angle skirt

Secret Desires (M)

=> Park Jimin. Hushed lips. Unsuspecting eyes.

Warnings: Strong sexual content. Public Sex. This is really filthy okay.

Words: 2, 919.

a/n: Basically you and Jimin have sex in a movie theater. This ruined me.

“Jimin, I’m not sure about this..”

With a wary gaze from the deserted back row of the medium sized theater, you looked upon the other twelve people occupying once empty chairs. The closest to you was a couple sitting three rows in front, directly in the middle and not much older than you and your very persistent boyfriend.

“They can’t see us, as long as you keep your pretty mouth shut for me.”

Keep reading


not only does 2B literally slap the camera away if you angle it up her skirt, if you do that ten times, you get an achievement that goes on your steam page for everyone to see



Dusty rose silk charmeuse having cream embroidered net high-neck bodice insert and long sleeve, pleated silk wrap-front bodice with heavily embroidered short chiffon sleeve, inserts and center oval, draped and angled skirt, self tassels at back and ends of self chain suspended from waist, trained skirt decorated with net inserts and Celtic knot appliques, satin under-skirt with pleated hem ruffle.

Divided: Part 20

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1832

Summary: Your journey with T’Challa takes an unexpected turn as he causes you to question things about your relationship and yourself. 

Authors Note:  I am still technically on hiatus for one more week until my sister’s wedding is over, but I had a bit of time today and figured that you guys might enjoy this. Plus I’ve been feeling like shit and could use a small confidence boost before the wedding. <3  I always love hearing from you all, so drop a line with thoughts or predictions!  Tagging is open, just ask, if you are on my tag list and your username has changed PLEASE let me know!

Divided: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

“You’re never going to find him.” You snarl, your arms crossed against the thick leather belt that held you against the chair. “Do you ever stop talking?” T’Challa rolls his eyes in front of you, his fingers flexing in annoyance as they curl tighter around the steering stick.

“Nope.” You pop your lips, the sound making him wince slightly, “Better get used to it T.C. You’re the one that pulled me from my team and dragged me on your wild goose chase. You can let me off anytime…” You taunt, narrowing your eyes in annoyance.

He refuses to acknowledge you, his gaze darting briefly to the radar as he flies slightly to the left, correcting his course. “Come on T.C. we’ve been screwing around in the air for hours now. I know for a fact it does not take this long to get to Wakanda.”

He smiles slightly, biting his lip as you suddenly start with surprise. “We’re… we’re not going to Wakanda… are we?” You ask in confusion, your brow furrowing slightly at him, his silence causing your heart to beat faster, each thump echoing in your ears.

“Then where… where are we going?” You feverishly glance around through the windows of the cockpit, trying to get your bearings but all you see is black as the rain whips along the outside.

T’Challa smiles slightly, as if he knows something you don’t, “I don’t know yet.” T’Challa speaks slowly, his patience waning as he stares at the radar screen. Suddenly a large area of the radar becomes illuminated as you hear a deafening rumble from below.

“What is that?” You search wildly for answers as you try to look out through the darkened windows of the small jet, but you are unable to see anything but the black sea. T’Challa reacts quickly, causing the plane to tumble sharply to the right, turning at a tight angle to skirt along the sea, shaking with turbulence under the full force of the storm.

“What are you doing!?” You yell, gripping onto the leather straps as T’Challa lets out a slightly exhilarated laugh. “Finding out where we are going… wasn’t that your request?” He chuckles, explaining himself as if none of his flying technique was out of the ordinary.

You glance forward to see a large fortress rise from the ocean, as if it were a fabled sea monster rising beneath the surface, it’s iron jaws springing open to release a small helicopter before closing quickly as it descends back to its home in the depths of the black water.

T’Challa raises the jet slightly, elevating up to the clouds, quickly chasing the small helicopter. “Stark.” You breathe, reading the name emblazoned on the side of the chopper, “We’re following Stark?” You question as T’challa sinks the jet into the clouds, his eyes carefully watching the helicopter above.

“Oh come on… you could at least fucking answer me.” You huff, crossing your arms across your chest once more, your annoyance peaking at being ignored. There is a small flash of light in the distance below the chopper, a slight bit of movement ruffling over the roof of the jet, though nothing appears on the radar.

T’Challa moves quickly, tilting the jet directly upwards as he rolls into position, turning to follow the small streak in the air. “Stark… He knows something… He knows where we are going.” T’Challa affirms, finally providing you with some answers, however cryptic they were.

You sit there staring straight ahead in bewilderment as T’Challa flicks the controls, setting the plane to increase in speed as you follow the air current of Stark’s suit, keeping a safe distance.

