#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

[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. 🥰

[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.

[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. 

“Should 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? 

[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.

[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

[corpsebasil]

The Prince’s Whore Part 2 18+

Part 1 ——-> here

You sipped from your vodka soda, watching as Nikolai approached you from across the tavern, making his way to your side. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care—most likely the latter—when several people openly stared in surprise to see the prince being so casually in attendance. You raised a brow when he made it to your side, squeezing a lime wedge into your drink before dropping it in.

“Thank you.” You told him, glancing away as he leaned against the wall to your right. You didn’t want to address the fact that he knew exactly how you liked your drinks, or why that made something in you feel a bit soft. “How are you?”

“Perfect, now that I’m with you.” He muttered, scanning the crowd. “Found anyone to tangle with tonight?” His voice dropped lower. “Someone to tear that dress off?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would.” He grinned and bumped your arm with his, jostling you into looking over at him. “Speaking of that dress. Did someone pour you into it? Saints.”

You glanced down.

It was true, the tight black fabric that ended mid-thigh was sinfully draped over your body, exposing every dip and curve of your hips and waist. Nikolai wasn’t the first to have noticed—you saw a man eyeing you as he and his friend walked past, your stare turning purposely sultry, but his words he whispered none too softly made your face turn red.

“The Prince’s Whore.” He muttered, giving you an up-down that wasn’t anything close to admiring. “Pretty brave of them to show up together in public. Makes a mockery of the crown.”

You opened your mouth, ready to tear into him, but Nikolai had already peeled off the wall and stepped forward. The man had a brief second to look apologetic before the Prince’s fist slammed into his head, knocking him backwards and onto the ground. The man’s friend backed up, sputtering apologies, and Nikolai shook his hand out with a wince before walking back to you.

You could only stare, taking a lofty sip of your drink, as those fierce blue eyes met yours and he cast one more glare over his shoulders. You didn’t want to admit it, but…that was incredibly sexy. You cursed yourself for thinking it, but your eyes still strayed to his hands, remembering how recently they’d—

“Bastards,” he grumbled, rubbing his knuckles as he interrupted your filthy thoughts. “you’d think they’d have more decorum when I’m standing right here.”

“You—” you swallowed, still staring as your skin warmed. “what the hell did you do that for? I can defend myself.”

“But it’s so much more fun when you let me do it, darling.”

“Oh god.” You groaned, rolling your eyes.

“I love it when you make that sound.”

You shot the prince an annoyed look as he grinned down at you, reaching out to play with the strap of your dress. He looked at you like he always did, admiringly, but something softer in his gaze made your guard go right up. You didn’t like this—didn’t like the rush of warmth that had spread through you when he hit the man who called you a whore. Didn’t like the way he was gazing as you now, eyes scanning your face like you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“I’m doing a customer scan.” You informed him, looking away from that maddeningly handsome face. “Try not to punch anyone else.”

“My lady, where your honor is concerned, I make no promises.”

“Saints save me.” You grumbled under your breath, shoving your empty drink into his hand and ignoring his dark laugh as you pushed your way into the crowd.

You swayed your hips invitingly, eyes roving around the press of people, searching for a willing customer. It was always the same—approach or be approached, then the inevitable venturing into someone’s bed. For the past few months you’d been low on customers, preferring, to your chagrin, the press of a certain someone’s hands to your body instead of a stranger’s. But this was your trade, your craft, and you soon saw a boy in the distance who’s sparkling smile caught your attention.

He laughed at something the person he was talking to said, then looked over, his eyes meeting yours as if by chance. His approving up-down was quick and his face flushed with color, looking away then back as you approached him. He whispered something to his friend and moved towards you, cutting through the crowd.

“Hi,” you greeted him, holding a hand out for him to take. “I’m Y/N. I couldn’t help but notice your smile.”

“Hard not to notice pretty much everything about you.” He laughed, and damn you if he wasn’t cute as hell. He seemed like the kind of guy you might’ve dated back before you took up your current lifestyle. “Ethan. Nice to meet you.” He dropped a kiss onto the back of your hand and you blushed involuntarily.

“Where are you from E—” you stopped, watching as his eyes widened, gaze locked on something behind you. And when you turned, you saw Nikolai ordering a fresh drink at the bar, laughing over something the bartender was saying. “Ethan?”

“Sorry, I um—” he glanced at the floor, then back up. “You’re absolutely lovely, Y/N. But I’d love to leave this place with my head on my shoulders, so I’m gonna…” he pointed awkwardly back at his friends and you scowled.

“What does that mean?” When he paused, you pushed. “Ethan?”

“It’s um…pretty much guaranteed that if I hit on you or even try going home with you, the prince will kill me.”

“What?” Your head whipped around as your eyes shot daggers at the prince. He was still chatting away, and somehow you knew that he was completely aware of the current exchange and was unworried. “Did he say something to anyone?”

“Yeah uh, he pretty much spread word that if someone tries to touch you they’re dead.” Then he shrugged, face softening. “You’re gorgeous. And dating a prince seems like exactly what someone as pretty as you deserves.”

