#crushed velvet double bed

[beds-divans]

The Ultimate Guide to Luxurious Comfort and Style

Crushed velvet beds have taken the world of interior design by storm. Their rich texture, opulent appearance, and unparalleled comfort make them a favorite among homeowners and designers alike. In this comprehensive guide, we delve into the many facets of crushed velvet beds, from their history and manufacturing process to the benefits they offer and how to incorporate them into your home décor. Whether you’re a seasoned interior designer or simply looking to upgrade your bedroom, this article will provide you with all the information you need to make an informed decision.

The History and Appeal of Crushed Velvet

Crushed velvet has a long and storied history, dating back to ancient civilizations where it was considered a fabric of royalty and luxury. The process of creating crushed velvet involves pressing the fabric while it is still wet, resulting in its distinctive, irregular texture that catches and reflects light in a unique way. This texture not only enhances the visual appeal of the fabric but also adds a tactile element that is both soft and inviting.

The resurgence of crushed velvet in contemporary design can be attributed to its versatility and the sense of opulence it brings to any space. From traditional to modern interiors, crushed velvet beds seamlessly fit into various décor styles, making them a timeless addition to any home.

Benefits of Crushed Velvet Beds

Crushed velvet beds offer numerous benefits that go beyond their aesthetic appeal. Here are some key advantages:

Luxurious Comfort: The soft and plush texture of crushed velvet provides an unparalleled level of comfort, making it an ideal choice for bed upholstery.

Durability: Despite its delicate appearance, crushed velvet is a durable fabric that can withstand daily wear and tear. Its dense weave and high-quality materials ensure that it remains in excellent condition for years.

Versatility: Available in a wide range of colors and styles, crushed velvet beds can complement any interior design scheme. Whether you prefer bold, vibrant hues or subtle, muted tones, there is a crushed velvet bed to match your taste.

Easy Maintenance: Crushed velvet is relatively easy to maintain. Regular vacuuming and occasional spot cleaning are usually sufficient to keep it looking fresh and new.

Choosing the Perfect Crushed Velvet Bed

When selecting a crushed velvet bed, there are several factors to consider to ensure you make the best choice for your needs and preferences:

Size and Dimensions: Determine the appropriate size of the bed based on your room’s dimensions and your personal requirements. Crushed velvet beds are available in various sizes, from single to king size.

Color and Finish: Consider the color scheme of your bedroom and choose a crushed velvet bed that complements or contrasts beautifully with your existing décor. Popular colors include deep jewel tones like emerald green and sapphire blue, as well as neutral shades like grey and beige.

Bed Frame Style: Crushed velvet beds come in various styles, including sleigh beds, platform beds, and canopy beds. Select a style that aligns with your aesthetic preferences and functional needs.

Headboard Design: The headboard is a prominent feature of a crushed velvet bed. Look for designs that add visual interest, such as tufted, buttoned, or wingback headboards.

Incorporating Crushed Velvet Beds into Your Home Décor

To make the most of your crushed velvet bed, consider the following tips for incorporating it into your home décor:

Create a Focal Point: Use your crushed velvet bed as the focal point of your bedroom. Arrange other furniture and accessories around it to draw attention to its luxurious texture and design.

Complement with Textures: Pair your crushed velvet bed with other textured fabrics, such as silk, satin, or faux fur, to create a rich and layered look. Throw pillows, blankets, and rugs in complementary textures can enhance the overall aesthetic.

Choose Coordinating Furniture: Select bedside tables, dressers, and other bedroom furniture that complement the style and color of your crushed velvet bed. Opt for pieces with similar design elements or materials to create a cohesive look.

Play with Lighting: Proper lighting can enhance the luxurious appearance of crushed velvet. Use a combination of ambient, task, and accent lighting to highlight the texture and color of the bed. Consider installing dimmable lights to create a cozy and inviting atmosphere.

Caring for Your Crushed Velvet Bed

To maintain the beauty and longevity of your crushed velvet bed, follow these care tips:

Regular Cleaning: Vacuum the bed regularly using a soft brush attachment to remove dust and debris. This helps prevent the buildup of dirt that can dull the fabric’s appearance.

Spot Cleaning: In case of spills or stains, gently blot the affected area with a clean, damp cloth. Avoid rubbing, as this can damage the fabric. Use a mild detergent if necessary, and always test it on a small, inconspicuous area first.

Protect from Sunlight: Prolonged exposure to direct sunlight can cause the color of crushed velvet to fade. Position your bed away from windows or use curtains and blinds to protect it from harsh sunlight.

Professional Cleaning: For deep cleaning, consider hiring a professional upholstery cleaner who specializes in delicate fabrics like crushed velvet. This ensures a thorough and safe cleaning process.

Conclusion

Crushed velvet beds are the epitome of luxury and comfort, offering a timeless addition to any bedroom. Their unique texture, durability, and versatility make them a popular choice for those looking to elevate their interior décor. By choosing the right size, color, and style, and incorporating complementary textures and lighting, you can create a stunning and inviting space centered around your crushed velvet bed. With proper care and maintenance, your crushed velvet bed will remain a beautiful and cherished part of your home for years to come.

[bedsdivans64]

Crushed Velvet Double Bed: Luxurious Comfort for Your Bedroom

Introduction

Your bedroom is your personal sanctuary, and it deserves to be adorned with furniture that reflects your style and provides utmost comfort. When it comes to choosing a bed, the crushed velvet double bed stands out as a perfect combination of luxury, elegance, and functionality. In this article, we will explore the allure of crushed velvet double beds, their unique features, and why they are an excellent addition to any bedroom. From their plush texture to their durability and versatility, we will delve into the various aspects that make these beds a popular choice among homeowners.

Table of Contents

The Beauty of Crushed Velvet Beds

Unparalleled Comfort and Softness

Durable and Long-Lasting

Versatility and Style Options

Customization for Personal Taste

Health Benefits of a Comfortable Bed

Easy Maintenance and Cleaning

Perfect Fit for Various Bedroom Styles

Aesthetic Appeal and Timeless Elegance

Enhancing the Bedroom Ambience

The Affordable Luxury

Size Variations to Suit Your Needs

Factors to Consider Before Purchasing

Tips for Maintaining Your Crushed Velvet Bed

Conclusion

The Beauty of Crushed Velvet Beds

When it comes to aesthetics, crushed velvet beds exude a sense of luxury and opulence. The unique texture of crushed velvet fabric adds depth and dimension to the bed, creating a visually appealing focal point in your bedroom. The fabric's crushed appearance gives it a captivating sheen that catches the light, adding a touch of glamour to the overall ambiance.

Unparalleled Comfort and Softness

One of the primary reasons why crushed velvet double beds are favored by many is the unparalleled comfort they provide. The plush velvet fabric offers a velvety softness that invites you to sink into a cozy embrace each night. The cushioning effect of the fabric provides exceptional support for your body, ensuring a comfortable and restful sleep experience.

Durable and Long-Lasting

Crushed velvet double beds are not only visually appealing but also built to last. The fabric is known for its durability, making it resistant to wear and tear over time. With proper care, these beds can maintain their luxurious appearance for years, making them a worthwhile investment.

