#Spring yard clean up

[yearlongproperty]

Professional Calgary Lawn Care

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[springyardcleanupincalgary]

Essential Grass Care in Calgary: Preparing Your Lawn for a Healthy Spring

Maintaining a beautiful lawn is a point of pride for many homeowners, but achieving that lush, green appearance requires more than just occasional mowing. Proper grass care in Calgary involves a series of essential steps designed to promote healthy growth, prevent weeds, and enhance the overall look of your outdoor space. Calgary’s unique climate, with its cold winters and warm summers, presents specific challenges when it comes to keeping grass healthy and vibrant.

Getting Started with Spring Yard Clean Up in Calgary

One of the most critical steps in preparing your lawn for the growing season is conducting a thorough spring yard clean up in Calgary. Winter often leaves behind debris such as fallen branches, dead leaves, and compacted soil, which can hinder new growth if not addressed properly. Removing this buildup clears the way for sunlight and air to reach the grass, stimulating healthy growth as temperatures begin to rise.

A proper spring yard cleanup includes raking dead grass, aerating the soil, and trimming overgrown shrubs or trees that might block light from reaching your lawn. Aeration is particularly important in Calgary’s clay-heavy soil, as it allows water and nutrients to penetrate deep into the roots.

How Calgary Yard Cleanup Boosts Lawn Health and Appearance

While homeowners often focus on mowing as part of regular lawn care, Calgary yard cleanup plays a significant role in the long-term health of the grass. Yard cleanup isn’t just about making things look neat—it’s about removing the obstacles that prevent your lawn from reaching its full potential. Thatch buildup, for example, can suffocate your lawn by preventing moisture from reaching the soil. By clearing away thatch and debris, you help create the ideal conditions for healthy root development.

Additionally, Calgary’s weather patterns can lead to compacted soil, especially in areas that experienced heavy snow or foot traffic during the winter. Compacted soil restricts airflow and reduces the effectiveness of watering. A thorough yard cleanup that includes aeration helps combat these issues, promoting stronger, deeper roots. The result is a lawn that not only looks greener but also feels softer underfoot and stays resilient during the dry spells that are common in Calgary’s summer months.

Combining Grass Care in Calgary with Effective Weed Prevention

No lawn care routine is complete without addressing the challenge of weeds, which can quickly take over even well-maintained grass. Effective grass care in Calgary requires proactive weed prevention, particularly in the early stages of spring. Removing weeds by hand during your spring yard cleanup helps prevent them from spreading, while pre-emergent treatments can stop new weed seeds from germinating before they become a problem.

Thick, healthy grass is the best defense against weeds, as it competes more effectively for water, sunlight, and nutrients. By focusing on fertilization and proper mowing techniques, homeowners can encourage denser grass growth, naturally reducing the space available for weeds to thrive. Regular yard cleanup, combined with targeted weed prevention efforts, ensures that your lawn remains both healthy and visually appealing throughout the season.

Why Calgary Yard Cleanup Sets the Stage for a Beautiful Summer Lawn

Investing in a complete Calgary yard cleanup early in the season pays off when summer arrives. Neglected lawns often struggle during the hot months, as weak or patchy areas become more noticeable and harder to repair. A spring cleanup addresses problems before they escalate, giving your lawn a head start for the growing season. By eliminating debris, enhancing soil quality, and promoting nutrient absorption, your grass becomes stronger, greener, and more resistant to seasonal stresses.

Moreover, a tidy, well-maintained yard increases the overall enjoyment of outdoor spaces, whether you’re hosting family barbecues, playing with pets, or simply relaxing in the sunshine. The effort you put into early-season cleanup ensures that your lawn remains a source of pride and comfort during the summer months when outdoor living is at its peak in Calgary.

Final Thoughts on Grass Care and Spring Yard Clean Up in Calgary

For homeowners seeking a vibrant and healthy lawn, combining dedicated grass care in Calgary with a thorough spring yard clean up in Calgary is the key to success. These foundational tasks prepare your lawn to thrive throughout the growing season, providing the nourishment and structure it needs to resist weeds, withstand weather fluctuations, and maintain its lush appearance.

By making spring cleanup an annual routine, and following up with consistent mowing, fertilization, and watering, you create the conditions for a beautiful outdoor space that complements your home. With Calgary’s challenging climate, proactive lawn care gives you the best chance to enjoy a thriving, green lawn all season long.

[yearlongblog]

Spring Yard Clean Up in Calgary: Transforming Outdoor Spaces with Seasonal Care

As winter fades and temperatures rise, homeowners begin turning their attention to restoring their outdoor spaces. A spring yard clean up in Calgary is more than just seasonal tidying—it's a crucial step in preserving the health and appearance of your lawn and garden. This transition period brings an opportunity to clear debris, assess winter damage, and prep your landscape for months of growth. Alongside this, comprehensive spring clean ups in Calgary ensure every corner of your property—from flower beds to fence lines—is ready to flourish.

The Importance of a Thorough Spring Yard Clean Up in Calgary

After months of snow cover and cold winds, your yard likely holds a mix of matted leaves, broken branches, and dead grass. A spring yard clean up in Calgary involves removing this debris to prevent suffocation of the soil and improve water absorption. When organic waste lingers, it can harbour pests and diseases that threaten your landscape's health. Cleaning early in the season not only restores order to your yard but sets a strong foundation for lawn care, planting, and outdoor enjoyment. In Calgary’s fluctuating climate, timing this clean-up correctly can make a noticeable difference in how well your yard thrives.

