#also a glass mannequin head | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thinemoonshine · 9 months ago

Text

୨୧ 𝓣𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐏! 𝓶𝐲 𝓱𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝓳𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐬! ୨୧

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ synopsis: in which the maknae line’s hearts go THUMP! THUMP! in a fluttery way when (y/n) does a certain something ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

enhypen 8th fem!member x maknae line content(s): fluff, (y/n) rizzing the maknae line(unintentionally), maknae line being (y/n)'s no.1 fans type: oneshot

playing make-up/dress-up together (k.sw)

"what'chu doin'?~" sunoo skittishly asks as he casually steps into (y/n)'s bedroom. every once in a while, the members stop by her private apartment just for a little break before a nearby schedule or a random hangout—and today is one of those days.

"trying out some new makeup," (y/n) answers simply and glances at him as he closes the door behind him—drowning the cheerful rowdiness of the members from her living room. she then turns to him fully, spinning on her dressing table's stool. "hey, wanna try them together. you can be my mannequin head."

his eyes instantly upturn to crescents while his lips pull to a bright, ear-to-ear grin. "yeah!"

within a blink, he's plopped himself onto her bed, legs criss-crossed and hands tucked into the small space in the center, keeping them warm. he follows (y/n) with both his sparkling gaze and head, bobbing left and right in accordance to her like a pup. she climbs onto the bed on her knees before sitting right in front of him—both hands full with her fresh products.

"let's see here..." (y/n) says as she drops them onto the spot between them and soon sunoo’s cheeks are in all shades of pink and lips all glittery from her experimentations.

“hmm…i don’t really like this one…” she mutters to herself as she stares at her mannequin head’s soft lips that are in a matte rosy colour. using a makeup wipe, she starts cleaning the tint off with gentle, smooth motions—unaware of the gaze that is transfixed on her.

he doesn’t know when and how exactly it started, but he’s come to adore it whenever she plays with her makeup on him. he thinks it’s such a sweet, adorable thing but it’s also because he feels all…ticklish and fluttery inside whenever it happens.

the way her brush strokes his skin with the most softest of grazes, the way the cold wetness of the wipes feel hydrating and refreshing—cooling down his warm flushed face—and the way her fingers caress his skin so tenderly, carefully but not in a way where she treats fragile glass. but in a way where she seems to admire and treasure the most loveliest of masterpieces.

little does she know that in these moments, he finds her to be the most endearing, the most exquisite of arts. it makes his heart go a little over its speed limit sometimes—to the point where he forgets to breathe and causing her to chuckle and say that even though she forbid him from moving, that doesn’t mean literally everything in him has to stop.

“this one looks so good on you!” (y/n) squeals suddenly and holds her mirror up to his face so he can see. “don’t you think so too?”

sunoo looks at his reflection and gasps at the lip tint and blush that compliment his porcelain skin perfectly, his hand flying to hover his mouth. “wah! you’re right! what colour is this??”

“this!” his ‘makeup artist’ exclaims and shows him the products with a cheeky grin. “do you want to keep them? they look so good on you, i think i might just let you have them.”

sunoo stares at the blush and tint before shaking his head with eyes shut—gazing back up at her with a grin on his pretty rosy lips. “nope. we can just share! i’ll just go to you if i want to use them and you can help me put it on.”

“oh! okay~” she sings and gently cups his jaw, igniting fireworks in him that buzzes beneath his skin and he smiles—getting scolded almost instantly because she can’t clean the tint off efficiently.

when she tackles him (y.jw)

“i’m here!!” (y/n) announces as she walks into the boys’ dorm, ready for their schedule. jungwon who’s watching tv in their living room stands instantly from the couch like a curious meerkat and opens his arms wide.

(y/n) sees and copies the wide smile that stretches on his face before just rushing to him like a bullet—crashing into him and tackling him down onto the couch to which he laughs loudly with arms naturally wrapping around her.

“are the others not awake yet orr?” she asks as she sits up with jungwon despite his visceral want for them to stay cuddled up longer. but it’s better this way—especially when his heart is running 10 miles per second. if she knows, she’ll tease the living daylights out of him.

jungwon shakes his head. “they are awake. just getting dressed.”

“oho~ as expected, our leader is so early~” she sings teasingly but with a hint of admiration laced within. he chuckles with another shake of his head.

it doesn’t take long for the rest of the members to finish up and soon, their manager comes to pick them all up to shoot another episode of en-o’clock.

oh, how quickly (y/n) is drowned with dread and despair the moment they realise that it’s a horror special. she dislikes horro—no, she hates horror.

not that she’s a scaredy-cat but she is prone to shock—always easily startled by the most subtle noises and motions especially with heightened senses from the silence. but in most cases, she calms once she knows where it’s from.

still, that doesn’t stop her from jumping out of her skin and clinging onto the closest person like a koala on a branch whenever she’s jolted. and luckily for her, she’s partnered up with jungwon who’s beginning to think that maybe this horror episode won’t be so bad.

“you okay?” won asks, acting like (y/n)’s handsome and gallant knight as she practically attached herself to his side. he looks down at her, grinning at her fearful expression as she bobs her head. “alright, let’s—”

a thrill shriek tears through the deafening silence and pierces their ears like an overheated kettle—reverberating in the school corridor they stand in and the pair jumps.

“ACK—!” jungwon sounds when he stumbles amidst his frantic escape—dragging (y/n) over and under as they roll and topple on one another.

so much for heroism.

low ponytail and a bob (n.rk)

being the only girl in a male dominated setting, (y/n)’s in charge of introducing them to the wondrous world of hairstyles. from using the basic rubber ties and scrunchies, to claw clips and even none at all to tie the hair—able to use the hair itself as a knot.

and because of this, the members come to have their own preferences. for example, nishimura riki has found an undeniable liking to her ‘loose ponytail and bob’ combo. the first time he saw her with short hair that stops below her ears, it’s like the rosy tint on his permanent glasses seem to thicken—adopting a tunnel vision for her and only her.

“you cut your hair?” he asks slowly, contrasting the speed in which he uses to practically teleport to her. the girl furrows with confusion before realisation settles.

“oh! no, i didn’t. this is a low, loose ponytail with the sides pulled to cover my ears. didn’t want my hair to look too flat,” she explains and twists her neck to show the style.

now, it’s riki’s turn to raise his brows at the new finding. just as she said, there’s a low ponytail cascading down her back but her ears are covered by the left and right sections of her hair dragged to the front while the strands are still joined within the tie—not pulled completely to let them escape the bind while the middle section of her hair covers her nape.

“does it look weird?” she asks once she swivels on her heels back towards him.

he shakes his head. “no, it’s…nice. it looks pretty.”

a gulp and shifty eyes expose the bashfulness that blooms in him while the redness of his ears and cheeks discloses the erratic beats of his heart that’s having a full on party of its own—seizing the dance floor in the most frenzied manner and popping confettis that tickle his insides in a way he wants to vomit them out.

to just cover the floors with millions of tiny colourful sheets before burying himself under the pile in hopes it’ll suffocate him enough and thus, preventing him from draping (y/n) over his shoulder like a potato sack and hogging her all to himself. he has to remind himself that that’s basically kidnapping.

“you should do this one more often,” he grumbles out amidst a fake ‘throat-clearing’ and (y/n) beams.

POP! his heart goes overdrive.

DING! DING! DING!

ni-ki: 0 (y/n): 1

“i will!” is all the girl says, oblivious to his internal fluster and she walks away with a cheery, mindless skip in her steps.

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen x female reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #ni-ki x reader #enhypen oneshot #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagine #enha oneshot #enhypen 8th member #riki x reader #niki x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #enhypen maknae line #maknae line x reader

428 notes · View notes

illdowhatiwantthanks · 9 months ago

Text

The Dogs

Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader Warnings: violent crime (I mean it is Criminal Minds...), nudity (but nothing graphic/sexual), trauma, nightmares, hurt/comfort, established relationship (let me know if I've missed anything) Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Takes place after the Tobias Henkel incident (02.14 & 02.15). JJ comes home from this case deeply traumatized and super guilty about Reid, but she's not used to showing emotion or needing comfort. Reader is there to show her that it's okay to be weak.

“JJ.”

She jumped when you said her name, shivering under the shower stream. She’d been in there for over an hour, silent, unmoving. You’d poked your head in to check on her a few times, but she’d said she wanted to be alone. You were worried about her. You’d been worried about her since that call the night Spencer went missing. The way her voice had shaken, you could tell she wasn’t okay, but you could also tell that she wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Spencer was safe now, doped up on Dilaudid, but coming off of it safely at the hospital. JJ would still be there if Hotch hadn’t made them all go home to sleep.

It was late, but JJ wasn’t sleeping. At first, she’d had the water so hot you were afraid she’d burn herself, but now she’d been in there so long that the hot water was out, and you could see her body shaking under the cool stream, her eyes glazed as she stared at nothing.

She didn’t talk to you as you stepped into the bathroom, didn’t even look at you. You couldn’t tell if her face was streaked red from how hot she’d had the shower or from crying, but either way it was clear that JJ was not okay.

You turned off the water and she shook violently, whether from cold or trauma it was hard to tell. You tried to meet her eyes but she wouldn’t look at you. It was like she was numb, like she’d gone into some kind of coma. You didn’t know what to do to help her, so you just tried to keep her body safe and comfortable.

“You’re freezing, honey,” you whispered, carefully draping a towel around her shoulders and wicking the moisture away from her body. She let you dry her off, still and silent, like a mannequin. So unlike JJ, who usually liked to be the one in control–of her body and yours.

You gently cupped her face, worry covering yours, then took her hands. “Come here.”

You led her to the bedroom and pulled pajamas onto her. Underwear. Sweatpants, sweatshirt. She sat obediently on the edge of the bed as you combed her hair, tugging her knees to her chest. Lastly, you got her a glass of water and made her drink some of it. JJ didn’t speak once the entire time. She didn’t look at you. She didn’t touch you. Honestly? You were terrified. She wasn’t okay. She didn’t have to be okay, of course. But you wanted her to be able to show it. But maybe this was how JJ showed she wasn’t okay. Maybe it was different from your way.

When she lay down in bed, you carefully draped the covers over her, gingerly climbing in. You watched her for anything–any sign of life, any sign of anything other than being nearly catatonic, but she just lay there, wet hair splayed around her, eyes glazed and distant.

You hesitantly wrapped an arm around JJ’s waist, pulling her gently into you. You kissed her shoulder, using your other hand to run slow fingers through her hair. It felt odd, almost uncomfortable, to hold JJ when she wasn’t also inching herself back to get as close to you as possible. When she wasn’t lacing her fingers with yours, resting her arm on yours. But you held her nonetheless. Whatever JJ needed from you, however she needed you, you would be there.

“I love you, Jayje,” you whispered. “I’m right here.”

She said nothing, and you turned off the light, wrapping your body around JJ’s and trying your best to translate all the love and care and devotion you held for her through the fabric of your skin. Soon, you fell into a fitful sleep, JJ bundled tightly in your arms. You’d never let her go again, not when she was like this.

You woke up sometime in the night to JJ turned away from you, sobbing so hard she was shaking and coughing. She was curled on her side in the fetal position, and she looked for all the world like a bedraggled puppy. Your heart shattered. She always tried so hard to be strong. For you. For all the other people on her team that she assumed had it “worse” than she did. And she was strong. She was so strong. But even the strongest people have to let themselves be weak sometimes.

You felt like you might cry yourself, watching her fall apart. “Oh, honey,” you breathed, nearly jumping over her so you could look in her eyes, so you could wrap her up and pull her tear-stained face to your chest.

“Shh,” you cooed, pressing your face against the top of her head as you held her. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

“It’s my fault,” she gasped between sighs. “He almost died!”

“JJ, baby, that was not your fault. It could’ve been anyone. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I left him alone,” she cried, shuddering.

“Honey, shh,” you continued, rocking her. “It’s not your fault. Spencer’s safe. You’re safe.”

But she couldn’t stop crying. You’d never seen her cry so hard, so hard you thought she might throw up. You kept shushing her, holding her against you like a baby, rocking her and soothing her. It broke your heart to see her like this. You would do anything, anything, to take away this guilt she was feeling, this trauma that seemed to be swallowing her whole. And, somehow, at the same time, you were also so deeply honored that Jennifer Jareau felt safe enough around you to let herself fall apart. You just wished she didn’t have to.

When her sobs quieted to small, shaky shudders, you brushed her hair out of her face, wiping away her tears. She had huge circles under her eyes, and she could barely keep them open.

“Jayje, honey, go to sleep. It’s okay, I’m right here.”

