#always 2 steps away from punching a customer

[plasticbabyart]

Its 4.30 and im crying over my model so- Spyro HC !! He worked a retail job at the Academy for some sort life outside of Hero and Prince, and tbh, he liked- it was better for him in the long run

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

butterflygirl738 (1)

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, sickness, medical bills, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You love butterflies and your mother, but life isn't that simple. As life gets complicated, and expensive, you find yourself in need and an unexpected miracle presents itself.

Characters: Steve Rogers (CEO/Sugar Daddy)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You rush off the bus, stumbling as your toe hits the curb. You stagger and right yourself, rushing by the other passengers as they shuffle along the pavement. You cut across the grass into the parking lot and hurry towards the front doors of the box store. You're just on time to punch in. 

You sweep in through the front door and wave at Claudia as she stands at the front door welcoming in customers. You flit around the displays of seasonal candy and dip in between customers and aisles until you get to the back of the store. Before you can key in the code, the lounge door opens. You back up as Drew, the store manager, steps out. 

He stops and checks his watch. He curls his lip. You're not late. Not yet. Not unless he doesn't let you through. 

"On the floor in the next minute," he demands. 

"Yes, sir," you agree. 

He steps out and lets the door fall behind him. You barely catch it as you spin through and keep the door open with your foot. You punch in your employee code. The screen blinks green. It's right on the hour. 

You toss your bag on the shelf above and hang your jacket from one of the many bent hangers. Lilian pull the door back from against your toe and huffs as she steps out. You follow her. She's worked there about two decades too long. 

You go out to your zone; with the vases, candlesticks, and lamps.  

You wander around, waiting on any customer to come by and distract you from the slow grind of time. You rove around for the fifth time and relent to your mindless urges. You take out your phone and check your notifications. A couple of hearts and shares. You smile. You don't have too much time for more than work and everything else piling up around you. Your little corner of social media is your one escape. 

A shadow steps into the same aisle as you. You hide your phone, slipping it into your back pocket, and smile at Drew doing his rounds. He marches toward you. You turn to tidy the shelf. 

"Name tag." 

You look down. "I got it..." your voice fizzles as you see the logo. It's the wrong one. "I'm so sorry--" 

"You're more than entitled to have another job but once it starts interfering with his one..." 

"It's not, sir, I'm sorry." You reach into your pocket and find your other name tag. You switch them out. "It was a long night." 

He doesn't smile. He doesn't care and you know it. You don't make excuses a lot but some things you just can't control, no matter how much you wish you could. 

"This is work." He sniffs and saunters away. 

You stare after him. Yeah, it sure is. You prefer your other job. It's always quiet in the small boutique. That's probably not a great omen for your employment but the vintage re-seller is much calmer than the corporate discount depot. Some days, you can't handle all the people. 

When you're sure the coast is clear, you take out your cell again. You hide in the corner with the decorative bowls. You rewatch your reel of the chrysalis moving ever so slightly. You're really excited for that one. You hope you didn't leave your window closed. The air gets too hot in your room. 

You flip over to your messages. You key in a quick 'how's it going?' and hit send as you hear voices. You tuck away your phone and push your shoulders back. You strut up the aisle and greet the pair of older ladies with a smile. 

"Hi, how are you today? Can I help you find something?" You ask. 

"I think we can find the discount shelf, thank you," the red-haired woman retorts flippantly and rolls her eyes at her companion. "As I was saying, Gia is coming back next month..." 

"Let me know if you need anything," you call after them softly and retreat to the next aisle. 

You give it a couple minutes before you go back to scrolling. The women chatter about their children and their husbands. They have so much going on. Happy things they couldn't be more miserable about. 

A message blips up, a small envelope in the margin. You pull down the menu and click on it. It's your mom. 

'Just woke up. Can't find my water bottle.' 

You type; 'I left a note by your bed. It's in the fridge with your dinner. Sorry if I worried you. Love you.' 

She replies with only a heart. If she just woke up, it's likely all she can manage. You return a heart of your own and put your phone away. It's no longer a doorway to distraction; it's a reminder. 

You stop just at the edge of the clothing section. If Drew catches you, he'll write you up again. You look at the pink paisley scarves hanging beside the tan purses on sale. That would look nice on mom. She needs a new one. Her cap is getting ratty. 

Well, only seven and a half more hours, a bus ride home, and you can check on her. 

🦋

The apartment is quiet as you enter. It usually is regardless of the time of day. It wasn’t always like that, but you understand why it is now. 

You sanitize your hands and turn on the living room light. Your mom is on the couch, hugging a pillow, eyes closed. She looks peaceful. Despite that, you can’t let her stay there. 

You drop your bag on the chair and near her. You gently touch her shoulder. “Mom, hey, you gotta go to bed.” 

She grumbles, “I’m fine...” 

“Mom,” you squeeze her, feeling the bone through her skin. She feels fragile. 

She hums and bats your hand away lazily. She yawns and sits up. As she does, she blinks and touches her bald head. Her eyes round and she feels around the cushions. She pulls on the floral skullcap. 

“How was work?” She asks as he keeps the pillow in her lap. The shirt that once fit her snugly, hangs over her chest loosely. 

“It was work, that’s for sure,” you say chipperly. “But I got through it.” 

“Did you eat?” She asks. 

“Did you?” You counter. 

“Some,” she shrugs. 

You nod. She’s always nauseous. The doctor said she would be. 

“Finish it,” she says. “Please, I don’t want it to go to waste.” 

“Sure,” you agree and turn to the chair. You flip open your bag and dig inside. You pull out the pink scarf, the fabric cool and sleek. “Here. It’s getting hotter out.” 

You hand her the scarf. She admires the fabric between her fingers. “It’s pretty.” 

“It’ll look great on you,” you assure her. 

“You’re too sweet, pie.” 

You smile at the nickname. She always calls you that. Ever since you stole that slice of pie in grade one after bed time. You’ll never forget your first crime. 

“I need to eat and sleep. Somewhere in there, I need to shower. Tomorrow morning, right?” 

“I can go alone.” She says. 

“No, you won’t,” you insist as you go to the kitchen. 

You go to the fridge and take out the container of grilled chicken, rice, and green beans. She had a little rice and veg but none of the chicken. You put it in the microwave. 

You go to the doorway and peer into the living room. She wraps the scarf around her naked head and ties it. She peeks over her shoulder. 

“Well? Is it a good colour for me?” 

“You always look good in pink,” you assure her. “You need anything?” 

“Yes, I need my daughter to take care of herself.” She grunts as she pushes herself up. She throws the pillow on the couch and stiffly waddles around. “I’m going to bed, okay?” 

“I’m not coddling you,” you cross your arms. “I just don’t want to hear you whining when you’re all out of joint tomorrow.” 

She sticks her tongue out at you and kisses her palm, opening it to you as she shuffles by. 

“Get some sleep. I mean it.” 

“Take your own advice,” you throw back and grin crookedly. 

She waves you off and heads for her bedroom. You watch until her door snaps shut. You look down at the floor. The silence slowly rises around you, like water it getting deeper and deeper, until you could drown in it. 

You jerk out of your trance as the microwave beeps. You spin and hurry across the small kitchen. You take a fork from the drawer and grab the container as it steams. You drop it on the counter to cool. 

You hurry into the living room and grab your phone from your bag. You return to the kitchen as you twirl the fork in your hand. That notification remains; the one that blipped in an hour from close. A familiar subject line: OVERDUE. 

In the morning. You continue to ignore it as you open up your Insta. You put the phone on your counter, leaning on the edge, and eat bite by bite as your scroll. Someone liked a few older posts from last year. That beautiful monarch you hatched and the green caterpillar on the log in the park. 

You have a red admiral. Or so you hope. It’s a particular sort of patience you need to have for the hobby. If you can call it that. 

Waiting and waiting to watch the chrysalis crack and bloom with large wings. A butterfly born and released off to flutter. It’s so beautiful but sombre at the same time. The small changes, the subtle twitch of the cocoon, it reminds you of the passing of time. Of the inevitable. 

You rinse out the container and wash the fork. You set it all away and shut off the kitchen and front room lights. You scoop up your bag in the shadows and slink to your bedroom. 

The light in there is duller. Softened to keep from affecting metamorphosis. You stretch out your neck as you drop your bag and phone. You go to the mesh hamper in the corner, covered with a dish towel on top. Through the holes you can see the sticks you set up on and angle and the cocoons hanging within. 

The curtains stir and draw you back. It’s getting cooler. You close the window and bounce onto your bed. Half of it is covered in your clutter. The crinkle of paper has you straining to fish out the envelopes. Bill, bill, bill. You’re trying. So hard. 

You toss them to the corner of the bed and fall onto your back. What if it’s not enough. You don’t think it is. The invoices outpace your checks. Your hours at work can’t measure up to those at the clinic. The chemo is draining your bank account as quickly as your mother’s body. 

You put your hands over your forehead and sigh. Your eyes sting and a wobble of tears brim along the edges. You inhale deeply and wipe away the moisture. 

No. You're not giving up. It’s too early to grieve. You won’t be doing that any time soon. You promised your mom that. 

You sit up and grab your phone. You swipe around and open the app. You have a camera inside the hamper, recording in the chrysalises. It’s tedious and dull. One of your followers suggested a stream but you worried about the cameras picking up conversations or even just running up the internet bill. Besides, what’s there to watch? 

You scan through to find the most interesting bits when you can. If there are any. You edit them into shorts and put them up on your page. People love it, much to your surprise. And you like answering questions. Sometimes, they even teach you something. 

Ten new followers that day. It’s nothing compared to the beauty influencers or the fashion bloggers; or those gamers and their cult-like fans. It’s your own little space where nothing else can touch you. Where all you have to worry about is misting the cocoons so they don’t dry out. 

There’s nothing bad there. No managers, no crowded bus rides, no doctor’s appointments, or red numbers. It’s where you can forget. It’s where you can fly. Reborn just like the butterflies. 

[i-love-ptv]

Melting 🍹࿐ ࿔.˚

Pairing: Kiara Carrera x Fem!Smoothie/Juice Bar Owner!Reader

Who knew a smoothie could bring a summer of love, Kiara surely didn’t.

Wc: 4,521

Angst if you squint? (Not sure), Fluff, Like 2 sexual innuendos.

An: PHEWW GIRLL….this is a long one. actually the longest fic I’ve ever written. Sorry if Kie is a lil ooc, i tried to do her justice 🌚.

Also!! Reader’s ethnicity n stuff isn’t mentioned, but I imagined reader as a woc (personally!!) it’s totally okay if you’re not, you’re still very much welcome :)

Feedback always appreciated!! xx

Another “are we there yettttt?” is dragged out from JJ.

“JJ, you asked me that five minutes ago, and if you ask again I swear I’m gonna punch you.” Kiara huffs out with a glare to the blonde.

John B purses his lips, “where are we going again Kie?”

“We’re going to this juice and smoothie bar my mom told me about, she basically begged me to go.”

Sarah’s walking with a pep in her step. “Am I the only one that’s actually kind-of excited to go?” She practically squealed.

“Considering that there’s a smoothie truck at nearly every corner in the Obx, yes.” Pope sighed, wanting to just sit down since it was so hot outside.

Cleo wipes the slight sweat off her forehead, “Next time, let’s bring the Twinkie, i’d rather have the shitty air conditioning than none.”

John B’s head snaps to her, looking like he’s about to say something before Kiara’s shout rips through the humid air.

“Right here! This is it!” She exclaims with an airy chuckle.

The group of pogues look at the tiki-style bar, surrounded by tables, some being occupied by other teens and families.

The banner on the shack read ‘Shelly’s Smoothies & Juice’.

“How cliche.” JJ muttered, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs by Sarah.

“Oh shut up JJ! I think it’s cute!” Sarah steps back a bit and takes a picture, Kiara throws her an amused glance.

The pogues get closer to the shack, getting a slight glimpse of all of the equipment in it, and John B rings the bell.

“Uh hello?! Thirsty, sweaty customers here!” JJ yells.

The group all groan and growl at JJ for his outburst, they’re all so distracted that they don’t see you approach the counter from the inside.

“Oh! I’m so sorry for the wait! I had to chase away a squirrel just now!” You yelp out sheepishly, feeling silly for being slightly out of breath, and for not keeping that embarrassing fact to yourself.

The group of six turns to you, their argument dying down immediately.

Sarah steps forward first, locking eyes with you.

“Ooh! Can I get a….Passionfruit smoothie please?”

You smile, taking in account her huge, beaming smile.

“Of course,” you replied, “and what about y’all?”

They each take turns telling you their orders, but Kiara doesn’t seem to care.

She can’t help but stare at you.

The way your lips move whilst you speak, the way your hair is slightly frizzy from the North Carolina heat, the way that your tan lines are peaking out from your shirt. Your lips are slightly glossy, is it crazy that she wants to know what it’s from, but she’s not interested in looking at the gloss itself?

“You okay, Curly Girl?” Your question breaks her out of her thoughts. Now she notices everyone looking at her.

Pope coughs and nudges her.

“Oh..! Right! Sorry, uhm, I’m not quite sure what I want…” She murmurs softly. God what is up with her today?

You gasp with a smile, “It’s totally okay babe! Do ya got any allergies? ‘Cos I’d love to make you a smoothie I think you’d like!”

The brown haired girl whispers out a “no I don’t have any” and you immediately get to work after collecting the money from everyone.

While JJ is resting against the counter talking to you, the rest of the pogues look at Kiara suspiciously.

“Uhm okay..So what was that?” John B asks, while Cleo looks with a smirk.

“You think she’s pretty, don’t you girl?” This makes Kiara sputter.

“What? Well, yeah she’s pretty, like obviously. But like, not in that way!”

Cleo’s smirk turns into a cocky grin, “I didn't say it was in that way.”

Kiara looks at the others for support with wide eyes, but they all just shrug at her, and Sarah slightly grins at her.

She then tunes into the conversation JJ is having with you.

“I’ve never seen you around here before, you new here?”

You let out a loud ‘huh?’ over the noise of the blender.

