#buy double bed sheet set

[sparshjaipur]

How the Right Comforter Can Improve Sleep Quality and Overall Health

A good night's sleep is a requirement for a healthy life and living. It influences our mood, productivity, and even our health. A few key elements which can help to enhance the quality of sleep include bedding setup. The most crucial elements within bedding are comforters and quilts. Comforters can make all the difference for good sleep; besides adding warmth, they can ensure better sleep. Let's find out how a correct choice can make a difference in your sleep quality and your overall health.

Understanding Comforters and Quilts

Understanding the Difference Between Quilt and Comforter Before discussing the benefits of comforters, let us first know the difference between quilt and comforter. A comforter is generally a thick quilted blanket which is filled with synthetic fibres or down feathers. This type of bed quilt provides essential warmth and comfort without being heavy. In contrast, a quilt has various layers and is typically decorated on top; the filling is usually light.

However, the choice between comforters and quilts depends on personal preference. Comforters are preferred because they are warm and soft, while quilts are lighter and do not weigh too much on a person who does not want to feel too much heat.

Comforters are created to regulate your body temperature at night. You can sleep comfortably in a very cold room without having to use extra blankets if the comforter is thick. That consistent warmth enables the body to relax, resulting in a sounder sleep. Additionally, sleeping in warm conditions means that if you have a light comforter, you will not feel too warm.

Furthermore, comforters assist in maintaining a stable sleep environment. If your body stays at an ideal temperature through the night, then it is a deeper sleep. So, the comforter is not just warmth but also making the right conditions for restorative rest.

How Comforters Impact Overall Health?

Good sleep is significantly related to health. A well-rested body has a higher immune system, increased activity of the brain, and an excellent mood. An appropriate comforter will ensure that your sleep is not interrupted by discomfort brought about by temperature changes. If the body is at the correct temperature during the night, then the body can sleep faster and sleep for longer hours.

Additionally, good sleep helps one's physical health. It promotes muscle recovery, reduces stress, and strengthens the heart. Therefore, investing in a comfortable comforter not only enhances your sleep but also your long-term health.

Factors to Consider When Choosing the Right Comforter

A comforter is not chosen based on one factor; it is several factors. One of the key factors is material. Cotton is one of the most breathable fabrics and is excellent for all seasons. Furthermore, a cotton bed sheet double bed or cotton bed sheet single bed would be great in combination with comforters. They are soft and breathable and help regulate the body temperature while sleeping.

The weight and fill of the comforter are also important. If you prefer a light, breathable option, then you would choose a comforter with a lower fill power. However, if you like a heavier blanket for warmth, go for a comforter with a higher fill power.

Choosing the Right Bedding for All-Season Comfort

Aside from comforters, the proper sets of bed sheets play an integral role in good sleep. Both cotton bedsheet double bed and cotton bed sheet single bed variations are fantastic means of creating breathability while being gentle upon the body with which one may sleep on the bed. Water absorption, allowing the control over body temperature overnight, prevents extreme overheating from summer conditions, and equally controls excessive warming with winter conditions.

However, soft, breathable sheets are also a comforter addition that can make a difference in sleep quality. Bedding selection also plays a role in preventing sweat and odour buildup, which means a cleaner and more comfortable sleeping environment.

Conclusion

Finally, a comforter will enhance quality sleep and even your health as a whole. Comforters facilitate temperature regulation that allows you to sleep throughout the night. Quilts will further improve comfort and make you avoid interruptions from sleeping. It means when purchasing bedding, get a comforter or quilt based on your preferences. With the right bedding, you’ll wake up refreshed and ready to face the day ahead.

[tranceindia123]

A guide to select best furnishing for your home

Your home is more than just a shelter. It's your haven, telling your personal story, and the stage on which life puts on its symphony. For Trance Home Linen, the furnishing you carefully choose becomes the instrument that orchestrates the mood, functionality, and aesthetics of every space. Today, the people dwelling in their homes treat furnishings as part of their statement, and therefore they come up with the ultimate collection, which states a lot about their tastes and aspirations. It requires attention to detail and an appreciation for quality craftsmanship, and these elements converge to create a whole.Scale and proportion: Imagine an ordinary living room set with a gigantic sofa. Measure your space thoughtfully and choose furnishing items that fit well in the flow. Add to the majestic look with the Lightweight Cotton Voile Curtains (Clay Red). Form and Function: Forget your style quotient for the moment, but functionality is the key. Will the Diwan set you are going to love become a challenge while navigating through the house every day?

[foldingfittedsheets]

Mattresses, unbeknownst to many, are a lot like cars. Every year new ones roll out, they’re always tweaking and innovating and you’ll never find the same one you loved decades ago when buying a new one.

Where I sold mattresses had a three month return or exchange program for this reason. New beds take a while to break in, and they’re a big expense. Your body is used to the old one. So we made sure people were loving it. If a bed got returned we’d take it back, sanitize and clean it, then sell it again on clearance.

To sell these we always had to disclose what clearance meant to customers, and they had to sign that they knew what they were getting. (FYI, not every company is as… forthright about the used bed situation)

In clearance we had beds that were floor models, we had returns, and more rarely we had old models whose line had been discontinued. These clearance beds were always final sale, so a bed could only be sold twice.

Now, the manager at the store I was working at had realized a vital fact. Clearance beds in the warehouse didn’t sell, especially old models that salespeople weren’t familiar with. And even more especially in odd sizes, like twin extra longs. So he set up a split king on the showroom floor to exhibit clearance beds, pulling all those forgotten twin extra longs out onto the showroom.

Almost all of these were brand new discontinued models. Beds I’d never learned in training were exhumed to be displayed. The manufacturers had moved on to new lines and they’d been left behind. Why would he take such in interest in selling old stock, you might wonder? Because we made double commission on the sales margin of clearance beds, and if we’d had a bed long enough they dropped the cost in the system so it was a fucking cash cow to sell these. Even with huge discounts the commissions were wonderful so it was a win win.

When I got started I was jazzed about this program, I was so on board to sell weird old brand new beds and make a ton of money. I had a wonderful older couple come in, looking for a split king adjustable set. This was a white whale sale.

The current clearance models on the floor were a latex mattress that was brand new despite being of an age to start first grade, and a tempurpedic floor model. The couple laid down and it was like magic. They each loved the bed they’d laid down on. They wanted to buy the whole shebang.

I. Was. Thrilled. I told them about the clearance program and what that meant, and they weren’t bothered in the least. I wrote up the sale then dashed into the back, fizzing with excitement to tell my manager what I’d done.

“You sold the death bed?!” He asked in delight.

I pulled up short, my smile freezing in place. “What…?”

“Didn’t you check the notes?”

I hesitated for a long beat then slowly shook my head. You see, dear reader, all beds had a personal history. Every clearance bed had logs written up by the person who took the return, as well as warehouse crew after sanitizing. It helped us know what to expect when selling them. “Wasn’t it just a floor model? You said it was a floor model…”

He slowly shook his head. I checked the notes.

It turned out, it had been sold as a floor model. The first time. But the company had made an exception and taken it back as a return two months later. Why? Because it’s owner had passed away.

I stared at the computer in horror and my manager shrugged. “They signed the clearance form. Technically it was a floor model.”