“I can’t,” she admitted, barely above a whisper.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “How come?”

“The dogs,” she answered, shivering, tears glistening in her eyes again.

Of course. She’d seen a woman ripped to death by starving dogs and then had to shoot the dogs to protect herself. Who wouldn’t have nightmares after that?

You cupped her face, placing soft kisses on her forehead, her eyelids, on her mouth, wet with tears.

“Just try, honey, please,” you begged. “You have to sleep.”

Another tear dripped down her face.

“I’ll stay up, okay? I’ll be right here if you get scared.”

“I don’t want you to have to do that.”

“JJ,” you breathed, rubbing your thumbs along her eyebrows as she struggled to keep her eyes open. “It’s okay. I love you. Let me take care of you, alright?”

JJ seemed to have used up all the fight in her. She buried her face in your chest, exhaling deeply, and let her eyes stay closed. You kissed the side of her head and cradled her there and as you watched her fall asleep–tear-stained face half-covered by your sweatshirt, fists gripping onto handfuls of it, the little huffs of breath that you knew meant she had fallen asleep–you knew there was not a thing in the world you wouldn’t do to protect this woman.

You were just about to drift off when JJ jerked awake, gasping and flailing.

“Hey, hey,” you said, pulling her close. “It’s okay. You’re okay, you’re safe. I’m right here.”

She looked around with frightened eyes then, as her heartbeat and breathing slowed again, twined her legs with yours. She wrapped both her arms around your abdomen, squeezing you tight, as if she was afraid she’d drift away in the night, as if she wanted to be tethered to you.

You held her so tight that night, so close. Usually JJ was the protector, JJ was the strong one, but tonight it was you, and you were glad to do it. You knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you’d fight off a thousand rabid dogs to keep her safe. That you would enter into the dark recesses of her mind to fight off all the dark things that lodged there. That you would shield her very body with your own.

Something changed that night, between you and JJ. But it wasn’t a bad change. It was like the ringing of a bell, the finding of an equilibrium. It was you knowing that you could be strong, and JJ knowing that she could be weak. It was the somersaulted back-and-forth of a relationship going still and peaceful in the knowledge that you were each other’s lifeline, each other’s outstretched hand, each other’s port of calm in a whole world of storm. It was love that let itself be seen. You couldn’t go back. And you didn’t want to.

#jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x fem!reader #jennifer jareau fluff #jennifer jareau fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #hurt/comfort

174 notes · View notes

heartfeltcherie · 9 months ago

Note

omg i saw your requests are open and could you do something fluffy with lucifer? maybe like you see something and want to buy it, but can’t and so he surprises you.

i genuinely think i suck at writing for lucifer but will that stop me? nope!

☾. °. ࿐ ` , •

lucifer was the sweetest boyfriend ever. always asking to hold your hand (though, you tell him he never has to ask), always making sure he’s walking on the outside of the sidewalk and you on the inside, always making pinkie promises with you. he was so unbelievably… perfect.

you were the first person he opened up to about lilith and the ideas he had had for heaven that made him fall into hell; and you listened with an open mind and a heart that you decided would beat solely for him.

it was now your fifth date, walking the streets of pentagram city. the day had gone beautifully with your arm linked around lucifer’s, the sky painted different shades of red. you followed in each other’s steps as fellow sinners were beginning to close up shop for the day.

there was one place in particular that caught your eye — ellie’s pride boutique. so good, you’ll double die! with the white lettering on a red sign, lights flashing all around it. it surely caught your attention. and lucifer noticed as he watched you with so much adoration in eyes as you went up to the big glass window, putting your hands beside your face to get a better look inside.

it was a beautiful dress, one that looked like it came out of the many fairytales you’d seen when you were still alive, a kid.

“see something you like, lovey?” lucifer’s beside you now, also taking a turn in looking through the shop’s window. “wow! that dress is amazing! i-i think it’d look really good on you… erm… know it would” he nervously laughs. “don’t you think?” you laugh at his awkwardness. it’s cute.

“i think it’s a very pretty dress, luci”

you’re putting your hand out to lay on lucifer’s chest, only to feel the soft material of his duck-patterned sheets. blinking your eyes open, rather confused, you sit up in your shared bed wondering where your doting boyfriend was.

and then you hear commotion coming from the living room.

was he creating more rubber duckies?

slipping out of bed to where the noise was coming from and just peaking your head around the corner, you see lucifer rushing around like a mad man.

and then you also see a mannequin… and that dress you saw yesterday in the window.

oh, you felt really bad.

“this has to be perfect! oh gosh, i hope she hasn’t woken up yet, i haven’t even made the tea ye- oh hi, dear!” his blonde locks are a mess and his coat is off, leaving you to see that striped shirt that you think he looks oh-so handsome in; your heart does flips on the spot. “hi, luci. what’s all this?” you point to the elephant in the room — or more-so, behind lucifer.

“oh! r-right!” he clears his throat, making sure his hair is back in order. “my dear, i saw the way your eyes lit up when you saw this dress in the window, and i couldn’t help myself. so… i woke up early this morning to go and make quick purchase of it”

you step closer, completely in awe over the fact that lucifer would do something like this for you… and the dress, of course.

“lucifer, it’s gorgeous… but you didn’t have to do this for me. i-i could’ve saved up money”

“and have you wait a year or a few months? honey, we both know you suck at saving… and spending”

“you have a point”

he takes the dress off the mannequin — with shaky hands and a bunch of nerves as to not ruin the dress. he puts the beautiful piece in your hands.

“here! go try this on! i’ll make us some morning tea!”

you make your way to the washroom and you have to admit, the dress suits you so well — you feel like a princess. your eyes keep focused on the mirror, not truly believing that such a beautiful piece of clothing was adorning your body and made you look like what fairytales were written about. you feel slightly nervous walking out to show lucifer.

he’s sat on the couch, a cup of tea in his hand as he sips from it and one resting on the coffee table in front of him.

“your highness”

lucifer looks over the rim of his cup and as soon as his eyes meet yours, he spats out his drink and becomes a coughing mess.

“oh my golly! darling! you look…” you giggle at his blushing face, curtseying as both hands hold the bottom fluff of your dress. you can’t deny, you’re a flustered mess yourself, wearing something so elegant in front of the king of hell. sure, you’re together, but his title still had that effect on you.

“yeah? how do i look?” you ask shyly. lucifer gets up from his spot, setting his tea cup gently beside yours. he now stands in front of you, his hand coming up underneath your chin, his palm soft against your skin.

“you look as beautiful as the day we met”

please reblog/comment, it’s greatly appreciated ♡

#❥ lexi’s daydreams #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar fanfiction #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer

197 notes · View notes

alfredosauce50 · 5 months ago

Text

Night at the Museum

[America x reader]

Rating: M Word count: 5, 887 Synopsis: You and Alfred decide to visit New York’s Museum of Natural History for old time’s sake. In a stroke of bad luck, you two get locked in overnight, unaware and unprepared for the dangers lurking within. It’s where history comes alive, and he ends up in a dangerous game of cat and mouse with a bloodthirsty warlord. The whole time, he’s also wrestling with his feelings for you, and he doesn’t know which is harder. Solipsism: knowledge of anything outside one’s own mind is unsure; the external world and other minds cannot be known and might not exist outside the mind.

“The more you know about the past, the better prepared you are for the future.” — Theodore Roosevelt

“Man, we haven’t been here since we were little kids,” Alfred took it all in as he made it inside, to where he was greeted by the skeleton of Tyrannosaurus rex in an awe-inspiring pose. With its head bowed toward the entrance, he and other patrons were greeted by a set of razor-sharp teeth grinning down with a hunger for the ages. “I wonder if anything’s changed. Probably a lot.”

“A bunch of stuff, actually. But it looks like they did a huge revamp on all the wax figures,” You lifted your gaze from a brochure you collected from the front. The museum of natural history wasn’t half as impressive as the Smithsonian, but it had a special place in both of your hearts. “They’re meant to be super realistic now. You know, the whole ‘history comes alive’ pizazz.”

“Huh. Then what would be the difference between here and Madame Tussaud’s?” He glanced at you.

“The people here are worth remembering.”

“Good point.”

As local New Yorkers, it was tradition to come back every once in a while. Yellow cabs, subway crazies, and the best pizza in the world — there was no other city quite like the Big Apple, and you two decided to swing by during your semester break to reconnect with your roots. Needless to say, it was nice to get away from the upbeat chaos of life on campus.

“You think you’re gonna go to Arthur’s Christmas party?” He asked you, peering around the room of American history. There was a shining stagecoach pulled by four black horses, mannequins in confederate and union uniforms with their guns trained at each other, a giant moose, and eagles watching over everything else.

“Well, we kinda have to. Can you imagine how upset he’d be if we didn’t? He’d probably be heartbroken.”

“Yeah, but I get crazy diarrhea every time.” He scoffed, eyes wide as he recalled blowing up the toilet last year.

”You don’t have to remind me.” You shuddered.

“I know, I was just saying. I was thinking we could go somewhere fun,” Alfred gave you an expectant look as he tried to sell you on it. “We could go skating, or just watch a movie back at my place. What do you say?”

“Hm, I don’t know. I’m really craving his scones.”

“Seriously?”

”But not as much as our time together,” You smiled, watching him light up. Taking his hand, you pulled him along and said this with a laugh. “I’d rather go to the dumpster with you than the Met. You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah.” He softened his gaze. You said that, but the way you held his hand said otherwise. Or was it because you two were that close? Either way, he was starting to go down the pipeline he swore that he wouldn’t.

”Are you okay?” You asked.

”Yeah, I’m fine.” He adjusted his glasses.

“Wanna kiss it better?” You swung his arm playfully.

Alfred glared at you as the only diversion from the fact that he was blushing. It was so like you to say things like that. You were attractive, and you knew it. With your sense of humor, it made for a dangerous game. But he’d been playing it for a while. He covered your entire face with his hand, then pushed you down to a nearby bench in one clean movement.

”Hey!”

“Hey yourself.” Alfred walked off with his hands in his pockets, as cool as a cucumber.

This might’ve been all fun and games with you, but you weren’t the loneliest animal on the planet here. Not that it made his feelings for you any less real. He liked you, and not because you were an idea in his head.

You were real, every strange thought and neuron of your imagination. You could be as sharp as a tack when you wanted to be. He loved your mind and the way it worked, or at least when you weren’t tantalizing him.

“Remember when we were little we used to take baths together?” You sprung up out of the blue.

”Barely.” Alfred exhaled, wildly unprepared for what just came out of your mouth. But before he reacted any further, he reminded himself just who he was talking to. “That’s probably why we did it in the first place. Why?”

You were sleeping over that time, as you always did every Friday after your philosophy class. Your things were strewn all over his bedroom, like a half-eaten cup noodle, some snacks, and the clothes you brought over.

While he browsed the rest of the displays in the room, he let himself get immersed in that particular memory.

That was when you caught up with him again, even having the nerve to smile up at him with ‘hehe’ written all over your face. He glowered down at you, but really, he was just happy that you were by his side again.

You had a thirty second rebound before doing or saying the next pain in the ass thing, but he forgave you even faster than that. And it had been that way since horseshoe crabs were the only thing roaming the Earth.

”You think we could fit in the bathtub?”

“If you’re asking if I wanna take a bath with you, it’s an immediate no. We’re way too old for that.”

“You don’t have to be such a prude,” You mumbled, rolling your head away. “I was just wondering.”

“I’m not a prude.” He grumbled.

“And it’s not like I haven’t seen your dick before.”

“Yeah, when I was little!”

“Can’t imagine it’s grown much since then.”

He glared at the ceiling, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of seeing how embarrassed he was.

As much as he’d like to pull his pants down to prove you wrong, he didn’t. Someone had to uphold a sense of decency around here, even if that person had to be him, the worst possible example of it, if he was one at all.

“If you’re done, I’m gonna go to sleep,” He sat up and twisted around to fluff up his pillow. You were starting to drift off by then, but he didn’t let you off so easily. “Don’t let me catch you peeking or I’ll molest you.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, geez.”

And to think he used to be such a cute kid, kicking his ball over your fence just so he could come over to play. You both grew up since then, and with that, came his awful sense of humor among other things.

But if you asked him, he learned from the best.

“You know the nicest people make the best Nazis?” You asked, walking by a glass display of three wax figures. Sakagawea, a young Shoshone woman who guided Lewis and Clarke on their expedition to the Pacific.

“Do they?” He narrowed his eyes in interest.

“Nice people look the other way and just wanna get along with everybody else.” You said, towing him along. “Have the whole country doing that, plus a heap of propaganda, you could get away with anything.”

