#OVERWHELMING votes for pleated skirt

[placesyoucallhome]

I am never gonna give you anything you expect You think I'm like the others Boy, you need to get your eyes checked

#Q'ruhka #art #OVERWHELMING votes for pleated skirt #this is actually one of ruhkas glamours #well plus stockings because he cant have the skirt and the 2b bottoms on at the same time #but he would if he could #so anyways sinday contribution for the week

[daltonacademia]

There’s A Time For Daring - 1

charlie dalton x fem!reader [post events of the movie]

word count: 1.7k

warning: allusions to sex / slight sexual harrassment? drinking, mentions of neil’s suicide, horrible parents 

Charlie couldn’t help but emit a low growl as his vomit-inducing, picture-perfect, high-society mother and father, whom he despised, prodded him towards the expansive front entrance of Nealson Preparatory School located in southern Vermont. His fuschia-lipped, cakey-faced mother, Cynthia Dalton, was a well-dressed, dignified housewife by day and charming socialite by night; she was particularly harsh as she trampled his pen-stained oxfords with her spearish kitten heels. His eyes shot daggers at the snow-strewn path below, a familiar fire burning in his core.

There were many things Charlie was tempted to furiously spit out at his parents, but instead, he managed to keep his jaw clamped shut, his pearly whites digging into the light pink of his lips hard enough to draw blood. No matter what he shouted, cried, pleaded, they wouldn’t budge. They never would. And it was infuriating.

“Charles! Being expelled from such a prestigious school is no laughing matter, young man. That school cost us quite the pretty penny! How dare you defy the rules to the extent of expulsion. It’s disgraceful, and I will tolerate it no longer!” Charlie’s mother shrieked, furious tears smudging the thick mascara that coated her eyelashes.

“You’ll be shipped off to Nealson Preparatory School in February, and if I hear so much as a single mention of your name not followed with overwhelming compliments, you can expect nasty, nasty consequences! Go pack your things, you’ll be staying with Aunt Barbara until the first of February finally arrives!” The rims of Charlie’s brown eyes stung with anger, frustration, and furthest down, sadness. He was diminished to nothing but an image-ruiner to his mother. The person who was supposed to love him, protect him, save him from the horrors of this hell called Earth.

Mr. Dalton silently observed the boisterous outburst from his expensive leather armchair across the den, a glass of strong, half-drunk whiskey in his palm. Charlie couldn’t bear to see their despicable faces any longer, and as his body felt no longer under his control, stomped up the stairs in a huff, rapidly swiping away the glassy tears spilling from his eyes. Thoughts of running away, escaping it all, flooded his unstable mind. ‘I get why you did it, Neil. I really do. But did you have to go so soon?’ 

But instead of lingering on the image of Neil any longer, he hastily threw his bare necessities into his suitcase, which was still covered in an array of Welton Academy stickers.

The grounds of Nealson were unsurprisingly well-maintained; it reminded him a lot of Welton. The impeccably manicured lawns, gleaming, icy blue lake, the gothic stone arches and pillars. It was eerily similar to Hellton, even down to the ice-cold blanket of snow coating the distant rolling hills. It’s beautiful, Charlie thought, surveying the slow sprinkling of snow, No, it’s hideous. 

Before he could fully vomit at the vile grounds of his new school, his parents fiercely shoved him inside the Headmaster’s dingy office, politely taking the vacant mahogany seats beside him. Charlie couldn’t be bothered to listen to a word his parents said with pearly white smiles, which were no doubt tooth-rotting, sugar-coated lies about the real reason he was expelled over a month prior. 

He knew that they couldn’t just be transparent and tell the Headmaster that he had socked the utterly vile Richard Cameron’s face in (rightfully so, in his opinion), or that he was a star member of the infamous Dead Poets Society, or that he had gone to the extreme lengths to stage a phone call from none other than God himself. It didn’t work like that. 

His mother’s cheeky, artificial voice sounded precisely the same as it always had: carefully rehearsed and slathered with naivety. Seemingly without hesitation, the catty woman could deflect any less-than-pleasant questions or insinuations about her “golden role-model” son, who’s admittedly “a little misguided at times”. 

The new headmaster seated across from him appeared to be around the same age as Mr. Nolan, which, as far as Charlie was concerned, was older than the Cretaceous period at least. His pale-as-a-ghost skin was wrinkled and paper-thin; his patchy, gelled side-swept hair was (very obviously) dyed a deep, midnight black, reminiscent of an off-brand Elvis. 

