measure and a couple of illuminated lights in her hair that were flickering on and off in an uneven pattern, which you noticed she kept trying to fix with her wand though she was largely unsuccessful.

"Ready for another fun day?" Angelina asks sarcastically as you change into your uniform, casting the usual enchantments upon the regulated clothes to protect them from all manner of horrors. Knowing that you don't have to hide your real emotions from Angelina, you sigh and let out a long whinge, resting your head dramatically on her shoulder. She laughs whilst stroking your hair, the two of you sharing a moment together as you prepare for the day, enormously thankful that at least your best friend would be on the same shift as you today, both of you successful in following your calling to become a healer.

"Just think, 12 hours to go and you'll be back fighting your way back to the flat through the Christmas crowds!"

The whinge that fell from your lips was louder and longer than the first and held nothing back of how you truly felt.

Angelina didn't need to be part seer to foresee the future but she sure got it right in predicting with almost perfect accuracy the horror of Diagon Alley upon your return. If anything, she had downplayed the horror of your return as it seemed even busier than this morning, with people covering almost every square inch of the cobbled street. You briefly wondered if everyone stood on a singular cobble, if there'd be any room at all for more people.

Children were squealing with excitement, some crying at the top of their lungs about being denied early gifts. Three boys in the corner near Fortescue's had found a small patch of untouched snow and were crafting snowballs to throw at each other though their sense of aim was way off and had instead found it much more enjoyable to cast the snowballs into the crowd to hit unsuspecting shoppers who most appeared indifferent to the attacks, probably not even noticing.

It was sheer mayhem and all you could think of was getting home, taking a bath and soaking away the stresses of your very long day. It had been none stop from the second you arrived on the ward, with new challenges and issues that often rendered you speechless. You were beyond stressed and weary, the long days and the disregulation of routine completely throwing you off. You'd barely spent any time with your boyfriends these past weeks, even after they'd employed temporary staff over the busy period. The flat was increasing in mess and clutter everyday and you found yourself caring less everyday, completely void of motivation. Presents needed to be wrapped, some still left to be bought, Christmas cards to be written, food to be ordered and collected. You needed to confirm with Molly what time you'd be arriving on Christmas Eve, the plan on everyone staying at the Burrow in their old bedrooms ready for a big family Christmas seeming more and more welcoming with each passing day as you craved simpler times, away from the stresses of an adult Christmas. You lamented the days at Hogwarts when everything was easy, when it was just you, the twins and your friends around a perfectly elf-prepared Christmas dinner with gifts that were more gestures of love before money and being an adult ruined everything.

Your feet were hurting, you were exhausted, you were sick of fighting through crowds morning and night each time you left the flat. You needed to sort the Floo network but each and every time you resolved yourself to asking Fred to have a look, you'd see him walk in exhausted and the request would fall from your lips upon seeing the deepening purple bags under his eyes. You didn't know the first thing about floo networks or where to even start on fixing it or asking someone to look so you left it alone, the entire thought process dropping from your mind the second you were home every time without fail until you were faced with the unpleasant crowd once again.

The sights and sounds of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes flooded out into the dark street like a lighthouse at sea, the bacon of light that guided you home. As overwhelmingly pleased as you were to see it in all its glory, knowing you were so close to being home you were also a little downtrodden at the sight of so many people still out shopping. The closer you got, you could see George on the third floor near the explosives section, helping yet another customer with their purchases as he pointed out various whizzbangs on the wall between Fred's blaze box and George's compendium box of pyrotechtrix. You couldn't see Fred anywhere but you could spot Verity through the window looking frazzled at the till. You snook around the back and let yourself in with the appropriate charms, begrudgingly taking each painful step up the back staircase near the storeroom to make your way to the flat, the noise and the bustle from the shop falling silent as soon as the door was closed.

You sighed in relief as you toed off your shoes and hung up your bag and coat, suddenly overwhelmed by the sheer number of layers that you were wearing as you frantically unwrapped your scarf and tugged off your hat with very little care of what your hair looked like underneath. You wanted to make a cup of tea but couldn't even muster the energy even with magic and so you walked straight to the bathroom and began running a bath, ignoring any messes you could see along the way.

You pulled off your clothes with determination, desperate to rid yourself of the day and soak in the bath full of bubbles. The bath was huge, one of the many benefits of being in love with two very tall men who had both insisted on a bathtub that could accommodate their whole bodies without question.

You lit a candle and placed it on the windowsill to illuminate the room, praying that the outline of your naked figure couldn't be seen by all of Diagon Alley.

Slipping into the hot bath felt like heaven. Your skin was pleasantly tingling from the warmth and you felt your eyes closing instinctively as you head tilted back to rest on the edge of the tub. You felt soothed, both in body and soul as you sank deeper into the water, finally finding peace in your day.

You don't know how long you are lay there floating somewhere between relaxed and dozing until you heard a gentle knock on the bathroom door.

"Well this is a welcomed sight," you hear George say as he steps into the bathroom after you'd told him to enter. He looks tired but happy, his eyes roaming over you in the bath, no doubt trying to see exactly how much of your body was covered by the bubbles. You smile, holding your hand out for him to take as you look up to him with heavy eyes.

"You should have joined me," you smile, knowing that it wouldn't have even been an option, but it was nice to think of.

"I'd have burned down the shop to have jumped in there with you," he says with a deep chuckle, perching on the side of the tub with you, his hand still holding yours.

"You're going to get wet," you say as a soft warning, eyes roaming over his work suit.

"Don't care," he replies quickly, his other hand scooping up some of the extra bubbles, eyes lighting up with mischief as he suddenly blows the bubbles back towards you. You squeal seeing the bubbles flying towards your face and flail slightly to get your face away from the incoming bubbles as George laughs.

"Hello ladies," George smirks, staring at your breasts as they become exposed by your flailing, the bubbles no longer concealing you. Your eyes widen and you scramble to cover your chest with your arms instinctively.

"Angel," he says, one brow slightly raising as he reaches to stroke your concealing arm, gently beginning to pull it away from you, though his touch is gentle enough for you to keep it there if you're uncomfortable. "I've been looking at these pretty tits for years, don't go shy on me now."

With the look in his eye and his smooth voice, you're helpless to resist and pull your arm away from your body with a slight bite of your lip. Seeing his eyes feast upon your exposed chest is instantly arousing, your naked form so vulnerable to his fully clothed self. The mood in the small room has shifted almost instantly, the calm and peaceful atmosphere now filled with a need, the tension between you both so overwhelming. His eyes are half lidded but it's no longer from tiredness as he looks up to your eyes again, pausing as if he's considering his next move before he leans forward, capturing your lips in a dangerously loaded kiss. You want to reach out for him, to run your fingers through his hair and pull him closer to you by his tie but you're wet through and you'd inevitably soak his favourite suit.