Why Spring Clean Ups in Calgary Require Strategic Planning

Many homeowners underestimate the complexity involved in effective spring clean ups in Calgary. It's not simply a matter of raking leaves and mowing grass. The process includes soil testing, fertilising, aerating, trimming shrubs, and even planning new plantings. Calgary’s unique climate, with its late frosts and chinooks, means you must plan your cleanup around unpredictable conditions. A well-planned spring clean up ensures your efforts aren’t undone by a sudden temperature drop or unexpected snowfall. It also allows you to spot drainage issues, pests, or damage that could lead to expensive repairs later in the season.

Preparing Your Lawn Through a Spring Yard Clean Up in Calgary

Grass often suffers from snow mould and compacted soil after the winter season. A spring yard clean up in Calgary is the best time to address these issues head-on. Start with dethatching and aerating your lawn to allow nutrients and oxygen to penetrate the soil. Follow this with an early application of a slow-release fertiliser to jump-start growth. Reseeding thin or bare patches can encourage a lush, green carpet throughout summer. Proper preparation in spring saves time and money on maintenance later and keeps your lawn resilient during Calgary’s hot, dry periods.

Spring Clean Ups in Calgary: Refreshing Your Garden Beds

Garden beds require special attention after winter dormancy. During spring clean ups in Calgary, remove any dead annuals, prune back perennials, and clear mulch that may have compacted or disintegrated. This opens up space for fresh planting and revitalises the soil. Early weeding is essential—removing weeds before they seed prevents widespread growth and protects your flowers and vegetables. It’s also a good time to amend the soil with compost or organic fertilisers, enriching it before planting new crops or ornamentals. A clean, well-prepped garden bed becomes the heart of your yard’s visual appeal and productivity.

Dealing with Leaf Litter and Debris in a Spring Yard Clean Up in Calgary

One of the most labour-intensive aspects of a spring yard clean up in Calgary is managing leaf litter, branches, and leftover winter waste. Clearing these materials improves airflow and light penetration across your lawn and garden. Removing wet, decomposing leaves reduces the risk of mould and helps discourage slugs and other pests from settling in. This is also the time to assess tree health—look for broken limbs or signs of disease that may have gone unnoticed during the winter. A clean, debris-free yard contributes to both safety and aesthetics, especially in areas where children or pets play.

Spring Clean Ups in Calgary Help Restore Hardscaping

The benefits of spring clean ups in Calgary extend beyond green spaces. Hardscaping elements like patios, pathways, fences, and decks often take a beating during winter. Dirt, algae, and salt residue can build up, dulling the surface and causing potential damage. Spring is the ideal time to power wash these areas, reseal wooden surfaces, and repair cracks or loose tiles. Paying attention to these structural elements during a clean up enhances your entire yard’s appearance and prepares it for entertaining or outdoor relaxation throughout the warmer months.

Timing and Weather Considerations for a Spring Yard Clean Up in Calgary

Weather in Calgary can be unpredictable, making the timing of your spring yard clean up in Calgary especially critical. Starting too early might mean working with soggy soil, leading to compaction and plant damage. Too late, and you risk letting weeds take over or missing the optimal planting window. The best time usually falls between late April and mid-May, depending on the year’s thaw. Watch for consistent temperatures above freezing and dry ground conditions before beginning. Monitoring long-term forecasts can help you plan a clean upthat’s both effective and sustainable.

Eco-Friendly Spring Clean Ups in Calgary Make a Difference

Environmentally conscious homeowners are turning toward greener methods during spring clean ups in Calgary. Instead of sending yard waste to landfills, composting leaves and clippings recycles nutrients back into the soil. Choosing electric lawn tools over gas-powered ones helps reduce emissions. Avoiding chemical fertilisers and opting for organic treatments improves soil health and reduces runoff pollution. These eco-friendly efforts align with Calgary’s growing sustainability goals while still delivering a beautiful, functional outdoor space. Being thoughtful about your cleanup methods not only benefits your property but also contributes to a healthier local ecosystem.

The Long-Term Benefits of a Spring Yard Clean Up in Calgary

While a spring yard clean up in Calgary may seem like a temporary seasonal task, its benefits can be long-lasting. A thorough spring cleanup leads to fewer pest problems, healthier plant growth, and less need for interventions later in the year. It also boosts property value by maintaining curb appeal and showcasing your home’s outdoor areas. In essence, a clean yard at the start of spring becomes the cornerstone for a successful gardening and landscaping season. It supports the overall harmony of your environment and lets you enjoy your space to the fullest.

Conclusion

A proper spring yard clean up in Calgary is more than seasonal maintenance—it’s an essential ritual for renewing and protecting your outdoor spaces. From cleaning garden beds and reviving lawns to preparing patios and planning ahead, spring clean ups in Calgary shape the foundation of a healthy, vibrant yard. Whether you're seeking to beautify your surroundings or improve long-term landscape resilience, spring cleanup is the first and most important step of the season.

[aesethewitch]

When I was a kid, we moved into a house that had a huge lilac tree out front. It was mostly rotten, and it needed to be taken down before it fell. It took a while, but eventually, it was gone.

