Nobody's Approval (Constance/Ebenezer) (Modern AU)
@quill-pen has been providing some top-tier fashion inspiration for the Scroogeverse, and a spicy, academia-inspired fic was a natural result of all the top-tier headcanons. I had so much fun with the fashion, motifs and scenery in this story.
That being said, THIS IS AN 18+ FIC. Minors, DNI.
Fic is below the cut~
He … had to be dreaming. The sight before him couldn’t have been real.
Just moments before, Ebenezer Samuel Scrooge had been twisting about in his bed at home, furiously trying to find some position that would prompt his body to slip into the catacombs of slumber.
He’d been trying in vain all evening to get the visions of his uncomfortably beautiful clerk, Constance DoGoode, out of his thoughts. They’d spent the entire day alone in the office together, working in tandem in a tense silence that was thick and cloying.
Every time his mind had drifted, he’d thought of her. Now, even as he attempted to rest his mind (and certain parts of his anatomy) he remembered the scent of her vetiver perfume and the way her copper hair caught the light, and he was tossed right back into the throes of delusion for her.
Then, with just a flutter of his eyelids, she was miraculously in front of him.
She was there … but not in his bed.
In a manifestation as quick as lightning, he was back in his office, still dressed in his starched work shirt, slacks and tie. It was as if he’d never left for the day, as even the accidental ink stain on the joint of his thumb was still present from the leaky pen he’d thrown out earlier in the day.
The sky was dark, and all the other offices were shuttered. Everyone else appeared to have gone, as they should have been at such an hour.
Yet, somehow, he was right back at the bank. And he wasn’t alone.
Constance, dressed in the same brown, tweed pencil shirt and matching blazer that she’d worn mere hours before, was waiting for him at his desk.
The woman was facing him, her posture deceptively casual as she leaned against his lacquered, executive desk. Her cornflower blue eyes remained trained on his icy ones, her lashes painted dark with mascara and her smirking lips a delicious shade of rosewood. Even her freckles seemed to pop more than usual.
Gods, she was a vision, he thought. Framed against the backdrop of an after-dark London skyline, a blend of historic spires and modern skyscrapers, her already disarming beauty was inscrutable. Her mile-long tanned legs were crossed casually at the ankle, the additional height of her faux-crocodile Manolo Blahnik heels only serving to further highlight the glorious build of her legs and thighs. Speaking of her thighs, her pencil skirt was pulled up to reveal more skin than before. The slightly taut fabric accentuated the softness at the tops of her legs, and he wondered how they would feel under his hands. Or around his hips. Or around his face.
Her coppery hair was curled delicately and styled so it fell in loose spirals about her shoulders. Half of her hair was pulled back with a satin ribbon, tied neatly in a bow with matching tails that fluttered when she walked. He had admired the look on her many times before, as she wore it daily to the office. He’d lost count on how many times he’d longed to thread his fingers through those sun-kissed strands. How he’s been bombarded with daily thoughts about twirling those glowy strands around his fingers or lifting delicate curls to his lips to place delicate kisses upon.
Of course, on either side of her face were those familiar, unruly curls that always seemed to spring up and rest upon her cheeks. He secretly adored those springy little curls of hers, taking extra joy in occasions when she didn’t try to gel them down or pin them back.
Her blazer was, oh … she was opening it. How had he missed that? Had he truly been so distracted? Was he so predictable of a man.
She then laughed; a musical, casual sound that he could have listened to for hours. Had she read his mind? He blushed at the realization, and felt his trousers become slightly more constricting in the same breath.
As she popped the last button of her blazer, she pushed the coffee-colored top aside to reveal her ample bosom donned in a beautiful (but delightfully flimsy-looking) lace bra. The fabric provided virtually no tangible support, but sod that, he was of the mind that she looked even more lovely for it. The natural slope of her heavy breasts, combined with the slightest peek the garment offered at her apricot-brown nipples … it made his legs buckle. His swallowed thickly, consumed with thought of kissing down her cleavage, and taking the peaks of those woman mounds into his mouth, worrying them until she was mewling and whimpering. How would her skin taste? Would it be as soft on his lips as her hands were when she grazed his fingertips by accident?
His hands remained clenched at his sides, his restraint waning.
He wanted to reach out. To touch her … but the second he did, he knew it would be gone.
