T Shirt Buckles Novels & Stories

“What man wears pink?” “A man whose girlfriend buys it for him. Or is sponsored.” I get up and lean against the closet door. It’s big enough to fit a small car. Backlit shelves, cedar panels, mirrors that make everything look ten percent more expensive. Rows of jeans folded with geometric precision. Racks of button-ups, hoodies, jackets, all of them sharp-lined and brand-labeled. Most are Calvin Klein. His backer. Also mine. Jackson is into comfort, not branding. He wears Mack Weldon’s AIRKNITx and Bauer — not by sponsorship, by choice. He’s not big on freebies that come with legislations.

She turned her closet inside out to find the right outfit for the occasion. Jan was on the other side of the video call rolling her eyes dozens of times, shaking her head, telling her over and over again that the oversized white Tee-Shirt she wanted to wear was not a good choice. But she really wanted to wear it. It was her favorite. It was Lee's that she had traded with her favorite bucket hat. "No ... you look like you're wearing your brother's shirt that's too big for you ... just wear that knitted crop sweater over your outfit, the one with mixed color," she knew literally everything Hazel had in her closet.

I added, just to appease them. They seemed to relax at this point. My fingers traced over the clothes. A bright turquoise spaghetti strap shirt caught my eye. It was next to a deep, rich burgundy fishnet long sleeve top that had flecks of silver in it. There was also a pair of Tripp pants with the same silvery burgundy color in a soft velvety fabric along the seams of the pants and holding the chains into place that crisscrossed at the butt. Another two chains attached over the pockets with three sets of links on them. Silk sent a feeling of approval through me. My eyes then landed on a pink pushup bra covered with lace and matching panties. I immediately turned the color of a tomato. Tanz l

The men came over and passed me the dress, "Change behind the screen. Don't keep his Highness waiting." The other man paused, "Oh! Don't forget to put this underneath it too." He tossed me what looked like a bunch of thin leather straps and buckles in pastel pink. I didn't know what to do with it and he rolled his eyes and sighed, "Unbuckle at these two points and fasten it around your thighs and hips. Haven't you seen a thigh harness before?" "Sorry, it's been a while," I lied. What else was I going to do?

I winked at them as I ran off to go select their clothes, while they followed behind me, I came across a Gucci couple t-shirt and I could picture Dante and Dell in it and I could swear they are going to look so cute so I got two of the shirt immediately “Princess, why same shirt?” Dell asked and I smiled “It's a couples t-shirt for you two” “Huh? We are not wearing that right?” He turned to Dante “Uhhhhh, it's not bad” Dante stuttered coming to my side, “You…….” Dell pointed accusing fingers at Dante

I have no clue where we are going but the girls insist that what I'm wearing can be worn for many different activities and I trust them. I've gone with a long sleeve wine printed floral pleat dress and added a black belt to pull the dress in at my waist, the long sleeves work well for me as I don't need to worry about wearing a jacket. I've paired my outfit with my black ted baker heeled boots and a small black clutch bag to keep my essentials in.

Her eyes met Derek's, who was already sitted at the table. He wore a long tunic that was made of a thick, deep blue wool, embroidered with silver threads along the edges of the sleeves and the hemline. The tunic was belted with a brown leather belt, which had a silver buckle that was intricately designed with the image of a wolf. Underneath the tunic, he wore a simple white shirt, with a wide collar that extended over his shoulders. The collar was embroidered with a pattern of small silver wolves, and it added a touch of elegance to his outfit.

My fingers covered my freshly painted lips to stifle a gasp. I would recognize that belt over any of Nox's assortment. What caught my attention was the buckle—very distinctive silver with a swirl. It was the same one I'd found in his closet in Rye, the one he'd told me to use, and the one he'd told me to bring back to the city.

A shiver passed over him, and without thinking it through he pulled his coat tight around him, his arms pressing into his stomach in a comforting way. He glanced in the mirror by the door on his way out, and smiled at his reflection. Bo, despite the morning, was well put together, his socks matched, and his shoes, and he was wearing his nicer pair of jeans. The long sleeve turtle neck that he wore was soft to the touch and felt like a comfort layer on his body, Bo also wore one of Oscar’s favorite shirts of his, a long sleeve butterfly shirt that he got at some thrift store for five dollars. The coat was grey, and his favorite. Bo couldn’t remember where he had gotten it, but it was the one

What am I supposed to do with a statement like that when we’re not somewhere I can strip and offer him my body? Kir looks at me. Waiting patiently for me to decide whether we have everything we need. There’s one thing missing. I look around the store. My eyes snag on a display rack near the door. It’s a simple, tiered velvet stand holding collars. I don't look at the spiked ones, or the thin, decorative jewelry ones. I walk over and pick up a heavy, two-inch-thick band of matte black leather. There’s a sturdy silver buckle at the back and a single, thick O-ring bolted dead center in the front. No fancy stitching. No designs. It’s brutally simple and absolutely perfect.