Mostly. A couple years later, little lilac babies popped out of the ground in its place. My mom was determined to get rid of them, because she'd planted a beautiful flower garden there, and the lilac trees would overshadow and kill the whole garden. I insisted on saving at least a few saplings. She said fine, but I had to dig them out and put them in pots myself.

So, I did. I spent days digging little lilac bushes out of the ground and putting them into pots. Some couldn't be saved, but some could. When all was said and done, I had five brand-new lilac saplings. Seven or eight years old, and it was my absolute pride and joy.

Three died due to sun scorching, severe drought that no amount of watering could save, and perhaps just being moved from their place in the ground. But two survived, and I was awfully proud of them! I'd go out and talk to them every single day. I watered them by hand and made sure they were fertilized properly. I learned all about their favored environments, and I was determined to make sure they lived.

One of my mom's friends saw what I was doing with the lilacs. She asked if she could have one to put in her backyard, and I agreed on the condition that she take very, very good care of it.

It's now fucking enormous. I'm talking ten feet tall and bursting with beautiful purple flowers every spring. My mom still gets updates each year as they start to bloom, which she forwards to me. And all I can think is, "That's my friend! Thriving some twenty years on, there it is."

The other tree nearly died, too. It lived in a pot for far, far too long. I wanted to plant it somewhere in my parents' yard, but my mom was reluctant. Eventually, we agreed to put it in the far back garden. It grew okay for many years, despite the shade, but in all these years, it's never bloomed.

Last year, the massive tree casting massive shadows over the lilac and the garden cracked in half and fell. It tumbled into the garden, crushing part of the nearby shed and destroying a few plants beneath it.

It missed my lilac by inches.

The clean-up is long done. The rest of the tree has been cut down, and my lilac has full sunlight for the first time in fifteen years. It won't bloom this year, I know. But it's got new shoots up. It's taller than ever. I spent half an hour a few weeks ago praising it for surviving all this time, dreaming about its future and telling it how I believe it'll become the tall beauty it's always been meant to be.

I think next year, I'll see flowers.

[leisure-lawn]

Transform Your Outdoor Space with Spring and Fall Yard Clean-Up Services in Oklahoma

As the seasons shift in Oklahoma, so does the landscape around us. Spring and fall bring a unique set of challenges and opportunities for homeowners looking to maintain a pristine yard. Investing in professional yard clean-up services during these transitional periods can make a world of difference in the overall health and appearance of your outdoor space.

The Importance of Spring Clean-Up

Welcoming a New Beginning

Spring is a time of renewal, and your yard is no exception. After the harsh winter months, lawns and gardens often require a thorough cleaning to remove debris, dead vegetation, and other winter remnants. Professional Spring and fall yard clean up services oklahoma can kickstart the rejuvenation process, ensuring your outdoor space is ready to embrace the warmer days ahead.

Preventing Pest Infestations

Neglecting spring clean-up can invite unwelcome guests like pests and rodents. Fallen leaves and decaying plant matter create a cozy habitat for insects looking to make a home in your yard. By opting for professional services, you not only remove potential breeding grounds for pests but also safeguard your plants from potential infestations.

Promoting Healthy Growth

Spring clean-up goes beyond aesthetics; it plays a crucial role in fostering healthy growth. Trained professionals can assess the soil, remove weeds, and provide necessary treatments, setting the stage for a season of vibrant blooms and lush greenery. This proactive approach ensures that your yard reaches its full potential as the weather warms up.

The Magic of Fall Clean-Up

Preparing for the Winter Chill

As autumn leaves start to carpet your yard, it's a visual delight but also a precursor to the impending winter. Fall clean-up services in Oklahoma become essential to prepare your outdoor space for the colder months. Removing fallen leaves and trimming back perennials can prevent mold and disease, ensuring your plants have a better chance of surviving the winter chill.

Protecting Your Investment

Your yard is an investment, and fall clean-up is a way to protect that investment. By clearing away debris and dead vegetation, you create a clean slate for your yard to flourish come spring. Moreover, addressing potential issues before winter sets in can save you from costly repairs in the future.

Boosting Curb Appeal

A well-maintained yard enhances your home's curb appeal, and fall is the perfect time to lay the groundwork for a stunning spring display. Professional Spring and fall yard clean up services oklahoma not only tidy up your outdoor space but also strategically prepare it for the next growing season. This attention to detail can make a significant difference in the visual appeal of your property.

Choosing the Right Services in Oklahoma

Expertise Matters

When selecting spring and fall yard clean-up services in Oklahoma, expertise matters. Look for professionals with a proven track record in the region, as they understand the specific needs of local flora and climate conditions. This ensures that the services provided are tailored to optimize the health and beauty of your yard.

Year-Round Maintenance Plans

Consider companies that offer year-round maintenance plans, providing a comprehensive approach to keeping your yard in top shape throughout the changing seasons. This not only saves you time and effort but also ensures that your outdoor space receives consistent care.

Client Testimonials and Reviews

Before finalizing your choice, delve into client testimonials and reviews. Hearing about the experiences of others can provide valuable insights into the quality of services offered by a particular company, helping you make an informed decision.

Elevate Your Outdoor Experience

Investing in spring and fall yard clean-up services in Oklahoma is more than just a practical choice; it's a commitment to elevating your outdoor experience. As the seasons transition, let your yard undergo a transformation that reflects the beauty of each stage. With the right professionals by your side, your outdoor space can become a thriving oasis year-round.