As if she couldn’t drive him to further madness, the woman threw another match on the already churning fire.
Moving her hands to the edge of the desk for support, she leaned back, hopping up so that she was seated upon his desk. Then, with maddening slowness, she parted her legs inch by glorious inch.
She was bare beneath her skirt, and already wet with need.
He inhaled with a hiss, shoulders arching and chest expanding. Fuck, it couldn’t be real.
“Make love to me, Ebenezer…” she whispered pleadingly, eyes glazing with a wetness that matched the yearning between her legs. “Right here. Now. Please. Please…”
If only, he thought.
He took one step forward, and the vision faded, the beautiful woman before him becoming a fuzzy distortion, until finally, she was gone.
Yet, for a moment, he swore her gaze still lingered through the illusions.
“Please.”
He awoke with a start, snapping upright in bed as if he was a drowning man who had just pulled himself up and free from a tide pool.
The first thing he registered was the sweat rolling down his brow and back, then the suffocating feel of the linen pajamas he wore. Cursing, he reached down and pulled his shirt up and off, tucking his chin to his chest to easily pull it up and over. Once he’d balled that up and flung it across the room (careful not to hit Prudence, who was blissfully out like a night in her bed in the corner) he reached for his pajama pants. Upon pulling them down, the relief on his erection was immediate.
“Fuck…” he gasped, laying a hand over his forehead.
Arching proudly toward his navel, his cock was already nearly purple at the tip, a small beam of precum shimmering at the top. All that, just from a dream about her?
Swearing, he reached down with his free hand and clenched the base tenderly, attempting to belay further pleasure.
“Down, boy…” he whispered, head falling back with a sigh as he settled back into reality.
As the tenderness ebbed and rigidity fled the tense sinews of his body, his mind still wandered. Speaking her name like a prayer, he shut his eyes and willed himself to relax.
Tomorrow, he had to do something to ease the tension. They’d been on two dates already, but things had become more complicated since then.
When they’d first started seeing each other, she had been working as a barista at the coffee house. Then, she’d gotten fired from the nightclub (well, all the staff had been fired, as was the natural result of a fraud investigation), and he’d invited her to work as a clerk for him, Bob Cratchit, and his twin brother. It was a perfect arrangement, in a business sense. She filled the role of a clerk perfectly, her poise with people and her knack with numbers making her a one-in-a-million find. She was perfect.
“Which is why you can’t continue to court her, you daft buffoon,” he reminded himself aloud, the words as worn as if he’d dragged them across concrete to speak them. “You’re her employer. It’s not ethical.”
He was being delusional, he thought. A man like him, lanky and graying – a literal lifelong bachelor, with a woman who was literally a former model? It was a joke.
“She … deserves more. Better.”
He rolled over to face the window of his bedroom. He glimpsed the same skyline he’d seen in his dreams and grimaced against the pale silk of his pillowcase.
Fuck. Fuck.
What the hell was he going to do?
“You’re going to ask her out again. That’s what you’re going to do, mate.”
Ebenezer's left-brained twin brother and business partner, Ebenezar Charles Scrooge, stared up at him with an unamused expression.
“H-How can you say that so easily?” Ebenezer asked, pacing another frantic lap around the outdoor café table they were both seated at. “Do you know what could happen? We could lose our best clerk! S-She could walk.”
The older twin’s latte sat vacant, quickly growing cold, while the other sipped hot chai and watched the man pace about. His eyes followed him over the paper rim of his cup, his gaze unamused and his brows furrowed.
“This isn’t about losing a clerk, Sammy,” Ebenezar remarked. “We both know that.”
As if caught in a spotlight, Ebenezer turned and flashed him a wide-eyed stare. “The bloody hell do you mean?”
“Mother of—we’re too old for this.”
He finished his tea in one swig and thumped the cup on the table with adamancy that made his twin jolt. “I mean that we both know we don’t put business relations above personal ones. Not anymore.”
He leaned forward in his seat, eyes boring into his brother’s. Searching. Knowing. They were identical twins, after all. They could attempt to keep secrets from each other, but it had been a fool’s errand for decades.
“Come off it,” Ebenezar said, “You’re afraid of losing her, not her position.”
Blanching and blushing at the same time, Ebenezer slid into his seat and steepled his fingers at the accusation. “Now look here—”
“You don’t have a leg to stand on,” his twin said, “You’ve been out with her twice already, you’ve bought her flowers, you took her to Estella’s for your first dinner date, you always stare at her at work—”
“Not always!”
