#outdoor oak benches

[jaderoberts]

Pick premium oak outdoor dining furniture to turn your patio into a next-level alfresco dining experience.✨

[crimsonmuzzle]

Exterior Stucco Example of a large trendy white two-story stucco flat roof design

[brynhallavellan]

Library Living Room Melbourne Example of a large minimalist open concept concrete floor living room library design with a wall-mounted tv and gray walls

[classicmemorialbenches]

What is best wood for garden bench?

Oak is a strong, durable, and hard-wearing timber that is ideally suited to the manufacture of a timeless piece of outdoor wood bench. Oak has some characteristics that are important to understand.

SILVERING OAK : When allowed to weather naturally, oak takes on a beautiful silver-grey patina which for many is a sought-after look.

HAIRLINE CRACKS IN OAK : All hardwoods will expand and contract in ever changing weather conditions. This can occasionally cause some very fine hairline cracks on the surface of the wood.

Oak, having a more lively grain pattern is particularly prone to this. As the oak stabilises and weathers over time they tend to disappear and in no way affect the integrity of the bench.

[moonstrider9904]

All good things start with coffee

Chapter 1 of Le Coeur

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Next chapter

Chapter summary: On an otherwise typical day, the owners of the Coffeewick can't help but notice an enforcer standing guard outside their coffee shop.

Tags/warnings: Steb x Original Female Character, other OCs are in the fic as well. Canon divergence, flirting, pining, crushes, teasing. Just a cute intro chapter.

Word count: 4.4k

On the corner of Alpine Road and Reverie Lane, on the northwestern quadrant of the intersection, there was a lovely building called The Coffeewick. It had been named by its owner long before she had even laid eyes on it, long before she—and her trusted business partner—turned it into the staple it became. Before them, the building that would go on to become the Coffeewick was already a catch. With its front facing south, it overlooked Bonan Plaza, one of Piltover city’s most renowned parks filled with trees bursting with life, benches to sit and enjoy life, fountains, even monuments to some of the City of Progress’ brightest minds. Shops, boutiques, even some apartment complexes were in the area, and before it became filled with life, the Coffeewick didn’t really fit into any of these categories. It was a little building that stood there, right on the corner, that could amount to anything.

When looking at the Coffeewick between its neighboring buildings, it certainly looked small. It had merely two stories—two apartments in the top story, each with one bedroom, a small kitchen and restroom and just enough room to make it the coziest home one could conceive. The roof of the Coffeewick wasn’t regularly used for anything other than the greenhouse, a valuable asset to those who lived in the little building, and in the remaining space of the rooftop where chairs and a table, and a series of warm fairy lights above the makeshift outdoor living room for the nights in which the Coffeewick’s two residents would decide to spend some time up there. The rooftop rarely saw the presence of outsiders.

But the ground level of the Coffeewick was the crown jewel, the dream that had been given hours of work and planning and love until it became a reality. It was a cute little coffee shop run by a human woman and a Yordle, both avidly passionate about their place in the world. The walls were a light cream color, creating a fitting canvas for the decor placed around it, mainly revolving around delicate green foliage and the same warm fairy lights wherever they could be placed, from the dark oak furniture to the edges where the walls met the ceiling, even flower pots dangling from the roof. Shelves were placed along the back wall where both owners kept a collection of their favorite cups, and at times, they added seasonal plants and decorations there as well.

These shelves, of course, ended where the counter began, the same place that originated the magic—and science—of the brewery. The counter was of the same dark oak as the shelves, tables, and chairs, contrasting with the floor that was a wood of a slightly lighter tone, balancing out the roof and delightfully bringing out the green plants and the lights, as though to emphasize the life that the Coffeewick had, that was breathed into it. The outer face of the counter was simple, with an intuitive sequence where a visitor would arrive, order, pay, and receive their heart’s desire.

But at the back, the main attraction was the coffee machine, designed and perfected by the owner herself throughout years of study, capable of brewing coffee in different volumes, temperatures, and consistencies, roasting and grinding beans, and it also contained an attaché for frothing milk. The machine itself took up almost half of the space along the back wall of the counter, after which there was an assortment of utensils, a small oven, a rack of syrups, sugars, and spices, followed by pastry racks, and finally a refrigerator. The logo of the Coffeewick was painted on the empty wall space above all the equipment, and above it was a hand-written menu on a chalkboard containing all the different beverages that were available for purchase as well as any pastries that would be available for the day. The menu had doodles of flowers and stars in any empty spaces, just for the sake of a little more magic.

The owner and head barista of the Coffeewick smiled gently as she poured steamed milk into a mug to create a piece of art with the drink she’d just brewed. A graduate of the prestigious Piltover Academy, Nea had dedicated years of study into the arts and sciences of coffee. What had started as a simple beverage to cope with long periods of school work evolved into the little thing that made life most enjoyable, and Nea harnessed her knowledge and dedication into designs, money saved, even the construction of the coffee maker that made all the beverages in the Coffeewick. While it was her dream and her vision, Nea hadn’t solidified the Coffeewick entirely on her own.

Nea’s partner, Blu, was a Yordle shorter than most and with the feisty spirit that was signature for her species. The little Yordle was well over a hundred years old, and she had seen many things in her time in the Yordle homeland known as Bandle City, from magical dreamscapes to portal catastrophes. A century of being a knitter and a tidal wave of adventures that followed made Blu long for seeing more around Runeterra, and when she parted for Piltover, she had nearly nothing to her name, and no hopes of amounting to anything in the near future. That had changed when she met Nea.

On that fairly typical day, while Nea focused on brewing the drinks that the customers were ordering, Blu exited the back room of the Coffeewick holding a tray of fresh pastries. She placed it on the pastry rack at the back of the counter and glanced over at Nea on the other side.

“This batch of Poro Cookies is the last one of the day,” Blu called.

With her concentration unbroken, Nea nodded in understanding at Blu’s statement. Making the appropriate twisting motions with her wrist as she poured the milk, Nea finished the foamy drawing of a swan on the surface of the drink she’d created—a traditional flat white made with a slightly darker roast than usual, one of her favorites. She called the customer’s name and set it on the round wooden surface at the edge of the counter where customers picked up their orders. Letting out a little exhale of satisfaction, she tucked a strand of her short black wavy hair behind her ear and moved onto the next order.

On her side of the counter, Blu tapped the knee of the young man who was working the cash register. Like all the additional employees of the Coffeewick, he was a student at the Academy in his last semester who worked there to earn some money and experience pre-graduation, a need for many like him whom the Coffeewick also wanted to help. Once he graduated and got a better job, he’d move on and let another student take his place, and so on. He, like the other part-timers, enjoyed working at the Coffeewick—it wasn’t just the peaceful ambience and delightful smell of coffee that made it shine, but the feeling of having a safety net that it emulated in him and his fellow Academy students was rivaled by only a few other initiatives in Piltover.

“You’re free to go,” Blu told him. “I’ll take over until Lily shows up.”

He looked down at Blu and smiled as he bent over and pulled a stool for her to climb on. “Thanks, I just need to talk to Nea and then I’m off.”

“Yup, take care,” Blu said as she got on top of the stool and was finally able to reach the cash register to keep the line going. “May I take your order?”

The next person in line was a lady who looked like she was in her sixties. She was well-dressed in black and white clothes that looked expensive, and she crowned her head with a black hat that had a large, poofy burgundy feather adorning it. The lady was expecting a human to take her order—you know, the same one she’d just seen behind the cash register—but instead, she was met with a little Yordle. Yordles weren’t all that common in Piltover, even if recent years had brought more of them to the city, so it was still a surprise for a Piltovan citizen to come across one. And this one in particular, with her blue fur and round brown eyes, her short brown hair in a bob cut, her round ears that poked from beneath the hair and her round little snout, knitted beige sweater and brown knit cowl, this little Yordle was just so round and fuzzy that it looked like a child’s teddy!

“Yes, I’ll have a… uh…” The lady trailed off, her eyes sparkling as her demure smile expanded into a grin from ear to ear. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute!”

“Ma’am, this is a coffee shop,” Blu replied in a kindness-infused deadpan, as though her words were previously rehearsed. “If you wish to express appreciation for the staff’s cuteness, I suggest doing it in the form of a generous tip.” Blu gestured at the little jar next to the cash register machine and directed a bright smile at the lady.

“Of course, of course,” the lady said, pressing a hand to her cheek as the other one looked through her purse and pulled out a hefty coin, proceeding to add it to the jar. “Here you go, dear. Now, could I please have the toffee caramel cappuccino to go?”

“Yes, ma’am, and thank you for the tip,” Blu smiled and proceeded to charge the lady for her beverage. “Toffee caramel cappuccino to go!”