“We’re not dating—I’m—“ you closed your eyes and then smiled tightly. “Thank you. For being so nice. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

You turned on your heel and walked slowly back through the crowd, suddenly realizing how many men and women were eyeing you and then looking away like you were a walking death sentence. When you made it to Nikolai’s side you slid an arm around his waist, under his jacket, so that your hand that was now out of sight from onlookers could dig sharp nails into his ribs.

He grunted and then coughed, turning a pleasant little smile towards you.

“Y/N, darling.” He said, eyes gleaming with both pain and amusement. “Did you make a friend? Braid each other’s hair?”

You used your free hand to pick up his glass of whiskey and knock it back, then reached for the vodka soda he’d ordered for you. The sight of the lime already inside annoyed you more than warmed you, and you sucked half the drink down in one go before speaking.

“If you ever,” you started, voice dripping with honey and venom. “interfere with my work again, I’ll kill you.”

“And I’ll kill every man who has the audacity to look at you in that dress for more than five seconds.” He shot a look at someone behind you, proving his point, and you dug your nails in harder. Gods above, he was pure muscle. It was like squeezing a boulder. “Careful, love, if you want to kiss me later don’t injure me first.”

“I don’t want anything to do with you.” You hissed, voice low and serious. His smile faltered and you pushed on, pulling away from him. “Nothing. Leave. Me. Alone.” You finished your drink and whirled, headed towards the door. And to your surprise, though you’d asked, he didn’t follow.

—

You took the long way home, walking slowly, letting the night air soothe your anger. You felt guilty every time you thought of Nikolai. For months now, months, you hadn’t had anyone in your bed but him. You’d settled for inns and homes, even the occasional alleyway, to your disgust, but no one in your own apartment. No one in your shower. No one sleeping beside you.

And so you walked, rubbing your arms, and when you turned the corner onto your street you stopped dead in your tracks. Nikolai sat on the front step of your apartment building, chin propped on a hand as he stared dully out at something in the distance. At the sound of your resuming footsteps he looked up, apology written all over his face.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I had no right to—” He paused when you held up a hand, brushing past him to unlock the door and move to the stairway.

He trailed after you quietly, his shallow breaths the only other sound besides your footsteps, and watched somberly as you unlocked your apartment and moved inside. When he stood there, unmoving, you let out a sigh.

“Are you coming inside, Nik?”

Something like hope crossed his face as he followed you, watching again as you shut the door behind him and locked up. Your heels clicked as you walked to the bathroom, washing your hands and undoing the pins in your hair, letting it fall around your shoulders.

“Make me a drink, will you?” You called out to him, then smeared your favorite lip-balm over your mouth. You’d been biting your lip during your walk, stressing over what you’d said to him and what it meant for the two of you.

He poured, and you walked out to find him with his jacket off, the top few buttons of his shirt undone. He’d pushed his sleeves up over his elbows and—Saints have mercy. His arms. You blinked once and looked away quickly, unwilling to be distracted.

“I didn’t mean what I said.” You admitted, swallowing as a sense of awkwardness washed over you. He wasn’t your friend; what did it matter if you’d hurt his feelings? “I just didn’t appreciate you stopping me from doing my job.”

“I understand.” He said, tone flat and void of any sort of emotion. He handed you a glass tumbler of whiskey and took a sip from his own, leaning against the wall to look at you. “I’ll leave you alone, after tonight. If that’s what you want.”

“It’s not—” you felt frustrated all of a sudden, a feeling of odd desperation crawling through you. “it’s not what I want.”

“Then what do you want, Y/N?” He asked, still looking at you in that insufferably calm way. You set your drink down after a long sip, your fingers trembling a bit as he moved forward. “Because I know what I want.”

“And what’s that?” Your voice was practically inaudible, your breath catching when he took your face in a hand, fingers sliding behind your neck and into your hair.

“I want you.” He said, completely serious, and the laugh that bubbled out of you was hardly a laugh at all. Especially when he bent his head and kissed you, pulling you into him, his mouth soft and gentle and absolutely perfect.

Your heart dropped so abruptly into your stomach you gasped, reaching out to clutch at his shirt. The feel of him—and then smell of his cologne—your head was spinning, and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or him or both.

“Let me get you out of that dress.” He whispered, moving to kiss your jaw, then neck, your head tipping backwards. You were practically panting, feeling so hot you thought you’d faint, when his hand slipped behind you and slid the zipper of your dress down.

He tugged it up slowly, hands sliding under the hem and bringing it with him, his hands grazing your skin as he went. Over your hips, then your stomach, then—

When it was over your head he dropped it onto the floor, kissing your mouth again once as he stared down reverently at your body. You’d gone braless out of necessity and his eyes drank you in, his stare so heated you felt the impact like a brand.

“Sit.” He told you and, like a godsdammned dog, you did. And when Nikolai knelt between your legs, you had a flashback of the shower so intense that an ache began between your thighs. “You’re so beautiful.” He sighed, tugging off one heel, then the other. His lips kissed your calf, his mouth moving up your leg. “I want you to be mine, Y/N.”

“That’s insane.” You managed to say, and the sharp nip he gave to your inner thigh made you gasp.

“Why?” He questioned against your skin, his fingers tugging your underwear down and over your hips.