Charlie’s ears continued to mute the awkward conversation happening amongst him, his focus instead shifting around to the various awards and certificates lining the ivory walls. They all seemed so phony; ‘Best Headmaster- 1947-1959’, ‘Nealson Academy: Exceeds Expectations’. The Headmaster had even framed his high school superlative: ‘Voted Most Likely to Succeed’. What a pathetic-

In a swift blur, his parents rose from their seats, his mother clutching her magenta purse with matching pursed lips. Charlie was handed a hefty, stapled packet packed full of school rules and guidelines with a denture-toothed smile from Headmaster ‘Campbell’. This’d make some decent kindling, he thought as he yanked the packet from his clammy clutches, leafing through its pages with a smirk, this garbage’s almost laughable.

A syncopated rhythm of raps on the door, followed by a gravelly, ‘come in', presented his new dorm escort. His chauffeur just so happened to be you, the accomplished and universally admired student body president in the same grade as the newcomer. You were dutifully donning Nealson’s horrendous uniform: a crisp, white button-up accented with a blue and silver tie was topped with a depressing grey sweater vest. An equally loathsome pleated skirt concealed your thighs, and your ankles were shielded from the chilly February air with black crew socks. 

You extended your perfectly manicured, soft hand out to your brand-new peer with a yearbook-worthy smile, introducing, “Hi. Welcome to Nealson, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You swore you heard the brunette mutter something disrespectful under his breath, but nonetheless, he, rather unprofessionally, shook your hand with an eye roll. Things between the two of you were not starting off the way you hoped, but you were determined to make a good impression. The best impression possible.

“Charlie Dalton,” he replied with a mischievous smirk. The brunette standing in front of you reeked of cigarettes, and there was the slightest smell of cheap beer clinging to his clothes. His brown hair was messy, springing out in every direction, despite the water furiously combed through it. His eyes glinted with rebellion, a look so alluring yet dangerous.

“I’ll be showing you to your dorm, which you’ll sleep in for the remainder of the year.” Since Dalton was starting in February, he only had five months of studying before long-awaited senior year. Mr. Campbell waved the two of you off, and with that, you trekked towards the Boys’ wing, Dalton sauntering at your side. 

The walk through the main corridor was silent and awkward. You had tried to enchant him with fun facts about Nealson and its (extensively selective) history, much to his obvious boredom and dismay. His umber eyes glazed the walls, uninterested in the decor. His mind seemed to be elsewhere, but for all you knew, it could be on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. 

After a while of treading through the high-ceilinged corridors illuminated with fleeting pale rays of sunlight, the boy next to you made no attempt to hide him drawing designs up and down your body. 

“I’ve never been to a school with both boys and girls,” he drawled with a smirk. “Do things ever get exciting around here?”

You shook your head no while indiscreetly tugging down the hem of your skirt uncomfortably, and he said, “Do you think you’d maybe wanna spend the night with me in my dorm? Make sure I’m all settled in?”

Your whole body, from head to toe, froze. The audacity of this… creep! Your tongue poked, nearly stabbed, the back of your teeth, wanting to unleash a select few words to the disgusting Dalton beside you. But alas, if he were to tell anyone of your fiery wrath, you’d be demoted from class president faster than you could explain what really happened. It’s a corrupt system, sure, but even with the power that comes with such a title, there was no way to mend it.

Eventually, while you were wrapped up in the furies of your mind, Dalton revealed a small, autographed golf ball from his trousers pocket and began throwing it up and down above his head casually with every step. 

“Can you not?” you snapped at the chestnut-haired boy after he tossed the sphere up and down again in an arch. “Don’t wanna get in trouble on your first day, do you?”  

“You think this’ll get me in trouble? Have a little fun, it won’t kill you. I promise.” Dalton turned his gaze towards you, an annoyed but smug grin painted on his lips. He slowly tossed the golf ball to your hands, intending for you to catch it. However, the small ball evaded your grasp, instead bouncing around the hardwood floors below you, creating a series of loud, reverberating thunks.

“You were supposed to catch it, you know,” Dalton teased, nonchalantly watching you chase after the rogue orb. After it was finally safe in your clutches, you stomped over to the no-good newbie, irritated. 