“Why won’t you just listen to reason T’Challa. You are King now, your people rely on you, to lead them, to take care of them. But instead you gallivant off in chase of false vengeance?” You spit forward at the would be king, hoping to talk some sense into him.

“How much you think you know, but how little you understand, young arachnid. My father will not know rest until his murderer faces justice, it is my duty to see it done.” T’Challa speaks firmly, his tone biting as you recoil slightly at the sharpness of his tone.

You take a deep breath, your attitude returning in full force as you find your voice once again, never being one to lose it for long. “First off, how many times do I have to tell you? Bucky did not kill your father, it was this crazy guy who impersonated the psychiatrist, he has a plan to awaken these deadly assassins in…” You stop yourself before giving away the location, not wanting to aid T’Challa in his quest.

“He didn’t do it T’Challa, you’ll see I’m right in the end.” You finish, your voice losing its hostile tone, as you implore him to hear you. “And the second thing?” T’Challa asks quietly, requesting the latter part of your argument.

“The name is scorpion, not arachnid.” You speak firmly, declaring your title for his use. He nods, smiling slightly at your defiant tone.

“Ah, yes, the scorpion. Known for its stinger, dulling out critical hits from a small puncture wound.” He speaks softly, chuckling slightly to himself, “Tell me scorpion, is that the only reason for your title? Your exceptional ability with knives?” He raises an eyebrow.

You don’t respond, not knowing where he is going with the question, confused at T’Challa’s sudden desire to talk to you. “No.” He answers softly, responding to his own question, “I believe not. It is not just your deadly skill… it is your nature… to defend yourself; to attack.” He speaks slowly, his words swirling in your head as something tenses inside your chest.

You bite your lip, your eyes stinging slightly as tears prick at the back of them. Your fist curl into defensive balls as your shoulders roll back into a broad position. You couldn’t quite explain why T’Challa’s words were causing such a visceral reaction in you, or why his simple statement caused your stomach to twist into knots, but the dark truth of his words caused every hair on your body to stand on edge.

“I spoke once before about the story of the scorpion and the turtle. In my culture, we tell this to growing children when they reach the age where they begin to find themselves.” He takes a deep breath as you watch him, your shoulders tense, awaiting his lecture.

“One day a scorpion needed to cross a river, so it implores a turtle to please carry it across the river. At first, the turtle hesitates, unsure of whether or not to trust the scorpion, fearing that it might be stung.” He begins, you roll your eyes as he lectures you.

“The scorpion argues with the turtle, reasoning that if it was to sting him, then they would both drown… The turtle considers this, realizing the logic of the scorpion’s argument and agrees to carry the young scorpion across.” T’Challa speaks slowly, wanting every word to resonate with you.

“And let me guess,” you snarl, your anger flaring forcefully in your chest, “The scorpion stung the stupid turtle anyway.”

“Yes.” T’Challa said simply, “The scorpion stung the turtle, dooming them both. And when the turtle asked the scorpion why, do you know what it said?” You stay silent, knowing him well enough to predict that he was about to answer his own question.

“The Scorpion replies that it was in its nature to do so.” T’Challa falls silent, waiting to see the effect that the story had on you.

“So what? You’re saying that I am self-destructive? You’re not the first one to notice that T.C.” You snarl, your defenses rising again. “Besides the turtle should have been looking out for himself, you expect me to believe that his shell failed to shield him? Or that he was actually dumb enough to believe the scorpion?”

“You miss the point young one.” He interrupts you, recognizing the defensive tone in your voice, “The scorpion does not sting the turtle for self-destruction. The scorpion is fundamentally vicious… vicious in its nature… it will not change.” T’Challa finishes, falling silent once again, leaving you to think.

“So is it about me? Are you saying I’m vicious?” Your hostility rises as his insults sting inside of you, touching on nerves of truth that you subconsciously kept controlled.

“I’m not saying anything, Y/N. It’s just a story…” He smirks to himself as you sit behind him in silence. His words reverberating in your head.

Who was he talking about? What was he talking about? What all does he know? Your heart pounds quickly as your mind races, is he referring to what I did to Steve… how I hurt him, how I stung him? So if I am the scorpion… Then is Steve the turtle… Or is Bucky now the turtle? Your eyes squeeze shut, your head aching slightly with your swirling thoughts.

Is Bucky the scorpion? It would not be far off that T’Challa thinks him vicious…Why insist on telling me this story if there is no point to it? You glance through the window, noticing the terrain had changed in the time you had gotten lost in your swirling thoughts. The area outside had become mountainous, snow coating the ground and peaks of the rising crests.

“Where… where are we?” You ask, getting nervous at the sight of your new location. T’Challa does not answer you, remaining silent as he fiddles with the controls at his fingertips, his eyes never moving from the wind shield.