“You’re a prince.” You closed your eyes, trying not to let out a ridiculous moan when his teeth grazed, then he kissed, your hip. “You can’t be with me.”

“I can be with whoever I wish. My title doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does.” You opened your eyes, and the sight of his mouth so close to—you shut them again, unable to have this conversation with him when he looked so damn needy. “Even if you could, we aren’t friends, Nik. We’ve never been friends, so what makes you think I want a relationship with you?”

“You always insist on that.” He sighed, breath warm against your inner thighs. “And yet I cannot stop loving you anyways.”

Your heart stopped.

When he looked up at you, blue eyes soft and filled with—oh gods. He couldn’t be serious.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You spat, shifting and crawling farther up the bed away from him. You grabbed a blanket and covered yourself, glaring as he stood and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’ve never been more serious.” His voice was so calm, so gentle, you—no. No. “How can I prove it to you?”

“You’re insane Nik. You’ve lost your damn mind.”

“I will beg for you, if you wish it.”

“Nikolai, stop. You’re absolutely insane and I do not love you.”

“Please Y/N.” His breath caught as his brows furrowed, an injured look on his face. “I will humble myself at your feet if it will satisfy you. I have cared for you for so long and—and if you truly do not love me, even a bit, I will go.” His eyes left yours, scanning the apartment as if memorizing it, then moved back to your face. “If even the possibility of loving me is…insane to you, then I will leave. But I cannot keep loving you and sharing your bed when you don’t feel the same. It’s killing me.”

Your mouth was dry, something cleaving in your chest as you looked at him. You looked at your prince, at the only man you’d allowed in your bed, the man you’d brushed your damn teeth with, the man who squeezed lime into your drinks and defended you when you were insulted. And something tightened in you further when he nodded once and stood, headed for his coat.

“Nikolai, wait.” You could hardly breathe as he turned his head, something like pain written across his features. “I do—I—” Saints, where were your words? “I want you. To stay. Please.”

A soft laugh left him, a sound of pure relief, and you watched with a strangely warm, desperate feeling inside you as he made his way to the bed, moving beside you. He tugged the blanket off you and bent his head to kiss the curve of your knee, watching as you propped yourself on your elbows and stared at him.

“You look a bit like you want to attack me, right now.” He informed you, using his grip on your legs to pull you closer.

You kind of did want to attack him. Especially when he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and removed it, every inch of his chest and—gods those abs—on display.

“Saints.” You muttered, then let out a sigh when he bent his head, his mouth kissing your stomach and naval.

“They’re not here, love.” He chuckled, sarcastic bastard that he was, and you opened your mouth to sass him when he licked you long and appreciatively.

A moan left your mouth as he kissed and sucked at your center, your hands gripping his hair like a lifeline. When he lifted your hips higher for him and slid two fingers in deep, you could’ve swore the only word left in your vocabulary was his name as you gasped it over and over.

But when he stopped you lifted your head, turned on and annoyed and absolutely burning for him.

“Why’d you—” you stopped when he took off his pants, then reached for you, lifting you and laying you down against your pillows. “Nikolai.” You sighed against him when he kissed you, his tongue brushing into your mouth, and the feel of him made you writhe beneath his body.

“Say you’re mine.” He whispered, then licked into your mouth again, and you keened his name, his hands a bruising force against your hips. “Y/N.”

“Yours.” You gasped, feeling the first brush of him against your center. Gods you were about to explode. “Yours, Nik.”

And when he pushed inside, slowly, letting you feel every godsdammned inch of him as he pressed in deeper, your heart dropped into your stomach and your eyes squeezed shut. His hand brushed your face as he kissed your forehead softly, arms settling to frame your head.

You gripped his back, running your hands down it and scratching lightly when he moved, so agonizingly slow, the inside of you aching where your bodies met. He let out a ragged laugh near your ear and the sound wound you up even tighter.

“Don’t squeeze me so hard or this will be over embarrassingly fast, my love.” He murmured, kissing your nose, then your mouth. And you forced yourself to relax.

My love. You didn’t think you’d ever been so warm in your life, not when he pulled out and then pushed back in, shallow, slow thrusts he made as he lazily rolled his hips against yours. He felt so—oh. Oh.

“You feel so good, sweetheart.” He whispered, his voice strained. You pushed your hips into his, needing more.

“Please, Nik.” You gasped, taking his face in your hands as you pressed a desperate kiss against his mouth.

And so he picked up his pace, and soon he was fucking you so hard into the mattress that you can hardly breathe—could hardly think—especially when his fingers slipped between you and began to rub the sensitive bud right above where he thrust into you.

“Nik. Nik.” You moaned, gripping him as tightly as you could, and cried out when he bit and then kissed your neck carefully.

“I love it when you say my name.” He told you, licking the offending area he’d just nipped, and you came. Hard.

A choked gasp left your mouth as a jolt ran through you, your face turning to press against the pillows as he came with you, a low moan against your shoulder bringing you so quickly back to arousal it startled you. He continued to move lazily as he slowed, you still fighting for breath, when he cradled your face in his hands and brushed a piece of hair away from your eyes.