“Coming up,” Nea called from the other side of the counter as she was finishing up the next milk drink in the queue.

One more coffee was done and delivered, and it was time to go for the next. This next drink was a large dark brewed in the Moka method—that one always took longer to brew, so Nea set up the Moka to brew with the cup underneath it while working on the next one in parallel, a simple, straightforward latte. And as Nea divided her focus between the two drinks, she was able to see from the corner of her eyes that her cashier was approaching her timidly.

“Um… Miss Nea?” He said.

“What can I do for you, Donnie?” Nea responded, glancing over at him through her glasses before focusing on steaming milk again. “Your shift’s over, right?”

“Yes,” Donnie replied, feeling a tad less tense. “Listen, um… I was wondering, and I’m sorry for not asking sooner, but… finals are coming up, and I’ll need to buy a whole bunch of supplies for my projects. I need my paycheck early, maybe not even the whole check, just whatever’s appropriate for the days since my last one… could you maybe…?”

Keeping the cup of milk at a steady angle for it to continue steaming, Nea looked at Donnie again, her big brown eyes soft on him. “Oh, I remember finals seasons. The sooner you can get your supplies, the better. Stores run out quickly.”

“Yes, that’s what I fear,” Donnie sighed. “And now that I pay for all my food and I got the bright idea of adopting a dog—”

Nea let out a smooth, delicate laugh, stopping Donnie’s nervous rambling in its tracks.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You don’t need to be afraid to ask me for things you need. The paychecks are in the backroom, just let me finish steaming this milk and I’ll go get it.”

Donnie directed a bright smile at Nea. “Thanks so much. You’re saving my life right now.”

“Not a problem,” Nea said, putting down the milk and quickly cleaning the steamer with a damp cloth and a second of blowing pure steam onto an empty cup. “Be right back.”

Having mastered the art of wandering around her coffee shop, Nea went to the back room for the paycheck and returned to see Donnie finishing up and delivering the drinks she left paused. She smiled at the sight—acts of kindness like that one would always live in her memory. She then walked up behind Donnie and handed him the envelope with his check, and the curve on her lips widened slightly.

“Thanks for covering those drinks,” Nea acknowledged. “Here’s your check, and if you need a raise, just let me know.”

“Thanks so much, Nea,” Donnie unconsciously gave a slight bow in her direction. “I don’t need the raise, I just really needed this to get all the stuff I need.”

“Alright, well, good luck with all your finals,” Nea smiled at him.

“Thanks!” Donnie cheerfully expressed his gratitude again, and he pranced his way out of the Coffeewick to leave Nea to continue her work.

Nea’s eyes lingered on Donnie as he made his way out, her mind temporarily wandering on a number of different things ranging from her own memories as an Academy student short on cash and the writing of a mental note to motivate Donnie—and the rest of the intern staff—more over the next few weeks. But just as Donnie’s figure was disappearing into the crowd of people outside, her gaze got caught in a blue uniform that shielded teal skin. It was a male enforcer whose profile faced Nea, and his posture was strictly straight, almost regal, with his fingers interlaced behind his back. The sight was fairly standard except for the obvious fact that this enforcer was a Vastaya, and the sound of Donnie walking out of the Coffeewick as well as his figure walking past the enforcer caused him to angle his body enough for him to fully face the Coffeewick’s entrance.

When he did, the enforcer's gaze traveled through the entrance of the Coffeewick and landed on Nea only for her to notice it was the most beautiful shade of aquamarine. With wide, brown eyes unable to hide their appeal at the most intricate details they were able to pick up on even in that second-long glance, from the gills above his jawline to the delicate fins that framed his eyes, and the way his angular features looked so incredibly soft, Nea stared back at him and felt her surroundings fade to white noise. Though as the door of the Coffeewick closed itself and cast a sheet of wood and glass between her and the enforcer, Nea noticed him turning around and regaining his post standing watch outside.

Even after Nea was no longer able to see that striking ocean gaze, she remained motionless as she replayed the image of it in her mind. Seconds passed her in her daze, forgetting the queue of orders and the smell of coffee that would, on any other day, be the thing to entrance her senses. Her stare stood focused on the blue uniform as if she could telepathically beckon him to turn around again, maybe inspire him to come inside and order a cup or two, but no such thing happened.

"Hey, head barista," Blu called from the cash register. "Get brewing!"

"Sorry!" Nea gave a hop, startled out of her daze, and she got back to brewing and filling orders as if nothing had distracted her in the first place.

Blu was just about to get off her stool with which she covered the cash register since Lily, another Coffeewick worker, had just arrived. As Blu was moving her stool over to the side, her gaze wandered over to Nea with an eyebrow raised, puzzled by her partner's sudden—and uncommon—lapsus.

"What was that about?" Blu asked Nea.

"Oh, nothing," Nea replied as she added whipped cream to the toffee caramel cappuccino she was finishing.

"Your cheeks are burning red," Blu deadpanned.

"Don't you have a tray of cookies to take out of the oven?" Nea glanced over at Blu.

"And now you're getting defensive, which means not even you understand whatever's got you in a pickle," Blu climbed onto a chair behind the counter. "You were looking outside, what happened?"

"Nothing," Nea said.

"A ghost from your past?" Blu teased. "An ex lover you left in the dead of the night?"

"No, and I've never done that," Nea answered as she delivered the beverage and headed toward the coffee machine to brew the next. In that time, Blu looked through the glass doors and windows over to the outside, and her Yordle eyes were able to catch irregular sights far quicker than others.

"Enforcers? Out here?" Blu wondered.

"Yeah," said Nea.

"Why?"

"I think I read in a newspaper somewhere that it's just a council initiative," Nea replied almost cautiously. "Just to keep people and businesses safe, etc, etc."

"So... if you're not a fugitive but you're nervous about an enforcer at our door-" Blu stopped herself and giggled. "Ooooh, I see. "

"No, you don't," Nea tried to dismiss.

"Poppycock," Blu laughed and stood on her paw toes, trying to get a look at the enforcer. "Woah, he's green!"

"Blu!" Nea scolded.

"Hey, come on, you just shouted the color of my fur," the Yordle teased and looked at the enforcer again with more attention. "What do you know? A Vastaya. Didn't know you were into that."

"Cut it out," Nea couldn't help but laugh, albeit nervously.

"Aww, you have a little crush," Blu smirked.

"Hey, I know that look in your eyes," Nea answered. "You may as well have little flames in them."

"Do you want me to go out there and tell him you like him?" Blu said with that same look of mischief in her teddy-like face.

"What I want is for you to get off my case," Nea frowned.

"No you don't, you love me," Blu crossed her arms and frowned back.

"Right now, I could think of a few other emotions I feel towards you," Nea smirked.

"You'd be lost without me," Blu challenged.

In response, Nea proceeded to do the mature, grown-up thing and stuck her tongue out at Blu. The Yordle instantly stuck her tongue out too in response and, after the two shared a laugh, Nea paused the drink she was brewing to help Blu off the chair.

"Fine, I'll go somewhere else and leave you to pine for your hot Vastaya enforcer man on your own," Blu laughed, looking back up at Nea over her shoulder. "Hey, here's an idea. You should totally make him a cup of coffee and take it to him, and be all girly and googly and all like 'thank you for your service' or something like that."

Nea straightened up, pausing in her tracks. "That's not a bad idea."

"What?" Blu's teasing became concern as she turned around and faced Nea fully. "Hey, I was kidding."

"No, you're right, that would be perfect!" Nea's face lit up with a smile. "Let me finish up these next couple of orders. Do you mind taking over the queue while I head out there?"

"You're serious," Blu stared blankly. "You're actually gonna do it."

"After these, it's just two lattes, one for here and one to go," Nea instructed. "It shouldn't take me any longer than that. What should I take him? Latte? Cappuccino? Flat white? Black coffee? Creamer on the side? Sugar?"

"Whatever Nea, just pick," Blu grunted as she pushed the chair over to the coffee machine, figuring she was gonna need the boost if she was to take over for Nea. Nea walked over to help with the chair and put Blu up on it again, earning her a frown from the Yordle. "I'd go with a Red Eye, maybe you'll scare him off for good."

"Oh, come on, don't be like that," Nea grinned. "It was your idea."

"If this is your way of teaching me to shut up next time, it's working," Blu deadpanned.

"You don't mean that," Nea smirked. "You love me."

"And now I'm eating my words from earlier," Blu said. "Yippee."