“—Blimey, man, it’s so obvious!”
Ebenezer slinked back in his chair, caught but not defeated.
“The fact remains that it would be extremely improper for us to be in … any kind of relationship. I have superiority over her! Not literally, but technically, in the eyes of our company. You know. I-I wouldn’t want her to feel forced to comply…I mean…”
As he tripped over his words, Ebenezar smiled gently. “You care for her, and don’t want her to think she has to agree to a relationship with you to keep her employment. Yes?”
“Exactly!” The sound came out as both an exclamation and a sigh. “That’s the last thing I want. I-I’d never want to pressure her into anything, or even imply that our relationship was something that needed to be reciprocated. I-I don’t need us to be involved. I certainly…would like it, but I’d never use that as any leverage for anything.”
“So, you don’t want to fire her?”
His head bounced up from sulking as if he’d been electrocuted. “No!”
“Or break things off with her?”
“No!”
The word came out more strident than he intentioned, and the guests at the smattering of other outdoor tables glanced over in concern. Muttering a hushed apology, he turned back to his brother, returning the man’s chuckle with an embarrassed glare. “Of course I don’t, you twit!”
“You two began dating before you brought her aboard, you know,” he reminded gently. “Last I checked, she agreed to go out with you. Quite enthusiastically, it seems.”
“I’m aware,” he drawled, pinching his brow. There wasn’t a day that didn’t go by where he didn’t recall her giddy smile when he picked her up for their first date … nor a night where he didn’t think of their first kiss on her cottage doorstep. He still swooned when he remembered the feeling of her plush lips against his, and smirked at the memory of her roommates on the other side of the door audibly whispering in excitement and cheering in hushed tones (or, what they’d thought had been ‘hushed’ at the very least.)
“And you two work quite well together in the office,” he said, casually smirking at the incriminating blush that spread across his brother’s cheeks at the insinuation. It wasn’t uncommon for him to spot his brother speaking with Constance regularly, even when matters of business were not the topic of discussion. “I don’t recall any awkwardness.”
“It’s…amazingly pleasant to be with her, I’ll confess.”
“No need to confess. I have eyes.”
“Smart ass. You know, it’s been forever since I enjoyed the company of another so much. Not since…”
“Since Isabel?”
He froze, realization hitting him like a brick across the cheek.
Isabel, the woman he’d loved with all his heart … and one whom he’d lost to the same hesitation. Due to inaction, he’d sent away the woman he had once dreamed of marrying. The woman he, at one point, had wanted to start a family with.
“I … see,” he whispered.
Then, with a puff of laughter, his head fell into an overturned hand. “Damn. I’m an idiot.”
“You’re overly careful, and a little dense, but not an idiot,” his twin corrected. “Well, not yet. But if you keep dawdling here and waste the rest of this lovely spring day with me instead of her … well, then you’re irredeemable, I’m afraid.”
No further advice was needed.
After throwing down some bills to pay for the latte he’d been far too nervous to drink, Ebenezer thanked his brother and left the café immediately, starting down Cooper’s Row and moving briskly northward in the direction of Lloyd’s Avenue. In one hand, he held onto his bifold, making a beeline to an esteemed florist he knew to be nearby. In another, he held his cell.
He punched in Constance’s number by heart, then crossed his fingers she would answer.
Just two hours later, right as the sun set, Ebenezer was en route to the cottage Constance shared with her three roommates.
She’d not only picked up, but … she’d sounded happy. Relieved, even.
“Really? Y-Yes! I was hoping you’d ask me out again. It’s been a while…I’d love too!”
After purchasing a large bouquet of forsythia dressed on golden tissue and coffee-colored satin ribbon, he’d gone back to his flat, changed into one of his finest suits, and drove to her home to pick her up. It was nice enough that he could have walked, but he had special plans for the evening, and wanted to make sure her every whim would be catered to. Whether it was the comfort of not catching a chill on a nighttime walk or the relief of not having to walk blocks in tall heels (which he knew she liked to wear) he was devoted to anticipating her every need and catering to it.
There would be no more half-measures.
As he drove, his thoughts droned in his head like a hive of aggravated bees.
“It’s been a while.”
She’d been waiting. For him.