“Well, if I was a German, I wouldn’t buy into it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alfred frowned, genuinely offended. “I’m not a freakin’ racist.”

”Being scorned is your kryptonite,” You pointed out, getting him to roll his eyes. So he didn’t like to deviate from standards, and being a raving right-wing was one at the time. “And trust me when I say you would be.”

”That’s why the second amendment exists,” He smiled sagely with a hint of mischief. “If the government was to push some crazy agenda into us, the rednecks wouldn’t have it. We shape society to what we want.”

”What if the society you want isn’t the society someone else wants?” You asked, stopping in front of an exhibit of a male Algonquin warrior. “We all worship something. What’s normal to you might be crazy for someone else.”

”I guess you’re right,” He agreed, gazing upon the person who lived — and believed — in things drastically different than did. His brows came together as he marveled at the man who stood over him, a chief’s son who had been dead for well over a thousand years.

Allen was his name. He had striking scarlet eyes, dark maroon hair, tawny brown skin, and a toned body from a life of hunting and gathering. As he stared out into the middle distance, there was something uncanny about him, like he could come alive at any second, but didn’t.

“What do you think this guy worshipped?” Alfred murmured faintly, strangely captivated by him.

It was humbling to be in the presence of all of these historical figures, but intimidating to imagine them as people who existed. He was a history nut, and one thing he understood was how astonishingly cruel and violent the past could be. From the swashbuckling tales of the Wild West to the burning sands of Ancient Egypt, everything was best enjoyed from the comforts of his modern American home. Or in this case, a museum.

Where all of the exhibits were mere imitations of the long dead and gone, it would take no less than a miracle for any of them to come back to life. Little did he know, a miracle was exactly what he’d be in for tonight.

You two poked around some more, eventually ending up in the Northern European section of the museum. Nothing really stood out to him besides the Vikings, who also caught the attention of the general public.

“This man was the greatest viking to have ever lived. Mathias Densen, the king of Danes,” A guide showed off a wax exhibit to a crowd of tourists. You and Alfred were among them, having taken the liberty to tune in.

Some took pictures, others whispered amongst themselves at the impressive lookalike made to imitate a legend out of the sagas. He had blonde hair swept up in the front in an unruly mane, and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. With his arm raised and axe in hand, he was frozen in time, suspended in a pose so natural, it looked like he’d bring it down at any given moment.

“He was the most feared warrior in all of Scandinavia. When he threw an axe at his enemy, he never missed. But all blood and gore aside, he will go down in history as one of the best leaders and explorers of all time.”

”Wouldn’t wanna get him angry, huh?” Alfred gave you a side-eye, returning his gaze to the information plate. That was when he saw a portrait of a woman who was supposedly the only one who could go toe-to-toe with his ruthlessness. “You know, she kinda looks like you.”

”Really?” You leaned over. “I don’t see it.”

”No way. You guys are like twins!” He exclaimed.

“Maybe just the eyes.”

“Maybe she’s your long-lost ancestor or something.”

After another hour of walking around and talking, you and Alfred left to get to the exit. It was approaching closing time, and you two were among the last to leave. A security guard stood near the revolving doors, bidding farewell to guests. But before he could acknowledge you two, Alfred stopped and patted around his shirt.

“Shit, I left my glasses.” He winced.

Neither of you two thought it would’ve been problem to go back and retrieve them at the time. Who would’ve thought they’d made the security so much tighter that it would end up the biggest mistake of your lives?

After sweeping room after room, he eventually found them on the ground next to a bench. Sliding them onto his nose, he picked up a brisk jog as he made his way back downstairs. But by then, it was too late.

“Now let’s get out before we get locked in.”

”Don’t jinx us.”

”Not gonna happen.”

And he said that so confidently too. Because when he pushed at the revolving door, it didn’t budge.

”What’s wrong?” You asked from behind.

“Nothing, just give me a sec…” He rattled it a few more times, but to no avail. Then, he let out a heavy breath as he admitted the one thing he thought could never happen. “… Okay, I think we’re locked in.”

“You’re joking.” You blurted.

You brushed past him to give the door a strong shake, needing that same taste of defeat before believing it yourself. Sure enough, it was locked shut, and would likely stay locked all the way up til morning.

“Oh my God, we are. What are we gonna do?”

”Call the cops.” He suggested, pulling out his phone to dial 9-11. After a few tries, to which he stared at you tensely with it pressed up to his ear, he found that the call kept failing. “Annnnd the cops aren’t picking up.”

“Well, keep trying! Call Arthur or something.”

For the next thirty minutes, you both paced around while trying to reach local government services, then friends or loved ones. It slowly became apparent that you two weren’t getting out anytime soon.

You weren’t the type to express it, let alone say it, but you were getting scared and uncomfortable.

So was he, but like hell he’d let it show. Not because he didn’t have the balls to admit it, but it was the last thing you needed right now. You weren’t looking at him, and he knew in an instant that you were on the verge.

“We’re not gonna make it out, are we?”

Alfred was crushed with so much guilt, he couldn’t even react when the lights dimmed, plunging the museum into a pitch-black darkness. His eyes stayed wide with remorse, even when he couldn’t see you anymore.

In that moment, he came over and hugged you as tight as he could, lips pursed in a deep frown. It wasn’t every day that he could hold you like this, but he set aside every shard of his shattered ego to do it.

Even if he had to do it in the dark.

There couldn’t be a better metaphor for his feelings. Alfred had always been too afraid to tell you how he felt, and if he did, he’d do it in a way that was hidden from plain sight. This was one of those times.

It was one thing to admit he was scared. It was another to say he was sorry. But telling you how much you truly meant to him was damn near impossible. So instead of doing any of the above, he let you sleep on him.

He had his back on a cold hard bench while you drifted away. There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight, but this was just his karma. So he stayed like that for the next few hours, to which you began to stir.

“You good?” He asked in a soft murmur.

”Yeah,” You rubbed your eyes. “Just a little thirsty.”

”I’m pretty sure there’s a fountain outside.” He helped you up, putting on his glasses. “I’ll come with you.”

”No, it’s fine.” You sighed, getting up to leave the room.

”Hey,” Alfred softened his gaze, getting you to slow to a stop. He was so exhausted, all of his walls were coming down. And he couldn’t stand to bottle it up inside him any longer. “I’m sorry, okay? This was all my fault.”

”It’s okay. We can’t all be born perfect.” You cracked a smile, walking off. But the happy note only lasted so long once you got to the hallway outside. It was so dark, you could barely see the ground beneath you.

With nothing but the wall lamps to illuminate the empty halls, the institution turned into nothing but a graveyard: a dim labyrinth of the long dead and gone. And like all graveyards, there were ghosts.

The black outline of wax figures lined your peripherals, and you gazed at them nervously as you made your way to the fountain. After a few satisfying gulps, you began making your way back to the room. That was when you heard the echo of footsteps in the distance, too far away to have made sense at the time. Someone was at the end of the hall, and it couldn’t have been Alfred.

“Hello?” You called out to the source.

The shadow of a man appeared around the corner, the details of his wild, upswept hair showing up on the wall. When he revealed himself, he was covered head to toe in thick fur pelts and armor. Your eyes went wide ever so slowly, heart racing as you were struck with this realization. He was a spitting image of the viking you’d seen on display, but he wasn’t just an inanimate statue made of colored wax and glue. He was moving.

Breathing.

He was alive.

Alfred waited patiently for you to come back, though he regretted letting you go out by yourself. It wasn’t like there was anything out there, but you must’ve been afraid under that bravado you showed him. If only he knew how wrong he’d been. As he sat on the bench, the museum slowly came to life. All of its waxy inhabitants, people gone for centuries, returned from the dead.

And the lights came back on, one by one.

The Viking’s chest heaved for the air that hadn’t filled his lungs in eons. And with eyes as blue as the oceans he sailed across, he stared at you like he had just seen a ghost. They had a light in them they never had before, a consciousness, a soul, and you stared right back. But the way he looked at you was like nothing you’d expect. There wasn’t a trace of hostility in his gaze, but something deeply emotional and coherent.

Not that any of that mattered to you.

You split, running from him as fast as you could and with more adrenaline than what you thought was humanly possible. But then again, what you witnessed was a testament to the impossible. The dead walked, and you were trapped in here with hundreds of them. Whipping your head over your shoulder, you let out a frightened cry when you saw him chasing you.

Your screams echoed down the hall, and Alfred felt his blood go cold hearing them. But he forced himself to stand, and without a shred of hesitation, he ran outside to look for you. When you weren’t by the fountain, his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. And his face, now whiter than a sheet of paper. Where did you go?

“(F/N)!” He yelled, sprinting down the hall.

But more importantly, what was it that made you scream? Whatever it was, he knew he’d never forgive himself if something happened to you. The lights were now on, and he swore he could hear the tapping of what sounded like hundreds of footsteps. There was something around the corner, or someone, he just never would’ve anticipated it beyond his wildest imagination.

“Where are you?” Once be got around the turn, what he saw put a stopper to his thoughts, derailing them with the most fantastical thing he had ever seen. His eyes flew open, and his mouth went agape so he could let out a shaky breath. “What the hell is going on?”

Swathes of people dressed in cultural adornments and even objects were out and about, talking to each other in languages he couldn’t even begin to decipher. Inuits, African tribesmen, and Edwardian socialites walked along the halls like time had just shattered upon itself. Marble sculptures, copper statues, and other pieces of art were moving about like they weren’t made of some kind of rock. There was even a Terracotta soldier, who was accompanied by a Chinese dragon made entirely out of green jade. Elephants, rhinos, and giraffes passed by in a strangely calm fashion like this wasn’t their first rodeo in the museum. Everyone did, except for him.

“No way.” He whispered, glancing left to right as he picked up a jog. If he wasn’t wrong, everything in the museum had come to life. Was he dreaming? He had to be. In his dazed stupor, he ran into a medieval knight. There was a loud clank, and he would’ve winced from how much it hurt if it weren’t for being spoken to.

“Excuse me. Watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry!” He blurted. “I’m so sorry.”

”That’s alright! But you look a bit pale there, kid. What seems to be the problem?” The knight questioned, still wearing his helmet and hiding his face. Aside from his silver armor, he wore pure white garments with a blood red cross — the signature outfit of a crusader knight.

“Oh, um, where do I start?” Alfred panted, speaking in a frazzled manner. Funnily enough, this was the straightest he’d been thinking now that someone was talking to him. “Oh, I know! How the hell is everyone and everything in this museum alive right now?”

“I’d normally have a better answer, but I’ve never read anything like this in the Bible,” The other scratched their head through their helmet inquisitively. “Maybe I missed a chapter. But honestly, I’m just as lost as you are.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The Bible. The word of God. Haven’t you heard of it?”

”I know what the Bible is!” Alfred raised his voice into a frustrated hiss, but he instantly felt bad for it. “Sorry. I’m talking to a monk, here. I should be more respectful. But never mind that. I’m looking for my friend. I’m worried something happened to her.”

”I could help you look for her!”

“That would be great, thank you.”

”I’m Gilbert. Proud Templar Knight and brother from the Temple of Solomon.” They took off their helmet and held it against their hip, revealing a head of white hair and ruby-red eyes. Then, they outstretched a gloved hand for him with a toothy grin. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Alfred, uh, son of Arthur, and student hailing from New York,” Alfred improvised awkwardly, giving it a slow, disoriented shake. “Wow. I can’t believe I’m talking to a Crusader knight right now.”

“So where did you last see your friend?” Gilbert asked.

Mathias carried you all the way to the other side of the museum, and you thrashed the whole time, begging him to let you go. When he finally put you down, he kept a firm grip on your hand. You were greeted by other Vikings, and just when you thought you’d be sacrificed like a goat, they broke out in wide smiles.

Besides them speaking in old Norse to you, which you had no way of comprehending, they were more than pleasant to you, even offering you some plastic food, which you politely declined. From the way they acted around you, it was like being with an old friend.

It became clear that they had no intention of harming you, but why they brought you here was still a mystery.

”I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you guys are saying,” You interrupted meekly, darting your nervous eyes between them. They stared at you with blank faces before exchanging confused looks with each other. “Could you please let me go? I don’t want any trouble.”

“Where did you run off to? I haven’t seen you all week. I was worried something happened to you,” Mathias spun you to him, hugging you tightly before putting his hands all over you. “You’re speaking in tongues and acting very strange! We need to get you a doctor.”

”I didn’t understand that either.” You sighed.

”It’s worse than I thought. Somebody get Olaf,” The Dane ordered, summoning another Viking to come over. They took your arm and led you off, much to your dismay. “Look after her for me, friend. In the meantime, I have a man to hunt. He’s the one responsible for this.”