Despite Blu's protests, she obliged and brewed the next couple of drinks in the queue while Nea finished up her current orders. As for what beverage she would deliver to the enforcer, she leaned back on her experience and went for the most balanced recipe for a latte she knew, one with good coffee flavor and creamy milk that added just the right amount of sweetness—perfect for nearly anyone who favored either the sweet or the bitter side of the craft. Nea was careful in her movements, deliberate in each part of the process from the milk steaming to the pouring of the espresso, and even if she was placing it in a disposable cup with a lid, she still made a delicate flower latte art with the foam on top—a heart probably would have been too obvious, but no small part of Nea wanted to make it that way. The flower seemed like a good option for now.

With the beverage done, she reached for a packet of sugar, a wooden mixer, and a couple napkins, Nea walked out from behind the counter and made her way across the Coffeewick, heading for the door. She stepped outside, relished in the chilly fresh air, and walked forward with her gaze set on the enforcer.

She stopped. It only dawned on her then that she didn't know what she was going to say, but on top of that, she was about to make a total fool of herself for all she knew. She'd had so much fun brewing the coffee and thinking about the perfect outcome that now that she was out there, part of her wanted to run and hide. He hadn't turned around yet—if she was quick, she could abort the plan and get away with it, have that latte herself. It was sure to be a good cup of coffee, she'd made it, after all. Nea became lost in her thoughts of how she could use a good latte right about now to regain a grip on reality, and at that moment, the enforcer felt her presence behind him and calmly turned around.

His aquamarine gaze nearly ended Nea. Up close, she was able to see much more of the detail in his physique. The fins that framed his eyes were paired with markings of a slightly lighter shade of green, and the inner corners of his eyelids as well as the sides of the bridge of his nose adopted a shade that more closely resembled human flesh. The helmet that he wore concealed his eyebrows and any other details above, but even under it, Nea could observe the shape of his ears pointing upward. In the sunlight, the golden details of his enforcer uniform appeared to be glowing in contrast with the rich blue color of the fabric, and aside from being motionless, Nea was now also rendered speechless in the presence of such beauty. Even if she wanted to appear cool and collected, she knew right then that she would miserably fail at any attempts to do so.

As he looked at her, his gaze appeared to soften, and the detail that dealt the final blow for Nea and made her weak in the knees was the way the fins around his eyes flickered, like a wave from inside to out, as his eyes widened slightly in attention. When he blinked, Nea noticed he had a second eyelid acting as a membrane that closed on a horizontal plane underneath his main eyelids—ust another thing that added to Nea's inability to speak—and he remained quiet, expectant of whatever she was about to do, until his gaze finally traveled over to the cup of coffee she was holding.

He met her gaze again. "Can I help you, miss?"

God, Nea thought to herself. Even his voice was irresistible, it was almost unfair. It was deep and rich, and when he spoke, he had a thick, elegant accent that made her yearn to hear him endlessly. Thoughts and insecurities rushed through her mind, things like how could someone that gorgeous still be single, or how could someone as beautiful as him pay attention to her, but she was surprised at herself for being able to put those intrusive thoughts aside and instead lifted the cup of coffee, showing it to him. As for what she would say—and she had reached a point where she really should say something—Nea opted to use the very words Blu had suggested in her earlier mischief.

"Thank you for your service," Nea said softly and offered the coffee to him.

His gaze softened even more, and slowly, he reached for the cup, almost hesitating to take it from her. He met her eyes again, and the hint of a smile curved her lips.

"It's not necessary," he uttered, his voice much softer than it had been before.

"Oh, I know, I just..." Nea trailed off, unable to stop smiling at him. "I wanted to."

Finally, he gave her a fuller smile. "Thank you."

Nea's smile grew as well to the point where she nearly giggled. When he took the coffee, Nea used her free hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, averting her gaze from him before meeting his eyes again. Lost for words again, Nea gave a little nod and turned around, walking back towards the Coffeewick until she eventually disappeared into it.

Inside, Nea remained for a second at the doorstep smiling at herself, and then she went back behind the counter where she was needed. There, Blu was just finishing up a couple of orders, and as soon as she laid eyes on Nea, the spunky grin returned.

"Well?" Blu said. "Did you crash and burn and stumble with your words?"

"No, I..." Nea smiled. "I actually think that went really well."

"What's his name?" Blu asked.

"Not a clue," Nea replied, her smile still firm in place.

Blu, in turn, facepalmed. "You're hopeless. Alright, I'm done here. Take over your coffee bar."

"He is so pretty," Nea pouted with a hand over her chest. "He is seriously so pretty I kind of want to cry."

"And yet you don't know his name," Blu mentioned.

"Yeah..." Nea's smile faded a bit. "I messed that up."

"I'll let it slide," Blu smirked. "People make dumb mistakes when they're in loooove."

"Oh, be quiet, you," Nea chuckled.

Blu walked off in the direction making indiscreet kissing noises the whole way until she disappeared into the kitchen. In the meantime, Nea got back to work and noticed the way her hands were trembling, but she figured she would still be able to make coffee even with a shaky hand and rosy cheeks.

Thanks so much for reading! Please reblog to help me get out there!

Next chapter ->

[sirenmoth]

Monster Mash - Satyr

CW: Outdoor sex, Gentle sex, voyerism, thigh grinding, thigh riding, spanking, hand job, cum as lube

Monster Mash Masterlist

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The garden at the far end of the property was beautiful, different flowers grew wind and luscious of different sizes and colours combined with various trees where the birds liked to nest. It's a sanctuary for the Satyr, who usually spent his time here away from the chaos of the manor, sometime you would join him in this bliss. In a small wooden cabin that was barely big enough for two, hidden under a large oak tree and some forget-me-not flowers.

You always say it looks like a fairytale cottage. A place in a dream.

The collections of flowers, both wild and planted, laid in large and small mismatch patches around the garden, creating a natural feel, mixed with the trees of various types, both big and tall and small and wide, casts shadows in all the right places for a midday nap. A moon-gate archway sat at the entrance of the garden, giving it the final tough of a whimsical fairytale dream. Sitting to watch the birds and butterflies, the early morning insects or the nighttime fireflies is always your favourite pastime, a break from being tossed around like a toy between your monster lovers, not that you minded the life you live.

The manor sat in the middle of the large property, to the north of the large patch of land is a wide open pasture, the Centaur has his own barn and stable combo to go with the field he can run around in, and to the south was a massive lake-ocean for your Siren and Merman, the cool saltwater body complete with a sand beach and underwater caves and caverns. To the east is the Naga's burrow, made of rock and mud and sand, despite that it was still warm and homely, the Satry's cabin and garden was to the west, a border separating the four sections as a mutual resect for each other's territory.

The both of you at on the porch, on a wooden bench that overlooked the wild overgrowth, your partner played his panpipes all while occasionally tapping one of his hooves to the rhythm he was creating.

It was peaceful, calm, tranquil, Everything you could've asked for, relaxing in the rays of the sun, listening to the birds above in the trees sing and chip their songs in tune with the creature next to you was emitting. You felt at peace, tugging the oversized woollen blanket tighter around your shoulders, wearing liminal or no clothing was the better option when you never know when you're going to be bent over and stuffed next, plus most of your lover wore liminal or no clothing.

Closing your eyes, leaning back onto the woven cushions that decorates the bench, resting your head on the Satyrs left shoulder carefully as to not disturb his melody, a short sounding like heaven right now.

The music from the pipes stop, followed by a soft chuckle, "Not falling asleep on my, are you?" the creature next to you laughs, setting the pipes down on the table in front of him and pulling you into his lap, facing him and forcing you to rest your head on his chest.

"No, I'm just resting my eyes." You mutter, moving your arms up and around his neck, allowing him into your blanket cocoon. The wool blanket was enormous and dwarfed you, dragging along the ground and trailing behind you every time it draped it over you, it drowns you in its softened fabric that was hand-woven together with such care and was a gift from your orc from one of his many travels. You feel the Satyrs' hands hold your waist, leisurely stroking your skin in feather-like touches. Nuzzling into his neck, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of his neck, you move to straddle his left thigh, feeling his plush yet coarse fur underneath you. The Satry locks his arms around your waist and interlocking his fingers together behind your back to keep you in place, the two of you sit and enjoy the last of the birdsongs and late-day warmth.

His hands disconnect and move to your ass, slowly kneading the flesh in his hands in slow movements. Flinching after a practically hard squeeze, rock your exposed clit against his thigh you're straddling, the fur catches your bundle of nerves. Burrowing your face into the Satyrs neck as he continues to squeeze and knead the globes of your asschecks, his blunt nails leaving crescent marks in their wake as you whimper from the combined sensations of his hands and fur bumping against you.

