#leather sofa and recliner set

[bestsofareview-blog]

How To Clean Leather Couch Naturally: Eco-Smart Tips

Explore how to clean your leather couch naturally. Our comprehensive guide provides easy steps to restore and maintain your furniture's elegance.

[sofas2024]

French Nordic Living Room Sofas Modern Minimalist Luxury Sectional Living Room Sofas Europe Lazy Fauteuils Salon Furniture

Get it now

[shambahvi]

Imported Furniture in Lucknow | Recliner sofa shops near Ansal

Welcome to The Sofa Hi Sofa, your destination for premium imported furniture in Lucknow. Our imported furniture showroom in Lucknow, located near Ansal, offers an exceptional collection of luxury sofas and seating options. From comfortable recliner sofas to stylish loveseat sofas and spacious sectional sofas, we have something to suit every taste and space. Our showroom also showcases exclusive Italian leather sofa sets, crafted for both elegance and durability. If you're searching for the best sofa furniture showroom near Ansal, look no further. Visit The Sofa Hi Sofa today for top-quality designs, impeccable service, and customized solutions that will transform your living space into a haven of comfort and style.

[zillifurniture]

Cozy up with Zilli Furniture's Cinetique 2-Seater Power Recliner - a harmonious fusion of comfort and style. Elevate your living room with this inviting and functional addition.

[jam3sacaster]

All I Need.

(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by darling @shmoppop 🫶🏽

Title derived from All I Need by Lloyd.

18+ FANFIC / SMUT! Reader character aged at 21. Hope you enjoy! 🩷

Declan had been unobtainable recently — anguished by Maud setting off for London, and conflicted deeply since meeting you. Drowning his sorrows with cheap whiskey and making his way through a pack of cigarettes in just under an hour, you had initially met Declan in the local pub, and found yourself transfixed with his acerbic Irish charm. And whilst he wanted nothing more than to tear your ruffled black cocktail dress from your body, he’d practised incredibly self restraint and denied your advances, informing you of his wife’s leave, but promptly giving you his address.

It was Saturday night, and the bitter Autumn night was drawing to a close, an incessant downpour of rain advancing onto The Priory. Immensely bored and already slightly tipsy, you stumbled up the driveway, only observing one small light on in the kitchen. Rapping a knock onto the front door, the hallway light subsequently flicked on. Dressed only in khaki tweed trousers held up with a black leather belt, Declan O’Hara opened the door with a disdainful expression, puffing furiously on a cigarette. “Yes?” He spat, violently suppressing the urge to smirk. “Hello, you mad, grumpy bastard.” You joked, pushing past him and making your way to the sitting room, collapsing onto the plush scarlet-red chaise lounge.

“What are ya’ doing here?” Declan asked, taking a seat on the matching sofa across from you. “I thought you could do with some company. I’ve got whiskey.” You grinned, brandishing a rather large bottle of Bell’s. Declan said nothing, but glared at you in scornful deliberation at being disturbed, or so you believed. I wonder how those lips would look if they were wrapped around my cock, he was actually thinking. When he’d sufficiently pushed the thought from his mind, Declan rose from the sofa to fetch some glasses. Taking the opportunity, you frantically rushed to undo the top button of your linen blue blouse, pushing up your cleavage. Slamming the glass tumblers onto the table, Declan returned and poured you both a brimming glass of whiskey.

-

It didn’t take long for the both of you to be completely intoxicated — Declan was such a terrible influence, and you had a remarkably low tolerance for whiskey. Gawping at Declan’s bear-like chest with a lecherous gaze, you sloppily unbuttoned your blouse, releasing your voluptuous breasts bursting out of an intricately laced white bra. “What the hell are ya’ doing?” Declan growled under his breath. “Sssh shhh.” You whispered, sliding from the sofa and crawling over to the chaise lounge on all fours. A salacious grin wiped itself across Declan’s lips, gaze firmly affixed on your bouncing breasts. Creeping over to him and unzipping his trousers, you tugged at them softly. Taking the hint, Declan kicked his trousers down to his ankles, his white boxers swiftly following them.

“Oh my.” You groaned, rubbing your nose across the outline of his growing cock. All Declan could do was sit back and watch. “You’re so big.” You gasped, releasing his cock from its confines. Taking his girth in between both hands, you flick your tongue across the tip, savouring every drop of his pre-cum, feeling the heat of your cunt grow as Declan’s growls increased. His brutish hand outstretched, stroking over your hazelnut locks, but you batted it away promptly. “No. Let me please you.” You mumbled through a mouthful of his cock, taking as much of it into your throat as you could. “Your mouth feels amazing, girl.” Declan purred, balling his fists until his knuckles grew white.

Cupping his balls with your right hand, you forced his cock into your throat, gagging with every motion. Drool had began to pour from the sides of your mouth like miniature waterfalls. Declan’s thighs were trembling under your touch — his head reclined back, jaw to the floor in ecstasy. “How does it feel, girl?” He muttered, watching as you unlocked your jaw even wider. Mumbling a distinct reply, you continued your barrage upon his cock, stroking his balls to coax him further into his orgasm. “Fuck, fuck ya’ gonna make me cum.” He spat, twitching frantically under your mouth. He loved taking a step back and watching you perform for him. “Mhm mhm.” You hummed, swirling your tongue around the base of his cock.

Before he could pull back, Declan shot his load of sweet cum down your throat, a thunderous groan accompanying every rope. His entire body contracted, as you pawed at his cock, not wanting a single drop to escape. “Fuck, you taste so good.” You whispered, sucking gently at the tip of his cock. Never would you have imagined taking control of Declan O’Hara.

“Give you what you want, cause your love is all I need. I’mma turn you on, with all the things I do.” - All I Need.

[ninibeingdelulu]

Lemon cake ✧

Plot: You’re his cute little wife, happily waiting for him to come home.

The rumbling roar of his motorcycle growling up the driveway had your face instantly lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning.

Toji was finally home after being gone for that extended undercover op - the first real solo mission he'd taken since you both decided to get married six months ago.

You barely had a chance to set down the mixing bowl cradled against your apron-covered belly before the front door was banging open to admit your husband's hulking, sweat-slick frame stomping across the threshold in a cloud of gunpowder and grime.

"Toji!" Came your gleeful squeal of delight as you scrambled towards those outstretched arms opening to envelop your petite figure against his heaving chest at last.

Nothing could've prepared you for just how fiercely those steel bands would clutch you close once they encircled your waist, though.

As if he'd been withering away without your warmth to cling to while facing down whatever fresh hells the past weeks had dragged him through beyond those city limits.

"Missed you so damn much, baby..." came the deep, guttural rasp muffled into the crown of your soft tresses while his battle-roughened palms roamed up and down your arched spine in long, soothing sweeps.

Like a man dying of thirst finally gulping down the most deliriously refreshing oasis.

Even the woodsy cologne teasing your senses beneath all those lingering metallic and cordite odors couldn't disguise just how eager he was to soak up your delicate floral fragrance again.

Taking heady lungfuls directly from the sensitive curve where your shoulder met your throat as he swayed you both lightly while cradling you so reverently against that granite-sculpted torso.

"I can tell..." you giggled out through beaming cheeks squished against that solid wall of muscle.

Making a show of pinching your nose shut and leaning back with a dramatized look of disgust to take in his weathered, disheveled appearance head-to-toe.

"You’re stinking, mister! What was this mission you went on - crawling through a septic tank?"

That deep timbre rumbled out past his smirking lips while one large palm cupped the back of your tousled crown to guide you forward again for a lingering brush against your forehead.

Tender as a whisper of gratitude for welcoming him back to your shared sanctuary after facing the ugliness of the world beyond too long...too lonely without your healing glow to guide him home once more.

"Let me rinse off this filth then we can snuggle back up on the couch and I'll tell you all about it, doll..."

Punctuating the promise with a gratuitous squeeze over your trim waist to savor that tiny, soft frame of yours safe in his crushing embrace once more.

"...Right after I take a sniff of whatever mouthwatering treat you got baking back there."

Squirming out of his covetous clutches with a dismissive roll of your eyes, you swatted his bicep before padding back over to the industrial oven's open portal just as the rich citrus zest began wafting forth on a fresh wave of heat pouring into the kitchen.

"Lemon cake - your favorite."

You sent him a cheeky smirk over one bare shoulder as the first molten golden peaks came spilling out.

"Figured you'd be too strung-out from your solo run to want a full spread waiting. So I made sure to have dessert ready for when you finally dragged that ass of yours back here again."

The grin bisecting those ruggedly chiseled features was positively rapacious now. Gray irises already devouring every succulent curve of your flushed, glistening silhouette framed within the oven's honeyed glow while he shed his combat boots to recline back onto the plush leather sofa.

"Less yappin', more strippin', Pipsqueak...then bring that sweet peach right over so we can kill two birds with one load of cream filling together."

With a derisive albeit thoroughly entertained scoff tossed over your shoulder, you bit back the indulgent smile tugging at your mouth before reaching up to unfasten your apron strings one-handed.

Just like that, that infuriatingly cocky beast was back on the prowl - chasing your suddenly racing pulse with each molten syllable leaking out past those sensuous lips already glistening with promise.

As if he'd only been lying in wait to pounce on that tantalizing opportunity to make up for all your nights spent far too cold and lonely without him crowding his overwhelming presence back where it belonged.

Maybe there wouldn't be any 'snuggling' for the next few hours after all...just another brand of delicious perspiration dripping between your tangled bodies throughout this indulgent reunion instead.

But what you agreed on, is that you weren’t approaching this man until he took a very long shower.

[sarahscribbles]

I humbly submit the following request for The Black Suit™️ drabbles:

Crawling onto Loki’s lap (hello, thighs) and using that infuriatingly taunting tie as leverage while you ride him.

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟖𝐤

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐠, 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐦!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢

𝐀𝐍: 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐊, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ;)

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Unsurprisingly, you hear the familiar smooth drawl of Loki’s voice before you’ve fully crossed the threshold of Tony’s study. 

“My, my, darling, I can feel the frustration rolling off you from here. Has something happened?” he asks innocently, not lifting his eyes from whatever book he’s got splayed across those firm thighs. 

For a second - only a second - any lingering annoyance that it’s taken you forty five minutes to find this menace that is the love of your life is forgotten. 

Loki is reclined back against the soft brown leather of the sofa with an almost empty glass of scotch held loosely in his hand. He’s still wearing that damn black suit, only now the jacket lies discarded over an ottoman and he’s rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. 

