Apocalypse Outfit Female Novels & Stories

"That peach thing says, 'Hi, I'm sweet and romantic and would never stab you in your sleep.' The leather one says, 'I might choke you, but you'll like it.'" "It's a date, not a cage fight," Tasha replied, tugging her satin robe tighter. Debby flung her legs up dramatically and hurried toward the closet. She took out the outfit that she thought Tasha should wear. It could only be described as post-apocalyptic dominatrix couture. It was sleek black leather, had silver buckles, and sheer mesh in places Tasha didn't even know you could legally expose. "Imagine his face when you walk out dressed in this," Debby said, doing jazz hands.

She let him take the bag from her shoulder. He crouched, opened it, and began rearranging the contents with efficient hands. Ammunition lower. Medical roll to the outer pocket. Food tucked tighter. He did not ask permission because he knew she would stop him if she wanted him to. That small certainty warmed her more than the coffee. “You know,” she said, “some people might consider rifling through a woman’s bag intimate.” Rowan glanced up. “Some people pack badly.” “I survived the apocalypse twice with my terrible packing.”

she demanded. “Tell me who you are,” Rex said in a threatening tone as he backed up a few feet. Now that he thought about it, her clothes weren’t common clothes worn by humans who’d survived the apocalypse and were struggling to survive. They also weren’t anything like the clothes he’d seen on Baelil and his people. She wore a one piece jumpsuit that was made from a fabric that looked almost like rubber and her hair was held away from her face with a band that looked to be made of copper covering most of her forehead. He hastily raised his bow and loaded an arrow into it.

She said out loud. Demon. There’s your first clue. Anything labeled that is evil, especially when they are planning the damn apocalypse. Than doesn’t that make you evil too? “Tssk. NO! I am not.” Ally exlamed. I am not evil and I am not staying here! She found her shoes by the bed and shoved her feet in to them. Briskly she made her way to the door threw it open and ran right into what she could only think of as a body guard.

I turned around, curious to see who had arrived, and my heart skipped a beat as I saw a shadowy figure emerging from the crowd. As the figure stepped into the light, I felt like I had been punched in the gut. It was Sophia, standing tall and confident in a stunning black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. The dress was made of a sleek, shiny material that caught the light, and it was cut low in the front, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage.

Just like the day she walked out of the bathroom after the devastation she caused in her room her only words were. “Help me Zoey, I need to look fit to rule and smite.” The only clothes she had were the dresses my cousin had gifted her in her backpack tucked under the bed. She slipped on the thin teal hemp dress. It was modeled in a greeceian goddess style that had a paneled skirt that made two slits up to the tops of her tan thighs a corded belt at her waist and trailing wisps of fabric hung down her shoulders.

They stopped the hug hearing the door open. “Sybil are you in here?” They looked over and saw Omniel standing there. She was wearing her black Xa-crit. It was a bit different than the adults. Hers more like a dress, the adult females would be wearing a wrap around their chest that tied in the back and was strapless. Then a kind of skirt with the sheer fabric, it wrapped around their hips tying on the side with a thin strap of fabric. The skirt for the adults came to their knees and had a lot of tendrils. It showed their bodies very well. The men would wear very loose pants, the material was designed to rip or come off easily when they shifted for the run.

What I have to do. Now my body is dressed in a transparent white dress. It covers my breasts and my sex, but the high slits on the sides leave my thighs exposed all the way to my hips. Also, the thin, sheer fabric does little to hide my nakedness. Even in the dim candlelight, the color of my nipples bleeds through the thin fabric. The dress has been cobbled together from various antique garments dating back to before the Cataclysm - wedding dresses, by the looks of it.

They brought the racks of clothes in making my jaw drop how can Apollo even ask a store to bring all the best dresses and shoes just for a few girls? We all begin to fit clothes, I ended up choosing a black and red of the shoulder dress with a belt in the middle to draw the attention away from my stomach. The black was floor length while the red came over almost like a cape of some sort. I decided to wear black pumps and a red and black mask. The rest of the girls either got long black dresses or short black dresses. Once we got our outfits we went up to shower and finished. Apollo informed us to meet him at the ball and here all the girls are on our way in his limo.

The impact sent a wave of blistering heat through the room; the nearest tapestries combusted, blooming into black flame before shrivelling into cinders mid-air. Adelaide screamed. A small, terrified, wounded sound that cut through the smoke and fury like a fragile thread, and Apollo surged into the room in a blur of heat and claws. She was in the far corner. Curled against the wall. Breathing in sharp, panicked gasps. Eyes wide as shattered glass. And wearing— He froze. A dress. Not the fur she clutched. Not anything he had left her with. A dark fabric. Thick. Functional. Given to her. It clung to her like night carved into shape, the seams too precise, the fit too exact to be an accident or