“We know for a fact that a man died in that bed!”

“What they don’t know can’t haunt them,” he said philosophically.

The man came back a week later for more sheets, utterly delighted to tell me how well they were sleeping. I clamped my teeth down around the secret of the deathbed, choosing to let them love their new bed without the stigma. Only one person would be haunted by that deathbed, and it was me.

[vaahomedecor]

https://vaahomedecor.com/product-category/bed-linen/bedsheets/

Buy Single & Double Bedsheets Set Online At Best Prices

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[retrosabers]

𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐝.

FICMAS DAY 5 - UNWRAPPING

A RETROSABERS X PANDAPETALS DOUBLE FEATURE

old man logan x fem!reader

summary: logan didn’t believe in exchanging christmas presents. so, you offer him something you know he can’t refuse. a night where’s he’s free to have you all to himself.

contains: 18+ content below the cut. MINORS DNI. making out, some dry humping if you squint, oral (fem receiving), implied age gap, a dash of angst, swearing

word count: 2.6k

a/n: you thought i’d let a whole season pass without a little taste of some festive smut? absolutely hilarious. this is my first time writing for old man logan, and i think i did pretty alright considering i have yet to watch the movie (i’m terrified of the pain it will bring)

any feedback is always greatly appreciated!

also, don’t be confused by the fact that this says day 5 when i still haven’t posted day 4, i’m writing these bad boys out of order

and finally, a huge shoutout & thanks to the wildly talented @pandapetals for agreeing to do a little collaboration! please go check out her blog and all of her amazing work! <3

FIND HER PART HERE

!! divider by @estrelinha-s !!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

“are you sure your eyes are closed?”

logan grunts. “they’re closed, darlin’. promise.”

he’s been sitting here for almost fifteen minutes now, waiting for you to bring out this so-called “surprise.” from the ambient lighting and freshly washed bed sheets, the man thinks he’s got a general idea of what it is, but you’ve been fiddling in the bathroom too long for him to be certain.

still, he appeases you, and waits patiently at the foot of your bed. even if it’s a little bit uncomfortable on his knees.

meanwhile you’re fussing over every little detail of your appearance in the groggy bathroom mirror.

this was your solution to getting around logan’s “i don’t need anything for christmas” rule. you always begrudgingly abided by it, save for the box of cigars that always mysteriously turnt up in his nightstand on christmas eve. you knew he could never turn it down, no matter how much he tried.

logan could never say no to a smoke break with a nice pack of cubans. and he most certainly couldn’t say no to you.

that's how you decided upon this whole scheme. dolling yourself up and donning a new set of lingerie themed to the occasion, knowing logan had no leg to stand on. because technically, you didn’t buy anything for him. you bought this for you. he just so happened to be the person who was going to help take it off.

or rip it off, knowing your man’s track record of impatience and eagerness.

you share the exact same sentiment, though your tendency to be anile overpowers all else. you know it doesn’t matter if you have a hair or two out of place, or if your lips are slightly over lined. perfection never mattered to logan, but it still didn’t stop you from doing everything in your power to be pretty damn close to it tonight.

even if it meant making him wait a few extra minutes.

you pay your reflection one final glance before sauntering out into the bedroom.

he smells you before he hears you.

your scent wafting into the room captures his attention more than anything else. logan’s senses may not be as keen as they once were, but the fragrance of you was something utterly unmistakable. a sweet yet sultry aroma that he ached to have on his skin, his clothes, anywhere, to keep him grounded. to remind himself that you were real and you were his. it only adds to the anticipation building inside, the mere seconds he has to wait dragging on like hours in his mind.

a wave of lust overtakes you as logan comes into view. somehow just the sight of him is enough to send a bout of arousal down to your core.

that crisp white dress shirt he always wears is unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled up to reveal those chiseled forearms you love to have wrapped around you. the soft glow of the lamp on the bedside table illuminates the weathered curves of his face so beautifully. a contrast to the ruggedness of his position; legs lazily spread wide and long, thick fingers tapping mindlessly against his thigh.

the picture of a real man. and he’s all yours for the taking.

the sound of your footsteps padding against the floor grows louder. obediently, logan’s eyes stay shut, despite the fact that the other aroma you carry is hot and heavy in his nostrils. his upper lip twitches with a knowing smirk.

so this is exactly what he had in mind.

on instinct, his thighs spread even further when he senses your approach, hands itching to find their place on you somehow. when your own stay glued to your sides, he takes that as his cue to do the same.

logan really hates to admit it, but there’s something about this little bit of mystery that’s got him going before you’ve even begun.

“you ready?” your voice comes out breathy, and if logan didn’t know any better he’d think you’re nervous. and truth be told, you were. not that logan wouldn’t get his kicks, you were certain of that. more so that you’d be unable to walk come tomorrow morning.

though neither of you would consider it a bad thing

“yes ma’am,” he grumbles in response, knowing exactly the effect it has on you. the cockiness on his face is inevitable when he hears your breath hitch.

tease. if that’s how he wants to play, you’re in for a long night.

with a quiet sigh, you splay your fingers over the expanse of his broad shoulders. the man takes it as permission, calloused palms wrapping around your calves and not daring to travel any further. he knows he’ll lose any remaining self control if he gets so much as an inch closer to the apex of your thighs.

“okay.” you murmur. “you can open your eyes.”

slowly, those dark irises begin to drink you in. his grip on you tightens as soon as he gets the whole picture, a visible tent forming in his dress slacks almost immediately.

logan thought you were the most beautiful women he’s ever seen under any conditions. didn’t matter if you were sick, if you were bare faced, none of that changed how otherworldly you looked in his eyes. but nothing, and i mean nothing, compared to the sight of you before him right now.

you look like something out of a dream. hair styled in a way that drives him particularly crazy, makeup done to highlight your features so elegantly in the dim light. the best, and quite possibly logan’s favorite part, however, is that your lips are painted a shade of red to perfectly match the ensemble adorning your body. it sparks a slideshow of rather lewd images in his brain, wanting the color scattered across his cheek, his chest, his cock. anywhere you’re willing to brand him.

he’s committed every inch of you to memory by now. countless nights of exploring, mapping out your curves with hand and tongue. and still, everytime he sees you like this, practically offering yourself on a silver platter, he can’t help but stare back as though this is the very first time.

especially when that crimson silk is accentuating your figure so nicely.

“do you like it?” you ask coyly, bottom lip tucked between your teeth like you’re not fully aware of the power you have over him.

logan scoffs out a laugh, dragging his hands higher and higher until they tug at your hips, pulling you to straddle his lap in one swift motion. you squeak at the sudden display of strength, forgetting that despite his age, he was still infinitely stronger than any man you’ve ever met.

even beneath the layers of fabric between you, the sheer size of him was impossible to ignore. fuck, and he wasn’t even fully hard. you bite back a moan at the outline of his length pressed between your legs.

“that answer your question?” he quips back lowly, smirking smugly.

you hum in content, pressing your hands further into his shoulders as you experimentally grind your hips. the pair of you preen at the contact, desperate for any form of relief after being pent up and waiting.