"You like this? Grinding against my leg, getting my fur all wet with your slick?" He teases, landing a hard slap to your right butt cheek, rubbing over the now redden mark left behind where the Satyrs hand made contact. Moving your head down, still keeping your forehead pressed against his skin, arms still around his neck, you spot an appearing damp patch of now clumping fur from where you've been sitting, the sight alone makes you moan out loud softly. The woollen blanket slips down a bit from your shoulders, pooling around your waist and his thighs, the ends still held tight in your hands. The Satyr laughs, roughly squeezing the flesh in his hands at your hip and rear, guiding you to grind gently against him, forcing you back and forth and down onto the wet clutch of fur over and over and over.

Tangling your fingers though his hair, the Satyr bends his neck forward to leave butterfly kisses on your neck as his nails dig deeper into your skin. A sudden breeze of cold air rushes through the garden, rustling the tree leaves and sending shivers down your spine, causing you to remember how exposed you are for all to see. The wind didn't seem to bother the goat-hoofed man, simply returning the sheet of coloured strands of woven wool back onto your shoulders and securing it in place, neatly smoothing down the fabric before returning his hands back under the cloth to return them to their previous places.

"Can't have my sweet songbird getting cold now, can I?" The Satyr whispers in your ear, "Not before I've had my fun with you." The leg you're currently straddling starts to lightly bounce, causing you to gentle rock forward and back. His hoof tapping a hollow rhythm agasint the wooden planks of the porch decking, possiblely denting the wood. Running a hand down his torso and midsection, tracing the happy trail and following it down towards his sheth hidden amonsgt the short hair, rubbing a hand over it in time with your movments

The Satry buries his head further in the crook to your neck, muffling his groans as you play with his balls, massaging them in your hand, keeping on his shoulder for leaverge, toying with his emerging cock. Stroking up and down, thumbing over the leaking tip and smearing his warm pre-cum over your hands and down his dick, using it as lube to speed up your movemnts. You both move in tandem, each time you rock your hips, you move you hand up, dragging your thumb over the tip every few stroke to collect the fresh white fluid spilling out before moving your hand back down, occasilny playing with the Satrys hanging sack.

The Satyr dig his fingernails in further into your skin, fresh bruises and deep crescent marks appering that are sure to cause a few bets and competitons between your monster lovers that will last for weeks. You moan after he bounces his leg faster, the wood under his tapping hoof creaks and groans at the pressure of the Satry exsecntric movments, the thoughts of a dent in the boards is now proven right when you hear a faint crack. An abrupt, sharp thrust forward and the stinging feeling of a hand coming in sharp content with flesh, making you jump and thighs to tighten around his in pleasure.

Another and another and another.

One right after the other, forcing you to flinch and squirm against his hold, the imprint of his fingers darkening the more they dig in to keep you still. The Satyr moves his head from your neck to lock his lips with yours, tongue dancing with yours as you moan and groan and whimper, exploring deep inside your oral cavity, sloppily, as you both let yourselves get lost in the waves of pleasure and each others embrace, the sounds of the birds and wildlife bleeding into the background of your little bubble, the noise ringing in your ears as your blood roars in your ears, mixing with your raging heartbeat in your chest.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, thighs clamping around his furry thighs as you shake, soaking the Satyrs hair further as you detach your spit-covered lips from his, head thrown back and mouth open in a silent scream, hand still working along his cock until he joins you in pure orgasmic bliss, shooting his load over where his skin meet his fur and your hand, that's still slowly pumping his dick until he's shooting blanks. Both sitting, basking in the late-day sun just peeking over the horizon bleeding oranges and pinks and reds along the sky that makes your skin glow, the Satyr moves his hands around your waist again to re-interlock his fingers behind your back, pulling you closer towards him, not caring about the mess on his torso or on his thigh.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, one hand still slightyl covered in his cum, the woolen blankent cocooning you again from the chill of the early night air. The Satry humming a gentle lullaby to soothe you into a peacful sleep, to which you happily accept, safe in his arms and in your shared sanctury.

[alexquisites-blog]

|When Grumpy Meets Color | Scott x Reader|

It was cloudy with sunshine shining through the grey clouds, Scott and his partner Y/N stood side by side, eyeing their task for the day: building and outdoor bench for their little garden nook. This task had Scott initially seem enthusiastic about it, but now he was his normal grumpy-yet-charming demeanor.

"Are you absolutely sure that this bench is going to fit right there?" Scott asked with his brows furrowed, pointing to the shady part under the oak tree.

Y/N laughed, nudging him with their shoulder. "Yes, Scott, I promise you that it will fit perfectly. You just got to trust my measurements."

Scott huffed as his arms crossed his muscular chest. "Last time you said that, we ended up with a damn lopsided shelf."

"Hey! That shelf has character damn it!" They retorted smiling big and wide.

Scott chuckled, as his grumpiness began to fade slowly with the sun beginning to shine brighter slowly. "The sooner it's done, the sooner we can go out and get drinks."

As the bench began to take it's shape Scott couldn't help as he finally smiled. It was all coming together.

"See? I told you this would be fun!" They said all excited.

Scott snorted as he rolled his eyes. "Y/N fun is a strong word. But maybe it's not funis the word. But I guess I enjoy it." He shrugged.

"Coming from you that you 'enjoy it' that's a high praise!" They teased.

They began painting in before not too long paint splatters started flying, and before long, Scott had a streak of blue across his cheek."Hey, watch it!" he said, laughing as he swiped at their arm, leaving a splash of green.

Y/N grinned and retaliated, flicking paint onto Scott’s shirt. "The offical paint wars have officially begun."

Scott laughed, trying to dodge the next splatter, but his partner was quicker. They leaned closer, paintbrushes moving in chaos, until they were both covered in a patchwork of colors.

They took a step back to admire their work, paint dripping from their hands. Their eyes met, and Scott’s grumpy facade softened. "You know," he said, taking a deep breath, "this might be definitely better than the shelf."

Y/N tilted their head, wiping a streak of paint from Scott’s cheek. "Yeah, it’s been pretty amazing. Especially with you, of course. Plus, you aren't so grumpy this time."

Scott's expression turned tender, and he reached out, pulling them into a gentle embrace. "You make everything better, you know that?"

They rested their head on his shoulder, smiling. "And you make all the mess worth it."

[hunterscabin]

Our Spot

Summary: Dean and the reader create a new memory at their favorite spot.

Request: Car sex with Dean. Passion, pleasure, over the top sex. @hawaiianohana15

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, male receiving, female receiving, face riding, car sex, fluff. 

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Note: This is my first time smutting; please be as loving and generous to me as Dean is to the reader! 

“Where are we going?” you asked, relaxing into the passenger seat of the Impala.

It had been three days since anyone left the bunker. There were no hunts to be found, and the weather was less than ideal for outdoor excursions. You and Sam were able to pass the time easily with research and conversation, but Dean’s daring spirit was starved without adventure, and he was beginning to reach the breaking point of his restlessness. He needed no convincing to agree on a late night drive, and it wasn’t long before you were speeding down Route 36.

“You’ll see.” Dean smirked, reaching across Baby’s bench seat to grab your hand.

Several miles and half of a Bob Seger album later, Dean veered toward a familiar exit. He turned down a tree-lined road, and as the car came to a stop, you inched closer to him.  

“Our spot.” you sighed contentedly, resting your head on his broad shoulder. 

Through a small clearing, you watched the rain dance across the water of Lovewell Reservoir. The picture before you was the backdrop of many meaningful moments, and a serene exhale floated past your lips as you traced them in your mind. Picnics shared under the tall oak trees, peaceful retreats to the lake after particularly bad hunts, Dean asking you to move into the bunker with him and Sam.

“So many good memories.” you whispered.

Dean kissed your temple in agreement, reminiscing over the same highlight reel.

“Except one.” he added, his voice gruff and suggestive.

Your gaze remained steady on the horizon, but your brow furrowed. You were lost in trying to place Dean’s meaning when you felt a strong hand dragging slowly up your thigh.

You looked to Dean, finding clarity in the mischievous grin spreading across his face, and your heart skipped a beat. Eagerly, you threw one leg across his lap, straddling him where he sat in the driver’s seat.

“It’s hard to believe we’ve never christened our spot.” you remarked coyly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You teased him, hovering your lips over his, just before the point of contact. Dean’s hot breath mingled with yours until the tension was too much to bear. Your lips met in a passionate kiss. Dean’s tongue spilled over yours, and you grew increasingly desperate for more of him. Chasing the sensation forming between your legs, you rolled your hips over his lap, feeling his cock harden beneath you.

“Baby.” Dean hummed, easing his hands under your shirt. His fingertips caressed your soft skin, ghosting over your sides, across your back, and around your breasts.