“I said-“ JJ tries again, which is when you finally turn the blender off.

JJ lets out a charming laugh, “I asked if you were new here. I’ve never seen you around before, and trust me, I would’ve noticed a pretty girl like you.”

“Ugh, JJ, tone it down.” Pope complained.

You giggle at him, showing off your slightly puffy cheeks.

“Nah, I moved here for the summer, ‘till late August with my Aunt Sally, this is her bar! We just finished it up last week.”

You start handing out the smoothies and juices to the others, making sure not to spill any of the sweet drinks.

They sit down at the only other unoccupied table when they see a slightly older woman, pulling up in a navy blue pickup truck.

You jog over to their table and sit yourself down.

“There’s my aunt now! Since she’s here, I can finally take my break” You drag out playfully, you continue, “Oh I totally forgot to ask, is it okay if I sit here? I don’t wanna interrupt anything, but I’d love to get to know y’all!”

They all replied happily, and you made yourself snug between Cleo and Kiara.

The group sip excitedly at their drinks, letting our groans of satisfaction at the taste.

Pope pipes up first, “Wait, so if your aunt’s name is Sally, why’s this place called Shelly’s?”

“It’s a nickname we have for her! ‘Cos y’know that one tongue twister, ‘Sally sells seashells by the seashore’, and now that I say it out loud it sounds…kinda silly..” You finish meekly.

“That’s actually kind-of cute.” Kiara whispers under her breath.

“What was that Curly?” You ask her while looking at her with a glint in your eyes.

Kiara clears her throat, “Nothing! I was just saying how good this smoothie is, mind telling me what it is?”

You beam at this, “Well I can’t tell you, silly! It’s a secret!”

The pogues continue to look at the two of you, some with quirked brows, while the rest look slyly.

“Wait! Before we go any further, I need to know everyone’s names! Mine’s ___, but you can call me Cherry.”

They all introduce themselves, JJ boasts, while Kiara tries to find her footing, but only lets out a timid “Kiara, but everyone calls me Kie”.

You look at her, like you want to say something to her, but Sarah shouts abruptly, “Oh my god, this shirt is so cute! We definitely have to go shopping one day!”

You both laugh and talk excitedly, both talking over one another, but not seeming to care. Cleo eventually joins in too.

Kiara wishes she could, in fact, she doesn’t understand why she can’t. She’s never normally been like this.

With the pogues, she’s normally confident, and sarcastic, sometimes a little cocky too.

But for some reason, she can barely give out a sentence without squealing like a mouse. It makes her sick.

She thought she was bad when she was with JJ, but they didn’t last very long last summer.

But with him, she was still normal, she never acted like this.

She’d be lying if she said she hasn’t done her fair share of questioning her sexuality throughout life, but she’d never tell anyone that.

She honestly just feels pathetic, she just met this girl today.

She doesn’t know what spell this witch has on her, but god, she wants to get to know her.

{what is this spell baby? please show some mercy.}

Kiara’s spent an entire month trying to navigate these newfound feelings. It’s July now, meaning you leave next month.

To make matters worse, everyday she learns something new about Cherry, the timid, but confident girl that makes her a smoothie every single day; speaking of which..

“Hey Curly Girl! The usual?”

“Of course!” Kiara chuckled.

You notice that the group of pogues aren’t with her, you’re not that surprised though, she’s been coming by lately without them.

A part of you is glad that she visits alone, it gives you a chance to get to know her more without the constant teasing from the others.

You can’t help but crave to know every detail about her: what hair products she uses to make herself smell so heavenly, what her bedroom looks like, what her bed feels like…

An enraged shout makes you blink and look around wildly, “If I have to wait another fucking minute for a drink, I’m gonna start breaking every appliance in there!”

You gasp sharply, looking at the tall, burly man that’s spitting his words at you, both physically and figuratively.

“Uhm..Your juice is almost done sir! Just a minute…” You croak, letting out a breathy chuckle, trying to ease the tension in the air.

You have the burning urge to chew this man out for thinking he could come to your business and disrespect you, but Kie beats you to it.

She angrily walks up to him, “Dude, fucking lay off!”

He looks at her in disbelief, his eyes bulging and his nose flaring. You could faintly see a vein start to push against the skin from how he was almost screeching.

“Get the fuck outta’ the way, you runt.” The man starts to grit his teeth.

‘All this over a fucking juice? Jesus Christ.’ You think to yourself.

Kie steps forward, now almost chest to chest with the man as she looks up at him.

She speaks lowly, “The Cameron’s are real good friends of mine, and I can easily have you ran off this fucking island you prick.”

The stranger continues to hold eye contact with the brunette, their eyes boring into the other.

He scoffs, and begins to back up, “Whatever bitch.” He snarls, grabbing his money that you put out on the counter.

Kiara continues her glaring while you finish using the blender. You giggle and look at her amused, “Woah guys, watch out…I think she’s friends with the Cameron’s.”

She snaps her head at this, “Oh shut up loser. He was such a dick, it’s insane.”

“Yeah, he literally had just got here before you did, don’t know what the fuck his problem was.”

“Welllll, you might as well drink it, don’t want the juice to go to waste and all that.” She smirks.

You chuckle, “Wow, thanks for the free drink at my own bar. Here, Curly.”

You hand her the smoothie, and you notice how she accidentally put her fingers on yours, at least that’s what she believes you think. She’s not exactly the sneakiest.

She sips on it and moans in delight, is it crazy how you wish you could hear more of those?

“Will you ever tell me what’s in here? I mean, it’s been this huge mystery for an entire month now. For all I know, you could be poisoning me.”

“Yeah Kie, I’m definitely poisoning you slowly every day with smoothies.”

You continue, “It’s fun, having you guess the flavors and stuff. You’re so determined.”

Kiara groans at this, maybe your wish is coming true today.

“C’mon, just give me a hint.” She drags out.

“Maybe one day Curly Girl.”

August.

Normally, Kiara Carrera loved August.

She enjoys summer, but the feeling of the slight chill in the air, especially at night, as the weather begins to change for the new season, provides her a sense of comfort and nostalgia.

But now, all she can feel is dread.

You’re leaving soon. In two days, to be exact.

You’re going to be leaving her soon, and she hasn’t even told you how she feels.

That’s the thing…She doesn’t know how she feels.

Everything is so different with you, but she can’t describe it, and it’s killing her.

She wants to talk to someone about it, she honestly wants to talk to you, since you understand how she feels.

She only knows this because the night before when JJ had one too many beers at the Chateau, he had blabbered out that he wanted to get to know you, more romantically, that is.

At first, you looked at him like he had grown another head. Then you explained softly, “Oh JJ, I’m flattered sweetheart, really! But, I’m just..Not into guys like that.”

Kiara swore she felt her heartbeat in her ears, and she almost missed how quickly JJ sobered up after hearing that.

He looked like a kicked puppy who was left out in the rain, but Kie couldn’t bring herself to feel bad. In fact, she felt ecstatic at that moment, she couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. Well, she refused to, anyway.

Kiara would go to JJ, given he’s a ‘Chick-Magnet’ - his words - but that would be awkward. John B and (or) Pope would end up somehow blabbing to JJ.

She tried to talk to Cleo, but it didn’t go as successful as she thought it would. All she received was a ‘just go for it!’ As if it were that easy.

So she’s left with no choice.

If you woke up and told Sarah Cameron that she’d have Kiara on her doorstep asking for advice, she would’ve laughed in your face, three separate times.

Although they aren’t at each other's throats like before, Kiara was still a little standoff-ish towards Sarah.

So when Kiara was standing at the front door of Tanny-Hill, Sarah couldn’t help but stand there with wide eyes, mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but I really need your help. I think you’ll be able to give me the best advice out of everyone…” Kiara looked down at her vans, bending her foot around on the steps as she twiddled with her rings.

“Uh..Yeah! Sure! C’mon in…” Sarah hesitated, slowly moving her body away from the door frame, allowing the brunette to enter.

Sarah walks her up to her room, not without asking Kiara if she wanted anything from the kitchen.

Kiara looks around Sarah’s room, feeling a little bit out of place since she’s the only one standing now.

Sarah looks at the girl, “You can, y’know, sit on the bed if you want.”

Kiara meekly walks over to the bed and sits down on the right of Sarah.

“I hate to sound harsh, but what exactly are you..Doing here?” Sarah asked, deciding to break the silence first.

“I need advice..”

The blonde quirks a brow at this,“Go on.”

“So, I think I like this person, but..I don’t know how to

go about it.”

“The Kiara Carrera is getting shy over a boy?” Sarah says out of shock, putting emphasis on her words.

“Ugh, that’s the thing, it’s not about a boy.” Kiara flops back on Sarah’s bed, finding comfort in the soft blanket resting beneath her head.

“It’s Cherry, isn’t it? You like her?” Sarah says trying to mask her happiness, but quickly failing due to the growing grin on her face.

There’s a beat of silence consuming the room.

“… Is it that obvious?”

“To everyone but you, yeah.” Sarah giggles.

Kiara smiles grimly, “Do you think she knows?”

Sarah looks at her with sympathy, “I think so, and even if she didn’t, that kiss didn’t look very friendly.”

The kiss.

While at the Chateau, the pogues decided to play truth or dare at the fire pit.

Cleo had dared you to kiss the person you found the most attractive, and with a bit of liquid courage in your system already, you kissed Kiara.

It wasn’t a quick peck by any means, in fact, it lasted for quite a few seconds, but Kiara wanted more.

Kiara had spent the rest of the night trying to gather her bearings, everytime she would look over to you, she’d see you looking right back at her. You would smirk and tilt your head at her.

“You still with me Kie?” Sarah asks gently, putting a hand on Kiara’s knee.

“Sorry, it’s just that like, everything’s so confusing! She flirts, I try to flirt back, but nothing ever happens! I just don’t get it!” Kiara is flailing her arms around, trying to get her point across, and her sentence trails off.

“Well, you’re just nervous. You really like her, and actually having a full-blown crush is wayyy different than just being a questioning and wondering middle schooler, Kie.”

Sarah’s dragging her finger along the curve of Kiara’s knee, trying to provide even an ounce of comfort for the girl.

After an hour-long talk between the two girls, and a tight hug, Kiara finally made up her mind and figured out what she wanted to do. She just hopes she’ll have enough time.

You get a text from Kiara, she asked you to meet her on the beach, the same beach where she taught you how to surf.

You look at the time on your phone, the 9:20 is practically blaring into your retinas.

You have to be at the dock at 7:45am, so you can get on the ferry.

The fact that your summer is over still hasn’t fully registered in your mind.

The pogues have planned a ‘goodbye’ party for you, and you’re endlessly grateful.

They've treated you with so much kindness, you felt like you were a part of the group.

You’ve made more friends than you thought you would, but you can’t help but wonder if you and Kiara [specifically] would become something more than friends.

Kiara.

Kiara.

Shit, you’re supposed to be meeting her at the beach.

You rush out of your aunt’s house, and ride your bike to the beach.

You were a little confused though, you thought that your party was going to be at the Chateau, that’s what Pope had told you.

After a bit of riding, you make it there, and you see her sitting by herself in the sand.

Kiara cycles her head around and when she spots you, she smiles.

“Howdy Curly Girl.”

Kie giggles softly at this, “Howdy.”

She pats the spot next to her, signaling you to sit down.

You lay your head on your shoulder, watching the waves glisten in the moonlight.

“So..” You drag out while drawing shapes in the sand.

She mimics you, “Soo…”

“Any…Particular reason for summoning me?”

“Uh,” There’s a beat of silence after she lets out a breathy chuckle.

She finally continues, “I kinda..Just wanted to talk to you, I suppose. Since you’re leaving in the morning ‘n stuff..”

“Yeah? You could’ve talked to me at the party babe, y’know I’ll always make time f’you.” You whisper, gazing at her, you find yourself getting lost in her deep brown eyes.

You analyze her face. She looks scared, you don’t think you’ve ever seen her so nervous.

“What’s going on Kie? Are you alright?” You ask, you’re beyond concerned at this point. She’s jittery, and fidgeting with everything in her eyesight, rather than looking back at you.

She takes a deep breath then exhales, “I was gonna tell you to turn around so I could tell you, but that’s just stupid as shit so…”

You look at her expectantly, silently urging her to continue.

“Cherry. I really like you.” She mutters.

“…..Like in a gay way?”

“Jesus Christ, yes in a gay way.”

Nothing comes out of either of your mouths.

“Took you long enough, huh Curly Girl?”

Kiara’s eyes widen, and her jaw almost drops to the sand. “Are you serious?”

You giggle, suddenly finding a rush of energy, “Yes! Oh my fucking god! I’ve been waiting for you to do something all summer. You had me thinking I was gonna go home without a girlfriend.”

Kie swears she feels her heart skip several beats, or maybe they’re doubling, she can’t even fucking tell at this point.

“Who said anything about you getting a girlfriend?” She teases.

You give her your best blank look, unable to keep it long since your body betrays you and you let out a cackle.

Kiara’s smiling ear to ear, laughing with you, when suddenly, you tackle her.

“Stop! My hair!” She yells through laughs.

After continuing fooling around, you both decide its best to head back to the Chateau.

You both get there together, side by side on your respective bikes.

You sneakily intertwine your pinkie with hers, locking it while walking through the Chateau, where you eventually see your friends.

You gasp, standing still with your mouth agape, “You guys!”

There's a banner with ‘See You Soon Cherry!’ on it, the writing isn’t very straight, it’s actually pretty damn slanted. There’s little drawing of different fruits, some smudging due to what you can only assume is paint that wasn’t dry at the moment.

There’s balloons everywhere, and your eyes eventually land on the cooler, knowing there’s a few beers in there for you.

That’s when suddenly, you hear two loud ‘pops’ and multiple colored confetti pieces cloud your vision.

You look to your left and see Sarah, you look over at Kiara and notice John B on her other side.

Your pinkies are still locked, and you’re not the only one that notices.

“Well would you look at that.” John B shouted, making the other pogues direct their eyes to you and Kiara’s hands.