"George! Where are you, you're needed out here!" You hear Fred calling up the stairs and pull apart, a quiet sigh of disappointment falling from your lips as your shoulders sink like a deflated balloons. George growls as he pulls away, his head resting on yours with his eyes still closed, evidently we wound up and frustrated as you by the sudden interruption.

"Hold that thought baby okay? 30 minutes and we're all yours, I want you right here when I'm done."

With one last smirk and a delicate kiss placed upon your forehead, George steps out of the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

You throw your head back onto the side of the tub in frustration, arousal swirling through your body with no outlet now to relieve that need. The thought of having to wait for at least another half an hour was killing you but there was nothing you could do about it.

You tried to stay in the bath just as George had requested but you found yourself growing cold even after enchanting the water back up to the warmth of before once again but you were no longer relaxed, unable to find that sense of peace. You were too wound up, too aware of your naked body, the hardening of your nipples and the ache between your thighs that seemed to be calling out to you for relief.

You heaved yourself out of the bath with a frustrated groan, not even sure what you were annoyed at. Before George had walked in you'd been perfectly content to just lie there and put your day behind you. If Fred hadn't had called out for him, if the shop wasn't open so bloody late, if the customers would just go home. You were spiralling but didn't care, for once you just wanted the night to go how you wanted it to go, for your needs to be met and to come first for a change. Groping for the towel, you quickly dried yourself off and walked into the bedroom, cursing Merlin under your breath at the state of the room. Wardrobe doors left open with various ties scattered around as if someone had been looking for a specific one this morning and simply discarded all the rest. Your pyjamas from last night were thrown in a pile in the corner of the room, the bed wasn't made and various pieces of clutter decorated the vanity that had become a dumping ground for all three of you. You cursed again when you stepped on the corner of a pin badge, one of the many iconic 'W' badges that your husbands wore in the shop discarded on the floor. You reached for your wand and cast numerous cleaning charms, not even caring on how they would clash, just praying that they would sort out the room.

You threw on your comfiest, baggiest clothes and threw the towel towards the rough direction of the bathroom, watching briefly as it got caught up in the crossfire of the charms you'd used.

Gone were the thoughts of a quiet night or any hope of some stress relief fucking that you'd so desperately needed. Apparently your lack of sexual relief had caused you to become increasingly frustrated and short, your lip fixed into a near permanent pout as you sulked about your day. You wouldn't entertain ideas of making dinner, despite your stomachs grumbling protest and opted instead to flip down onto the sofa, pull out your book and ignore the rest of the world- especially the 'Christmas to do list' that lay infront of you almost mockingly on the coffee table.

"You were meant to be in the bath sweet girl," George says as both he and Fred entered the flat after close. Your eyes flicker up to the clock on the wall and saw that it had not been thirty minutes as promised but instead it had taken nearly double that for George to get back to you. You don't reply, only offering a noncommittal shrug as you fix your eyes back to your book, rereading the same sentence for the third time.

"Hey princess, good day?" Fred asks as he throws himself down onto the sofa beside you, arm immediately reaching across the back to where his fingers reach out to run your shoulder.

"Busy."

"Tell me about it," Fred answers, reaching up with his spare hand to undo his top button and loosen his tie, missing the true meaning of your words completely. "So what's for tea?"

You slam your book down onto the coffee table and march off towards the bedroom without a single word, barely holding in your groan of annoyance at his lack of sensitivity. It wasn't just down to you to think about meals all the time, to do the bloody shopping and start preparing a meal when you'd already worked twelve hours, having to fight through the stupid crowds morning noon and night just to go about your day. You knew they'd had a long day too but it didn't trump yours, didn't mean that they automatically got a pass from adulting because they'd been working hard because you had too.

"Angel?"

You rolled your eyes, knowing what was coming. You didn't answer, hoping that George would just go away. You didn't want sensitivity or broken promises right now, you didn't really know what you wanted but you knew that if George came in here to try and reason with you, you'd go mad.

The second he slips through the door, you know that you'd gotten it very wrong. He wasn't coming to reconcile or to ask you what was wrong to fix the issue, instead his eyes told a completely other story.

"Where did my sweet girl go?" He says, eyes fixed hard as he looks at you, suddenly seeming to be even taller than you pictured. "I kept you waiting too long."

You don't reply, knowing that you'd only say something that you'd later regret.

"I agree it was mean of me, getting you all worked up and leaving you like that, so beautiful and needy."

He knew exactly what he was doing, and unfortunately for your pride, it was working.

He moves closer to you now, his firm towering over you as you sit on the edge of the bed where you'd slumped down, neck craned to stare up at him with a look that is softening more with every passing second.

"But there question is," he says as he squats down in front of you, your eyes lining up once again as you threaten to cower under his blazing eyes and dangerous smirk. "How needy are you?"

You can't help it, your chest heaves at the very same time you have to swallow down your nervous energy, altering George to how well his words were affecting you.

"That bad huh?" You don't know if you want to slap or kiss that smirk off his smug face but all you know is that the fire from earlier had been reignited in the most sinful way possible.

"You think Freddie could help with that too?"

At the very mention of your other boyfriend, you feel your eyes widen slightly with the sudden influx of sinful possibilities crossing your mind, your need and arousal doubling as you fight the need to squirm under his forceful gaze. You nod gently, hardly daring to look away from his mesmerising eyes, your breathing rapidly increasing though it's shallow breaths only.

"You need us to fuck away your day sweetheart?" A second voice says from the side, alerting you to the presence of your other love, his eyes just as fiery as his words. You nod again, biting your lip under the scrutiny of them both.

"Words princess," Fred warns, eyes dark as he prowls over to you.

"Please," you say as if on command, submitting to them so willingly that it's almost alarming.

Their smirks are completely identical as they briefly share a look before turning back to you, stalking closer and capturing you in their arms. George attacks your lips again, his tongue snaking around your lips before mingling with yours in a sinful battle of dominance that he inevitably wins. Fred's lips attack your neck as he joins you on the bed, hands snaking around your waist and up to your breasts where he cups and squeezes with just enough pressure that you gasp onto George's lips. Your hips begin to cant on their own accord, too aroused for you to remain stationary as their hands begin to wander. George's hands replace Fred's on your breasts, his favourite place to play on the wonderland of your body whilst Fred's begin to stroke across your legs, caressing your thighs through your baggy clothes that you deeply regretted wearing.