“T’Challa,” you speak more firmly, demanding him to answer you, “We are passing over western Russia at the moment.” He says quietly, paying careful attention to your quickening breath at his words.

He knows. He knows Bucky is in Siberia. “T’Challa,” You start slowly, knowing your hand had already been played for you. Your only hope now is to reason with him on your lover’s behalf.

“I am done listening to your arguments Y/N. I have heard your words and have weighed them against my evidence. They have been found wanting.” T’Challa speaks quickly, his tone calm, but assertive. “I will do you the service of taking him captive. Thus leaving him alive, and able to stand trial. This is all I will guarantee you.”

You sit silently, thinking through T’Challa’s offer, knowing at the least it was a guarantee of Bucky, remaining alive… T’Challa would give him a trial, he would see once and for all that Bucky was innocent, you were willing to take those odds.

You smile slightly, now understanding Natasha’s promise that she was doing you a favor. At the very least you had the guarantee of Bucky’s survival… Your stomach clenches as you suddenly realize how faint of a guarantee that was, knowing full well what Steve and Bucky had headed towards, hoping that Tony, T’Challa and yourself would be enough to help them.

Tags: @imhereforbvcky @heismyhunter @iamtal @nickel5socks @ohmygoshbucky @person0thats0not0a0people0person @spacegaystrashcompactor @creideamhgradochas @shamvictoria11 @discophony @imheretomarvel @k-nighttt @lbouvet @mitra-k-w @pabegay1 @unevenpages @spookymlder @ginamsmith @sapphire1727 @making-the-most-0f-it @alphaallie @supersoldierslover @denialanderror @nykitass @colt-eleven-impala-sixtyseven @feelmyroarrrr @lilacs-lavender @yknott81 @almondbuttercup @callamint @thisisthelilith @angel–radio @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @nikkitia7 @himasugi @amrita31199 @avengerofyourheart @nodramaaloud @ailynalonso15 @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @watch-out-for-thorns @thewintersoldierprogram @skeletoresinthebasement @specs15 @marvel-lucy @seargantbcky @hardcorehippos @brittanymcsharry @runaway-escape @byebyebyelilsebastianstan @buckybarnesisalittleshit @demondeansdomme @emmatheawesome @buckyn0 @kaiyaisbae @i-swam-through-twelve-oceans @umm-sorry @originalaura @chrisevansisdaddy04 @captain-sassy-bum @mairhof1 @dont-let-me-go-again @givemethatgold @sorryidontspeakgrounder-world  @kristygear @factorfreshness @maygenjayne1 @eloquentpetrichorpeculiar @charlottedurin99 @sammyissassy @earinafae @the-witching-hours12-3 @imamoose @sarahgracej @misty-summer-nights @magicintheelements @alphasoldier @mrsnegan25 @superwinterlockhook @luckynumbrnelly @toinfinityandbeyondaffection @the-girl-without-a-face @theginamariestaytion @coffeeismylife28 @loveyourselfcreateyourself @lost-in-the-stories @blueeyedboobear @angiesanchez314 @bridgeneem @cornflax01 @shifutheshihtzu @cheythehulk @movingonto-betterthings 

sorry for double selfishing but look this angle/skirt makes it look like i have an ass that dont look like a deflated tire im livin 

Pizza, dresses and misery

Pairing : Namjoon x you

Genre : fluff/comedy

Word count : 1743

Summary : You go shopping for a wedding dress with all the guys except Namjoon, who is not allowed to see it until the big day, so he’s upset.

requested by : @too-many-fandoms666

A/N: I had to research the terms for wedding dresses which was…interesting x) ALSO I’VE MADE A LONG ONE GUYS ! Well longer than the other ones at least :) I’m not too sure about the ending and the title though sorry x) I couldn’t think of anything creative for the title D: I know I said that I’ll be writing more mature stuff but hold on, folks ! I’m working on a request that’s basically a mature reaction so that’s going to be coming your way soon ;D

Keep reading

Continuing on from what I’ve been posting about skants recently, I decided to make a few of my own.

To skip straight to the “typical” skant for humans, look to the large doodles on the right. It was originally a stiff tunic, kinda like the TNG skants, but you know what rides up if you try to sit in it? Stiff tunics. So I’ve gone for a pleated skirt design. Being tailored, it’ll lie flat and smart well, but also have plenty of freedom of movement. The inside is lined with the division colour, and there’s always a stripe of it visible. It can also be pinned up, if needed, which has the added bonus of creating a colour-band sash. Officers can pair the top with shorts, leggings or trousers, whichever they’d prefer or need to. Because of the side-split for mobility though, it’s necessary to wear one of those three things.