Sarah jumps up and down, clinging to your shoulders, “Holy shit! Holy shit! Did it really happen?!”

You look dead at her, giving her a knowing look with a smirk.

JJ, Pope, and Cleo are rushing over while John B keeps Sarah from doing a cartwheel into a table.

JJ speaks up first, “Wait! When the fuck did this happen?!” He cried out, nearly howling. This makes both you and Kiara shrug.

There’s questions and exclamations flying everywhere, you don’t even know where to begin.

The night carries on, there’s music and lights everywhere above the hot tub.

You keep your drinking to a minimum, not wanting to be on the ferry for hours while hungover.

When you decide that it’s getting late, you declare that you’re going home.

The pogues protest, but eventually, you’re able to convince them to drive you, since your aunt’s house isn’t too far, but far enough to the point where you guys can’t walk.

Kiara walks you to the doorstep while the pogues stay in The Twinkie, they’re trying to pretend as if they aren’t eavesdropping.

“Y’know you still haven’t asked me.” Kiara bites her lip softly.

“Asked you what, Curly Girl?”

“To be your girlfriend, idiot.”

You hum at her antics, “Mm, you’re so needy, do y’know that?”

She slaps your arm playfully, yelling out a “I am not!”

You get down on one knee, being careful of the slightly rocky parts of the concrete, you hold her hands in yours, and Kiara whines.

“No you are not, you are literally unreal.”

You giggle at her, directing a ‘shush’ her way, making her roll her eyes.

“Will you, Kiara Carrera, make me the happiest girl alive, and be my girlfriend?”

Kiara puts her finger on her chin, pretending to think about it, you pinch the exposed skin of her stomach.

“Ah! Okay! Yes, yes I’ll be your girlfriend you loser!”

You get up and hug her tightly, wrapping your arms around her midsection.

She giggles into the crevice on your neck and holds you tightly.

You hear cheers and howls from the Twinkie, but you can’t take your eyes off Kiara.

You squeeze her waist one last time, and send her back to the van, not without her giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You go inside and see your aunt, smirking at you from the living room couch. You roll your eyes and begin to go to your room.

“You better tell me all about her!”

“I will!”

It’s 7:43 in the morning, you’re staring at your converses solemnly.

All of the pogues are in front of you, accompanied by your aunt.

“Are you sure you have everything, Cherry?”

You groan, “Yes, I’ve already told you a million times.” The girls snicker at you, especially Kiara.

“Not sure what you’re laughing at, Miss Thing.” You quirk a brow at your girlfriend. God, it felt so good to finally be able to call her your girlfriend.

She scrunches her face at you at first, but then her smirk drops into a deep frown. She steps forward into your embrace.

“You can totally jus’like…Stay. You don’t have to go home.”

You smile softly against her head, leaving a small peck behind. “I’m sorry my Curly Girl, but I have to

go home. I have to go to college and all that.”

John B pulls Kiara off of you, earning several shouts from the rest of the group.

“Oh shut up, I’m not gonna let Kie hog her before she’s gone for a year.”

He hugs you tightly, it makes your eyes water. He pulls back and notices your pout. “I’m gonna miss you guys so much..”

The pogues, alongside your aunt, gather around you, squeezing you tightly, whispering promises of ‘We’re gonna call and text all the time!’ and ‘We’re gonna miss you so much, it’s never gonna be the same without you’.

“Does anyone know what time it is?” You sniffle.

Kiara immediately whips out her phone, showing the time. It read 7:48.

“Okay so what if it’s not coming, does that mean you can stay forever?” JJ asks, reminding you of a child on Christmas morning.

You look over and see the ferry slowly coming towards the dock.

“It’s here JJ..”

“I know..” JJ pouts.

Cleo shouts abruptly, “Wait!”

She picks up the bag off the dock, nearly forgetting it.

“All of us put something of ours in it, so you can remember us!” She smiles warmly at you.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling, especially when Sarah swats your hand when you go to look inside the bag.

“You can’t look now, silly! You’re supposed to wait until you miss us.”

“Oh my god whateverrr.” You trailed off with a laugh.

The ferry officially stopped moving, signaling that it’s your time to go.

You look at the ship, and look back at Kiara.

You grab her face with both of your hands, stroking gently while she bats her eyelashes at you.

“You’re the reason why I had the best summer of my life. I love you Kiara.”

“I love you more ___.” Kiara croaks.

You grab her left hand, slipping off one of your rings, and putting it on her finger, you kiss it softly.

She pulls you into a passionate kiss, holding your head in place, like she’s not ready for you to go yet.

You pull back slightly, making sure you're leveled with her ear.

“Cherry and coconut.”

Kiara pushes your face back so she can look at you properly, “Huh..?”

You wait a second, watching intently as it slowly dawns on her.

You leave a kiss on her nose, and begin to walk towards the end of the dock.

Kiara faintly hears shouts of “We love you!”, her hearing’s fuzzy, and all she can focus on is you.

Cherry and coconut.

The recipe to the smoothie of love.

[dirtyvulture]

Envy and Venom - Part 3

Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.

Word count: 4990

AN: Y'all are getting fed with this one. Have fun. :)

Click here for Part 2!

Thanks to @mostlymarvelsstuff for helping with some Russian translations lol.

DAY 34

“Do you have everything ready? Your presentation, your notes?” your dad asks.

“Yes, yes,” you tell him for what feels like the thousandth time. 

“This is where the comeback starts,” your dad says, and sometimes you wish he would just claim back his title. You were sick and tired of his coaching, even if you needed it a little bit. But if Envy Industries had gotten into this mess because of you, then you were the only person who could get them out of it. “I know I can’t be there in person–”

“I know, I know,” you dismiss. You were well aware of his vacation plans to the Maldives with his new girlfriend. Besides Envy, it was the only thing he wanted to talk about nowadays. But you still didn’t even know her name, and were certain he’d find a new one before the end of his trip.

“Tony will be there with you, right? He’ll keep you on track,” your dad continues, inching into sensitive territory now. Even though he denied it every time you confronted him, you knew he was always worried about you stepping into the CEO role because you were a woman. Hearing the doubts from the public and the competition hardly bothered you, but from your own father, it was like a punch to the face. Especially when you were not exactly proving him wrong given how things had played out since your first day.

“Who cares if Tony is there or not?” you snap, losing your patience. “He’s not the one giving the presentation. He’ll just be standing behind the curtain, stealing all the free merch, and–”

“Okay, that’s enough,” your dad cuts you off. “I want you to call me again tomorrow. We’ll run over your presentation again–”

“I’ll think about it.” You slam the handset on the receiver, a satisfying motion that could not be accomplished with modern telephonic devices. You try not to give the upcoming presentation any more thought–it was already stressing you out enough. Maybe an hour in the gym would take your mind off things. 

Your decision made, you step away from your desk to your private walk-in closet, rifling through the selection of workout clothes hanging there. All of them were custom-cut to your exact body dimensions to ensure the best fit and look. Although you were no professional athlete, you treated yourself as if you were one (and you certainly looked the part). 

But right now, you couldn’t care less what you looked like or what you were wearing as you grabbed the first set of clothes you could reach, slipping them on and grabbing your Louis Vuitton gym bag, monogrammed with your initials. You lightly jog out of your office, moving fast enough that people will think you’re in a rush and not stop you. The gym is on the tenth floor of the building, and because it’s just after lunch, most people are back at their desks. But you set your own schedule, so you’re happy to find that it isn’t too crowded and you quickly get warmed up before you start lifting.

In between sets, you check your phone, a bad habit that doesn’t exist when you’re with your training coach, but he’s not around to scold you, so you can do as you please. In the tracking app, Natasha’s red dot blinks in the Upper West Side of Manhattan, hardly three miles away from your current location in Envy Industries. 

She was hanging out at Black Widow Corporation headquarters, just where you expected her to be. She had an unsurprisingly predictable schedule, splitting her time just between work and home, which you discovered was in an apartment just a few blocks down the street from yours. You wonder if she lived on her own or with her father, who was likely paying for her housing either way. 

Natasha was not quite the self-made woman that you were. Her work was significantly more behind the scenes, which was one reason why you had never heard of her before. Alexei Shostakov was the only name you associated with Black Widow Corp. But you had done your own digging on her and her family the past few days. There was frustratingly little about Natasha and you were ready to hire a private investigator due to your lack of results. 

All you had learned was that she had graduated magna cum laude from Virginia Tech with a degree in economics, where she also held a brief internship at the university’s infamous Gamma Lab before it was shut down after the sudden death of its lead researcher. You assumed she had gone immediately to work for Black Widow Corp after her graduation; there was no other work history for her anywhere. No social media, no public interviews. This woman fascinated you more and more. 

After a final set of deadlifts, you re-rack all the weights because you’re not that much of a heathen and check your phone again. Natasha is no longer at Black Widow Corp, her red dot moving steadily through 86th Street that cut through Central Park. Your heart rate jumps, and not because of your workout. You sit down on a bench to steady yourself, watching as the red dot continues through Central Park. When she turns right on Park Avenue, you know exactly where she’s heading.

Hopefully you could intercept her first.

***********************************************************************

“Where are you going?” 

Natasha curses under her breath as she turns around to see Yelena standing in the lobby, her arms crossed over her chest like a scorned mother catching her child sneaking out of the house.

“What?” Natasha rounds on her sister, annoyed that she’s been watching her like a hawk.

“The board of directors meeting starts in seven minutes,” Yelena says, and Natasha curses under her breath because she forgot all about that.

“Dad can handle it without me,” Natasha replies, eager to get the heat off of her as soon as she can.

“They’ll be talking about CES,” Yelena reminds her, referencing the important annual show where the biggest tech companies came together in Vegas to reveal their newest inventions and products.

“You’re not going to CES,” Natasha points out, surprised her sister even knows its proper name. Since the company was going to fall on her shoulders once their father stepped down, Natasha had spent almost the entirety of her adult life learning, training, and breathing business and technology. Yelena had been able to pursue her own hopes and dreams, starting in the private security field until she had enough experience (and enough of Dad’s money) to start her own company. She was happy and thriving, something Natasha was endlessly jealous of.

Yelena had never experienced the pressure of managing billions of dollars in and out the door. She didn’t know what it was like to fight off every insecure man who couldn’t bear to do a business deal with a woman. She hadn’t spent hundreds of hours trying to learn coding languages and complicated mathematics and equations on her own. Yelena didn’t understand what Natasha had spared her from, and Natasha was afraid she would never be grateful for it.

“Yes, but you’re going to CES,” Yelena says.

“You’re not my babysitter,” Natasha snaps, turning away and marching towards the door. 

“You’re going to see her again, aren’t you?”

“What?” Natasha stops. “Who the hell are you talking about?”

“That CEO you’re in love with.”

“Excuse me?” But Natasha’s face is flaming red as she struts over to confront her sister. “I am not in love with anyone. You know that.”

“You seem to be spending an awful lot of time with that CEO.”

“No, I’m not.”

Yelena smirks. “I own a private security company, sestra. You don’t think I know my own sister’s whereabouts and who she’s with?”

Natasha’s heart sinks, but she tries not to let it show. “Why can’t you ever just mind your own fucking business?” she growls, immediately regretting the harshness of her words when she sees her sister’s face fall. But she’s too proud to take it back.

“I don’t think it’s safe if you keep seeing her,” Yelena says. “And you don’t know what it could do for the company–”

“Why do you care about the company so much all of a sudden?” Natasha counters. “Dad’s not giving it to you when he steps down.”

“I don’t want it,” Yelena replies, although she looks hurt. “But to be quite honest, I don’t like what it’s turning you into.”

“Which is what?”

“This!” Yelena waves her arms at Natasha frantically. “It’s always ‘Black Widow this, Black Widow that.’ You don’t have any hobbies anymore. You never eat dinner with the rest of the family. You don’t go out unless it’s to see that CEO–”

Natasha interrupts her with a huff. “You wouldn’t understand, Yelena,” she says, trying a different approach and maintaining complete calm. “You can just stay holed up in your one-windowed office to spy on people and let the real adults go out in the real world and handle real shit.” With that, she spins on her heel and storms out of the building. 

***********************************************************************

“Why are you into shooting all of a sudden? Have you ever even held a gun before?” Tony asks, staring at you with a dropped jaw.

You shrug. “I need some new hobbies,” you lie.

“You’re not going to shoot someone with it, are you?” he half-jokes, his chuckle quickly dying up when you don’t laugh with him.

“No, of course not,” you mumble unconvincingly.

“Okay, well, when do you need the gun by?” he asks.

“How fast does Bucky work?”

Tony shrugs. “If I call him now, he can have one to me by the end of the day.”

“Okay.” The sooner the better, because it gave you less time to back out of your plan. “That works.”

“So, are we going big-game hunting in Africa this summer?” Tony asks, giving you a sharp nudge before starting his car.

“Maybe, maybe…” But you have a different target in mind.

The gun is surprisingly heavy, oily, and unfamiliar in your palm. Bucky had gone over the four “rules” of gun handling, which shocked you that he even knew:

Treat every gun like it was loaded

Don’t point it at something you aren’t willing to shoot.

Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.

Be mindful of your target and what’s around it.

He had given you a full box of ammo for “good luck” too, before jumping back into his car and driving away faster than you could read his license plate.

Currently, you sit in the darkness of your apartment, weighing the gun in your hand. Your heart is beating so hard against your ribcage you swear you can hear it. 

You check your phone. Natasha’s just parked her car in the parking garage. It should only take her a few minutes to ride the elevator up. You hadn’t even bothered to change out of your workout clothes, worried that she would arrive at your apartment before you did, but you had just barely made it on time.

Her red dot blinks in place on your screen. She’s in the elevator.

Your eyes flit to the front door, the gun feeling even heavier in your hand. 

The seconds drag on. 

You hold your breath for as long as you can between inhalations, heart pounding, ears straining for any sound of movement outside your apartment door.

Beep, beep.

A key card–yours–registers at the door lock. The handle pushes down from the outside and you snap to attention. 

Don’t miss, you tell yourself.

