Hufflepuff Bedding Novels & Stories

Scarlet says, coming over to stand beside me, presenting a unified front in from of my aunt and uncle. I watch my uncle tilt his head, watching Scarlet before turning back to me. “You’re welcome to these, Sloane. But why don’t we start looking for some that have the level of ... maturity that you’re looking for. We have some catalogs that our pack members use to order new bedding. If I’m not mistaken, Beta Scarlet has also provided you with some mature looking decorations for your room as well. Why don’t we look around for some that are yours, ones that you would like, and then you can give Scarlet’s decorations back to her,” he says.

I run my hand over a wolf’s soft bedspread that reminds me of my alpha’s coats. I look to my left and find a pristine white bedside table with a clear glass of water and a small lamp that is lit. The lamp shade is a dusty blue color that looks adorable against the gold lamp bass. I struggled to sit up, and the stranger was at my side helping me to sit fluffing a pillow behind my back.

Just like the room in the middle, there was only a pile of straws and a pile of rolled-up bedding in the middle of this so-called bedroom. Sheldon stepped forward and spread out the bedding. There was a quilt, mattress, and a pillow inside. As soon as he saw this simple and lowly three-piece set, he could not help but stomp his feet as he cursed, “D*mn it! I spent one hundred million US dollars, but even the bedding set that I received is second-hand?! A new set of this tattered thing would not have cost more than two hundred dollars, right?!” Sheldon was furious, and he kicked the pillow far away. After that, he turned his head as he rushed out and entered the room on the right.

In his sleep, he shuffled aggressively. "Eric!" "Eric!" His eyes widened in horror, his fast breathing causing his heart to race, and when he saw bright green eyes staring back at him, he almost choked on his own spit. Melissa was throwing clothes in his direction on the bed, and he wiped his mouth from the drool. It was evident she was hurrying, a bit of stress on her face as she even threw him his shoes. He had just woken up, and he lethargically asked, "Why did you wake me up?" His blond curls were disheveled over his head, and he was scratching his tummy, "I was eating—"

His large body occupied almost half of her student-sized bed that stood at the far corner of the room, just a few steps away from the bathroom. Halle had a dark blue couch on the other side of the room, it was worn down and came with the apartment. When she first came, it was infested by fleas but of course, she couldn’t complain seeing as she came to this country with nothing but her clothes and a half scholarship attached to her name.

Harrington says. “Thank you.” I tell him. I take the book and sit down while the guys ask me where I want everything hung up. I tell them where I want certain items and which walls I want them on. I find the page that Harrington marked and I let out a gasp. It has a seven-piece set that I love. All the pieces are of a medium-coloured wood that has what looks like veins of gold and silver swirling within it. I can’t take my eyes off it. All the bedding would look perfect in the crib and bassinet. I show it to Brayden and I can tell that he likes it too.

The next morning, Leila opened her eyes and blinked at the unfamiliar room, like she’d woken up in someone else's movie—one where she wasn’t the lead. The only thing she recognized was Wolfie, sprawled out on the other half of the four-poster bed, taking up more space than seemed possible for a dog. The morning light filtered through velvet curtains the color of overripe plums, casting a soft glow over the polished wood floors. The bed looked straight out of a European castle—mahogany, carved with the kind of craftsmanship that screamed, "I’ve got money, and I want you to know it." The sheets were Egyptian cotton, probably with a thread count higher than most people's salaries.

she asked, tossing her jacket into the laundry basket. “Privacy,” he blurted, then winced as pain shot through his mouth. She walked deeper into the room, pulling the scarf from her head. Her black hair spilled over her shoulders. “Stop acting so childish.” She kicked off her boots and pointed to the bed. “Come lie down. I’ll heat up some water.” Louis looked at his dirty clothes, then at the bed. “I’m good here.” “I’ve had a hectic day, so quit being stubborn and do as you're told,” she said, annoyed.

He was just too adorable! I stiffled a laugh before swinging the door open. Alex's room was smaller than mine, but still huge, like the rooms you can expect in a mansion. Instead of velvet, grey silk adorned the room with black in places of curtains and cusions. The bed was black oak wood, with black silk bedsheets and pillows and silver blankets and cool pillows. The whole room screamed royalty, just like the house.

We matched the rest of the house to those colors, and the mantelpiece in the living room even boasts a Gryffindor crest because the red and gold reminded us of the common room. Once James pulls the tree out of its box, we set about assembling it. The first half hour is a blur of “Ouch, I got scratched,” “I’ve been poked!” and “It’s not the Whomping Willow, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it started hitting us.” By the time the tree is up, our hands are so scratched I begin to suspect there’s a hidden cat among the branches. We string the lights and garlands before moving on to hanging the ornaments—including some rather inappropriate ones James and I painted at a holiday workshop a few years