Bloody hell, his heart ached to think that she had doubted his interest in her. He’d had her best interest in heart, true, but he’d made assumptions.
Not again, he told himself firmly, gripping the wheel firmly as he turned into the cottage’s narrow drive from the side street and parked his car.
His long legs carried him from the driver’s seat of his car and to the front door in record time. After a small internal debate about ringing the bell or knocking, he opted for the bell. It felt more gentlemanly, he reasoned, which is what he wanted to be for her.
He’d braced himself the best he could before the front door opened, and yet, he still wasn’t prepared for what he saw.
“Gods above.”
Constance stepped out, dressed in a spaghetti-strapped satin dress that rested as beautifully over her as a second skin. The color, a deep coffee shade, transported him to his dream from the night before. Her hair, pulled back partially with a black ribbon, was curled to perfection. A pair of strappy, black heels artfully laced up those wonderfully sculpted legs, the patent black color matching her handbag.
As she stepped out into the night, she smiled bashfully. “Hi.”
“H-Hello,” he said, then brandished the flowers for her. “For you.”
At the sight of the impressive blooms, her eyes lit up in joy. He took equal pleasure in placing the bouquet in her arms with ginger care, taking a step back afterward to admire the full sight of her.
She cradled the long stalks of forsythia like one would cradle an infant, her disbelief as endearing as it was legitimate. “T-These are beautiful … and the ribbon! I-It even matches my dress! How did you know?”
“I just had a feeling you’d wear that color tonight,” he said, “Brown does looks gorgeous on you. Like every other color.”
He paused, his gaze licking up and down her form. “You … look breathtaking.”
Burying her face in the golden petals to conceal a laugh, she peered up at him with excited eyes. “T-Thank you.”
Heat passed between them – a raw need clothed in tepid exteriors.
“Ebenezer, I…”
“Con, don’t forget a jacket!” a voice called from within. “You were shivering in the house in that dress. It’s going to be even colder outside.”
Elizabeth "Bess" Sullivan, Constance’s best friend (more like a sister, from how close they were) stepped out from behind the door brandishing a lace trimmed, wrap jacket for her to slip into. At the sight of her date standing there, her sapphire eyes took a moment to read him up and down, as if sizing him up.
Before a word was spoken, he knew what was coming.
“Why, hello there, stranger,” she said, her tone unreadable. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
So, it had been noticed. Of course it had been.
“A horrible oversight on my end,” the man replied, dipping his head respectfully to the midnight-haired woman. “Rest assured; it won’t happen again. I’ve missed having this lovely lady in my life far too much.”
Constance blushed and Bess hummed.
“Trust me,” he added, “If I ever forget myself, you have permission to initiate some choice words with me. Although, you may have to get in line behind my brother to do so.”
The corner of Bess’ mouth quirked upward. “Ah. Good, then.”
After a small detour inside to place the impressive flowers in a vase of water, Bess hugged her friend and bid her off into the night, telling her to be safe, and to enjoy her evening.
“Call if you need anything,” Bess muttered, helping to fix the jacket prettily and evenly upon her shoulders, “I’ll be up and have my phone on me.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Constance replied, but her tone dripped with gratitude all the same. “Oh! Um, should I pick anything up while I’m out?”
“What? Of course not, you goofball! You’re on a date. Just have fun.”
After one last hug and whisper of encouragement, Constance drifted to Ebenezer’s side. Offering her an arm, he carefully led her down the cottage walkway and to his McLaren 540C, where he opened the door for her to slide in. She did so with a murmured ‘thank you’ that made the hairs on his neck stand on end.
With one last polite wave to Bess, he rolled out of the narrow drive and merged back into the main roadway, the sounds of regular city traffic rushing to meet them as he accelerated onto the freeway.
As they cruised through the twinkling streets of an after-dark London, Constance took the opportunity to glance over and smile. “I didn’t have a chance to say so when you were picking me up, but you look … very handsome tonight.”
She blushed then, averting her eyes nervously. “I mean, you always look handsome! It’s not like tonight is the exception. But you look … especially dashing tonight.”
One hand remaining on the wheel, he reached over and took one of her smaller hands in his. Lifting it to his lips, he kissed her knuckles, allowing his touch to linger for a few extra seconds after the initial caress ended.
“I’m glad you think so,” he said truthfully. “Thank you.”