”Hey, wait! Where are you taking me?” You exclaimed, glancing back at Mathias as he left. In that precise moment, your best friend’s words replayed in your mind like a tape. You looked just like his wife, and so much that it had the actual guy fooled. “Oh no. Alfred!”

It didn’t take a linguist to know that he was in trouble, but there was nothing you could do. Your companions kept you inside their make-shift hut, treating you as one of their own. They laid you down and spoke to you very slowly, so they must’ve thought you had a concussion. Either way, they weren’t letting you out of their sight.

You just hoped Alfred brushed up on his history, because he’d be needing it tonight.

”Where the hell could she be?” Alfred walked with his newest companion. “We checked everywhere!”

”Actually, we still haven’t checked Northern Europe.” Gilbert corrected, getting the blonde to turn in the direction of said location. But he launched a hand out and grabbed him, pulling him back. “Don’t. It’s suicide.”

”Why?” He frowned.

”It’s occupied by Norse Pagans.” The albino warned, pulling him close for a tantalizing whisper. He glanced around before he continued, almost as if speaking of them would summon them like the devil himself.

”Norse Pagans? You mean Vikings?”

“They came here last week, and it’s been Hell ever since.” Gilbert took his collar as he whispered in a panicked hush. “We sent a missionary up there once, and he came back to us completely dismembered!”

“Oh, fuck.” Alfred dug his hands through his hair, now a nervous wreck as he envisioned the thought. But what made his stomach really churn was the unshakeable thought that it was probably where you were.

For that, he was surprised he hadn’t vomited already. And he almost did when Gilbert went off on a passionate spiel of the Scandinavian heathens and everything they’d done. That was when one appeared at the end of the hall, and it wasn’t just any Scandinavian heathen.

”I mean, he’s okay now, but it was really disturbing.” The other made a face of unease as he recalled the sight. It wasn’t something a person was meant to see in their lifetime, but at least he was in a more dubious position now. “I don’t think they care for God.”

“Dude.”

”What?”

”That’s the Viking I saw earlier today.” Alfred whispered, locking eyes with Mathias who stood no more than three hundred feet away from him. In the next three seconds, the Dane broke into a sprint, charging at him at a terrifying speed like a mad bull. He let out a wheeze, likely the sound of his soul escaping his body. “Aaaand he’s running at us. Well, this has been a good life.”

”God hasn’t forsaken us yet!” Gilbert unsheathed a gleaming longsword, swinging it in impressive circles.

Mathias launched an axe at him, and it spun through the air so fast, it passed as nothing but a white flash.

It cut Gilbert’s head clean off, getting it to land on the ground with a thump. There was no blood or flesh, just a cross-section of wax where he was decapitated. While he had his face planted on the floor, he said this in a muffled voice. “So that’s what that feels like.”

But Alfred had already fled by then.

He never stuck around to see his friend lose his dignity, much less his own. He whimpered a little as he pumped his legs as fast as he could. He was running on so much adrenaline, his bloodstream may as well have been battery acid. But not everybody could outrun a Viking, and he would’ve eaten it if it weren’t for the arm that shot out from the side, pulling him into a room.

When he turned to the stranger who’d saved him, he recognized him to be the native Algonquin warrior he’d seen earlier that day. Only this time, he was perfectly canny and had an unrivaled sharpness that would end up ensuring his survival. While Mathias ran by outside with his pelts and armor clinking away, Allen put a finger up to his mouth to get him to stay deathly still.

But above all else, quiet.

There they crouched, hidden from plain sight like the watchful forces of nature. In the most tense ten seconds of their lives, they stared at each other, cerulean and scarlet eyes as wide as they could get them. For a moment, Alfred forgot he was being chased, deeply enchanted by the person in front of him. He was quite literally gazing back into history, a thousand years into the past to be precise. But once the coast was clear, he went back to hyperventilating. He was still in shock from everything that just happened, and the first thing he let out was an excited, albeit exasperated gasp.

“Oh my God. You just saved my life. Thank you!”

”Don’t mention it.” Allen took his bow off so he could arm himself with it. Then, he peered outside the door, making sure there weren’t any Vikings in the area. Turning back to the blonde, he pulled an arrow from his quiver without breaking eye contact. “I’ve been tracking that guy for days, and this is the craziest I’ve ever seen him. You have any idea why he would be after you?”

“How should I know? I don’t know the guy personally!” Alfred exclaimed, following him out into the hall.

“You must’ve done something to piss him off.”

”But I didn’t do anything!”

“Then he wouldn’t waste his time chasing you when he’d rather search for his girlfriend.” Allen remarked. “One of my pals can speak his language, and he says he’s been looking for her ever since he got here.”

“Fuck, that’s it. Why didn’t I think of it before?”

They ran to the elevator, to which he pressed the button for the basement. It had always been on the tip of his tongue, but the whirlwind of a night left his head more scrambled than he thought. And now that he had it all pieced together, he came up with a plan to save you.

“I came here with my friend, and she looks exactly like his wife. He must’ve seen us together. But it’s okay, I have an idea. They must have extra wax figures in storage, right? If she’s as important as they say, they must have her tucked away down here somewhere.”

“Okay, so we do a trade-off.”

”Exactly.”

”Smart.” Allen pursed his lips, thoroughly impressed.

The doors slid open and thus, they began their search, sweeping the entire basement for the reason why the museum had turned into a war zone. After an hour or so, Alfred heard someone banging away and calling for help from inside a tall wooden crate. A woman, and she sounded just like you. He and Allen walked up to it, then cracked it open like a treasure chest. Lo and behold, it was your doppelgänger, but dressed in the height of fashion from what was a thousand years ago.

“I think we found our girl.” He murmured in awe.

The three of you got back to the elevator. It was a given that the you from the Viking age was a little hesitant to get into such a tight box, but Allen had a way with body language. He made a few gestures to let you know where he was taking you. What more was that these two men had just broken you out of an even tighter box, so you had no reason not to trust them.

“You know, I meant to ask, but doesn’t it bother you that there is a living, breathing, homicidal axe-wielding maniac running around the museum every night?” Alfred asked, feeling strangely calm now that he sensed that the night’s excitement was coming to an end.

“We’re not alive the way you’re alive,” Allen told him. That was right. As magical as it was to have the museum come to life, it wasn’t real. History had done its course. He spoke with power and humility as he confronted that fact, and for that, he seemed to be at peace. “We’ve had our shot. But you still have yours.”

“I have the craziest chills right now.”

”But also because we’re made of wax.”

“Okay, that makes more sense.” Alfred laughed a little, turning to him. ”So how come you speak English?”

”I’ve been on display here for years,” Allen grinned, walking out now that the elevator doors opened. They returned to the bustling halls of the Museum of Natural History, where history had really come to life that night. “New York is my home. Always has been.”

”Explains the accent.”

It didn’t take long to track down Mathias again, and when he finally laid eyes on the one he’d been searching for, he turned into an entirely different person. His anger, terror, and everything that made him a legend, had all but melted into a deep emotional coherence.

He was nothing but a man now. A man with his own joys and sorrows like everybody else.

He dropped his ax and ran up to his long-lost love, picking her up and embracing her after what felt like an eternity. He finally found her again after a thousand years, and the scene was quite profound to behold.

But if you asked Alfred, it wasn’t as touching as his reunion with you. He found you in the hall of Northern Europe, holed up in a tent and rubbing your eyes. They were red from crying, and the way you looked at him was something he’d burn in his mind forever. And the way you hugged him, a feeling he’d never get tired of.

”I knew you’d come.” You squeezed him.

“Of course I came,” He squeezed you back, burying his face into the crooked of your neck. “But maybe it’s time that I switch out my glasses for some contact lenses. Don’t wanna keep losing them like I did tonight.”

“No way!” You gushed. “I like the way you look now.”

”Yeah?” He smiled rosily. From that outburst alone, he knew you’d forgiven him for everything that happened. But from the sound of things, you had a much easier time than he did. On the way home, he enthused you on the people he met and his close brushes with death.

“You ever hear of a term called solipsism?” You asked.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” He shook his head.

“It’s the concept that everything around you doesn’t exist and is made up by your own mind,” You explained, stopping him in the middle of the street. It was dawn by then, and the rising sun cast a golden glow over your tender smile. “But if everything around me is just my imagination, you’re the best thing I’ve come up with.”

His eyes went wide, shocked by how sweet you just were. Just like that, everything he ever pined away for didn’t matter anymore. He was worth more to you than an adventure of a lifetime because he was that adventure. But at the same time, Alfred fell even harder for you, and it showed in the way his gaze softened.

”Right back at you, sport.”

#Ghost of Jealousy Reprised??? Ain’t no way #request #alfredosauce50 #update #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia #hetalia x reader #hetalia fanfic #axis powers hetalia #aph america #americaxreader #america x reader #hws america #fantasy #supernatural #night at the museum #crossover

100 notes · View notes

potatoplace · 4 months ago

Text

Pretty In Pink

Mor x Reader

kinktober day 11 (late...) | public play, lingerie, mirrors

kinktober '24 masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: You've been struggling with your confidence after your most recent breakup. Luckily, your best friend Mor is an expert in confidence. She has a foolproof plan to get you your confidence back: lingerie shopping.

Warnings: smut, really just like fingering, public play

Words: ~2.2k

Author's Note: I'm so sorry this one was late! But it's here now, just some nice Mor boosting your confidence and also wanting to get in your pants. And she definitely does. I hope you guys like it!

18+ only pls

❣️🤍❣️🤍❣️

You were sitting on your couch in sweatpants and a hoodie when your front door swung open, revealing your best friend Mor, arms laden with two grocery bags. She was clad in a red knit dress, her signature color also on her lips.

Mor never did miss an opportunity to look nice.

You, on the other hand, hadn’t felt like dressing up in weeks.

Okay, two months.

But that was because your shitty ex’s parting words to you were along the lines of “You’re just not hot enough for me to keep dating.”

Mor had had plenty to say about that, especially with the fact that she considered you far out of his league.

That’s in the past though. The only part of it still clinging to you is your confidence- or lack thereof.

“I got our usual- two bottles of champagne, a bottle of orange juice, croissants, and chocolate covered strawberries,” Mor said excitedly, placing the bags on the kitchen counters after shutting the door behind her with her foot.

“That’s lovely, Mor, thank you,” you said as you stood from the couch and met her in the kitchen. “Is there anything specific you had in mind for today? I couldn’t think of anything to do besides watch a movie.”

Mor nodded her head, blonde curls bouncing as she did. “I have an idea that I think you will think you’ll hate, but you will have a fantastic time instead.” She paused, her chocolate eyes meeting yours, their warmth spreading into you. “I want to take you lingerie shopping.”

“Oh, Mor, I don’t think-”

She cut you off, “I think you need to feel sexy again on your own to fully recover from this breakup. I know, I know, you said that you’re over it, but I can tell that you’re still stuck in your head! I just want to remind you that you are sexy and beautiful and that dickhead never deserved you,” Mor explained passionately, not letting you interrupt her, as many times as you wanted to.

But she did have a point. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, just to try stuff on for fun?

“As long as it’s not in a mall, I suppose that would be fine. But if I hate it we’re coming back, drinking our mimosas, and watching some sappy romcom. Deal?”

Mor grinned brightly at you. “Deal. And just so you know, we’re probably coming back and doing that anyways.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at her before turning in the direction of your room. “I’ll just change and then we can go.”

“Sounds good, cupcake. I’ll put away the goods while you do.”

❣️🤍❣️🤍❣️

Fifteen minutes later, the two of you were inside Mor’s sleek town car, and another fifteen minutes after that you had pulled up in front of a charming looking brick building, display windows filled with mannequins dressed in laces and sheer fabrics, the name Renata’s printed across the glass front door.

Mor pulled you inside, a cheery bell ringing as you passed through the door.

“Ah, Mor, it’s lovely to see you!” A beautiful redhead exclaimed as she walked towards the two of you from the back of the store. “And you brought a friend! It’s nice to meet you, my name is Renata,” she said as she grabbed your hands firmly in hers for a moment before letting them go.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you as well. Your shop is beautiful,” you said, and you were being honest. The walls were done in a light wooden color, with swaths of fabric in varying shades of pink adding some coziness to the space, along with the many couches settled around the store. There were also three large dressing rooms on the back wall of the store.

And the racks upon racks of gorgeous lingerie, each piece more beautiful than the last.

“Were the two of you looking for anything specific today?”

Mor shook her head, answering for you. “No, we’re just looking for something for Y/N here to get her feeling sexy again.”

