Crushin' Candy

Summary

So damn sweet, I cause cavities.

S'up? I'm Candy. Excuse the name. Mom was a stripper back in her prime and I was a client gone wrong. Now stuck behind the bar, she was eager for me to join the family business. No thanks.

The only circles I run in are the ones my bubblegum bubbles make. Don't worry about my teeth though, sugar-free as always. I'm not a complete psycho. Oh, except for my passive-aggressive, potty-mouthed, imaginary best friend who happens to be a gummy bear. That part is pretty nuts.

I was thoroughly enjoying myself, doing whatever the hell I wanted until a group of model-worthy bikers try to muscle in on my heist. They don't seem to realize those with barely any personal belongings tend to grow protective of what's theirs, and by taking one of my beloved possessions, they've signed their own death warrants.

Fooling them with a sickly sweet smile, I'll slip past their defenses and claim back what's rightfully mine, no matter the cost. Putting bullies back in their place when no one else can is my specialty. No one screws over Candy Crystal twice.

P.S. yeah—stripper name game is on point.

Contains mature themes.