Even in the dim half light cast by the array of lamps, you can still see the veins protruding along his forearms. 

It’s nothing short of decadent filth, tasteful indecency, and it’s all for you. 

You cross your arms over your chest, fighting valiantly to stay composed given the sight before you. “What’s happened is that my boyfriend is a tease!” you reply, trying desperately to mask your arousal with irritation. 

There’s a soft thump as Loki snaps the book in his lap shut, followed by another as he tosses it carelessly to the other side of the sofa. “Oh? How dreadful. You have my sympathies, of course.”

He sets his glass to the side with a quiet clink of glass on mahogany and turns those devastating eyes back to you. They’re alive and dancing with mischief and unspoken debauchery, and when he spreads his thighs just that little bit wider, you feel any lingering resolve crumble to dust at your feet. 

“Perhaps you’d like to come over here and talk about it?” he offers with a sly grin. 

You roll your eyes with affectionate exasperation. “Menace.” 

Slipping your shoes off along the way, you pad across Tony’s expensive bear skin rug to take your seat on Loki’s lap, but two firm hands on your hips prevent you from doing so. 

“No,” Loki says simply and twirls you around easily so you’re facing him. He nudges one thigh between your legs and looks up at you, still wearing that wolfish smile. “Now sit.” 

Molten heat blossoms like a spring flower beneath your cheeks and stirs to life like a storm between your thighs. Such is the bewitching power of your lover that three simple words are enough to unravel you like a spool of thread.

Ignoring the steady, rhythmic thump of Tony’s sound system and the distant chatter of a hundred conversations taking place at once, you seat yourself obediently on Loki’s thigh. Through the skimpy lace of your underwear you can feel the material that covers his firm muscles; it’s soft and expensive and would likely feel heavenly as you…

“Darling, if you wish to relieve your frustrations, you only need ask.” Loki’s smooth voice breaks through the pink haze of your arousal at the same time his hands curl around your hips. 

You hadn’t realised how you’d been rocking them against his thigh. 

“Loki, come on!” you huff, locking your own hands around his wrists. “This isn’t fair!”

“Isn’t it?” He teases, smirking at you while pressing his thigh more snugly against your aching cunt. “I’m giving you exactly what you want. All you have to do is ask, dove.” 

He’s maddening when he’s like this. He knows there’s little to nothing you’ll deny him, even if it’s asking permission to ride his thigh. 

For a silent moment you do nothing but hold his gaze, but when he rocks his thigh against you once more, you feel the last of your resolve crumble to dust at your feet. 

Damn this menace!

Mischief glitters like stars in those pretty green eyes. You know that he loves moments like this, loves hearing you beg for his body. It would be easy to dismiss it as nothing more than an ego boost, but you’ve known him for long enough to know it’s just as much a search for reassurance that you love him and will only ever crave him. 

As if there has ever been any competition. 

You peer at him through your lashes with feigned demureness, running your hands along his thigh for added effect. “Please can I ride your thigh, Loki?” you ask softly, feeling his fingers twitch around your hip as you do.

“You may,” he replies, but his hands remain locked infuriatingly around your hips. “On one condition,” he adds, smirking even wider when you groan. 

“Come, now, darling, what did you expect?” he teases, lifting one hand from your hip to tweak a nipple through the thin material of your dress. You breathe out a curse and watch the familiar green shimmer of his seidr dance in the palm of his hand. 

You know it means mischief - as it so often does - but you can’t help but be struck dumb watching his magic at work. It’s soft yet powerful, beautiful yet dangerous. 

It’s Loki. 

“The condition is that you wear this,” he says, and holds up a deep black ring gag. “I’d rather enjoy seeing how messy you can get for me.” 

Searing arousal burns through your veins, so much so that you can’t stop the shiver that shakes your spine. You’ve had this man more times than you can count, in more positions than you can count, yet he never fails to find some new way to make you ache for him. 

“Con…condition accepted,” you tell him, already feeling the hoarseness creep into your voice. 

“Wonderful,” Loki answers. 

He works the gag into your mouth until it’s comfortably behind your teeth and fastens the strap behind your head. Almost instantly, you feel drool begin to collect on your bottom lip. Loki collects it on the pad of his thumb to smear it around your open lips, saying nothing as he admires you. 

“Mmm, darling, I already know what I’ll be using this gag for next,” he purrs, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You remember your safe word when you can’t speak?” 

Quickly, you raise your hand to snap your fingers. 

“Good girl,” he says and kisses your forehead. “I’m all yours, my love.” 

As you begin to grind on his thigh, you feel a familiar gentle warmth tingle between your thighs, and suddenly the soft material of his dress trousers is blissfully against your bare cunt. He raises his hand and you see your underwear dangling from his fingertips. The grin he gives you is wolfish as he then pushes them into his pocket. 

“ ‘uck!” you groan out, feeling your eyes roll in your head as you grind furiously against his thigh. 

The friction against your cunt is divine to the point that you briefly forget about the gag holding your mouth open. Until you suddenly become very aware of the drool dripping off your chin and down your neck. 

“Oh.” You look quickly to Loki without slowing down. “ ‘i ess.” 

“It is too beautiful to be ruined, darling, I agree,” Loki taunts and reaches for the thin straps at your shoulders. Easily, he pushes them off until the top half of your dress falls to pool below your stomach, leaving your breasts fully exposed to him.

“There we go,” he then says, and the mischievous glint in his eyes dares you to complain. 

“ ‘uck ake!” you say through laughter, but it melts to a moan when his fingers begin to tease your nipples. 

They twist and taunt, flick and squeeze, and his teasing touch almost sends you into orbit. You bear down on his thigh, chasing your release with renewed force when Loki collects a fingertip of escaped drool to smear it over your nipples. 

“Good girl,” he praises you, gripping your chin again to force your eyes on his. “Keep those lovely eyes on me, dove. I want to see every second of you falling apart.”

There’s a roughness beginning to lace his own words and it only fuels the flames licking furiously at your core. To know that this man desires you so deeply and so fully. You could get off on that fact alone. 

As the first tiny waves of your release begin to ripple through you, you reach for Loki’s tie, gripping it like a vice to help propel you towards the edge. You hear his sharp intake of breath, hear the deep, guttural curse that tumbles from his lips, and feel his fingers dig into your hips so hard you know they’ll leave a bruise. 

You know you must look a mess - panting and grooming with your dress pooled on Loki’s lap, all while your own saliva trickles down your chest - but each curse and praise that falls like spring rain from his lips assures you that he’s enjoying every second of it. 

To you, that’s all that ever matters. 

With each roll of your hips over Loki’s firm thigh, the coil in your stomach twists tighter and tighter. Your climax is building within you like a storm, each rocky wave of pleasure washing down on you with purpose as you grip Loki’s tie like a life raft. 

His cheeks are stained pink from watching you, and there’s a new, almost feral, light in his eyes. It’s you that’s exciting him, and it’s you he’s all too likely thinking of ravishing. It’s that alone that sends you right to the edge. 

“ ‘ease, ‘oki! ‘uck! ‘ease!” you beg him, knowing there’s no chance you can fight off the pleasure that’s bubbling to a crescendo inside you. 

“Yes, darling.” He answers immediately, gripping your hips with renewed strength to guide you through your release. “You have my permission. Be a good girl and cum for me.” 

It’s blinding. It’s a release so earth shattering that stars dance at the edge of your vision and tiny bells ring out a melody in your ears. Loki’s hands never leave your hips as you howl his name as best you can. You thank him, you curse and moan, you chant his name like a prayer until your orgasm fades to nothing but a pleasant tingle between your thighs.

And then you fall forward onto Loki’s chest, exhausted.

Those familiar strong arms quickly wrap around you and deft fingers undo the gag. With care, he eases it from between your lips, swiftly running his finger along your jaw to ease the ache and to clean you up. 

“Beautiful, my darling,” he murmurs softly into your hair as you rest against his shoulder. “I’m so very proud of you.” 

You feel his lips against the crown of your head and nuzzle further into his neck. His arms are heavy and comforting across your back, and the silk of his shirt is soft and cool beneath your cheek. It would be all too easy to fall over to sleep and Loki seems to be in no rush to break the spell. 

“Love you,” you say quietly against his neck.

He squeezes you in reply. “As I love you. I wouldn’t sleep for too long, dove. The night is still young, afterall.”

He doesn’t see the excited smile that crosses your lips.

[bestsofareview-blog]

How To Clean Leather Couch Naturally

Learn how to clean your leather couch naturally with our expert tips. Keep your furniture looking pristine while using safe, eco-friendly cleaning methods.

[phoebe-delia]

i can go anywhere i want, just not home

Going back to my Drarry and TS roots! Here's "my tears ricochet" by Taylor Swift for @drarrymicrofic

"I knew you weren't dead."

Draco smirked, triumphant, and waited for Potter to reply—to react. But he didn't seem overly surprised to see Draco on his doorstep. He sighed and scratched at his beard. "Come in, I guess," he grumbled, gesturing vaguely inside the small cabin in the middle of Tumbleweed, U.S.A.

There was tea, at least, even if it was served in a strange, thick yet lightweight cup. "Styrofoam," Potter said when Draco just frowned at the offering. "It's what I've got. It's safe. Just drink it."

So Draco did, sitting on a lumpy sofa, the red fabric torn in a few places and a bit frayed. He noticed some scratches on the small wooden coffee table in front of him; no doubt from Potter propping his feet up, shoes and all. Now, Potter opted for a brown faux leather recliner across from him, eyeing Draco over his own steaming cup.

"How'd you find me?"

"I was in the neighborhood."

"In rural America?"

"Yes."

"You?"

"Yes, Potter."

"Why are you here?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me why you want the world to think you're dead."

"Not everyone. Just most people. My friends know where I am, if that's your concern."

"Potter—"

"Fine," Potter said with a sigh. "I left because I had to. The faking-my-death part was so no one would follow me."

The silence stretched between them for long moments. Draco took another sip of tea.

"Your turn, Malfoy."

Draco took another sip and set his cup down on the coffee table. "You're not the only one running away."

Potter scoffed. "Speak for yourself. I didn't run away."

"What do you call leaving abruptly and permanently without so much as a goodbye?"

"I call it none of your fucking business," Potter nearly growled. "I left. I don't owe you, of all people, an explanation."

Draco leaned back against the couch, tilting his head as he considered Potter. "No, I suppose you don't." He then rose from his seat, vanished the cup, and nodded once. "Well, this has been great fun. Thanks for the tea."