Over on the left, a Ktarian wears a skant paired with trousers, and underneath a Vulcan wears… well it’s a skant (with shorts), but it can’t help but look like a cape. I’m sure other versions exist too which are a bit less cape-like, and you probably won’t find many Vulcans in shorts. There’s also a Bajoran officer, wearing a skant with leggings.

In the middle, there’s a selection of humans, wearing a few different uniform designs. At the bottom there’s an officer wearing a long and less-tailored (no darts, no pleats, the side-split also starts further down) version of the skant, with trousers and a hijab in their division colour. Above is an officer wearing a non-tailored tunic - very similar to the maternity wear, but without the extra fabric to account for growth. So both of these officers are wearing versions of the uniforms more suited to people who either don’t want or cannot have their uniforms to be tailored to their shape.

Right up at the top, is Julian wearing two of his uniforms! He has a tailored version of the long skant which he wears with leggings. It looks like a bathrobe as a result, but I don’t think anybody has told him. He also has a tailored short skant (also paired with leggings), which he wears more commonly. His preferred style is to wear them with shorts, so they more closely resemble his old uniform.

I think in general, given the variation needed to outfit every single member species of Starfleet (at least those that wear clothes), Starfleet doesn’t have set uniforms so much as they have a “style guide”, plus probably only two rules: 1) A minimum of 10% of your visible uniform must be your division colour, and 2) Your division colour must be visible in some way from every angle. So many more skirt style uniforms other than these will exist, based on factors such as religion and culture, identity, whether that person experiences dysphoria of any kind, etc. The same is somewhat true of the jumpsuits and trouser versions of the uniform, which may be more or less tailored to shape depending on the person wearing it, for example.

Horse Hair Braid/Super Ruffles Tutorial

Some designs have mountains of ruffles or such flowy ruffles. Sometimes just gathering your skirt won’t do the job. Like for eternal moon or Sakizou’s Honey, sometimes your ruffles need a little help!


-Fabric, yardage depends on the project.

-Matching thread.

-Horse hair braid (measure your skirt hem for yardage)

-Patients! This is a long process!

Step 1: You will want to fold your fabric down the middle and than once more creating a right angle. Use your circle skirt pattern and cut out two different circle skirts.

NOTE: You can do as many circle skirts as you need, for senshi skirts I do 2 circle skirts.


Step 2: Now you should have to identical circle skirts! You will want to check them to make sure they match up and not that one isn’t much longer than the other!


Step 3: You will cut a slit up the side of each one of the skirts. Next you will sew them together to make one monster skirt. You can do a normal seam or a French seam depending on what project your using it on.


Step 4: Now you will want to let your skirt(s) sit over night to let the hem drop/relax. Sometimes with some fabrics they can stretch a little so this will give your hem its chance to change and now mess you up later.


Step 5: Now pin the horse hair braid to the right side of your skirt. Wider ones have a string you will pull to create a curved edge. Less wide versions will curve without the string.


Step 6: Now you will sew the horse hair braid to the skirt. Stitch it to the side that will face out in the end. Make sure to gently hold it, if you pull the braid will change shape as you stitch. NOTE: Stitch at a ¼th, you want to only have a little between the stitch and the edge because you will be flipping it.


Step 7: Now for ironing round 1! You will flip the horsehair and them hem to the wrong side of the fabric, you will iron the hem down. This will keep it flat when you stitch the top half down.


Step 8: Go and stitch down the top part of the horse hair braid down, you will want to pin it down before stitching. Take your time so you don’t miss the top when stitching, stitching it this way will keep it from pulling and bubbling weirdly.


Step 9: Now you will want to go iron it down again. If your fabric is thin you may want to put down a cloth between it and your iron so to keep the braid from creating a weird pattern on your hem.


Step 10: Pleat or gather your skirts together! In my case I pleated my skirt, this is how it turned out, the horse hair braid helps it ruffle out a lot!

Morning Flames

So instead of midterm reviews i wrote this in class yesterday 

Elucien is probably one of the things in ACOWAR I’m most excited for, so i couldn’t help writing it, this is basically years and years after everything has calmed down and the whole squad is happy in Velaris (BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN)

This is my first fanfic, so I hope y’all enjoy, maybe I will do more! ^ 3 ^

The sea breeze drifted into the bedroom, gently waving the curtains framing the open widow. Lucien savored the fresh scent, the cool kiss against his skin as he listened to Elain softly snoring beside him. His mate was curled against him, nestled beneath the covers. Her golden hair lay disheveled around her, shifting slightly in the breeze, and Lucien was certain she was the most heartbreakingly beautiful female he had ever lain eyes on. He studied her, turning and wrapping an arm around her waist protectively as he nuzzled her neck, breathing in her scent. Her intoxicating scent, like springtime and pastries, was probably the only thing in the world that could calm him at any time, without fail. A small, sleep addled sound escaped her as she stirred, turning to him and inquired sleepily “Luci?” 

