Millie Bobby Brown Aesthetic Novels & Stories

Sabrina met me by the entrance as we walked in, she was stunning as always, matched me in her gold dress that matched mine, she wore her hair down in the soft blonde waves smokey eyes and nude pink lips with killer heels! ‘Hey gurl you look great!’ she airs kisses me as she hands me a drink, we clink classes and I take a sip, its strong and the taste burns my throat as I swallow it. An arm wraps around my waist as Millie appears bringing me in to a tight hug. She has her red loose curls down red lips and wearing a black mesh lacy number that I can see half the men here drooling as she walks by.

She was shivering now from the aftermath of taking an unpleasant swim in an icy river and so was I. She dangled the keys in front of me and she tried to stop her teeth from clattering. "You are a psychopath, Ari. You were seriously going to throw me back into the river weren't you?" She asked me. Her honey brown eyes glittering like it had a simmering liquid on it. I realized suddenly that she was beautiful. I guess it was one of those things one sees if they are not carrying a dangling girl over their shoulder like a homicidal Maniac. She couldn't be a year or two younger than me and she was pretty…really pretty with her perfect posture and wasp thin waist, her long eyelashes coupled with h

Poppy snatched up the bag of her clothes, seething at the disregard for her things, “I may not be a rich, spoiled heiress who gets the best of the best. I worked hard for what I had and I doubt very much that if you were on your own at 17 you could have done better while paying for college and working for a thieving bitch. So fuck off. No one asked me what I liked, what colors or styles I preferred. No one bothered to see if I liked frilly dresses or pants. No. You all just decided that I was some mindless, brainless toy to play dress up with. I’m a fucking human being. With fucking opinions. And I absolutely hate the color pink. Seriously, I’m a red head. Do you know how bad this clashes?”

We’d just stepped out of the boutique, our new jeans making that familiar rustle, when Millie came charging at us like a lavender whirlwind. Tori was right behind her, arms full of shopping bags, looking kind of amused but mostly exhausted. "Atlas! Frank! Check this out!" Millie twirled around, her dress swirling around her thighs—soft and short, pale lavender with tiny white flowers, the kind you’d expect to see in a spring meadow, not in a mall. "It’s perfect. Flowy but not frumpy, cute without being too baby-doll. I’m totally obsessed."

But Anita’s hand clutched my arm under the table, sharp and trembling, confirming that she saw the same thing I did. Melissa Brown? Her long sleeved blouse was tight around her body, buttoned incompletely from her chest up to her collar. The brown skirt she had on, outlined her shape that has suddenly gone perfect. Her hair flowing straight and curled. Her nails, her make-up, everything about her appeared different. She moved with an authority that filled the room instantly. Her gestures, her posture, the calm confidence in her eyes… She looked like someone untouchable. Someone entirely different from the woman I used to know.

Millie then attacked me with winged liner and red lipstick, declaring me her new hair bestie, and invited me for drinks. “We need to sort this out.” Millie leans over, pulling up the baggy-sleeved T-shirt I put on this morning. “I’m going through a restyle. This is my comfy phase.” “Oh. Men want class and something left to the imagination nowadays.” Millie sips her mojito and gazes at me wisely. “You have so much potential, a whole other class of sexy. I mean, have you looked at that hot girl in the mirror today? You’re truly stunning” Millie is another class of sexy, and I haven’t stopped staring at her since the walk over here. I may not have any attraction to women, but I can appreciate t

Bobby'd felt his cock spring to attention, and even though he had no desire to be part of a threesome, it was a turn-on all the same. Bobby came to think of the women as 'Michael's girls', and the fact that there were glaring similarities hadn't escaped his notice. All of Michael's girls were beautiful, and most of them were blonde and appeared to be surgically enhanced. Bobby couldn't imagine that the huge breasts paired with tiny waists occurred naturally. They emitted a high maintenance vibe as well. Deanna had been quite the princess, eager to have all that his money could provide. No, thanks, he thought to himself. I want no part of that mess.

No — this time it was the glow. Katherine Brown entered the office dressed in a simple, cream-colored pantsuit that hugged her hips and swayed slightly as she walked. Her hair was tied back — still messy, but in that purposeful, editorial way that made it look like she'd just stepped out of a Vogue spread titled "Power Meets Rebellion." A thin silver bracelet with a tiny charm winked from her wrist, and her eyes held a spark that hadn't been there before. People stared. Silently. Openly. Confused.

My reflection. I could barely recognize the person looking back at me. The green in her eyes is so dull that the pale blue is much more visible. The midnight color of her hair, the same one the girls used to envy before because of how soft and shiny each strand was, can be compared to a night with cloudy skies. It’s lifeless and lacking nutrition. Those lips that used to be oblivious to the sensation of a frown now barely lift to give even a fake smile. ‘That’s not our Bobbie.’

he said proudly with a smug expression but I was not irritated for some unknown reasons I just arched my brow at him yes no need to deny it the guy was too handsome and he reminds me of some one who? I racked my brain hard Mason yes he reminds me of John Mason even if the both of them were opposite because of the their different features they sure could compete in when it comes to beauty. I could just picture them posing for " black or blonde" " Hey brownie you are out again" his voiced made me snap out of my thoughts and I realized once more that I got lost