Draco took quick strides toward the door and was about to open—

"Wait!"

He paused, but he didn't turn around. "Yes?"

"You never said—how did you find me?"

Draco chuckled. He opened the door and turned his head to look back over his shoulder at Potter.

"Like I said. I was in the neighborhood."

"But why?"

Draco let his smirk stretch wide. "And that's what I call: none of your fucking business."

[sofas2024]

Simple Nordic Modern Sofa Chair Relax White Storage Recliner Lazzy Sofa Chair Lounge Designer Canape Lit Apartment Furniture

Git it now

[happy-beeeps]

The Girl With the Porg Tattoo

Summary: Hunter asks you to give him a tattoo… things get out of hand quickly.

Pairing: hunter x artist!reader

Warnings: 18+!!! NSFW Minors DNI!!!! Afab reader, P-in-V sex, face riding, oral sex (females receiving,) fingering, I guess kind of pain kink if you realllly squint, brief mentions of death and canon typical violence! Also I just don’t have it in me to try and configure the safety logistics of tattooing in universe, so obligatory please don’t tattoo yourselves without proper training and safety and go to professionals!

WC: 4k

Technically a continuation, read part one here!

A/N: it’s my birthday (when I’m writing this but it’s actually coming out a few days later) but I’m giving y’all a gift because y’all are the greatest gift to me! This is my first smut fic and I’m honestly really pleased with it!!! Biiiiig shoutout to @starboytech for being my beta reader through this (sometimes the logistics are hard ok)

18+ below the cut

It had been a few weeks since you and Hunter’s relationship had evolved from cautious avoidance to whirlwind romance. Leaning into your feelings and learning to truly exist around each other had been intoxicating, and you had quickly become accustomed to the male presence in your home. Sure, you had had the batch around for dinners (or times when they just needed good rest) but having Hunter here alone was… different.

Not to mention having him near you sent your mind spinning, something warm and heavy growing steadily in your chest.

You were walking back from your kitchen, holding two mugs of caf in hand to where Hunter sat sprawled across your couch, idyly flipping through one of the sketchbooks you had left around. You set the mug down on the table and he looked up at you in thanks, scooching downwards so you could pick up his head to rest on your lap.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” your hands went to rest in his hair, deftly removing his bandana to give you untethered access to the soft locks.

“You’re so talented.” He murmured, thumbing over a design you had sketched of a large bloom on a bush outside your apartment.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” you sighed, settling against him as he looked at the design. You began absentmindedly tracing the exposed ink on his hands and forearms, the two of you simply existing in the soft silence of the moment.

“Hey, wait a second,” he moved, standing up quickly and moving towards the bag he had brought to your apartment from the Marauder.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something,” he tossed over his shoulder, rummaging through the leather duffle before letting out a triumphant humph and coming back to the sofa. On the small table in front of it he set down a sealed needle, a roll of clear bactatape, and a small vial of black liquid.

With an easy motion he pulled his tunic up and over his head, discarding it on your floor and settling back on your couch.

“Getting comfortable, are we?”

“I want you to tattoo me.” He stated, as matter of factor as if he asked what the weather was.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.” He smirked, bringing both arms up to rest lazily behind his head.

“Honey… don’t take this the wrong way, but… do you even have space?”

He scoffed, moving to place a hand on his chest, “sure I do, right here.”

He wasn’t wrong, the entire right side of his body was devoid of tattoos, but it felt…wrong to be the one marking the pristine canvas of his skin.

“Hunter… I’ve never done this before.”

“I trust you entirely. Besides, can’t exactly go to my old guy anymore.” He said it with such ease, but from the brief flash of pain on his face you knew he must have been a lost brother.

“Ok… ok, I can try. But you can’t be mad if I hate it.”

“Can’t imagine hating anything you’d do.”

You got off the couch and moved him to recline. He opened the package with the needle, and the ink, and explained the process to you. You were to simply dip the needle into the ink and poke the design into his skin. When it was done, you’d cover it with the bacta tape and it would be fully healed by morning.

After the first mark, it began to get easier, and you slowly started to move with a practiced comfort along his chest, the bloom he had picked from your sketchbook slowly coming to life before you. You were able to start having mindless chatter, until a moment of curiosity got the better of you.

“Why did you start getting tattoos?” You asked, and he breathed in, seemingly formulating his response in his mind.

“When I was young, you know, like a kid in a way, I was the only one of my squad who wasn’t visibly…different. And the regs, they used to try and get in our way a lot, especially Wrecker and Tech and Cross,” he winced a tiny bit at the last name, and from the stories you’d been told, you knew it must’ve been painful for him to reminisce.

“When I started growing my hair out, it helped a little, you know. I started to look different. And that helped. I was the leader, I’m the oldest. I had to look out for them.”

“And then?”

“We were shinies, coming back to Kamino right after our first mission…it was hard. Search and rescue,” he paused, searching your face for any sign of discomfort in the topic. When he found none, he continued.

“Not many survivors. We got sent on a lot of those missions at first. I’m good at…recovery. So the regs started saying a visit from me was like a visit from death. I had been looking for a way to set myself apart, to show my squad I was with them, permanently. So I went to the reg who did Crosshair’s ink and…” he gestured to the skull on his face, and you smiled softly at him.

“You got a face tattoo as your first tattoo?”

“It’s not that out of the ordinary for a clone,” he shrugged slightly when you lifted the needle off his chest. “Sorry for the downer of a story, sure that’s not what you had in mind.”

“I’m here for all parts of your story Hunter, not just the easy ones. They all matter to me.”

He didn’t say anything at first, just moved to place his hand on your thigh while you worked, giving it a soft squeeze in appreciation.

“You got any ink?” He asked abruptly, and you smiled down at him, moving the hand not doing the tattooing to softly play with his hair.

“Nah, but maybe one day. I’m saving it for something special.”

“What would you get?”

“I don’t know…something cute, something happy, maybe here,” you pointed to the spot just above your ankle bone. “My roommate at university had a really long quote in her native tongue right there once,” you traced a line up your ankle a few inches and looked back at him. “I think that’s a nice spot.”

“Feet hurt pretty bad, you think you’re ready for that?”

“Only if you hold my hand.”

He smiled easy at you, his hand coming up to settle on your waist. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

There was a few minutes of silence again while you worked at some of the more intricate line work, and he started again. “Say you had to pick something right now.”

You sighed before moving the needle off his chest and looking at him with an eyebrow raised. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I think… maybe a porg.”

He didn’t laugh, to his credit, just looked at you for a moment before asking slowly, “like… the bird?”

You groaned, bringing your head to your hands. “I almost wished you’d just laugh at me!”

“No, no I think it’s cute!” He exclaimed, moving up more to touch your arm. “It… makes sense.”

“Really? You don’t think it’s dumb?”

“Nah, it makes sense for you. Porgs are cute, you’re cute. Checks out for me.”

You gave him a small smile before starting up again. “You think porgs are cute?”

He scoffed, “course. I’m a soldier, not an animal.”

* * *

The rest of the tattoo was easier, but Hunter began to shift under your touch, especially under the close proximity. His fidgeting was making you nervous, but also planting a needy kind of restlessness somewhere deep inside you.

“I’m almost done,” your voice was barely above a whisper, the final lines of the black ink flower on his chest coming to life as you moved the needle across the tanned skin there. “Let me get a better angle.” You moved from your spot on his side and threw your legs on either side of his hips. You were straddling him, one hand pressed firm on his abdomen to keep you steady. You tried to keep your eyes focused on the task at hand, you’re permanently marking him after all, but you can’t help but catch your attention drifting to the skeletal designs that drag down his torso.

Or how they dipped below the pair of gray sweat pants that hang dangerously low on his hips.

“Don’t get distracted,” Hunter purrs, removing one hand from its resting place behind his head to trace small circles on the side of your thigh. He looked so casual, not an ounce of pain flickered across his face when you dragged the needle over and over the design. You suppose he’s done this before enough, and his eyes aren’t even watching your hands, instead raking over your body hovering over him.

“Don’t watch me like that.” You whispered, and his hand moved to lay flat on the upper part of your thigh, dangerously close to palming your ass.

“Do I make you nervous?” He joked, moving his fingers cautiously to knead the soft skin and muscle there. You felt your legs clench around his hips involuntarily and it made your hand go shaky, and you lifted up the needle in frustration.

“Hunter.” You warned, and he removed his hand from its spot, bringing it up as if to mime sorry. “I’m nearly there, this’ll be done soon.”

“In a rush for something?” The tone sends a blush to your cheeks you couldn’t hide, and it worked in response enough. He leaned up unexpectedly and moved so he was sitting nearly nose to nose with you. He did nothing aside from drag his eyes, now darkened with lust, across your body, and reach a hand down to the hem of your shirt. “You don’t need this, do you?” he murmured, and you shook your head no furiously. He took your response as permission and removed the garment fast, then hooking both hands into the waistband of your shorts. “Might as well be thorough,” he chided, and you maneuvered yourself up to give him the access to remove the cumbersome layer. He leaned back then, hands going behind his head, “you can finish up, take your time.”

The teasing look in his eyes was not easily missed.

Your hand shook now more than ever as you sat straddled across Hunter’s hips in nothing but your bra and panties. You and Hunter had yet to sleep together, so you’ve been a bit methodical in picking undergarments recently, grateful now to be in a matching lacy set. You leaned forward again, working on those finishing lines, and the unrestricted friction of moving across his lap sent heat rocketing to your core at such a speed, you had half a mind to toss the needle to the side now. He could sense it, you knew it, and he responded by shifting slightly under your touch, just enough for your core to rub barely across his hard length through his pants.

The movement made you gasp in surprise, and you moved to furiously finish the last line of the bloom on his pec. “You’re done,” you said, breathier than you intended, and he scooched upright and tilted his head down to look at it, one hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you pressed against him as much as possible, “you sit pretty good.”

You reached to the side near the small coffee table where you’ve left the clear bactapatch to cover the exposed ink, pressing it against his chest flush against the art. He moved closer to you, and you’re now perched on his lap as he sits fully upright. “Bet you sit even better.”

He moved quickly, surging the gap between your mouths with a bruising kiss, one hand planting itself firmly on the side of your face, fingers interlacing themselves with your hair. Your arms came up quick to run long down the exposed skin of your back, pressing yourself into him with a desperation you hadn’t realized you’d been holding onto. He was warm against your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lower lip in a way that you’re certain will leave the skin there bruised purple, though you can’t say you mind.