Lucien grinned at the nickname he’d eventually grown fond of, placing a small kiss against her rosy lips. “Good morning, dear,” Elain’s face flushed with warmth as she nestled closer to him, sighing softly. “Do we have to get out of bed today?” Lucien chuckled, stroking her hair as he replied, “I suppose not, but I heard that Tara got a shipment of the flowers you’ve been looking for to plant in the garden. Morning Flames, I think. I was planning on taking a trip to Hoof and Leaf today, but if you’d rather stay in bed…” Elain’s eyes sparkled as she sat up, flashing her brilliant smile at him. “Lucien, did you really? I already asked, Tara only gets those on special orders!” He laughed, rich and deep as he sat up too, cupping her cheek and murmuring, “Of course, it’s a special day after all.” She giggled and slipped out of bed, exposing the soft curve of her stomach, promising life in the months to come. 

Lucien, kissed her one more time before heading into the kitchen to make them breakfast. Though his cooking skills had not improved much over the years, he tried so hard that Elain didn’t have the heart to tell him she could do it herself. As he was setting out the plates Elain emerged from their room in a flowing, soft pink gown with little blue embroidered flowers flowing from the three-quarter sleeves, over the bodice, and onto the top of the skirt. Her soft curls were half up and braided, her doe brown eyes accented with a softly shimmering powder that sparkled almost as bright as her smile. “You look radiant Elain, care for some eggs?” He winked at her and she laughed, sitting down and nearly sighing in relief. Even Lucien couldn’t mess up eggs. “I think eggs sound good to him,” she replied lightly, placing a hand on her belly. Lucien grinned, “Or her.” She giggled as he kissed her cheek and slipped into the bedroom to change while she ate.

He emerged in a soft green tunic that complimented his burnished copper hair, his weapons slung around his shoulder despite Elain insisting upon their uselessness. Having already eaten before Elain was ready, they set out for the Palace of Hoof and Leaf.

                     __________The Palace of Hoof and Leaf_________

“These are exactly what I was looking for!” Elain exclaimed joyously, turning to Lucien with a bundle of delicate flame-red flowers in her arms. The late spring air was shedding it’s chill in Velaris, and the sun glinted off Lucien’s own fiery hair as he spread his arms and bowed, smiling mischievously. “Happy Birthday, Elain.” Tara laughed behind them, the lesser faerie’s eyes filled with pride as she said, “I’m glad you like them Elain, I’ll even discount it for you since it’s a special occasion.”

Like most shop owners, really most anyone in Velaris actually, Tara had adored Elain the moment she wondered into her nursery during her first moths in Velaris, all those years ago. Since then they had become good friends, and Elain had even brought in business, being the High Lady’s sister and all. She was a lesser faerie with dark green hair, chocolate skin, and dark whirling patterns high on her cheeks. 

As Tara prepared the bill, Elain set the morning flames down and hugged Lucien, still beaming as she murmured, “Thank you Luci, I love them. How did you even know I was looking for these?” Lucien smiled, his mechanical eye whirring softly as he gazed at her, holding her tightly. “All I had to do was ask Tara what you’ve been inquiring about lately, dear. I noticed you had cleared a space outside the baby’s window and figured you had some plan for it.” She looked up at him, pecking his cheek. “I forget how observant you are. I can’t ever do anything without you figuring it out to some extent can I?” He laughed, Mother above he loved that she made him laugh so much, and teasingly replied, “I know you so well, It’s impossible to keep almost anything from me. I even knew you were pregnant before you did!” He placed a hand on the curve of her stomach and they both smiled.  “You cheated, your stupid male senses are made for that sort of thing.” 

“Alright, I’ve billed your account and you’re all set. Enjoy the flowers Elain!” Tara said brightly as she approached, smiling at the couple. “Thank you Tara, I’ll be sure to deliver those clippings you wanted of the Belonica rose soon.” Tara nodded appreciatively and waved as she walked off to help another customer, and Lucien and Elain wondered back into the square, headed towards the Palace of Thread and Jewels.

As they walked, Elain raised an eyebrow and glanced at Lucien. “Luci, this isn’t the way back home. Where are you taking us? He smiled and squeezed her hand softly. “I have another surprise for you Elain.” She sighed, a smirk playing across Lucien’s lips as she said with false exasperation, “You do love your surprises.” 