“I’m going to make love to you so many times you’ll forget there was ever another man inside you.” He said, as simply as if he was telling you the weather, as his eyes studied the bruise appearing on your neck. He smirked and leaned down to kiss it, making your body arch involuntarily into him.

“I want that.” You breathed, still gripping him hard, and he bent his head lower, moving down your body, his mouth closing over a sensitive breast.

“Whatever you want,” he murmured against your skin. “I’ll give you. The world. A crown.”

You tried not to think about everything his words implied, not when his mouth reached your naval, then lower, and he started working his mouth against you, again.

Helloooo good lord ladies I have truly mastered the nasty

Like and reblog for more!!

[purehoney]

Big Bad Dog (Jax Teller)

warnings: violence, name-calling, harassment. (nothing too detailed)

note: translated again, any error, google translator's fault

note 2: if you like it, please leave a comment or like

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n got off the bike easily, her hands resting on her husband's shoulders.

- Sure you don't want to come in? - the woman said extending the helmet.

- Yeah, I still have to meet with Opie - Jax pulled her by the hand, hugging her waist - but I'll come get you soon.

Y/n ran her hands through the man's blond hair. A whistle caught the couple's attention, diverting their gazes to the brunette passing by.

- Arg, I can't stand him! - y/n made a face.

Jax shifted on the bike, straightening up without letting go of his wife's waist.

- I don't know what you're still doing in this restaurant, with that asshole as your boss - the man clenched his fists.

Y/n chuckled and placed a kiss on his lips.

- We agree that it's best that I stay out of your "business"!

Jax watched the woman walk away into the establishment as Steve held the door for her. His hands itching to get off the bike and punch his face.

Y/n always told stories to Jax, about other waitresses became the boss's target for days and listened to everything from "compliments" to informal requests.

The guy was an asshole.

For the time being, and with great luck, y/n hadn't been one of them, perhaps because of never talking to the man or because of her husband's fame.

During their lunch break, y/n always called Jax, a habit of both of them. She took off her service apron and went to the back doors.

The woman then walked to the end of the parking lot, with the cell phone to her ear waiting to hear that voice she loved so much.

- Already out, y/l/n? - Steve, appeared from a distance through the back door.

"Not possible" she thought.

- Yeah, I'm on my break - pointed at the phone, y/n knew he was going to look for something to talk about so she turned away, still waiting for the line to connect. Steve, walked slowly while lighting a cigarette.

- You know... - the woman was startled by the man's voice so close, already standing by her side - that husband of yours...

She turned her entire body towards him and narrowed her eyes, putting her cell phone in her pocket.

Y/n just didn't know the call was answered

- What about my husband, Steve?

- I don't know, don't you think it's a little dangerous? - Steve laughed mockingly - you know, who lives this life, it doesn't last long, you will definitely need something better in its place...

- No, I don't think so - she crossed her arms - and I very much doubt that you are that "something" better!

The man raised his arms.

- Calm down, you don't need to be so stressed - he took a few steps towards her - clearly, he is can't control the woman he has, if it were me...

Y/n pushed the brunette away from her body and hurried back to work. - moron!

- motherfucker! - Jax said hearing the connection drop - I'll kill him!

The biker was at the bar in the club and walked to his motorcycle. Before he realized it, he was parking and entering the restaurant.

Y/n was serving some customers when she saw her husband coming in.

- Are you ready to go yet? - he said when she approached.

She sighed and faced him.

- Steve scheduled me for overtime, I'll still be late, you don't have to wait for me.

- You bet! - Jax sat at the table next to the window, lighting a cigarette. The woman smiled.

For a few more hours she worked serving some customers without her husband taking his eyes off her and, amazingly, the manager never appeared.

At the end of the day, she would take some dishes to wash in the back kitchen.

- I saw your husband out front - Steve said leaning against the door - I didn't know he was a guard dog too.

Y/n just ignored it.

Noticing the delay, Jax got up and walked to the back, greeting other waitresses.

As soon as he walked through the door, he could hear y/n's raised voice.

- Get away from me!

Steve was behind her pushing her against the sink.

Jax's blood boiled as he moved closer faster.

His hand pushed the brunette's head so hard against the nearest fridge next to the sink, causing him to lose his balance and the blonde to grab his neck from behind.

- Hi baby - she smiled relieved.

- Hey love - he squeezed the man - mind if I take out the trash now?

She shook her head as she took off her apron and name tag, listening to Jax punch her boss before they walked out the door.

- I'll wait for you outside.

A few minutes later, Jax walked out the front door of the restaurant as he wiped his hands on an old flannel and stuffed it in his pocket.

- Did you wait too long? He was very stubborn in understanding some things...

- No - she extended the helmet - how did you know...?

- I answered your call earlier, I heard the things he told you - the blonde got closer to her.

She hugged him around the waist and kissed his neck.

-Steve's right - y/n said and Jax raised his eyebrows, not quite understanding - looks like I do have a guard dog.

Jax laughed and sat his wife on his bike.

- Will I be able to go back to work?

- Not here... Or I'll have to go back to jail, no problem - he shrugged.

- Stop talking nonsense - y/n held his hands - thank you.

Jax lifted her body and cupped the woman's face in his hands.

- You're my old lady, no one will ever lay a hand on you!