“Been wanting this,” he mumbled, removing his lips from yours and pressing himself into the crook of your neck while his hands worked to unfasten your breastband. “This okay? I don’t want to move too fast.”

“More than okay,” you groaned in a blend of relief and agony when Hunter exposed your breasts to the cool air of your apartment and the hot skin of his hands. “I’ve wanted you, wanted this, since forever.”

“Forever huh?” he said, rubbing his thumb across the stiffened peak of your nipple while guiding you over his hard length. He moved to massage the skin of your breasts with nimble, fast hands, before removing them entirely, bringing one to your upper back and the other guiding you down. He leaned back and pulled you up his chest, though you were careful to position yourself away from the fragile bacta patch. “Can you show me how well you sit?” He moved you upright once more to give your legs the freedom to shimmy yourself out of your panties, your core now exposed to the chill of the room. With a quick, easy move he pulled you even closer, and suddenly you’re being hoisted up, balanced precariously close to his face, the hook of his nose barely brushing the hypersensitive bud of your clit.

“Hunter,” you moaned, using one hand to steady yourself on the back of the couch and the other on the arm behind his head.

He responded by doing…nothing, for a moment actually. You worried that he was suddenly overstimulated by the experience or, maker forbid, turned off by you. “Mesh’la…” he breathed, his voice alone dripping in lust. “You have no idea how bad I need this, need to taste you.”

“Then show me.” You replied, surprised slightly by the boldness of your tone.

If he was surprised or put off by it, he didn’t show it, responding instead by swiping his tongue from the bottom of your slit to the top, and you throw your head back from the sheer pleasure of it all. He snaked both arms around your thighs, careful to hold you in place on your spot just atop his face. He moved with ease, absolutely devouring you whole. He switched his focus to your clit, where he kisses and sucks at the bud of nerves there like a man starved.

You couldn’t help but rock your hips forward, desperate for any kind of friction while his tongue moved, and it was on your third rock forward that his fingers worked themselves deep into your thighs. “I thought you were gonna show me how you sit cyar’ika?”

“Need more,” you forced out, your own hands moving down to work themselves against yourself as he removes his mouth, “need you.”

“Not yet, need you to come for me first.”

As quick as his mouth left, it came back–sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin and leaving love bites you knew you’d feel in the morning on the inside of your thighs. If dying from pleasure was possible, you were certain you’d have been dead long ago with the attention and ferocity that he moved against you. In a moment, he’d found just the right spot, and your own moans began to pick up in response.

You knew he knew, Hunter always knew, and he worked that spot even more, the feeling growing closer in your core, the heat building into something explosive. “Come on beautiful, show me you’re mine,” he mumbled, and it was exactly what you needed to push you over the edge, your release sending you backwards into a point of no return. This was it, you were certain, this is the best any woman could ever feel. Hunter’s eyes never lost you as he drank in your release, before gently placing his arms on your back and shuffling you to his lap. From there he moved to stand, looping your legs gently around his waist and hoisting you up against him, moving to where he knew your bed was.

You were grateful for his care in the moment, you didn’t think you could even move if you wanted to, aftershocks still coursing through your body. Hunter didn’t stop, though, he simply kept kissing your neck, your jaw, your lips, whispering sweet nothing against your ear.

“So beautiful, my girl. Don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he murmured, laying you with your back on your bed, before moving to cage you in with his arms.

“I could say the same thing to you,” you moved to palm his hard cock through his pants, and you could see it clearly straining against the thin gray fabric. “Need you Hunter, all of you.”

He looked at with you a devilish grin, moving quickly to work the pants and boxers off his body. In a moment he was bare before you, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever recover.

You’d heard… stories from your friends at university about clones before, the few that had spent a night at 79’s for a quick hookup or met a rogue squadron when they had been on Ord Mantell before. The stories had left you blushing, and you certainly understood why.

He was big, bigger than you had anticipated, and the sight of his tanned skin now exposed was enough to revitalize you, and you lunged at him with a fervor, surging to kiss him with a force that struck him by surprise.

He ran a hand down the side of your cheek before pausing to palm one of your breasts, carefully toying with the stiffened peak of your nipple. “Need to get you ready princess,” he hummed before dragging his hand further down your torso, his fingers dragging long and low against your entrance before dipping inside.

You arched against his touch, your head rolling back onto your pillow as you rasped out his name in pure bliss.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy,” he bit out, but the harsh tone of his words didn’t match the adoration he showed you when you looked up at you, before pumping his cock between his hands and coating it with your arousal. “Are you-“

“Safe, it’s ok, inside,” you said, shifting your legs wider and moving to grab his biceps in anticipation. You had long forgone the ability to create coherent sentences, you had simply needed to feel him.

He nodded before beginning to move into you, his head pushing against your walls with such blissful pressure your eyes shot wide open. He groaned something beautiful as he pushed himself fully into you until he was entirely sheathed, and the two of you stayed like that for a moment—you to catch you breath and for him to get his bearings.

“You feel better than I could’ve imagined mesh’la,” he rasped, and began the agonizingly perfect process of dragging himself out of you, rocking back in slowly, “I’ve never felt anything as good as you, fuck, you’re so perfect, made just for me.”

“Hunter, please, you don’t need to be gentle.” You said, arms grasping at his biceps as you watched the chain around his neck dangle loosely in front of you.

“We’ll see what you think tomorrow morning,” he chided, before pumping in and out of you at a breakneck pace. He looked utterly perfect, and your gaze couldn’t help but drag down his chiseled abdomen to watch the spot where ink met tanned skin, and where it disappeared inside of you. With each pump you could feel yourself clench tighter around him. Was it even possible to have an orgasam this good two times in a row? You literally didn’t know how you’d ever live without this man again.

Your eyes threatened to flutter close as he continued his relentless pace, until one of his hands moved to wrap itself against yours, fingers threading themselves in yours. “Getting closer, do you think you’ve got one more for me?” He rasped out, before moving to suck on your neck, just near the juncture of your shoulder. He moved you just a bit to get closer, using the hand previously wrapped in yours to hoist your hips up higher to meet him, allowing him to hit a new, deeper angle you hadn’t even realized was even possible.

“Hunter, I’m gonna-“

“That’s it princess, let me hear you,” he said, continuing his pace against that spot that felt ohsoright, and that familiar sensation blossomed in your stomach, growing larger with each thrust, each brush of his head against the sensitive part of your walls when in just a moment you were coming completely undone for him again, your hands wrapping themselves in his hair and pulllling at the strands there.

“Fuck, mesh’la…” he rasped, and you he soon followed in his own release, spurred onward by the vice your pussy had put him in. You felt his warmth around you and the two of you simply stayed like that for a moment, just resting against one another while your heartbeats steadied themselves out against each other.

What felt like hours later but was probably a matter of minutes, Hunter removed himself from his spot against you, where you had been lazily dragging your nails down his back, to press a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Hey,” he whispered, pushing himself up and propping himself up on his elbows.

“Hey yourself, handsome,” you said, bringing a hand up to rest along his cheek.

He leaned in to press a kiss against your palm before groaning and pushing himself fully off of you. “Let’s get you cleaned up, care to join me in the fresher?”

* * *

“You’re making me nervous…”

“I’ve been on the other end of this a dozen times, you’re gonna be fine.”

“Sure, I believe you.” You rolled your eyes and looked at Hunter, who was focused intently at the skin on your ankle, needle and black ink balancing precariously on the table to his side. His hair was wet and pulled back in one of your ties, and he was squinting at the small design he was working at, his tongue pointing out at the corner of his mouth.

“You made it look so easy,”

“I make everything look easy.”

Hunter broke his concentration to look up at you, a look you hoped was akin to love radiating off of him. “Don’t be mad if you don’t like it.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I think it looks good.”

“Then I’ll love it.”

The unsaid sentence hung loud in the air and the clarity of your omission seemed to strike you just as fast. He said nothing, only beamed up at you, before placing the needle down and rocking backwards. “I think I’m done.”

You moved closer to inspect his work, and that warm fuzzy feeling returned in your chest. His line work was shaky, the shading less precise, but honestly… he was pretty good. The little porg was looking up at you with its big eyes, a smile tucked on its face. You were right, it had already started to make you uncontrollably happy.

Hunter had unwrapped the bactaseal and placed it gently on your newly inked ankle, pressing it down with a gentleness that almost startled you after his previous show of unrestrained passion. “Welcome to the club.”

“Happy to be here,” you leaned to kiss him softly on the lips before pulling away. “I’m happy you were the first to do it.”

He pulled you in close to his chest, running a hand gently down your back before settling itself in your hair, curling it around his fingers. “They say you never forget your first…”

You looked up at him and saw it, that same unspoken decoration you had given him earlier. You both didn’t need to say it yet, you both knew. Instead you buried yourself closer in his chest, murmuring softly, “that’s the idea.”

[franklyshipping]

No-One Is Above A Smile ~ A Markiplier and Ethan Nestor Ego Fanfic

Hello again! This time we're writing from a fab prompt from @coolm456 featuring not just Unus & Annus, but Darkiplier too! This is a fun one, so without further ado LET'S DO THIS!

TAGGING: @darkipli-ler

The primary living room of the ego manor was usually very sophisticated, full of leather furnishings, fine mahogany, with a colour scheme of dark browns, reds, and glimmers of gold. Today it was still sophisticated, but there was more of a monochrome vibe filling the room courtesy of the trio using it as their “hangout” space. Dark was in his favourite armchair, scotch resting on his knee as he let himself relax. Annus was reclined on one of the sofas with his eyes closed, a peel-off charcoal face mask in place. Meanwhile, Unus was sat cross-legged on the carpet with about six blankets covering him, and Dark Chica was laying in his lap and boofing softly for tummy rubs. It was an unusual scene for sure, but this time of decompression was much needed for the trio, just to have a little break from the chaos for once. It was mostly silent other than steady breathing, but every few minutes Unus would snort or giggle as Dark Chica spontaneously licked his cheek or ear. At the sound of his giggle Annus smiled subtly, and Dark raised an amused eyebrow.

‘Having fun Unus?’

Dark asked, and Unus grinned. Today he’d swayed away from his stoic side to his more giddy self, mainly due to having Dark Chica’s attention.

‘Yohour dog is the behest!’

He replied, and Dark Chica immediately boofed and licked at his neck, which happened to be a particularly ticklish spot. Unus scrunched up with a giggle as Dark chuckled and Annus rolled his eyes. The elder of the existential pair sat up on his sofa, peeling his face mask off effortlessly as he smirked.