They Turned onto the main strip of Thread and Jewels, and Lucien guided them into a small up and coming boutique that had opened just a few weeks beforehand. The High Fae woman at the counter looked and beamed at them, exclaiming, “Oh, Sir Lucien your here! A-and Lady Archeron! It’s such an honor!” The Fae, young by their standards, blushed deeply and curtsied low, her riotously curly raven hair tumbling over her shoulders. The gown she wore was exquisite, no doubt a creation of her own. The bodice was made of a sheer, wine red lace with an elaborate twisting design of small pink crystals embroidered on it. The skirts flowed from a point low on her hips, the long sleeves and skirts made of a peculiar material with the flow and sheerness of chiffon but the shine of satin. A subtle slit ran up her left leg to her mid thigh, revealing most of her winter-paled leg.

As she rose, Elain blushed even redder than the girl at being addressed so formally. People still used her official title, but it happened so rarely that it always flustered her. Lucien’s eyes crinkled with laughter, and he bent down to whisper in her ear, “Care to follow her, My Lady?” Elain frowned and elbowed Lucien hard, sending him a single step back as he laughed loudly. The girl’s deep green eyes flicked between them, and she seemed to relax as she stated politely, “Follow me please, its back here.” 

They went with the girl, and Elain curiously asked, “What is your name? I haven’t seen this shop before, are you new to Velaris?” She smiled and answered, “Yes actually, me and my sisters moved here a few months ago. They opened a party planning business while I set up my boutique here, I’m Aglaia by the way.” Elain smiled and blurted, “Aglaia, like the rose!” before immediately going red at her sudden outburst. Lucien chuckled as the girl laughed, “I’m surprised, not many people know about the flower, but I did hear you have a passion for gardening.” Elain nodded softly as they entered a small back room, before stopping short, her breath catching. 

“What do you think dear?” Lucien said in almost cocky yet awestruck tone as he put a hand on her shoulder. In the center of the room, elevated on a pedestal, stood a mannequin wearing a gown incomparable to any Elain had seen, even at the grand balls Rhysand occasionally threw. “I…,” Elain said slowly, her eyes wide in wonder, “I think I’m going to have to tell Feyre about this place immediately.” Aglaia took a sharp breath and asked, bewildered, “The High Lady herself?” but Elain was already drifting toward the pedestal, enchanted with the dress.

The long sleeves were made of a flowing, pale green gauzy material, which ended just above the mannequins knuckles. There were small, glittering jewels in a varying floral pattern the extended up to the shoulders but left much of the sleeve bare. The neckline was a gentle V, embroidered with a matching floral pattern from before but in a dark red fabric, which accentuated the top of the breasts, but didn’t plunge. The bodice was the same green as the sleeves, but it was made of an iridescent material that reflected various colors depending on the angle. The skirts bloomed seamlessly, the first layer made of the bodice’s material, and the overlay the sheer gauzy fabric of the sleeves with the same sparkling floral patter weaving its way up from the bottom of the gown. From around the mannequins neck hung a simple, striking necklace. From a chain fashioned to resemble a thorny stem, a brass rose in full bloom hung as the pendant, a rich ruby embedded in the center, as well as a pair of elegant dangling ruby earrings. Elain gasped as she studied them, tears filling her eyes and she lifted her left hand to examine her wedding ring. It was a slim copper band, holding a simple red gem framed by a rose in bloom. A perfect matching set.  

She turned, the tears spilling down her cheeks as she smiled and whispered. “This is the most… How did you…” Lucien’s eyes gleamed with a pride only a male could muster, as he replied softly, “We have a party to go to. I thought I’d commission a new dress for the occasion.” Elain laughed and embraced him tightly, locking her lips with his in a passionate kiss, She whispered, “I love you,” as she pulled away, and he murmured back, “I love you more, dearest.” As they separated, Aglaia cleared her throat, her cheeks tinged red, and asked, “Would you like to begin the fitting Lady Elain?”

                  _____________The House of Wind_____________

They exited the small boutique several hours later, Elain having tipped Aglaia a large sum for her help, to find Rhysand, Feyre, and Cassian waiting for them. Feyre beamed at Elain’s dress, her own gown glimmering in the Velaris twilight. “Ready to go?” she asked, the two males beside her stretching their wings. Elain nodded, trying not to laugh at the distressed look on Lucien’s face. They couldn’t winnow into the House of Wind, so one of the Inner Circle’s males usually had to fly him, though he had opted to take the stairs once. Only once. “I think so, right Luci? No more surprises?” He glanced at her, the anxiety melting off his face as he caught her scent again. “I suppose…” He conceded with a tight smile. 