Versatility and Style Options

Another advantage of crushed velvet double beds is their versatility in terms of style. Whether you prefer a modern, contemporary look or a classic, traditional design, there is a wide range of options to choose from. From sleek and minimalist frames to elaborate and ornate designs, you can find a crushed velvet double bed that perfectly complements your personal style and bedroom decor.

Customization for Personal Taste

Crushed velvet double beds offer an opportunity for customization, allowing you to tailor the bed according to your preferences. From choosing the color of the fabric to selecting the bed frame design, you can create a bed that aligns with your unique taste and aesthetic vision. This level of personalization ensures that your bed becomes a true reflection of your style and adds a personal touch to your bedroom.

Health Benefits of a Comfortable Bed

A good night's sleep is essential for overall well-being, and a comfortable bed plays a crucial role in achieving that. The plushness of crushed velvet double beds promotes relaxation and relieves pressure points, reducing the risk of developing discomfort or body aches. By providing optimal support to your body, these beds contribute to a more restful and rejuvenating sleep experience.

Easy Maintenance and Cleaning

Contrary to popular belief, maintaining a crushed velvet double bed is not a tedious task. The fabric's smooth surface makes it easy to clean, and regular maintenance ensures its longevity. Simple practices like vacuuming, brushing, and spot cleaning can help keep your bed looking fresh and vibrant for years to come.

Perfect Fit for Various Bedroom Styles

Crushed velvet double beds seamlessly blend with different bedroom styles, making them a versatile choice for any interior decor. Whether your bedroom exudes a contemporary vibe or a traditional charm, these beds effortlessly complement the overall aesthetic, adding a touch of sophistication and elegance.

Aesthetic Appeal and Timeless Elegance

The aesthetic appeal of crushed velvet double beds is undeniable. The luxurious fabric instantly elevates the visual appeal of your bedroom, creating an atmosphere of elegance and refinement. Whether you opt for a vibrant jewel-toned bed or a neutral shade that exudes subtlety, the timeless elegance of crushed velvet adds a touch of grandeur to your space.

Enhancing the Bedroom Ambience

A bedroom is more than just a place to sleep; it should be a haven where you can unwind and relax. The presence of a crushed velvet double bed enhances the overall ambiance of your bedroom, creating a serene and inviting atmosphere. The luxurious feel of the fabric fosters a sense of indulgence, making your bedroom a sanctuary where you can escape the stresses of daily life.

The Affordable Luxury

While crushed velvet double beds exude luxury, they are surprisingly affordable, making them accessible to a wide range of homeowners. These beds offer a cost-effective way to add a touch of opulence and elegance to your bedroom without breaking the bank.

Size Variations to Suit Your Needs

Crushed velvet double beds are available in various sizes, ensuring that you can find the perfect fit for your space and sleeping preferences. Whether you need a standard double bed or a larger option like a king-size or super king-size bed, there is a size variation that suits your needs.

Factors to Consider Before Purchasing

Before investing in a crushed velvet double bed, there are a few factors to consider. These include the dimensions of your bedroom, the style and color scheme you desire, and your budget. By carefully assessing these factors, you can make an informed decision and choose a bed that fulfills your requirements.

Tips for Maintaining Your Crushed Velvet Bed

To keep your crushed velvet bed in pristine condition, follow these maintenance tips:

Regularly vacuum the fabric to remove dust and dirt particles.

Brush the fabric gently to maintain its plushness.

Address spills and stains promptly by spot cleaning with a mild detergent.

Avoid placing the bed in direct sunlight to prevent color fading.

Follow the manufacturer's care instructions for specific cleaning recommendations.

Conclusion

A crushed velvet double bed brings together luxury, comfort, and style in one elegant package. From its exquisite aesthetics to its unmatched softness and durability, this bed is a perfect addition to any bedroom. With its versatility and customization options, it effortlessly adapts to various interior decor styles, enhancing the overall ambiance of your space. Invest in a crushed velvet double bed, and transform your bedroom into a haven of comfort and opulence.

FAQs (Frequently Asked Questions)

1. Are crushed velvet double beds suitable for small bedrooms?

Yes, crushed velvet double beds come in various sizes, including options for smaller spaces. You can choose a size that fits your room dimensions.

2. Can I clean a crushed velvet double bed myself?

Yes, you can easily clean and maintain a crushed velvet double bed by following the recommended care instructions and using gentle cleaning methods.

3. Are crushed velvet beds prone to wrinkles?

Crushed velvet beds may develop

[frunishop]

The History and Evolution of Sleigh Beds

Sleigh beds are a type of bed with a distinctive curved headboard and footboard that resemble a sleigh or sled. They are typically made of wood and have a luxurious, elegant look. While sleigh beds are often associated with traditional or antique decor styles, there are many modern variations that incorporate sleeker designs and materials such as metal and leather.

The origins of the sleigh bed can be traced back to ancient Roman times when wealthy citizens would recline on couches that had curved headrests and footrests. These curved pieces were called "saccus," and they inspired the design of later sleigh beds.

In the 19th century, sleigh beds became popular in the United States and Europe as a luxurious and stylish alternative to traditional four-poster beds. The curved headboard and footboard were often adorned with intricate carvings and other decorative details, making sleigh beds a symbol of wealth and refinement.

Over time, sleigh beds have evolved to suit changing tastes and design trends. In the mid-20th century, for example, streamlined versions of sleigh beds were popularized by designers such as George Nelson and Charles and Ray Eames. These modern sleigh beds featured simple, clean lines and a minimalist aesthetic.

Today, sleigh beds continue to be a popular choice for those who want a statement piece for their bedroom. They are available in a wide variety of styles and materials, from classic wooden designs to more contemporary metal and leather versions. Many sleigh beds also feature practical features such as built-in storage or adjustable headboards. In conclusion, sleigh bed have a long and fascinating history that spans many centuries and cultures. While they have evolved over time to suit changing tastes and design trends, they remain a timeless and elegant choice for anyone looking to add a touch of luxury to their bedroom.

[eupheme]

The thought of 69ing with Logan seems like it'd be fun! Like he'd be especially teasing, making you moan around his cock, eating you out so well that you struggle to keep up with your end of it, teasing you for it. And I can see him giving your ass a playful slap during or after.

oh my god for sure! 👀💖 I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this, you are so right on the teasing. And I feel like this has to be Logan’s ultimate activity (besides fucking you into the mattress, of course) - getting to feel you drool around his cock while eating you out at the same time has to be a dream come true.

I hope it’s okay, I did a little drabble based on your ask! 💕

logan howlett x reader | 69 | 350 words

Logan’s stubble scrapes against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. Not even situated yet, knees still fitting into place on either side of his head - but he’s always been impatient.

Never could get enough. Hands around hooking around your thighs, fitting into that soft curve where they meet your hip. His name sighed out as his tongue meets your folds, before he’s even tugged you flush.

You moan, face buried against his hip. A hand curled loosely around his cock when you guide him into your mouth - trying to stay focused. Trying to ignore the way his tongue laps at your clit, tracing again and again over the tight bud.