‘I swear you somehow get more ticklish every day.’

‘I do not.’

‘Yes you do.’

‘No I do no–AH!’

Annus’ fingers darted out to flutter at the back of Unus’ neck, coaxing out yet another torrent of giggles which in turn excited Dark Chica more so she licked one of Unus’ ears. The younger man’s cheeks reddened as he batted Annus’ hand, attempting to clear his throat as he glared up at him. Dark bit back a chuckle as he observed, shaking his head lightly as Annus mocked.

‘I hope I didn’t embarrass you.’

‘Annus I swear I will go for your armpits if you don’t shut up.’

‘Oh my, is that meant to be a threat?’

Annus taunted. Unus appraised him, all stretched out without a care in the world. In a flash Unus suddenly darted his hand out towards one of his armpits in a feint, and Annus suddenly lowered his arms to protect himself, letting out a nervous noise from his throat. Annus frowned as Unus grinned at him, giggling and returning his hands to Dark Chica’s belly.

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Oh… shut up.’

Unus snickered as a slight smile appeared on Annus’ face. Dark rolled his eyes at the pair of them, amazed that two existential beings such as them could be so endearingly ridiculous and wholesome. He sipped at his drink and remarked amusedly.

‘I had no idea you two were getting so soft.’

Annus raised an eyebrow at Dark as Unus gaped, the two replying in tandem.

‘Excuse me?’

‘We are not soft!’

Unus’ particular indignance made Dark snort as he set down his drink, and Annus narrowed his eyes as the shadowy man replied.

‘And yet those tickle spots of yours suggest otherwise.’

Until that point Dark Chica had been flopped fully horizontally and on the verge of a nap, but hearing the word “tickle” from her dad’s mouth made her perk up. Suddenly she was paying attention, but no-one else quite noticed.

‘Those don’t indicate anything of the kind, everyone has them.’

Annus retorted, and Dark sneered.

‘Do they?’

‘Don’t you?’

‘Oh please.’

Dark chuckled, and Unus and Annus shared a blatantly surprised look at the implication. Was Dark… not ticklish? Both of them racked their shared memories, certain that they’d heard somewhere that Dark was ticklish like every other ego in the manor. And yet… the conviction with which he spoke, the casualness, was undoubtedly very convincing. Unus couldn’t help but gape at him, the idea of someone not being ticklish just baffling him.

‘You can’t be serious?!’

‘I’m always serious, Unus. I’m sorry to disappoint you.’

Dark replied with a little grin, internally crowing at himself at the prospect of actually getting away with this. This had to be the most bold-faced lie he’d told in a while, and the idea that it was actually working rather tickled him, if you’ll pardon the pun. Meanwhile, Unus and Annus felt bamboozled, which was a rare thing for the pair. Dark had been the one to educate them on tickling in the first place, but now they thought about it they’d never seen him getting tickled himself. Could it really be true?

Amidst all of this… Dark Chica’s attention darted from the shocked pair, to her smug dad. Despite her being a supposedly “dark” puppo, she was in fact a very good girl and very smart girl indeed. She was taking in the interaction with far more intelligence than you might think – in fact, she was always able to sense when her dad was telling a sneaky lie. She also remembered hearing the world “tickle”… and everything made sense in her belly-rub-loving brain. So, she figured she’d get in on the fun.

In an instant she’d popped up on her feet, and bounded to Dark whilst wagging her floofy tail. Dark naturally reached out to give her some chin scratches, which she let herself enjoy for a few moments… but then to everyone’s utter shock she chomped down (harmlessly) on one of his shins and pulled him out of his chair onto the carpet! Dark yelped out as he landed on his back with a thump, making Unus and Annus bite back laughs.

‘Wha– Chica?!’

Dark looked at her in disbelief – he knew she was playful, but this was a lot! Dark Chica boofed at him and put a paw of his chest so he couldn’t sit up, before looking at Unus and Annus. The silence made it clear that everyone was confused, until the duo watched her start nudging at Dark’s and neck with her wet nose as Dark spluttered. That was when they realised. She was trying to tell them something very interesting indeed, and Dark had realised it too. He let out a casual chuckle, clearing his throat a little as he tried and failed to sit up.

‘Hah, alright Chica alright, we can play just–’

‘Hold on there Dark, I think Chica’s trying to show us something.’

Annus interrupted, a thin grin on his face as he and Unus shared a devious look… before pouncing together and pinning Dark down properly. Dark Chica barked with excitement, her tail wagging as Dark grunted and struggled and let out a number of vague threats… until Unus started fluttering his fingers down the sides of his neck.

‘What have we here?’

‘Nothing!’

‘Are you sure? Chica seems to think it’s something.’

‘Unus, Annus, let me go!’

He grunted, but the wobbly smile on his face made Unus and Annus share another grin. Dark Chica boofed again, and Annus chuckled as he scratched fondly behind her ear.

‘Is your master lying to us, hmm? Is he ticklish?’

Dark’s face reddened as Dark Chica boofed, wagged her tail harder, and licked Annus’ cheek for good measure. That was all the confirmation they needed. Dark let out another series of grunts, gritting his teeth and trying not to giggle as Unus’ fingers kept fluttering.

‘Unus!’

‘Yeah?’

‘D-Desihist this!’

‘Desist what?’

Dark went to speak again, but ended up snorting and chuckling as the flutters snuck behind his vulnerable ears. He tossed his head weakly, his fresh giggles taking all the heat out of his growl.

‘I’ll gehet yohohou fohor thihihis!’

Unus grinned and snickered, whilst Annus leaned over Dark with a twinkle in his eyes.

‘Did you just threaten my other half?’

Dark couldn’t ignore the chill he got down his spine, Annus’ voice echoing a little in his ears. Then before he knew it, a laugh had exploded out of him as Annus’ hands delved beneath his shirt, scratching swiftly at his sides. Dark jerked and twitched, but his hands were pinned beneath Annus’ knees, and he had no chance of freeing them now.

‘Yehehes! Yohohou wohon’t gehet away wihith thihihis, eheither of yohou!’

He exclaimed, trying to maintain some semblance of a tough façade. Unus giggled as Annus smirked.

‘Somehow that doesn’t fill me with dread.’

Annus continued his scratches as Unus’ fingertips zeroed in behind Dark’s ears, tracing the shells as Dark tried to toss his head even more – he was refusing to admit to himself that he was screwed, even though it was so adorably obvious.

‘Dahamnit gehehet ohohoff mehe!’

‘Aww, this doesn’t tickle does it–?’

‘SHUHUT IHIT!’

Unus snickered at Dark’s outburst as he and Annus continued their tickling, Unus’ fingertips now teasing right behind Dark’s earlobes – an utterly maddening tickle spot, by the way – whilst Annus’ thumbs were massaging circles into the dips of Dark’s fleshy sides. All Dark could do was belly laugh and thrash about, meanwhile Dark Chica was sat and watching with a happy look on her face – though occasionally she did playfully nudge Dark’s shirt or lick his face.

‘Sounds like Chica loves that laughter of yours Dark, I wonder if we can make it louder?’

Annus mused, and started squeezing Dark’s sides rapidly to make him cackle – it got so intense that Unus had to abandon his ears to hold his arms as he tugged at them. Unus had Dark in a half hug, giggling as Dark howled with a red face, his eyes flickering with crimson and blue flashes.

‘AHAHANNUS DOHOHON’T!’

‘Listen to that laugh! I think he’s enjoying that Annus.’

‘I quite agree Unus.’

Dark’s laughter was deep and warm as it reverberated around the room, like his mirth was a mighty opera. His hair was quickly becoming dishevelled as he struggled vainly against the tickling (which he was secretly enjoying, but Unus and Annus didn’t need to know that). It had been quite a while since Dark had been tickled so thoroughly, and honestly? It was even more fulfilling than he’d remembered. Though, Dark couldn’t help but kick as the tickles at his sides grew deeper and more intense, his instinct to wriggle free irresistible.

‘UNHAHAHAND MEHE!’

‘Why should we do that?’

‘BEHEHECAUSE IHI SAHAID SOHO!’

‘Hmm, I suppose that is an option…’

Annus remarked. Then Unus grinned and piped up.

‘Maybe if you admit how ticklish you are we’ll let you go.’

Dark’s lips parted in shock. The audacity of the demand was one thing, but the embarrassing nature of it was what really took the damn biscuit!

‘I would be amenable to that. What do you say Dark, will you confess?’

Thankfully Annus eased up on the tickling for a moment, allowing him to catch his breath, before he spluttered his indignant response. As if Dark would give in so easily!

‘Absolutely not!’

Dark started kicking again in an attempt to escape, though the existential duo didn’t miss the smile he was wearing – the fun of the whole thing was obvious, and they were happy to keep playing. Unus laughed as he hugged Dark’s torso again to try and keep him down as Annus resorted to grabbing at Dark’s legs, his hands gripping his knees and squeezing them… which drew out the most colossal shriek from Dark. There was a moment of silence as everyone looked at each other. Unus grinned, Annus raised an eyebrow, Dark Chica boofed, and a wobbly smile appeared on Dark’s face as he cleared his throat.

‘Annus.’

‘Oh dear, what’s this?’

‘Annus, my friend–’

‘I think I know just how to persuade you.’

‘Annus wait I–AHH! NOHOHONONONO NOHOT THEHEHERE!’

Dark was a hysterical mess in seconds. Gone was any semblance of the smart elegance which hung from his figure every day, for here now he was merely a man whose kneecaps were ticklish as hell. Annus was delightedly squeezing them, pinching them, rubbing them with his thumbs and forefingers as Dark cackled and jerked. Meanwhile Dark Chica had started barking along excitedly and doing tippy-tappies, happy to see her dad laughing this hard. Unus giggled along, giving Dark’s arms a squeeze.

‘I think you’ve got his sweet spot.’

‘Mm so do I, I wonder if he’s considering a little confession yet?’

‘It’s hard to tell, I think we keep this up for a few minutes.’

‘Fine by me.’

And so they did. Five minutes objectively is not such a long time, unless you’re being tickled of course. Then it might as well be five centuries! Dark was helpless as his knees were tickled within an inch of their life, his suit trousers offering no protection as misty grey tears built in his eyes. Eventually he knew he had to do it. He had to admit defeat, though it pained him to even think of it.

‘THIHIHIS IHIS TOHOHORMENT!!’

‘It doesn’t have to be a torment, you know what we wish to hear.’