The door parts open, almost hesitantly, like your uninvited intruder is suddenly unsure of themselves. In the darkness, you see a figure slip through the door and close it behind her. Her body shape gives her away immediately. The thick thighs in black jeans, the curve of her hips leading up to her narrow waist, the fullness of her bosom stretching out the tight shirt she’s wearing.

When Natasha steps into the light, she freezes when she sees you sitting at the kitchen table, gun cocked in her direction.

“It’s about time you showed up,” you greet. “Building security didn’t question you when you used my key card to get in?”

“Clearly not,” Natasha says, her stance tense and wary.

“Come sit down. We should talk,” you invite, gesturing with the gun and breaking Bucky’s rule number one. Natasha stiffly walks towards you, her face an impassive shadow. You’ve never seen her genuinely scared before and it delights you that for once, you have the upper hand on her. You kick out a chair and she sits next to you. 

“Didn’t expect this, did you?” you ask. “Probably thought you could just waltz right in here and steal more of my shit?”

“Y/N–”

“Shut the fuck up.” You’re tired of listening to her excuses. You rest the gun on the table. “Is Black Widow going to CES?”

“Yes,” she says. “Like we do every year–”

“Well, there’s going to be some changes this year,” you interrupt. “Get your phone out. Call your dad. Black Widow Corp is going to be a no-show this year.”

Natasha balks. “That…That won’t be possible.”

You pick the gun back up and point it at her, breaking rule number two. “Then make it possible.”

“You won’t shoot me.”

“You don’t think this is real?” You point the gun at the table. Rule number three. You pull the trigger. Rule number four. The gun bucks in your hand, the blast reverberating around your apartment with enough power to rattle your teeth. Natasha flinches even though you hadn’t aimed anywhere near her. “No one can hear us,” you say with a chuckle. “I had the apartment soundproofed years ago to stop the neighbors from complaining.” 

She stares at the gun.

“Take your phone out now. And call your dad.” You hope you don’t have to ask again.

With shaking hands, she finally obeys, placing her phone on the table. “Put it on speakerphone,” you demand. Natasha presses a few buttons and you hear the dial-up tone.

“Privet, doch',” Alexei booms.

“English,” you hiss.

“Hi, Dad,” Natasha says, side-eyeing you uncertainly. “We, uh…We need to talk about CES.”

“Good, I just got out of the meeting with the board–”

“Black Widow can’t show up this year.”

Alexei’s surprise is palpable. “What, Natasha? What are you talking about?”

“We need to call off our appearance,” she says, her voice shaking. “Just for this year. We’ll go again next year like we normally do–”

“What’s wrong with this year?” Alexei asks.

Natasha looks at you, her eyes begging. You shake the gun to remind her you’re serious. “I…uh…I don’t think our tech is ready for the show,” she says. “You know how disastrous it can be if we unveil something that isn’t completely ready.”

“But we’ve been working on Project Transformer for months, Natasha. It’s plenty ready–”

“No. Dad, please.” She grits her teeth. “I was looking through the code last night with the engineers. There’s a bug in the programming. It’s going to take at least a few weeks to smooth out. We can’t debut right now, Dad.”

Alexei curses in Russian. “Shit. The board really liked our presentation.”

“I know.”

“I wish you would have told me earlier.”

“I know,” Natasha repeats. “But we only just discovered it this week.” 

There is more silence, punctuated by Russian grumblings from Alexei. “Okay, okay. I’ll make a few calls. Too bad we’ll be losing out on our reservation fee too.”

“It’s a small price to pay.” Natasha’s eyes dart to you again. “Sorry for all the trouble, Dad.”

“Where are you?” Alexei asks. “We missed you at the meeting.”

“I’m out.”

“Will you come to dinner tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Good, good. Proshchay, dorogaya.”

“Bye, Dad.” Alexei hangs up first.

You slowly clap your hands. “Good girl. Was that so hard?” Your chest swells with pride at your achievement. Maybe now she would have more respect for you. You know she only saw you as a piece of meat. But you were much, much more than that.

“Fuck you,” Natasha spits.

“Oh, are we still doing that?” You put the gun down on the table, this time facing it away from her. You part your legs slightly, inviting her between them. Natasha glares at you with emerald daggered eyes. “Don’t be shy, baby,” you say, your voice deepening. “I got what I wanted today. It’s only fair you don’t leave here empty-handed too.”

Natasha shoots up and marches over to you. For a second, you think she’s going to hit you, but instead she straddles your lap and kisses you so hard you’re sure she’s bruised your lips. The ferocity is both frightening and arousing as she tears off your workout shirt and shorts. She palms at your left breast roughly, sinking her nails into your abs and dragging them down to your belly button. You groan into her mouth when she bites your bottom lip. She’s never been this aggressive with you before, but you know she’s taking out her frustration on you.

And you absolutely love it.

“Now that I’m done fucking with your company, you want me to fuck you until you can’t walk?” you whisper, shoving your bare thigh between her legs. The friction from her jeans burns your skin, but you hardly register the pain. 

“You’ll have to carry me out,” Natasha says, trailing her fingers down the vein on your bicep.

“Deal.” You kiss her again, slipping your muscular arms under her thighs and standing up with her. You carry her to your bed, leaving her to undress while you grab your strap from its drawer and slip it over your legs. When you turn back, she’s shimmying off her lacy black panties and the feral urge to keep your promise overrides all your senses. 

You pick her back up and she hooks her legs around your waist, her arms circling your neck. She presses her naked chest against yours, both of you moaning in unison when your nipples brush together. You walk with her until Natasha’s back bumps into the wall, shifting her weight off your arms to the wall. You maneuver your right hand to grab onto your strap, lining it up with Natasha’s center. 

“Are you ready for me?” you ask, rubbing the tip of your cock over her soaking entrance. Natasha’s whines at your teasing, her fingers tangling in your hair and jerking at your roots painfully. 

“Fucking ruin me,” she begs.

You slam your hips forward, burying your entire cock in her in one move. Natasha screams, tearing her nails down your back. Your big hands grip onto her waist to hold her in place as you thrust into her tight heat, your abs flexing and tensing. Natasha’s body rolls with yours, her head falling back against the wall, exposing the perfect column of her neck to you. You lean forward to decorate it with your marks, so every time she undresses for the next week, she’ll be reminded of you.

The only item of “clothing” she still wears is a thin silver necklace with a rectangular charm hanging from the chain. It bounces in the hollow of her throat every time you thrust into her.

“Y/N, oh, Y/N,” Natasha chants, music to your ears as you keep your relentless pace. Your thighs, already spent from your gym session, are absolutely on fire now, so you need her to finish quickly before you drop her. You shift the angle of your hips, bumping the top of your cock against her clit with every stroke. Natasha squirms and moans, trying to find a rhythm with you, but she’s so close she can’t match you at all. 

“Tell me when you’re gonna cum, baby,” you pant. 

“Soon,” she moans. “Go harder. Don’t stop.”

You’re afraid you’re going to break her with how hard you’re thrusting into her. But finally, her body tenses in your hands and you know she’s finished all over your cock. You’re grateful to slow your thrusts as she comes down from her high, your entire body sweaty and buzzing with adrenaline. You slip your arms under her quivering thighs and stumble back to the bed, collapsing onto it with your legs hanging off the edge, Natasha panting on top of you. 

You’re not sure who’s more exhausted, you or her. You lay there unmoving, trying to catch your breath, which Natasha does before you. She sits up, slowly pulling your cock out of her and crawling up your body to kiss you messily. Her tongue slips into your mouth, but you’re too tired to return her fervor very much. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Am I too much for you?” she teases, cupping your chest and pinching your nipples. 

“No, just give me a minute,” you grumble. It was rare to meet someone with stamina like hers. And as much as you prided yourself on yours, you feel like you may have met your match with Natasha Romanoff. Your arms and chest are covered in her scratch marks, and your back still stings a little. Natasha traces the scratches gently.

“Mine,” she murmurs.

“Hmm?” you grunt, not sure if you heard her correctly.

She props herself up on your chest to look at you. “I can give you a minute,” she purrs, her voice becoming husky and seductive. Natasha slides down your body, resting her knees on the floor and tugging the harness of your strap down your legs. You can hardly lift your hips high enough off the bed to help her, embarrassed by how tired you are. Natasha grabs your calves to lift your feet up one at a time to remove the harness and throw it to the side. She rubs her hand  across your defined abdomen, stoking the fire in your belly again.

“Don’t move, baby,” she says. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Huh?” You lift your head high enough to see Natasha’s head between your legs, her mouth lowering onto you. It’s like a lightning bolt of pleasure that shoots through your core and you moan loudly in appreciation. Natasha makes eye contact with you as she slips her tongue into you, smiling as you pant and squirm. 

“Oh, God. Fuck me,” you gasp, dropping your head back on the bed. Your hands claw at the sheets as her tongue explores your walls. Natasha pushes apart your muscular thighs to make more room for her, pushing so deep into you her nose bumps against you. Your chest heaves as you struggle to breathe evenly, arching your lower back off the bed in a silent plea for more. 

Natasha eats you out like she’d been starving for a week, her tongue alternating between swirling around your throbbing clit and pushing through your clenching walls.

You finally find the strength to lift your right leg, twisting it sideways at the knee and hooking it around the back of Natasha’s head, pressing your calf against her scalp and dragging her closer. You reach down with your hand to tangle it in Natasha’s flaming red hair, pushing her down so she isn’t tempted to pull away right when you reach the edge of release. 

“Nat,” you whine. “Please, baby. You’re gonna make me cum.”

Natasha hums against you, the vibrations finally causing you to lose control. Your entire body goes limp as Natasha cleans up all the slick between your legs, then climbs back up to rest on you like you’re her personal pillow.

“Gimme a kiss,” you mumble and Natasha presses her lips to yours obediently. She tucks her head in the crook of your collarbone and you stroke her hair absently. “If I fall asleep, are you gonna leave again before I wake up?” you ask, your voice sounding small. 

“Only if you want me to,” Natasha murmurs. 

“I know I’m supposed to hate you, but I don’t know if I can,” you admit.

“Then don’t,” Natasha says. “Because I was thinking about it too, and…I think we should go public.”

“Public? Like us being…” You can’t even finish your own sentence.

“Mhmm.” Natasha nods against your chest.

“You can’t be fucking serious,” you scoff.

“No, I’m fucking you.”

“And you’re done. Right?” Your eyebrows scrunch together at the dual meaning of your words. Natasha doesn’t say anything. “At the very least, you owe me fifteen-billion-dollars before we can go public about anything,” you say, referencing the amount your company lost in the last month when Black Widow Corp pulled the rug out from under your feet.  

“Done.” Natasha searches around your bed for her phone. “What’s your bank account number?” 

“What are you doing? Seriously.” You’re a little lost now. 

“Well, our dads spent all their time fighting each other,” she says.

“Not fucking?” you joke.

“I can’t confirm that,” she says with a smirk. “But I was thinking about it. And I know Envy hasn’t been doing so well lately–”

“Because you sabotaged our contracts and stole our ideas,” you remind her.

Again, Natasha does not confirm nor deny this fact. “But what if instead of competing, we…helped each other out?”

“Like a collaboration?” you ask. Your father had specifically warned you against any kind of “collaboration” work with another company. You weren’t running a YouTube channel. You had a multibillion-dollar business. It was your responsibility to look out for the well-being of your company and your company only, damn philanthropic endeavors, personal favors, and relationships.

“We can work something out,” Natasha insists.

“Did you go through all of this just to ask me that?” you ask.

“No.” Now, Natasha looks away from you. “I mean, at first, yes. I thought you would just be a hot one-night stand. And yes, you were–” You raise an eyebrow. “–But you’re also a lot more than that.” Validation burns through your veins to hear this. “You’re smart, you know the tech, and you know how to run a business. And you’re the hottest CEO in the country and the best person who’s ever taken me to bed,” Natasha says. You think you’re going to combust at the praise. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about us. And what we could accomplish together.”

It takes a few seconds to let her words process. “I don’t know how this could work,” you say, the logical side of you taking over for once. “We’re not regular people, Nat. The future of this country is literally in our hands. The public watches our every move and criticizes every decision we make. People like us need whole PR teams to manage their relationships.”

“Fuck the PR teams,” Natasha says. “If we like each other, then why can’t we be together?”

It had been years since you had publicly been in a relationship with someone. After all, it was so much simpler to cycle through partners and not have to worry about commitment or any long-term decisions. But deep down, you were cripplingly lonely and terrified you wouldn’t be able to find someone who would settle with you. 

Because truth be told, your lifestyle was not for many. Most people couldn’t handle the pressure you were subjected to every day. The never-ending torrents of judgment. The borderline-criminal way you were stalked by reporters and paparazzi. The unreal expectations you were held to by people you’d never even met.

But out of all the people you had ever been with, Natasha Romanoff was the one with the best chance of understanding all that. She knew what she was getting herself into, because your life would be her reality the day her father passed on the company. Of course it wouldn’t hurt her to get some practice beforehand.

“I want you to be mine,” Natasha says suddenly. She reaches up to her neck, her fingers brushing the hickeys you left there, before unclipping the silver necklace. She puts it around yours, flipping the charm around so you can see that it reads “Natasha.”

“Baby…” You didn’t even care what your dad’s reaction to hearing the news would be. How would the public react? The consumers? The shareholders? At your level, it was unavoidable crossing the line between professional and personal interests. People would either cheer you on or vow to never use another Envy product again.

But Envy had been tanking ever since you took the helm. Maybe this was what you needed to bounce back…courtesy of the same woman who ruined you in the first place. The math seemed to add up–Natasha would cancel out herself, wouldn’t she?

Natasha interlaces her fingers with yours, distracting your thinking. “We could be the most powerful couple in the tech industry. In the world,” she says. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

“Yes,” you sigh, although that’s not really the truth. There was one thing you wanted more than power, money, and fame.

“Then don’t be afraid, sweetheart.” She squeezes your fingers. “With me, you’ll have everything you want and more.”

A rush of emotions suddenly overwhelms you–fear, annoyance, love, envy, and venom. You would kick yourself in the head if you missed out on the chance to be with Natasha, but you also weren’t entirely convinced this was the right move. 