George pulls away from your lips and tits for only a second as he rips your oversized shirt over your head, leaving your tits exposed to him once again. His eyes glaze over as he looks at your bountiful flesh, his eyes tracing the curves of your body and fixating upon your rosy nipples, so hard and aching for his mouth. You cry out when you feel Fred's big hands snaking around your waist and reaching to cup your breasts, squeezing them together and raising them up for George to take into his mouth, his full lips wrapping around your bud as his tongue pokes out to circle it seductively.

"I want you naked beautiful girl," Fred whispers in your ear, his right hand beginning to toy with the waistband of your sweatpants, long fingers edging closer to your heated core with every stroke.

"Please."

George pulls away from your breasts once again and gives you a devilish smirk as his fingers reach into the top of your waist band whilst Fred pulls you back to recline on him as he slips behind you on the bed. They share a brief look of utter mischief before George rips your sweatpants away from your body leaving you completely exposed to their eyes.

Your legs squeeze together as you look between the three of you, seeing them both still fully dressed in their suits with you wearing nothing but a smile between them, like the prey and the predators together.

Fred's lips trace the lines of your ear down to your neck and your chest rises, back arching in pleasure which seems to welcome George back to caressing your tits, his mouth latching back onto the hardened buds. He breaks away from sucking on your nipples to press a line of kisses up the column of your throat until he captured your lips in a blazing kiss once again, his hands caressing your breasts now instead of his mouth.

"Don't know about you mate, I reckon she's soaking wet for us," Fred says to George almost mockingly, as if you're not lay between them.

"Oh I know she is mate," George says as he pulls away, casting a cursory glance over at you before replying to his twin, "I can see that little pussy glistening from here."

"Ah ah ah," Fred warns with a firm grip of your thigh as your legs squeeze together to offer any relief you can find as their words catapult you towards dangerous levels of arousal.

"That was naughty," George chastises, one single finger on his right hand now trailing down the length of your body towards your core, teasing you.

"Will you be our good girl tonight?" Fred asks in your ear, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through you.

"I'll be your good girl," you say breathlessly, needing more than what you were getting.

"Then prove it," George says, standing up in front of you and undoing his belt. You watch with rapt attention as he undoes the belt, looping it out of his trousers and throwing it off to the side, nimble fingers undoing the buttons on his tweed trousers and dragging down the zip.

Your mouth waters when you watch him reach into his underwear and pull out his hard cock, already so swollen and throbbing. You force yourself to look away from the delicious sight, up into his eyes to look for his consent, seeing his eyes dark and predatory.

He holds out his cock towards you, gripping it hard in his big hands by the base, offering it for you to take. You waste no time, slipping out of Fred's grasp to crawl forwards on the bed so that your face as near perfectly aligned with your reward. You kick a tentative stripe up from the bottom of his cock towards the tip, circling the bulbous tip and moaning when you taste the faint salty liquid already leaking from his little hole. You lap it up greedily, allowing his cock to rest on your flat tongue as your lips wrap around the entire head before giving him a long and deliberate suck. The growl that you pull from his lips only makes you want to do better, to suck his harder and take him deeper. You allow your mouth to fill with saliva, knowing how sloppy he likes it, how he likes you messy. You push him deeper into your mouth, tongue working over the sensitive veins and ridges until you open your eyes, looking up at him with big, wide eyes that you know he can't resist. His mouth is open, face contorted into pure pleasure as he pants, nose scrunched up as he watches you pleasure him. He pulls away his hand now, knowing that you can take more of his length and his now free hand reaches out to stroke your hair in a way that shows his love for you even in his dominant state.

You take him deeper still, fighting off the urge to choke as you slip him into his throat, immediately rewarded by the most delicious moans and gasps from above, his hand slipping into your hair to gather it. He doesn't force you nor guide your movements but simply holds back your hair in a way that forces you to know that he holds the power here.

Fred, who had been stroking your body as you gag on his twins cock suddenly sits up, unbuckling his own belt as he moves towards you, no longer content just to sit there and watch.

You're acutely aware of your nakedness between the two men who are still fully dressed and suddenly have a desperate urge for them to be just as naked as you, to see their perfect bodies taking yours. Defying their usual expectations, you take it upon yourself to reach out for Fred's trousers, giving a slightly pull trying to silently communicate your needs whilst still pleasuring George.

"Think our girl wants something," Fred says, the smugness in his voice allowing you to almost hear the smirk upon his face.

George's fingers tap gently on your chin and you look up at him as you pull off of his cock with a resounding 'pop', his whole body fighting off a shiver of arousal.

"What does our princess want?" George says, the dominant edge to his voice almost mocking you.

You don't answer verbally, your hands reaching up to fumble with the buttons on his waist coat, wanting his naked. He's still wearing his full suit, jacket and all except for the long cock hanging free from his unbuckled trousers. Fred's equally as clothed only without his suit jacket, sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

"You want us just as naked as you sweetheart?" Fred murmurs in your ear, hands wandering again.

"Please," you say sounding desperate, "want to see your bodies as you fuck me."

"Merlin," Fred curses behind you. George's fingers instantly hook under your chin to force you to look at him and he leans down to place a blazing kiss upon your lips with so much force that it knocks you backwards, your words clearly affecting him too.

You can hardly believe your luck when as you get to watch them undress, having a moment of confused sentimentality that this was your life, that only you were in this position. They were so similar and yet so different, even as they undressed. You watched transfixed as their braces were pulled off their bodies, shirts quickly unbuttoned by long fingers and trousers pulled down their long legs until they were bare.

"Is that better sweet girl?" George mocks, moving to stand in front of you. Fred slips back behind you on the bed, maneuvering you so that he can slide in. You can feel the prominent bulge of his erection as his rests on your hip and you fight to control the urge to squeeze your legs again, feeling largely untouched. "Now because you've been so good."

"Lean back on me darling," Fred coos in your ear, handling you backwards until you're resting against his chest, head thrown back onto his shoulder.

"Let me make you feel good."

His hands slip down over your breasts, his fingers reigniting the hardness in your nipples as his gorgoeus, veiny hands cup and squeeze your supple flesh. His fingers trail down your chest and across your tummy making you squirm, hips raising on their own accord as his fingers trail down towards your dripping core.