[yoitsjay]

[Frothing at the mouth, fiending, biting]

Brought by the pegging headcanons, and my GOD did you deliver.

Your writing brings all thw sluts to the yard and as a Certified Whore, I'm here to request a kinky! af reader.

[It is not a carnal want, it is a Divine NEED to see these men get OBLITERATED]

Toodles!

~😈 anon

I gotcha hon, order up!

Batfam with a kinky! Reader

Warnings: overstimulation, edging, use of toys, bondage, face sitting, (slight) suffocation.

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Bruce Wayne:

You and Bruce had been together for long enough now to where you had reached the point in your relationship where he was willing to try new things.

One of those things just happened to be letting you take some control in the bedroom.

You started slow with him, obviously you didn't want to scare him off with your freakish nature, which he had seen some of more on one occasion when he's railing into your pussy so hard he broke your bed frame and box spring- or when you’re choking and slobbering all over his cock and end up cumming without touching yourself-

But when he finally convinced you to let go, you did.

Now you were on your knees in front of him, stroking his cock slowly, occasionally squeezing at the base to watch him jolt in surprise and let out a frustrated groan. He was sweating, on the verge of breaking because you had denied him an orgasm twice.

“Please sweet girl-”

“Just one more time Brucie, please?”

You edged him only one more time, before finally letting him cum… but as he did, you didn't stop moving your hand, and his moans went from guttural, to higher pitched, almost sounding as light cries while you refused to pull your hand away from his twitching, red cock.

“Cum for me big guy, three times, to make up for the denial. You can do that for me right?"

And god he tried, he let you work him like bread dough as he twitched and jolded and cried out desperately for you to stop, but to keep going at the same time.

When you were done, you hadn't made yourself feel good, which he clocked as you were gently cleaning the sweat and cum off his body.

“You didn't-”

“It's okay Bruce, I still had fun.”

“No- no no let me- let me make you feel good baby, please.”

And who were you to deny Bruce Wayne?

You couldn't, definitely not with how you tortured the poor guy.

Dick Grayson:

It was spontaneous. You were riding him and like always he was grossly absorbed in the way your tits (or cock) bounced as you rode him.

But suddenly he couldn't move his hands, or touch you, and just as he was about to cum you stopped, and pulled off of him all together. “Wait!” He cried out immediately, struggling against the ropes as he looked over at you with a betrayed expression across his face.

You haven't even said a word and he was begging, tears welling up in his eyes as he bucked his hips up into the air. “nonono baby please not right now, don't do this to me now- I’ve been so good!” He whimpered out, then moaned like a bloody porn star when you finally touched him again, and began stroking his throbbing cock.

He was close.

And you pulled away again.

Dick sobbed, loudly, whining like a toddler who wasn't getting his way… which was true.

He was writhing on the bed, trying to fight the restraints on his hands. “Dick you know the safeword-”

“NO!” He practically shouted with tears in his eyes, looking over at you. “Dont stop-” he whimpered

You just smiled, walking over to him as you cupped his face and kissed him softly, seating yourself back on top of his delicious cock, biting at his bottom lip as he moaned out loudly.

“I wanna see you break that rope Dickie. I wont stop the edging until you do”

Yeah, he broke that rope pretty fast.

Jason Todd:

The rope had been something agreed upon before starting.

Jason laid beneath you, hands ties to the bedposts as you were seated on his face, one hand braced on the wall while the other gripped the bed frame as you rocked your hips against his tongue, moaning as he dove his tongue inside you, and lapped at you like a starved animal, even while restrained, his tongue still worked magic on the areas that needed it most.

Then he felt your thighs squeeze around his head, and your pussy was slotted over his nose and mouth, and you stayed there, grinding down against his tongue, but not moving up, or further down to give him space to breathe.

Again, this had been something you talked about with him. When you rode his face he would always end up pulling you down to actually sit on his face, he asked you to just relax, and sit.

Here you were.

Sitting.

It definitely caught him off guard at first, though your scent and taste was overwhelming to him… and when the airflow started getting cut off, and it was progressively getting harder to breath, he started getting lightheaded.

Then you felt something wet hitting your back. Your eyes widened with surprise and you lifted your hips, hearing him gasp and inhale fresh air as you watched cum continue to spurt from his cock, onto your back or his belly.

“Holy shit, Jason-”

Suddenly you felt his hands on your hips, you looked back to him, eyes wide as you noticed the ropes had been snapped, and he had this dangerously hungry gleam in his eyes.

“Your turn.” Was all he practically growled out before his hand was around your throat and he had you impaled on his cock.

Who knew he was into not breathing… Death really did something to him.

Tim Drake:

“Ah! fu-fuckk- Mommy please- please I’m sorry- I’ll be a good boy- I'll be good just let me cum please- please mommy I need it-”

His wails echoed off the walls of your shared penthouse, only to get muffled by the weight of you sitting on his face, his tongue automatically slipping into your cunt as he writhed against the ropes that contained him, his body jerking with every movement of your hand on his cock, shaking with the vibrations of the dildo that stretched his once puckered untouched hole.

Timothy Drake had been reduced to a whiny bitch underneath you, crying against your pussy for mercy, of any kind really.

You had been teasing him for hours… perhaps it was only fair.

You sighed, lifting your hips off his face before climbing off the bed, removing the vinrating dildo, letting out a low whistle when you saw the gape it left behind… and that definitely left a tingle between your thighs.