[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.

[gripefroot]

Crooked Ways [2/22]

Vegeta had acclimatized himself to the regular comings-and-goings of Capsule Corp within hours of arriving there, all those months ago. Vacuums no longer made him jump, although he still eyed that asinine cat with suspicion from time to time. 

He didn’t think about it, but Capsule Corp had acclimatized to hosting an alien, too. Once one of the foot soldiers from Panchy’s army of housekeepers had screamed when he’d appeared without making a noise of warning, as was natural for humans. Then she’d greeted him with a smile and a “Good morning,” for a few weeks, now she only returned his mutual indifference. 

The kitchen, he’d learned first. After learning that the hired cooks had nights and weekends off, for whatever human custom. He had no such luxury of time off - he still needed to eat. The Briefs family made do with takeout and snacks, but that always fell short after hours of pushing his body to the absolute limits. So Vegeta had become accustomed to scarfing down cold cereal by the gallon (eaten out of Panchy’s punch bowls that she kept for parties), eggs by the dozen, and toast by the loaf. It never tasted as good, but Vegeta had stopped being picky with food before he’d been old enough to wear armor. Saiyans couldn’t afford to be picky with food. 

He was in the process of stirring eggs in a saucepan - his second dozen of the morning - when Bulma returned from her shower. Vegeta could have had sixty showers by the time she had one, but he held back that comment after eyeing her briefly over his shoulder. 

Not that he needed to. He knew she was there. But sensing Bulma Briefs and seeing Bulma Briefs were two entirely different things and caused two very different sensations in his body, he’d learned. 

Why didn’t she finish zipping that blasted jumpsuit? Why did she insist on displaying her cleavage for the world to see? 

“I guess it is time for lunch,” she remarked. A twinge of cold air from the refrigerator when she opened it to peer inside caught Vegeta on the arm. 

“You can have mine,” he said. “It’ll get you into the lab sooner to make the bots.” 

“Truly, your kindness is astonishing.” She flipped a sheet of teal hair over her shoulder, a smile stretched on her face. “Will you light me some candles, too? Pour the wine?” 

“Shut up and sit down.” 

To his surprise, she did. And when Vegeta had plated the steam pile of curdled eggs, he strode across the kitchen in two steps to drop the plate in front of her, sitting at the kitchen island. 

“Not bad,” Bulma said, prodding the haphazard pile with a fork. “They look fluffy.”

“I’m more concerned about the bots than your opinion of my cooking.” 

Behind the silvery steam her smile only widened. Immediately his spine stiffened, sure (from experience) that she was about to say something. He’d lived in her house long enough. Bulma twirled the fork in her fingers as if she hadn’t a care in the world. “You’re not getting the bots unless you listen to my every trivial opinion.” 

Irritation clenched him somewhere in the middle. Vegeta let out a puff of breath, suppressing the urge to pinch his nose. Instead he met those infuriatingly bright eyes with a glare, his own way of proving to her that he wouldn’t back down. 

“If I listen to your every trivial opinion, you’ll never have the time to make the bots,” he said. Her smile faded, but only slightly. With a shrug, Bulma scooped up a bite of eggs onto her fork before popping them into her mouth. For a second they both waited there, at a cusp he didn’t fully understand. Then her eyes widened slightly, her body heaving as she covered her mouth with a hand. 

“What?” Vegeta asked, impatience making the question short. 

She didn’t respond right away. Instead she fanned her face as she chewed, eyes gone shiny and wet with tears. Finally she swallowed, gasping in a breath before choking out, “You can add salt, you know. It’s in the cupboard.

“Salt?” 

“Salt,” Bulma repeated, staring at him. “You know, the mineral brains need to…oh, never mind.” She placed the fork by the plate with delicacy. “I’m sure you get enough salt from all the chips you eat.” Her gaze landed behind him, where Vegeta had propped a half-eaten bag against the towering egg cartons he’d been working his way through, shells and egg white dripping down the sides. One of her brows arched, as if daring him to take offense. “Then again,” she added with even more delicacy. “Who knows what your brain needs.” 

“Robots with missile capabilities,” Vegeta said at once. 

Her mouth twitched. Unfortunately he’d spent enough time with this woman in the last months that he knew the difference between her Haha-I-Win laughs and her That’s-actually-hilarious laughs. This was the latter. He knew it because something warm pricked up his spine, causing a shiver to form through his body - which he promptly disguised by turning his back on her with a scoff, opening the next carton of eggs. 

“You’re funny when you’re not bossing me around,” Bulma said. He heard her rummaging through cupboards, the crunching of something crisp devoured between her teeth. 

“You’re useless when I’m not,” Vegeta retorted, but it lacked his usual ruthlessness. A pool of egg white bubbled in the hot pan, the sunshine-yellow yolk a perfect sphere until he cracked another right on top of it. “I know what salt is,” he added in a growl, mostly to himself. 

“I’ll be in the pod,” she told him, voice growing fainter. He didn’t dare look back until he was sure she’d turned the corner out of the kitchen, eyes narrowing at the shadow of the hallway that had swallowed her up. 