“Y/N.” The way she says your voice is desperate and pleading, like she too can’t be without you.

“Okay.” You make up your mind in an instant. “Okay, baby. Let’s do it.”

Natasha beams, snuggling closer to you. The two of you say nothing further, and her steady breathing quickly lulls you to sleep. Natasha holds onto you even as she feels your body relax under her. She turns her head to look at the gun you left on the table, wondering what it would feel like in her hand, to hold against your head.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: These two are for real going to be the death of me. 😩

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[strrykais]

el amor de su vida ❤︎

you and felix were together for 2 years, twirling around the toxicity that gave each other a certain spark. but with that spark, started a flame that was burning you alive, slowly killing you. luckily chan was able to extinguish what was burning too hot.

kai’s note : what the fuck.. summary so fire im shocked, angst, hella angst. and more angst. wc : 837

back to library

Chan let out a sigh, you said this would be the place you find Felix. Gripping the bottle tight in his palms with his head hung low. Chan can’t help but feel bad. Felix wouldn’t be feeling like this if it wasn’t for him. Maybe you and Felix could’ve worked it out. As much as he loves Felix, Chan could see life slowly drain from your eyes. He couldn’t sit around and let it go on longer.

Felix brings his bottle of beer to his lips taking gulps, letting the sensation cool his scratchy throat from all the crying. Felix could hear the footsteps slowly making their way toward him. Felix slowly shifts his weight so the person coming up to him will only be able to the back of his head.

“I'll have what he is having.” Felix recognized Chan's voice, he didn’t know whether he wanted to punch him or ignore him.

“How did you know I was here?” Chan could barely hear the weak question that he was asked. Chan thanked the bartender, taking a sip of his beer. Chan rarely drinks, but at this moment he hoped that this could open up a doorway to heal his and Felix friendship.

After a few moments of silence Felix turns his head back towards Chan to see him picking at the label on the bottle. “They told you where I would be right?”

“Yes. They were worried about you.” Chan finally got a look at Felix's face. Felix always had this glow that would follow him, everywhere he stepped a room could like up. But right now in this small, smokey bar Felix looks absolutely drained. Like he spent hours going over what happened between you two. How he let you turn into a shell of a person. How he failed you. But what really shook him to his core was how could his best friend be there to pick up the pieces. How Chan can take you and ignore how he still loved you. How you moved on so quickly from a relationship that ended only a month ago.

“Let me guess you are worried too?” Felix scoffs, rolling his eyes, taking the last sips of his drink, slamming it down. Calling the bartender for another. Chan could only watch with sadness at the mess his friend has become.

“Felix man, this isn't a good coping mechanism. You need to go seek someone to talk to. You are gonna drink yourself away.” Chan reached out his hand, gently patting Felix's shoulder. Throwing Chan’s hand off of him he stands up, “Do not touch me chan.”

The bartender getting ready to stop the argument and tell them to leave. Chan just offers a soft smile and a simple wave hoping it gets the message through. The bartender nods, walking away to help the other customers.

“Sorry, I just want to make sure you are okay?”

“Ill be okay when you break up with yn. They were mine first, how could you.” Felix was starting to get frustrated, he trusted chan. He trusted you. And you both played him in his face. He felt dumb, hollow, alone.

“And look how you treated them lix. I had to save them, they were dying.” Chan could remember how full of life you were when you and felix started dating, he could remember when you started losing your spark, when you started living in the shadow of felix.

“Yeah but you ended up killing me instead. You are my best friend, do you know how painful it is to watch them fall in love with you. To watch the way they look at you how they used to look at me?”

“You can’t keep blaming me for your mistake felix. I did nothing but help them and I'm coming to you to try to help you. Please let me help you.” Chan watches the tears slip out of Felix's eyes, running down his face.

“I'm envious of you chan, because the love of my life is now the love of your life and i can’t compete with you. Just leave me alone, seeing you is just reminding me of a shit person I was and I can’t deal with that right now.” Felix sits back on the stool, drinking out his bottle tears staining his cheeks.

Chan nods, placing money on the table to cover his and Felix's tab. Chan gives one more glance at Felix hoping that he may have changed his mind. But Felix continued to ignore Chan, staring out at nothing.

Felix only looks back when he hears the doors open, he wishes he didn’t because there stood you, staring at chan hands clasped together hoping for good news. Felix could see the way your head droops, between the swinging of the door going in and out. And right before it closes, he sees it. Your smile, the one that always dazzled a room.

That is when Felix realized you are the lost of his life.

© strrykais ⋅

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[holylulusworld]

Unwanted mate (2) - Steve's version

Summary: Rejected. Humiliated. Left outside alone.

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!(fem) Reader

Warnings: angst, a/b/o, rejection, unrequited feelings, hurt reader, attack, violence, blood, angry reader, arguments

A/N: This is Steve’s version of this story Unwanted Mate (Bucky’s version)

Catch up here: Unwanted Mate

After your encounter with Steve, and his promise you had no other choice but to leave your shelter and the pack. Fury promised to protect you at all costs, but you already caused so much trouble that you didn’t want them to fight in your name.

Broken, and scared you left your old life and tried to start a new life, somewhere else. No one knows your name, or where you are from. You work at a coffee shop and try not to draw too much attention to you.

Scent blockers and suppressants get you through the day and hide your true nature. Everyone in your new life believes you are a beta. It’s better this way. Omegas are still rare, and sacred. This doesn’t mean every omega gets treated the way they serve.

Even though, your nights are still the worst. You dream of Steve, and the day he rejected you over and over again.

Sometimes you ask yourself if the last encounter with Steve was a fever dream. It feels unreal that the man rejecting you in front of two packs suddenly changed his mind.

You shake your head and look at the next customer. He’s one of these busy bees, waiting for his caffeine to kick in. You know his face. One of the few you didn’t forget immediately.

“The usual?” you ask, drawing his attention toward you, not the phone in his hands. He quirks a brow and huffs. Of course, he doesn’t remember your face. He’s an ant in a bigger system, and you don’t belong to the system.

“Coffee, black,” he hisses in your direction. You don’t know what you did wrong today. Usually he’s nicer to you, and your colleagues. “Hurry up and stop wasting my time. I must stick to a schedule.”

“Coffee, black,” repeating his order you drop your eyes. “Coming up!” You twirl around to get his order.

He’s just another alpha believing he’s above a beta. If only he knew you’re an omega in disguise. That arrogant bastard would kneel in front of you to get your attention and fulfill your every wish.

Your walk home is short. The small apartment you rented under a fake name isn’t far away from the coffee shop.

On your way, you grabbed your favorite food, and more groceries to make it through the weekend. You don’t like leaving your apartment for more than work and grocery runs. Always afraid someone will discover your true nature or that Steve will find you.

Sighing deeply, you try to ignore the man from earlier standing on the sidewalk, barking at someone on the phone.

You try to pass him by and wrinkle your nose as he snarls in the phone, calling the other person a worthless beta.

“Another worthless one,” you feel a hand on your back, and then someone pushes you. Your groceries drop to the ground, and you follow them. A cry pulls from your throat when your knees hit the cold concrete. “That’s for believing you know how I like my coffee.”

While you struggle to get back up and mourn your lost dinner at the same time, the man laughs at you. He taunts you and kicks your groceries with his polished shoes.

“You will pay for this,” you snarl, and slowly get up from the ground. Your knees bleed, and your left wrist hurts like hell, but this doesn’t keep you from using all the strength that’s left to punch his nose.

He squeaks ungracefully and immediately presses his hand to his bleeding nose. “You broke my fucking nose,” he whines as you grab the bottle of wine you dropped to hit him in the groin.

“Yeah, and no one will punish me for it,” you say as you drop the bottle to the ground. You open your bag and get a wet wipe out to remove your scent blocker.

“You think you’ll get away with hurting an alpha?” He growls. “They will arrest you. No one cares about a stupid beta.”

“Bad news for you,” you step closer to let your scent wash over him. “You just attacked an omega in public. Do you remember the law?”

He blanches and steps away from you. “No…no! I didn’t know!”

“Sir, I must ask you to step away from the woman.” An officer aims his gun at your attacker. “You are arrested for attacking an omega.”

“I told you,” you mouth at the growling man. “Officer,” you fake a sob. “I’m so glad you came. He pushed me and threatened to hurt me. I…I punched his nose to keep him from hurting me even more.”

“Home sweet home,” you sigh as you drop on your couch after another day at the coffee shop. It was a less busy day, and you’re grateful for the silence at your apartment.

After the incident with the aggressive alpha, everyone knows that you are an omega. At least your forged papers protected you from getting found.

“A very nice home you made for yourself.” You freeze and a whimper escapes your lips.

His scent fills the living room, and you stiffen as he steps out of the shadows and switches the light on.

“How did you find me?” You look at Steve, eyes widen in fear. “How did you get inside my home? What do you want here?”

“Doll,” he sighs as you move to the other side of the couch the moment he gets closer to you. “I won’t harm you.” Steve shakes his head. “You caused a lot of trouble when you left. Fury lost his position, and the rest of your pack is looking for you.”

“Fury lost his position?” You ask. “This doesn’t make sense. Why would my pack abandon their leader? I’m no one special.”

“He refused to let me redo the ritual. Fury said that I lost my chance to claim you. I-I lost control of my alpha and threatened to break the peace between our packs.” He drops his gaze, ashamed of his doings. “I didn’t mean it, doll. You have to believe me. But, if you don’t come back, they will ban Fury and your parents.”

“How dare you, Steven Grant Rogers!“ You jump off the couch to jab your index finger into Steve’s chest. “You humiliated me without a reason. I stood in front of you, vulnerable and naked. I never felt so broken before.”

Steve tries to say something, but you shake your head. “No, Rogers. You won’t have a say in this any longer. We have rules for a reason. I was there, ready to become your omega and to submit to you completely. In. Any. Way.”

“Doll,” he tries to calm you, but you won’t have it. You slap his hand away when he reaches out for you to touch your cheek.

“You don’t even remember my name!” You snap at him. “Stop calling me doll! I’m not a pet, or your lover. You’ll never be anything to me but the alpha rejecting me.”

You wipe your wet eyes and take a deep breath. “Get out of my apartment!”

“I cannot leave without you,” he whispers. “If I go, your pack would come for you and force you to come back. I try to protect you.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” you snarl and bare your teeth at Steve. “You rejected me and tried to pressure Fury into handing me over to you like a piece of meat. Who do you think you are?”

“I know you hate me now,” he says, “but I’m the only one standing between you and your pack. If the order doesn’t get restored, your pack will lose control sooner rather than later. They need Fury as their leader. So, I’m begging you to come with me.”

“No,” you confidentially say. “If you want to prove that you are here to protect me, and help Fury, you’ll stay here with me.”

“D-Y/N,” he licks his lips. “We can’t…”

“We can and will,” you growl. “And I will call Fury. I don’t trust anyone but him…”

Part 3

[wannaeatramyeon]

Fem!reader Isekai in Lookism ?

Anon, so sorry I'm answering this exactly 3 months later. You're my last request from May and I was soooo close to deleting it because I have had exactly zero ideas. Then I got partly inspired by @honeyhotteok fic here and now I'm running on less than 3hrs sleep in work and it's your fault. Oh yeah, and I've completely twisted the ask as well. It's not even close. So all that wait was for nothing 🙇🏻‍♀️

Adventures of YOUR part time job in the Lookismverse

G/N. You work the graveyard shift in a convenience store. You meet bizarre characters on different nights. Part 2

There's something wrong with people your age these days.

Everyone seems to be either in a gang or up to some shady shit. Seriously what is going on. Is this all a big joke that only you aren't in on?

Just the other day you swear you saw a group of guys in boiler suits punch through some walls across the street. Like what the fuck? What did the wall ever do to you? And then someone apparently called Tabasco starts chanting something about Burn Knuckles and oh my fucking god it's 11pm please shut up.

Oh course you never said that, you still have some sense of self preservation.

And how does anyone even have the time for all this. Between school and this part time job, you barely have enough hours to sleep.

You miss Daniel, the coworker who you haven't seen for a good year but used to gossip into the early morning with. He always seemed a bit nervous and fidgety when you voiced your concerns and observations, but you just assumed he was a nervous and fidgety kinda guy.

There would have been some fun stories to share. Instead now you work the graveyard shift on your own.

.

.

Case in point, the guy standing in front of you looks like one bad conversation away from a mental breakdown.

And really you're not in the habit of checking out customers but he cuts a striking figure. Every exposed inch of skin besides his face inked, and (you silently ask for his forgiveness for the objectification) the biggest chest you have ever seen. What even is this guy eating? What is this guy injecting? Lifting?

The question is almost out of your mouth but then you see the look in his eyes and slam your lips shut.

Nevermind. You ring his purchases through and tell him to have a good night.

.

.

You're restocking the shelves when you notice a guy with a scar across his lip and nose, dripping blood from god knows where all over your freshly mopped floor.

Which is alarming in itself but come on man. Look at the floors. You're making it so fucking gross.

He notices you watching him, gives you an apologetic look and says he'll take care of it.

He makes a quick call and in comes 26 guys, one after the other and they line up in front of him.

You know it's exactly 26 because you counted all 26. And you've also watched all 26 pairs of dirty shoes trample over your previously nice clean floor.

The blood drippy guy asks politely for the mop and bucket and you think this must be some sort of prank because why the hell is this even necessary. 26 guys to share your one solitary mop and bucket and to clean a goddamn floor that you managed in 10 minutes.

"Get out." He blinks at you, taken aback by your tone. "Or I'm calling the police."

.

.

"You can bring your pups in!" You call out to the emo teen lurking outside.

Health and safety be damned because look how fucking cute these dogs are!

He hesitates but then the rain grows heavier and all three rush in.

You miss the suspicious glance he gives you, too fixated on how adorable the dogs are. You don't even mind their wet fur or muddy paws because look at these little babies!

And huh, this guy must really love them too with his, you squint, God? Dog? hoodie on. D'aww that's so stinking sweet.

.

.