“careful,” logan grits out in warning. “gonna cum in my pants like a fuckin’ teenager if you keep that up.”

you tsk in response, cocking your head with faux concern. “can’t have that, now can we?”

logan shakes his head at your antics, eyes wandering back over your body once more. before tonight, his favorite set of lingerie you owned was a black lacy number. simple and classic. but the more time he spends inspecting what’s currently adorning your frame, the more he thinks that red might be his new favorite color.

something warm spills over him when he glances at your chest again. something different than what he normally experiences every time he catches a glimpse of your cleavage, anyways.

“is that a bow?” he questions, a little bit amused.

you let out a soft giggle, nodding in reply.

“wanted you to be able to unwrap your present.”

you can count the amount of times logan has laughed, really truly laughed, on one hand. and as much as it sounds like music to your ears, you’re rather confused as to why he’s laughing right now.

“what’s so funny?” you huff, brows knit together and bottom lip jutted in a near pout.

logan averts your inquiry, burying his face in your neck so you can’t see him grinning like an idiot. instead, he busies himself with dragging his lips up and down the column of your throat, reveling in the breathy moans spilling from your lips with each and every press against your skin.

from the moment you met logan howlett, you fantasized about that salt and pepper beard. longed to feel the delicious sting of scruff against every part of you. as addicting as it is, the sensation isn’t enough to keep you completely distracted.

“logan,” you whine, titling your head back to grant him more access. “m’serious.”

he doesn’t halt his ministrations, too consumed with making sure your neck is painted every shade of lavender under the sun. he only stops when you rake your fingers in his hair and physically pull him off, much to both your dismays.

you give him a look. that pursed lips, narrow eyed “what aren’t you saying to me” look that signals he’s going to have to fess up to whatever’s on his mind, or else the evening would be coming to an end right here and now. from the way he’s about to burst through the zipper on his dress slacks, you know he’s not considering weighing options.

logan sighs heavily. if you didn’t know all the variations of the sound, you’d think he was upset with you. but that was far from how the older man felt. he begins to examine your face, observing everything from the slopes of your bone structure, to the color of your irises. he studies your features like an artisan in a gallery, content on not missing a single detail.

after a moment, the corners of his mouth turn up a hair. eyes almost dopey; filled with a lovesickness he never thought could be possible.

“you’re somethin’ else, y’know that?” he murmurs into the air, rough fingertips tracing back and forth across your spine.

you speak the language of logan fluently, knowing exactly what the underlying message of his words were. in reality, he was saying, “what did i do in this life to deserve you? will you ever know how much i love you? i hope you’ll be mine for as long as you’ll have me.”

suddenly his round of laughter from before rings brighter in your ears.

instead of saying another word, you guide his face to yours, connecting your lips in a silent understanding.

logan always kisses you like a man starved, devouring you whole as though every kiss may be the last. there was nothing tame, or tender about the man they once called the wolverine, but you managed to slip between the cracks of his stony disposition, and bring forth all the parts of himself he swore he lost decades ago.

your hands encircle around the back of his neck, logan’s squeezing at the flesh of your hips. he pulls you impossibly closer, pressing the swell of your chest against his own. the feeling of your nipples pebbling through velvet fabric reminds him of the true nature of your current situation.

tonight was for him. his pleasure, his enjoyment. he knew you’d be heavily dissatisfied if he didn’t indulge in what you were offering.

and what kind of man would logan be, if he disappointed his sweet girl?

you’re not expecting him to be so gentle when he turns and flips you over, mouth never once leaving yours. a large hand spread across your back as he lowers you down onto the mattress with a care reserved for you and only you. a fact that adds to your current state of arousal. your legs open like second nature, and logan slots himself between them as though that’s where he was always meant to be.

the whine that leaves you when he pulls away would be embarrassing if it weren’t for the hunger in his stare. those normally hazel pupils now a brownish black that overshadowed bright white. he sits back on his haunches, glazing over your pretty little lingerie with a newfound appreciation.

he reaches to toy with the end of the bow tied snugly between your breasts, a teasing invitation that he graciously accepts.

at a tantalizing pace, he begins to unwrap his present, watching with lustful eyes as more and more skin becomes exposed. you arch your back the slightest bit to get the job done faster, the shoe of impatience now snug on your foot instead of his.

normally, logan would scold, spit something about “being a good girl and waiting.” but he’s just as riled up and eager as you are, and he gives the velvet one final tug that has your breasts springing free.

god you were absolute perfection.

he can’t resist running a thumb over your erect nipples, reveling in the way you squirm over such a small touch. your color coated lips swollen and shiny from his kisses. body already relaxed and pliant, willing to do whatever he so pleases.

a few minutes ago, he would’ve torn your outfit off without second thought and shown no mercy. let the shitty week he was having take control, guide him through the motions of achieving pleasure. but something inside logan urges him to be a little sentimental; take his sweet time on the off chance that he wakes up and discovers this was all a dream.

so he decides that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

the path down to your core was a familiar one, a route he knew like the back of his hand. sloppy, wet kisses trail down your stomach, a small crack in logan’s otherwise composed exterior. by the time he reaches the hem of your panties, tongue teasing beneath the waistband, you’re bursting at the seams with desire, unable to stop yourself from whimpering and bucking your hips upward.

“i gotcha honey,” he whispers against the inside of your thigh, rubbing soft circles with his thumb. “m’gonna take real good care of ya.”

logan knew you were soaked the second you walked into the room. didn’t need to see or feel it to know. still, he indulges his ego and stares proudly at the dark patch in the center of your underwear. knowing it was all his doing, that he was the only one who could get you like this.

when he pulls the fabric to the side and is met with your glistening folds, he can’t help the groan that rumbles in his chest.

“merry fuckin’ christmas to me,” he all but growls before diving right in.

it’s in moments like these where he wishes that photographic memory was his mutation, though he doubts he’ll ever forget this. his perfect girl, laid out so delicately beneath him, basking in the pale moonlight that seeped in between the curtains. his own personal utopia, paradise within the four walls of this rickety building you called home.

logan wonders if maybe he’s finally succumbed to the poison in his bones. because this sure does feel like heaven.

at the very least, it most definitely feels like christmas.

because having the privilege of watching you come undone was the gift that kept on giving all year round.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals @hextech-bros

!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!

[thediaryofaurora]

✩Kinktober - Day 4✩

Theme: Sex tape / double penetration

Pairing: Tim Wright x camgirl!reader x Brian Thomas

CW: NSFW, anal, riding, recording, toy use, f!reader

A/N: Sorry this is so short and late! Writers block is stomping on my brain and turning it into mush. I’m working on day 5 and day 6 tonight, ya girls trying to keep up 😪

✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩

“Are we all set?”

“Yup, just trying to find a good angle.”

Brian continued to adjust the camcorder, moving it a few inches one way or another until he felt it was the right spot.

Tim had just gotten back after running a few errands, buying you all the equipment you needed for your little show. His patience to start the film wavering when he sees you laying on Brian’s bed propped up on your elbows behind you, wearing nothing but a lace bra and a thong.

It’s obvious from how you rub your thighs together while looking at Tim that you’re growing impatient as well, only God knows how long you’ve been sitting here while Brian gets the ‘perfect angle.’