His keen focus zeroed in to the sweet smell of you, how you bloom against his lips. Easy to lose himself - while you’re equally caught up in all of him.

Soaking in this pretty view you have. The breadth of his chest beneath you, the dark whorls of hair that trail down. Thighs that spread wider, feet flattening against the bed so his hips can cant upward into your mouth.

Pushing him deeper, feeling the way your throat closes around him. The buzz of a moan against your core, as he doubles his efforts.

Your mind clouds into bliss. Left panting, the rhythmic bob of your head going sloppy. His cock all but forgotten, left as a velvet weight against your tongue. A whine when the quick flick of his tongue goes lazy. Teeth against your thigh, a messy kiss against your cunt.

“Come on, sweetheart.” It’s growled out, laced with amusement, “Don’t tell me you’re done already.”

A hand cracking down against your ass, a flash of teasing pain flickering with pleasure.

You’re jolted into action - wanting to prove him wrong. Swallowing him down again the way he likes. You fist spit-slick where it works him, tugging him into your mouth. Tits crushed against his stomach as your other hand snakes down.

Cupping his sack. Gently squeezing, feeling the taut way they draw up with the soft suction of your mouth.

The ragged moan you pull from him sounds like triumph.

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ one hundred paired prompts 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

¹⁾ a pot of fresh coffee and split knuckles

²⁾ orange peels and a car battery

³⁾ sand dunes and leather boots

⁴⁾ a printer and a knife

⁵⁾ incense and handcuffs

⁶⁾ a crushed velvet sofa and a video camera

⁷⁾ stale cigarettes and cotton candy

⁸⁾ loose change and headlights

⁹⁾ grey hairs and a gold belt buckle

¹⁰⁾ burnt coffee and grass stains

¹¹⁾ cherry cola and blue jeans

¹²⁾ chipped green nail polish and an empty dinner table

¹³⁾ a stack of paperwork and metal music

¹⁴⁾ a patchwork quilt and sweet tea

¹⁵⁾ a hockey sweater and a two-seater sofa

¹⁶⁾ perfume oil and rolled up shirtsleeves

¹⁷⁾ fallen leaves and guilt

¹⁸⁾ radio channels and a birthday card

¹⁹⁾ ravens and meadowsweet

²⁰⁾ apologies and bitter red wine

²¹⁾ library books and pouring rain

²²⁾ a breathalyser and popcorn

²³⁾ princess plasters and iodine

²⁴⁾ a tote bag with one broken strap and a winding staircase

²⁵⁾ a parasol and a tumbler of straight whiskey

²⁶⁾ fresh honey and a cult

²⁷⁾ wisdom teeth and blue eyes

²⁸⁾ sour cherries and a stolen hoodie

²⁹⁾ the flu and a heatwave

³⁰⁾ a boonie hat and a sunset

³¹⁾ vanilla perfume and a kitchen counter

³²⁾ a buffalo skull and a leather armchair

³³⁾ a throw pillow and a doorway

³⁴⁾ pink fluffy handcuffs and an unexpected guest

³⁶⁾ a package and a divorce

³⁷⁾ a stripper pole and a hangover

³⁸⁾ familiar cologne and a black eye

³⁹⁾ a lit candle and a snowstorm

⁴⁰⁾ an unsealed letter and a fallen pine tree

⁴¹⁾ headlights and footprints

⁴²⁾ a blocked number and traffic lights

⁴³⁾ a racesuit and a countdown

⁴⁴⁾ a butcher’s apron and a phonecall

⁴⁵⁾ battered comic books and a broken window

⁴⁶⁾ cold floorboards and a roommate

⁴⁷⁾ smooth vermouth and gold rings

⁴⁸⁾ a lip piercing and a rough hand

⁴⁹⁾ someone’s spare room and an eclipse

⁵⁰⁾ a game of mahjong and bad jazz music

⁵¹⁾ a jigsaw puzzle and a mortuary

⁵²⁾ a broke-up sidewalk and a knitted scarf

⁵³⁾ a poundshop wig and broken glass

⁵⁴⁾ a bunk bed and a crush

⁵⁵⁾ a red ink tattoo and a dinner gone cold

⁵⁶⁾ a warm palm and a flannel shirt

⁵⁷⁾ fresh basil and a half-empty bottle of arrack

⁵⁸⁾ a nightclub bathroom and smeared eyeliner

⁵⁹⁾ a busted lip and strawberry icecream

⁶⁰⁾ a floral-patterned dress and a looming balcony

⁶¹⁾ peach pits and a pressed shirt collar

⁶²⁾ a white mercedes and cheap perfume

⁶³⁾ a fwb and a housekey

⁶⁴⁾ a blue sarong and a fingertip tracing over a scar

⁶⁵⁾ a sauna room and a terse exchange

⁶⁶⁾ fried plantains and a briefcase

⁶⁷⁾ dried lavender and a tiled bathtub

⁶⁸⁾ a hotel room and a bouquet of lilies

⁶⁹⁾ sweet mango lassi and a suitcase

⁷⁰⁾ orange streetlights and a nightmare

⁷¹⁾ a crucifix and a thigh tattoo

⁷²⁾ a palm tattoo and the thrum of a heartbeat

⁷³⁾ a champagne room and a police siren

⁷⁴⁾ blue nitrile gloves and a hickey

⁷⁵⁾ a double-wide trailer and shotgun shells

⁷⁶⁾ stitches and pyjama shorts

⁷⁷⁾ karaoke and a snowdrift

⁷⁸⁾ an older man and a twin bed

⁷⁹⁾ chinese takeout and a graveyard

⁸⁰⁾ wet clothes and ambulance sirens

⁸¹⁾ carbolic soap and a creaking staircase

⁸²⁾ an undercover assignment and wrung hands

⁸³⁾ the back seat of a limousine and bustling night streets

⁸⁴⁾ a steamed-up bathroom and cold floorboards

⁸⁵⁾ a grand prix and a breakup

⁸⁶⁾ a third place trophy and a picture frame

⁸⁷⁾ the last slice of birthday cake and crossed legs

⁸⁸⁾ squashed raspberries and heated cheeks

⁸⁹⁾ pink lipgloss and brass knuckles

⁹⁰⁾ a ghost mask and a late visit

⁹¹⁾ loose bullets and slashed tires

⁹²⁾ a tactical belt and patterned bedsheets

⁹³⁾ a goaltender’s stick and a lonely walk home

⁹⁴⁾ a dog bed and a migraine

⁹��⁾ lit billboards and a floor-length gown

⁹⁶⁾ a divebar negroni and a game of pool

⁹⁷⁾ olive trees at harvest time and divorce papers

⁹⁸⁾ a caviar bump and vanilla coke

⁹⁹⁾ a whale tail and pantsuit

¹⁰⁰⁾ legs thrown into a lap and calloused hands

[jay-m3]

Charlie and Vaggie

This is a male reader insert! Charlie and Vaggie become parents This would be before the pilot, so there isn't any other characters beside them. Hope you like it! I was also wondering if I should make one for the Vees. All three of them handling a toddler is a cute image in my head idk what do you guys think? If so, how should proceed it? Should Velvet be the biological mother or should I do a Baby Daddy on Vox lol

Pilot Part 1 Episode 1

It was time. It was time for the baby to come! And Vaggie was not ready for it but she isn't going to show it because if she does then who's going to calm down Charlie who's running around the empty, trashy hotel for a warm bucket of water that they will need for this specific moment.