“Nealson’s strict. They don’t let stuff like creating an awful lot of racket go unreprimanded.” You were seething; red-hot blood pumped through your veins. Dalton didn’t look anything but utterly amused.

“Wow, you’re just about one of the biggest suck-ups I’ve seen in a while.”

“A what?” you growled.

“A suck-up. A rule-following poster child of excellence? A bratty, know-it-all? Anything along those lines?” He sputtered insults so nonchalantly, it made your blood boil and eyes sting.

“You better watch it, Dalton. I don’t know who you think you are-”

“I’m the best thing that’s happened to this school, by the looks of it.” 

You had nothing left to say to this conceited shuck of a boy who really thought that he was all that and a side of fries. Well he wasn’t! Not in the slightest! And if his first day of classes wouldn’t drill it into him, you would.

The rest of the walk was pin-drop silent and tense. No more fun facts about Nealson escaped your downturned lips, just the light patting of his beat-up oxfords and your pristine mary-janes on the polished wood floor. The hallways seemed more depressing than usual, their framed portraits and condensated windows didn’t fill you with the motivation that you came to expect.

After finally arriving at the boys’ dormitories, you grumbled, “well, this is it. Have a swell life, Dalton.”

“Right back at ya, Y/L/N. Let’s hope this isn’t the last time we meet.” He gave you a cheeky wink before slamming the door in your face.

#dead poets society #Dead Poets Society (1989) #dead poetry #dead poets society x reader #dead poets society quotes #DPS #dps fanfiction #charlie dalton x reader #charlie dalton x y/n #charlie dalton

[salty-apples]

My first memory of a wedding dress is a little vague but I can still remember the feelings of awe and wonder it inspired. It was my cousin’s wedding and I was her flower girl. I was decked in a frothy, flowery pink dress and my cousin who seemed to fill the room with her height (I was tiny then and everything looked huge from my perspective) was in the biggest ballgown I had ever seen. Struck by the beauty and sheer mass of the dress, I began to look forward to the day I too, would get my ballgown moment (opinions have since changed- I am no longer a ballgown aficionado).

Since then, I have been on a quest to find the most beautiful wedding dresses in the world- and from my rather hyperbolic title, you can tell that today’s post is going to be a doozy.

Hello and welcome to another post where I fangirl over a topic.

Today, I’m going to be pulling together all the wedding dresses I’ve ever loved, from cinema to real life, you name it! This particular post is in two parts and I’ll be discussing why I love the dresses and why I think they make the top ten all-time list.

First up, wedding dresses from film.  

Carrie Bradshaw’s Vivienne Westwood dress from Sex and the City

The Sex and the City universe was a fashion trip. Although I never actually watched the series, I was glued to the products of Carrie Bradshaw’s wardrobe in the movies. The photoshoot for the magazine after her engagement was announced was amazing, giving us shot after shot of what happens when you get the all-star treatment. The dresses from the designers were works of art but none embodied the fashion forward spirit of our heroine than her Vivienne Westwood dress. To even begin to understand why the dress is so special, you’ve got to first look at its creator. Vivienne Westwood is known as the godmother of punk fashion, and to dip her nib in the wedding ink, you know that such a designer is going to do something extraordinary.

And extraordinary it was. Carrie’s dress is a ballgown, holding true to her princess-like status. But it is also sleek and modern, capturing the very essence of a woman who sees herself as the heart and soul of New York. It is beautiful and paired with the feather, it was stunning. This dress is an all-star entry, deserving of its own spot in an exhibition and I’m sure there a few people who would agree.

Mia Thermopolis-Renaldi’s dress in The Princess Diaries 2: A Royal Engagement

I don’t know how many people know this but I am not the biggest fan of lace, mostly because lace in all its forms disagrees with me.

However, I am willing to forget all that when I watch The Princess Diaries, especially the second movie. I love all the fashion moments, from Queen Clarisse’s dress to Mia’s 21st birthday party to their parade outfits. But the zenith of all moments was Mia, gliding down the aisle in the most regal wedding dress a fictional character has ever worn.

And you know what it had?

Lace, and a good amount of it.

Mia’s A-line beauty was built for a queen-in-waiting, the lace being a sign of that girlish, somewhat careless nature of hers and the smooth silk providing structure to the lace, strong support for a girl transitioning into a woman; a princess into a queen. For anyone who is looking for some sweet royal inspiration, look no further than Her Royal Majesty, Queen Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi, Queen of Genovia.

