bakerstreet | Every wedding day needs a wedding night

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Every wedding day needs a wedding night

The Wedding Night Meme
a smut/shipping meme

The wedding bells have rung - or the correct sacrifices have been made, depending on your culture. Whatever the case may be, you're married now, and the night is yours. However, there is one expectation on you: it's time to consummate the marriage.

Whether you're in love, in this marriage because it was arranged, or absolutely in hate with your new spouse, you're with them now. Have you two been intimate before this, or is your first time...with them or first time period? Do you know what you want and are you full of lust, or do you have no clue what's going on? Maybe you even have to seduce your partner who wants nothing to do with this!

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Thread out wedding night smut and shipping.

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[ I MARRIED AN ALIEN: not just a headline for the tabloids anymore! your mother will be so proud.

f/m | prefs in journal ]

[Arranged marriage, dumb 18-year-olds on the brink of disaster, something else entirely, whatever sounds good to me. Interested in both canon and cross-canon CR, happy to do things in her world, your character's world, or a jamjar!]

can be played during anywhere in the span of his existence, from ancient king to modern a-hole.

[All in all, it had been a qualified success.

The bride had had her big dress and towering cake. The groom had painstakingly picked the location and catering based on nonprofit impact. Their friends had had a good time. By all legal accounts, Éponine Odelle Thénardier and Alain Beaumont Enjolras were officially united as a marital unit, some subsequent filing notwithstanding.

There had even been a kiss, to the whooping and hollering approval of their guests. That, however, had kept qualification on the evening.

Because now will have to come the actual negotiation they'd been avoiding. Now they'll have to figure out who sleeps where and what affection isn't quite okay. Now, they'll have to do it while Éponine is tipsy and flush with the day's festivities.

His fingers are as careful as possible in catching at her hip for the difficult navigation of their front door.] Still okay?

[Eponine had had the time of her life- she was drunk on champagne, she'd danced with her husband, been married, and her siblings had looked absolutely perfect. she had danced with her father, mostly to make the Enjolras' uncomfortable- she knew very well if she didn't invite her parents then they would gate crash anyway. And generally the whole night had been magical- she even got Marius to dance with her at some point.

Now, Eponine had ditched her heels and was half carrying her skirts as they made their way to their home. Gav and Azelma were with friends, leaving the newlyweds alone for the rest of the evening.

Eponine rolls her eyes] why wouldn't I be? I just got married! [She lets out a small cry of joy.] and its wedding night time!

Well. [Maybe it's not exactly how a groom should be speaking on his wedding night, but they hardly have an audience anymore.] It's night time, anyway.

[They hadn't been pretending to each other that this was a deep and abiding romance. They had worked their way to this moment with a clinical understanding of tax law and a mutual devotion to her siblings' future. It feels important to reestablish that now.]

Will you be all right getting out of this on your own?

[The sheer amount of fabric required for a wedding dress is boggling enough on its own. The idea of having to work out fish-eye hooks is more daunting than the amount of energy Enjolras has left.]

[Eponine had no decorum. he knew this before he married her. She especially had no decorum when she was champagne drunk.]

you're supposed t'undress your bride an' carry her, [Eponine argues.] An' I got cute panties on.

[She has abandoned her heels which she long since abandoned, in favor of a beat up pair of converse. She had abandoned those too, and was working on losing her nylons] There's a zipper.

[In fairness, there had always been a non-zero chance that Enjolras would need to help Eponine out of her dress. Even basic things, to his eye, got incredibly complicated after drinking as much champagne as people tended to at weddings.

It still twists his lips just slightly for a heartbeat.]

Do you need me to carry you?

[Eponine frowns at him]

duh. it's called bridal style for a reason.Shouldda been the threshold-it won't be hard- unless you think I'm fat. I'm not- but Babet said I was. He is a stupid man, for a dentist.

[all the while Eponine is attempting to unzip herself]

carry me?

Hey-- easy.

[Unzipping one's own wedding dress seems like a dangerous proposition. Maybe catching her hands lightly will be a comfortable, sweet thing rather than overtly controlling.]

Where should I carry you, hm?

[Eponine frowns slightly when he catches her hands. But she doesn't mind. Right now, she likes the touch, likes being near her husband.]

The bedroom, duh.

It's the wedding night.

[Things have been getting better, by and large. The engagement had involved access to his bank accounts, after all, and meals hadn't been at all hard to come by. It hadn't made Eponine any less diminutive and easily plucked up off the ground.

After a beat of hesitation, Enjolras shifts to do just that. She's tipsy, true, but she still must know who she's married. Sweeping her up into a bridal hold can't make her forget that his plan is very much simply to go to sleep.]

Take hold, hm?

[Eponine wraps an arm around his neck, followed by another as she leans against his chest. She can hear his heart again, a warm reminder that hey, she's got this hot guy that cares about her at least enough to marry her.

Admittedly, that was a low bar: if it hadn't been him, it was Montparnasse. And one of these men wasn't going to hit her.

At least, she hoped not.]

They're blue, [she tells him in a whisper. She is, of course, referring to her underwear.]

[It will, of course, surprise no one at all that carrying Eponine didn't put anything like a struggle or break in Enjolras's stride. It will also likely surprise no one at all that, despite the constant reference to 'the wedding night,' he had already forgotten any reference to Eponine's underwear had been made.]

Who're blue?

[And can she answer without making any dramatic sudden movements while he navigates the bedroom door?]

[Eponine grins at him, her eyes gleaming in the light- or maybe that was just how they were glazed with champagne.]

My lingerieeee, [she told him, and wiggled her toes.]

...right.

[Well, she clearly needs to be set down very lightly on the edge of the bed. Getting her to go to sleep will can only get easier the longer she wears herself out with this silliness.]

Where's the zipper?

[Eponine grins when she's down on the bed, bouncing slightly.] Riiight here. [she tries to reach around to her back, but she can't get to the zipper.] It's a secret zimper.

[That was to say, it was hidden.]

A secret zipper.

[Well, there means it's time to feel his wife's spine up carefully, looking for a hidden zipper. The fumbling is light and delicate until he finds it, free hand catching firmly at her shoulder as he begins to properly--almost clinically--help her out of her dress.]

[He's so sweet, the way he touches her gently and takes care of her. It almost makes Eponine feel like she's some sort of doll. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, false eyelashes brushing against her cheeks.]

You found it! Yaaaay! [She practically whispers it, actually, and once the zipper is done, Eponine manages to squirm out of her dress, only getting slightly tangled in the arms as she tried to lift it over her head.]

--hey. Easy.

[Untangling her from the strange intricacies of a wedding gown--even one with a helpful hidden zipper--is quite the To Do. On the bright side, it captures all of his attention, as does trying to sort out the pooled fabric to hang up in the closet properly. Bride liked saving their utterly wasteful one-time-only dresses, right?]

You need water?

[Damn straight she does. She's going to look at it every day and it will make her the happiest girl in all of France.]

Or more champagne! Then you, mon mari!

[When he leaves to get her water, Eponine will rearrange herself on the bed, trying to look as inciting as possible in her matching light-blue lingerie. ]

[Alas, her husband will not return with champagne. He'll get water for himself, and he'll bring back a fairly large glass for Eponine.

Also alas, when he comes back to the bedroom, Enjolras won't particularly notice the rearrangement of limbs or the intent at enticement presented by the lingerie.]

Here. Little sips.

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