Vaggie bites down a pained groan as the contractions start to double the amount and pain.

"Shit." She slowly breathes out. Running a hand through her hair that grew longer over the past months with the pregnancy.

"Ok! I got the water. Now where are my gloves? Are these the clean towels that we recently washed? Omg, did we buy enough diapers!?-" Charlie starts to grip her hair as her horns start to protrude from her head.

"Charlie, babe. We have everything here. We double checked and got more supplies after we thought we'll be in lock down for at least two months. Now, can you calm down and please hold my hand?" Vaggie interrupts Charlie's rambling as it would lead to a panic attack. Usually, Vaggie would calm her down with sweet words and gentle touches but right now, the pain she is feeling can't make her focus on anything but the pain.

"Right! Sorry. How are you doing Vaggie? Need water?" Charlie kneels on the bed, taking a hold of the woman she loves dearly. When they first met, Charlie thought it was love at first sight. They both gave hints such as fleeting touches and lingering eyes until it turned more intimate that they got together. It was magical really.

Until they hit their five months into their relationship, Vaggie started to act differently. Vomiting in the morning, craving weird things (Charlie didn't point out because she loves Vaggie too much to judge her) and sleeping a lot. They both brushed it off until Vaggie mentioned how her stomach is getting bigger. Which also took them a little bit longer to notice but they got there.

Charlie of course told her dad, well not told him per-say but a small comment about how to prepare for a baby and such which her father answered awkwardly and fast paced as she's sure she guessed he didn't want to talk about this kind of stuff to his daughter that he hasn't seen for a few years now. And she's pretty sure he forgot all about it the next phone call he made as he asks for Charlie to check on how many sinners died in the last extermination.

But all in all, Lucifer hasn't connected the dots and now Charlie is here alone, taking care of Vaggie and ready to secure the baby once it's fully out. She is so fucking happy! She's going to make this Happy Hotel a family business! Just the three of them.

"I don't want to alarm but I think the baby is coming out right now." Vaggie huffs out gripping on Charlie's hand with all her might as her body pushes.

"Oh god, ok! Just keep pushing. I have everything ready, sweetheart. You're doing great!" Charlie wheezes out the last bit as her hand gets crushed. Shaking the pain off, Charlie drags a towel over, ready.

It took at least an hour of Vaggie screaming in pain and profanities that finally, Charlie places their child down in Vaggie's arms.

"It's a boy." Charlie whispers excitedly, doing a little happy wiggle as she looks at her girlfriend and son together.

Vaggie smiles tiredly, muttering out a 'Never again.' Which Charlie volunteers to be the next one to get pregnant.

"You know what name I'm thinking?" Vaggie mutters out as she hands the baby boy that has her grey skin but the two red dots on his face along with blonde hair that he got has Charlie written all over it. Charlie snaps out of her awe trance at the baby, looking at Vaggie with a big smile.

"(M/n)." They both said at the same time, leaning on each other as they looked at their son.

[lgwifey]

Homesick Part Two

“Good enough for London”

human!Fem!reader x platonic!EdwardCullen

summary : Y/n’s dad had been given a new job offer, meaning she had to drag herself half way across the world to a town that shame was positive rained more than London had.

Part One

Y/n woke up the next day at 6:30 am, determined to beat jet lag and also needing to prepare for waking up early again in a few days when the schools started up.

Today's jobs where a bit easier than yesterdays, having her little schedule wrote up that's she'd scribbled down and then rewrote out pretty on the plane. She was already ahead of yesterday, having only thought she would have enough time to make her bed. Luckily the flat pack furniture was a bit easier than she expected it to be.

She started the day by unpacking the parcels of bedding that she'd ordered to the house before they'd moved over. She'd opened the duvet, pillows and mattress topper last night and left them to air out overnight to save half the day today being wasted.

Her light pink, crushed velvet ottoman bed sat just slightly not on the wall, a small bedside table sat between in and the bedroom wall, a medium sized window starting at the end of the bed. Y/n would be the first to mention her lack of strength, which meant the first job of dragging the double mattress topper onto the bed took longer than it would've for most. She dragged on a black satin bedsheet before standing on the bed with the duvet and the dark red cover, using all her height to try and make the process easier.

Soon enough the teenager managed to wrangle the bed all together, folding the spare sets of bedding and dropping them to the corner of one of the ottoman draws.

Black satin pillows were thrown at the headboard of the bed, then the blood red duvet and then a bundle of cushions that Y/n usually ended up kicking off the bed before she slept anyway. The whole bed was pulled together with a leopard print throw blanket that matched her large leopard print fuzzy rug which her dad had  picked up from a store in Seattle for her before she arrived.

The only furniture left to put together was the eight-ball beanbags she'd bought.

Once she'd admitted defeat and accepted that she was being moved to Forks Washington whether she liked it or not, she'd decided she was going to go all out on her bedroom and outfits. Plus, her parents felt horrible for moving her so she'd managed to get a few bonuses.

Kicking the leather beanbags into a corner, Y/n moved into the cardboard boxes for her home in London. She'd been convinced to get rid of most of her possessions by her mother. The words "you can always just buy new things when we get there" were going to be burned into her brain for a very long time.

The two boxes were carefully wiped of dust and unsealed with the scissors she'd left on her desk from yesterday.

It was just a few nicknacks, she didn't hold attachments to many things so the little she kept from England were carefully placed on the empty bookshelf in the corner. A few rolled up posters, a few book collections that her grandmother had gave her before the move, a few ornaments that she'd had from a baby and a few she'd found in charity shops and her prized CD collection and player.

It was quite a quick job, well it would've been if she didn't get distracted by the ornamental bells that she was organising for a solid twenty minutes.

After leaving her landline, a dark red lip phone, on her desk as a reminder to get her father to set it up when he got back from work, Y/n realised that if she wanted to get into some public appropriate clothes and do her makeup to go food shopping, she'd need to start unpacking her suitcases.

She let out a huff before flipping backwards onto her bed, the fresh covers crumbling around her tired body.

Her LED digital clock sat on her wall beside her bed, reading a miserable 11:46. Her friends wouldn't even be awake for at least another 4 hours.

Once again, she pushed herself to the large, hot pink suitcases that had been left behind her door when she arrived.

☆

When Harriet Grey went to go and check on her daughter in the morning, well nearly afternoon, she expected to find her daughter dying from jet lag like her, face still buried in her pillows and room still looking uninhabited.

Instead she found the girl with her face passed out in a half unpack suitcase.

The pyjama clad woman slowly shuffled over to where Y/n was sprawled up. Most of her wardrobe had been hung on hangers and place in the small walk-in wardrobe built into the bedroom. Her vanity had been organised with all her makeup, some of the draws left opening for Harriet to peek into.