Damnit, you knew these two would be trouble the moment they stepped foot into your store.

The tall blonde just gives off a distinct creepy vibe and the shorter one has his entire eyebrows shaved off.

Shaved. Off.

You couldn't help but stare when you put their purchases through and noticed some regrowth and stubble. Is this a trend you missed out on? Either way you're glad because there's no way you're shaving off your own eyebrows.

They converse in Japanese, not even saying a word to you. No thanks or anything, which is fine you suppose. But then they pay you in fucking yen.

They're out the door by the time you see the cash and fuck. Your boss is going to go apeshit when he finds out.

.

.

"What do you think, sweetheart?"

A new blonde guy addresses you tonight and for crying out loud, you just want a quiet shift.

What do you think of his white suit? With the garish LV logos? That it's tacky as fuck. That anyone with any sort of taste would never ever wear that. You keep your actual thoughts to yourself and instead just say it's fine.

That does nothing to subdue the blonde. He does stop talking to you though, and just mutters bitterly under his breath. You catch the words blind and tasteless.

His partner smirks at your response.

And isn't that a whole other kettle of fish because it's currently 2am and you're indoors and who the hell wears sunglasses right now. You think he's a douche of the highest calibre.

The smirk is wiped from his face when he asks for cigarettes and you ask for ID. He doesn't have it on him.

"No can do. No ID, no sale."

He leans aggressively into your space, and reveals his eyes peering over his sunglasses.

My god, what is up with this duo? One with the tacky suit, and this one with the ugly black contact lenses.

You don't budge and the guy is dragged out by the blonde cackling.

Ugh. That laugh gives you a headache for the rest of your shift.

.

.

You really wish customers would stop involving you in their conversation.

This one, who looks exactly like how you would imagine a SoundCloud rapper that has their mother following them and no one else, asks you to listen to his music.

He insists that he's good as the blonde girl rolls her eyes.

You listen to about 10 seconds and make up your mind.

He's wrong. He's very wrong. You want to suggest he gets checked out at the doctor because clearly his ears aren't working properly.

Instead, you mention you like Duke Pyeon, he's more your taste. Has he heard of him? It's the wrong thing to say though because this guy looks angrier than you've ever seen anyone.

"Don't start Vin, I've seen you listening to his music." The girl scoffs.

'Vin' shouts in indignation and storms off with his friend trailing closely behind.

.

.

"Can I help?" You ask with your customer service voice and customer service smile.

He has been standing in front of the hair dyes for a good ten minutes as his friend looks increasingly bored and you can't blame him.

"No thanks, I'm just browsing," he responds and you tell him you'll be just over there if he needs anything.

You kill some time playing on your phone, look up, and both of them are still in the exact same spot.

The one with the H on his neck looks about ready to tear his hair out.

"Come on bro, just pick one!"

"No Warren, this is important. I need it to suit my new aesthetics."

You shrug and return back to your kitty kat restaurant game.

.

.

"Cool glasses," you tell the guy walking around the store and he looks affronted at first before realising you're being sincere and gives you a small smile instead.

You wonder if you can pull off orange tinted glasses too or whether you'd just look like an idiot. It's probably the latter you decide when you ring up his energy drinks.

"I'm a boxer," he offers, as if you're judging the amount of caffeine he's going to slam down.

"Ok?"

"I need it for my training."

"Sure."

You've seen weirder purchases and weirder combinations. The people coming in looking frantic and buying a single plunger or pack of toilet paper never fails to make you chuckle.

To be honest the amount he's buying is a bit nuts, and you wonder if he's going to drink it all in one go. You probably wouldn't sleep for a year if it was you.

"Enjoy your training," you say, heaving and handing over the bag of 19 cans.

.

.

A mute blonde gestures at you

You try to use some sign language, but he looks at you as if you're crazy. At least you think he does but you can't see his eyes.

Somehow you're able to decipher he's lost his dogs. Four. Golden retrievers. And he asks if you have seen them.

(Huh. Do you have telepathy? Do you have the gift?)

You tell him no and he sprints out.

You spend the rest of your shift trying to move things with your newly discovered psychic powers.

Spoiler: you have zero powers. Zilch.

.

.

You think you might be having a stroke.

Because on what planet did this K-pop idol think the disguise would work. Cap and mask on but tufts of pink hair poking out and dressed completely in white.

It's like he's asking for attention and for people to ooh and aah over who that could be.

As he leaves, you shout that you can't wait for his next album. He turns around in complete shock that you recognised him, as if you solved the world's hardest puzzle.

It's a good job that DG has such a pretty face because what an idiot.

.

.

You hear two voices mention the words Daniel Park and your ears perk up, wondering if it's about your old colleague.

Nah. You're just being silly. It's not an uncommon name at all and too much of a coincidence.

"I haven't seen Daniel in ages! Have you heard from him, Zoe?"

"No," you see her friend shake her head from the corner of your eye.

The brown haired girl tilts her head in thought, "I wonder how Zack is doing too. I haven't seen him in so long."

"Ohhh~ you miss him!"

"O-of course I do! He's a friend!" She blushes bright red and you chuckle to yourself.

'Friend', sure.

For the rest of the shift, you reminisce about how you used to tiptoe around your feelings with your boyfriend, Taehoon, too.

[cyoa-ooo]

Chapter One: A Stumble Through the Morning

The city street pulses with restless energy, a chaotic blend of honking cabs and chattering strangers that sets your nerves on edge. You shuffle along the sidewalk, your faded backpack slung over one shoulder, its frayed straps mirroring your fraying confidence. Your thrift-store sneakers snag on a crack, and you stumble—typical you, always one misstep from a catastrophe. The oversized hoodie you’re buried in can’t hide the way you shrink into yourself, a beta male loser fading into the urban haze. Work looms like a storm cloud, a soul-crushing office job where you’re just a target for snarky coworkers and a boss who could patent the word *Karen*.

You keep your eyes fixed on the pavement, dodging the purposeful strides of people who seem to have their lives scripted by some cosmic rom-com director. Your mind churns—bills stacking up like bad choices, a landlord’s email about that leaking ceiling, and the quiet ache that you’re running out of time to be… someone. But then, a flicker of warmth cuts through the gray drizzle—a cozy cafe tucked between a pawn shop and a bodega, its windows glowing like a promise you’re too scared to believe in.

You slow, your breath hitching. The cafe’s charm is almost cruel, with its chalkboard sign touting cinnamon mochas and fairy lights twinkling against the gloom. And there she is, behind the counter, the barista who’s hijacked every daydream you’d never confess. Her brunette ponytail swings gently as she moves, catching the light like polished chestnut, tied with a simple scrunchie that somehow looks perfect. Her natural good looks hit like a punch—clear, freckle-dusted skin that glows without a hint of makeup, wide hazel eyes that sparkle with a mischievous warmth, and a dimpled smile that could melt asphalt. Her apron hugs her frame, hinting at soft curves, and she moves with a bubbly grace, chatting with a customer, her laugh a bright chime over the cafe’s indie playlist. She’s the kind of cute that feels unfair, like she stepped out of a feel-good movie, effortlessly stealing the scene. To her, you’re invisible. To you, she’s a spark, a painful reminder of everything you’re not—vibrant, magnetic, *wanted*.

Your heart does that pathetic flutter, like it’s begging for a starring role in a sappy novel. You’ve never spoken to her, not once. The thought alone makes your palms slick with nerves, a mix of thrill and dread. Work’s ten minutes away, and being late again means Karen’s wrath—probably a public lecture, her voice sharp enough to draw blood. But the cafe door is right there, its bell jingling like a dare. You could step inside, order a drink, maybe catch a flicker of her smile. Or you could linger outside, watching her from the safety of the sidewalk. Hell, you could even ditch work, hop on a random bus, and chase the wild rush of doing something—anything—bold.

Your sneakers scuff the pavement, your pulse pounding. The city keeps spinning, but you’re stuck, teetering on a choice that feels like it could rewrite your story… or break it.

Choose Your Path

What do you do next? Vote for one of the following options:

1. **Keep walking to work**, swallowing your nerves and bracing for another day of office drudgery and Karen’s venom.

2. **Enter the cafe and order a drink**, risking a clumsy exchange with the brunette barista or a chance to feel alive.

3. **Linger outside the cafe**, watching her from the shadows of the sidewalk, but opening yourself to awkward stares.

4. **Hop on a random bus**, skipping work and chasing a reckless escape that could lead to freedom or chaos.

*Note: The story will continue based on the most-voted option. Cast your vote on the blog and check back for the next chapter!*

[morganski-19]

Steddie Week Day 1: Pining

@steddie-week

part 2

Steve hates when Eddie came into the store. He would just wander around the shelves with no purpose, snarking at the romance movies or looming over the horror section, scaring customers away. And sure, it wasn’t his fault that the people of Hawkins still looked down on Eddie and thought he was guilty when he wasn’t. But it certainly didn’t help that he only shot back their insults and looks, taking every opportunity to make devil horns and flip off passersby. 

The main thing he hates when Eddie came into the store though, was how he could never seem to get anything done. It was either answering questions he didn’t know the answer to about a random movie Eddie wanted to know everything about. Feilding comments from other customers and explaining that, no he can’t ask an innocent man to leave the store. Rearranging movies that Eddie would move around just to mess with Steve, even if the new placement made more sense than before. 

But more importantly, Steve could just not stop himself from staring. It was like his mind was so entranced with the enigma that is Eddie Munson that he could not think of anything else. He couldn’t explain the way his insides knotted up every time Eddie shot a smile or the urge to run his fingers through his hair to make sure it didn’t look out of place. His words would get caught in his throat and sentences became studdered and short. Warmth would rush to his cheeks at the small compliments Eddie would shoot his way and the small wink whenever a cute girl would walk through the door. 

But Steve didn’t want the cute girl. No, he wanted Eddie. 

It was something he recently realized on one of the late nights when he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. He kept thinking about what it would be like for another person to be there with him so he’d have someone to talk to. Someone to keep his mind from traveling back to the horrors he faced and focus on the present, the good. And he just couldn’t help but find that he wanted that person to be Eddie. 

Eddie, who seems to bring a smile out of Steve no matter what. Stupid joke or not, it was his presence that lightened the room. He made Steve feel safe, feel seen. Made sure he didn’t feel left out when the group went off on tangents he couldn’t follow or didn’t notice that he fell a step behind. Always explaining things Steve didn’t understand without any complaint and walked beside Steve so he’d have someone to talk to. It made Steve’s heart feel full. 

So when Eddie walked into the store like he did today, it filled Steve with unimaginable want. Because he wanted to just stroll over to Eddie and wrap his arms around the other man, press a kiss to his cheek and say hello. Tell him how happy he is to see him and how much his heart fills when he does so little as smile. 

But Steve can’t. This town wouldn’t let him. They wouldn’t let him show the love he could have for the other man because they view it as wrong. How could anyone could tell a person who feels this much that their love was wrong, Steve will never know. Because he can’t help but think that this is the most right feeling Steve has ever had. 

He wishes he could tell Eddie how he felt. That there wasn’t the fear in the back of his head that it would end all that they had. That Eddie would be disgusted and tell him to leave. Punch him in the face and push him away with words that stabbed Steve’s heart. 

Steve can’t risk that. He would never lose the light that Eddie brings to his life. So he sits and watches as Eddie pans over the movies in the store, laughing at the stupid cover art and bringing it over to show Steve. Smile softly to himself and laugh even though he’s seen them a million times. Because it would fuel the delusions Steve would make for himself at night, wishing that these moments would be his life forever.

Eddie walks over and slams a copy of ‘Children of the Corn’ on the counter. “Stevie,” he grins. “Check this out for me will ya?”

“Sure,” he presses a few buttons on the keyboard and waives the late return banner that pops up. “You really have to bring back the other tapes you have out. Can’t keep waiving the policy.”

“Not even for little ole’ me,” Eddie pouts. 

Steve clears his throat, trying to avert his eyes from the other man’s lip. “Not if I want to keep my job, no.”

Eddie groans. “Fine.” He perks up like a literal lightbulb went off above his head. “Why don’t you come over tonight and then you can grab them all. Would help us both out.”

“How is that helping us both out?”

“You get the tapes back and therefore, don’t get fired. And I get to spend some time with you. It’s a win-win. I haven’t seen you much in the past few weeks”

A lump forms in Steve’s throat. “Sorry, I’ve been … busy.” 

“Yeah, busy avoiding me. Every time I ask you to hang out you suddenly have something pop up. And don’t say they were all true, I was literally with Dustin the one time you claimed you had to pick him up.” Eddie looks at him with big, sorrowful eyes. “Did I do something?”

Steve sighs, wishing that he could tell Eddie the real reason that he’s been avoiding him. “No, it’s just been a rough couple of weeks.”

“More the reason you should come over tonight then. Then I can cheer you up with my Munson charm.”

He pains through a smile, knowing that the night would probably only make him feel worse, but can’t find himself wanting to say no either. He’s missed Eddie too, despite needing the space to get over the longing in his chest. “Sure, I’ll come over.”

Eddie slaps his ringed hand on the counter, making Steve jump. “Then it’s a date. See you tonight, Stevie,” he teases as he exits the door. 

Steve feels warmth flood his face, grateful that Eddie left when he did so he didn’t see. Dread fills his stomach knowing the hurt that will come from wishing everything he wants would come true. 

But Eddie was right, being around him always seem to cheer Steve up, even if only for a little while.