Lisa McDowell’s wedding dress in Coming to America

You know what’s wild about Coming to America?

It’s how they managed to pull off all that Euro-African headgear! It cracks me up every time.

Anyway, Coming to America doesn’t disappoint when it comes to delivering iconic lines and equally iconic fashion. I’m sure by now we’re familiar with the various interpretations of Imani’s court presentation dress during prom season but least talked about is the dress that ends it all- Lisa’s bubblegum pink delight of a wedding dress.

If you’ve read my colors post, my total abhorrence for the color pink is no surprise. That hatred melts away when I see Lisa’s dress. In form, it is the typical choice for an African bride- massive ballgown with a bustier and a towering tiara (the only thing it’s missing is the typical jacket- you know the one). But in color, it sets her apart. That’s not to say that there aren’t members of court who are donning the pink for the wedding. No, this is different. They are clad in soft gauzy pastels but she is the American woman who stole the heart of their prince and she is in a quintessentially American color. She is representing.

And in this thesis, I will discuss why everybody needs to vote Lisa McDowell for president…

Just kidding. Tl; dr: Lisa got the best dress a princess-to-be could ask for.

Toula Portcullis’ dress in My Big Fat Greek Wedding

For anyone who hasn’t heard of Toula Portcullis, she is the much-harangued heroine of My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Honestly, her pains are many especially after she gets engaged and has to balance the cares of planning an intercultural wedding while still managing to stay sane. She’s stressed and if not for her fiancé, she would have lost it completely.

That aside, the reason her dress is here is not because it is a great beauty (it’s not quite to my liking, really) but for the sentiment attached to it. Toula, as the last female to wed in her family, is gifted with the poufiest dress in history, a dress steeped in a mix of love, culture and good wishes. It is her family’s wish that she lives and lives well and with the way they handle they dress, the ball of fabric passing from happy hand to happy hand before it gets to the bride, their coos and prayers are following her. Even though she declares, “I am a snow beast” as she sees herself in the mirror, she’s still as her family wanted her to be- the most beautiful bride they had ever seen. Later on- after some reverse tailoring by the new couple- excessively frilly, silly and poufy becomes pretty and sweet.

And that is the end of my story.  

Tiana’s wedding dress from The Princess and the Frog

Tiana’s wedding dress is as a few of my friends from school used to say, special spesh. Besides being the first and only black princess in the Disney Princess franchise, she’s also the only one whose dress can boast of what it’s made of.

First, it is straight up juju- a feat I am yet to see any Nollywood movie accomplished. Tiana had the best dressmaker in the world and I know this because from what I know, any woman who is called ‘The Voodoo Queen of the Bayou’ has got to outrank another who goes by ‘Fairy Godmother’ (I’m sorry, Ms. Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Bo but it’s a fact).

Second, her dress is 100% natural- everything swamp material. Tiana marries (pun intended) fashion, function and today’s buzzword, ‘sustainability’ in what is perhaps, the grandest statement a new princess can make. It is green, regal and eco-friendly and who better to wear a dress that striking than a woman who understands how to live a no-waste life.

And next, wedding dresses from real life!

Grace Kelly’s wedding dress

No list about the best weeding dresses is complete without mentioning Grace Kelly.

Before there was Meghan Markle, there was the original American superstar to marry into royalty and her dress… Constructed by her studio’s seamstress, Helen Rose, Grace Kelly’s dress was built in such a way that it did not overwhelm her in the way that many wedding dresses can. The lampshade silhouette of the dress, though uncommon now, is quite unique, especially with the way it stands- with unnoticed support structure, of course. The lace is delicate, sculpted into style that is both modern and old. It fits its wearer perfectly and makes her quite the standout bride. The dress is timeless, an opinion I’m sure most bridal enthusiasts would agree with.

Beyoncé’s vow renewal gown by Galia Lahav

There’s something about Galia Lahav creations that just transport the viewer or wearer into another world. Dresses from the brilliant folks who make them are elegant, stylish and beautiful, and this particular dress – worn by none other than Beyoncé – takes the cake.