"Y/n? Sweetie?"

Harriet had started to think that Y/n had suffocated on the socks her face had landed on, starting to leave to call an ambulance when she caught the crack caused by her daughter stretching her hand.

☆

"You don't think it's all... too much ?"

Y/n looked up from the zips on her pointed, heeled boots to where her mother stood with a worried expression plastered on her features.

"If it was good enough for London then it's good enough for this crummy little town."

The younger girl scrunched her features up as she finished zipping the boots that finished just before her knees, pressing down the fabric of the black micro mini dress as she stood up from the step she was balancing on.

"Well, the populations quite a lot smaller than London here Y/n."

She was met with a blank expression from her daughter, the girl flicking her hair over her shoulders as she shifted the leather blazer over her shoulders, moving to check her mobile was in her cherry red purse before they left the house for the food shop they desperately needed.

"That means that people talk. A lot."

"Mother. If everyone was scared of people talking about them Vivienne Westwood wouldn't have made it out of Chelsea. Now let's go shopping, last nights pizza was the start of a health kick for me."

The girl gagged slightly, forgetting how awful she felt after the grease dish, forced an end to the conversation with a dramatic hand clap, leaving the large and empty house to the driveway where her mother's shiny new Mercedes sat.

Behind her followed her mother, a tut and an eye roll as the older woman locked the double doors to the large, white panelled house. A bright flash of the lights told Y/n that the car was unlocked, leaving her to pull the passenger side door open and slide into the immaculate interior.

The drive to the grocery shop was much longer than Y/n had expecting.

"Another reason we should've stayed in England, everything's less spread out."

"Everything's more compact in London, the distance between places here is just a bit refreshing. You've got some lovely views here, and less air pollution. I know you value that."

The teenager rolled her eyes, slouching back into the seat more. "I also value my shoes and if I were to walk this distance their soles would be completely worn out."

Harriet bit her lip, a nervous habit she'd developed since she had to start convincing her daughter that the move was a good idea a year ago. "Did you know you can learn how to drive earlier here ?"

"I already know how to drive, dad taught me so I could pass as soon as I turn 17."

"Well then you can sit it as soon as me and your father find a driving teacher ."

The pale blonde woman gave a tight lipped smile, turning her head to focus back on the empty stretch of road.

"Yeah dad's already done that. I've got a test on Sunday so I can pass before school starts, it's way easier than the UK one too."

"Gave much thought to what car you want ? It seems like everyone here has trucks."

Y/n held back a snort at her mother's face at the mention of the popular vehicle around here. It was quite obvious that she didn't want a big pick up sat outside her new home.

"I was actually thinking about the new Audi a4 convertibles. Kate's sister got a silver one last year but they're bringing a red one out."

Harriet caught the begging stare that the miniature self was giving her in the corner of her eye. A unnoticed breath left her at the relief of not having a box with wheels next to her prized Mercedes .

"I'm sure your father could manage that one."

Part Three

Masterlist

[nefkyo]

Writing In The Sand

a c!TNTduo/quackbur fic (and my first official fanfic ever) where c!Wilbur meets c!Quackity before the ending of their S1 lore, but things don't go according to plan. At all.

I don't know how tagging works, but this fic contains:

Spoilers for c!Quackity's an c!Wilbur lore finale, mentions of alcohol, hungover antics, miscommunication?, I don't have it in me to write smut rn but there is pre-marital kissing, fluff but also angst, I'm still not sure if I want a sad or happy ending so don't count on it, a single mention of c!Tommy's lore and overall a lot of flashbacks

Chapter 1 (1/?)

Wilbur stirs awake, head bobbed to the side, horrible weights crushing the sides of his temples. He shifts onto a bed that is too luscious to recognize as his own. The velvet blankets underneath him are too light to be the ones you'd use in a warm house in the middle of the snow.

He didn't go home. He stayed. Fuck.

He sits up on his elbows and pinches his eyebrows, and realizes his glasses are missing. He snaps his head around, feeling the bedsheets in the relative darkness. The only light seems to be coming from curtains that were left a single clumsy ray of light filter in the room. Which was huge. As was the bed. And the window. Fuuuuck.

His fingers wrapped around something new. They were definitely not his glasses. It was something light and nimble, soft but not as much as the stuffing of a pillow, and it seemed to move on its own. Whatever it was attached to also shifted and made an almost human noise that resembled a grumble of discomfort, and Wilbur realized he was holding Quackity's tail. And his other hand was resting clumsily on a wing.

Quackity. Quackity was sleeping next to him.

FFFUUUUUUUCK.

He basically leapt off the bed. His heart and his brain were running two, maybe three marathons at once. What his he doing there? What is he doing here? And what now, should he wake him up? No, he couldn't. Not yet, at least. For some reason, he felt he needed to see him first. Was it out of spite? Out of pride? ...Affection?

Flashes of images from the night before were already seeping in. Sand being strangely cold in his fist. A pile of empty glasses, ice melting slowly inside. Elaborate drinks and straight vodka. Quackity's eyes glinting up at him before both tastes blend in his mouth.

As he staggered towards the drawn curtains, he bumped into his own shoes. He also realized the lower half of his body was still clothed, socks included. He checked his pockets and sure enough, his glasses were tucked in there, miraculously intact. He opened the temple tips and placed them on his head.

He peeked out behind the curtain. He wasn't afraid of heights, his father basically uprooted the fear out of him, but holy shit they were high up. He could see all of Las Nevadas from there. The sky over the sandy hills and still dormant city was grey. It must've been midday already.

From the window, he spots the lavish bar he found Quackity in some ridiculous time at night. He hadn't drank anything yet, just kept picking at a plate of olives with a toothpick. Which he threatened him with as he sat down two seats away from him.

He turned around, hand slowly pulling back the curtain just enough. And he looked out in awe.

Quackity was barely more dressed than him, resting on his side. His right arm was drooped over his head, on which he was shocked not to find the infamous beanie. He spotted it on the floor, right below his flabby left hand. And his wings, oh my god, his wings were splayed out, hanging with some sort of grace over his body. It almost seemed his left wing was shielding him from the light like a veil of protection.

He now remembers the dancing. They were enough drinks and chatter in that Quackity had stopped holding everything like it could double as a weapon, and had decided to take him to the lounges a few steps from the bar, holding a bottle of gin and two glasses in the same hand. The whole place was empty except for the two of them, and they sat on these velvet couches next to a jukebox. "You want to pick something? Go ahead." Quackity asked him, sat on the couch in front of him. "Hm, I dunno." he replied, realizing he'd been staring at it. "It feels kind of weird to look at music discs that hold no meaning for the first time in a while, doesn't it?" he chuckled, and strangely enough, Quackity did as well. He stood up and picked a disc himself. He doesn't remember what the song was, maybe he was more focused on watching Quackity miraculously untense. It was gradual enough you couldn't tell he was very into it at first, but at some point he just let loose. It reminded him of Niki's birthday party, except there was no party to entertain. It was just the two of them. He remembers Quackity pulling him in to dance as well, and the song shifting to something softer that brought his hands to his waist, and Quackity's on his shoulders. It was intimate. It was pretty.