You gasp when you feel his fingers dip lower, legs spreading wide as you allow him access. He strokes over your outer lips, barely ghosting your pussy as he teases, touching your thighs, your outerlips- simply anywhere except where you need him.

When his finger suddenly dips within your folds, collecting the juices that are freely flowing from you and beginning to draw a line right up to your throbbing clit. You cry out as he makes contact with your clip, back arching at the pleasure as he begins to circle it slowly, knowing just how you like it.

Your eyes open and you gasp seeing George sitting directly infront of you, his hand wrapped around his cock as he slowly strokes himself, eyes fixed upon your spread pussy as Fred works his magic.

You're close to the edge already, aching for it, the teasing already too drawn out. Fred senses it right away as your breath catches in your throat, hips canting as you fight back the urge and stops his ministrations. You whine at the sudden loss of contact but stop when you feel his hands on your hip.

"You need my cock darling? I'm aching for you."

"Please Freddie," you gasp, rubbing your ass against his throbbing cock, desperate to have him inside of you.

"Up baby," he instructs, tapping your hip as he kisses your cheek. You lift your hips and Fred scoots down a little, lying flat but propped up on the pillow. He reaches down and holds up his cock for you. You stay facing away from him, lying on top whilst holding your weight on your hands as you align yourself with his gorgeous length.

You can hardly contain the moans as his tip begins to penetrate you, the tip slipping in easily with the wetness between your legs. You're breathless as you push his cock further into you, slipping down until you were taking almost every inch of his cock. He's moaning and breathing heavily underneath you as he keeps a firm hold of your hips to guide you, picking you up slightly only to bring you down a second time, his entire length inside of you. You cry out in perfect synchronisation with Fred as you begin riding his cock hard, bouncing up and down in his lap.

You feel sexy, empowered and yet submissive being so spread out and naked, completely open for George's view as he sits with his cock in his hand almost drooling as he watches you get fucked.

Fred's grip is almost bruising but it only serves as a reminder of his control over you, even if you are the one on top as he stops your hips bouncing, choosing instead to pound you from below as he keeps you still, the feel of his cock overwhelming. He bares the brunt of your weight as he forced you to lean on his chest instead of your hands. His thrusts are forceful and powerful with perfect aim as your head falls back from the overwhelming pleasure, your moans and cries unable to be contained.

You whine as you feel George join you on the bed, his hands grabbing hold of your thighs as he attempts to hold some of your weight whilst keeping you spread open for them. His lips find your clit from above, tongue running over that swollen little nub, latching on giving sharp, quick sucks. You're completely done for, the pleasure taking over your entire body.

Your walls are squeezing Fred who's moaning out your name and growling from below, long fingers still brushing your hips as his thrusts get harder as he approaches his end. George's lips suckle your clit with perfect precision, doubling your pleasure and propelling you towards your orgasm in no time at all.

"I'm, I'm," you try to warn but it's pointless, your climax ripping through your body in a fit of blinding light as you scream out Fred's name, hardly able to hold your head up any longer.

You're lost in pleasure, barely registering fred's orgasm that follows yours within seconds until you feel his cum filling you to the brim, cock lodged in you so deep that you feel he's in your tummy.

He waits for you to get your breath back before slowly pulling out of you, shifting you gently so that you're almost lay beside him, his lips pressing a cool-down kiss onto your own as you feel a stream of cum slowly leaking out.

You're breathless and panting but you still need more, turning to George with expectant eyes, seeing that he's waiting impatiently for you to come back to him.

"On your knees," he commands. You sit up onto your knees and turn away from him now, looking back towards Fred who offers you a loving smile as he leans against the headboard, giving you room.

You gasp when George's hands wrap around your hips, his fingers digging into the marks that Fred had left as he pulls your ass right up to the edge of the bed and presses a hand to the skin between your shoulder blades to push your body down. Your upper half falls forward, ass high up in the air as he grips you with force, his cock already pressed up against your core.

"George," you breathe out in desperation, too worked up for teasing.

The cry that falls from your lips sounds almost non-human as he suddenly pushes forward, his entire length slipping inside your already overworked pussy. The curve of his cock drags purposely against your inner walls and your head drops down onto your arms with the force. He shows no mercy as he pounds into you from behind, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing around the room, his balls hitting your clit with every deep thrust. It's agonising pleasure and you scramble with your fingers to reach out for the duvet beneath you to ground yourself. You look up into Fred's eyes when you feel his hand entwine with yours, offering you that support you so desperately needed.

It's a delicious contrast of personality as the usual menace tenderly holds your hand tenderly in support whilst the normally more sensitive twin takes you roughly from behind. He's growling and groaning as your walls stretch and constrict with the pleasure, your body becoming quickly overstimulated as you feel tears well up in your eyes at the sheer sensory overload.

"George!" You cry out, earning a swift spank to your right bum cheek that seems to echo around the room multiple times. The force of the smack, the jarring of your nervous system and the deep growl that emits from George as your pussy clenched on him is enough to renew your arousal to heightened levels. You can feel that telltale feeling in your lower stomach rising, as if it's slowly taking over your entire body, your skin erupting in goosebumps and your hips suddenly trying to squirm against George's hold. It rises within you quickly until you're squeezing Fred's hand, clawing at the sheets and fucking yourself back onto George's cock, your orgasm erupting. You're silent this time, the slow build of the white hot heat rendering you silent.

"Fucking Merlin!" George cries out, pulling out of you and quickly pulling you down into the bed, turning you over with one slight shove to your shoulder. His fist works quickly on his cock as he looks upon your squirming body, breasts heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, legs wide open and a slight line of drool coming from your mouth. You scramble forwards, your mouth wide open for him as you look up into his eyes with a look that you know will finish him off. You watch closely as his face crumbles, eyes squeezing tightly shut as his fist moves quickly along the long column of his cock, catching against the bulbous tip that looks bright pink.

He cries out as he cums, the viscous liquid spraying your face and shooting into your waiting mouth. You taste him on your tongue, leaning forward to engulf his throbbing tip in your mouth to lick up every drop of the salty liquid that addicts you as you watch him shudder.

You fall back onto the bed in an exhausted heap, flanked by two satisfied men mere moment later who instinctively reach out to touch you, their lips pressing against your slightly sweaty hair and any skin they can reach. Fred offers you his handkerchief to wipe off your face which you gratefully accept, wiping off the quickly drying cum from your cheek.

"You did so well sweetheart," Fred murmurs into your ear, his voice soft and quiet as if speaking louder would shatter the bubble you found yourselves in.

