#velvet!!!!

[serialxsocial-a]

“ENOUGH’A THE FUCKIN’ PUMPKINHEAD--”

[sonicdaddy420-blog]

I love this dress so much

[mellicose]

Velvet

Fandom: David Tennant’s velvet suits, Campbell Bain

Word count: 1050

Warnings: I don’t know...velvet kink? Frottage? Both are true.

Summary: I’m basing this on @whyisthisnotcanon ‘s lovely photo that I reblogged earlier. As my regulars know, I don’t do David fics, so I have wracked my overheated brain to circumvent my own rule, and I think I’ve succeeded. Of all his characters, there is none more capable of wearing a burgundy velvet suit unironically than Campbell. So, for your sartorial delectation, I give you...

A Cam & Dee one-shot

He let himself in and went into her living room.

“Honey, I’m home!” he yelled jovially.

“I’m in the bathroom. Just have to put some lippie on!” 

He paced in front of her sofa. “I don’t mean to sound awful, but it’s almost fortuitous that Harry ate that bad oyster. Now we get to hobnob with all the glittering celebrities and that. The NTA’s of all things! I never thought I’d do any kind of TV work, but Teddy says I have a pretty face. Pretty. Ha! I’m terrified I’ll forget my questions and look like an utter twat.”

The apartment was silent save for the music playing in Reggie’s room.

“Hello?”

“These are definitely one of those times that your excess of personality will work for you. They’ll love you. How could they-” She walked out of the bathroom and stopped short. Her heels dropped out of her hand.

“What is that?” she waggled a finger at him.

He ran his fingers along his lapels and winked at her. “It’s my new threads, sweetheart. You like?”

She tucked the tube of lipstick in her cleavage and walked around him slowly, head cocked to the side. “Whaah-we didn’t discuss this. This is…” she clicked her tongue.

“Off Savile-Row’s finest velvet apparel. Innit brilliant?” He gave her a megawatt grin. “It’s bespoke. Makes me feel like a bad motherfucker,” he said, strutting around her living room.

[photo source: whyisthisnotcanon.tumblr.com ]

“It’s burgundy.” She had a strange look on her face.

“The tailor said the color does wonders for my complexion.” The tip of his tongue touched the roof of his mouth and he cocked an eyebrow at her. “That the burgundy makes my eyes look effulgent.”

“Uhuh,” she said. She looked almost troubled.

“You don’t like it?” he said, finally deflated.

“It’s...velvet.” She bit her fat lower lip in a way that had become intimately recognizable to him.

“It is. But I’m a firm believer that penguins belong in the Antarctic, and not the red carpet,” he said defensively.

“Of course,” she said as she bent to slide on her heels. “Penguins.”

He took her face in his hands. “You okay?” he said, looking into her eyes. “Did you have a wee toke wi’ Reggie?”

She gently extricated herself from his arms and turned around. “Could you?”

“What?” He was a bit lost. She’d gone a bit funny.

“Get the zipper for me.”

“The taxi’s gonna be here in less than ten minutes-”

She shushed him with a finger over his lips. “I’m aware. This won’t take long.”

He undid the tiny hook and unzipped her dress. His eyes widened at the growing expanse of skin. She wasn’t wearing a bra. The glittery, silky fabric fell to the floor and he grabbed it as she stepped out of it.

“Such a pretty dress, it’d be a shame to wrinkle it.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her body against him.

“Sandra, as much as I’d like to, we can’t do this-” She muscled her leg between his so she could grind firmly against his hip. She lay her head on his shoulder. Her hands traveled down his back to his ass and squeezed. “Oh fuck.”

He wasn’t gonna ask any questions. She looked up at him, eyes on fire. Her lips were still unpainted. He could kiss. He bent his head , but she began to move down his body, her hips undulating against his leg, then moving back up. Her hard nipple caught on a suit button.

Reggie’s door opened. He stepped out, saw Dee, and did a silent about face back into his bedroom. He knew what was up.

She pushed him onto the sofa and sat on his lap, grinding hard against his growing erection, thighs rubbing against his delicious velvety thighs. She was so hot he grabbed her hips and lifted her to see whether she was wetting him. He was damp, but the velvet resisted absorbing her excitement.

She leaned back and rubbed her naked back against his chest, wriggling her shoulders and moaning softly. He pressed his lips against her perfumed neck, then licked. She tasted faintly of violets, since she was made up. She jammed her hand between her ass and his crotch and squeezed him, rubbing his cock through his pants.

“Dee, baby, if you keep going,” His hand dipped into her panties. They groaned together. She was throbbing. “Shit…”

He was wondering about whether he could get her off in less than 90 seconds when she suddenly stood up. She still panted lightly as she put her dress back on, smoothing the fabric over her curves.

“Could you?” She pointed at her back. She needed him to zip her up.

He obliged, caressing up her back with his knuckle. “What just happened?”

She painted her lips in the mirror by the door. He watched her and waited for his blood to cool.

She smacked her lips together and smiled at him. “You still terrified?”

“Not now. Not enough blood in my brain.” He gave her a one-sided grin. “Is that why you did it?”

“Yes, and no. I have a thing for velvet.” She shrugged. “A very strong sexual sensory thing.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck, if I’d known it did that to you I’d have walked around dressed like Little Lord Fauntleroy all the time. No shame.”

She laughed and bent to take off her sodden panties. “These are useless now.”

“You gonna go like that?” His voice cracked.

“No one will know but you...and anyway, panty lines are the devil.” She ran to her bedroom and threw them on her bed. She said no one would know, but no pantied bum jiggled that enticingly. Everyone who looked would know.

It kinda made him mad, but it dissolved quickly into desire. Really intense desire. Just when he thought he had her more or less figured out, she’d do something to throw him for a loop. He loved it.

He loved her.

She walked into his arms and caressed his velvet-clad chest, purring.

The cab honked just outside.

“You, I, and this suit are gonna need some serious quality time together later,” she said, pulling him toward the door.

“Absolutely.” 

I’m calling my tailor he thought, already thinking up new sartorial delights for her.

[papermonkeyism]

Dang. At work, someone just returned the cleanest, neatest pair of velvet pants I've ever seen in my life!

I found one (1) single dog hair, and nothing else. It must have been taken out of the bag and tried on, as the bag was torn and the pants weren't folded the way we do, so the buyer must have brushed/cleaned them after trying them on.

My new favourite person, hot dang! Sorry the pants weren't to your liking, but you made my work so much easier and I appreciate that so much.

[mellicose]

I'd ship the velvet jacket with your nude torso.

Ooh, kind of saucy. I’d be tempted to choreograph a routine to JT’s Suit and Tie wearing nothing but the jacket.

Argh. Velvet.