Wilbur snapped out of it, realizing he might've woken up if he kept shining light on him. A thought he hoped his hungover mind would've repressed for just one more minute. "Today is the day." he whispered to himself. He sighed and let go of the curtain.

Guided by what he had memorized of his surroundings he came across his sweater, discarded carelessly on a chair, then his shirt at the foot of the bed. Both reeked of alcohol, but so did he, and it's not like he knew his way around wherever he was enough to find a washing machine. He did, however, find the bathroom.

He squinted his eyes at the flash of the light above, and barely cared to notice how immaculate the whole place was. He held onto the marble bowl of the sink with both hands and looked in the mirror: saying he looked more dead than he already was would've been an understatement. He washed himself up as best as he could and drank so, so much tap water.

As he was about to close the door, he noticed a 'Do Not Disturb' sign hanging on the doorknob. He looked up and noticed a golden plate with the number 801. He was in the hotel! And it was as expensive as it looked from the outside, judging by the tidiness and faint smell of cologne permeating the hall. Wilbur prayed he had any money left in his coat, wherever he'd lost it, and also to find a spare key downstairs when the door ungracefully slipped out of his grip and locked him out. (Quackity definitely had the original somewhere on his person, but the chances of waking him up were too high.)

He took the elevator down to the ground floor ("holy shit, it goes up to 17?!") and reached an immense reception. Initially, he was surprised to see people already awake, until he noticed they were all employees. All smiling, dressed in pristine uniforms, carrying serviette trays, luggage and cleaning products. Not an actual customer in sight. It only came to him as he was reaching the front desk that he was also the only human in sight. Behind the desk was something green and slick, shaped like a man with a wide smile, who immediately met his eyes and greeted him with a half-screamed "Good afternoon, Wilbur Soot from L'Manberg!", almost giving him a heart attack.

Now he remembers why he was never the one to order anything at the bar. Because the bartender - who looked exactly like the receptionist, by the way - was a tall slimey abomination who only responded to Quackity's requests. When he asked about it, Quackity said something about "an experiment" and being short on staff. And people in Las Nevadas in general. He does remember Quackity drunkenly telling one "And start listening to the customers too, goddamn it! He's been here this whole time and I had to order and do everything for both!"

"Y-Yes, uhm, good afternoon." Wilbur answered, clearing his throat as he glanced up at the huge metal clock. Sure enough, it was 12:39 PM. "Lunch will be served in approximately 21 minutes, Mr. Soot." the receptionist said without even looking at the clock. "N-no... That's not what I was looking for..." "Well, what can we do for you, Mr. Soot?" he responded without missing a beat. Wilbur placed his hands on the mahogany counter, which he could almost see his own reflection in, and tentatively asked "See, I seem to have lost my coat somewhere... It's a brown--" "Ah! Not to worry Mr. Soot, it's right here!" the receptionist exclaimed again. And without ever breaking eye contact, he reached in a compartment underneath the counter and pulled out his jacket, neatly folded inside a plastic wrapping and, even more surprisingly, clean. "You dropped it as you and Quackity from Las Nevadas were making your way up the stairs!"

"We took the stairs?" he asked mindlessly as he discretely checked his coat's pockets (no, not a sign of cash).

"Sure did! As you came in last night, you said you needed to steady your legs because you couldn't feel them, so Mr Quackity from Las Nevadas helped you walk until you reached the 3rd floor, where you shouted 'I am NOT walking up 7 more bloody flights of stairs, Big Q!' and finally took the elevator!"

Wilbur didn't know if he was cringing at the receptionist's horrible impression of a British accent or his retelling of his drunk antics. "...Right, uhm... So, I also came down to ask--" "Would you like some water and aspirins? Still on Mr. Quackity's tab, not to worry!" the man whispered with a ridiculously forced wink, probably an attempt to be friendly. So he's paying for everything and NOTHING, since he owns the place. Wilbur nodded, and as the receptionist finally broke eye contact with him to reach into the mini fridge behind him, he asked "Do you also have, uhm... A spare room key?" and watched in horror as the receptionist completely turned his head to face him like an owl. "Of course! Room 801, was it? I have it right here!"

After the nearly traumatic experience at the reception, Wilbur rushed back to the room and opened the door carefully. More light was seeping into the room by the minute. Quackity was now sleeping on his back, almost completely splayed on the bed. Again, Wilbur had to tell himself to focus. He poured himself a glass of water with an aspirin from the expensive bottle, then placed another with the same fizzling medicine on Quackity's nightstand. He scavenged for the man's missing clothing pieces and folded them as best as he could, sometimes looking back at him. He didn't have much time, but he still decided to leave a note. He consistently cursed himself under his breath as he struggled to write coherent sentences on the back of a hotel visiting card. He settled on the message and put it against the glass.

Alright, time to go.

He glanced down at Quackity. His relaxed face, with his lips slightly ajar. And his hair, a complete mess. He remembers running his hands through it. Very silky.

Start moving. You have to go.

And a vision came to him, of how they helped unbutton each other's shirts and traced lines over the scars and stitches. And how how beautiful it was that someone who had just as much history on his body knew exactly how to touch them, caress them, kiss them. And--

He wouldn't want you to stay anyway.

Someone knocked at the door. Wilbur rushed to open it, and sure enough, it was another one of those slimy things, this time in a ridiculous maid outfit. "Good afternoon, Wilbur Soot from L'Manberg! I am here to clean the room!" the maid announced way too loudly, and Wilbur shushed it. "Mr Quackity is still sleeping. Let him wake up on his own." he whispered, and the maid simply answered "Okay Mr Soot." with a surprisingly soft voice. Wilbur closed the door behind them slowly. Knowing he had no reason to open it again left a bitter taste in his mouth. The maid asked "Where are you going by yourself, Mr Soot?", to which he simply responded "Home" before disappearing down the stairs.

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[baeklination]

A Wish: Wedtime Stories

Date: 220702

Warnings: SMUT 🔞, general fucking, gen.expl.lang.

Pairing: Baekhyun x F. Reader

WC: 3k

NOTE: From Anon: "Can you please write wedding night with Baekhyun?" Since it's a "wedding piece" I made the intro a little longer than usual and there's obviously a bit of sweetness in there as well. Hope you enjoy it..!

Masterlist

¤¤

Baekhyun had touched your hand and pointed to the bouquet.

“Oh…”

The little note - “for the soon to be Mrs.” - was still on it, so you carefully took it off and put it in your pocket. It had been delivered the same morning, from the neighbour upstairs since he knew you were going down to the courthouse today. With no families to speak of it had in so many ways always just been the two of you so deciding on a simple ceremony came easy. People say the wedding day is the happiest day of your life, but no - with Baekhyun every day would be the happiest; even up until this morning your thoughts had been about being, not getting, married. Then suddenly, as you took your dress off the hanger, you became nervous. Giddy. It wouldn’t be much to the average person, this mint green dress in crushed velvet you found at the thrift shop, but to you it held all the brightness you could see in him and you couldn’t believe your luck when seeing the tag read 17$.