I’ve always loved seeing Galia Lahav dresses and this particular dress has been my favorite for a long time. When I saw that Beyoncé had nabbed it for vow renewal, I was practically jumping for joy. It is an elegantly crafted piece, with a structured bodice, statement sleeves, sections of skirt that stylishly expose the thigh, and both delicate lace and rococo-style detailing juxtaposed beside each other. It’s beautiful dress for a beautiful lady who makes beautiful music.

Was that too many beautifuls?

Angelina Jolie’s wedding dress

Just like Toula Portcullis’ dress, Angelina Jolie’s dress was steeped in sentiment. A simple enough dress, pleated at the bodice and attached to an A-line skirt, the main draw of the skirt was what was it’s back. Made by Versace, it was as simple as it was sweet.

Giving her children license to express themselves, the back of the wedding dress was transformed into a canvas for them. Each of her children contributed drawings, doodles and sketches which were then transferred from paper to fabric and transformed into high art. It was, in short, a beautiful tribute from loving children to their loving mother. I bet Maleficent would have loved it.

Kate Middleton’s Alexander McQueen wedding dress

Whenever a royal wedding rolls around, regular folk and royal watchers get buzzing. All royal families are well, royal and there is none more royal than the most famous one of all: The British Royal Family. So, when a future queen gets her wedding day, the best designers are entrusted with the task of making the royal bride look the part.

To execute this task, the Duchess of Cambridge turned to the house of Alexander McQueen. Head of house, Sarah Burton delivered in a big way, turning the volume on the phrase, ‘English Rose’ all the way up. Incorporating motifs of the English Commonwealth into a traditional princess look, lace and silk and delicate detailing were the order of the day. Her Royal Highness’ wedding dress beat all on her wedding and it has continued to be one of the top contenders on the list of the most defining wedding dresses of the last twenty years.

And this absolutely fantastic creation!

This dress looks like Christmas morning, with a side of ‘It’s my birthday!’ You can be sure that though my preferences aren’t with ball gowns, this is one dress I would not hesitate to put on if it were given to me!

And that folks, is the end of today’s post. I know everybody’s got their favorites and I can’t wait to hear yours.

This post marks the end of the ‘clearing out my drafts’ spree and I, for one, am glad that now, I can really begin to work on new stuff. A few pieces are currently cooking in my head and who knows, maybe a certain suspended series might get some new life! It’s the season of second chances and I am just brimming with joy as Christmas Day approaches.

Until next time, ciao!

Top 10 wedding dresses of all time My first memory of a wedding dress is a little vague but I can still remember the feelings of awe and wonder it inspired.

#art #cinema #December #design #Fashion #film #History #Life #literature #Past events #Princess #Royalty #Wedding #White

[herwoefulcountenance]

A note:

You guys voted sm ut for V-day you got it! This short smut was a challenge to write. I began working on it at the beginning of last month and it went through countless 360 changes and drafts as I always seemed to get stuck. Perhaps it is because of my lack of sm ut writing juice lol. S/O to the writing websites that aided in sparking up some sort of idea. I’m sorry if this isn’t up to par for you and if you imagine the characters differently. 

I'm not one to write much dialogue so if you were expecting that I'm sorry.

It's come to my attention that not all sex is magical so I tried to be a little realistic. Sex isn't perfect it has it's moments. 

Warning: Suggestive Language, Descriptive scenes, slight kink, oral, and penetration.

She swaggered down the hallway leading to Torquil’s office as if she were working a runway. She was fueled with confidence driven by desire. Her beautiful black suede DG military pumps accented with gold halted before Travers’ office door. She tugged at her plaid white skirt with ruffled hem and fixed her matching blazer along with the cuffs of her fitted white blouse. She entered within cautiously.

"It's nice to see you, Lestrange," her director greeted upon her entrance into his office "Mr. Travers," she returned

He shifted in his chair tilting his head to the side studying Leta for several seconds ere assigning her, her task for the time being. The man moved his jaw in advance to pointing at a stack of folders filled with papers with his pen. "Why don't you run those assignments by the Aurors?" he husked. She seized the heavy stack of folders in her arms eyeing him. She then exited his office and made her way to the Aurors area. She was frustrated at the event that Travers had suspended her sinful fantasy of her and Theseus. It had been some time since they'd done anything together. Work took up a majority of their time and the time remaining they had was spent resting. The tension had built up inside of her and she hungered for it.