You then released the ropes and he groaned in relief… Though the need to cum got the better of him as he grabbed you and pulled you on top of him, sliding inside of you with satisfying ease as he buried his face between your tits, tears streaming down his face as he rutted his hips up into you, gripping and kneading at your skin as he let out wails of pleasure until he bucked his hips up into you one last time before stilling, letting out his loudest cry yet before he practically went limp.

“Oh god- Tim?” You called out his name after he wanted to limp against you, you had to hold him against you to prevent him from bumping his head against the bed frame because he just went ragdoll.

“Tim, are you okay? Was it too much? Are you-”

“Can we do this again in a couple days?” His voice flooded your ears, raspy, but clear as day.

And you laughed, kissing him gently as you nodded your head, and began your aftercare routine.

“Sure baby boy, in a couple days.”

Tag list:

All: @francesfarhadi @only-my-unexistent-fiances

Batfam:

BW smut: @ilaiise

DG smut: @ilaiise

JT smut: @ilaiise

TD smut:

[lawncareserviceusa]

Get The Best Yard Clean Up Companies

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[demonlorddiva]

Obey Me! Brothers Accidentally Hurting MC

this is fun and this is silly and i like it!!!! TW: mentions of blood and injuries

Thanks so much for the love on my last post!!

Lucifer

Lucifer is yelling at his brothers (typical) but they are getting the lecture of a LIFETIME

hes yelling, scolding, the whole nine yards

you come out of your room to see what the comotion is about and stand behind him

he doesnt see you, and while waving his arms he accidentally smacks you with the back of his hand

immedietly grabs your face to see if your okay

yells at the brothers to go to their room

please tell him your fine, hes so worried

will be sweet for the rest of the week

flowers,dinner, alone time whatever you want

Mammon

Hes running away from Lucifer

probably running up his debts again

turns the corner at RAD and doesnt see you

immediately runs into you and sends you to the floor

grabs you before you can smack your head

the most guilty giving you a million apologies immedietly

grabbing your head and appendages to check for blood or brusies

"Im sorry! Im sorry! are you okay? you dont have one of those concussions do ya?"

when you tell him your fine he relaxes

until he hears Lucifer yelling again

He grabs you buy the arm, yanks you up, and starts running with you

Levi

(i saw this as a headcannon somewhere like this and ill link it if i find it but this is so accurate)

You wanted to see Levi so what do you do? go to his room to see what hes doing

You knock and give the passcode, but hear no response

you hear a loud game and some aggravated sounds]

inside, Levi is tired of this boss in his game. this is the millionth time hes played this and he can't get past! hes over it.

in anger, he chucks his controler at the door... the second you walk in and check on him

the controler hits the door frame and smacks you in the face, you cover your face and taking a few steps back

bro immediately screams

scrambling to get to you

thinks you've died

yells so bad everyone hears him screaming and comes out

"ive killed my player 2! i cant go on! im the worst, you must hate me now! your gonna have brain damage and its all my fault-"

Grab him by the shoulders and tell him you'll live and your not mad at him

Satan

(saw this in multiple hc,in different ways, ill link them if i see it, gonna roll with this)

Satan is PISSED

Mammon stole one of his rare books to sell online, and hes hot on his tail

hes got one of those books in his hands, and as mammon turns a corner he chucks one it at him

right in the way of the front door, that you open immediately... getting a book to the face as your carrying groceries in

grabs you before you fall to the floor

checking you for injuries

hes read up on human biology and is immedietly worried

he apologizes so quick and so many times

when you tell him your fine he turns to mammon and he runs

he makes sure your okay before booking to mammon to whoop him

Asmo

your helping him clean out his closet

Hes on a ladder reaching for his spring clothes when he slips and falls

when your right behind him.. about to grab that box from him...

yall fumble and he falls on top of you

"oh my! Darling are you okay?"

on the floor he grabs your face and checks your face for any pain

when he sees your blush he blushes too, grabing your cheek

"oh honey, us stuck in this situation seems like fate dont you?"

Beel

You and Beel are tasked with setting up dewcorations for Diavolos newest festival

Beel is running out of streamers so you think of handing him another roll will be so helpful!

you walk up behind him on the ladder

"hey! got another roll for yo-"

Beel, started, turns around and accidentally elbows you right in the eye

you stuble back, clutching your eye

he grabs you, immediately teary eyed. thinking youll hate him, that your afraid of him

it takes you and solomon telling him over and over that your fine

puts an ice pack on your eye and holds it there

at dinner, he offers you more food

"here, have this, you need to get your strength up"

Belphegor

hes set the perfect trap

when Lucifer walks through this door he will be hit with a bucket of devildom tree sap!

what he doesnt expect was you walking through the door before him

covered in sap and clearly upset he looks at you in shock

Worst case senario: unlocked

He gets chewed out by Lucifer first

But spends the rest of the night getting the sap out of your hair while watching movies and apologizing a million times

Makes beel go and get your favorite snacks and cuddles you all night

[ruewritesoccasionally]

Welcome to the Neighbourhood | Terry Richmond

pairings: neighbour!terry richmond x neighbour!black reader

warnings: smut 18+, fluff, slow burn (if you squint), slightly rough/dom!terry - lmk if you think i missed anything else

summary: ready to put shelby springs behind him, terry ventures to start afresh - new job and new neighbourhood but the last thing he was expecting was to have an attractive neighbour waltz in and send his head spinning

word count: 5.4K

Shelby Springs had taken everything from him—his peace, his purpose, his faith in people. But Terrance Richmond wasn’t a man to let the past define him. He had to rebuild, brick by brick, until there was nothing left of the anger, pain, or memories that weighed him down. Once he’d made his peace, routine became his salvation. If there was one thing Terry wasn’t, it was idle.