You blushed lightly at her words, not wanting everyone to know that she’s having confidence issues…

“Oh, I understand that! Take your time, and if you need any different sizes or colors or anything else, just come and ask me,” Renata said warmly before departing for the desk at the back of the store.

You looked around nervously, unsure of where to start.

And Mor could tell, thankfully. She led you by the hand to the nearest rack, holding so many beautiful pieces of lingerie.

“What do you normally like to buy?” Mor asked as she started pulling out the pieces that interested her, looking at them on their own before putting them back on the rack.

“Oh, um… It’s been a while since I’ve bought any for myself, Trent was the one who bought them for me most of the time,” you confessed.

“Did you like the ones that he bought you?”

Your face scrunched at the images that came to mind- a bright, bright red, highly uncomfortable bra and panty set, the bras underwire nearly cutting into your skin on the first wear and the lace of both pieces irritating your skin. “Not particularly, no.”

“Alright, so we’ll go the exact opposite of those. Was it just a bra and panties?” Mor asked, hitting the nail on the head. You nodded. “So we’ll look at baby dolls, teddies, and chemises. Any colors that you want?”

“Not red.”

Mor gasped, hand to her heart. “So rude to my favorite color! That’s fine, more for me,” Mor said with devilish smirk thrown your way as she continue rifling through the racks. “Go on, look at some cupcake!”

You sighed but did as she asked, hands gently flitting between soft laces and sheer fabrics, lingering on a baby pink chemise. You pulled it off of the rack it rested on, your free hand running over the sheer fabric and lace covering the bust- soft and not at all irritating on your skin, and the cut of it was lovely. It looked like it would cover half of your breasts, just above the nipple, leave a tantalizing amount of skin on display with the thin lace straps to frame the area. And the skirt of the dress was flowy, you would bet money on it flaring out when you spin around.

This one you were definitely trying on.

After finding the first piece you wanted to try on, picking them out was easier. You just chose the ones that caught your eye.

Once you had a decent selection, you wandered over to the dressing rooms to find Mor, also standing with an armful of clothes.

“You found so many! That perfect, now you have so many to try on! Now, get in there and start trying them on!” Mor said, pushing you into one of the roomy dressing rooms and dumping the clothes in her arms on the table inside.

“These are all for me?” You asked her, slightly concerned.

“Mhm! You don’t have to try on the ones I picked out for you, but I thought you might like them. I’ll wait outside, and you can show me the ones that you like.” And with that, Mor left the dressing room, closing the door softly behind her.

You sighed softly before moving over to the table, placing your own findings onto it.

Five pieces in and you didn’t like a single one.

You were starting to lose hope.

You grabbed the pink chemise that you had picked out first, figuring that if you liked any of them, it would be that one. You stripped out of the dark blue teddy that Mor had picked out for you, returning it to its hanger before slipping the chemise over your head, taking a moment to adjust the way your chest sat in the fabric.

And it was perfect.

It was soft and girly, but still sexy with how much skin it showed up top. Your nipples were just barely covered by the fabric, and still slightly visible through the light pink lace with how sheer the pink fabric underneath was. It came to just about your mid thigh, and when you spun around, it flared out at the bottom in the way that you’d hoped.

“Mor?” You asked as you peeked out from the doorway, doing your best to keep your modesty in the store.

“Yes, Y/N?” The blonde asked from her spot on a pink couch in front of the dressing rooms, flicking through a magazine.

“Come in here, I need you to judge this one for me.” Mor’s head turned upwards, her eyes catching on your head poking out of the door. She shook her head and smiled, then dropped the magazine back on the side table and walked towards you.

You retreated back into the dressing room, slightly nervous at what she would say. She was your friend, yes, but she was also incredibly beautiful.

Mor shut the door behind her quietly before she turned to face you. Her eyes widened as she took you in, her cheeks pinking slightly.

You squirmed under her intense gaze. “What?” You asked nervously.

“Just- you are so, so beautiful and sexy.” With heated cheeks you looked away from her. “And I mean it. Like, looking at you right now, I want to devour you. Even though we’re in public and even though you’re my best friend. You look fantastic in this, cupcake,” Mor said softly, closing the distance between the two of you.

Your cheeks were flaming now, both from the compliments and the meaning of her words. “Thank you, Mor,” you whispered breathily into the space between you- less than a foot now, and Mor’s hands now on your waist.

“You’re welcome,” Mor said with a smile, her brown eyes molten chocolate as they met yours.

And then your mouths met, the distance closed in half a thought from the both of you. Your arms wrapped around her neck as hers wrapped around your waist, the both of you pulling each other as close as you could.

When you broke away, the both of you were breathless, excited at the now blurred lines of friendship between you.

“Devour me,” you breathed.

And Mor didn’t disappoint.

She turned you in her arms so that you were facing the mirror, her chest pressed tightly to your back. One of her hands snaked up to pull one side of the dress down to expose your chest, the other moving down to slip underneath your panties that you’d left on. It dipped down into your folds, Mor sighing contentedly after finding you already wet for her.

“If I’d known you liked me so much, I would’ve made a move on you so much earlier,” Mor whispered into your ear, her red lips hovering teasingly over your neck.

“If I’d known you liked me so much, I would’ve made a move on your earlier,” you replied softly, breath catching when her fingers slipped over your clit.

“Fair enough. We should both be honest about how hot we find each other. Like, you right now? The sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. Look at yourself,” Mor commanded, nudging your head to look at the mirror from where it had lolled against her shoulder. You did, and found that she was right.

You looked amazing right now, your skin flushed and glowing from Mor’s attentions, the chemise accentuating your chest- and just the sight of your breast in Mor’s hand, her thumb rolling over your nipple was enough to have you believing her words in that moment.

And Mor behind you, looking as gorgeous as ever, the desire in her expression only enhancing her beauty.

Her fingers were slipping over your clit quickly, doing their best to bring you to the brink quickly, lest the two of you get caught.

But that thought only made it more exciting, the danger of being found with your best friend’s hand down your panties, of a single moan giving your activities away to the store owner outside.

“Fuck, Mor, I’m-”

“Shh, I know, cupcake, just stay quiet, okay? Here’s my thumb just in case,” Mor said quietly, moving her hand from your breast to pop her thumb into your mouth. “Look me in the eyes when you cum, love,” Mor commanded.

So you did, your eyes meeting hers as you fell over the edge, mostly silent cries being fully muffled by her thumb. You shook lightly in her hold, leaning back against her for support as you came down, sucking lightly on her thumb as her fingers slowed.

“Feeling good, little cupcake?” Mor asked, a satisfied smile on her face as she kept her eyes locked on your in the mirror.

“Mhm… I could use a nap now though,” you giggled. “Thank you, Mor. You were right. I did like it.”

Mor smirked at you. “I told you that you would. Of course, I am a great helper at making things fun.”

You smiled at her. “Yes you are… Now, I should change back into my clothes. But I’m definitely getting this,” you said, running your hands up and down the chemise.

“I’ll go wait outside, so we don’t arouse suspicion,” Mor said with a wink, leaving the dressing room after pressing one last kiss to your lips.

You returned to your pile of clothes, stripping the chemise off of yourself.

Just what had the two of you started? You thought to yourself with a slight smile.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

64 notes · View notes

akascow · 2 months ago

Text

JINAFIRE IS HEREEEE

i really like that her whole body isnt totally golden bc there is such thing as too much gold (cough g1 cough cough) lmao

DETAILS👇🏻👇🏻

i LOVE the gold stitching on her jacket (which is satin ?) and how the somewhat messy (/pos) handmade design of the pendant stitched onto it makes it look more like she sewed it herself (which she did) OOH

her skirt is really cool too,, also satin-y and the designs on it are so intricate jfkdjsl hard to see but its like dragons, scales and clouds in that traditional (?) chinese dragon type of art style and i think its supposed to be reminiscent of embroidery ? anyway i like how theres a lil transitions between colors on her knees

her ears are bigger and gold and i actually rlly like the design of them idk. earrings are like a knot talisman -- which from what i can tell the knot talisman is the endless loop// pán cháng [meaning infinity and longevity] :) -- and lil jade hoops and her makeup is that scaled design again lol

she has a lil reptilian kind of pupil BUT ALSO i always go crazy when characters have hazel eyes because i have hazel eyes and i never see it in character designs AND JINAFIRE HAS HAZEL EYES brown to green/grey to golden brown OUGHHHH fuck yeah bro

her hands have this cool wavy design on them and her claws are super long and pointy. a lil different than the g3 cartoon (she has green hands and just her nails are golden) but the g3 dolls dont ever really reflect the cartoon 1:1 anyway. plus i lowkey like her gold hands over green too HAHA. also jade bracelets (and necklaces) !! one is a beaded one and the other is a bangle :3

sommore dragon art on her shoes, the heels are a dragon too (although very hard to make out HAHA) the green part is iridescent too and the toes are upturned which from what ive seen is also a traditional shoe style, and it looks like the red ribbon part is another talisman but i cant find a specific name /example for it hmm... unfortunately no dragon-ish feet like her hands BUT her calves are WAY more defined than other g3 molds so i think thats interesting lol

accessories !! her sketchbook is the design of her jacket and bangle, the pen head is that of her lil cloud dog thing Cloudy//Yun-Yun,, glasses are kinda look like those sunglasses shaped like cloud with lil dangley charms to look like water or lightening- its kinda gen z BUT i do actually like these types of sunglasses irl,, plus it is nice to see mh designers are still keeping up w current fashion bc thats like half of what mh is about HAHA (also i am genz). also when u prop them up on her head they resemble dragon horns which idk it it was intentional but its hella cute

also heres the bag. idk i dont have anything interesting to say about that HAHA i like that its big tho lmao the other g3 bags can barely even hold their phone hdjhfdk

her phone case is another dragon lmao. the case blocks like a third of the screen tho idk how that doesnt drive her nuts HAHA

cute lil mannequin stand plus tail,, super tiny idk what shes designing clothes for on that thing maybe she makes doll clothes too HAHA kinda meta. also the base is a skullette kinda like the collector stand bases irl i guess

she also has a lil "fanghai yogurt drink" and i have literally nothing else to say about it HAHA

sorry to get all 8th grade history presentation on you in the middle there LMAO i think its neat and idk a lot about it so idk i just wanted to share for other ppl who may be interested HAHA plus it gives a lil more depth to the dolls lmao

#SHES SO CUTE #also ignore my fucked up nails i have the issue of a cuticle cutting habit that i cannot break rn and its destroying my pretty fingers HAHA #i love how much MH is broadening their details nowadays like theres so many little things to look at n catch n its so much more interesting #i am not chinese but i hope i decently/accurately described it all ? khdjkshflk i tried to do my best research to find everything lmfaoooo #also pls lmk if u know what the name of that design technique used on the skirt is bc i wanna make sure i got it right jkdjldasj😭#monster high #jinafire long #monster high g3 #monster high dolls #mh g3

39 notes · View notes

alienpossession · 1 year ago

Text

You still startled and watched with slight fear and excitement as the water-like substances from the shower coalesced into one huge lump that started to appear to resemble a human skin. But rather than calling 911 or getting yourself out from the shower, you just froze there while occasionally touching it and feeling it firmed up time to time. Not long after, a perfect copy of yourself appeared right in front of you, the water that once merged with its body and helped it to reach the needed mass and height now just cascaded down through the body as if it wasn't a body of water mere minutes ago. As you finally whispered

"What the actual fuck?"

It mimicked you with the perfect expression and tonality which sent you to your slumber as your heart taken by surprise by its mimicry.

When you wake up, you still slumped in the same shower with no sense of clarity for how long you've passed out. But, your eyes quickly noticed the wet footsteps. You follow it to see that it leads straight to the front door of your apartment with no detour whatsoever. Wherever that creature is going, roaming around LA almost butt-naked and still drenched from the shower, you can only hope that it's not doing any criminal or dangerous activity whatsoever that can harm you or your friend

---

The alien watched over the crowd minding their own business around the beach. The shades hide his observant eyes as he scanned the beach for new cover

He locked his sight to a guy with almost the same build as his current build. The dryness of the area, how he's surrounded by sand and noting the fact that the water nearby is clearly filled with lots of iodium is not necessarily giving him much option to get bigger. Getting smaller is also not an option as it means he needs to sacrifice his build, so he watched this guy attentively from afar, learning all his moves and his mannerism and spotting all the details on his look.

As he watched the target and several of his guy friend's leave, he then morphed himself to resemble the guy from head to toe, except for the glasses that remained the same, before strutting to the workout area himself. He changed his clothes as he copied a clothing he watched over worn by mannequin in front of a clothing store and as he entered the premise, copied exactly all the workout the guy did.