[non-binarypal7]

~ Writing Patterns ~

Thank you very much for the tag @ullvide❣️

How to play: Write the opening line from the last ten fics that you posted and see if there are any patterns! (I’m linking to the fics in question, but just so folks know, my fics are locked to anyone not signed into an AO3 account)

1) “See-ew stepped out of his sandals, making sure to arrange them neatly next to Liu’s (he’d learned that kicking them off haphazardly and leaving them where they landed irritated her) before following Liu into the kitchen and unpacking the two items they had just impulsively purchased.” 200 degrees (that’s why they call me Mr. Fahrenheit) See-Ew/Liu, The Warp Effect

2) “When Sean was nineteen, his parents were attacked and drained by vampires.” everlast Sean/White, Todd/Black, Gram/Black (one-sided), Yok (Not Me)/Longtae (A Tale of Thousand Stars), Not Me & ATOTS

3) “Pan had seen Prae kissing Meen, and she’d led her away from the rest of their group and Prae had been worried that this would add to Pan’s social ammunition against her and that all her carefully constructed stature would be dismantled, but Pan had assured her that she understood what she needed (Prae didn’t buy that for a second - how could Pan know what she needed when she was still figuring that out herself?) and had brought her to a secluded corner of the party where people were getting high on who knows what kind of drugs and having sex all together in a disorienting jumble in a dimly lit room.” don’t dream it; be it Prae (P.S. I Hate You)/Kat (The Warp Effect), P.S. I Hate You & The Warp Effect

4) “Boeing had been excited at the prospect of traveling all around the world as a flight attendant.” one and only Boeing/Boston, Only Friends

5) “Yo had spent her whole life practicing the taxing art of not taking people’s prejudiced judgments personally.” promotion period Yo & Sand’s mother (who I named Shine), Only Friends

6) “Chompoo was perpetually sleep deprived.” getting lost in the dark is my favorite part Chompoo & Night, Dirty Laundry

7) “Maetee approached the room he shared with T-Rex, not expecting it to be occupied, as everyone had communicated that they would be out at this time, and Maetee had been the first to get back to the house - or so he thought.” T-℞ Maetee/T-Rex, I’m Tee, Me Too

8) “Khatha slowly turned his head back to face Tum again, his cheek smarting where the punch had landed.” Khatha's Unhealthy Guide for How to Fill a Void in Your Soul Khatha/Tum, Midnight Museum

9) “Mote looked up at the opulent building currently shrouded in fog, then locked eyes with Kat to his right.” wo:oing hour Khatha/Dome, a bit of Mote (Midnight Motel)/Dome (Midnight Museum), Midnight Museum & Midnight Motel

10) “Jim had been a loyal customer of theirs for as long as Gaipa could remember, never expressing frustration over rising prices, and they supported his diner as much as they could.” chickened out of luck in love Jim/Gaipa (one-sided), Moonlight Chicken

I seem to alternate between starting my stories with introspective exposition and starting right in the middle of a scene. I’m glad that not very many of these opening lines are run-on sentences, as I have a tendency to write those, and I think they can be a bit of a turn-off when they appear right at the outset (thank you very much to everyone who reads past my overly long first sentences). I always enjoy revisiting my fics, so I had a lot of fun with this game 🥰

No pressure tags ♥︎ @xagan @7nessasaryevils @ablazenqueen @topcatnikki @thepancakelady

[caffeinated-binturong]

Behind the Fic: 37

Because so much writing isn’t something the reader is privy to and I like behind the scenes stuff, I’ll elaborate on some things and mention some cuts. It also gives me an excuse to talk about it more.

The vastaya is a Kiilash, so think Rengar. Just not as fit and doesn't have something to prove. Maybe when he was younger but that was ages ago—Zaun and slinging food is his retirement.

I considered using a header image that included a neon sign from Season 1 but it was a fish and I didn’t want people to think Jericho.

I pictured the creep as a mix of Heenot and the guy Vi punched when he tried dancing with her in Season 2.

Both the walking and verbal cue did indeed indicate that the hunt had started and who the target was.

Lions and wolves pack hunting always came to mind, as did how prey animals hide their pain/injury to seem like a harder fight than they actually were. Also how something like wild dogs aren’t much of a threat if they’re alone (at least to anything their size or bigger that can fight back) but a pack of them is amazingly successful in taking down prey.

Originally used “jackal” a lot more but it got repetitive. It also seemed unfair to actual jackals.

There was a woman dressed to the nines with a blade behind her shawl in one version.

Sevika took longer in the bedroom than needed to give Reader time alone and to deal with her own feelings and decide what to do. Mostly the latter.

The pillow was from her own bed ‘cause she didn’t have a spare one in a closet.

No she didn’t invite Reader to her bed—Reader slept on the couch.

The guys tailing Reader were found dead a couple days later.

I considered adding some verticality to the alley segment but by then I had already written, rewritten, and edited it so many times I didn’t want to make more work for myself.

The reason Reader was having such a bad day was that their boss had been an utter ass, customers weren’t any better, and Reader had been on their feet since morning. About 16 hours, give or take.

Which was what their previous shifts all week were like, too.

Cut a part where Reader considered hiding out in a bar to get away. Ultimately it messed with the flow and didn’t add anything.

The noodles are made with fungus instead of wheat. Texture is about the same but is nuttier and tastes slightly off if eaten plain so covering it up with spices is normal.

The fungus is able to be grown in the area while wheat has to be imported and the prices reflect this.

I randomly picked the number 37 and was chuffed to see it’s a “sexy prime”.

I pictured the time as 11PM-12AM, when nearly everything is closed, there's minimal foot traffic, and bar patrons haven’t turned to drunken fights (yet) (mostly).

Reader pretty much passes out after eating.

There’s more writing about Reader’s actions and thought process than there really was (Reader was in slightly-more-alert zombie-mode) to make it easier for a reader to follow. Much was instinct, not thinking.

Sevika does get her whiskey and has a smoke afterwards because WTF.

She’s also glad Reader fell asleep nigh instantly so she didn’t have to deal with small talk.

I did a quick and very rough floor plan sketch of the apartment. Nothing’s to scale and some things (namely the bathroom) are missing but it’s enough to keep track of where things are.

Sevika thought it might all be an elaborate ploy to get at her or Silco (and yes she was prepared to toss Reader out).

She still doesn’t know why she stepped in for Reader when she’d seen similar happen so many times before and chocks it up to still being in work-mode and a momentary lapse of judgement. Swears it won't happen again.

It might have been less about Reader and more about an “off the records” way of messing with the guy. Results were very close on who she disliked more and if she gave enough fucks to do anything.

She thinks of Reader like you would a stray animal—help them out, maybe give them a place to stay overnight, then hand them off the next day. She largely forgets about the whole thing.

I tentatively know where I’d go with this if I were to continue it but not sure I will.

Working file name was “Send Noods” because I’m mature and didn’t know what I’d title it until the 11th hour.

There was something like 7 drafts because I got carried away with editing.

Seriously, so much editing even though the spelling and punctuation were fine. I might have been using it as an excuse to procrastinate.

It caused me to learn much of my HTML knowledge is out of date. Not directly related but did delay it a bit. (I do not like HTML5)

No idea how often I'll do these but it makes me feel better about cutting stuff.

[kellyjennar]

How to Choose the Best Raz Vape Near Me: A Beginner’s Guide

Vaping has become such a popular choice for many people, whether you're a newbie or a seasoned vaper. But with so many options out there, picking the perfect Raz vape near me can feel overwhelming, right? That's exactly why I wanted to put together this guide to help you choose the ideal Raz vape that fits your needs—and of course, your taste! So if you're ready to dive in and discover some awesome Raz Vape flavors, keep reading.

Why Choose Raz Vapes?

Raz vapes are an absolute hit in the vaping community—and for good reason! These vapes stand out because they combine performance, flavor, and convenience. Whether you're looking for something smooth, refreshing, or full of rich flavors, Raz vapes have a lot to offer. But with so many Raz vape flavors to choose from, how do you pick the one that's just right for you?

Let’s break it down.

1. Know Your Flavor Profile: What Do You Like?

The first step to picking the right Raz vape near me is understanding your personal taste preferences. Raz vapes are known for having a wide variety of flavors, so narrowing it down can really elevate your experience.

Sweet & Fruity

If you enjoy the sweetness of fruits, you're in for a treat. Raz Vapes offer plenty of fruity options, from tangy berry blends to tropical fruit combinations that’ll make your taste buds do a happy dance.

Clear Sapphire Raz Flavor: This is one of my absolute favorites! It’s a fruity yet refreshing mix that gives a cool, crisp hit every time. Perfect for those who love a fruity vape with a subtle twist.

Watermelon Lemonade: A juicy and refreshing summer vibe in every puff.

Menthol & Minty

For those who prefer a fresh, cool inhale, menthol options are perfect. The minty taste can be energizing and soothing all at once.

Iced Mango: A tropical flavor with a minty finish. If you like a little chill, this one's for you.

Dessert-Inspired

Craving something sweet without the calories? Raz vapes also offer dessert-inspired flavors that feel like a treat. Think decadent vanilla, creamy caramel, and more!

Vanilla Custard: Creamy, smooth, and satisfying with a touch of sweetness.

2. Consider the Nicotine Strength

Nicotine strength is an important factor when choosing your Raz vape near me. Raz vapes typically offer various nicotine levels, so you can select one that suits your needs.

Higher Strength: If you're used to smoking traditional cigarettes or need that stronger hit, go for a higher nicotine strength.

Lower Strength: For those who just want to enjoy the flavors without the heavy nicotine punch, a lower strength might be perfect.

Remember, it’s always best to start with a lower nicotine level if you’re new to vaping, and then adjust accordingly.

3. Look for Availability Near You

Now, I know you're probably wondering, “Where can I find a Raz vape near me?” Good news—Raz vapes are widely available at many vape shops, both online and in physical stores. You can search for one near you with a quick online search or check in-store availability.

Online vs. In-Store Shopping

Online Shopping: Convenient for browsing a wider selection of flavors and devices from the comfort of your home. However, you might have to wait for shipping.

In-Store Shopping: Instant gratification. You can pick up your new Raz vape and flavors right away, plus, you can often get recommendations from the staff.

I love visiting a local vape shop when I’m craving a new flavor, because I get to ask about the latest Raz vape flavors and get some good advice from the staff.

4. Check for Quality and Reviews

You know how you wouldn’t buy something without checking the reviews first? Same goes for vapes! It’s always a good idea to look up online reviews and ratings to ensure that the Raz vape near me is of good quality and performs well.

Reliability: Is the device durable and long-lasting?

Flavor Quality: Does the flavor match its description, or is it a letdown?

Customer Satisfaction: Read up on what others are saying about their vaping experience.

It’s also worth considering the reputation of the brand itself. Raz has built a strong reputation for creating quality products, and customer feedback usually reflects that.

5. Experiment and Have Fun with New Flavors

One of the most exciting things about vaping is exploring new flavors. It’s all about finding what works for you, and that can take a little experimentation.

Why not try something new like the Clear Sapphire Raz flavor? I was a bit hesitant at first, but once I tried it, I was hooked! You don’t always have to stick to what you know—vaping is a fun journey, and there are so many flavors to explore.

Pro Tip: If you can, try out smaller sizes of new flavors before committing to a larger bottle. That way, you won’t feel like you’ve wasted your money if you don’t love it.

6. Pay Attention to Battery Life

When you're choosing a Raz vape near me, don’t forget to consider battery life. The last thing you want is for your vape to die out while you're enjoying your favorite Raz vape flavor.

Long Battery Life: Go for a vape with a larger battery capacity if you’re someone who vapes frequently.

Compact Devices: If portability is important to you, there are plenty of compact Raz vapes that are easy to carry around.

The key is finding the right balance between convenience and performance.

7. Stay Informed About New Products

Raz vapes are always coming up with new and exciting products, so it’s a great idea to stay up to date with the latest releases. Follow social media accounts, subscribe to newsletters, or simply check back in with your local vape shop to discover new Raz vape flavors and devices.

By staying informed, you can make sure you’re always on top of the freshest options available!

Conclusion: Pick the Perfect Raz Vape for You

At the end of the day, the perfect Raz vape near me is the one that fits your unique preferences, whether that’s based on flavor, nicotine strength, or device style. From fruity options like the Clear Sapphire Raz flavor to refreshing minty hits, the possibilities are endless. Don’t forget to check reviews, compare options, and most importantly—have fun with your vaping experience.

What’s your favorite Raz vape flavor? Let me know in the comments—I’d love to hear what you think!

[buyumeacademy]

Where to Find the Best Spa Salons in Erode

Erode, known for its vibrant culture and rich heritage, is also home to some fantastic spa salons. If you're looking to pamper yourself, relax, and rejuvenate, you're in the right place! In this blog, we will explore five of the top salons in Erode that offer excellent spa services. From luxurious treatments to expert care, these salons are sure to provide you with an unforgettable experience. And to make things even easier, we’ll introduce you to the Buyume Salon Finder, a fantastic platform that allows you to book appointments online!

1. B3 Salon

B3 Salon is one of the most popular salons in Erode, and for good reason. The moment you step inside, you're greeted by a warm and inviting atmosphere. The skilled professionals here offer a range of spa treatments, including massages, facials, and body scrubs.

What sets B3 Salon apart is their commitment to using high-quality products that cater to your skin type. Whether you're looking for a refreshing facial to brighten your complexion or a soothing massage to melt away stress, B3 Salon has it all. Their staff is well-trained, friendly, and always ready to provide personalized recommendations based on your needs.

Why Choose B3 Salon?

Expert Staff: The therapists are well-trained and know how to provide the best spa experience.

Quality Products: They use top-notch products that ensure you receive the best treatment.

Relaxing Ambiance: The calming environment makes it an ideal spot for relaxation.

2. Hansha Mehandi Erode

While Hansha Mehandi is renowned for its stunning mehndi designs, it also offers delightful spa services. This salon is perfect for those looking to combine beauty with relaxation. Here, you can enjoy traditional Ayurvedic massages, rejuvenating facials, and even body treatments that utilize natural ingredients.

The team at Hansha Mehandi believes in holistic beauty and wellness, which is why they focus on techniques that promote both relaxation and beauty. The atmosphere is vibrant, filled with the aroma of natural oils and herbs, creating a unique spa experience that feels both refreshing and grounding.

Why Choose Hansha Mehandi Erode?

Ayurvedic Treatments: Experience authentic Ayurvedic therapies for holistic healing.

Creative Services: Combine your spa day with beautiful mehndi designs for special occasions.

Natural Ingredients: Treatments focus on using organic products that are gentle on your skin.