He wore a dark navy Brioni ensemble with soft, pale blue stripes and darts to add just enough texture without being too busy on his tall frame. His belt and shoes were made from a deep, dark brown leather, matching her outfit yet again. It was a choice he’d instinctually made at the last second, but it was paying dividends in spades. Judging by how her keen eyes examined him, she was … impressed.
“By the way, you never said where we’re going tonight,” she realized aloud. “Is it a surprise?”
He chuckled as they lazily rolled to a stop at a red light.
“Not an intentional one, but I hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless,” he said, shifting the gear manually. “Want me to tell you?”
She hummed, considering the offer, then shook her head. “No. I think I’d like to be surprised!”
He laughed, nodding in agreement. “Very well. We’ll be there in five minutes, so you won’t have to be in suspense long.”
Her eyes widened, the bright blue orbs practically neon against the dark cityscape behind her. “Five minutes? It’s that close?”
“It’s a secretive, hole-in-the-wall place. Exclusive, you could say. I’ve known about it for a while.”
“Have I been there?”
“Not that I’m aware.”
“Hm. Well, I'm still getting used to the city, so it'll be exciting to see anywhere new! Heck, it may become a new favorite spot."
He chuckled warmly, snapping on his turn signal to weave down a slightly tighter street in a more historic area of the city. "I certainly hope so."
True to his word, five minutes later, he expertly parallel parked his car in a free space along the cobbled street. Stepping out after a cursory glance to make sure the street was clear, he rounded the car and opened the door for her. “And here we are. Here.”
Dipping down and offering a hand to help her stand, he guided her out of the car with expert poise and grace. He was quick to note the slippery glaze coating the cobblestones below.
As poised and professional as Constance was, she wasn't the steadiest on her feet. Ever.
Just as she lost balance, his arm flew around her waist to support her. "Woah! Ha...careful there. I've got you."
Her hand landed squarely over his chest, as if magnetizing to the pulsebeat of his heart.
“Oh! U-Um, thank you.”
He nodded, his hands holding firm even after she was momentarily steady. “Anytime.”
As they walked into the small, vertical brownstone, his arm remained protectively around her. For good reason too, as she looked around in intrigue as they drew closer, focusing anywhere but where she was walking. Unlike the other bars lining the street, the one they were advancing into has a large stoop and spacious windows with blooming boxes of pansies, ironically hardy against the spring night chill.
The centerpiece of the establishment was a palatial arched doorway, the columns on either side made of emerald green marble and gilded rings of sculpted flowers.
The warm, Italianate features of the building were a stark contrast to the moss-dappled stone walls and dark iron accents featured on other pubs and shops dotted along the lamplit historic streets.
Her eyes sparked at the scenery, and he couldn’t resist smirking at the fact that he knew why.
“Does it remind you of home?” he inquired as they reached the door. “Of New York?”
“It does,” she answered. “W-where are…”
With a light shove, he pushed the door open to reveal a cozy, dimly lit speakeasy. Stained glass lamps diffused soft halos of warm light over an impressive bar. Tall bookcases lined the walls, each one stacked to the brim with novels and vintage paperbacks. Potted plants and palms of all shapes and sizes were scattered about, all as lush and green as if they’d been planted in the Amazon. The walls, patched with peeling wallpaper, displayed framed prints of Matisse’s Polynesian-inspired works, alongside other impressionist, oceanic pieces.
On the sill of one of the front windows, a glass bowl was adorned with sticks of orange and cayenne-scented incense, the smoke filling the air with a biting, fruity aroma.
It … looked like home.
“It’s a New York-inspired dive, right here in London,” he said. “Completely authentic. Well, as authentic as you could manage here, of course.”
He took a peek at her face, delighted by her obvious excitement. Still too thrilled to speak, the woman allowed Ebenezer to help her out of her jacket and escort her to the bar, lined with mismatched stools that looked like they’d been plucked out of a handful of diners from across the country.
The bartender, in a decently-passing American Midwest accent (it was a little too Patrick Bateman-esque to be convincing, she thought with a grin), ask the two what they’d like for the evening.
“Don’t even try it, man,” Ebenezer teased. “She’s from Manhattan. Born and raised.”
Blanching, the man looked to her with a look that begged forgiveness. “Ough, sorry! Cripes, that must’ave been like getting a knife in ya ear!”