"Your assignment Leon," she announced tilting her body to the side so that it'd allow for easy access to the stack of folders. She continued with her task feeling like she was at Hogwarts again when professors would sometimes make students hand back assignments to their classmates. She snaked her route to her lover's office which resided a ways away from the rest of the Aurors workspace. Typically she stayed away from him as she didn't want it to seem like their relationship affected her work ethic. But today was different she needed him.

Her hand laid on the slender sinuous golden doorknob as she opened the deep brown wooden door inviting herself into his office. There he was sat at his desk typing up a report. It was silent all that could be heard was the tapping of the keys on his typewriter. He paused his eyes meeting Leta who now stood before his desk. She set down the remaining assignments she had to hand out carelessly. "Leta now is not a good time I'm occupied with this report." he murmured. "You seem stressed" she purred walking to the large windows surrounding his office closing the blinds. She moved around to where he was seated. He took off his spectacles throwing them onto the desk and let out a sigh rubbing the bridge of his nose "It's just that this has been eating my time away and I just can't seem t-" she placed a finger against his lips. She bit her lower lip her brown eyes searching his face "you deserve a break, don't you think?" She ran her fingers lightly over his inner thigh generating shivers. He stood up from his chair his body on autopilot using his right hand to stroke her cheek his eyes peered into hers leading up to an intense kiss. He knew why she was there and he was up for it.

He guided her toward the wall using his body. He was caught up in kissing her that he wasn't aware of a small pile of books in their path. Leta stumbled over them pausing their kiss. Their lips just barely touching as they breathed each other's air. She let out a giggle. He pinned her wrists against the wall resuming what begun. He kissed her hard as if he were desperate. His tongue swirled around hers. She was breathless. He started rucking her shirt up following his splayed hand up across her stomach to her chest. He forced his knee between her thighs as his hand traveled further up wrapping around her neck. His lips brushed against her ear, "How naughty of you Leta to make me want you right here, right now." Theseus growled. He pressed his knee against her mound resulting in her skirt hitching up. Her hips rolled in an endeavor to please herself using his knee. She whimpered at him removing his knee. He wanted her to be patient in the end a glorious reward would come. "Stop teasing me," she whispered beggingly. All Theseus could do was a smirk and let out a chuckle. He shook his head side to side his thumb swiping over his lips as if contemplating. "Patience." he just answered. Theseus wanted more than anything to be buried deep inside her it was apparent. His bulge arose leaving an imprint on his pleated trousers but, he was patient, unlike his lover.

He pulled her further out from the wall grasping her chin and tilting it up. He felt the aura of lust intensely emanating from her. The moment their gaze met, her eyes blazed. Leta felt hazy. His voice was stern "I want you to get on your knees." She did so quickly her knees sinking into the hard floor. It was an unpleasant feeling and one sure to leave her knees red. Her fingertips pinched the silver zipper pulling it downwards. She removed his trousers they now laid on the ground around his ankles. Momentarily his underwear joined along. His full member sprung out. She dipped her tongue into the slit flicking the precum into her mouth. Cupping his balls tenderly she pursed her lips together allowing for a trail of saliva to flow upon his shaft. Her left hand kneaded at them slowly as her right hand wrapped around the wet shaft and started to spread the saliva. Her right hand moved up and down in a twisting-like motion. She slid the head of his member into her mouth her cheeks hollowing. Soon it became engulfed in wet heat. She gave him a sloppy blow-job the suction and pressure causing her cheeks to hollow further. Her eyes shifted upwards solely to be faced with Theseus peering down at her in anticipation. His breathing was ragged his fingers combing through her waves becoming entangled in the sea of silk. She swallowed around his slick member. Occasionally it would escape her lips. A marginal grunt reverberated from the back of his throat. He removed her hands in advance to thrusting his member in and out of her mouth. "I'm gonna fuck that pretty little mouth of yours," he crooned his grip on her head was firm. In result, she choked tears flowing down her flushing cheeks. He slowly pulled out of her finishing in her mouth. She inhaled sharply heart pounding her reddened lips quivered. He caressed her hot cheek with the back of his hand "I'm sorry Leta you just make a man lose control."