"So good for us," George echoes, his hand reaching out to yours to entwine your fingers as you all fight to regain your usual heart rates.

You're exhausted. Unable to reply back to them no matter how many ways you want to compliment them but can't bring yourself to muster the energy to talk and so you sink down into their comforting hold in complete contentment.

"Not that I mind how it's turned out since I asked the first time," Fred suddenly says, his softness disappearing from his voice as he sounds just as mischievous as usual now. "But what's for tea?"

You smack him on the chest playfully, not wanting to answer his question.

"We could go out," George suggests. You instantly groan thinking of the crowds of people that were inevitably still shopping somewhere, all the craziness of London in general and the number of layers you'd have to put back on. You needed a bath again, cum leaking from you and onto the sheets below, your skin covered in a thin sheet of sweat and most of all you just didn't want to leave the flat again.

"We can order in," George offers, hearing your groan. "Order in and work on getting that Christmas joblist sorted, plenty we can get done before bed."

You don't answer, you simply reach down and pull the covers above your head to hide yourself, wishing it was Harry's invisibility cloak, thinking to yourself  that you'd never heard a worse idea in your life.

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[novemberheart]

Chapter 2 <- Chapter 3 -> Chapter 4

{Overview} An interaction between Kyle and Johnny opens your eyes to your roommates.

{warnings} Soapgaz!!!!! Depictions or break ins and uncomfortable situations, reader being harassed, no s/a but intimidation and stalking written

You’ve always had a hard time finding your way in life. It felt as though everyone around you just gets up everyday and knows exactly what they are going to do- what they are going to accomplish. Take your work life for example. You’ve done just about every job in the book. You’ve been a barista, you went to fashion school (for a month). You’ve been a dog walker, a nanny, a personal shopper, person stylist, you even worked at a campsite. After facing pressure from your family you finally decided to go back to school and ended up getting a degree in psychology. You completed about seven months of your supervised training before you felt like you made a mistake.

Your mentors were decent, but you always felt like they could tell you were a dropout. They offered you little support- likely knowing it would be a waste.

Lucky for you, you have an Aunt Kate. Whilst she never understood your inability to settle she supported you nonetheless. So when she heard the veterans facility down the road needed a new art therapist, who else was she to think of?

They didn’t care that you lacked some much needed and required experience. You weren’t particularly crafty, but you were a quick learner. You were hired nearly on the spot (which could be perceived as a red flag) and you quickly hopped on a plane to England(or drove).

Your first day you realized why it had been so challenging for them to fill the spot. They were insufferable. Grumpy, angry and entitled. It was like that for weeks. They would never do any activities you set up, just lash out and complain. Then one day you lost it. You yelled at them. A room filled to the hilt of 20+ veterans who stared at you, a young woman, with their eyes like saucers.

You quickly became their favorite after that.

For the first time ever you found your niche. The last thing you wanted to do was loose it. But problems arose at home. The first break in was “your” fault. You had burned some popcorn and had left the window open, forgetting about it as you popped over to the store. When you came back your microwave, TV and charging cables were gone. You couldn’t sleep for weeks after that. Every little sound caused you to fly straight up in your bed. You slept with the lights on and barricaded your door every night. You hid it from Kate and your family- not wanting to worry them. You had finally began to feel safe again and Kate invited you on a weekend away in the countryside to celebrate a pay raise for her and two months at a job for you. When you came back your door was ajar.

This time Kate was with you. You were thankful for that. Nothing was missing, but your apartment had been turned upside down. Rotted food from the fridge being left open. They had smashed all your lamps and lightbulbs. Your bed had been flipped, your sheets shredded. They had also flooded your toilet with tissue paper. It felt hateful. You had no idea if it was the same people as before or maybe your apartment was just a target now.

The outside world started to turn against you too. You never minded taking public transportation, until people seemed to recognize your pattern. One night a man who had always sat rows in front of you decided to sit right next to you, sandwiching you between the window. While his hands never touched you, he slowly scooted closer and closer and closer. You were tired of feeling helpless. You stood up and screamed. As loud of you could. It was effective. The man tumbled away from you as fast as he could and you never saw him again. You filed a report with the police- well you told them about it but who knows if it actually went anywhere.

A few days later you were followed. You had gotten on the train that morning and noticed a hooded figure that you hadn’t seen before. Just the sight of it put knots in your stomach. You made it into work and had forgotten about it, until the next morning.

You called the police later, not that you could give much of a description. You stayed with Kate in a hotel that night, spilling your guts. She remained tight lipped, trying not to scare you. She felt sick. She had always been so protective of those she loved and she felt as though she had failed.

“I might know a place you could stay. Until you get enough cash for a down payment.”

You quickly shot down the idea.

Until the third break in. It happened at night. Interestingly enough on a night you felt comfortable. It was early in the AM when the creak of the window hinges woke you up. You didn’t even need to see what was going on before you started screaming. It had become a defense mechanism now. It had worked for you before, why not now? You sprung out of bed and grabbed the bear spray that laid next to you, charging out into the living room. You refused to go down without a fight. Two large figures had just crossed the threshold and you quickly made yourself known. You grabbed the crowbar next to the bedroom door and started swinging- all while spraying bear spray and screaming. It was like something out of the exorcist, but you didn’t care. This could be life or death. One of them reached for you, but was quickly pulled away by their friend, scrambling back out the window. You didn’t stop til they disappeared down the street.

You didn’t need to call the police this time. About six of your neighbors did it for you.

You had no other options. Everything was out of your price range and you were still a paying off student loans. The few places that were available were too far away from your beloved job or in just as bad areas as the one you were in now.

You called Kate with a hoarse voice begging her for help. She didn’t hesitate.

“How’d you sleep?” John asked, just as you passed the threshold of the kitchen.

“Good, thank you.” You chirped, beginning to stuff some snacks into your bag for work. “Got most of my unpacking done, not that there’s a lot.” You sighed.

“That reminds me, we each have our days for laundry. Does Wednesday or Friday work for you?” Your lips quirked out how well organized they were. You could easily imagine how they ran at work. “Honey?” He added, shaking you out of your thoughts.

“Wednesday. Wednesday works.” You smiled. He nodded his head in affirmation going back to his bowl of cereal. “I didn’t take you to be a cereal for breakfast type of guy. You seem more like bacon and eggs.”

He chuckled, tapping the box of cinnamon flavored cereal. “Guilty pleasure. Breakfast number two comes in around nine.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, filling up your water bottle. “See you later?” You questioned. He nodded his head quickly, a raspy ‘have a good day’ escaping him.