Feyre materialized her own wings and scooped up Elain, shooting into the sky and toward the House of Wind, shielding them from the wind with her power. Feyre smiled at her sister, genuine happiness and love sparkling in her blue eyes. “You look gorgeous Elain. Lucien must feel like the luckiest male in Prythian right now. The cocky bastard will be bragging all night.” Elain giggled, nodded, “Probably, but I’ll see if I can get him to tone it down, just a bit.” The sisters continued to chat as they landed, the boys close behind them, and entered the House. Elain could already hear the music playing, the rustle of skirts and feet.

Lucien caught up to them, linking his arm in Elain’s. He had changed into his own suit at the boutique, a dark green with wine red accents which matched Elain’s own gown. He smiled at her as they rounded the corner and entered the ballroom. There were only about a dozen couples, and Lucien spotted Nesta, Mor, Amren, and Azriel immediately. They approached as Rhys and Cassian joined them at the top of the steps, Nesta hugging her sister before Amren pushed her way through to inspect Elain’s jewelry. She turned her unnaturally silver gaze on Lucien and said, “Well, the one eye you have left is definitely good,” before grinning sauntering away. Mor and Elain tried their best to smother their laughter as Lucien stood frozen. He didn’t think he would ever get used to Amren, not matter how often he was around her.

When Lucien recovered he took Elains hand and walked down the steps into the room. Rhys and Feyre were already dancing, oblivious to the world, Amren was running her eyes over her newest plaything and swirling a glass of Mother knew what, and Cassian was at the bar, hitting on Nesta as per usual, who was acting rather annoyed even though a faint smile softened her features. Mor and Azriel danced in a corner, forehead to forehead as they swayed to the music. Elain took up the waltz, resting her head on Lucien’s shoulder as they swept across the floor, her gown shimmering with every movement. 

They danced and danced, laughing with friends in between, Lucien only leaving Elain’s side to fetch water or food. The party finally died down well into the night as a clock somewhere chimed twice, and Rhys and Feyre flew them home before saying their goodbyes. They walked into their cozy manor by the sea, the scent of the ocean mingling with Elian’s garden as the wind drifted in through several large windows. Lucien wrapped his arms around Elain’s waist, pulling her to him and kissing her gently. 

They entered the bedroom, and Lucien helped remove her gown, hanging it up after she finally stepped out it, not missing a glimpse of her body. When he returned, he had removed his own suit in the dressing room, leaving his body completely bare. Elain was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking out past the garden at the ocean with a hand on her ever growing belly, her underthings lying beside her on the floor. He sat next to her, placing one hand over hers and cupping her cheek with the other, pulling her into a passionate yet gentle kiss. She swung her legs onto the the bed and laid back, lacing her hands in his coppery crimson locks and sighing softly. 

They made love until they began to drift off, and as Elain faded in Lucien’s embrace, he softly murmured, “Happy Birthday, my dear Elain.”

They next morning Elain was the first to wake. She opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the late morning light, and yawned, scanning the room. As she nestled against Lucien, her eyes snagged on the small table across the room, where the flowers from yesterday sat, waiting to be be planted. The morning flames were just beginning to close, as it was probably nearly noon, but the red and orange flowers were still just as striking, reminding her of her mates own fiery hair. She smiled as she observed them, feeling a slight stirring in her belly as her child moved within her. She turned toward Lucien, trying not to disturb him, and played with a strand of his hair as she thanked the Mother for her beautiful little family.


     You straightened the belt accentuating your waist and pulled a fuzzy Santa hat over your head, turning in the mirror to see your outfit from all angles. The skirt was full, the hem lined with soft white fur, your arms were bare, and the fabric was just short enough to show the garter holding up the tops of your black stockings.

     It was perfect.

     Your cherry-red heels clicked on the floor as you made your way to the bedroom you and Dean shared, your confidence growing with each echoing step. You opened the door and put your hand on your hip, Dean’s gaze immediately flicking up to you.

     His eyes widened and he dropped the dismantled gun he was cleaning on the desk.

     “What’s this?” Dean asked as he walked towards you, his voice already low with lust.

     You grabbed Dean’s hands and guided them around your waist, his breath catching when his fingers brushed the corset-style back of the dress. His eyes moved up and down your body greedily.

     “Remember when I said if you went with me to take a picture with Santa I would make it up to you?”

     Dean mumbled something unintelligible as his gaze drifted down to your low neckline. You rolled your eyes and smiled.

     “Well, this is me making to up to you.”

     Dean looked up and let loose what could only be described as a growl, winding his arms around your waist and connecting his lips to your neck faster than you could blink. He left open-mouthed kisses all along your shoulder and chest, making his way up your throat and to your lips with a primal fervor. It took all your remaining good sense and focus to think to shut the bedroom door.