Tim came over to the end of the bed, emptying a plastic bag from an adult toy store. A dildo and a wand vibrator, your eyes growing with desperation. Tim unpacked them for you, setting them neatly by you.

“Alright, you ready?” Brian smirked, looking at you and to Tim. You give him an affirmative nod, the red light on the camera clicking on. “Go on.” Brian smugs, standing behind the camera and palming himself though his jeans.

Your cheeks turn a light shade of red, growing more and more embarrassed yet aroused by the second. You slowly take off your panties, kicking them to the side before undoing your bra. Leaning up to the selection you grab the vibrator first, lying back down and pulling one of the pillows underneath you. Gently you set the head against your clit, pressing the on button.

The vibration is rapid, much more than you had expected. A winced moan escapes your lips, eyes screwing shut as you tilt your head back.

Your first orgasm is already coming on, the knot in your stomach unfamiliar this time. You press the wand down harder, your swollen bud so horribly sensitive as you reach your climax. Your body tenses, your legs shaking vigorously as you squirt onto Brian’s pillow.

You melt into the bed, your high continuing as the vibrator remains on your clit. Your eyes still screwed shut as you feel the dildo forced into you. Quickly you look up, a loud moan of pain and pleasure bouncing off the walls.

Tim stands at the end of the bed, a grin on his face while he watches you take on your second orgasm. He continued to thrust in the dildo, the abnormally lengthy girth abusing your g-spot and pushing you over the edge. You cum, the back to back sensations making you collapse into the sheets, completely helpless and worn out.

Brian takes the toys and sets them aside, giving Tim a nod before both of them begin to undress, Tim coming to the bed first and lying down. His hands firmly grip your hips, setting you on top of him. His cock was already hard, your heat growing wetter at the sight of him pumping it while staring at your almost bare form.

The bed shifts as Brian joins you, positioning himself between you and Tim’s legs, pulling your hips upwards to get your ass to his level. Eagerly he slightly lifted you up, forcing you down on his cock. He wanted to be gentle with you, but he just couldn’t help himself.

He kept his hands on your hips, lifting you up and pulling you back down repeatedly, his girth stretching you with every trust.

Your tensed as you felt Brian’s finger brush your asshole, begging for entry.

“Relax, hun.” He coos, leaning down and spitting on the hole before slowly putting in two of his fingers.

A sharp moan escapes your lips, but the feeling is euphoric.

He begins to curl his fingers, attempting to stretch you out while Tim continues to pump into you. Brian’s pulls his fingers out, his tip rubbing against your hole. Slowly he pushes it in further and further until he can’t.

“Bri-Brian it’s too much-“ Your words a babble as he starts to thrust into your tight hole, both of them pounding into you one after the other, no longer considering how rough they have gotten with their pace.

Your speed of riding Tim grew more and more sloppy, your third climax coming to a close. Your head is fuzzy, a ring echoing in your ears as both of them continue to fuck you, despite the fact that your body had gone limp and completely given out.

Tim was the first to cum, fucking into you harder and harder until his warm seed flooded into you. Finally he lets go of your hips, Brian’s high coming next. His thrusts grew more and more ragged, jolting in and out of you before filling your other hole.

All three of you panted, dog piled on top of each other. Brian got off, deeply breathing as he went to the cam corder and flicked it off.

✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩

Creepypasta Masterlist

Kinktober Masterlist

[everyonewooeverywhere]

NSFW BLOG | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

pairing: san x afab!reader | yunho x afab!reader (separate couples)

rating: 18+

word count: 0.9k

content/warnings: period sex, unprotected sex, pet names (pretty, baby, love), blood...eating?? (that's a bit dramatic. its a lick. it's yunho), yunho has a bit of a kink for this, ok? 💀

if you just wanna read about soft period sex you can just read san's 💀

notes: @ateez-main-yapper and i talked about this at length about a month ago and i finally decided to write about it 😭

ALSO i might make a series out of this format so if you have any ideas for [member] vs [member] in regard to different kinks or whatever please let me know!! 💗

San is completely down to fuck you when you’re on your period. 

He hates to see his baby in pain, and if he knows he has the ability to make you feel better, you better believe he’s gonna do it.

He’ll see you on the couch all mopey and sad and in pain, so he’ll crouch down to your level and kiss you on the forehead. “You doing alright, love.” And when you shake your head, he frowns a little. “Can i do anything to help?”

He’s apprehensive at first, not wanting you to feel like he’s pressuring you if you’re really not in the mood. But you just groan, “Sannie, everything hurts…” and he notices your breath catch slightly when he brushes your thigh with his fingers.

And when he suggests what he suspects is on both of your minds, you just look up at him with big eyes, “You’d be okay with that?”

He kisses your knuckles, “Of course. If it’ll make you feel better, I’d do anything.”

First, he’ll lead you to the bathroom and tell you to shower while he gets everything ready.

And he is so fucking serious about this. He grabs a couple of towels, and makes sure there’s a fresh set of sheets in the wash so he can change them when you’re done. He checks the room temperature so that it isn’t too warm or too cold. He turns the lights down so there’s only a soft glow in the room. And he even lights a candle on the nightstand. 

Ahen you’re finished with your shower he wraps you in his arms and leads you to the bed. Laying you down on one of the new fluffy towels he bought specifically for this occasion so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable on a scratchy old towel (and he’ll buy new ones once these lose their softness).

He’s so soft and gentle with you, too. Kissing every inch of your neck and chest. And he’ll reach up and grab your hand and hold it, rubbing your knuckles as he kisses your thighs. When he feels like you’re ready, he’ll crawl back over you, “Condom?” 

And he nearly melts when you shake your head and wrap your arms around his neck, “If it’s okay with you?”

He’ll just smile and kiss you softly, “Anything for my baby.”

And it’s like heaven when he sinks into you. Feeling your warm walls wrap around his cock. His thrusts are slow and steady, making sure he hits the right spot over time. His lips never leave yours as he fucks you so good. His hands secure your hips as your fingers tangle in his hair. 

Everything so warm and soft and gentle.

Yunho is absolutely down to fuck you when you’re on your period.

Just the thought of your squirming under him as he fucks the life out of your hot, bloody cunt makes his head spin.

He’ll see you doubled over in pain at the kitchen counter. Bent over and groaning at the discomfort. And he’ll try so fucking hard to be normal about it. Rubbing your back and asking if you’re okay. 

But he can’t. He can’t fucking do it. Seeing your ass stuck out at a perfect height for him to just grab and have his way with is so tempting. So he’ll come up behind you and grab your hips, pressing himself directly into your ass. 

And he’s not a monster so he’ll lean down to your ear and ask, “Is everything alright, pretty?”

He helps you stand up straight and wraps his arms around your waist from behind. You shake your head and lean back into his chest, “Yuyu…” you whine his name and he swears he’s gonna lose it, “Everything hurts.”

“Oh my baby,” he coos and slides his hand from your waist to between your legs where he can cup your pussy, “Will you let me help you?” And he swears he feels you grind into his hand. “Yuyu’s gonna make you feel so much better, ok baby?”

And he leads you to the bedroom and lays you down on the sheets. He’ll never bother with towels because he thinks they’re uncomfortable and he can just wash the sheets later. But when you’re naked under him he doesn’t have any control left in him.