‘YOHOHOU AHARE EHEVIHIL!!’

‘I shall take that as a compliment.’

Annus smirked as Dark let out yet another howl of laughter… before he finally conceded.

‘ALRIHIGHT ALRIGHT IHIHI’M TIHICKLISH DAMNIT IHI’M TICKLIHIHISH!!’

Unus and Annus shared a satisfied grin, before they released him carefully from their tickly grip. He remained on the carpet, and slowly rolled into his side and tucked his knees up to his  chest as he panted. He closed his eyes for a few moments, his smile lingering as he felt himself start to calm down. When he opened his eyes, and before he could say a word, he was greeted by Dark Chica lying by him on her belly. She licked his cheek, and he huffed fondly.

‘You were absolutely no help.’

She boofed happily and licked his nose, making him laugh as he sat up – naturally she flopped in his lap, earning her some affectionate belly scratches as her tail thumped rhythmically on the floor. Dark looked between Unus and Annus, his eyes narrowed yet warm.

‘You’re both lucky I value our friendship.’

‘And we value yours.’

Annus replied as Unus grinned, before sitting close so he could scratch behind Dark Chica’s ears softly. Dark smiled lightly as he and Annus shared another look… and Dark was surprised to see Annus’ expression turn soft.

‘It’s endearing.’

‘What is?’

Dark asked. Unus and Annus shared another look, and Unus replied.

‘To know you’re as ticklish as the rest of us.’

Dark huffed and rolled his eyes, but nevertheless felt the warmth of the sentiment the existential pair exuded as they all sat there together. It didn’t take long for them to get comfortable in the soothing room with countless blankets, with the sweetest (and most attention-seeking) puppo in existence. They were a dark group indeed, right to each of their cores… but even so, there was no-one there who was above a smile.

WOOOO HOPE YOU LIKED THIS FIC (SORRY IT TOOK A WHILE!) LEMME KNOW IF YA DID WOOO LUV YOUS!!

[cleighwrites]

Wincest S/D

🎁 🔥 (fireplace) ☕️ w/alcohol

Thank you 😊

Thanks for playing!! This one got a little away from me... lol

SPN Fanfic

Characters - Dean x Sam

Summary - Dean decides to celebrate Christmas, which is perfect because Sam has a gift just for him

Word Count - 709

Warnings - memories, gross fluff, a hint of Wincest

“Dean?” Sam asked as he stepped into the den (which he refused to call the Dean Cave.). 

He stopped in his tracks as he took in the scene before him. There was an electric fireplace set up under the flat-screen TV, a fully-lit and decorated Christmas tree in the corner, complete with wrapped gifts beneath, and Dean, standing by the recliner in a sweater and khakis wearing a sheepish grin on his face. 

“Dean?” he asked with a little more suspicion in his tone. 

“Merry Christmas, Sammy!” he cheered. 

Sam cocked his head and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Are you dying again?” 

The smile fell from Dean’s face. “What?” he asked, looking around. 

“Nothing, it’s just that we don’t usually do… this,” Sam said, motioning to the room at large.

“Well, it’s about time we started to. Now that we’re pretty much settled in here and we have the space… why not?” 

Sam shrugged, he couldn’t argue with that logic. 

“Oh, here!” Dean said, then reached for a thermos and poured Sam a mug full of steamy cider.  

It smelled like apples, spices, and rum, instantly warming him as he accepted the cup. Sam took a sip and the taste of liquor hit him in the back of the throat. It was strong. Dean grinned wider and waggled his eyebrows.

“Good, right?” he asked. 

Sam coughed, “Uh, yeah. Great.” 

Dean smiled brightly. Sam loved to see him so excited and happy about something so simple. He so rarely ever got to enjoy things, which reminded Sam that he had a gift for Dean in his pocket. Would now be the right time to give it to him? he wondered. 

“Here, sit,” Dean said, leading Sam to the sofa. 

Sam did as ordered and smiled as Dean situated himself so that his head was in Sam’s lap. He grabbed the throw blanket and draped it over himself then hit play on the TV. Charlie Brown Christmas started playing. Sam thought back to the days when they would be reversed; Sam’s head in Dean’s lap watching this very program on a granny motel TV. He cleared the emotion out of his throat and shifted as the gang sang and danced around Charlie Brown’s rehabilitated tree. 

Dean rolled onto his back and looked up at him. “Wanna watch The Grinch next?” 

Sam smiled down at him. “Sure.”

While the Grinch stole Christmas from the Whos down in Whoville, Dean put his hand under his face on Sam’s thigh and started rubbing little patterns with his fingers. Sam’s body reacted accordingly. He knew where this night was going, and the grog gave him a warm feeling deep in his bones. While the Grinch was returning the Whos’ Christmas, Sam had to shift again to accommodate his growing arousal. 

Sam ran his fingers through the longer hair on top of Dean’s head. “I think it’s about time for bed…”

Dean nuzzled Sam’s crotch. “I think you’re right.” 

Without ceremony, Dean threw the blanket off himself and went to stand. As he sat up, Sam put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. 

“I have something for you.” 

“Oh? You wanna wrap it and put it under the tree?” Dean asked looking hopeful of Sam’s participation in his sudden Christmas celebration. 

Sam shook his head. “No, I wanna give it to you now.”

Dean eyed him warily. “Okay…”

Sam pulled the small bag out of his back pocket and held his hand out. Dean matched him with his hand held out, palm up, expectantly. 

“Should I close my eyes?”

Sam rolled his. “No.” He took in a deep breath, then dropped the bag into Dean’s hand. 

Dean looked down, confused at first, then his eyes lit up and he looked back up into Sam’s eyes. 

“Really?” he asked. 

“Really… I thought, ya know, since we got rid of the other one…” Sam shrugged. 

Dean held up the slender leather rope and admired the small coin pendant that hung from its middle. “This isn’t…?”

“It’s an unaffiliated pendant, not connected to any deity or anything that’s got juju. You’re safe.” Sam smiled. 

“I love it, Sammy. Thank you.” 

Dean spent the rest of the night showing Sam exactly how grateful he was for his gift.

[its-an-obsession]

Promises between Roommates

Stranger Things Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Summary: You promised your best friends, Robin Buckley and Walter Miller, that you wouldn't fall for one of your roommates, but that promise has since been broken. You and Steve Harrington had been together for a few months and have surprisingly kept it a secret. However, as things progress, the two debate on confessing the truth to their roommates.

Notes:

Y/N/N - Your Nick Name

Walter is your other roommate!

Briefly based on New Girl, because why not?

Warnings:

Language

Sexual Innuendos

Slight smut (maybe??)

Steve Harrington x-reader

"Yellow or blue?" Robin held up each sweater. "Green," Y/N answered, not taking her attention away from her textbook. Robin's shoulders dropped. "You're not even looking," she said. Her arms lowered, still holding both sweaters. Y/N sighed and set her book to the side.

Robin thanked her friend and put the two sweaters beside her. She put each one in front of her. "Blue. It matches your eyes," Y/N said. "See, that's all I needed," Robin replied. She walked into her room to get changed, keeping the door open to still talk to her friend. "What're you even changing for?" Y/N shouted.

Robin stepped out of her room and untucked her hair from the collar. "I've got that band event this weekend," she answered, "And I'm trying to see which outfit I like best." Robin walked into the kitchen to grab something to eat.

She took out a bag of chips and joined her friend on the couch. Robin reached for the TV remote. "So, I was thinking," she shoved a handful of chips into her mouth, "We could stop by Hawkins High to watch them play this weekend." She wiped her hands on a napkin, gesturing the bag to Y/N.

The two of them shared the bag of chips. "Sounds like fun," Y/N said. "Cool. I'll ask the guys if they want to come," Robin put the bag on the coffee table. She turned on the TV to see if her favorite show was on, which was a stupid reality show.

"How can you watch this?" Y/N gestured to the screen. "This show is great. It's got romance, violence, and the occasional comedic bit," Robin explained, waving her hands around. Y/N ducked so Robin couldn't hit her in the face. "You forgot the hot babes part," Y/N winked.

This time, Robin hit Y/N in the face. "Hey! Let let me watch this girl fight," Walter said, opening the door to their apartment. Y/N pushed Robin's arm away from her face, ignoring the look on Robin's face. "Jar," Steve said, pointing to the glass jar on the shelf.

Walter looked at Steve, then to Robin and Y/N. "Two dollars this time," Y/N said. Walter rolled his eyes and dug his wallet out of his jean jacket. "Here. Two Washingtons," Walter said. "Add another 'Washington', big boy," Steve walked past Walter, patting him on the shoulder. Walter groaned.

Steve chuckled to himself and joined the girls on the couch. Instinctively, Steve put his arm over the back of the couch, using it as an excuse to sit closer to Y/N. Walter rolled his eyes and sat down on the recliner beside the leather sofa. "Oh, hot g-" Walter began. "No! Don't ruin this show for me," Robin said, preventing him from speaking.

Y/N snickered at Walter's expression. He yanked the blanket from the ground, grunting when the fleece got stuck at the edge of the recliner's leg rest. "Oh! I know that chick!" Walter pointed. "When're you going to stop calling girls 'chicks'?" Steve asked.

He quirked a brow when Walter struggled to think of an answer. Walter closed his mouth when he didn't speak. Y/N yawned, not hesitating to put her head on Steve's shoulder. He smiled to himself at her resting close to him.

Steve looked around the living room before discreetly kissing the top of Y/N's head. Y/N smiled when she felt Steve linger for a few seconds before leaning back with his arms still over the couch. The two of them had been secretly dating for about four months.

They were proud of themselves for keeping their relationship at a down low. However, sometimes it felt like they were living in hell because they couldn't display their affection out in the open. It was especially hell when their roommates would try to set them up on dates.

And sometimes, they'd go on those dates and would purposefully ruin them with comments or random stories. Y/N was hoping that Robin wouldn't notice anything since she was the one that created the rule: No dating roommates.

Whoever broke that rule wasn't something that Y/N and Steve thought of. Although, if someone was curious, it was both of them that broke the promise. As cliche as it sounds. There was a party, and some alcohol was involved, leading to a shared kiss and a night between Y/N and Steve.

Then that caused a few more excuses for hanging out individually, heading to one another rooms after everyone fell asleep, and any reason to touch each other. The more they did it, the more they became professionals.

"Okay, so Shelly fell in love with Ryan, but Ryan has a thing for Polly, Shelly's sister," Walter said.