“No, not al all!” Connie replied with a laugh, waving a manicured hand about as if to wave away his worries. “It’s not like I can pull off a convincing London accent on my end, and I live here!”
The good faith earned them a free preliminary round of drinks, put on the tab of “American generosity.”
One scotch and vodka soda later, the two tucked themselves into a corner booth, their small table forcing the two to cozy up, their legs practically crossing over the other’s. They were practically joined at the hip, yet it wasn’t an arrangement either of them minded in the slightest.
As they sipped their drinks, the antique speakers played a tinny recording of Tracy Chapman, the soft vocals filling the intimate lounge wall to wall with swells of sound. Each crescendo or thrumming melody reverberated with the passion of a second heartbeat.
Maybe together we can get somewhere
Any place is better
Starting from zero, got nothing to lose
Maybe we'll make something
Me, myself, I got nothing to prove
“This place is so perfect,” she whispered, glancing around the space, breathing deeply, as if she was trying to lock the memory away in her brain and her lungs to live in for as long as possible. “I…really feel like I’m back in SoHo. Or Brooklyn.”
Laughing in equal parts relief and joy, he eyes her idle hand on the table. His free hand itched to reach out and take it. “I’m so glad you like it here.”
“Oh, I love it! I’ll have to come here more often. It’s not too far from the bank, yes?”
He hummed as he calculated a rough estimate of the distance in his head. “It’s … fifteen blocks, maybe.”
“Not bad at all! Oh, I’ll definitely be coming here more often after work. Imagine this place on a humid, rainy day!"
"I thought you disliked rain?"
"Oh, I do, but here on a rainy day? That's different!"
"What? How so?"
"Listening to jazz while thumbing through old books and drinking espresso all day? Oh, I already have chills!”
She was so visibly enthralled and happy … it was impossible for him to take his eyes off her. Well, truthfully, that was the case for him anytime he was fortunate enough to share space the same space and breathe the same air as her. Yet, in that moment, her palpable glee was so contagious that he found himself homesick for neighborhoods in a city he’d never set foot in before.
“Well, if it’s not far from the counting house, perhaps we could … both come here more often?” she asked tentatively, peering up at him through spiked, mascara-coated lashes.
The man’s expression softened, but his smile broadened.
“I…think I could absolutely agree to that arrangement,” he replied.
Reaching out, he took his hand gingerly in his own, his thumb stroking the underside of her warmed palm.
“In fact, Constance, I’d … very much like to see you as often as possible,” he began softly,
“Oh?” There was a skip in her gasp.
“I’d…quite like the honor of officially courting a lady like you,” he whispered, leaning in close enough so his words were audible only to her. She followed suit, the resulting proximity nudging them close enough for their foreheads to touch.
The feeling of skin on skin made her shudder, and when their eyes connected again, he spied the most lovely, apricot blush on her cheeks.
“I’d very, very much like that,” she replied, just a touch breathless. "Is it ... alright for us to do this? I'm not going to...put you at risk for losing credibility, right?"
Of course, she was concerned for his reputation, not her own.
"Nothing would put me at risk," he said, his tone hushed but firm. "I have everything I could want, in a business sense, and additional resources to be comfortable forever even should the market plummet tomorrow. I need nobody's approval for us to be together ... except yours."
“Ebenezer. I-I don’t know what to say.”
“I do,” he said.
You gotta make a decision
Leave tonight or live and die this way
“I’m sorry it took me so long, angel.”
With a sound that sounded something between a sob and a laugh, she leaned forward and urged him into a kiss. He accepted readily, tilting his head to meet hers, then moaning one their mouths molded fully. His free hand traveled up her arm to grip her shoulder, her tanned skin practically branding him. Holding her was like embracing condensed sunlight, her form blazing with heat and radiance.
The dimness of the space concealed them from nosy onlookers, keeping each other’s looks of bliss and gasps of delight a secret from everyone else except them.
Their kiss ensnared the attention of all his senses. He all but drank in the taste of vodka on her lips, and practically melted when he felt her lift one of her bare legs to possessively twine around one of his, her heeled foot running up and down his leg.
He could have nudged her against the closest wall and kissed her senseless, and a primal part of him wanted to do just that and more. Yet, the other part of him wanted to be … softer. To hold her, Kiss her. Stroke her hair, and continue to tenderly hold her hand all through the night.