You couldn’t hold your laughter in when the little grandpa played “Here Comes the Bride” on his keyboard as you entered the room. When Baekhyun gave him the thumbs up, the beige sleeve of his suit was so far down you could barely see his finger; a testament to it being borrowed, not bought or rented. It had been a quick affair, but nonetheless lovely, and riding the bus back home, spinning the ring on your finger, you already felt different.

“It’s weird.”

“No, it’s not…”

Even though you bought the table ages ago you always have dinner by the TV, sitting on the floor, not across from each other like this. Slurping down a spoonful of the tofu stew, Baekhyun’s eyes wander to the living area.

“Yes, it’s weird”, he concedes. Taking your hand, by the looks of it getting ready for a skit, he continues. “But we’re married now, this is the life we have to lead…chaa… Our fun days are over, Mrs. Byun. And, oh, look..! It’s already past seven, we better get ready for bed.” 

“Ugh, can you imagine..!”

“I’m kinda hoping we will…”

After three days of sleeping apart (him on the couch) and no acts of romance (aside from kissing) Baekhyun doesn't have to further explain what he means. 

“We have to drink the-”

“Right!”, he smiles and claps his hands, remembering the bottle of prosecco your manager gifted you. “In the bedroom? Before sealing our nuptial vows..? Eh?”

“Oh, you speak so scandalously, Mr. Byun…”

And the truth is even though this won’t be the first time you have sex it feels different. Sure, partly because of the no touch-rule, but there’s also the glittering sheen of wedding night surrounding it and the jitters of what Baekhyun will say about your attire. Not having much money meant you hardly spent any on new things and certainly not on these kinds of things.

“I’m gonna change. I…um, I got something…”

“For…” He blinks, and thinks. “...the bedroom?”

Fancy underwear costs a pretty penny so you started saving up as soon as you set a date, but even so you kept going back-and-forth when you got to the store until finally, sternly telling yourself “You’re allowed to want to look nice and feel special on your wedding day” and spent the money you’d saved for that very reason.

It certainly feels different. You run your hands down the soft silk of the white nightgown to the stockings beneath and double check that the garter doesn’t peek through when you take a step then open the bathroom door with butterflies in your stomach.

“Baekhyun?”

“Yeah?”

“Close your eyes, okay?... Okay?”

“They’re closed, promise”, he calls from the bedroom.

When you come to the doorway you see you’re not the only one who’s changed; now in his pyjama pants he lies on his back, eyes diligently shut and hands clasped together over his stomach. Standing in front of the bed you tell him:

“Okay, open.”

Sitting up with a jerk he smacks his lips.

“Oh! W…Wow…” He smiles shyly as he gets up, but stops his hands from touching you. “You’re not returning it..?”

“No. Do you like it?”

He opens his mouth as if to say something, but ends up only humming, nodding, while he puts his hands on your waist.

“Ouh, why am I so nervous? I feel like a virgin, I don’t know what to do”, he chuckles, gracing his hands over your shoulders, your hair.

“Kiss me, maybe?”

“Mm.”

Sliding his hand onto your neck, brushing his thumb over your earlobe, he bends down and puts his lips to yours. At first it’s gentle as though marking the occasion, but soon you feel the wet inside of his lips, then his tongue. You grab him firmly by the waist and his murmur teases a fire between your legs, helped by the way he clutches on the fabric of your dress.

“If we don’t chug that thing now”, he sighs and takes your hand.

“Chug? It’s top quality, we have to enjoy it.”

“You’re the only top quality I care about enjoying right now.”

 Since it’s not fully dark outside, he’s put the blinds down and the two candles he lit by the window helps with a splash of romance. Handing over one of the glasses he sits down on the bed as well.

“A toast… To Mrs. Byun.”

“And Mr., no…you still have the same name, it’s not as new and exciting.”

“That’s because you’re mine, all mine. Come here.”

He puts his arms around your back for support when you sit on his lap, then twitches as if he’s suddenly realised something. Studying your face he almost looks melancholy, yet reassured.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

The clink of your glasses breaks the seriousness and if not that then the bitter bubbles hitting your palates would’ve. Scrunching his face, he puts his glass on the nightstand again and yours after that.

His taste is indistinguishable from yours but his touch isn’t. When his hand goes over your knee your abdomen twirls and when his fingers go under the dress, touching your bare skin it beats. When his fingertips come in contact with the garter he pulls away from your lips and lifts your skirt.

“This too? Oh, what kind of a naughty devil did I marry?”, he purrs, tugging on your bottom lip. He pulls your gown over your head and throws it on the edge of the bed then pats the mattress. “I think cosy time is over.”

“You know I always think you look great, but…uh, tonight…”, he groans in your ear as he pushes his pelvis against you.

When you put your hands under his trousers they meet his skin instead of boxers which explains why his hard-on is so distinct between your legs. He lifts up to let you push his pants below his cheeks then you grip his cock, stroking the taut skin over the head.

“Ah…” Resting his forehead against yours he breathes with a tremor. “I’ve missed your hands.”

You’ve missed feeling him in your hand, the beating anticipation of knowing he’ll soon push himself into you, growing thicker the deeper he goes. As if reading your mind he gets up and takes his pants off completely, then rolls down your stockings one at a time. Smiling, he puts his teeth to the garter and pulls it down as well. Putting his fingers under the hem of your underwear he gives you a kiss right above:

“Are you ready to consummate our marriage?”

“Not if you say it like that…”, you answer, putting your hand over his in jest.

He takes a long breath then sighs it out, brushing his nose against the fabric over your clit:

“How should I say it, then..?”

“Like that.”

After pulling them off and tossing them to the side he wastes no time laying down. He happily lets you tug at his hair when he presses his mouth to yours, searching for your entrance with the head of his cock. Finding it, he pushes without hesitation, making the pair of you catch your breath. It feels like he’s grown, like he’s even more luscious than four days ago and unbelievably sexy rolling his pelvis to stretch you out, jutting his jaw like that.

“Oh-hh… wife feels different…ah…”

With his hand on your hip he presses his length in with precise, smooth waves, giving away how much he’s missed you by his various sounds of satisfaction. Putting his forearms on your sides, he aligns his body with yours and keeps rolling. A smile flashes in his eyes right before he presses his wet lips to yours. His kisses are sticky and outdrawn, teasing your senses the same way his cock teases flutters around your entrance and inside as it glides back and forth. When you run your hands down his back and stroke his cheeks he thrusts a little harder and faster, grabbing onto your shoulder, breathing in your ear, but soon presses deep and stops moving. He exhales heavily.

“This…agh…might not take long…”, he chuckles.

You press him even closer, digging your fingers into his cheeks.

“I’m not worried.”

As if he never stopped his pace is the same when he starts bucking again, pressing you down into the mattress with energetic thrusts.

“That’s right…”, he pants behind your ear “...ah-h…we have all night…”

The closer he gets, the more sensitive he becomes, making every stroke a burst of incomparable pleasure; his stunted yelps ring clear as a bell dripping honey next to you. 