Standing at 6’2, with muscles that didn’t come from sitting still, he carried himself with the discipline of a former Marine. He threw himself into rebuilding his life with the same focus, which is why the executive protection job posting felt like fate. It was an opportunity to start over. A new job, a new city—it wasn’t nature like he was used to, but he wasn’t about to say no to a clean slate.

The last of the moving boxes sat stacked on his driveway, waiting to be carried inside. As Terry hoisted one of the heavier ones, headlights flashed across his yard, catching his attention. His eyes followed the movements of a woman stepping out of a car, her keys in hand. If his hands hadn’t instinctively tightened around the box, the fine China inside would’ve been in pieces on the pavement.

Damn. She was... striking. The kind of striking that rooted a man to the spot and left his thoughts a tangled mess.

The pantsuit she wore clung to her figure in all the right ways, while soft curls framed her face like a work of art. Then she smiled, and he was done for.

She approached with a confident stride, her voice soft but laced with a teasing edge that only added to her allure. “Hey,” she said, flashing him an easy smile—the kind that could charm just about anyone. “Looks like they finally found someone to take the place. Congrats. I’m in a rush right now, but I get off work at 6. I’ll swing by to properly introduce myself—if that’s cool with you?”

Terry fumbled between a nod and a simple word of agreement, finally managing a quick, “Yeah, sounds good,” before she turned and climbed into her car.

She waved as she drove off, a soft giggle escaping her lips.

She knew she had a wicked flirt game, and today’s outfit choice was clearly the right one. As she headed to the office, an unusually good mood accompanied her. She couldn’t help but think about her new neighbour—broad shoulders, brooding eyes, and a quiet intensity that lingered even in their brief interaction.

Her curiosity burned through the day like a steady flame. Who was he? What was his story? And most importantly, would he be sticking around?

Terry tried to shake her out of his head as he tackled the last of the boxes. But it was no use. Her voice, her smile—they’d already sunk into his mind, leaving him restless and curious. 6 o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the neighbourhood, when YN pulled into her driveway, a sense of anticipation bubbling in her chest. Work had been exhausting, but the thought of properly meeting her new neighbour had been the highlight of her day. She stepped into her house, kicked off her heels, and immediately headed for the shower. The warm water was a welcome relief, washing away the day's tension and leaving her feeling refreshed.

Dressed in something comfortable yet flattering—because first impressions mattered, even if she wasn’t technically trying—YN made her way into the kitchen. Cooking was a distraction, a way to channel her nerves into something productive. She whipped up a quick but hearty meal, pairing it with some baked goods she’d had stashed away. It was a neighbourly gesture, sure, but she’d also seen him. And let’s just say that the mysterious, rugged man across the street had piqued her curiosity.

Balancing the food containers carefully in her hands, YN walked across to his house. The porch light was on, a warm glow illuminating the otherwise quiet street. She knocked twice, stepping back as she waited.

Inside, Terry had been pacing his living room for the past fifteen minutes, glancing at the clock and then the front door as if he could will someone to show up. He’d told himself it was silly, but the memory of their brief interaction that morning had stayed with him all day. She was charming, poised, and stunning, and the idea of seeing her again had stirred something in him he couldn’t quite name.

When the knock finally came, he opened the door to find her standing there, her smile lighting up the dimming evening. His expression softening into something she could only describe as relief. His eyes flicked down to the food in her hands, then back up to her face, his lips twitching as though he were fighting the urge to smile.

For a split second, neither of them spoke, just taking each other in. Then, at the same time, they both blurted out their names.

"Terrance Richmond." "YN."

The words collided, and they both paused before bursting into laughter.

"No, you go," she said, waving a hand for him to continue.

He shook his head with a small, amused smile. "No, you first. I insist."

She gave in, introducing herself again, this time with a little less fluster. “Sorry about the rush this morning. I was running late for work. I figured I’d make it up to you by bringing some dinner—just thought I’d save you the trouble of cooking or ordering in tonight.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised but not ungrateful. “That’s... really kind of you. Thank you.” He stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in.

YN wasn’t sure what she’d expected—half-packed boxes or chaos, maybe—but his house was already well put together. Everything had its place, and the space looked cosy, even lived-in.

“You’ve been busy,” she remarked, glancing around.

Terry followed her gaze, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I couldn’t keep still. Needed to get everything done.”

The motion of his hand raised the hem of his shirt just enough to reveal a sliver of his abdomen, and her breath hitched involuntarily at the sight. He was... sculpted, to say the least. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but the deep heat rising in her cheeks betrayed her.

Terry noticed—of course, he noticed. His lips quirked into a subtle smirk, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “You okay over there?” he teased, his voice dipping lower.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Totally fine,” she stammered, mentally cursing herself. Way to keep it together, YN.

“Kitchen’s this way,” he said, leading her further inside.

In the kitchen, she set the food down on the counter while Terry rummaged through a cabinet for plates and cutlery.

“Wine or whiskey?” he asked, holding up a tumbler in one hand and a wine glass in the other.