Helping her up from the floor he clumsily transported her to his cluttered desk setting her on the end. He dragged her skirt off his fingers then making their way to the band of both her stockings and panties. He pulled them off as well ripping them in the process. Theseus kneeled down his optics examining her pot oozing with nectar. Both the index finger and the middle finger started to stroke the swollen slit. She was considerably excited. She bit her lips while supporting her upper body and observed him. Occasionally he would part her swollen labia and catch a flash of fleshy pink. He knew that the best way to please his lover was by stimulating her sensitive clit. He parted his lips and began to flick his tongue against her button. Her legs trembled instantly each time his tongue came into contact. She arched her hips begging for more. "Oh God, fuck yes," she cried out. Her body was scorching specifically her lower region. Blood roared in her ears her mind clouded with ecstasy. Continuing with his tongue, he worked his fingers inside of her, her juices creating squelching noises. A strangled noise left the back of her throat as she jerked her hips. It felt like electricity was running through her body furthermore it was overwhelming.

"Theseus!" she gasped "Mmm?" he returned "If you don't stop I'm going to," she pleaded "Is that a bad thing?" he teased.

Her entrance pulsated as fire pooled low in her abdomen. She went limp, panting heavily. He smiles proudly of himself "I didn't think of you to be a squirter." It was unfortunate that only the man gained more pleasure from sex compared to the woman but, he had done his job.

He forced her up in advance to turn her around. She was now bent over his desk her chest creasing the papers that lay. His member sunk into her pussy adrenaline rushing in his veins. Theseus groaned and Leta's skin prickled, she was elated to have him inside of her. "You have no clue as to how bad I wanted this," she cooed. He pulled her hair back off of her sweaty face "I think I do," he rasped. Setting pace his hips slammed into her. She melted at his cock pounding her vagina. Theseus was focused, his breathing was ragged and heavy. His hands held onto the curves of her waist. He had noticed that nowhere on her body was a straight line. She was intricate unlike him. "Fuck," he whispered frustrated in the result of losing his rhythm as his cock slipped out. Despite the slip-up, he got back into the game. Every thrust felt like crashing waves. There was no straight in and out of her entrance he moved side to side frenetically. She tightened around him wet noises coming from her. "Oh God Theseus I've missed this," she mewled "all during my workday I was thinking about doing this." She was collapsing onto the desk moaning quietly. They couldn't risk getting caught. Her rump rippled with every thrust going in "I want to fill you up with my cum Leta," he huffed. "Cum in me," she cried out her slender fingers gripping the sides of his desk for dear life as he pulled on her hair. Her breath hitched in harmony with his groaning as he neared climax. His strokes became sloppy yet passionate. She felt his cock pulsing inside of her as cum flowed out of his member. It felt like a spring coiling tightly and then being released to him "Oh fuck yes, Leta" he moaned pulling his member out just in time to allow some of his semen to ooze out of her entrance. He rubbed her left asscheek in advance to giving it a smack.

She turned around with a smile on her face regulating her breathing, breathless from their encounter "Thank you" she breathed "No, thank you" he returned sonorously winking at her. She cupped his cheeks as their kisses rolled over each other.

"Leta Lestrange please report to Torquil Travers's office immediately." Her director didn't sound happy over the intercom. She realized that an hour had passed since entering Theseus's office and she hadn't completed her task. "You best get going" he urged helping his lover throw on her clothes. She noticed her stockings were ripped "I can't go like this!" she was frantic. Her fiance grabbed his wand moving his wrist lightly "Reparo" he commanded mending the rips in her stockings. She grabbed the stack of assignments and cracked open the office door peering out into the hall as she didn't want anyone to see her coming from Theseus's office. It would arouse suspicion within her fellow peers as she was missing for an hour. The coast was clear she hurriedly paced to Travers' office.  She swung open his door and threw herself into the room "you needed me?" she questioned

"There you are, Miss. Lestrange, I see you still haven't completed your task and you were out of everyone's sight for an hour," he muttered clenching his fist. Torquil took note of her disheveled appearance and the musky smell of her sweat "Care to tell me what happened" he growled. Leta gulped holding the remaining assignment folders close to her chest "I had a run in sir." He sat back in his chair and scoffed "A run in? how convenient." he clasped his hands together "Listen, don't embarrass me and don't embarrass yourself Lestrange understood?" he gritted his teeth awaiting her reply. She inhaled and exhaled deeply "Yes Mr. Travers."

#leta x theseus #leta lestrange #the crimes of grindlewald spoilers #fantastic beats and where to find them #theseus scamander #theseus x leta #crappy story #the crimes of grindelwald #valentines