He’ll run his hands over your hips and thighs, squeezing them in his hands, “Baby?”

“Yes?” And you look up at him with those teary, needy eyes.

“Can I fuck this pretty pussy raw?” He’ll run his pointer and middle fingers through your folds just to show you how good the skin-on-skin contact feels. And you shiver when he presses the tips of his fingers into you, “You like that?”

You nod, reaching up to grab his shoulder, “Please…”

“Ok, pretty,” He takes his fingers away from your folds and towards his lips, maintaining your eye contact as he licks the blood from his fingertips. He smirks down at you before removing his fingers and leaning down over you to kiss you so needily.

And he takes his sweet time, running the tip of his cock through your folds, watching how the head comes out red every time he teases your pretty pulsing cunt. Mesmerized by how easy it is for him to slide into you. Letting your blood coat the entirety of his cock when he sinks all the way in, the wetness of it driving him insane.

Everything so raw and needy.

general taglist: @swimmingkpopblog @oddracha @drinkingrumandcocacola @minaateez

ateez taglist: @certifiedmoa @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @curiousgworge @hyukssunflower @hotteokisms

@sushiinmidnight @atiny-dime-p1ece @mismatchfluffysocks @vic0921 @vampzity

@breadpuddingboys @woolysium @desirehorizon @im-ovulation @pommelex

@dancingwithdeities @maidens-world @jycas @kirbrary @aftertherain-atr

@staytinyinmybpack

[adventuringblind]

Biology Sucks

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Reader has really bad periods and is embarrassed about it. Oscar just wants to help.

Warnings: Really bad periods and everything that comes with them

Notes: To the requester, I feel you on the bad period thing. I hope this brings you the comfort you need to get through your next one!

Side Note: My inbox is open if you wanna come chat with me :)

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It hurts. A familiar hurt, unfortunately, and she's not sure whether that's better or worse yet. Of all the things that could've happened on her date, it had to be this.

She excuses herself from the table. Oscar gives her a concerned look, but she waves it off. "Just need to freshen up." Oscar nods, but he doesn't look convinced.

Eight months, and he already knows how to read her like a book.

She ends up leaving her date early because she already knows how this ends. It'll look like she's gone to war and got stabbed lower than necessary. It also currently feels that way, and she's ready to throw up her guts if that's what it takes to make it stop.

Oscar texts her. Then he calls her. Eventually deciding she probably has fallen asleep if she wasn't feeling well and decides to do something for her in the morning.

The same event had happened last month, and she'd avoided him for the entire week. The brief topic of periods came up because he asked if that was it, and she'd told him they were considerably bad.

The benefit of having sisters is that he at least knows the basics here. He throws on some shoes in the early hours of the morning and heads out the door to the convenience store.

Oscar makes a guess from the information he's gleaned on what kinds of snacks she would like. He also throws a text to his mum to double-check because lord knows if he messes this up, she'll come for his head.

It's just past ten when he arrives at her flat and unlocks the door with the spare key. He questions if this could be considered breaking and entering since he technically didn't know the spare key would be hidden inside the bottom of a fake plant. Things to worry about later, he supposes.

He finds her sprawled out of the bed, a bottle of painkillers open on the side table. He drops his own bags on the grounds softly so he doesn't wake her.

Especially not when she's shivering in her sleep and he can see the sticky red coating the sheets. He determines to let her sleep until he has everything ready to clean her up. There is no point in letting her sit in it while awake for no reason.

He remembers specifically making trips to the store with his mum for bed sheets when his sisters had similar problems. He just wishes she felt comfortable telling him about it. Heaven help is was some bastard making her feel like this is gross and not some natural part of life.

He admits openly to punching one person in his lifetime. The boy who was picking on his sister for bleeding through her shorts while he was home for Christmas one year. He made the boys nose bleed and called him gross for it. Oscar tries not to think about what he would do now that he's bulked up.

He starts the bath, finds her extra clothes, including his own hoodie, and attempts to locate her spare sheets. He feels bad going through all her cupboards, but he doesn't want to wake her up to ask.

When everything is all set up, he sets himself down gently beside and caresses the side of her face until she wakes.

Initially, there is a look of terror on her face until she realizes it's just Oscar and not an intruder. "How'd you get in?"

"Your spare key wasn't hard to find."

She takes a breath to settle her heart. That's when she feels what's underneath her... and beside her... all around her, really. "I-" the tears are pathetic.

"It's okay, really! My sister's had some bad ones as did my mum. Can I touch you?"

The pit in her stomach ends up settling in confusion. She tilts her head. "You're not, like, disgusted?"

"It's biology, isn't it? Natural? I see no reason to be disgusted." It the certainty of which he says it that make the tears start.

Oscar coos at her, waiting until she's calmed down to set about getting her cleaned up. "I ran you a bath already. I figured you'd want it warm and bubbly."

She cries again. Not because she's upset - far from it - but nobody has ever done this for her. "I'm not sure what I did to deserve this."

"To be fair, I don't think you ask to bleed every month."

While she's in the bath, Oscar strips the bed down and recreates it how he thinks it should go. The key word here is thinks. His eye for aesthetics isn't the best, but he makes it work regardless.

Soon, she's out of the bath and in his hoodie. "Feeling any better?"

"A bit... thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, I'm not the best in the kitchen, so this might actually kill you instead."

She hesitate when he sits down on the couch and pats the spot beside him. "Aren't you worried I might bleed on you?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you could bleed on all my clothes and I'd happily purchase new ones if it means you'll come cuddle with me."

She relents and curls up in Oscar's lap. He turns on a movie and they both end up falling asleep to it.

Easy to say it's the best she's ever slept on her period. And when she wakes up to Oscar purchasing a new pair of sweats, he smiles at her. "I figure if it will help you stress less, I will get some extra clothes just in case." No hints of judgment or annoyance. Just Oscar trying to help.

Yeah, maybe periods don't have to be so miserable while he's around.

[gilbertscurls]

hopeless — chris sturniolo

While you were busy fighting with your unruly eyeliner pencil in the poorly lit girls’ bathroom, Chris Sturniolo was wrestling with the snooze button on his alarm clock.

He finally managed to drag himself out of bed, bleary-eyed and muttering curses at the cruel world of 7 AM wake-up calls. His morning routine wasn’t exactly polished, and that became painfully evident when he spilled his coffee—hot coffee—on his favorite lacrosse jersey.

“Are you kidding me?” he groaned, holding the stained fabric away from his chest like it had personally offended him.

With no time for a wardrobe change, he shoved his feet into mismatched socks, grabbed his gym bag, and dashed out the door with his hair still doing its best impression of a hedgehog who had been struck by lightning.

It was third period, and the universe seemed determined to keep your life firmly categorized under “mildly catastrophic.” You sat in the library, surrounded by an intimidating pile of textbooks, your laptop blinking a low-battery warning at you.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, shoving your glasses up your nose and squinting at your notes.

The universe, however, wasn’t done with its morning antics. Because at that exact moment, Chris Sturniolo barreled through the double doors of the library like a golden retriever that had just been let off its leash.

He was wearing his stained jersey, his hair still a mess, and he looked utterly confused as he squinted at the rows of tables.