Having contact with the workout equipment helped him to connect with the traces of the guy's imprint left behind. He managed to absorb all the info, like where the groups headed next, the workout routine, the plan the group have for the night and most importantly, all the member of the group's name including his current name

"Ryan," he mumbled to himself, as he then flexed his muscle just exactly how the real Ryan did and groaned loudly

#alien shapeshift #identity theft

241 notes · View notes

cutestdomi · 9 months ago

Text

‘truest lyrics heard’

— theo nott x fem! reader

( arranged marriage x enemies to lovers)

⚠️ • warnings ; this fanfic WILL be a slowburn, but there’ll be tension / smut too (if lucky).

“you need to be married to theodore nott of the nott family, you understand what you must do, right [name]?” my father’s words echo throughout my mind as if it seemed to be an empty place, but it was in that moment. atleast to me it seemed.

“w-what? father, you know i despise nott. right?” i stuttered, stumbling on the right words to say as i couldn’t believe what i was hearing.

“oh my goodness, can’t you stop being selfish and finally be useful? just do this for us, for our family, for your family.” my father sternly said, his tone solemn and i knew his words were final.

i sighed, nodding my head, allowing myself to be controlled without a peep of opinion coming out of my mouth, i knew i couldn’t win this fight against my father.

“finally, anyways they’ll be coming by next week, go out and buy yourself gowns, i’ll ask the maids to come and bring you the necessities need to pretty yourself up.” my mother said, cutting between the tension in the air as she slightly smiled, trying her best to reassure me after the conversation.

“okay thank you mother, ill go out and buy my gowns, now if you’ll excuse me.” i said, smiling back as i walked past her and out our home, not looking as i made my way to the shops, the cold air flowing throughout my walk to the shops.

my purse in the clutch of my tense hands, the only thing on my mind was the song i was listening to, ‘i wanna be yours’ by arctic monkeys, god how much is love that band, and how true the lyrics were. i hummed along to the beat, smiling unknowingly.

the only thing in my life was music, and how peaceful it was. “merlins, couldn’t pansy have married that bastard.” i mumbled, sighing heavily as i rolled my eyes at the thought of my fiancé aka my enemy.

once i reached the sign signaling i was at my destination, i immediately turned my head looking for the dress boutiques. a crowd surrounding me, not the best time to go shopping, but it’s whatever.

i finally found a boutique that had caught my eye, making my way to the store, maneuvering through the crowd swiftly. my eyes lit up as i made it passed the door, the gowns of all styles and lengths shown brightly, which painted a grin on my face.

i excitedly made my way to this mannequin, a beautiful white, pearly beautiful gown. the details on it were immaculate, the dress was beautifully decorated with pearls as lace was draped along the dress, it seemed like something that an angel would wear, and i decided to get it since the bow really spoke to me as it was placed along the waist, tying the long pieces of laces draped on the dress.

i sighed, looking at the other gowns, finding others i enjoyed and would absolutely look beautiful on me and my body, i also decided to buy some heels for each dress, a girl could never have enough heels, right? but anyways, as i headed into the direction for the checkout, i spotted him through the glass window.

deciding not to make a scene, i continued making my way to the counter, the huge pile of gowns and heels on the counter as they were placed in huge boxes delicately and said to arrive to my house tomorrow, in which i smiled at and paid before hesitantly making my way out the door.

i began to walk out, heading to ‘Honeydukes’ since in that moment i had felt a craving for sweets. making my way swiftly and with consciousness i had almost made it there, until i heard his voice. i had unconsciously turned my head, interlocking eyes with him, his smile turned up as his steps made their way towards me.

“and what may you be doing here, [name]?” he questioned, a glint of light in his eyes as he smirked right at me.

i rolled my eyes, sighing heavily, “shopping obviously, why do you think im at the shops, idiot?” i remarked, trying to find a way out of this situation, i was not in the mood for his blabbering at the moment.

“awh, poor principessa, mm why dont i be a good fiancé and help you, no?” he asked with a smirk, though it sounded more like a demand than a question.

i cringed at the word fiancé, merlins why’d i have to be so unlucky to have to get him as my fiancé and soon to be husband? i meekily shaked my head, finally deciding to answer him.

“awh, nott!! you just can’t seem to get enough of me can’t you?” i stated in a ever so playful and gentle tone, smiling brightly but it was just a facade, he knew it was too.

he sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, the sassiness in his actions shone heavily as he walked away, waving a slight bye before pulling out a cigarette and leaving me behind to wonder.

‘who the fuck does that guy think he is? oh my god he’s gonna be the death of me one day i swear..’ i thought, also thinking about how we’d have to get married and live together, and be a couple before all of that. life is gonna be miserable.

i heavily sighed, marching into the candy shop as i walked to the candy frogs aisle, the bad energy releasing and all i felt in that moment was joy and gratitude for the makers of these chocolate-y frogs.

i couldnt wait to indulge in them once i got to my mansion, making sure i grab more than just a few since you can never go wrong with these frogs, especially chocolate ones!

after paying, i made my way home, stopping by the boutique to make sure they had readied my packages full of gowns and have made sure to deliver them by tomorrow since i’d need them to try on before the meeting with theodore’s family.

i walked the path, making sure to keep my eye on the road and the path ahead, finally reaching the gate to my house, and that’s when my song had played again.

lost in the moment, all i could recall was that song and the lyrics, ‘i just wanna be yours’. except, who’s would i be? i laughed at myself and made my way inside stopping by to my older sister’s room, pansy, and ranting about theodore as always.

“what if i run away, god i dont want to deal with that horrible example of a man.” i remarked, almost going to tears infront of my sister at the thought of being married off to the devils spawn.

“hmm, are you sure you don’t like him? i mean, maybe hes the reason you say the lyrics to ‘i wanna be yours’ are so relatable!” she exclaimed, seeming excited at the thought of her younger sister having a crush, finally one pansy could help with.

“w-what. no you’re dumb, im leaving.” i said, marching out of her room and slamming the door, merlins all my family have gone crazy..

right?

112 notes · View notes

ccycloneblogging · 2 months ago

Note

*Inhale*

Good evening Ccyclone(I guess I won’t say anything). I want to get back to work, can I get the character’s skeleton (first the skeleton is created, and then everything basic, like a circle head, a stick body, this type of skeleton/mannequin/base)? I'll also ask and anyone else who draws characters (not people)

-⭐🌙

Hey!

I can offer you a look at the building blocks for Cyrus.

AND

I'll offer a rough sketch - free to use for anyone who just wants.

Under a read more, as I am going to ramble here.

Let's start with Cyrus. While you asked for a base, I think it'll also really help going into it more so you can see what I work with.

As you can see, I put a lot of focus on the head. It's not recommended, but I always try to nail a goofy or playful look for Cyrus first.

The X you see for the body here is meant to help me make the torso and hips even at first. I want to always start with a square for his body, as the next detail is important. That black rectangle is the belt Cyrus has. The more stressed he is, the tighter the belt, and the more his body changes from a block shape to an hour glass.

I try to then make either simple lines or think noodles for the arms and legs. I tend to ignore the feet until the very last point as well - prioritizing the thumb and pointer finger. From there, I draw a blobs for the other two fingers and figure it out as I go.

The smaller doodle you see is typically the placeholder I start with too. It gives me an idea on how I should try to work on the pose - but more importantly? How exaggerated his ears should be and their placement with his body.

OKAY!

Next part!

Here is kind of more a generic body for a typical toon.

Feel free to mess around with it too - and anyone else is really welcomed to use this if it helps!

#thanks for stopping by the inbox!#ccyclone rambles #Talking about how I draw things

25 notes · View notes

the-witch-of-one-piece · 2 years ago

Text

Teaching Them Spanish Part 2 18+ Ft: Chifuyu, Kisaki, Mitsuya and Sanzu MINORS DNI WC: 800+ TW: cursing in spanish, slight degrading, hair pulling and sexual tension(with Sanzu)part 1 A/N: Hello babes! Part 2 of teaching them spanish !! Please understand there are different dialects and meanings for some of the words used. This is what I grew up knowing and learning as a kid! For example, since I'm Mexican concha means shell in Spanish for me and I have a friend who is from Argentina concha means p**** in Spanish to her. Enjoys babes!

Chifuyu

He caught on pretty quickly to how to pronounce the words, even phrases. When he’s in the shop and when he has a bit of downtime, he has a booklet of phrases that he would repeat to himself, and make sure he said it correctly. You are helping stock some supplies and when you hear him scolding Peke. “No peke J! Uno, dos, tres. Ahhh Merida.” Chifuyu began picking up the items that fell off the counter.

“You okay???” You asked about walking to the front. Peke J saw you walking up, and he began making his way towards you, purring as he wanted to be pet by you. “Was your daddy trying to discipline you by counting in Spanish?” you chuckled Peke responded in a meow “ mi precious” you spoke in a cute tone which he liked.

Chifuyu squinted his eyes “I’m trying to get him used to understanding it. He only seems to like it when you speak to him in spanish. And when I say it he does the opposite. ” Looking at Peke J who was now cuddling in your arms.

“Well you should try on a softer tone like I do and not sound so gruff ” Kissing the top of Peke’s head. “Huh, mi bebe.”

‘Little shit.’ Chifuyu said to himself as he was looking at his biggest competition who had your attention at this moment.

Kisaki

He would memorize everything fast and in a matter of months he would be fluent. He noticed when he spoke to you in Spanish you would literally gawk at him like your star struck. He wouldn’t deny he liked that attention you gave him but when it came down to actually working it was a bit more bothersome. “Did you understand all the directions??” He asked as he was signing some paperwork. “_______…..” he looked up to see you almost in a trance.

Snapping out of it. “Sorry, what did you say?” Looking at the blond hair man.

Taking his glasses off he pinched the bride of his letting out a sigh. “Necesito que prestes atención. Esto es importante ( I need you to pay attention. This is important.)” you nodded at his response literally you went a bit tone-deaf hearing him speak again. “Do you understand?”

“Kisaki can I just say.” You were trying to speak but him knowing you so well he cut it short.

“afuera (out)” he pointed to the door.

You huffed while walking out “You expect me to pay attention when you speak Spanish to me and you know how I get when you speak it to me.” You walked out still ranting.

Mitsuya

You were his model as he was getting rough estimates for a current design. The ball of pins was right next to him as he was making adjustments “Por favor da la vuelta (please turn around)” turning around at his sweet command. “Gracias” he was folding the access fabric and then pinning it.

“De nada (you're welcome)” you made sure you didn’t move because there would be times when you move you got poked.

The first time he heard you speak Spanish he thought it sounded so elegant. They way you had a form of grace in your tone the way the words sound more as he would call it 'enchanting'. But then there was also that side that sounded way worse just by the tone when you spoke and how you were saying things they were either bad words or bad phrases. Hearing you hum as he was finishing the last pin, you always did a cute hum when you were his mannequin. Turning around once more. “Ay, qué lindo eres (Oh, you're so cute.).” he smiled

“Stop saying things like that babe.” he was making you blush. “I only speak the truth.” Getting up kissing the tip of your nose.

Sanzu

His hands were very grabby with you feeling him squeeze your ass . Another hand on the back of your head fist full of your hair. His tongue dancing against yours. You were feeling flustered any moment he was with you. Giving into him as always when he entered your home. You couldn’t reject him, not even a bit. He was your addiction and you loved it. With his hand he yanked your head back “Tienes una cara muy bonita (you have such a pretty face).” he spoke to you feeling his other hand gripping your chin as you could see his eyes dilated. Shoving his lips against yours feeling his teeth dragging on your bottom lip as he pulled away. Biting your lower lip you look at him as he sends chills down your spine. “te necesito ( i need you)” looking into the eyes of your chaotic lover.

Letting out a devilish laugh that matches a smile. “You need me sucia(hoe)?”. You nodded at him. “Well, then I have to give you what you want…. Let’s sin up the fucken place then. What does a sucia like you want first?”

“Anything papí.” The moment you said this to him his lips latched onto your lips once more his hands began to travel up your shirt.