When the kiss broke, punctuated by her giving his bottom lip a playful bite, he swore he’d never felt such fondness for another in all his days. In that moment, she had his body, mind and heart as her playground … and instead of toying with him and having a field day, she laid her head of cinnamon-colored hair upon his shoulder.
He was quick to angle himself so she could rest as comfortably as possible, a hand falling upon her back to caress lovingly.
Lovingly, he thought, practically delirious from joy.
When he did look up and saw the bartender making his rounds and polishing up the water rings and napkins left behind by other patrons, he held his hand up, calling for another rounds of drinks.
They were going to be there for quite a while, he figured.
After all, they had a lot of lost time to make up for, and all the approval they needed to get started.
Tracy Chapman always makes me tear up, but these two find it romantic! Silly geese, these two.
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Lastly, factory-direct purchases often come with better warranty terms, as manufacturers stand behind the quality of their artistry. Knowing their investment is protected gives homeowners an added layer of security and peace of mind.
What Are Plantation Shutters?
Plantation shutters, known for their wide louvers and robust construction, have a storied past that dates back to ancient Greece. Originally crafted from marble or wood, these shutters were designed to provide ventilation, light control, and protection from the elements. The term “plantation shutter” emerged from their use in the grand estates of the American South, where they were integral in managing interior climates against harsh weather conditions. Over the centuries, plantation shutters have evolved from their Mediterranean origins to become a staple of functional elegance in homes worldwide.
Plantation shutters come in several styles, each offering unique advantages for different needs and preferences:
Full Height Shutters: Cover the entire window, providing complete privacy and light control.
Café Style Shutters: Cover only the bottom part of the window, allowing light through the top while maintaining privacy at eye level.
Tier-on-Tier Shutters: Feature separate panels for the top and bottom halves of the window, offering the most flexibility in light and privacy control.
Bifold Shutters: Fold back against the wall, ideal for large windows or doors.
Sliding Shutters: Glide on a track, perfect for sliding glass doors or larger openings.
Materials vary from traditional wood to modern composites and vinyl, each with specific characteristics suited to different environments and design requirements. Whether you’re looking for the rich warmth of wood or the durability of synthetic materials, there’s a plantation shutter to fit your vision and enhance the beauty of your home.
How to Select Materials for Plantation Shutters?
When selecting plantation shutters, the material is a crucial factor that affects not only the aesthetics but also the functionality and longevity of the shutters. Here’s a breakdown of the pros and cons of the three most common materials: wood, composite, and vinyl.
Pros
Natural beauty with a classic appeal.
Customizable in shape, size, and color.
Sound insulation properties and can reduce noise.
Cons
It can be more expensive than other materials.
They may require regular maintenance and are not waterproof.
Pros
Durable and resistant to moisture and warping.
It can be painted or stained to match the decor.
Low maintenance compared to wood shutters.
Cons
It may cost more than vinyl.
Fewer style choices than natural wood.
Pros
Most affordable and low maintenance.
Resistant to weather and pests.
Waterproof and ideal for high-moisture areas.
Cons
Limited customization options.
It can appear less premium and may offer a different level of insulation than wood.
Considerations for Different Climates and Rooms
The choice of shutter material should also be informed by the climate and the specific room in which they will be installed:
Wood Shutters: Best suited for dry, temperate climates due to their natural composition. They are ideal for living rooms and bedrooms where warmth and elegance are desired.
Composite Shutters are great for all climates, especially areas with high humidity or fluctuating temperatures. They work well in bathrooms and kitchens where moisture resistance is essential.
Vinyl Shutters are perfect for coastal areas and rooms that require easy cleaning and durability, such as children’s rooms and garages.
When choosing shutters, consider the look you want and the practical aspects such as climate suitability, maintenance requirements, and the room’s function to ensure that your shutters stand the test of time and use.
How to Choose the Right Design and Style of Plantation Shutters?
When selecting plantation shutters for your home, the design and style you choose can significantly enhance your decor and reflect your taste. Here’s how to make the best choice for your space:
Choosing the Right Style for Your Home’s Decor
Popular Designs and Current Trends
Several minimalist designs seamlessly blend with various decor styles. Clean lines and neutral colors are famous, allowing shutters to complement rather than dominate a room. However, shutters with wider louvers and vibrant finishes are gaining popularity for those looking to make a statement. Additionally, sustainable materials and eco-friendly designs are becoming increasingly sought after as homeowners become more environmentally conscious.