“Chris?” Mrs. Jenkins, the librarian, hissed from her desk. “This is a library. Lower your voice, please.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Chris whispered, though it wasn’t much quieter than his regular speaking voice. He scanned the room, spotted you hunched over your pile of work, and beelined toward your table with an exaggerated sigh of relief.

You glanced up, your pencil hovering mid-air. “Uh… can I help you?”

Chris dropped into the chair across from you, dropping his gym bag onto the floor with a loud thud. “Please tell me you’re in AP Chemistry.”

You blinked at him. “Yeah… why?”

“Because I am so lost, and I think I’m about to fail this entire unit. Coach said if I bomb another quiz, I’m benched for Saturday’s game.”

“Okay… and you came to me because?”

Chris grinned, and for a moment, you could see why half the school practically melted every time he flashed that signature smirk. “Because you’re, like, the smartest person in this school. And also because I think everyone else is scared of me.”

You fought back a smile, biting your lower lip. “You? Scary? You literally tripped over a basketball in the hallway last week.”

“That was one time!” Chris exclaimed, a little too loudly, earning a sharp glare from Mrs. Jenkins. He winced and lowered his voice. “Listen, Y/N. Please. I’ll do… whatever. Carry your books, buy you coffee, sing your praises in the hallway—just please help me not fail.”

You stared at him for a moment, watching his puppy-dog eyes practically bore into your soul. You sighed, finally closing your textbook.

“Fine. Meet me here after school. Bring your notes—if you have any.”

Chris grinned wide, his dimples on full display. “You’re the best, seriously. Like, the best.”

Before you could respond, he was up and out of his chair, gym bag swinging wildly over his shoulder as he dashed out of the library.

You shook your head with a laugh.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, and true to his word, Chris was already waiting at your usual library table. His jersey still had a faint coffee stain on it, but he’d at least attempted to fix his hair—it was still a little chaotic, but charmingly so.

“Okay, show me what you’ve got,” you said, setting down your backpack.

Chris unzipped his gym bag and pulled out… nothing.

“Chris.”

“No, wait, wait!” He started digging through the pockets, pulling out crumpled papers, a broken pencil, and—somehow—a granola bar wrapper.

“Chris!”

“Okay, okay!” He held up a single sheet of paper. “This is all I have.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying not to laugh. “You are hopeless.”

Chris shrugged sheepishly. “But I’m charmingly hopeless?”

You rolled your eyes and motioned for him to sit down. “Alright, let’s start from scratch. And if you mess up one more formula, I’m writing it on your forehead with permanent marker.”

Chris grinned as he grabbed a pencil. “Deal.”

Two hours later, the library was nearly empty. Chris had his head resting on the table, groaning softly as you pointed at yet another chemical equation.

“Chris, focus.”

“I can’t. My brain is full.”

“It’s been full since the second grade, hasn’t it?”

Chris lifted his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Wow, Y/N. Who knew you were so sassy?”

You shrugged. “It’s easy when the person across from me still doesn’t know the difference between a mole and molarity.”

Chris groaned again, dropping his forehead onto the open textbook.

“Okay, fine. We’ll stop here for today,” you said, unable to keep from laughing.

Chris lifted his head slowly, a tired but genuine smile on his face. “Thanks, Y/N. Seriously. I would’ve been toast without you.”

You hesitated before responding. “You’re welcome, Chris. But you owe me. Big time.”

He stood up, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry. I plan on paying you back.”

You raised a brow. “How?”

“With my sparkling personality, of course,” he said with a wink before jogging backward out of the library.

You shook your head, watching him disappear down the hallway.

Chris Sturniolo, the messy-haired, coffee-stained, perpetually-late lacrosse jock, had somehow managed to make chemistry tutoring feel… fun.

And maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t mind seeing him at the library again tomorrow.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim, @courta13

[sparshjaipur]

Reviving Classic Patterns: Sparsh Jaipur’s Timeless Designs for Modern Homes

Sparsh Jaipur is famous for its designs' rich history. The brand combines traditional craftsmanship with modern sensibilities. Their products make any home look timeless and elegant. One of the features that make them different is their classic patterns. These designs are not only aesthetic but also functional. They infuse a unique charm into modern spaces. Let's see how Sparsh Jaipur's creations are changing homes today.

The Charm of Jaipur Bedsheets

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Jaipur Bedsheet Cotton: The Ideal Blend of Comfort and Durability

Comfort-wise and quality-wise, Jaipur bed sheet cotton is something that stands out. Cotton is a naturally breathable, soft fabric. When it uses high-grade cotton to craft its product, the bedsheets from it, it does them both justice. Beyond being a pleasure to sleep on, it is also easy to care for the cotton bed sheet. Breathability from cotton ensures a good night's rest. Hence, bringing together the rich feel and practicality of a Sparsh Jaipur bed sheet cotton is a choice.

Jaipur Bedsheets: A Fusion of Style and Comfort

Jaipur bedsheets seem to be the most sought-after products from Sparsh Jaipur. The bedsheets come with very intricate designs and vibrant colours. Moreover, the designs on these bedsheets are not only catching the eye but also soft to the touch. The fabric is strong and luxurious. The bedsheets hold their beauty even after several washes. These bedsheets fit perfectly whether you have a contemporary or traditional bedroom.

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Other than bedsheets, Sparsh Jaipur also offers cotton dohar. Dohar is a traditional Indian blanket; it is made of cotton. It is perfect to be added to any bed, providing just the right amount of warmth. It is an excellent choice for those who need a light, cosy layer. Therefore, these dohar designs from Sparsh Jaipur are vibrant in color and rich in intricate patterns. Whether it is summer or winter, a cotton dohar is never heavy or uncomfortable. The breathable nature ensures that you sleep peacefully with no discomfort during the whole night.

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For those seeking comfort along with style, the comforters and quilts available from Sparsh Jaipur come in handy. These quilts and comforters are so well crafted that they make winters bearable. With some wonderful handcrafted designs, it even lends a stylish look to the bed in your bedroom. Furthermore, since it is made using very fine fabrics and intricate embroidery, quilts from Sparsh Jaipur make for an elegant view. They are just perfect for any comforter to be found with luxurious feels that give the feel of warmth to the house. Besides, they come in many different patterns and colours, so it would not be hard to find something matching your home decor.

Reviving Classic Patterns for the Modern Home

Sparsh Jaipur's designs perfectly blend the old and new. The brand converts classic patterns into something that suits modern tastes and styles. Therefore, the design house approaches artistry in such a way that it preserves the best traditional flair while ensuring the stylish outline of today. Whether a Jaipur vibrant bed sheet cotton or a delicate cotton dohar, it takes timeless charm inside your home. Moreover, such designs improve the beauty of your place and make it feel more welcoming and cosy.

Perfect for All Types of Homes

Their collections are designed for every type of home. Whether you have a traditional house or one of the sleek modern apartments, their designs add personal character to your space. Versatility is the beauty of Sparsh Jaipur. It can be matched with any style of décor, adding that bit of warmth and sophistication. Additionally, the quality of the material is sure to ensure comfort and a practical addition to any home.