“Sooooooo Bon. You never quite explained to us what you do?” Johnny hummed.

“Let her get in the door, Johnny. Christsakes.” Simon huffed from the couch. You slipped off your shoes placing them neatly next to a pair of work boots. Johnny felt his chest tighten at the sight. He was half tempted to race upstairs and grab his sketchbook. Your prim and proper shoes next to their beat up death boots. Just looked right.

“I’m an art therapist at the veterans center.” You replied. He pulled himself out of his head, an even wider grin spreading across his face.

“That’s sick, Bon.” He followed you to the kitchen, where you began unloading your takeout. You still didn’t know what time they cooked dinner and you didn’t want to be in their way.

“Glad you think so. I really love it, well at the beginning I hated it.” You admitted.

“Forks are in the drawer next to the fridge.” Simon said, standing up from the couch. He made his way towards the kitchen grabbing a protein bar from the pantry.

“Thank you.” You dug one out of the (of course) neatly put together drawer.

“You hated it?” Johnny pressed, sitting down at one of the stools.

“Yeah, they were so mean to me. They would seriously tell me to “fuck off.”” You gawked. Simon snorted. Your eyes glanced up to meet his, before settling on Johnnys wide eyes.

“Way to represent.” The Scot muttered. You giggled, waving a hand in dismissal.

“That was just the older class. Most of them are seventy five and up. They have no patience for anything.” You snickered. “They like me now though.”

“How’d you manage that.” Simon interjected.

“I yelled at them. You all respond very well to negative reinforcement.” You hummed.

“What about your other groups?” Johnny asked. “What are they like?”

“Well they switch out of lot. Most of my other groups are soldiers who are required to take the class, as a ‘rehabilitation’ of sorts. We mostly just try to focus on healthy coping and self regulation methods. The art is just a distraction to get down to how they really feel.” You explained, beginning to dig into your spaghetti.

The men before you softened, sharing a quick glance with each other when you weren’t looking.

“Can I take the class?” Johnny asked suddenly. Your head shot up. Your first reaction was to tell him no. You didn’t want any judgment. Then you realized how unethical it was to deny someone.

“Of course.” You scrambled. “Although I recommend you come to the old timers club that meets every Tuesday and Thursday, eight am. They love talking to people in active duty.”

A sweet smile spread across Johnny’s features as he tapped his hand against the counter.

“It’s a date then.”

You fought hard against the blush and lost.

After you finished your spaghetti you worked your way upstairs. You were at the top of them when the front door opened. You dodged out of sight, but stayed close enough so you could peak down. Kyle and John were just getting home, both wearing workout clothes. You could hear someone bounding through the house and watched as Kyle steady himself, bracing for impact. Your eyebrows nestled together, waiting. Finally, Johnny came into view, throwing himself at Kyle. You smile grin spread on your face at the affection, but quickly turned into one of shock as Johnny opened his mouth, licking from Kyle’s neck up to his cheek.

“Shove off.” Kyle gagged, wiping at his face with his own grin. “Disgusting.” He grumbled, still trying to work out of Johnny’s grasp.

“I just love you.” You faintly heard Johnny murmur. He began peppering kisses on any skin he could reach and you watched as Kyle’s muscles relax.

“Not in the hallway you two.” John spoke up, patting both men. They whined- both for different reasons, stumbling into the living room still connected. John followed after them but not before his eyes darted up the stairs. He must’ve felt eyes on them. You dodged out of the way as quickly as possible, holding your breath. You stayed still for a moment before tiptoeing to your room.

As you laid in bed you wondered how you didn’t connect the dots sooner. All the things you witnessed but didn’t think twice about. The soft glances, how they always seemed to have a hand on each other. You wanted to know the dynamics.

How did this start? Whose idea was it? Do they all fuck each other or is it just a one on one situation? Maybe the room arrangements were the answer. Based off of that it would be Kyle with Johnny and John with Simon. But John and Simon were affectionate with the other two as well.

Your mind wandered through the late hours of night. Your mind growing more and more exhausted. You could almost imagine it. Them together. Tangled together, their muscled bodies rippling from pleasure and exertion.

You assumed John would be in charge. You could imagine him making sure everyone was getting the attention they deserved. Or maybe he would want to take the back seat for once. Who would step up then? You want to say Simon just based off of his demeanor, but you think Kyle would be good in that position. He is calm, gentle, but has underlying passion in everything he does. You could also picture Johnny running the show in his own way. Or maybe you were making this kinkier than it was. Maybe it was a mutual give and take? That’s how they seemed to be. Everything from their style to personalities blended seamlessly together.

You ignored the tightening in your stomach and rolled over pressing yourself further in your cozy bed.

“Sorry about last night.” Your head perked up from your laptop, to stare at John. You stared at him expectantly, before realizing what he was talking about. So you weren’t as slick as you thought you were.

“Please don’t apologize. This is your house.” You insisted, waving him off gently. He looked a bit relieved, as he sat down from across from you, his own laptop in his hands.

“Johnny likes to make a show.” He explained, a quirk in his lips. So Johnny knew you were there? Of course they did. These were men who had years of training under their belt. To think you were being sneaky.

“Well I should be the one apologizing. Creeping around like that.” You huffed in apologies. He chuckled, softly shaking his head in disagreement.

“Not to worry, Honey.” He assured, opening up his laptop.

“If you want another show I’ll be happy to provide.” You jumped as Johnny snuck around the corner. You could feel your ears begin to burn and the only thing you could think to do was giggle. John shot him a stern look, but Johnny paid little mind. He plopped down next to John spreading out various sketchbook and opening a silver tin filled with different sizes of charcoal.

“You get that all over the table again Simon’ll get you.” John warned.

“He’ll have to catch me first.” He hummed without a worry. All of you worked in a comfortable silence. John typed away on his computer, drifting away every so often to grab a new stack of papers to work on. Johnny was zeroed in and you doubted a tornado could break his concentration. His eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted as he leaned over the table. His hands were blotched with black marks, and his tongue poked out of the very corner of his mouth. Your finger itched to rub the creases out of his brows and crows feet.

Suddenly his eyes glanced over to you, causing you to quickly shift back to your computer. You waited for him to call you out but it never came. Instead when you peaked at him over your computer he flashed you a smirk, his eyes swirling with mischief.

“Would you like to join us for dinner, Honey?” John asked, breaking your stare down with Johnny.

“Oh that’s okay. I don’t want to intrude.” You said a slight grimace on your face. The two men looked slightly offended.