     Then every thought flew out of your head when he pressed you up against it.

     Your back slid against the painted wood of the door as Dean held you in place, his big hands on your hips the only thing keeping you steady on already-wobbly feet. And then he went lower.

     Dean slid his hands down your sides and sank to the floor, dragging his fingers along your body as he went. You tangled your fingers in his hair and tilted your head back as he unclipped the garter belt holding your stocking in place, then pulled the thin fabric down your leg, following his rough fingers with possessive kisses. You drew in a shuddering breath and pulled him to his feet, crashing your lips to his once again.

      Skilled fingers began toying with the lacing on the back of your dress - how he knew what to do you had no idea – and after a few more breathless kisses the sexy Santa outfit was loose enough to slide off your body. But he made no move to do so. Instead, Dean put his hand under your thigh and lifted you off the ground, making you moan against his lips as you wrapped your legs around his muscled torso.

     When your back hit the mattress and Dean stood up to remove his shirt, the view of his chest making your breath come that much faster, you finally managed to say, “See, wasn’t taking that picture worth it?” now that your mouth was momentarily unoccupied.

     Dean was on top of you in a second - his body hovering just enough to keep his full weight off of you, but not so much that you couldn’t feel his bare chest pressing against yours – and he connected his lips with yours in a bruising kiss, his voice rumbling through your body when he finally said, “So worth it.”

Day One | Day Two | Day Three | Day Four | Day Five | Day Six | Day Seven | Day Eight | Day Nine | Day Ten | Day Twelve

(You DO NOT have to read the previous parts for this one to make sense.)

Note: I will be posting these stories for 12 days, if you don’t want to be tagged 12 days in a row please tell me, I don’t want to annoy anyone!

*These gifs are not mine, both the gifs are from Google Images*
Tags are under the cut!

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Dungeon N’ Fighter concept game art to my tastes. The Brawler black polish turns me on, tattered clothing and smeared poison is sexy. Diva (Wrestler) diggin the showmanship waving her opponent in to bring it, her ring outfit and her stomach is the most attractive asset on her. From playful to fierce, not afraid to show off her perfect body, Battle Mage on the right being the sexiest; i love her lookin back with the very nice angle for the combat skirt.

Private Mission. Pietro x Reader.

Word Count: 1,297

“You guys go on ahead,” you were still panting after coming into the facility from your second run of the day, “I’m going to go upstairs and workout.” You walked past the group of Avengers who were dressed for a night out. The only one missing was Thor; he went to visit Jane.
“Come on, Y/N! Take the night off, I insist.” Tony reached out to take your arm, but you pulled away.
“No. It’s really okay. I need to stay focused on stuff here. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You gave a sincere look and left them, heading to the weight room where you spent most of your free time.

“I do not understand,” Pietro mumbled, “Why does she not have any fun?”
“She takes her job seriously,” Natasha replied, “I respect that.”
“Well let me tell you something,” Tony kept his eyes on you as you walked on the other side of the open lobby, “She wasn’t always like that. When I took her in all those years ago, she was always laughing and enjoying herself. She had some way to keep up her humor even when she started getting into her job here. I don’t know why, but only two or three years ago was when she got so serious. I’ve never seen such a change in someone.” No one spoke for a few moments and then they filed out to the cars for their evening. Pietro didn’t say anything else about it that night, but in his mind, he was trying to strategize his new mission to get you to smile and to even laugh again. 

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melissabosquez-deactivated20150  asked:

Rumbelle teacher/student smut. This is my favorite trope so I will take all I can get. lol

this is probably the last one I do tonight, but I will straight up tell you it’s my favorite too and I couldn’t resist (and there’s some Golden Lace of this trope on the AU prompts link on my page)



Belle was reluctant to admit that she had made something of a study of Mr. Gold, but she had, and she knew that he noticed breasts, and that he liked blue. So, tonight she was wearing her short blue dress, with a pendant strategically placed–not in her cleavage, since she didn’t have enough–to draw the eye to her chest. Her legs were her best feature, and she had bought a cheap pair of what could only be called ‘fuck-me heels’ in scarlet. They matched the belt on the navy dress, and her hair was pulled up carefully.

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And You Are The Roots That Sleep Beneath My Feet

It holds steady.

This life doesn’t lend itself to foundations. Moving, always moving. Air and water and land. Tiny corners of home are made and held to with comfort. A bunk on a bus. Meals made that taste familiar. Shared shower gel and clothes. And people. There are many, but there are those who have climbed with them, and those that have become friends. A new kind of family.

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fun fact: they shorten most of holland’s clothing on teen wolf

more fun facts: 98% of the clothes are altered

even more fun facts: directors invite the skeeze by low shot angles on girls in skirts