“You know, I love the names you have for me,” you admitted, kissing his shoulder, “but when you say ‘baby’ in this context,” you paused, fluttering your lips along his jaw, “I honestly don’t know if you’re referring to me or the car.”

Dean breathed a low laugh over your neck, taking your face in his hands.

“Tonight is all about you.” he promised.

With that, Dean lifted your shirt over your head and expertly unclasped your bra. You let the fabric fall until your breasts were fully exposed.

“So beautiful.” Dean licked his bottom lip at the sight of you, pulling the plump flesh between his teeth.

He bowed to your chest, taking your nipple in his mouth. His tongue teased your delicate skin, and the sensation sent shock waves to your already aching core. The more he toyed with your chest, the faster you rocked against him.

Caught in another kiss, your hand drifted to unfasten Dean’s belt. You pulled down his pants and boxers, allowing his swollen cock to spring free. You let out a lustful whimper before dismounting the hunter to stretch across the front seat.

Resting on your elbows, you took Dean’s impressive length in your warm hand and began to pump. Your mouth fell open, and you unconsciously licked your lips.

“Hungry for me, baby?”

You answered by glancing up at Dean with a wanting expression and drawing your tongue up the length of his shaft, not once breaking eye contact. Lapping at the tip, you swirled your tongue around the head, feeling Dean tense beneath you. You shifted forward, taking all of him in your mouth, sucking rhythmically as your head bobbed over his lap.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Dean’s hand combed through your hair, settling on the back of your head. He pulled gently at first, but the harder and faster you sucked, the tighter his grip became. “So good, baby.”

Dean’s palm slid down the curve of your body to grip your ass. His firm grasp spurred you on, and you hollowed your cheeks. You massaged the base of his cock, your hand working in tandem with your mouth. Dean began to writhe beneath you, and your steady rhythm broke as he came undone, spilling into you. You swallowed around his pulsating cock, easing him through his climax.

You kissed your way up Dean’s body until your eyes met his. Glistening with the evidence of his satisfaction, Dean gently wiped your chin before pressing his lips to yours.

“Shall we move this to the bedroom?” you quipped, climbing toward the rear of the car.

You paused after mounting the bench seat, and a wicked smile played on your lips. Leaning forward, your right hand disappeared under the collar of Dean’s shirt, bracing on his firm chest. Your left hand reached above you to splay against Baby’s hood. Eyeing Dean, you began to drag your throbbing core across the supple leather. Your chest heaved as the friction teased you through your jeans.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Dean growled, watching your body glide back and forth. “I want you to ride my face like that, baby.”

You mewled at Dean’s confession, and he deftly advanced toward the back, pulling you with him. He ripped off his shirt before attending to you. Dean’s eyes were ravenous as he unbuttoned your pants and removed your underwear. He laid flat beneath your naked form, and you kneeled on either side of his hips.

“I want to taste you, Y/N.” Dean’s voice was full of need as he hooked his hands behind your knees, pulling you toward him.

He nipped at your thighs as you eased yourself onto his lips. Dean’s tongue welcomed you, drawing through your folds. His movements were tortuously light, and you twitched with every graze.

“Dean.” you purred. 

At the sound of his name, the depth and pressure of his tongue increased. You rocked your hips as he waved up and down your velvety core. He licked into you with fervor, stopping only to wrap his lips around your clit. He sucked vigorously, and your back arched in pleasure.

“Oh, fuck. Right there, baby.” Your hands moved to massage your breasts, and Dean moaned at the sight of you. The extra sensation of his vibrating lips pushed you over the edge. Your entire body trembled as he worked you through your orgasm.

Dean shifted beneath you, sitting up so that you were face to face. He cradled your head while trailing kisses along your jaw, down your neck, and across your collarbone. His touch was electric, and you were already craving more.

“Make love to me, Dean.”

At your request, a needy groan rumbled in his chest. Dean slipped an arm around your waist, gently lowering you onto your back. Already hard from eating you out, he required no preparation. Green eyes bore longingly into yours as Dean lined himself up with your entrance. He dragged his cock between your folds before pushing into you. Your walls stretched to accept him, and you relished in the sweet burn as he bottomed out inside you. Dean stayed this way as he leaned down to kiss you. He hadn’t even moved, and the feeling inside you was already starting to build.

“Dean.” you begged through the kiss, and he took his queue.

He thrust into you, and the slow drag of his cock was exquisite. Your legs quivered as his body moved with yours in a way only mastered after years of exploration.

“God, Y/N. You feel so good.”

Dean had memorized every inch of you, and he used his expertise to draw you closer to the edge. His hands moved between your breasts, kneading your chest and rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

“Fuck!” Your euphoric cry excited the hunter, and his thrusts became more precise. Dean’s cock found the sweet spot inside you, causing you to draw in a sharp breath. He held his position, increasing his pace until you were screaming his name.

“Come for me, baby.” Dean commanded, his voice impossibly low.

Dean’s thumb rubbed your clit, quickly circling the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing you to reach your brink. A second orgasm erupted through you, and as your walls clenched around him, Dean willfully succumbed to his own climax.

His heart racing, Dean fell down beside you, breathless. He pulled you onto his chest, and you melted into him, caught in a dreamy haze. His cheek pressed gently to your forehead, and you craned your neck to gaze up at him. He dipped his head to capture your lips, kissing you sweetly. Your head fell back into the crook of Dean’s neck, and you breathed in his familiar, intoxicating scent.

You stayed like this for some time, completely relaxed in the comfort of each other’s arms, listening to the rain fall on the hood of Dean’s 67 Chevy.

Original tags: @81mysteriouslyme, @hawaiianohana15, @that67chevyimpala​

Masterlist

[simstorian-blog]

Pebble Burrow

(CC List + Links)

World Map: Oasis Springs

Area: Bedford Strait

Lot Size:  30 x 20

(3-bedroom—4 beds, 2 Bathroom)

Gallery ID: Simstorian-ish

Packs Used

Cats & Dogs

Desert Luxe Kit

Dream Home Decorator

For Rent

Get Together

Get To Work

Growing Together

High School Years

Horse Ranch

Snowy Escape

Spa Day

Strangerville

Build Mode

Harlix – Orjanic Pt. 1 (Sliding Door)

Harrie – Kwatei Pt. 1

LedgerAtelier – Marble Buro Floors

Max20 – Poolside Lounge (Agave)

MrOlkan – Pools

Peacemaker – Vaulted Ranch

Pierisim – Tilable (Used throughout)

Buy Mode

Awingedllama – Apartment Therapy (Floor Plant, Tastefully Lamp)

Awingedllama – Blooming Room (Plant 2)

Awingedllama – Boho Living (Cement Planter, Curvy Lamp, Floor Plant)

BlueTeas – Rivers Bed Blanket

Charly Pancakes – Miscellanea (Books)

ClutterCat – Mellow Moods (Inner Circle Rug)

Felixandre – Grove Pt. 2 (Stacked Bowls, Stacked Plates)

Felixandre – Shop The Look 1 (Hanging Lights, Wooden Table)

Felixandre – Paris Pt. 3 (Coffee Table)

Harlix – Baysic

Harlix – Baysic Bathroom

Harlix – Harluxe (AC Control, Book w Sunglasses, Light Switch)

Harlix – Kichen (Glasses, Tumblers)

Harlix – Livin’ Rum

Harrie – Coastal Pt. 2 (Outdoor Coffee Table)

Harrie – Octave Pt. 4 (Light Switch)

Joyce – Simple Live # 5 (Bathrobe, Shower Gel)

Joyce – Simple Live # 6 (Umbrella Rack)

KiwiSims4 – Blockhouse Bedroom (Floor Lamp)

KKB – Citrus Room (Cushion V1, Paintings)

Meinkatz – Moor Rug

Meinkatz – Superoblong Bed

MyCupofCC – Bathroom Collection (Fluffy Slippers)

Nordica Sims – Art Poster 01

Peacemaker – Bowed Bedroom (Squat Lamp)

Peacemaker – Hinterlands Living (Fringed Pouffe)

Peacemaker – Hudson Bathroom (Portal Mirror)

Peacemaker –Kassova Sectional

Peacemaker – Kitayama Bedroom (Smaller Zen Table)

Peacemaker – Matilda Mudroom (Beanie on Hook, Knit on Hook)

Peacemaker – Over the Rainbow (Pencil Tin)

Pierisim – David’s Apartment Kitchen (Fridge, Sinks, Stove)

Pierisim – David’s Apartment Pt. 2 (Nightstand, Double + Single Bed Frame)

Pierisim – Domaine Du Clos Pt. 3 (Single Bedding)

Pierisim – MCM Pt. 1 (Books, Simstudio Display)

Pierisim – MCM Pt. 3 (Narrow Rug,)

Pierisim – MCM Pt. 4 (Kitchen Counters + Island + Shelves)

Pierisim – MCM Pt. 5 (Double Bedding, Plain Rug)

Pierisim – Oak House Pt. 1 (Sideboard)

Pierisim – Tidying Up (Shelf)

S-imagination – Oak & Concrete Patio (Round Grill)

Simplistic – Indigo Art Prints

SixamCC – Life in Plastic (Bar Chair)

SixamCC – Small Spaces (Desk Calendar)

Sundays – Java Pt. 1 (Throw Blanket)

Sundays – Keidri Pt. 1 (Throw Pillow Prints + Solids)

Sundays –Keramas Pt. 1, 3, 5 (Daybed Single, Living Chair, Sofa)

Sundays – Sumatra Pt. 1 (Patio Bench)

Syboubou – Dino Bedroom (Drawings)

TianaSims – Cookbook

Tuds – Ind 02 (Décor Bottles)

Ung999 – Faye Blanket

Winner9 – Malibu Books

DO NOT REUPLOAD MY LOTS.

DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.

DO NOT PLACE BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Tray Files: DOWNLOAD

[upinteriors]

Renovation House V by Hans Verstuyft Architecten

A typical add construction, dark and cold, a not so clever intervention from the past to expand a classical house, was the starting point. Where extra surface area is usually regarded as luxury, the opposite was the way of thinking here. By exchanging living space for outdoor space, a larger garden was created with a kind of garden room. Moreover, the daylight could penetrate more deeply into the house. The outside room is a nice covered area with a bench and a fireplace. The “living” kitchen is now on full width. A characterless skylight was masked with small wooden beams, outside these function as a sunblind. The interior is simple and sober: an off-white colour palette, natural stone, oak. Concrete and Corten steel weather naturally outside.

Design: Hans Verstuyft Architecten Location: Antwerp, Belgium Year: 2017 Photography: The Fresh Light

[mysimsdiary]

GEN 1: DAISY

Founder: Bria Niamh Juarez 🐤

Traits: Loves outdoors, romantic, clumsy, cheerful

Job: Gardener

Partner: Elio De’Luca

PART 1 - Bria Niamh stood at the edge of Newcrest's bustling streets, her worn duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Her heart raced as she glanced over her shoulder, fearing the sound of her parents' angry voices. The bruises on her arms and the ache in her chest served as reminders of why she needed to leave. This was it—the escape she'd been planning for months. She tightened her grip on the strap of her bag and stepped onto the bus heading to Brindleton Bay, a coastal town she barely remembered but where her grandmother had once lived.

The bus ride was long and filled with uncertainty, but the thought of her grandmother's warm smile gave her hope. Brindleton Bay greeted her with the scent of salty air and the cries of seagulls. Her heart sank as she reached the De'Luca mansion, an imposing yet inviting estate overlooking the bay. She knocked hesitantly on the door, and a young man, likely in his twenties, answered.

"I'm looking for my grandmother," Bria said, her voice trembling. "She used to work here as a maid. Is she still here?"

The man frowned. "You mean Marianna? She… she passed away last year. I'm sorry."

The words hit Bria like a wave, stealing her breath. Tears welled in her eyes, and she staggered back, sitting on the cold stone steps. The young man, Elio De'Luca, looked conflicted before calling out to someone inside. Moments later, an older man appeared—Mr. De'Luca, the patriarch of the family.

"What’s going on here, Elio?" he asked before noticing Bria. "And who is this?"

Elio explained, and Bria choked out her story between sobs. Mr. De'Luca listened intently, his face softening with compassion. "Marianna was like family to us," he said after a moment. "She spoke of her granddaughter often. Come inside, child. You look like you need a warm meal and a place to rest."

Bria hesitated but followed him into the grand home. Mrs. De'Luca joined them in the sitting room, her kind eyes scanning Bria’s tear-streaked face. After hearing her story, the De’Lucas exchanged a meaningful glance.

“We have a small cottage on the edge of the property,” Mrs. De'Luca said. “It hasn’t been used in years, but if you’re willing to put in some work, it could be yours. Your grandmother would want you to have a safe place to stay.”

Bria stared at them, overwhelmed by their kindness. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to repay you.”

“You don’t need to,” Mr. De'Luca said firmly. “Your grandmother gave so much to this family. It’s the least we can do.” And so they went together to the cottage.

The cottage was small and dusty, with ivy creeping along its stone walls. It was clear it had been abandoned for years, but Bria saw its potential. The De’Lucas provided her with cleaning supplies, and Elio even helped her clear out the cobwebs.

Mrs. De'Luca noticed Bria's gaze and smiled softly. “Your grandmother loved tending this garden when she wasn’t working. She said it brought her peace. I think she’d be happy for you to care for it now.”

Bria knelt down and ran her fingers through the soil. She spotted herbs—lavender and rosemary—struggling to grow among the wild plants, their faint scent still lingering in the breeze. Tears stung her eyes as she imagined her grandmother here, hands covered in earth, humming quietly to herself.

Over the following days, as Bria worked on the cottage, she found herself drawn to the little garden. She cleared the weeds, repaired the crumbling stone border, and planted seeds the De'Luca family had provided. The garden became her refuge, a place to reflect and heal. As the weeks passed, it began to bloom again, vibrant and alive—just like Bria herself.

One evening, Elio came by, carrying a small wooden bench he’d restored. “For the garden,” he said, setting it beneath the oak tree. “I figured you’d like a place to sit.”

Bria smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. “Thank you,” she said softly, glancing at the growing garden around her. It was no longer just a patch of earth; it was a piece of her grandmother’s legacy, and now, a symbol of her own fresh start.

Previous - Next Part

[oceans-simtown]

Skate Park

Sul Sul!

This is my simtown Skate park. Naturally, I built it on the "Pro Skater Dream Pad" 18X18 lot. Its impressive skating ramp and graffiti-covered exterior made it the perfect candidate.

The park contains many items from the Urban Outdoors event: the silver spray paint supplies, the black and silver retro boomboxes, and the abstract roller rink and dance floor (both bold and pastel).

I added 2 basketball courts in the corner, a snowboard rack in lieu of a skateboard rack, 2 movie cameras to capture neat tricks, a breakdancing boombox (from the hobby section, not to be confused with the 2 retro boomboxes), 3 oak school benches, a blue dumpster and a fire hydrant.

For the patio, I was torn between grey slate and blue sports ground. Ultimately, I chose to create an old, well-loved park, and the grey slate made more sense for that look than the more modern and vibrant sports ground.

Here's the layout:

That's the skate park! I hope you like it 💚 Feel free to ask any questions in the comments!

[fakedeepbeyonce]

Garden Furniture- What You Need To Know Before Purchasing Them?

By choosing the right type of garden furniture, you can emblazon your outdoor space by click here giving it an appearance of a cozy outdoor living room.

Today most of the modern homes have a beautiful patio or garden where people can unwind and spend their leisure time with family and friends. With varieties galore, choosing modern garden furniture is not a challenging task anymore. Selecting the right type of furniture is quite vital in enhancing the overall beauty of your home. Luckily, today there is a variety of garden furniture, made from different materials and different styles, available in many of the online stores. However, there are certain factors to consider before you choose outdoor furniture.

Important Factors to Consider Durability: One of the most important factors to consider before purchasing outdoor furniture is durability. It should be able to withstand varying climatic conditions. Appearance: Garden furniture need not be conventional unlike the olden days. Today some of the most stylish and exquisite varieties of furniture can be bought from many of the online stores at affordable price rates. Interior décor: Outdoor furniture must compliment the interior décor of your home.

It should be a reflection of your personal tastes and styles which you have projected in the interior décor of your home. Choosing similar types of furniture, colors and materials will add an indefinable charm to your patio. Costs: Another important factor to consider while purchasing garden furniture is its costs. Outdoor furniture is susceptible to the elements so it is important to buy superior quality furniture and accessories. Outdoor furniture is often more expensive than the indoor furniture. Purpose: Before you choose outdoor furniture, it is important to assess its purpose.

Outdoor furniture is used for many purposes. It can be used to entertain friends and family for a small party, a barbeque with a large group of friends and so forth. It can also be used for individual purposes such as sleeping, relaxing, lounging and dining. So it is important to choose garden furniture accordingly. Variety of Garden Furniture There are more than a hundred different varieties of outdoor furniture that can be chosen according to individual preferences. The following sections highlight some of the most popular and widely used outdoor furniture. Wooden furniture: Among the most common types of patio furniture include wooden furniture. Today an attractive variety of wooden furniture is available in many of the online and offline stores. Wood such as pine, mahogany and oak is used to make stylish varieties of furniture.