Intersted in joining the taglist please fill out form below to get notification of your favorite character when they are being posted! Link here ->taglist

413 notes · View notes

zeldas-cigarrette · 1 year ago

Note

Baroness/fem!reader, reader is her assistant, baroness falls and hurts her ankle, she's forced to drop the ice bitch act in private as the reader takes care of her. Even if the rest of the staff don't see it

— a/n * ˚ ✦: Huge apologies for the long wait of merely 10 months, I’m really really sorry I haven’t been in the right mind to write. I hope you can still enjoy it, even though it's been so long since you‘ve written this request. 🩵

— word count -`,✎; 1.2k

— pairing ༉‧₊˚✧ ; baroness von hellman x fem!reader

It was a really busy day in London, therefore also in the house of Hellman. Employees were scurrying around in the enormous fashion house, dressing mannequins, and restocking clothes. It was one of those days when the Baroness decided to show up in the store, making everyone a nervous mess. She wasn’t known for going easy on people, especially not when it concerned her fashion.

You were busily trying to set up her office, organising refreshers and snacks for her upcoming meetings, the Baroness expected nothing but perfectionism. As her assistant, it was your job to fulfil these needs. You clumsily tried to light the candles in the golden candleholder, the last thing for the ambience to look neat. A few deep breaths later you decided that your job was done, for now. When the Baroness arrives there would be greater tasks than her office, and for that you would have to prepare yourself now.

——⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

An hour later, a black, almost carriage-looking, car stopped in front of the store. You hurried to the gates of the fashion house, greeting your boss. Her lips were painted a deep maroon red, whilst her pompous dress swayed with every step she took. The woman radiated power and wealth. You gulped as soon as her eyes landed on you, her mood wasn’t pleasant, to say the least. The baroness flicked her wrist at you, motioning for you to follow, and with her head held high, the fashion icon strode through the tall glass doors. You hurried to her side, trying to keep up her pace. “Good morning”, you quickly said and tried for a clumsy smile. The baroness shot you a quick glance, scoffed and took in the scene of her scurrying employees. “Only use ‘good’ if the morning actually is”, she advised snarly and pursed her lips. Her rather analysing look applied to a certain young woman who was white as a wall when she spotted her boss.

Every time you saw the baroness, your heart clenched slightly, not exactly knowing why since she never did more than make people feel small. But something in you tended to like her a little more than you should.

All the things she wanted to restock, a little leather handbag, and a pile of clothes, fell to the floor when the Baroness’ blue eyes pierced through the young girl. To say that the poor woman was petrified would’ve been an understatement. “What are you looking at? Pick those up!”, Baroness von Hellman barked and pointed to the scattered clothes on the floor, “And make sure they’re clean.” Her voice was sharp as a knife. Then she turned to you, eyeing your being for a moment, long enough to ask yourself if something was wrong with your appearance. “Is my office ready for my meeting at 2?”, she asked snidely and put her hands on her hips.

“Everything’s ready. Mr Kohl will bring new designs”, you replied curtly and nodded. The Baroness rolled her eyes. “So be it, I’ll be in my office”, she announced to you and turned to walk off. A breath of relief, that she was at least somewhat pleased, escaped your lungs. However, the next thing you heard was a loud ‘For heaven's sake!’, your eyes shot in that direction, only to see the baroness lying on the floor, hissing and visibly appalled. You ushered over kneeling next to her. It appeared, that the young employee forgot to pick up the black leather bag, over which the baroness tripped and fell.

“Are you alright?”, you asked and reached out your hand to help her get up. “Don’t touch me”, she hissed. You scowled in response and slowly retrieved your hand, and scooted backwards to give her a little more space. The baroness clumsily tried to get up herself but failed miserably. Your eyes scanned down to her ankle, seeing it was visibly swollen. “It’s turning blue, just let me help you get up?”, you repeatedly asked and your expression softened. It was visible on her face that she contemplated accepting your help. Then she reached out her hand for you to take it. However, getting her off the floor took a little more than just her hand. You gently held her by the waist, helping her get up and while doing so, your cheeks flushed slightly. “Make sure she gets fired”, Baroness von Hellman hissed and her grip around your waist tightened, steadying herself. “Now bring me to my office”, she caustically snarled nudging your body to move forward. Her warm hands clutching your hand on her waist, for reasons that weren’t clear to you.

It might’ve looked somewhat ungraceful but the two of you managed to get into her office without any more incidents. After placing her on her office chair, you pulled a small stool underneath her injured ankle to prop it up. “I’ll get someone to bring ice”, you announced, already making your way out of the door again. “Can’t you do it?”, she asked snarkily. You turned around, eyes widened at her sharp request. “I meant, can’t you please do it?”, The Baroness corrected herself and sounded a tad bit softer. “Of course, I’ll see what I can do”, you replied and excused yourself.

And some time later you reappeared in her office with a pack of ice in your hands. The Baroness’ looked like she yearned for the coolness on her ankle. You gently placed the ice on her injured spot and took a step back. “That shall do it”, you mumbled and brushed some hair out of your forehead.

There were a few long moments of silence before Baroness von Hellman decided to speak up again. “Thank you”, she said, not looking up from her papers. “You’re welcome”, you replied curtly and turned to go, wanting to prepare the staff for the afternoon Rushhour. “I mean it, thank you”, she repeated with a little more force. It was unlike her to thank someone and even more to actually say it twice. “It’s fine, no worries”, you replied carefully, not knowing if this was a trap. Then the Baroness finally decided to look up at you she waved you over to her desk. “You were the only one to rush over and help me, I owe a ‘thank you’”, she remarked and held your gaze, “Everyone else was too afraid to even ask if I was alright.”

Everything she had said was true, her employees were far too scared to even look directly into her eyes not to mention go up and help her. The longer she looked at you the more you realised that her expression had grown softer. “I just wanted to know that you’re taken care of, I wouldn’t have liked to see you in pain when I was right next to you.” It looked like the baroness was taken aback from your sudden heartfelt words, a subtle smile tugged her lips. “Come back later”, she then said with no hint of mockery or disdain, “And fire that lady with the bag.”

#sapphic #fanfiction #fanfic #wlw love #lesbian #fluff #x reader #x reader imagines #baroness von hellman x reader #baroness von hellman #emma thompson #cruella #cruella de vil #lgbtqia

151 notes · View notes

jamneuromain · 1 year ago

Text

Wild Child Chapter. 3

Series Summary:

As the granddaughter of the sole Duke in your country, you know that you were going to marry some douche prince, because it is the only way to solidify the grasp the future king has on the Upper House. On the flight home, you come up with a brilliant plan to defy your upcoming matrimony.

Bringing a random man to your grandfather's place, and say you have a boyfriend already.

"Is there anything else I should know about? Before I meet your family?" Ari cocks his head to the side, watching you adjusting your cerulean Valentino dress when you wave your hand dismissively.

"Just say we're in love and help me get out of marrying this D-bag."

Ari Levinson x You

#i didn't know he is my fiance-douchebag-prince

#when i did, it was too late

Ari had to excuse himself to take a phone call after your brief conversation, after he instructed Lana to do as she was told.

When you were sure that he had stepped out to take his call, you stopped Lana from introducing the different shapes and makes of your wedding dress, and smiled sweetly, “My phone battery died. Do you mind if I make an urgent call first?”

Lana nodded and took you to the tiny office in the corner, showing you a landline.

You had to thank this guy, Guy Thomas later.

Or you wouldn’t even go near a phone within three feet.

Telling Lana that you wanted a design with a bit of fluffiness with the flare, you sent her to find something similar in the shop while you made this call in private.

The call was picked up on the other side.

“Caroline Hastings’ office, how may I help you?” A receptionist spoke.

“Patch me over to Caroline.” Your fingers clenched on the edge of the table, before they relaxed, careful not to scratch a trail onto the surface, “Tell her it’s Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N! I didn’t know you were back!” Caroline was patched through fairly quickly, “What do you need?”

Hearing Caroline’s voice, you let out an exhale in silence, finally able to breathe properly. Your gaze zeroed on the nametag on the table “Lana Priester”, and her scattered manuscripts. On those were some most beautiful wedding dresses you had ever laid eyes on, even if they were on paper instead of mannequins. If it weren’t for your obnoxious father and his ridiculous requests, you knew, from these manuscripts only, that she would design the dress you wanted.

“Grab a pen and paper.” You instructed Caroline. “Here’s what I need.”

You were back on the couch when Ari returned, sipping on your fourth glass of champagne and discussing with Lana whether your veil could be sparkling but less heavy.

You were patiently listening to the different fabrics that Lana was introducing to you, comparing the fabric examples in your hand, and asking questions about the features of two pieces that looked similar to you.

“It might be difficult to compare with only one layer in your hand,” Lana collected the book of different fabric examples and placed one over a sheet of white, “but the visual outcome will be much more obvious if the dress is made and we’d have this one on top of four or five layers, since you’d like your dress to be fluffy. We’d be considering at least four layers underneath it – Now the other piece is a bit greyer.” She took the other example on top of the white fabric, “Some of our customers prefer the light-grey-misty look on the dress. And through contrast, it would be shinier than the whiter one I’ve shown you.”

“I think I’ll have the whiter one.” After careful consideration, you picked the first fabric, observing it under the light, “And with these changes, you can have the dress ready in four weeks, right?”

“Yes.” Lana had a gleam of determination in her eyes, “We’d also have time to do another dress fitting, right before the wedding.”

“Excellent. I’ll leave you to it.”

Lana dismissed herself, hugging the pile of fabric examples and her manuscripts back to her office, as Ari approached you.

“How did the dress design go?” He took his seat on the couch, pouring himself a glass of champagne.

“It was wonderful.” You sighed almost dreamily, “Just the way I wanted it.”

Ari grinned not-so-subtly. For that smile on your face, he would do anything in his power to make you happy. Ari understood how you were unwilling to marry him, but he also understood your frustration of not having a choice. He didn’t volunteer to be a prince either, but he appreciated your adaptation to your new role as the future queen of this country.

He was glad he could see you in a different way, other than only judging you based on what had happened on the plane. (Plus the fact that he could command the bridal shop owner to call him Mr. Thomas or Guy instead of Your Highness.) He also wanted to retract the comment he had in mind, about you being a handful for him to deal with. You might be sassy, sure. However, considering that you had accepted your fate, showing up nicely to prepare for the upcoming wedding? You were less of a trouble than he thought you would be.

“Speaking of,” Ari stretched his long legs lazily, with a charming smile for good measures, “I’ve given you my card on the plane, as I recall.” He faked his annoyance, “You never called.”

You chuckled, glancing briefly at the large clock behind him, “I would if I had a phone.”

Ari nearly choked on his spit, “What?” He scoffed at your answer, “You don’t have a phone?”

He seriously doubted that. Since everyone would be glued to their phones and messaging apps, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was an excuse that you use, trying to avoid him as much as possible.

“You already know my reluctance to this marriage.” You said this as if it was a daily part of your life, which it was, in fact. “That was a precaution of …” You nursed over your glass, “guaranteeing I wouldn’t contact any extraction team.”

“An extraction team?” Ari couldn’t figure out if he was ridiculed or shocked, “You don’t want to be married that bad?”

The high-pitched voice didn’t bother you, but you pursed your lips together, slightly regretting your decision to share, “The muscle men at the door were for surveillance, honey, not for my safety.”

Ari could not decide whether he was surprised by the fact that your phone was taken away from you, and some sort of imprisonment was ensured so that you wouldn’t run away, or the fact that when you said “extraction team”, you sounded so sincere that he couldn’t tell if you were joking.

You didn’t answer his question of whether you wanted to get married directly, but your attitude spoke for you.

You didn’t like this marriage. You didn’t want him.

On the one hand, Ari had his ego bruised like you just punched him with a boxing glove; on the other, Ari felt truly sorry for you, about his family dragging you into this royal mess that you didn’t want to be a part of. And that there was no way of getting out.

Technically, you could. If he asked to marry another girl from another noble family. But wedding invitations had been sent. Everything prepared had your name and his name on top of it. They had been planning this for over half a year now, and there was no turning back, not at this point.

If he actually did regret this deal, let aside the disappointment and punishments from the King and Queen of this country, your father would do anything in his power to sabotage Ari’s attempt at the throne’s succession, including using his influence to flare the entire Upper House against Ari.

He felt sad. And pathetic. For the fate of this whole country lied upon whether you would marry him, when he was doubtful that he could survive the Upper House without the marriage, when he read from your file that the only thing that connected you to the Upper House is your last name, while you had yet to participate any meetings in the Upper House, which consisted of only men who were old enough to have their one foot stepped into their casket and the other on a banana peel.

If you were in the Upper House, though, things would be different. He would break the marriage deal in the blink of an eye, in order to earn your support in the Upper House.

Too bad he was still a prince. Too bad he could not administer or initiate any law before he took the throne and became the King of Ballenia. Too bad he could not make changes to the status quo, not now, not with his power.

Being a man in his 30s, all Ari could mumble was, “I hope the King and Queen learn about this.”