He pointed at the TV, gesturing to each person. Robin nodded in response as she finished up the bag of chips from earlier. "Huh," Walter said, crossing his arms in thought. "I don't blame Shelly for falling for Ryan. Ryan is a hunk," Walter said.

They all turned to Walter as he looked at the reality show. Robin's mouth fell open. "What?" Walter said, "Shit. Is that another dollar?" She shook her head to prevent herself from laughing. "Nope. That's a dollar out of the douche jar," she said.

Robin reached over and took out a dollar from the jar. She throws it to Walter. He caught it with ease, stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans. "Do you have something you'd like to tells us, Walt?" Y/N said, her head still on Steve's shoulder. "What? No," Walter shook his head.

___________

(Later That Night)

Y/N sat beside Steve, her head lying on his chest as he ran a hand along her arm. They stared up at the ceiling with the slight hum from Steve's radio. It was about twelve-thirty in the morning, and Y/N had just snuck into Steve's room after Walter and Robin fell asleep.

This had become a normal occurance between the two of them. They had ran their plan at telling their friends over and over again, but there always seemed to be a flaw in their plans. It mainly started with Steve explaining to Walter that he found a girl and then confessing that it was Y/N.

Then, Y/N would do the same thing, telling Robin that she found someone, stating that it was Steve. It didn't seem like the worst idea, but they'd always think of something wrong. "What if we did, like, an extravagant proposal thing?" Steve suggested. Y/N furrowed her brows.

She sat up with her arms propping herself up. Steve smirked as she practically leaned over him. "How would that work? I mean, if you want something extravagant, we could just go up to them and say: Hey, we're dating. And we're going to stay dating, no matter what," I said.

He reached up and kissed Y/N deeply, putting his arms around her to bring her to his lap. "I don't hate the sound of that," Steve said. Y/N chuckled, her legs wrapped around his waist. Steve's smile grew at the sound of Y/N's laugh. He gazed at his girlfriend in admiration.

"I don't know how much I've expressed this, but it's literal hell when I can't kiss you or touch you in any way in public," Steve said. "You've mentioned it a few times," Y/N smirked. Steve leaned forward, kissing her intently.

She smiled into the kiss and couldn't help but gasp in surprise when Steve hovered over her. "I care about you so much," Steve said, breaking in between words to kiss her. She felt goosebumps rise when Steve's hands wandered. Y/N set a hand on Steve's when he went to undo the buttons of her cardigan.

He stopped kissing her, looking Y/N in the eyes. "They're in the rooms next door if you forgot," Y/N said. "I'll be quiet," he claimed, undoing the bottom button of the knitted cardigan. "Steve Harrington, you're never quiet," Y/N spoke, her voice in a partial whisper.

Steve didn't even try to keep himself from smiling, just enjoying the moment he was having. "I'll be quiet this time," Steve insisted. Y/N rolled her eyes, swiftly taking her cardigan off despite the buttons still secured together. "First one to make a noise loses," Steve said. "Okay, that's not fair," Y/N replied, shivering when Steve attacked her neck with kisses.

__________

(The Next Day)

Robin had been asking Y/N who the new guy was all morning. Y/N had told her that she had been on a date a few times, which was obviously Steve. Robin sat on Y/N's bed, flipping through a magazine that she had stolen from Y/N. "So, when can we meet him?" Robin asked.

Y/N shook her head and looked back at Robin, turning around in her desk chair. "I'm not telling you," Y/N said. She stood up from the chair to grab a sweatshirt. Steve had left a few marks on Y/N's neck. She was trying to cover it up a little bit because she knew Walter would make some comment.

"Why not? From what you've said, he sounds attractive. For you, not for me," Robin said. Y/N tilted her head at Robin's statement. Oh, if Robin only knew that she just blindly called Steve attractive, she'd barf. "We're just not at the level yet," Y/N answered.

Which wasn't a total lie. Steve and Y/N had planned on telling their roommates that day but were still hesitant about the whole thing. "Okay, but when you do. Walter, Steve, and I better be the first people you introduce," Robin said, "I seem to have an accurate red flag radar."

Robin went back to reading the magazine, flipping the corner on some pages to save her spot. "Actually, do Walter and Steve even know that you've started to date someone?" Robin looked up from the page. Y/N shook her head and sat back down at her desk. "Steve does. And, I tend to keep Walter out of the blue," she said, "You know how he gets when I talk about my love life."

Robin chuckled to herself, nodding alone. Walter was infamous for making any sex joke he could. This is why Robin, Steve, and Y/N had established the 'douche jar'. If he said anything remotely close to sex or something shitty, he had to put in any amount of money his friends told him to.

It has become a running joke between them. Sometimes, it felt like Walter was just doing it so he could say a joke that had been marinating in his head. "Speaking of Walter, I feel like we need to get a second douche jar. The first one is starting to overfill," Robin commented. Y/N nodded as she chuckled.

Steve walked over to Y/N's bedroom and lightly knocked on the doorframe. Y/N broke her focus from her book to look at him. She smiled at the sight of his grin. "Robs, can I talk to Y/N for a minute?" he asked. "Sure thing," Robin replied. She stood up from the bed, patting Steve's shoulder as she left the room.

Steve closed the door and sat down on Y/N's bed. "What's up, Steve?" Y/N asked. Steve leaned forward and dragged her to him as she sat on the office chair. "Hi," he said, his face close to hers. "Hi," Y/N repeated. Steve kissed her lips before leaning back, his hands still sitting on her knees.

"Did you just come in here to kiss me, or did you need something?" Y/N asked. Steve sighed and lightly pushed Y/N back to the desk. Y/N rolled her eyes as the back of the chair hit the edge of the desk. She joined Steve on the bed. "So, I-" he stopped himself when he saw the poorly covered hickies.

He ran a hand over the side of Y/N's neck. Y/N grabbed his wrist, lowering his arm so she could hold his hand. "If you're here to make a horrible pickup line, I'm gonna have to ask you to add to the jar," Y/N said, not bothering to cover up her smirk.

_______

(Later That Day)

It was Walter's turn to make dinner, but Robin insisted that she help him, given his inability to keep the kitchen together. Y/N sat comfortably in the living room, watching TV and listening to her friends argue.

"Are you two done?" Y/N looked over the back of the couch, "Because I feel like all I'm hearing is Robin spewing things about Walter's poor measurement skills. And Walter stating how controllable Robin is."

Walter threw a dish towel at Y/N, hitting her on the back of the head. "Ow, that hurt so much," Y/N joked, eating a laugh from Robin. Steve walked into the apartment after finishing up a long shift from work. He winked at Y/N as he spotted her sitting on the couch.

He hated not being able to kiss her on the forehead after coming home. It was something he looked forward to when Robin or Walter weren't home. Y/N got up from the couch to greet Steve at the door. She quickly kissed him on the cheek, thanking the wall for partially blocking them.

Steve leaned in for another kiss but was rudely interrupted when Walter peeked his head over the wall. "Stevo, dude! How was work?" he cheered, his arms going out. Steve squeezed Y/N's shoulder before walking into the kitchen. Y/N followed pursuit, wiping away the shade of pink that appeared on her cheeks.

"Good," Steve answered. He set his wallet and keys on the counter. Robin took Walter by the shoulder and pushed him towards the sink, pointing at the dirty dishes. "I thought Walter was making dinner," Steve said. "He's supposed to, but not surprisingly, Robin stepped in to help," Y/N responded, joining his side.

A few more minutes passed, and dinner was finally ready. The four of them ate in the living room despite there being a full dining table. As usual, Steve sat in the middle of Y/N and Robin while Walter was in his favorite chair in the house.

Y/N finished up her meal and grabbed everyone's plates to put them into the dishwasher. Steve got up to help her. "Hey," Steve set a hand on her waist.

"You ready?" he asked. He looked over his shoulder to find Walter talking about some girl he met at the store today. Y/N nodded and dropped the sponge. After cleaning the kitchen, Steve and Y/N walked back over to the leather sofa. Robin had turned on the reality show she loved.

Walter had grown to like it and even asked her to turn it on. Steve nudged Y/N's shoulder, letting her know that he would initiate the conversation. "So, Y/N, how's that guy you're seeing?" Steve asked, taking a sip of his drink to hide his smile. Walter's head swiveled to Y/N at the sound of Steve's statement.

"He's good. We're doing great," she answered, "I'm actually seeing him tonight." Steve nodded, ignoring Walter's expression. Robin sat to the left of Y/N with a smile on her face. "What's his name?" Walter asked, leaning forwards. He rested his chin on his hands.

He grinned at her, trying to pry more information out of Y/N. "Steve," Y/N answered. Walter's face contorted in confusion, but Robin immediately connected the dots. She sat upright to face Steve and Y/N, who sat beside her. Walter glanced between the three, slowly understanding why Robin had acted like that.

"Holy shit. You two are dating?" Walter said. He pointed to Y/N and Steve. He began laughing uncontrollably, mainly laughing at the sight of Robin. "You're telling me that I called Steve attractive earlier?" she said. Her face suddenly changed to a look of disgust. She covered her mouth. "I'm gonna puke," she said.

"Okay! I'm not that bad-looking," Steve replied, putting his hands up in the air. Robin stood up from the couch with her hands on her hips. "You two promised. You promised that you wouldn't date!" Robin exclaimed. "Well, in their defense, I did date Cece for a bit until she moved out last month," Walter said.

Robin whipped her head to Walter, even more, bewildered than a second ago. "Were you the reason why she moved out?" she said. "Maybe, maybe not," Walter shrugged. He leaned back with his hands resting behind his head. "More on that later," Robin said. She pointed a finger at him before turning back to Y/N and Steve.

The longer she looked at them, the more she realized how much Y/N cared for Steve. Robin remembered how happy Y/N looked when she talked about Steve. And she remembered how happy Steve looked when he spoke to Y/N or helped her out. Robin suddenly felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.

"Uh oh. What's that expression on your face? I don't like it," Y/N said, grimacing at the look on her friend's face. Robin let out a heavy sigh and pinched the area between her brows. She sat back down, putting a hand on Y/N's knee. "I'm okay with it," she said.

Both Y/N and Steve were surprised by the sudden response. They didn't think they'd ever get that type of reaction. Especially since the three of them have known one another since high school. But! If we're being honest, Y/N and Steve have always had feelings for one another.

It just took living with each other to realize how much they cared for one another. "You two seem grossly cute. And no matter how much it freaks me out, I can see how happy you make each other," Robin expressed. "Good. Because I was gonna date her regardless of what you said," Steve said. He put an arm around Y/N's shoulders, bringing her to his chest.

