Misa Amane Shoes Novels & Stories

I groaned, trying to get out of the fit. Amanda ordered a maxi dress for me, with tiny sleeves which did nothing but a poor job holding my tits in place. "He liked it. That's why I ordered it for you." "Everything is on display. I really can't."I stomped my feet angrily. Megan dropped the latest puma shoes at my feet, urging me to wear them. I sighed in defeat before slipping my legs in them. "Ow ow! I love the outcome."Amanda squeals, giving me a spank.

Usha walked to the fountain wall and spun around in one spot. Miria looked around and tried to search for it, but she didn’t see her shoes anywhere. “Where…? Where is my shoes, Usha? I put it here, but where is it now?” Miria looked a bit in panic. If only there’s a legwear shop in this square, she would have bought a pair of shoes or sandals. But no, there’s no legwear shop here that she could buy legwear from. She sighed. “I think I have to make do with this, Usha…”

Amara’s inner sass—the real Amara Channel Aragon—was ready to clap back. She slowly raised an eyebrow and gave the woman a once-over. Red fuchsia halter top, booty denim shorts, and fuzzy knee-high black boots. Jimmy Choo, launched 2019… off-season. A smirk curled on Amara’s lips. Game on. She had a pair of those boots at home. Who is she to talk about fashion when it’s clear she doesn’t even understand the concept? Even though a wave of irritation surged inside her—for both the woman and her arrogant boss, who still hadn't stopped throwing dagger-like stares—Amara forced herself to stay composed.

he said to Amora who nodded and walked over to the shoe rack. Amora nodded and made her way to the shoe rack, which displayed an array of footwear options in varying sizes, brands, styles, and colours. "Must be from my company too," Antonio added and crossed his arms around his chest watching her trudge from one rack to another until she settled for a red-coloured shoe. Antonio's brand name was heavily imprinted on one side of the shoe. "Come over here," Antonio ordered and Amora walked towards him. He collected the shoes from her and began to wear them on her. He stiffened a smile staring at her ankles, "You have beautiful ankles," he complimented while Amora's cheeks heated up immediately.

And Aronohai Misa’s best friend and wrangler. She walks past the curious eyes of the elites and clamps a hand down on Misa’s shoulder. Something only she can do because they are almost the same height— and she is the one least likely to get her arm ripped off by Misa. All I know about Amane Riko is that she is known as an alpha with an easygoing demeanor, and she isn’t known to be cruel to omegas… “You all seem to be enjoying the show…”. She might as well have sprayed teargas at the spectators with the speed at which they dispersed.

Black shoes on his feet, he set out to the little area they were meeting in to go to the dance together. Amara showed up in tight capris and a tank, light cream that had obviously seen some paint before, though almost in a deliberate way, paired with a very thin grey cropped tee that hung loose over her. The paint looked slightly dulled, but still worked in the outfit. A long, plain gold necklace fell down over the shirt, accenting in a simple yet effective way. She wore flats, which also looked as if they'd been through a bit, but in a fashionably distressed sort of way. She grinned at him, small purse over her shoulder. "Don't you look fancy."

It reflected the depth of her eyes and possessed a quiet strength that suited her better than any bold color. ​"It's perfect, Amara," Alessia murmured, a soft, approving smile on her face. "It looks as though it was made for you." ​They then moved on to accessories. They chose sleek, strappy heels—gold for Emilla, matching silver for Alessia. For Amara, they chose delicate silver heels and minimalist jewelry: a fine silver chain and diamond studs. The simplicity was intentional, ensuring the focus remained on the dress and on Amara herself.

I also didn't need breast tape as I had the perkiest breasts in the whole of America. Delusional? Yes. And I didn't give a damn. I stood in front of the rack containing my shoes. My eyes scanned the array of shoes before it stopped and honed on Amina Muaddi's Jahleel 95mm denim boot that stopped directly on my knee. I was ready to give my employees something to talk about today. A bag came next. It was one I had gotten as a birthday gift from my distant cousin over the sea. I hadn't worn it since it was given to me but I decided to today.

“I haven’t worn the ones on this side along with the shoes.” It’s a good thing Maya and I are around the same shape as Tina, me being three-inch taller would not be a problem with this massive collection. Maya squealed, “shoes?” Tina rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “I knew you only needed me for my shoes.” In Maya’s defense, Tina has a shoe collection for a Hollywood A-list celebrity. From Miu Miu, Manolo Blahnik, Jimmy Choo to Gucci, she has them all.

Sia’s voice dripped of admiration. "I wish," Mari said giggling, then turned to me. "You look, perfect sis." "Thanks. And now I need a sh-" "A shoe!" Sia's squeak cut me off. She half-ran to us with a pair of silver heel sandals that had metallic Rhinestones as ankle straps. They were perfect for the dress. Sia could easily be my savior for the day. I didn't even realize when she left for the shoe section until she held the shoes in front of me, grinning like a two-year-old.