Customization Options Available with Factory Direct Purchases
One of the significant advantages of buying factory direct is the ability to customize your shutters to your exact specifications. You can choose the size, louver width, color, and tilt mechanism. Some manufacturers offer the option to incorporate smart home technology, allowing you to control the shutters remotely. Customization ensures that your shutters will fit perfectly with your windows and overall design theme, providing functionality and aesthetic appeal.
Measuring and Installation of Plantation Shutters
Proper measurement and installation are crucial for the optimal performance and aesthetic of your plantation shutters. Here’s a guide For you through the process:
Step-by-Step Guide to Measuring Your Windows
Gather Tools: You’ll need a mYou’llape measure, a level, and a notepad for recording measurements.
Measure Width: Measure the window width at the top, middle, and bottom using the narrowest measurement.
Measure Height: Measure the window height on the left, center, and right. Use the shortest height measurement.
Depth: Ensure enough depth in the window recess to accommodate the shutter frame.
Squareness: Measure diagonally to check the window’s squareness. Consider a frame that can adjust to out-of-square windows if the measurements differ.
Tips for Ensuring a Perfect Fit
Double-Check Measurements: Always measure twice to avoid any errors.
Consider Obstructions: Consider any handles or locks that might interfere with the shutter operation.
Use Decimals: Record your measurements to the nearest 1/16th of an inch for precision.
Professional vs. DIY Installation
Professional Installation: This is recommended if you need more confidence in your DIY skills. Professionals ensure a perfect fit and finish and often guarantee their work.
DIY Installation: This method can be more cost-effective and satisfying. Most factory-direct companies provide detailed instructions and support. However, it must be the right tools and a basic understanding of home improvement tasks.
Remember, accurate measuring and proper installation are the keys to enjoying your beautiful new plantation shutters for years to come.
Cost Considerations of Plantation Shutters
When enhancing your home with plantation shutters, understanding the financial aspect is as important as choosing the right style. Here’s how factory direct shutters can be a cost-effective choice and how to budget for them:
The Cost-Effectiveness of Factory Direct Shutters
How to Budget for Your Plantation Shutters
Assess Your Needs: Determine how many windows require shutters and consider the desired materials and styles.
Get Quotes: Contact multiple manufacturers for quotes. Ensure these quotes include all costs, such as shipping and installation, if you need to install them yourself.
Compare Quality and Price: Sometimes, the cheapest option is better. Weigh the shutters’ durability and warranty against their cost.
Plan for Extras: If you’re considering upgrades like thermal insulation or integrated smart home features, include these in your budget.
Set a Timeline: If you don’t need to install all shutters simultaneously, consider phasing the purchase to spread out the expense.
Save for Quality: Going for the lowest price might be tempting, but investing in higher-quality shutters can save money in the long run due to their longevity and better performance.
By carefully planning and researching, you can find high-quality plantation shutters that fit your budget and add lasting value to your home.
Maintenance and Care for Plantation Shutters
Maintaining your plantation shutters is critical to ensuring they look great and function well over time. Here are some tips for cleaning and upkeep, as well as insights into the longevity and durability of different materials:
Cleaning and Upkeep Tips
Dusting: Use a soft cloth or a microfiber duster to remove dust from the louvers gently.
Deep Cleaning: Use a slightly damp cloth with mild soap and water for deeper cleaning. Avoid harsh chemicals that can damage the finish.
Moving Parts: Lubricate the tilt rod and other moving parts occasionally to keep them operating smoothly.
Avoid Moisture: If your shutters are in high-moisture areas, such as bathrooms, ensure they are dried well to prevent warping or mold.
Longevity and Durability of Different Materials
Wood Shutters: Offer a classic look and can last decades if properly maintained. Regular maintenance is essential because they can be prone to warping in humid conditions.
Composite Shutters: Made from engineered wood and typically coated with vinyl, composite shutters are more resistant to humidity and a good choice for areas that experience a lot of moisture.
Vinyl Shutters: Highly durable and resistant to moisture and temperature changes. They are an excellent option for high-humidity rooms and require minimal maintenance.
By following these simple maintenance steps, you can enjoy your plantation shutters' beauty and functionality for many years. Regular care maintains their appearance and protects your investment in your home’s comfort and style.
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