She tilted her head, eyeing him playfully. “You strike me as the rough-around-the-edges whiskey type. But I could be wrong.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “And you strike me as the sophisticated wine type. Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

She laughed softly, choosing the wine glass. “Maybe just a little bit of both,” she said, holding up her glass in a mock toast.

Dinner passed with ease, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them. She learned about his time in the Marines, his decision to move to the city, and his plans to settle into a new routine. In turn, he listened intently as she spoke about her work as a lawyer and the challenges that came with it.

“Why executive protection?” she asked, genuinely curious.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to his glass. “It seemed like the right move. I needed something to focus on, something to ground me after...I guess I wanted to keep helping people… just without all the…” He gestured vaguely, his voice trailing off.

She nodded, understanding the weight of what he wasn’t saying. “That makes sense. You’re a protector. It suits you.”

Instead, she smiled softly, changing the subject to something lighter. “Well, I think the neighbourhood gossip will be all over you in no time. New guy, good-looking, and clearly handy with a moving box? You’re prime material.”

Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “And here I thought I’d be flying under the radar.”

“Not a chance,” she teased, raising her glass.

The evening passed in a blur of laughter and easy conversation, the initial awkwardness fading into a comfortable rhythm. By the time the food was gone and the wine bottle nearly empty, she realised how late it had gotten.

“I should let you get some rest,” she said, standing and gathering her things.

Terry walked her to the door, his presence warm and steady beside her. “Thanks for coming over. And for dinner. You didn’t have to, but... it means a lot.”

She smiled, the sincerity in his voice catching her off guard. “It’s my turn to host next time,” she said, stepping out onto the porch.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.

As she walked back to her house, she felt his eyes on her, and when she reached her front door, she turned to find him still standing there, waiting. She gave him a small wave before stepping inside, and only then did he close his door.

Back in her kitchen, she leaned against the counter, her thoughts lingering on Terrance Richmond—the man who’d somehow managed to make an ordinary evening feel anything but.

It had been two months of playful banter, stolen moments, and a rhythm they’d fallen into so effortlessly it felt like second nature. Their evenings were a mix of wholesome exploration and daring escapades—her showing him the city from her unique perspective. Quiet cafés tucked into alleys, her favourite jazz bar that always felt alive no matter the hour, daring rooftop views that made her heart race as much as his lingering glances. Terry soaked it all in, learning her through the places she loved.

And then there were the nights. Nights when she’d invite him into her world, sharing wine and laughter, their knees brushing under the table, their gazes holding just a beat too long. Nights when he’d introduce her to the simplicities he cherished: an old movie, a game of cards, or just sitting on his porch with whiskey and comfortable silence. The friendship that brewed between them was comforting, but the undercurrent of something more was undeniable.

He didn’t mind bending the rules, like ignoring speed limits to race home just to catch her as she pulled into her driveway. There was something magnetic about the sight of her at the end of a long day. The way she’d stride out of her car, hair loosened from its bun, buttons of her blouse slightly undone, her lips still stained with that red lipstick that drove him wild. It was like she carried the day’s fire with her, igniting something in him without even trying. He’d lean against his porch, offering her a nightcap with that low, smooth voice of his, and she’d grin, the tension of her day easing away.

She had never been more grateful that Terry’s job required him to wear a suit. Seeing him waiting for her in all his tall, broad-shouldered glory, tie loosened, dark stormy eyes carrying a story from the day, was a sight she never grew tired of. Her eyes would linger, tracing the outline of his strong frame and sharp jawline. Even the way he held himself—calm, composed—was intoxicating. Their usual routine of “Hey, stranger. Fancy seeing you here,” never got old, but there was something different about today.

She parked her car with noticeably less energy, the weight of her day evident in the slight slump of her shoulders. Terry caught it immediately. He leaned against his porch, the usual playful smirk tugging at his lips, but it faded when she approached.

“Hey, stranger,” he said softly, his voice warm but cautious.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she replied, but her tone lacked its usual spark. Her eyes flickered to his, and though her lips curved into a faint smile, it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You okay?” he asked, taking a step closer.

She exhaled, shaking her head lightly. “Rough day. I don’t think I’m up for anything tonight.”

He nodded, though disappointment briefly flickered across his features. “I get it. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Thanks, Terry,” she said, her voice soft as she turned toward her door.

He watched her retreat into her house, resisting the urge to follow. Respecting her space was the right thing to do, but it didn’t stop the lingering ache in his chest. Something felt off, and it wasn’t just her mood—it was the absence of her presence.

Back in his house, Terry tried to distract himself. He pushed through an intense workout in his home gym, the rhythm of his heart pounding in his ears as he lifted, punched, and ran his frustration away. But no amount of sweat could shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Showered and changed into a snug grey T-shirt and sweatpants, he found himself pacing his living room. The hours stretched, and the silence grew unbearable. It was stupid—he felt like barely knew her but they had spent so much time together that being apart for the one night felt wrong, and the thought of her being upset made him restless. Finally, he grabbed a bottle of wine and decided to check on her. If nothing else, she deserved someone to talk to.

Terry knocked twice, the bottle balanced in his hand. The sound of footsteps reached him, and when the door swung open, he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

She stood there, framed by the warm glow of her house, wrapped in a silk negligee the colour of deep mauve. The fabric flowed from her shoulders, clinging to her curves in a way that made his breath hitch. It accentuated the fullness of her breasts, the gentle dip of her waist, and the teasing slit that revealed her smooth, toned thigh. Her dark skin shimmered against the luxurious fabric, and her loose hair framed her face like a crown.