Conclusion

Sparsh Jaipur revives a classic pattern with an adaptation to modernity. Their products, including Jaipur bedsheets, cotton dohars, comforters, and quilts, provide the perfect perception of comfort and styles. Furthermore, they hold the richness of Jaipur's culture while suiting the present home requirements. By opting for their timeless designs, you add not only beauty but also comfort to your home.

[tranceindia123]

The best furnishings for your home! A guide to selecting

Your home is more than just a shelter. It's your haven, telling your personal story, and the stage on which life puts on its symphony. For Trance Home Linen, the furnishing you carefully choose becomes the instrument that orchestrates the mood, functionality, and aesthetics of every space. Today, the people dwelling in their homes treat furnishings as part of their statement, and therefore they come up with the ultimate collection, which states a lot about their tastes and aspirations. It requires attention to detail and an appreciation for quality craftsmanship, and these elements converge to create a whole.Scale and proportion: Imagine an ordinary living room set with a gigantic sofa. Measure your space thoughtfully and choose furnishing items that fit well in the flow. Add to the majestic look with the Lightweight Cotton Voile Curtains (Clay Red). Form and Function: Forget your style quotient for the moment, but functionality is the key. Will the Diwan set you are going to love become a challenge while navigating through the house every day?

[writteninthebinds]

Teach Me

A Jayvik fic - part two

Word-count: 2256

Summary: Jayce teaches Viktor how to dance. Things get a little heated.

Warnings: This is pretty tame. A little nsfw dialogue at the end that alludes to part three.

Notes: I really love this. This is technically part two but you can read it on its own. You can find and read part one on my page. I didn’t put near the same amount of effort into part one, so I might even go back and update it sometime soon. I’ll create a list where you can find them all together too. It’s currently 5am, haven’t slept and I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t post this now, so I apologize if there’s mistakes lol. I’ll edit them when I wake up again. 🫶🏼 you guys.

“Oh, but there is no music,” Viktor musters with pause, like a last-minute thought. Like he didn’t fully think through asking Jayce to teach him how to dance. Here, alone, in his room for the night. Viktor stands towards the end of the large king-sized bed, navy-colored sheets with gold stitching. His cane is tucked into his side, eyes on Jayce, who’s still standing in front of the double doors leading to the balcony.

Jayce is luminated from behind. The glow of the party lanterns below casting warm shadows into the night sky and their -  Viktor’s room.

“We shouldn’t need any,” Jayce promises as he steps further in. He’s still taking in the room, the colors and warm ambient lighting, when he focuses back on Viktor. For a split second, he stands there looking unsure, doubtful or perhaps even regretful for asking Jayce.

Something akin to dedication and reverence rakes its way across Jayce’s bones. Deep in his marrow. He wants to erase any trace of unease from Viktor’s body and mind.

Taking a few long strides, Jayce moves to a small coffee table in the room. Sly smirk painted across his lips, hands already deep within his pockets, searching, he says, “You get the steps right, I give you more of these.”

Confusion clouds Viktor’s face. Eyebrow quirked, nose slightly scrunched, until he looks down. Jayce litters the tabletop with sweets. The same candy he stole earlier. Viktor’s favorite. A laugh is shoved from Viktor’s chest as handfuls are dropped. He watches in awe, in surprise. Jayce can’t tell which, though he decides right then and there that he’ll do anything to keep that look of wonder and mischief on Vik’s face.

“Jayce.”

Viktor laces his name with muted laughter and accusation, really failing to look upset in the slightest. 

“Don't. Don’t give me that. You’re lucky I didn’t grab the crystal dish they were sitting in. Would’ve been easier to carry all night. Been weighing down my pockets,” Jayce rambles.

Set ablaze from the joy on Viktor’s face, he’s moving faster again, not overthinking every move. He gets excited. Jayce knows this. His words and actions speed up, excitement bubbling in his chest. Enhanced by Viktor.

He's still going, Jayce. Still talking, still moving, until a slight breeze pours cool air down his back. It’s then Jayce pauses. His suit jacket is already halfway down his arms, resting in the crooks of his elbows. He wasn’t thinking. Why would he take off his jacket just to dance? Is it weird? Does Viktor think so?

No.

Jayce watches as Viktor stands there rolling up his own sleeves so causally. He doesn’t stop, still folding the fabric. He only looks up at Jayce when he’s been quite for a little too long. And Viktor just smiles. Easy and cool. Like a lazy creek. It soothes Jayce, like the most expensive balm one could buy.

“Alright,” Jayce explains as he shucks off his jacket the rest of the way, “the Waltz. It’s a simple box step.”

He closes the distance between them. His nerves are only settled for so long, until he comes to stand in front of Viktor. Until he realizes, they both can’t lead.

A smug smile tugs at the corner of Viktor’s mouth. He doesn’t wait for Jayce to voice what he can clearly read written on his face. Confident as always, he grabs Jayce’s hands. Hosting their right and left into the air, clasped together, and guiding Jayce’s right to his back. Viktor whispers, “You lead. I will follow.”

That stirs something within Jayce. Deep in his gut. A pit buried and nestled behind his belly button, and Viktor’s dipping his fucking fingers in.

He feels the back brace beneath Viktor’s black shirt, firm under his open palm. Jayce wants more. To feel more. He looks good in black. Fuck.

The feeling of Viktor’s hand coming to a rest on his shoulder shakes Jayce from his thoughts.

“We’re essentially mirroring one another’s steps, in the shape of a box. Each step is a corner,” Jayce describes. His hands are still on Viktor when he realizes he probably should’ve shown him the steps first, with more space between them. He steps away to demonstrate.

They walk through it slowly. One step at a time. Apart and then together again. Jayce gets lost. It might look like he’s letting Viktor work through the stumbling steps on his own, but no, he’s just lost. In Viktor.

Jayce in time relaxes. His right hand splays broader on Viktor’s back, covering so much space. His thumb trailing the line of his spine through the brace. He wants to feel skin. Their palms are slick with sweat, Viktor’s fingers tightening against his hand and shoulder with each misstep.

“Viktor,” Jayce speaks, “eyes on me.”

Instantly Viktor is there, grip still tight and honey amber eyes fixed on his face with determination. A bit of annoyance. Jayce smiles softly. He finds it endearing. Viktor’s intent to learn. Though now Viktor doesn’t respond, doesn’t return to the steps either.

A beat of silence. Then –

“How do you suppose I learn if I am not looking?” Viktor sputters, frustration etched into his features like Jayce asked him for something impossible. It only fuels Jayce’s adoration. Laughing, he pulls away gently, fingertips lingering, and walks over to the small table.

“You’ve done exceptional,” Jayce says as he swipes two pieces of chocolate. He walks back over to Viktor, unwrapping the fudge himself and holding the foil flat for Viktor to pick off of. Even more melted than before, fudge and peanut butter coat the foil, smudging their skin.

“The only exceptional thing I’ve achieved is not breaking any of your toes,” Viktor muses. Joking, but still frustrated. Viktor finishes eating, slipping his thumb into his mouth, ridding it of any left-over fudge.

Jayce finishes his own, tucking the trash into his pocket to deal with later. Busying himself, Jayce stares at Viktor’s feet, his brace, partly thinking and partly looking anywhere else that is not Viktor’s mouth. He replays the steps in his mind.