“It’s Tuesday, Bonnie. It’s pizza night.” Johnny whispered like it was a secret. John nodded his head.

“We’re going to eat out back again. It’s a nice night out and we have all the ingredients.” John coerced. Your teeth sunk into your lip, your stomach twisting in hunger.

“If it’s no trouble.” You pressed. The last thing you wanted was to become a burden.

“It’s only trouble if you like pineapple on it, Bon.”

Hi friends! Hope you liked this chapter. (sorry it took so long to get up!) This was more reader based and kinda boring but it’s a necessary evil! See you next time! 🥰

[todorokies]

jjk characters as male thot jobs

including: satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, kento nanami

contents: sfw but very suggestive, jjk men acting like sluts, gn!reader but there is a fem term used once

a/n: you might not consider some of these as “thot jobs” but im here to hypnotize you ouuuuhhh *wiggles fingers around* .. this is so silly but i had a blast writing this one

☆ . . . since gojo’s brain is hardwired to find teasing others amusing and quite the pass time i could see him as a dentist. you go to your local clinic for a annual deep cleaning and this man purposely goes out of his way to make things seem inherently sensual but still manages to do his job professionally. he’ll coo and praise you for following the most regular orders “now open real nice and wide for me … that’s righttt, good girl.” and “bite down on this … mhm yes just like that, you’re doing a great job.”

he’d definitely be like the annoying ones who still try to have a conversation while knuckles-deep prodding in your mouth. “i can tell you haven’t been flossing as much as you should be, what’s up with that?” and all you can do is narrow your eyes at him. he always caress your jaw and cheek too even through the latex gloves his touches are so intimate and gentle at the end of your appointment you’ll be genuinely considering if you should fuck your dentist or not.

☆ . . . i had multiple options for geto but firmly decided on a ceramic artist. i can envision him owning a modern yet whimsical pottery studio —he wanted the modern look but nanako and mimiko insist on the whimsical interior— he offers free beginner classes twice a month. omgg the way his hands knead at the clay and skillfully sculpts on the wheel with his fingers meticulously bending, making his veins more prominent while delicately morphing the creation into a vase. he annunciates his instructions with melodic calmness but still has authority present in his tone i swearrr his voice is like honey.

you catch his eye in one of his classes and offers extended hours free of charge to help you “better your form.” he sits behind you, cradling your forearms directing your movements but still making room for you to assist your own creation. his warm minted breath tickles the back of your neck causing goosebumps “make sure to sit close to the wheel and anchor your elbows tightly against your body…” the sultry in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed with him slightly moving to your ear next “don’t be afraid to make mistakes it’s all about trial and error, darling.”

☆ . . . like the unemployed bum toji is, he seems like the type of man to pride himself as a ‘jack of all trades.’ which is why i see him in the freelancer field of work, specifically, a personal shopper. he has an app on his phone where he can either accept or deny requests. he’s quite picky with commissions when money isn’t running low, but don’t get him wrong, he’s willing to go the extra mile to please his clients. always prefers phone calls over text when discussing farther details knowing his gruff voice will have the recipient weak in the knees. he isn’t shameful to treat his full time employment as a part time hookup arrangement…if he’s lucky enough that is.

“here’s your stuff, pretty.” the quite taller and muscular man at your porch hands over a brown bag containing your groceries. you don’t miss the way his hands graze yours in the exchange, his sharp eyes examine you like you’re his prey; awaiting for your next move in a game you involuntarily started playing. words of gratitude try to slither past your lips but ultimately couldn’t: you’ve officially peaked his interest. “hey, why don’t i help you unload your items?” at that, you nodded making way for the sleazy man to enter your home and eventually your bedroom as well.

☆ . . . what differentiates nanami from the rest is that he’s unaware of how insanely attractive his profession as a baker is. he truly doesn’t understand the appeal of a man in an apron kneading dough and decorating pink frilly cupcakes. he co-owns a bakery with haibara !! they even enrolled in culinary school together. the interior is quite morden with wisteria and other succulent plants hanging from the ceiling; most of the time he’s clueless to very clear advances from others or kindly shut them down saying how he’s “not looking for anything serious” which is a lie he himself started to believe.

but on a faithful sunday autumn morning you stroll in just salivating at the thought of warm dewy chocolate filled croissants, fresh from the oven, when you see him; clad in a bulky knitted cream sweater tying a black apron around his slim waist whilst his becipes bulged slightly through the thick material of the sweater. “good morning, what can i get for you today?” one thing lead to another making you leave with not only a croissant but the blond man’s phone number —due thanks to his cheeky younger coworker, yuji, who wrote the number on your receipt including a note that read: ‘he’s soooo into you :)’

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

[materlux]

Cynefin.

Cynefin: (n.) A place where a person or an animal feels it ought to live and belong; it is where nature around you feels right and welcoming.

The Xianzhou Yaoqing arrives at a former universal trading planet, now vacant of its former prime. The General, unable to go herself, sends her most trusted advisors to inspect the planet. You are the thing they find, something with a stark resemblance to an abomination.

CW: Mention of: Injury, sort of angst like, kinda fluff too, monster!reader, 1.5k words.

Honkai Star Rail | Main Masterlist

This planet had experienced a catastrophic incident many amber eras ago, this has left its remaining life forms cut off from the rest of the cosmos. The people of this planet are, what the Genius Society would label, primitive. They do not understand the giant metal structures left behind by their forefathers, they have no knowledge of the aeons, or of the place they once occupied in the vast universe. To put it simply, it’s like someone pressed the ‘reset’ button on their civilization.

   The Xianzhou Yaoqing sits a distance away from the solar system, it’s a part of the Alliance's duties to form allyships across the cosmos, and protect the unknown universe in their ongoing war against Yaoshi, the abundance. A group of knights along with the General’s own chosen representatives, and a representative from the Skyfaring Commision, have made landfall.

   While the representative has the job of creating connections among the locals, the General’s representatives have other orders; to inspect the land and look for any possible signs of abominations. Boots thud against stone roadways, two men not clad in uniforms make their way to a market square. Tall pinkish ears twitch at every sound; sharp plum coloured eyes scan the plaza. Of course the General would only send her most trusted retainers, Jiaoqiu and Moze.

   The plaza is alight with noise, bustling with people selling and buying goods. Odd smells from local cuisine wafts through the heavy air, chatter overlaps and repetitive shouts bounce off the nearby houses. In simple terms, the plaza is overwhelming. The retainers keep close, following the flow of the crowd, asking merchants and shoppers odd questions. No good answers, most have nothing of note to offer. Except for one shady looking travelling merchant from a neighbouring town, they claim that unlike others they use the forest as a shortcut, in the forest they have seen a monster; something human, animal, and plant, all at once. The retainers thank the traveller, now this was a good lead.