3. Blue Base Salon And Beauty Point

Blue Base Salon And Beauty Point is another gem in Erode’s spa scene. Known for its cleanliness and professionalism, this salon provides a wide range of beauty and wellness services, including facials, body massages, and hair treatments.

The team here is dedicated to creating a customized experience for every client. They take the time to understand your needs and tailor their services accordingly. If you're looking for a relaxing escape from your daily routine, Blue Base Salon is the place to go. Their serene environment and expert staff ensure that you leave feeling rejuvenated.

Why Choose Blue Base Salon And Beauty Point?

Customized Treatments: Services are tailored to meet individual client needs.

Hygienic Environment: The salon maintains high cleanliness standards for your safety.

Friendly Staff: The welcoming team makes you feel at home.

4. Sun Bright Beauty Parlour

Sun Bright Beauty Parlour is a local favorite, known for its affordable prices and high-quality services. This salon may be small, but it packs a punch when it comes to spa treatments. The therapists here are experienced and offer various services, including deep tissue massages and skin treatments that will leave you feeling refreshed.

Sun Bright is particularly popular among regular customers for its friendly atmosphere and attention to detail. They believe that everyone deserves a little pampering, which is reflected in their reasonable pricing without compromising quality.

Why Choose Sun Bright Beauty Parlour?

Affordable Prices: Enjoy top-notch services without breaking the bank.

Community Feel: The salon has a friendly vibe, making it a favorite among locals.

Comprehensive Services: They offer a full range of treatments for all your beauty needs.

5. The Scissors

Last but certainly not least, The Scissors is a well-established salon in Erode, known for its excellent spa and hair services. The salon boasts a relaxing atmosphere, making it an ideal place to unwind after a long day.

The Scissors offers a variety of spa treatments, from invigorating massages to calming facials. Their trained staff uses modern techniques and high-quality products to ensure that every client leaves feeling their best. Whether you need a quick treatment or a full spa day, The Scissors is a fantastic choice.

Why Choose The Scissors?

Modern Techniques: They use the latest methods for effective treatments.

Skilled Professionals: The staff is experienced and knowledgeable in various spa services.

Inviting Atmosphere: Enjoy a tranquil environment during your treatments.

Discover More with Buyume Salon Finder

Booking your spa day has never been easier! With the Buyume Salon Finder, you can explore various salons in Erode, including those mentioned above. This platform allows you to book appointments online, ensuring you get the treatment you desire at a time that works for you.

The Buyume Salon Finder not only helps you find top salons in Erode but also gives you insights into their services, pricing, and customer reviews. You can easily compare options and choose the best one that fits your needs. Check it out here and take the first step towards a rejuvenating experience.

Conclusion

Whether you're looking for a luxurious spa treatment, a quick beauty fix, or a place to unwind, Erode has a variety of options to suit your needs. From the renowned B3 Salon to the vibrant atmosphere of Hansha Mehandi Erode, you're sure to find the perfect spot to relax and pamper yourself.Remember, the right salon can make all the difference in your experience, so take the time to explore your options. Don’t forget to utilize the Buyume Salon Finder to simplify your search for the best spas in Erode. Treat yourself to a day of pampering—you deserve it!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Sugar Tonight 2

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

*sorry for misnumbering

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The man catches you by surprise as he appears. You’re busy scraping out the bottom of the toaster as he stands silently at the counter. You smile over at him and call out for him to bear with you for a moment. You’re not sure how you didn’t hear him, even as you tried to chip away at the burnt crumbs. Xander never cleans it. 

“Hi, sir, sorry.” You dry off your hands as you approach. “Black coffee.” 

You punch in his order and he waits patiently to tap his smartwatch on the machine. He doesn’t say a word as you pour him a cup. It’s typical but unsettling nonetheless. 

“Oh, er, I think... I think last time there was a mix-up.” You say as you put his cup on the counter. He ignores you and goes to grab a sleeve and a lid. You follow as you dig around in your apron pocket. “Uh, sir, I think you gave me the wrong tip.” 

You bring the folded bill out of your pocket and hold it out. He doesn’t even look at it. Instead, his dark eyes bore into you. Oh. That’s scary. 

“No. I didn’t.” 

That’s it. He’s already halfway around before you can process his words. His tone hangs in the air and lingers even as the door opens and closes across the atrium. You rescind your arm and open up the bill. 

It’s a lot of money. You could use it but it just feels so wrong. You can’t help but feel indebted. Maybe because you’re used to bending over backwards for each cent. You’ll be smart. Put it away for an emergency. Those always seem to find you at the worst moment. 

Your shift comes to an end as the city skyline softens beneath the amber glow of sunrise. Dayani takes the keys and sends you off. You’re tempted to grab a coffee to go before you leave but you can’t. You need sleep. 

You come out onto the street and take your usual route. You cut behind the corner shop and around the short alleyway. As you come out on the other side, a shadow appears, as if splitting from the brick, and falls into step beside you. 

You stumble and glance over at the stranger. It’s that man. The one who always wears black and orders the same shade of coffee. 

“I don’t make mistakes,” he says. 

You’re too addled to respond. How did he find you? How did he know you’d come this way? 

You stop but only for a moment as he grabs your arm and lurches you forward. You whimper and struggle to keep in stride. His grip is tight and his fingertips jab painfully. 

“Sir? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--” 

“You shouldn’t take shortcuts,” he reprimands, eyes set ahead of him as he drags you down your usual path. “It’s dangerous.” 

“Oh, ouch, sorry. I—what's happening?” You squeak as confusion muddles your thoughts. 

“Anyone could sneak up on you.” He doesn’t falter. You can hardly keep your feet moving as your adrenaline floods through your veins and narrows your vision. You glance around helplessly but the few bodies on the street don’t spare you a single look. 

“I’m sorry. Again. But—ow. Do you want your money back?” You try to shrug him off as he turns down your street. 

He’s silent as he marches on. He stops you in front of your building and angles you to face it. He keeps a hold of you. 

“Shouldn't be in this building. Locks janky. Any asshole can climb the fire escape.” He points along the side. “Or carry in an empty pizza box behind the elderly old lady who’s too helpful for her own good.” 

You wince and hold the air in your chest. “Sir?” 

“Night shift. Alone. That’s third. Stupid,” he snarls. 

“Sir, I—I have roommates and... and there’s cameras.” 

“And assholes wear masks or don’t give a shit,” he growls. 

You whine as he squeezes and you touch his hand. “Ow, please, you’re hurting me.” 

He shifts and looks down at his hand. He gives one last squeeze and releases you. He drops his arm straight and faces you. 

“Lots of men out there would hurt you worse.” 

You shake your head at him. You don’t understand. You’re not stupid. You’ve lived in the city long enough. 

“You leave just before eleven. At least you have the sense to stay in streetlights then. But you keep your head down and don’t look where you’re going,” he rebukes. “You don’t see your own shadow or the second one making sure no one else notices you.” 

You pout and flutter your lashes. The fear slowly rises up from your stomach to your chest until you’re choked dumb. His mouth slants. 

“You should use that money for a can of mace. Maybe a taser.” He squares his shoulders and looks you up and down. “Or maybe I’ll just keep my eye on you.” 

You flounder, lips twitching, and he puts his back to you. He stalks off without another word or another look. You watch him until he’s only a speck in the cityscape. 

What the heck was that? 

[vvip-car-rental-2]

Feel the Thrill: Rent a Ford Mustang Convertible in Dubai

Dubai, a city known for its vibrant lifestyle and stunning architecture, deserves to be explored in style. What better way to experience this dynamic city than from the driver's seat of a Ford Mustang Convertible? At VVIP Car Rentals, we offer you the chance to rent this iconic vehicle, ensuring a luxurious and exhilarating experience without breaking the bank. Discover why renting a Ford Mustang Convertible in Dubai is the perfect choice for an unforgettable journey.

Why Choose the Ford Mustang Convertible?

1. Iconic Design and Style: The Ford Mustang Convertible is a symbol of American muscle and style. Its sleek lines, aggressive stance, and convertible top make it a head-turner on the streets of Dubai. Feel the wind in your hair as you cruise through the city, taking in the sights in one of the most stylish cars on the road.

2. Thrilling Performance: Under the hood, the Ford Mustang packs a powerful punch. Its robust engine delivers impressive acceleration and performance, ensuring every drive is an adrenaline-filled adventure. Whether you're navigating city streets or heading out on the open highway, the Mustang's performance won't disappoint.

3. Advanced Technology: Stay connected and entertained with the Mustang's advanced technology features. The intuitive infotainment system, premium audio setup, and smartphone connectivity ensure you have everything you need at your fingertips. Enjoy your favorite music, navigate with ease, and stay connected while on the go.

4. Comfortable and Spacious Interior: The Ford Mustang Convertible offers a comfortable and spacious interior, perfect for both driver and passengers. With high-quality materials, supportive seats, and modern amenities, every journey is a pleasure. The convertible top allows you to switch between an open-air experience and a cozy cabin, depending on your preference.

Why Rent with VVIP Car Rentals?

1. Affordable Luxury: At VVIP Car Rentals, we believe that luxury and excitement should be accessible. We offer competitive rates and flexible rental packages, making it possible for you to enjoy the Ford Mustang Convertible without stretching your budget. Our transparent pricing ensures no hidden costs, so you can plan your trip with confidence.

2. Exceptional Customer Service: Our commitment to customer satisfaction sets us apart. From the moment you inquire about a rental to the time you return the vehicle, our team is dedicated to providing a seamless and enjoyable experience. We are always available to assist with any questions or special requests, ensuring your needs are met.

3. Easy Booking Process: Renting a Ford Mustang Convertible with us is straightforward and hassle-free. Our user-friendly website allows you to choose your dates and vehicle with just a few clicks. If you need assistance, our customer support team is ready to help you through every step of the process.

4. Convenient Pickup and Drop-off: We understand the importance of convenience, which is why we offer multiple pickup and drop-off locations throughout Dubai. Whether you're arriving at the airport or staying at a luxury hotel, we make it easy for you to start your thrilling journey.

How to Book Your Ford Mustang Convertible

Booking your Ford Mustang Convertible with VVIP Car Rentals is simple. Visit our website, select your rental dates, and choose the Mustang Convertible from our fleet. Provide your details, and you're all set to enjoy a luxurious and exciting experience in Dubai. If you have any specific requirements or need assistance, our customer support team is just a call away.

Conclusion

Dubai is a city of excitement and luxury, and exploring it in a Ford Mustang Convertible takes your experience to the next level. Renting this iconic vehicle from VVIP Car Rentals ensures you enjoy the best in style, performance, and comfort, all at an affordable price. Make your trip to Dubai truly special by choosing the Ford Mustang Convertible for your travels. Rent with us today and feel the thrill of driving an American classic in one of the world's most exciting cities.

[dazedandblazedza]

Top 5 Cannabis Strains You Must Try at Dazed and Blazed

Welcome to Dazed and Blazed, your trusted cannabis store in Gqeberha, Eastern Cape. Whether you're a seasoned cannabis connoisseur or a novice looking to explore, our extensive selection of cannabis strains offers something for everyone. In this blog post, we'll introduce you to the top five cannabis strains that you must try at Dazed and Blazed.

1. Blue Dream

Blue Dream is a legendary Sativa-dominant hybrid known for its balanced effects. Perfect for daytime use, this strain offers a gentle cerebral invigoration combined with full-body relaxation. Its sweet berry aroma, coupled with its therapeutic benefits for stress and pain relief, makes Blue Dream a favorite among our customers. If you're looking for a strain that can boost creativity and alleviate discomfort, Blue Dream is a must-try.

2. Girl Scout Cookies (GSC)

A well-loved hybrid, Girl Scout Cookies (GSC) provides a euphoric high paired with a deep sense of relaxation. This strain is famous for its sweet and earthy aroma, delivering a powerful punch of THC. GSC is ideal for evening use, helping to melt away stress and soothe the body. At Dazed and Blazed, we highly recommend GSC for those seeking a potent strain that offers both mental and physical relief.

3. OG Kush

OG Kush is a classic Indica-dominant strain renowned for its robust and long-lasting effects. Known for its earthy pine and sour lemon scent, OG Kush delivers a heavy euphoria that’s perfect for unwinding. This strain is excellent for managing stress, insomnia, and pain, making it a staple in our cannabis store. If you need a reliable strain to help you relax and get a good night's sleep, OG Kush is a top choice.

4. Durban Poison

For those who prefer an energizing Sativa, Durban Poison is a must-try. This pure Sativa strain offers a clear-headed and uplifting high, perfect for daytime activities and socializing. Its sweet and spicy aroma, combined with its ability to enhance focus and creativity, makes Durban Poison a favorite among those looking for a productive boost. At Dazed and Blazed, we recommend Durban Poison for its invigorating effects and delightful flavor.

5. Granddaddy Purple (GDP)

Granddaddy Purple, or GDP, is an Indica strain known for its striking purple buds and potent effects. This strain offers a powerful body high accompanied by a tranquil mind, making it perfect for evening use. Its sweet berry and grape aroma, coupled with its ability to combat pain, stress, and insomnia, makes GDP a popular choice at our dispensary. If you're seeking a deeply relaxing strain to help you unwind, Granddaddy Purple is a must-try.

Visit Us in Gqeberha

At Dazed and Blazed, we pride ourselves on offering a diverse range of high-quality cannabis strains to suit every preference and need. Visit our cannabis store in Gqeberha, Eastern Cape, to explore these top strains and discover your new favorite. Our knowledgeable staff is always ready to assist you in finding the perfect product for your cannabis experience.

Author: Jonathan W

Who We Are

Step into Dazed and Blazed Cannabis Store in Port Elizabeth, a tranquil oasis for cannabis connoisseurs and newcomers alike. In addition to our exceptional products, we also offer a range of accessories and merchandise, from apparatus to stylish apparel. We are dedicated to providing a truly exceptional cannabis experience. Come visit us today!

Contact Us

Dazed and Blazed

10 Frank St, Newton Park, Gqeberha, 6045, South Africa

+27 63 275 8005

info@dazedandblazed.co.za

https://dazedandblazed.co.za/

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