What was it about her, anyway? That thing that drove him a little crazy. That made him sure when she was nearby, even without putting thought into sensing energy? Which, in the Briefs family abode, he’d quit trying. None of them put out anything interesting. 

That thing that had burned images in his mind: her tucking hair behind her ear, the way her teeth flashed when she grinned, the different tones of her laughs. The thing that made him wonder, just once or twice, what exactly was going on behind the pretty face of a woman who could spin a deadly robot together in under an hour. The only thing that could distract him from his single-minded training. 

Like just now. Carefully, not a hint of his inner turmoil visible from the surface, Vegeta stirred the eggs together until they started to harden a clump together. He should be planning his next training regime with the new robots, not thinking about the infuriating Bulma Briefs that made his spine tingle and his palms sweat. 

Wiping said palms on his thighs, Vegeta opened a cabinet with a scowl. 

Salt. Salt. 

Salt.

~

Unlike Dr. Briefs, Bulma programmed her bots to calibrate after setting up in their homing stations. That meant she had to force them behind the steel panels at the top of the training pod, precarious tip-toes on a rickety ladder. Also unlike her father, Bulma was either determined or unconscious of how she looked when waist deep behind the panels, her rear end sticking out and hips wriggling while Vegeta heard the occasional swear word and grunt reverberating behind the walls. 

Six hundred and eighty-five, six hundred and eighty-six, six hundred and eighty-seven…

With half his mind on his sit-ups and half his mind on that rickety looking ladder (he gave it an occasional glance, definitely not on the way up or down to staring at Bulma’s backside) Vegeta grit his teeth and clenched his core, wondering when he’d gotten so sloppy. 

Seven hundred and seven, seven hundred and eight, seven hundred and nine…

“Aha!” 

His gaze jerked back to her. Her toes finally landed on the rung of the ladder again, the top half of her body reappearing to duck beneath the propped steel panel. Even from several feet away Vegeta could see the dust smeared over her jumpsuit. Bulma grasped the edge of the panel, using all her weight to shove it down and into place with a satisfying click. 

“One more,” she announced, climbing back down the ladder. Vegeta didn’t respond, puffing breaths with each sit-up. Now that she could see him again, he didn’t dare tear his eyes away from a distant point across from him. 

Seven hundred and thirty-nine, seven hundred and forty…

The legs of the ladder scraped across the floor with a screech. Bulma was humming, so the insufferable shrill noise must not bother her human ears. Vegeta’s face was tightly wrapped in a cringe, hissing between his teeth. 

Her humming grew closer. He almost jumped out of his skin before realizing she wasn’t coming for him, but for the last of the spherical bots she’d left at the edge of the room. She had to bend over to lift it from the ground, that infernal humming unceasing, before tucking it under her elbow to saunter back to the ladder and the last homing station. 

The humming stopped. 

“You know,” Bulma called, mounting the ladder one rung at a time, using her only free hand to steady herself. “This would be a lot faster if I had an assistant who could fly.” 

“Call your boyfriend,” Vegeta bit back. 

Seven hundred and - dang it - I forgot - 

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” was her stiff response. The panel screeched when she opened it. Of course Vegeta already knew that - Yamcha was a name much maligned in the Briefs house, and currently forbidden from being spoken aloud. 

“Maybe you should get one.” 

“Maybe you should get your butt off the ground and help like I asked!” 

Her sudden outburst rattled Vegeta enough that his sit-ups took a tenth of a second delay. Her angry glare from across the room burned across his skin, and he glared right back. 

“You didn’t ask!” he snapped. 

“What do you think I meant, ‘I wish I had an assistant who could fly’?”

“Probably that you wish you had an assistant who could fly!” Vegeta’s sit-ups were getting uneven, his pace picking up without realizing. “If you want something, just say it outright, woman!” 

“Help me, you idiot!”

The words were enough that he froze mid-sit-up, breath caught in his throat until he saw she was standing on the top rung, not hurtling to her death on the floor. The bot was snug between her thighs, the panel held over her. Must be broken, if she couldn’t prop it up. Vegeta cursed, rolling onto his feet before kicking off the floor to fly across the room where Bulma waited. One hand was on her hip, a particularly impatient snarl pinching her blue brows together. 

“Thank you.” The words were laced with sneering sarcasm. Vegeta ignored that, covering her hand on the steel panel with his own so she could slip hers out. 

It was one thing to be watching (or to pretend not to be watching) the woman go about her work from across the room. It was another when she bent over to push the bot inside the wall and she bumped into him. Vegeta inhaled sharply, drifting back as far as he safely could without losing his hold on the panel and crushing Bulma beneath him. 

They weren’t touching anymore. However, those few inches he’d won also gave him a better view of her…shapely…

He cursed again, uncaring if she thought he was angry at her. Which, naturally she did, her voice tinny as it echoed back at him, “I’m going as fast as I can!”

“Go faster!”

“Maybe if you’d helped from the start I’d be done by now and you could get back to your precious training!” 

“Maybe if you hadn’t taken so long to get the bots made!” 

“Some things take time!” 

“Like getting a single robot in its homing station?” 