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   The forest ahead is dense, giant trees sway gently in the wind, tall undergrowth plants make for great cover. Jiaoqiu trails after Moze down a dirt path, his ears flick at every rustle of leaves, Moze watches the undergrowth for movement. The locals confirmed the traveller’s claim, but they also added their own: Ghosts.

   Something small, pale, and inhuman stands in the middle of the path. Its head tilts that and this way, before its stubby legs take it towards them. Moze stops on the path to stare down at it, if not for his great hearing the foxian would have slammed right into him.

   “Moze, why did you stop?” The foxian asks.

   “A ghost.” Is the simple answer he gets.

   “Is it cause for concern?” Jiaoqiu prods.

   “I doubt it.” The shadow guard continues down the pathway, ignoring the small spirit.

   “How comforting.” If Moze could see his eyes, he’d roll them for extra effect.

   The spirit watches them leave before wandering into the undergrowth, it joins others of its kin, gathered around a large human-like body. The creature stretches and stands, mellow eyes look at the retainers in the distance, curiosity makes it follow.

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   Jiaoqiu sits back on a rock, the clearing allows sunlight to warm the air. Moze has disappeared into the undergrowth, searching the surrounding area for any clues. Leisurely the foxian waves a fan back and forth, the short bursts of air makes his hair sway. Your eyes follow the movement of the fan, they glide over his facial features. He reminds you of the locals in build, but much like you, he’s not entirely human.

   His tail, fluffy and dense, flicks from one side to the other, your own tail mimics the movement. You sit only a few feet away from him, his eyes are closed, he’s relaxed you conclude. You adjust yourself, his ear flicks, yours mimics.

   “Moze?” His voice is soft, your own ear flicks again.

   You move closer, staying low to the ground. You sit on your haunches, now right before him, you tilt your head. A hand with sharp nails reaches out, gentle as a summer’s breeze, you ghost across the skin of his hand. He flinches away, and you lean away, a low rumbling sound echoes from deep in your chest. His brows furrow, the relaxed look on his features bleeds away, giving way to concern, fear perhaps.

   “Hello?” He calls, voice no longer soft.

   “Hello?” You mimic his speech, although your voice is hoarse and the sound is muddled. The foxian considers his options, you don’t seem hostile, but your nature is still unknown. If you do become hostile, or grow bored, there’s not much he can do against you. Being unable to see your movements, if you’re armed or unarmed, based on the hand that grazed his skin, you certainly have sharp nails.

   “Moze!” He calls into the forest, it’s the best option he could come up with, the shadow guard wouldn’t have gone far.

   “Moze?” You attempt to mimic him again, this is not a word you recognise.

   In your speculation, you don’t notice the figure coming up behind you, his footsteps completely silent. A hand grabs the back of the fabric draped over your body, you’re reeled back and trapped before you even see his face. You begin to fight back, instinct kicking in, you trash around sharp nails searching for exposed skin. Various rumbling noises, akin to growling, shake your chest as you tilt your head to look back at your assailant.

   Weight presses against your back, Moze’s cold hand unwinds from the fabric and wraps around the back of your neck, pressing down. You still, fighting a hunter when they have you by the neck is a dangerous game, one wrong move and it could end you. You breathe heavy, eyes wide and staring back at his own, sharp eyes.

   “Moze?” Jiaoqiu calls in a soft voice, his head tilting down in the direction of the scuffle.

   “Yes, I’m here.” The man above you calls back, you can now conclude that he is Moze.

   “Well?” The foxian asks expectantly, his ears twitching at the bird song.

   “I think we’ve found the monster in the forest.” He gazes down at you, analysing your every feature. “Something human, animal and plant. Certainly looks like an abomination.” He looks up at the foxian. Abomination, a word you recognise, maybe you should stay quiet, for your own sake.

   “Mean.” You can’t help it, the word just slips out before you can think too much about it. Jiaoqiu laughs quietly while Moze looks down at you, you flick your tail around, clearly annoyed by the comment.

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   Having done their job, the retainers return to their ship, and you are brought along, willingly or otherwise. With bound arms you sit on the floor, the foxian sits in a chair not far from you, the other guy is nowhere to be seen. You attempt to curl up while still sitting up, this fails and you come crashing down against the metal flooring, which hurts alot when you can’t catch yourself.

   Jiaoqiu’s ears twitch at the thud, and something in his subconscious reacts to the, arguably pitiful noise you let out. You exhale a deep breath and curl up on the floor instead, feeling quite defeated at this point. The foxian stands and with slow careful steps, moves closer to your body. You let out a noise in warning, and he stops a few steps away.

   “Are you okay?” He asks, you stare up at him, unamused and wholly confused by his speech.

   “Okay,” he breathes, carefully he crouches down next to you. “That sounded like it hurt.”

   “Hurt,” you repeat, it’s a word you recognise the meaning of, and it did hurt. Jiaoqiu sits down on the floor, his head tilted towards the ceiling.

   “You know, I used to be a healer,” he reminisces, “I could help you, if only a little.” You don’t understand a word coming out of his mouth.

   The foxian reaches out a careful hand, you watch it closely as it hovers over the ground, softly it makes contact with the base of your neck. You shiver involuntarily, he moves his hand up to your hair, a gentle caress. You allow this to happen, he doesn’t strike you as intimidating. 

   The other man, Moze, walks back into the room, he looks over the scene before he sighs. “You’re not supposed to be friendly with an abomination.” You glare at him.

   “We don’t know if they’re an abomination, that’s for the Alchemy Commision to figure out.” The foxian carefully weaves his fingers through your tangled hair.

   “It looks like an abomination,” Moze counters, stepping closer to look over the man, you glare back at him.

   “Looks can be deceiving,” Jiaoqiu speaks in a soft voice, it’s soothing to your ears, they flick, one grazing the skin of his wrist. “Plus, they’re under our care for the time being.”

   “So? They’ll probably end up locked away.” Moze returns your glare, equally unamused by your presence, the small scratches he just spent far too long cleaning and wrapping are reason enough.

   “That’ll be for the General to decide.” Jiaoqiu is oblivious to your little staring match with the man looming over his shoulder. “And who knows, perhaps they aren’t of the abundance at all.” He muses, Moze scoffs and you mimic the sound.