Wooden chairs, benches, stools, tables and swings add an aesthetic beauty to your patio. Metal furniture: Patio furniture made of cast iron is another popular variety which is known for its elegant appearance. Metal furniture is known to last longer than other types of furniture though it is quite expensive. Plastic furniture: One of the cheapest types of outdoor furniture is the plastic furniture. Though inexpensive, it lasts for a short period of time. Plastic furniture is easily damaged when exposed to harsh climatic conditions. However, it requires little or no maintenance compared to the wooden and metal furniture.

[breedaboyd]

Day 18 ~ Wolf at the Door

Prompt: Olfactophilia (Scent Kink).

Pairing: John McBride × Ezra May (M!OC).

Word Count: 3k+

CW: Anal sex, cumflation, knotting, outdoor sex, scent kink, semi-public, teasing, throat-fucking.

The grand hall is a swirl of opulent fabrics and sparkling chandeliers, a symphony of voices and laughter that fills the air. Detective May navigates the crowd with a grace that belies the turmoil beneath his composed exterior. The occasion demands decorum but the proximity of John, the magnetic pull between them, is an irresistible force.

John, standing tall in his impeccable suit, is a pillar of composure. His canine senses, ever vigilant, detect the subtle changes in the air. He catches the undercurrent of Ezra's scent, a heady mix of arousal and heat, swirling hot and sweet around them. It's an intoxicating cocktail that stirs something primal within him.

As they exchange pleasantries with other guests, Ezra's touches, though seemingly innocent, are anything but. Fingertips brushing against John's arm, a subtle graze of their hands; it's a dance of temptation, a silent invitation that hangs between them. John's breath catches, his eyes fixed on Ezra's lips, aching to close the distance. He senses the primal part of him, the wolf within, stirring, its instincts urging him to claim what's his. He fights against it, the battle evident in the tightening of his jaw and the controlled tension in his body.

Ezra's laughter rings out, a melodic sound that reverberates. It's a siren's call, drawing him ever closer to the edge of restraint. He imagines sweeping Ezra away from the crowd, finding solace in the private chambers of his thoughts. Their eyes meet and, in that shared gaze, there's a spark of recognition, an acknowledgment of the tension between them. It's a silent understanding, a secret pact that thrums beneath the surface of polite conversation.

As the night wears on, the pull between them intensifies. Ezra's scent, now heavy and enveloping, weaves a spell that threatens to shatter John's control. He can't help but picture it; shoving him against the wall, growling and panting, as he slides inside, jamming his hips up against Ezra's, hearing him whine and beg...

He excuses himself, needing a moment to collect his thoughts, to rein in the feral instincts that threaten to consume him. The cool night air hits him like a pail of cold water, grounding him. He makes his way to a stone bench, breathing in deep, trying to clear his head. But even in the solitude of the garden, he can't escape Ezra's scent, lingering like a seductive promise. It's a maddening torment, the battle between restraint and desire, duty and want...

The night air hangs heavy with the scent of blooming roses and damp earth. Ezra's footsteps echo softly on the cobblestones as he wanders through the moonlit garden, the flickering lanterns casting long, dancing shadows. He's drawn to the stone bench nestled beneath an ancient oak tree, a hidden sanctuary.

As he approaches, he senses John's presence before he even sees him. The air seems to hum with a strange energy, a shift in the atmosphere. And then, there he is, perched on the bench, moonlight pooling around him like a shroud.

John looks up and his eyes gleam, two molten pools of gold that catch the moonlight, a stark contrast to the night sky. It's a sign; a warning. The beast within him is close to the surface, instincts threatening to break free. Ezra settles beside him and there's a charged silence, a palpable tension that hangs in the air. He can feel the weight of John's gaze on him, the hunger in it, and it sends a delicious thrill through him.

"You should be inside." John's voice is low, a rumble that seems to vibrate through Ezra's lean frame. Ezra turns to look at him, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"I needed some fresh air. Besides, the company in there was...lacking." He says, his tone teasing. Lacking what, Ezra? Lacking what? John's jaw tightens, a flash of frustration crossing his face.

"You're testing me, Ezra." He warns, his voice strained. Ezra's smile widens, a boldness taking hold of him. He shifts closer, their thighs brushing, and the scent of John washes over him, strong and savoury and animal. It's a potent cocktail, one that stirs something deep within him.

"I wonder, John." Ezra's voice is a sultry purr. "What about me tests your patience? Is it the way I touch you or maybe the way I look at you?" He asks, batting his bright emerald eyes at the older man. John's breath hitches, a dangerous edge creeping into his gaze. He's on the edge, teetering dangerously close to losing control.

"Ezra..." He warns again, his voice a low growl. But Ezra presses on, a fire burning in his eyes.

"Or is it the way you can't help but react to me? How your beast longs to be set free? Because I belong to you and you can't bear to see me close to someone else?" John's fingers clench on the edge of the bench, his knuckles turning white. He's struggling, the battle within him evident in every rigid line of his body. Ezra leans in, his lips brushing against John's ear, his breath a warm caress. "You're so close, John. I can feel it. Can you?" The words hang in the air; a challenge, a taunt. The scent of their arousal mingles, thick and delicious, and Ezra can almost taste the tension.

The spark that ignites the explosion is subtle, a taunting glint in Ezra's eye, a seductive tilt to his lips. John's control finally snaps. He lunges at Ezra with a feral growl and they crash onto the soft grass, the impact knocking the breath from them both.

Ezra lands on his back, John on top of him, a wild, untamed hunger in his eyes. His mouth finds Ezra's neck, and he attacks with a rabid fervour, nipping, biting and licking as if he can't get enough. The sensation sends shivers through Ezra's body and he can't help but arch into John's touch.

"John...!" He gasps, his voice a heady mix of desire and need. John's hands are everywhere, gripping Ezra's shoulders, his hips, his thighs, as if he's trying to anchor himself to reality. But his control has shattered and there's a desperation in his touch that Ezra finds intoxicating.

Ezra's fingers tangle in John's hair, nails scratching at his scalp. He leans in, lips brushing against John's ear and whispers teasingly. "Doesn't it feel so good, John? To let go and finally give in?"

The words only seem to fan the flames of John's feral desire. He moves lower, his lips tracing a burning path along Ezra's collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt-sweet skin at the hollow of his throat.

Ezra's voice is a sultry purr as he continues to tease, his fingers carding through John's hair and scratching him behind the ear in a way that makes John shiver with delight. "You're gorgeous like this; wild and feral for me."

John's response is a growl, a sound that rumbles through Ezra's chest. He surges forward, capturing Ezra's lips in a kiss that's fierce and consuming. It's all tongue and teeth and sweet, sweet, wanton need. John's eyes gleam with a fierce intensity, the primal beast within him clawing at the surface, demanding release. John reaches up with shaking hands and the sound of fabric ripping tears through the air as scraps of fabric flutter onto the grass.

Ezra's breath comes in quick, shallow gasps, his heart pounding with a heady mix of desire and trepidation. His suit, once impeccable, lies in tatters, testament to John's relentless need. John moves closer, his movements predatory. He doesn't ask, doesn't seek permission; he simply acts.

His hands, powerful and unyielding, find the remnants of Ezra's suit and with a low growl, he tears it away. Buttons scatter like leaves in the wind, fabric shreds like paper, leaving Ezra exposed and vulnerable. "John..." Ezra gasps, a mix of desire and surrender in his voice. John's lips brush Ezra's ear as he snarls possessively, his words a raw declaration of ownership.

"Belong to me." He murmurs, his voice low and commanding. "Have to claim you." Ezra's fingers dig into the grass beneath him as John's mouth blazes a searing trail down his neck. The sensations are a whirlwind of pleasure and pain, sending sparks of electricity dancing across his skin.

John's hands roam Ezra's body, rough and hungry, mapping every curve, branding his touch into Ezra's memory. They trace lower, grabbing Ezra's cock in a powerful grip. Ezra's body arches, a helpless plea for more as he surrenders to John's exploration, to the primal force that consumes them both.

"John, please..." He groans, his voice a fervent whisper. John's lips move lower, igniting a wildfire in their wake. He breathes hot and ragged against Ezra's skin, the urgency of his need driving him to the edge. Ezra's fingers clutch at John's hair, urging him closer, deeper into the maelstrom of sensation. He's lost, utterly consumed by John's desire, by the relentless hunger that seizes them.

As John continues his descent, tracing a fiery path down Ezra's body, his words become a desperate mantra.