Taglist: @ramaalkayyali @b-ritney @midnightstar-90 @nix-rose

[jerzwriter]

With Pride

As my dear friend Z said, we no longer have a limit with Ainna (@/artbyainna - IG), we just know that every single thing she does will be a masterpiece that will blow our minds, and this is no exception. I wanted a commission of Tobias & Casey attending their first Pride parade together, and I couldn't possibly be happier with it! I'm happy to share it with you - and wrote a little something to accompany it. It takes place after Casey's eventful first visit with the Carrick Family in A Family Affair. I hope you enjoy it!

Book: Open Heart (Book 3 Timeline)

Pairing: Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey)

Rating: Teen

Words: 1,267

Summary: Casey & Tobias touch base after an eventful dinner with his extended family, and Tobias has a surprise for Casey in advance of them attending their first Pride parade as a couple. (Author's notes at the end of the fic.) Participating in @choicesjunechallenge, Pride | @choicesficwriterscreations Pride Bingo, Pride Parade | @choicespride Pride Event, Relationships familial and sexual | @choicesflashfics, prompt #1 in bold.

About her shirt...

It was a perfect Saturday afternoon. The sun poured in through the skylight in Tobias’s living room, where he was comfortably reclined on his new leather sofa. Tossing a baseball in the air and repeatedly catching it with his right hand as his left held his cell affixed to his ear.

“Nah, Mom… that’s fine. I don’t think Jordan thought that at all.”

He smiled when he heard a noise coming from the foyer. He had recently given Casey a key to his townhome, and she still hadn’t gotten the knack for opening the door with that old key. He should get it fixed, but he found the string of curses that spilled out of her each time she used it to be endearing. His face lit up when she came into view. The novelty of her showing up without notice wouldn’t lose its appeal anytime soon.

Sitting upright, he motioned for her to join him on the couch, but she did one better, jumping into his lap and throwing her arms around his neck. She must have peppered him with a hundred kisses as he attempted to wrap up his call.   

“Listen, Ma, I have to go, but I'll call you after my date tonight…. What?.... No, you're right. I will have better things to do than call you… Well, you're my Mother; you should know me…. All right, Mom, I really have to go. I’ll talk to you soon…. Love you, too.”  

He had barely hung up before his strong arms looped around Casey’s waist, flipping her over on the couch where he landed atop her.   

“What are you doing?” she giggled.

“You want to tease me when I’m talking to my Mother? This is called retaliation.”

Before she could reply, his lips captured hers, and their bodies passionately tangled as they shared a lingering kiss.

“If this is my punishment, I’m afraid you’re doing nothing to stop me from being bad again in the future,”  she cooed.

Toabis’s eyes twinkled. “But I love when you’re bad,” he growled. “I think it’s one of the best things about you.”  

His hands slid up her back, only stopping when he had two fistfuls of her long, golden locks clenched in his hands. He kissed her again and again until….

“All right, all right, all right!” she laughed, pulling herself slightly away. “Before we go any further… how did Jordan’s talk with your Mom go. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him.”

“Well, I just spoke to Ma, and I spoke with Jordan earlier… it seems to have gone well. She was a bit surprised; there’s no denying that, and it bothered him a little at first.  He thought her surprise meant more than it did.”  

“I told him that sometimes it just takes time to settle in. Unfortunately, the default is straight, so parents spend their whole lives assuming that’s the case. Even parents who are very accepting need a little time for things to set in.”

“He told me you said that, and it really helped him. He didn’t jump to conclusions, and they were able to move on without misunderstanding. On Mom’s part, she is feeling a little guilty for not seeing it for herself.”

“Oh, no! She can’t take that on. Do you have any idea the lengths some people go to to keep their true selves hidden? Especially when you’re bi – because if you’re in a hetero-presenting relationship – no one is any the wiser – and there are many reasons some feel safer staying in the closet. I hope she understands that.”

“She does, sort of… I mean, she will. Overall, they’re both in good places right now, and they agreed to talk more when he’s in town next week. But Jordan said he feels like a weight was lifted off his back.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” she replied with a nervous giggle.

“Why are you giggling?”

“I’m sure your Mom heard about my first Carrick family event.”

“Yeah,” Tobias laughed, “You bet she did.”

“So, she’s not blaming me, now. Is she?”

“Blaming you for going off on a bunch of bigoted assholes? No, she’s not blaming you for that at all.”

“I mean Jordan… she’s not like thinking I made your brother bi, is she?”  

“No,” he said with a comforting smile. “She’s not holding you accountable for my brother’s sexual identity, Casey.”

“That’s good, but I’m sure some of the Carricks are.”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” he laughed. “But I’m not worried about them.”

“Good, because you’re the only Carrick I’m worried about… well, you, your Mom, and Jordan. And you’re Mom isn’t upset that I’m…you know…”

“No,” he said, pulling her against his chest. “My Mother has no issue with you. To her, you’re just the most fantastic woman on the planet because you finally got her 37-year-old son to settle down.”

“Well, that was a modern miracle really….”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “And it’s all because of you.”

“Good,” Casey smiled with relief. “So, where are you taking this amazing woman on our date tonight?”

“DelFriscos at the Seaport.”

“Tobias!” She complained. “I’m not remotely dressed for DelFriscos.”

“Well,” he smirked, hands tugging at her clothes. “Let’s get these clothes all disheveled, then I’ll have to drive by your place to change. It’s a win-win.”  

“Your incorrigible,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Perhaps,” he grinned. “But you like the idea! Oh, before I forget!”

He retrieved a small package from a nearby table, presenting it to Casey when he returned. 

“I bought this for you. I thought you might want to wear it when we go to pride next week.”

Casey ripped into the layers of tissue paper, smiling when she reached a white, imprinted tee.

“Bi wife energy?” she smiled.

“You like it?”

“I love it, but… I’m not your wife.”

“Pfft,” he waved. “Technicalities.  Plus… you definitely give off wife energy, and you know, this way you can still wear it once I convince you to marry me.”

“Thank you,” she blushed. “And thanks for agreeing to go to the parade with me. You know, not all of my past partners were comfortable with me being bi. I’m talking about both guys and girls, straight and not. Bisexual is like this weird thing no one is entirely comfortable with. So your support and understanding… you just don’t know how much it means to me.”

“Well, why wouldn’t I be? Besides, now my girlfriend and my brother are bi. Hell, who knows, maybe I’m bi, too?”

Casey rolled her eyes again. “T., it doesn’t work that way. It’s not contagious.”

“I didn’t mean anything by that…”

“I know. But you don’t just get to be bi because that’s what all the cool kids are doing now.”

“The cool kids?” He questioned.

“Yes, the cool kids.”

“Uh, no offense, princess… but my little brother will never be one of the cool kids to me. And as to you,” his eyes raked salaciously over her body. “I think hot is a better descriptor than cool.”

“Hey!” she hollered, smacking him in the arm. “You’re so lucky that I love you!”

He reached over and pulled her close, gruffly whispering in her ear.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Tobias.”

“I love you, too.”

They found themselves locked in another kiss, and he broke away to ask.

“Would you mind if we didn’t go to DelFrisco’s after all?”

“Why,” she laughed. “Do you have a better idea?”

“Yeah, it’s called we order in, and clothing is entirely optional.”

“You know what? That has my full support.”

Tags on reblog.

A/N: I know the topic of Tobias's sexuality is a hot-button issue in the fandom. In my HC, Casey is openly bisexual, and Tobias is heterosexual... as he can be per canon, if you play with a female MC. I fully respect everyone's right to represent Tobias- and every other character - as they see fit in their HC, regardless of the character's sexual identity in canon - and I hope that I will be afforded the same respect that I give to others.

[evgorluxury]

Top 10 Furniture Trends to Elevate Your Home in 2025

1. Sustainable and Eco-Friendly Furniture

Sustainability continues to be a dominant trend in 2025. Homeowners are opting for furniture crafted from reclaimed wood, bamboo, and recycled materials. Brands are focusing on eco-conscious production methods, ensuring minimal environmental impact while maintaining elegance and durability.

2. Multi-Functional Furniture

With urban spaces becoming more compact, multi-functional furniture is a must-have. Think sofa beds with hidden storage, extendable dining tables, and modular seating arrangements. These pieces maximize space efficiency without compromising on aesthetics.

3. Organic and Curved Shapes

Soft, rounded edges and organic silhouettes are replacing sharp, angular designs. Curved sofas, circular coffee tables, and fluid-shaped chairs bring a sense of comfort and warmth to any room, making interiors feel more inviting.

4. Statement Lighting with Built-in Furniture

Lighting is no longer just an accessory; it’s now an integral part of furniture design. Built-in LED lighting in headboards, bookshelves, and cabinets adds a futuristic and sophisticated touch, creating a perfect ambiance for any space.

5. Smart Furniture Integration

Technology is seamlessly merging with furniture to enhance convenience. Smart beds with sleep-tracking features, wireless charging side tables, and voice-controlled recliners are becoming mainstream, catering to modern homeowners seeking high-tech solutions.

6. Maximalist Aesthetic with Bold Colors

Minimalism is making room for maximalism, where bold colors, intricate patterns, and statement pieces dominate. Jewel tones like emerald green, deep blue, and mustard yellow are making a strong comeback, adding a vibrant and luxurious feel to interiors.

7. Luxurious Textures and Materials

Opulence is key in 2025, with velvet, bouclé, and leather taking center stage. Marble, gold accents, and intricate woodwork create a rich and refined ambiance, making furniture not just functional but also a visual delight.

8. Vintage and Retro Revival

Nostalgia plays a significant role in this year’s trends, with mid-century modern and art deco styles making a return. Vintage-inspired furniture with contemporary twists offers a timeless appeal, blending past elegance with modern convenience.

9. Personalized and Customizable Pieces

Mass-produced furniture is being replaced with bespoke designs. Homeowners are opting for custom pieces tailored to their space and style preferences. From modular sofas to personalized shelving units, individuality is at the forefront.

10. Outdoor Living Expansion

With outdoor spaces becoming extensions of indoor living, stylish patio furniture is gaining traction. Weather-resistant sofas, elegant dining sets, and fire pits are transforming gardens and balconies into luxurious retreats.

2025’s furniture trends highlight the perfect blend of functionality, sustainability, and personalization. Whether you’re drawn to eco-friendly materials, high-tech smart furniture, or bold maximalist designs, these trends offer endless possibilities to elevate your home.