While he didn’t lie to Viktor at all, he can understand the hiccups due to the brace. The small steps forward aren’t so much the issue as the side steps and going backwards. Viktor’s leg brace was built for stability. Rigid and sturdy, not for flowing movements. Counterbalancing his weight without his cane is also new.

“Take off your shoes,” Jayce declares. It stops Viktor mid sentence, going on again about Ms. Ellis and when she’ll notice the missing bowl of sweets. He stands there frozen and perplexed.

“I will have to remove my brace as well,” Viktor explains slowly. Jayce gives him a soft smile.

“Would that be alright? Do you trust me?”

Viktor’s features melt at Jayce’s questions. Relaxing, from unsure to fondness, he replies without doubt, “Of course.”

Jayce doesn’t wait another second.

He kicks off his own shoes, and then drops to his knees. Jayce’s calloused hands, callouses Viktor has now felt scratch his skin through his shirt, they start disassembling his brace with ease. Viktor can feel the heat of Jayce’s palms, warm and large trailing their way from his thigh to his calf, slipping the brace off with care. He then slips the ties of Viktor’s dress shoes loose easily, letting him hold onto his shoulder as his heels slide out.

Perhaps the chocolate has gone to Jayce’s head.

“Now what?” Viktor ask once their both standing again, facing each other, amusement and sarcasm replacing his confusion. They’re both in their socks. Feet sinking into the plush carpet, Jayce takes a step forward, and another.

“Wanted to try something. You’re gonna have to be closer this time though,” Jayce explains. He crowds into Viktor’s space. His right hand reaching forward with confidence, with the excuse that it’s for the dance. Viktor doesn’t hesitate, slipping back into the familiar stance. Until -

“Now, place your feet onto mine,” Jayce explains.

Now Viktor hesitates.

Looking up from the floor, amber eyes on hazel, Viktor says nothing. He just looks at Jayce intently. A moment passes, thick with tension. And in another moment, Viktor drops their clasped hands, grabbing Jayce’s other shoulder.

It shouldn’t be as intimate as it feels. The soft arch of his feet. A shutter shouldn’t rack its way down Jayce’s body as Viktor’s sock covered feet slide onto his.

It’s closer than Jayce thought. Both of Viktor’s hands now rest higher up Jayce’s shoulders. Instinctively, his left found Viktor’s waist, holding him steady as he found his balance and a comfortable position. Just as he settles, looking back to Jayce directly, soft music drifts in from the balcony. The party outside.

Jayce nearly forgot. The sea of people outside, mingling and some dancing themselves. Though Jayce would never trade spots with any of them. Money, power, spotlight. He’s content here. Alone with Viktor, in the sanctity of this room. A new song begins downstairs. Jayce’s cue to start moving.

He moves with a little more effort, the weight of Viktor comforting more than anything though. Gliding across the carpet Jayce starts with a formal Waltz. Poised and perfect. Long strides. He even adds in the turns. He wants Viktor to feel it, the grace of a Waltz you’d perform in front of the eyes of those downstairs.

But here, with Viktor, he shortens his steps soon. Because that is not them. He doesn’t feel the pressure to be perfect in Viktor’s arms. They’re more than fancy parties and the “right way” to dance. He wants Viktor to know he can have it all, that Jayce will show him everything, but that most of all, any way is perfect as long as it’s them. Together.

Before long, they’re simply turning softly, swaying. Moves Viktor could easily do and yet his feet never leave Jayce’s.

“Thank you,” Viktor breathes. The words are spoken lowly enough between them that Jayce barely registers it. Lost again. Jayce hums in response. He can’t do words at the moment.

Viktor’s body has drifted even closer. Jayce thinks if he takes a deep enough breath, their chests might brush together. But right now, it’s Viktor’s hands. Venturing from his shoulders to the nape of his neck, Viktor’s fingers graze against the longer strands of Jayce’s grown out hair. It sends goosebumps erupting, racing across his skin.

“What may I do for you in return? For all of this, tonight?” Viktor ask, his voice different now. Still sweet, still rich, but lower. Jayce understands right then that Viktor reminds him of syrup. His voice specifically. Aged and pure. Sticky sweet and slow. Thick and consuming.

Jayce smiles, responds, “The fudge, remember?”

“No,” Viktor muses, “something else.”

“Teach me something.”

Jayce can’t even regret it, once it’s past his lips and out of his mouth. Words thrown out like a curveball in slow motion. He meant it sincerely. Jayce taught him something, why not offer the same in return?

It came out heavy though. Flirty. Loaded with innuendo due to the slight draw of Jayce’s voice now.

“Like what?” Viktor inquires. It’s this moment Viktor’s fingers, warm and soft, fully slide into Jayce’s hair at the base of his skull. Jayce bites his tongue, and everything he wants to say back.

How to touch you. How to kiss you. How to ask for that from you. Fuck.

Jayce says nothing. He knows though. Viktor knows. Has always been able to read Jayce’s thoughts. Can read it all over his face too, and in the steel look in his eyes.

There is only a beat, soft, before Viktor’s grip tightens in his hair, ripping a gasp from Jayce.

Before he can breathe in again, Viktor’s mouth finds his. Warm. Soft. Their chest fully pressed together now. Jayce’s lungs burn for a full breath, but he doesn’t relent. Neither of them do. He only needs Viktor. To breathe him in.

His arms wrap fully around Viktor’s waist, pulling him in tighter, hands roaming his back now. Their tongues meet and that pit in Jayce’s belly turns molten. A sound Jayce doesn’t want to admit to escapes as Viktor brings a hand around to his face, nails scrapping through his bread. They break apart.

“Jayce,” Viktor rasp.

Jayce doesn’t give him a chance. Driven by need and Viktor’s wrecked tone. Knowing he made him sound like that, he dives back in, erasing the smile from Viktor’s face. Jayce licks behind his teeth, tasting champagne and chocolate, and just - Viktor.

Viktor’s nails scratch his jaw again, venturing lower. His other hand still drags through Jayce’s hair. Things become slower. Hands still roaming, squeezing, pulling. They stand still though. No longer swaying, Jayce’s feet are going numb and tingly beneath them, and he couldn’t care less.

Languid strokes of their tongues draw out more and more sounds. Jayce is distracted. Drowning and loving it. Drinking Viktor in by the lungful. It’s why he doesn’t see it coming.

Another tight grip in his hair, accompanied this time by Viktor’s other hand wrapped around his throat too, squeezing as Viktor sinks his teeth into Jayce’s bottom lip.

“I – unnf.”

Jayce groans, best he can with the way Viktor has his neck cranked back, fingers tightening around his throat.

“Tell me, Jayce. Tell me what you want to learn,” Viktor all but purrs.

He leans in, not going back to fully kissing him but licking across and into Jayce’s open mouth. Like he can’t stop himself either. Like Viktor, too, is fueled by desire, too hungry to wait for a response.

Jayce is weak. Weak when it comes to Viktor. Viktor’s wet mouth and hard touch. He sticks his own tongue out, meeting anywhere Viktor will allow him a taste. He only answers when Viktor pulls back once again.

He pants like a dog. Whines, only a little.

“Teach me how to suck cock.”

[vaahomedecor]

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