"Mine. Always." He growls, the word a declaration, a promise of possession. Ezra shudders, his body trembling with need, with the desire to belong. John's hands continue their feverish exploration, rough and unyielding, marking Ezra as his own.

"Always." Ezra echoes, his voice a heady mix of surrender and longing.

John flips Ezra over on the grass, one strong arm wrapped around the smaller man's midsection to keep their bodies pressed flush together. The young man doesn't have to be a detective to feel the huge bulge pressing against his backside, only contained by John's drawers and suit pants. A jolt of arousal shoots through him as he grinds back against John, earning himself a low rumble in response. John reaches down to tear open his pants and his cock springs free, thick and pulsing. Ezra can't help but lick his lips at the feeling, and John shivers as he slicks the shaft with pre-cum. He rocks his hips forward, grinding against Ezra's hole and spreading the slick over his tight rim. 

"Ready?" He growls, the tension and barely restrained desire evident in his voice. Ezra nods frantically, aching to be filled, to be claimed. John thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful stroke, Ezra's hot body taking him all the way to the top of his knot. The sensation is almost too much, the sudden stretch and fullness making Ezra gasp and writhe beneath him. He grabs at handfuls of grass, tearing it from the soil, as he feels John fill him to the brim. "You smell so good..." John groans, his voice a heady mixture of desire and surrender. Ezra's scent is intoxicating, drawing him deeper, already pushing him towards the edge.

He begins to move, setting a punishing pace, the intensity of his need driving him wild. Each powerful stroke grinds against Ezra's prostate, sending waves of pleasure crashing through him. His fingers claw at the earth, desperately seeking purchase as he's swept away in the tide of sensation.

"Christ, John...!" He gasps, the primal fire consuming them both. John buries his face in the crook of Ezra's neck, inhaling the scent of sweat and warm flesh. Oh, how he longs to dig his teeth into the skin, deeper, deeper... The scent of him is intoxicating, sweet and heady, and John can't get enough as he fucks Ezra into the lawn, hard and fast.

Ezra moans wantonly beneath him, each thrust eliciting a new, delicious sound. John's knot begins to swell, stretching Ezra's tight hole even further. The sensations are overwhelming, pushing them both to the brink. "J-John, I can... God, I can feel you in my belly..." The older man's hips buck forward, filling Ezra's body over and over, burying himself in the tight heat of his body. Ezra trembles beneath him, the intensity threatening to tear him apart.

But then, before John can finish, he pulls out and the smaller man's body feels so empty as he's lowered down onto the grass. He turns over to look at John. Gold rings the older man's eyes, a sign of the beast breaking free. "Why... Why did you stop?" He asks and John shakes his head slowly as he reaches up to grasp Ezra's jaw.

"Because I want to use that sweet mouth of yours, darling." He purrs and Ezra's eyes widen in a mix of fear and excitement.

John moves into position, dragging the head of his cock along Ezra's lips, the young detective's body laid out before him, exposed to the cool night air.

"Open for me, love." He orders, voice low and smooth, and Ezra finds himself obeying before he can register it. John slowly slides inside Ezra's mouth, the sweet-salty taste of him making Ezra shudder with pleasure. "Good boy." John growls, his hand wrapping around the younger man's neck, feeling how his cock makes the young detective's throat bulge. Ezra shudders as John slides in, inch by inch, slowly cutting off his air supply, especially with the large, warm hand wrapped around his neck.

The sensation is overwhelming; the taste of him, the weight of him, it's all too much. John's eyes gleam golden hue, a wild hunger in his gaze. "Now, keep that mouth open." He surges forward, fully fucking Ezra's mouth with a primal intensity, claiming him, possessing him, in a way that no-one else ever could. Very few could take John's size, especially in their mouth, but Ezra has had practice. Still, the older man relishes in watching the way his pretty, emerald eyes roll back into his skull, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he gags.

John's eyes dart between Ezra's legs, the way his cock is twitching and leaking lets him know that the young detective is enjoying every second of this; the cock deep in his throat, the lack of air, the feeling of the grass against his bare skin, the exposure and John... Just John... John everywhere. "Fuck, Ezra... Such a good little whore for me." He grunts, hips bucking forward,  sliding in and out of Ezra's abused throat. He can feel the young detective swallowing around him, and the wet, hot, velvety pressure sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through him. But John knows he can't last much longer. He can feel the beast clawing at the surface, the primal need overwhelming. He can only stave off the beast for so long...

But then he's out. And John is lost in the feral lust of the wolf. He drives his cock deep into Ezra's throat, his knot pressing against the younger man's lips, not quite slipping in just yet. The sounds rising from the green are sloppy and wet, desperate and depraved. John leans over, bracing his hands on the younger man's chest as he bucks his hips against Ezra's face, hard and fast and deep. Ezra's hands rise to grab at John's thighs, nails digging into the flesh, clinging to him as the older man uses him for his own pleasure.

The beast roars to life, a wild, untamed hunger surging through him. He ruts against Ezra's mouth like a wild animal, a primal need driving him forward. John's hips buck forward, grinding against Ezra's face, his knot pressing against the young detective's lips, slick with spit and pre-cum. "Going to...spill straight into that belly of yours, love... Fill you to the brim..." He snarls, growls bubbling up in his throat as he loses control. Ezra's throat is slick and syrupy-soft around his cock and the younger man, he's almost certain, has passed out but he's getting so close. So, so close...

Finally, John reaches his peak and he works his knot into Ezra's mouth, anchoring himself in the smaller man's throat as he pours everything he has straight into Ezra's belly. Wave after wave of thick, hot cum fills Ezra's body, John's knot ensuring that none of it can escape. The sensation is overwhelming and the young detective's body shudders, his own release spilling across his stomach as he twitches. John's fingers tangle in Ezra's hair, gripping tightly as he rides out the aftershocks. He can feel Ezra swallowing around him, the sensation milking every drop from him.

He can feel Ezra's pulse, slow and weak, against the head of his cock, the young detective still desperately clinging to consciousness amid the lack of oxygen. "Not much more, Ezra, love..." John pants, his voice a heady mix of ferocity and tenderness. Ezra's emerald eyes are unfocused, glazed over with pleasure, the beast having stolen away his senses. John can feel the beast receding, the primal need sated for now. Finally, the beast is satisfied and John pulls his spent, over-sensitive cock from Ezra's throat, knot and all.

Slowly, Ezra blinks awake, his body trembling with exhaustion. His throat is sore, his lips swollen and his belly full.

"God, John..." He tries to sit up but his arms feel like jelly, collapsing under him as he lands back on the grass. John tucks himself away and takes off his jacket, draping it over the younger man's exposed body. "I... John..." He murmurs, gently palming at the swell of his stomach and feeling it swollen with copious amounts of John's thick semen.

"Shhh, Ezra, love. You did so well..." John purrs and moves closer, scooping the young detective up into his arms. Ezra's head lolls against the older man's chest, his emerald eyes closing again. John holds him close, his words a soft, soothing murmur. "Let's get you home." He whispers and Ezra smiles faintly, his voice a heady mixture of desire and surrender fighting with a contentment he's never felt before. John lifts him up and begins to walk back down the path towards the grand hall.

He'll deposit the young detective in his carriage before returning inside to say his goodbyes. Then, John will get them both back to his house, where they'll spend the rest of the evening curled up in his bed, whispering sweet nothings in Ezra's ear and holding him close. John's eyes gleam golden hue, a fierce intensity burning within. His beast has been sated, for now. But Ezra is his and his alone.

Always.

[classicmemorialbenches]

Classic Lakeland Memorial Bench

The Classic Lakeland Memorial Bench is an outdoor bench designed to honor the memory of a loved one, particularly those who cherished the natural beauty and tranquility of the Lake District in Northern England, also known as Lakeland.

These benches are typically made of high-quality wood, such as oak or teak, and are designed to withstand the elements and maintain their beauty over time. They often feature a simple and elegant design that complements the natural environment and scenery of the Lake District.

The Classic Lakeland Memorial Bench provides a lasting tribute to a loved one who appreciated the beauty of nature, and offers a peaceful and comfortable place for visitors to rest, reflect and appreciate the stunning surroundings. Some benches also have engravings or plaques that commemorate the individual being remembered, adding a personal touch to the tribute.

These benches are often placed in public areas such as parks or scenic locations, providing a lasting memorial that can be enjoyed by visitors for many years to come. The Classic Lakeland Memorial Bench is not only a tribute to a loved one but also a functional piece of outdoor furniture that offers a comfortable and inviting place to sit and appreciate the natural beauty of the Lake District.

[atplblog]

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