The rattling inside the wall went silent. Vegeta stared at her dusty jumpsuit ahead of him, trying to focus on the bright hair hidden in the shadows rather than her…nearer parts. Then she whipped around, crawling out of the space enough to snarl, “My dad used a different battery system in his last batch, so I had to adjust the settings in each of the - ”

“I don’t care,” Vegeta said shortly. “Are you done?”

Bulma’s eyes narrowed. “Are your little arms tired?” 

His teeth clenched so hard he heard the bones in his skull crack. “I am not little - ”

“Ooh, that struck a nerve!” To his surprise she laughed, more along the lines of Ha-I-Win. 

Vegeta considered dropping the panel on her - just a little bit - but she was ducking beneath it with her hands on the side of the ladder before he could decide if he could weather the consequences of that. As soon as she was clear, he dropped the panel with a slam and shot back to the floor, unwilling to linger too close to her any longer. 

“Now I’m done,” Bulma called down to him. “And my legs are tired from going up and down the ladder all morning. So if you don’t mind - catch me!” 

She flung herself off the ladder before he could do more than gape. Was she really - truly - that stupid? Evidently so - her freefall gave only a second of warning. Her aim was impeccable: she was going to land on his head if he didn’t do anything. He lifted his arms just in time and got a mouthful of floral-smelling, teal hair in his mouth for his altruistic effort. 

“Aww,” she said, her breath all warm on his cheek as he realized she’d looped an arm around his neck. “You do care.”

Heat rushed to his face with the vengeance of an exploding star. It didn’t help that she was cozying up all soft against him, it didn't help that he was fresh from the sight of her backside. So he did what any normal Saiyan caught in such an embarrassing bind of caring would do. 

Vegeta dropped her. 

Bulma’s yelp of surprise was cut in half by the thud of said backside (he really needed to think about something else) hitting the floor of the training pod. He got an elbow in his foot, which made him snark and jerk away - but not before noticing a familiar crack. 

A breath of surprise, and then she shrieked. 

He flinched at the noise, drawing a deep breath to start shouting back for her to shut up and give his ears a rest before noticing the scent of blood tickling his nostrils. Blood? But from what, how could - 

Bulma had curled over herself, bum parked firmly on the ground as she cradled her left hand against her chest. The shrieking stopped when he heard her take a shuddering breath - blessed quiet - and then her face whipped up to give him such a furious scowl that he actually backed up a step. Tears flooded from her eyes, face pale except the twin red blotches of her cheeks. He’d never say it aloud, but the ripe coloring made her prettier. More alive. More…

“You idiot! You broke my wrist!” 

“I did nothing of the sort,” Vegeta said at once, though a low curl of dread went around his stomach. “No one could possibly break a bone from a three foot drop.” 

She uncurled herself enough to show him her hand. The joint of her wrist was oddly bent. He saw blood, trickling over the cerulean veins that spiderwebbed beneath her delicate skin. 

Then he saw the red leave her cheeks so suddenly that not even a heartbeat passed before she started to tilt, eyes rolling in their sockets. 

And so Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans (dwindling as the number may be) caught a human in his arms for the second time in his life.

[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

[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!

[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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[jayspaceinc]

15 lines of dialogue: Max 🛠️

[last one!! For now 🥸]

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

1. “If you wanted to see me tied up, all you had to do was ask. Just face it, you're never gonna be able to really trap me. I’m always one step ahead. But it is so adorable how you keep trying honestly. You sweet little dickhead.” He pinched Greyson’s cheeks and ruffled his bedhead.

2. He stepped out of the bathroom where Max had been waiting. “I need you to see something.”

“Aren’t we past dick size comparisons at this age?”

3. “I mean it. You’ve got one more time.”

“What are you gonna do? Burn me? We’re online. Punch me? Okay, I’m used to that.”

“I still have the capability to choke you. You might not die but you’ll feel it.”

“Jokes on you. I like being choked.”

4. “Well now I have to know: what position do you play? Batter or catcher?” Celia's curious mind now fully interested as she leaned across the table.

“Both? You know how baseball teams switch sides after 3 outs right? It’s kind of the same scenario here.”

“Okay well which do you prefer?”

“Batter obviously. I’m not that kind of gay. No offence, Ayden.”

“I’m a top, asshole.”

“Really? Sorry you do not look—“

5. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Grey blurted a bit louder than he intended as the two caught a few stray glances.

“Language. We’re in public, sweetheart.”

6. “You really love playing hero.”

“I don’t have to play hero when I am one,” He gave a tired smile and pecked her cheek.

7. “Must you cause trouble everywhere you go?” Summer sighed, already seeing where this was headed.

“Of course, trouble’s my middle name.” Max, now back to his normal self, pecked her on the lips and followed Grey out.

8. “That is so rough, dude. You fucked her so bad she turned lesbian.”

9. Grey took the phone from her hands and dialed his mom's number but not actually having it in him to hit call. “I’m sure there are other forms of team building we could do.”

Max got up and hit the call button for him, “Too late, the phone's ringing.”

10. “A stressed and exhausted leader can’t lead and you look like an addict going through withdrawal,” He covered his mouth in disbelief that he had just said that. “That came out wrong. What I meant is you look tired and skinny! Not that there’s anything wrong with being skinny. Or an addict! I’m very pro-addict. Well, I’m not pro addict, you know? But like, your body, your choice and stuff. I’m going to stop talking now.” He fumbled over his words, stuttering and throwing filler words into the void as he tried to backtrack on his horrible phrasing from nearly a moment ago.