“Uh-hh…” His grip on your shoulder tightens. The air gets stuck in his throat and he pushes his head against yours. “Ah, f-”

The neighbours will think he’s hurt the way he wails in satisfactory agony while he repeatedly rams his cock as far as it’ll go, making sure every last drop of cum is emptied out of him into you.

His stomach presses down heavily on yours as he gasps for air.

“Sh…shit…”

After swallowing hard he sighs, rocking his forehead against yours, then caresses your cheek.

“Mmm…”, he hums, kissing you. “Wife really is different… Christ…”

¤

“Just so you know…”, Baekhyun says and rolls to his side. “...we’re never doing this again. This no sex thing.”

“Why would we? But come on, it was three days. It can’t have been that hard, B.”

“Babe…I’ve never pushed into you that easily…”, he muses, stroking your cheek, knowing he’s right.

“No, that was just because I had that drink. You know it woosh, went straight to my head and got me loose.”

“Mm, I bet. Either way. I swear, yesterday I almost caved.”

“The day before?”

“Because it was the day before. When I was lying out there I kept thinking tomorrow, tomorrow… I was so goddamn hard, when I squeezed my cock…I kept imagining how it’d feel to put my hand around it and pump.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Honestly? B..? I won’t be mad, it’s over anyway.”

“I didn’t. Baby, I swear”, he insists, pulling you in for a cuddle on his chest.

Doing nothing special, sometimes talking, at times being quiet, you feather your fingers on his body. He doesn’t react when you run them along his length, but you know he thinks it feels nice when you casually touch him like this. You remember something and laugh to yourself.

“What..?”

“No, I…When I put them on, the clothes, for a second I was like… When you were a kid, playing in the woods or taking a shortcut, did you sometimes see pages from a magazine, like-”

“Wait… Oh! I’d completely forgot..!”, he exclaims excitedly.

“You know what I mean..!”

“Yeah, from nudie mags, right?”

“M-hm! They’d be all beaten up or torn, but you could clearly see what it was.”

Baekhyun fills the room with his warm, full-bodied laughter.

“That’s what you think you looked like..?” 

“For a second! It reminded me of it, how they always wore white underwear, stockings and all that, you know.”

His chest billows under your head when he silently giggles about your thoughts and probably the memory itself. When he goes quiet you notice his cock is starting to move upwards under your fingertips and he strokes your arm.

“You…Is it something you wanna try, maybe..?”

“Is it something you wanna try, Baekhyun?”

When you look up at him he also turns, looking to the corner of the room with his lips pursed. Making a show of it, you sigh deeply and grab him firmly by the root and move your hand up and down.

“I guess not…”

Tightening his grips around your arm while softly bucking his hips into your hand, he whispers over your head:

“I think you should.”

¤

The second go of you wearing your lingerie might not be as filled with romance - sitting up resting on your arms with Baekhyun leaning over between your legs - but the way he moves from kissing your neck to sliding the straps off and sucking on your nipples makes up for it. It’s not intentional but the way you comb through his hair while he sucks almost makes you feel like one of the women in those magazines; faintly moaning as you feel your panties getting wet. Slowly, with richness, he kisses you, eager to continue.

“Touch me”, he moans over your lips.

He’s so close that his balls brush against you when you pump and it turns you on even more, so when he pulls your panties to the side he doesn’t have to say anything before you steer his cock down to your entrance. Your husband is the perfect fit the way he fills you up, pressing your walls aside just right with his slow bucking until you completely let him in.

Barely moving anything else than his hips he roughly smacks them against yours to get his cock as deep in as possible. The sheets underneath your hands move as he pulls at them with his clutching fingers and his hair becomes a tangled mess rubbing against your neck. From the sound of his moans you can tell he’s biting his lip before releasing it along with a burning burst of air. Spreading your legs even wider to receive everything he’s giving, you moan:

“Don’t stop…”, putting your hand on his neck.

“Are you gonna come?”, he whispers stickingly, pulling your underwear more to the side.

Putting all fingers on your pussy he rubs, quickly sliding back and forth over your clit as he continues to pound his cock in and out, breathing heavily from exertion and arousal. You feel every millimetre as it rises closer and closer until spilling over into spasming thighs, clutching fingers and whines.

Baekhyun doesn’t stop or let you breathe. He eases up on the pace and circles his fingers slowly, but doesn’t stop while he greedily pushes his tongue onto yours, humming forcefully. His circling makes you twitch, but the hazy line between pain and pleasure is heavenly.

“Lie down…”

Without sliding out he gets in position; coming up close he raises your legs, holding tightly on your thighs. It catches you off guard when he starts thrusting. You hear both the smack of your bodies and the wet impact of your fluids being pushed out over your gasp as you rush to grab onto the sheets above.

He was already well on his way when you came, so after an apologetic wink, running his hand through his hair, he shifts his attention. Dropping his jaw, knitting his brows, he’s entranced by the image of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy with the panties next to it. He pounds and pounds, then a twitch runs through his body making him groan and shut his eyes tight.

“Ah, fuck…”, he whispers, then releases an airy wail and frenetically rolls, grinds his groin against you, emptying himself. “Ah...chh…ahh.”

¤ 

After gathering strength Baekhyun goes to the kitchen and comes back with a pitcher of juice and a proud smile on his face.

“I knew we had one carton left. Let’s mix it with the bubbly and make a packlist.”

You’re only gonna be away for two days and one night, but preparing for it is exciting anyway; scribbling down clothes, tickets and reservation numbers to remember - and the juice blended out your drinks enough to make it enjoyable while keeping the celebratory feel.

“Don’t forget we have to buy film for the camera.”

“Mm, if we get off at Westfield there’s a store there, not far from the station. Then…” Fiddling with the sheet in front of him, he makes his eyes big and round.

“Then what..?”

“If you take those new clothes maybe we could-”

“Ha! That's all you care about now..!”

“Yes!”, he teases, placing a kiss on your cheek. “You bought it ‘cus you wanted me to look, didn’t you..?”

“You… What kind of naughty devil did I marry?”

“Just trying to make the most of our honeymoon”, he shines brightly, then sighs as he takes your fingers in his hand. “I really wish I could’ve gotten three days off like you.”

“Me too. But two is better than none and I don’t know if they have much else than the zoo up there anyway.”

“Close your eyes!”, he suddenly bursts out.

“Why?”

“Why? I did it right away when you told me to.”

“Okay. But if something starts poking me…”

You can tell he’s getting off the bed by the shifting and his laugh moving away, then you hear him opening the closet door.

“Okay”, he declares, sitting down next to you.

In front of you lies a tiny box in red velvet, the lid open to show a pair of heart-shaped earrings in gold - the very ones you’d stop to dream about when you passed the window of the vintage shop downtown. They aren’t something you save up for with a handful here, some there - you realise it’s what all Baekhyun’s extra shifts were for. The magnitude of his love tightens your chest and puts a burn in your eyes. When you pick the box up he jerks forward.

“Are you crying?” 

“No”, you laugh and wipe a tear away. “I got something in my eye.”

“My baby’s crying..!”, he coos, sliding his arms around your shoulders, nuzzling your neck.

And maybe you are, maybe just a bit.