You scoffed over the edge of your champagne glass, placing it on the coffee table with a sharp click, “And they’ll what? Let their pathetic son swoop in like I’m a damsel in distress?”

“You are a damsel in distress.” Not looking at you, he mumbled to himself, not intending to let you hear his comment.

You let out a short, amused laugh, patting him on his firm bicep, before standing up to take a closer look at the other wedding dresses in this place.

“Oh baby, I’m not a damsel in distress.” Your fingernails raked over the expensive diamonds and pearls on one of the beautiful dresses, clenching your teeth, you spoke as if a prayer. “I’m a woman in a dress. And trust me, I will have everything I want. Even if it means that I have to murder that wimp.”

Somehow, Ari didn’t feel that his head was about to go off, but rather, his dick.

You sounded like you were going to castrate him.

Okay, maybe also murdering him. He was just glad that you didn’t know he was “Ari Levinson”, or God knows what you were planning for him, or pull a knife out of nowhere.

He made the determination to keep this secret identity as long as he could.

Among the fear of his head and dick being in different places than on his body, his mind turned so quickly that he was hit with a realization, “You are laying your murder plan out in front of me? Am I still going to be alive after this conversation?”

Hearing your name being called at the door in a familiar voice, you grinned, shouting to the front door, “Over here, Caroline!”

Ari gulped. This was probably the moment that he needed to regret his reckless decisions. That he shouldn’t marry a to-be-murderer. He should have known that your families were psychos and you were equally insane as everyone else.

His body was going to be found by his guards in a few hours, laying in a pool of blood, had his throat slit……

“Relax.” You laughed, seeing Ari’s face had gone pale, “She’s my lawyer, not my partner in crime.”

Caroline hugged you and complimented you on how well you looked, but one frown from you shut her up about the upcoming wedding and started gathering files from her brown handbag.

“You are not going out of this shop until I am certain that you won’t spill a thing to anyone.” You sat down on the couch, “Caroline, NDA him.”

Ari knew too well what an NDA is.

It is a non-disclosure agreement, with the signed party swearing on almost everything that they own, that they will not leak a word to a single soul in this world.

“Really?!!” Ari assumed the paperwork was at least 20 pages, if not more. Leaning his head back, being able to see you, he scowled, “I offered you champagne and now you pay me back with this?”

“You said you didn’t care, when I told you I’d get you to sign an NDA.”

“Yeah well, I thought that was a joke!” Ari threw his hands up in frustration.

“Aww, don’t be such a baby. You know I would be hanged if our conversation gets out.” You pouted, almost sympathetically, but the smile on your face betrayed you, “Sorry, Guy, if you want the tea, it comes with the gag. But-” You dragged your voice, gesturing to Caroline to take out another file, “If you agree to sign the other file too, there’s some … perks that I can guarantee for your family business.”

Caroline picked up from where you left off, and started explaining to Ari, “If you choose to sign the second contract with Miss. Y/N, you will be her temporal boyfriend for the time being, and in return, Miss. Y/N would wear the jewellery that your business provides for the next two years over two dozen formal occasions.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Ari thought he had misheard you.

“Two years on twenty-five formal occasions.” Caroline rephrased her lines, “And that is only one of the perks of pretending to be Miss. Y/N’s boyfriend.”

“But why?” Ari looked at you, bewildered, “You were marrying … um, the prince. What do you need a fake boyfriend for?”

“You sure you want to know why?” You raised your eyebrows, “That’s gonna get you another NDA.”

He took all his comments back.

You were not a little trouble. No. No. NO!

You were a fucking huge trouble.

“And what if I don’t sign? Neither of them.” Ari challenged you, pushing you to the edge. He crossed his arms, making his biceps bulge more under that blue shirt, “What are you going to do about it, future Miss. Princess?”

You might fuck him for that slutty arm alone.

“I’d fuck you over.” You smiled, not ashamed of using dirty moves against him, not the slightest, “I’d told the royal family about how poorly you’ve done your service, and what a terrible shop owner you are.”

“What if I had connections?” Ari liked his chances, “What if I-”

“I can let you walk free if you sign the first one. I’d have something in exchange for the second one. Make your decision because my patience is short-lived.” You interrupted him. What was with this man and all his questions? You tapped your foot on the ground, bouncing it up and down, something your father forbade you to do over the years but you broke the rule whenever you can, “I like you, Mr. Thomas.” You said softly, “You seem smart. I like doing business with smart people. Now, smart people walk free when they can. Smarter people take their chances to gain more. Which one are you?”

“But I-” Ari was stalling to sign his name. It might not be as recognizable as in typing, but it was clear whether he would start with an “A” -

The corners of his eyes caught the name on the contract.

It wasn’t Ari Levinson.

The name put on the contract was “Guy Thomas”.

He introduced himself as “Guy Thomas”. Had the royal security forged a name and life experience of “Guy Thomas”, and if you presented this contract in front of him, that means you, in the limited time, did not have the time nor the patience to examine whether his fake identity was true – you must have assumed that it was solid and trustworthy, at least enough for you to bring the second contract. But the question remains – “If I sign this,” Ari signed the first NDA with ease and zero hesitation, pointing at the second one, “you have to tell me what it is for.”

“Simple.” You smirked, asking Caroline to check his signature, before replying with a devious smile, “They made me upset. I’m returning the favor.”

Vengeance towards your family and/or the royal family?

You were more than trouble; you were a fucking menace.

Ari took a sharp inhale as he lowered his head to sign his name on the second contract.

Fuck being a prince and all those rules. If this is the way you want to rebel against your family and the royal family, he’d be your knight in shiny armor, making sure that no harm comes your way.

His sane brain was preventing him from signing, as he was well aware that everyone else would know it was a joke, everyone apart from you. It would be devastating for you when you find out.

And yet, he wanted you to spend your last days before the wedding as a happy woman. You had such a horrible family that he wanted to help. He wanted to make you happy. Which reminded him that he had to call his future father-in-law, and get him on board with your plan, while you could not find out a single thing about Ari and his fake identity Guy … and demand him to return your phone and your freedom to you.

Was it pitying? Or was it that he knew you would find a fake boyfriend to piss off your family either way, and in the deepest darkest pit in the bottom of his heart, Ari wanted to be your boyfriend, and be by your side, even if it was a pretence?

Signing the name “Guy Thomas” on the line of the last page of the contract, Ari capped the black fountain pen and returned both objects to Caroline.

He gathered his thoughts as he ran a hand down his full-grown beard, his heart pumping a little faster than usual, probably because he was going undercover much deeper than he had thought he would, or because that making you happy makes him happy as well.

Or both.

The corner of his lips curled into a smile.

“I’m all yours.”

Taglist (also tagging those who might be interested: @irishhappiness @patzammit @identity2212 @lokislady82 @petalj @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @magnificentsaladllama @xx-rennyxx @cringeycookies @autumnrose40 @hawkeyes-queen @vonalyn @theliheat

Find the Wild Child Masterlist here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fluff #prince!ari levinson #royalty au #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson

141 notes · View notes

phantomdreamgirl · 1 year ago

Text

You're Only Lonely

I needed to write for this man, so this is part one of what's going to be just a two parter, as of now 🙃

Baron's been driving non-stop for days.

The floor of his newest car is covered in various Moon Pie and fast food wrappers. His hand brushes an empty soda cup as he reaches for the map that had fallen off the passenger seat.

He slowly pulls off the highway, putting the car in park as he drapes the map over the steering wheel. His finger traces along the tattered paper, mentally mapping out all the little side roads that branch off the main one.

He decides on the one that seems the most promising then folds the map the best he can, before tossing it back towards the passenger seat.

In his periphery, he catches his reflection in the rearview mirror and almost doesn't recognize himself. His shorter hair, though now necessary, was going to take some getting used to. After spending so much time as one version of 'Baron,' he wonders what the newest version should be like, sound like, etc. He still has time to figure it out, as it's still quite a drive to the next town.

After putting the car in gear, it's engine roars to life as he speeds off down the worn asphalt.

He rolls into town during the hottest part of the day. Sweat forms on his brow before he quickly wipes it away with the back of his hand. He has both windows rolled down, in an effort to create better air flow, since this car didn't have working A/C.

The lack of a breeze makes the heat almost unbearable as he slowly cruises down what passes for this town's 'Main Street.'

He thinks how he'd do anything for a vanilla ice cream cone when he looks up to see a weathered sign for an ice cream shop, at the end of the street. He says a silent prayer as he parks in front of it. With a boyish smile, he hops out of the car and excitedly goes inside.

He emerges soon after, with prized vanilla cone in hand. He then decides to walk around for a little while, and see what his new home has to offer. He tries, in vain, to eat his ice cream before it melts all over his hand and the cracked sidewalk below.

It's then he notices a storefront with the words 'Antiques and More' printed on the glass. He stops and gawks at the mannequin in the window. It's wearing a tight, leopard print dress, and he's instantly infatuated.

He enters the store, and immediately goes over to where it's displayed. He's able to size it up better now that he's closer and thinks it could possibly fit him. He's too lost in admiration to notice someone walking up behind him.

"Sorry, but you can't have that in here," a voice says, pulling him out of his daydream.

"What?" Baron asks, turning slightly to see you standing there, looking slightly annoyed.

"The ice cream. It's melting all over the floor. Didn't you see the sign?" You continue, pointing to the hand written 'No Food or Drink' sign that was taped to the door.

"Oh, no I didnt," he replies, flustered. "I'm sorry, I'll... be right back."

He quickly exits the store and disposes the sticky cone in a nearby trash can. You watch his hurried actions with a bemused expression. He returns, wiping the excess ice cream on his jeans, while sporting an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, I guess I was too distracted," he laughs.

"Obviously," you reply, also with a laugh. "Though, I totally get it," you begin, taking a step closer to the window display. "This dress is my favorite one in the store."

He follows, watching with rapt attention as you glide your fingertips along it's hemline.

"From what I could tell from the label, and my thorough, yet limited research is that it's from the fifties," you inform, turning your head so your eyes meet his.

The sudden intensity of his gaze has you looking away.

"Its pretty amazing that it's still in such great shape," you continue, with a wistful smile. "Its, like, comforting to see how certain things stand the test of time, you know?"

You glance at him again and he nods. It's then you notice how his damp, white t-shirt clings to his chest and you have to look away again.

He tries to keep from grinning at the faint hint of blush on your cheeks.

"Anyway, um, I feel like I've taken up too much of your time, so I'll let you have a look around," you announce, with a polite smile, taking a step back.

"Its okay, I don't mind," he smiles, in return. "It's been too long since I've really talked to someone, so this is nice."

You allow yourself to gaze into his soft, hazel eyes and almost melt from how he's looking at you.

"Plus, there's so much stuff in here that I'll probably get overwhelmed, so you might need to show me around," he says, strolling past you before turning on his heel, to face you again, making you giggle.

"I think that's the least I can do, since you're my first and only customer I've had all day," you reply, still with a smile.

"I guess its my lucky day, then," he grins.

You spend the next hour or so guiding him around the store, showing him your favorite pieces. He seems genuinely enthralled with everything you say, a smile still present on his lips, as you ramble on about the history of certain items.

As he follows you towards the back of the store, he notices a rack of more presumably vintage dresses, off to the side.

You also notice how his eyes linger on them, which prompts you to ask, "Why were so you interested in that dress in the window? If you don't mind me asking..."

"It, uh, reminds me of someone," he answers.

You nod, and he immediately senses what you really want to know.

"I don't have a girlfriend, if that's what you're wondering," he adds, as you both reach the back corner of the store.

You try to hide your relieved smile when you turn to face him.

"Why would I be wondering about that when I don't even know your name?" You ask, gazing at him innocently.

He moves closer to you, making you step back. Your lower back presses against the rough, wooden edge of cabinet displaying old NASCAR memorabilia. His eyes never leave yours as he braces his hands on either side of you.

He leans in, his sticky sweet breath on your lips as he counters, "Why don't you tell me yours first?"

Normally, you would never let yourself be lured into a situation like this, but this guy was, quite possibly, the most gorgeous man you'd ever seen. His alluring nature is impossible to resist.

Your name tumbles from your lips, earning another smile from him.

"Its pretty, just like you," he laments, as the tip of his nose brushes yours.

Your hands grip the wood at your sides, with your nails digging into it, as you desperately want to wrap your arms around him.

He teases your waiting lips with his, as he debates whether or not he wants to tell you his real name or another made-up one.

He brings his hand up to your cheek, his thumb lightly caressing your skin, as he whispers, "I'm whoever you want me to be."

#baron lamram #baron x reader #marmalade spoilers

56 notes · View notes