11. "Hey, customers don't have access to this area."

"Oh, really? Sorry we were just--"

Max tased the attendant in the side of the neck and kept walking down the steps as they were temporarily down.

"Max, why did you--"

"They'll be fine. Let's keep going."

12. “You dumped a bowl of punch on a girl!”

“Awe come on, I didn’t even mean it that way.”

“How did you mean it then?”

“Like when you finish a good game! Buen partido! Buen partido!” He shook his hands in the air as if he was thanking the crowd for his victory. He mocked the imaginary crowd goers that praised him for this win and his forever handsome looks.

13. “So what, we’re gonna sit in a circle and play a children’s guessing game?” Max queried.

14. “It just makes you feel so insignificant, doesn’t it?” Max asked after they had sat in silence for a long while.

“Hm?”

“All of these stars. All the planets. Knowing there could be anybody out there. And we’re all just.. living. On a grand scale, we’re specks. No one cares about the fluff of a dandelion right? It’s just..” he blew into his hand and let it wiggle in the air to simulate the fluff floating away. “Gone with the wind.”

15. Max set his crutches against the counter and wrapped his arms around Greyson, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Whatcha doing?” He grinned, happy his friend was awake again to mess with.

“I would push you off but your leg is broken. Lucky you.” Greyson sighed, already fed up with his antics. “I’m cooking. I was hungry and there’s plenty of food in here to make something.”

“Did you make enough for me too?”

[little-corritrice]

Fred & George ~ Christmas Gift

Walking out of the car, I inhaled the scent of the country, exhaling softly after. I opened my eyes to see Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, and Bill standing by the door. I smiled brightly at them, and ran at Bill. "Bill!" I squealed as he lifted me up, spinning us around as we held each other tightly. "Oh, my little y/n. I've missed you." He said, putting me down. I scoffed, punching his shoulder. "Stop calling me little!" I squealed, shaking my head. "Oh, I'm just playing." He teased, pushing me slightly. I huffed, turning to Mrs. Weasley. "Hi." I smiled, running into her open arms. "Oh, the last time I saw you was when you were a tiny little toddler." She said, squeezing me tightly. Me and the Weasley's grew up together through our parents. Unfortunately, my parents passed, but the Weasley's accepted me into their family. I haven't seen them for over 5 years from traveling to America. Bill always wrote to me, and that's how I'm here now for Christmas.

I was excited as we all caught up. Apparently, they haven't told the twins or Ginny and Ron about my arrival. See, I hadn't talked to them in forever, but Bill kept me updated with their shop, and how everyone is doing in school. I sat in the room, getting dressed. The shop would close in about 2 hours, so I was going to surprise them. I finished getting ready, and headed downstairs. "Going somewhere?" Bill said, stepping in front of the doorway. "Bill." I whined, pushing him slightly. "I'm going to the shop, okay?" I said, crossing my arms. He narrowed his eyes, then sighed. "Fine. Better be back before dark." He said in a brotherly tone. I took a deep breath and sighed. "Fine." I huffed before I apparated to Diagon Alley. I smiled as I was right in front of the shop. I walked up to the door, seeing a bunch of people, mostly kids, running around in the store. I opened the door, walking inside.

I stared in awe as everything was so lively and colorful. I shook my head and looked around for my targets. I walked around before spotting them on the stairs, looking down at Ron. I got to the second floor, walking just at the top. I leaned against the railing, smirking at Ron. He looked confused. "How much for me?" Ron asked, holding up a product. "5 galleons." They said, always in sync with each other. "I'm your brother." Ron tried to reason, but they just looked at each other and smirked. "10 galleons." They said before turning and going only a step or two when they spotted me. "That's not nice, now is it boys?" I smiled, seeing them shocked. "y/n!" Fred yelled, lunging at me. I giggled, latching onto him. "Hi, Freddie." I said softly as he spun me around. "When did you get here? Oh, I missed you. I wanted you to see the shop open, but you weren't here." He rambled on. "I know, I know. But hey, I'm here now, and I'm not leaving ever again." I smiled, kissing his cheek. He patted my head before going to help customers.

I turned to George, seeing him leaning against the railing, still in shock. "Georgie." I smiled, lunging onto him, burying my face in his neck. He held my tightly, kissing the side of my head. "I missed you." I whispered softly, holding him tighter. "You don't know how long I've wanted to hug you for." He said, pulling away. I smiled brightly, moving his hair from his forehead. "Don't worry. I'm spending Christmas with you guys. We have plenty of time to catch up." I said, pulling him down so I could kiss his head. "I'm like your early Christmas gift." I joked, patting his chest as he chuckled. "Well, I definitely love this Christmas gift." He said, making me beam with joy. "So, show me around, will ya?" I asked, grabbing his arm. He nodded, and we got Fred as well. He instantly started talking about all the products with a huge smile, and a sense of pride. I smiled at both of them, a feeling of love, contentment, and being proud of them swarming in me.