He stared, momentarily dumbfounded. “I, uh...” His usual composure failed him.

Her lips twitched, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through the tiredness in her eyes. “Terry,” she said softly, “are you okay?”

He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze to meet hers. “I just... I wanted to check on you. You seemed off earlier.”

Her expression softened, her fingers brushing against the doorframe. “I’m okay. Just needed some time to breathe.”

He held up the bottle. “I figured you might still need that nightcap. But if this is a bad time—”

She stepped aside, a small but genuine smile tugging at her lips. “It’s not.”

He walked in, acutely aware of how close their bodies brushed as he passed her. The faint scent of her perfume—warm, sensual, with a hint of spice—wrapped around him, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

As she closed the door, she turned to face him, her head tilted slightly. “Thanks for checking on me. Most people wouldn’t bother.”

He set the bottle on the counter, turning to face her with a small shrug. “I’m not most people.”

Her smile widened, the tension of her day beginning to unravel. “No, you’re not.”

And there it was again—that spark, that unspoken pull between them. The air felt heavier, charged with something they both knew they couldn’t ignore much longer.

The room was cloaked in a heady tension that neither of them could escape. She leaned against the counter, her fingers brushing absentmindedly against the cool marble surface as she watched him pour the wine. His tall, commanding frame moved with an easy grace that was almost hypnotic, the tight grey T-shirt clinging to his broad chest and shoulders, highlighting every muscle. His stormy blue-grey eyes caught the light for a fleeting second as he glanced up, and they seemed to darken when they met hers.

"Rough day, huh?" His voice was deep, smooth, and rich, yet there was an edge to it, like he was holding something back.

"Yeah," she murmured, her gaze lingering on the way his big hands gripped the bottle. Those hands. She tried to focus on what he was saying, but her mind betrayed her, wandering to how they might feel against her skin, firm yet gentle, exploring every inch of her.

"You don’t talk about work much," he said, leaning casually against the opposite counter, though there was nothing casual about the way his eyes roamed her figure. His gaze lingered on the curve of her waist, the silk of her negligee clinging to her full breasts and cascading down to her thick thighs. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, but his focus never wavered.

"Work’s work," she replied, her voice quieter than she intended. The usual playfulness in her tone was replaced with something softer, more vulnerable. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, but she wasn’t sure if it was from his smouldering gaze or the thoughts racing through her mind.

"That’s fair," he said, his lips curling into a faint smirk, though his voice had dropped an octave. He took a sip of his wine, his sharp jaw flexing slightly as he tilted his head back. She could barely breathe.

The air between them felt thick, electric. Every glance, every subtle movement was charged with an intensity that neither of them could ignore. She wanted to say something, anything, but her eyes kept drifting to his lips, full and smooth, and how easily they curved into that devastatingly charming smile. She wondered what they’d feel like against hers, how they’d taste.

"You seem... distracted," he teased, his voice low and husky.

She huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Says the man who hasn’t stopped staring."

"You’re hard not to stare at," he admitted, his tone serious now.

Her heart skipped a beat, and her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand. "You’re not so bad yourself," she said, her voice steady despite the wild thrum in her chest.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was suffocating in the best way. The kind of silence that demanded action, that begged for release.

And then it happened.

He set his glass down with a soft clink and took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. "You don’t know what you do to me," he murmured, his voice rough, raw with restraint. "Seeing you every morning, looking so damn fine, so put together... And then at night, when you come to mine, when you let your guard down and laugh like the world hasn’t put you through hell that day... I’m here, losing my mind over you, woman."

Her breath hitched, her wide eyes searching his stormy gaze. His words were like gasoline to the fire already burning inside her. "Terry..." she started, but the words caught in her throat.

"No," he cut her off gently, his big hands cupping her face, his thumbs brushing along her jaw. "Let me say this. From the first day I saw you, I knew you were gonna ruin me. And you have. I can’t think straight when you’re around, and when you’re not..." He trailed off, his gaze dropping to her lips.

She felt her chest tighten, her own thoughts spinning out of control. "I’ve liked you since day one," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

His lips quirked into a soft, almost disbelieving smile. "Yeah?"

She nodded, her cheeks warm. "Yeah."

That was all he needed to hear.

His lips crashed against hers, and everything else melted away. His hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer until her soft curves were pressed firmly against his muscular frame. She moaned softly into the kiss, her hands exploring the expanse of his chest, feeling the hard planes beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Terry," she gasped as his lips trailed to her neck, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

"You’re perfect," he murmured against her skin, his hands roaming over her thick thighs, her generous hips, memorising every part of her. "So damn perfect."

Her fingers tangled in his short, dark hair as he lifted her effortlessly onto the counter, his lips returning to hers with a fervour that left her breathless. The silk of her negligee rode up, baring more of her dark, supple skin to his touch.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he rasped, his stormy eyes locking with hers as his hand slid up her thigh.

"Show me," she whispered, her voice dripping with desire.

And he did. The tension that had been building for months finally erupted, their movements urgent yet unhurried, savouring every touch, every kiss, every moment. It was the turning page they’d both been waiting for, the start of something they both knew would change everything.

The moment between them burned hotter as they moved upstairs, their lips locked in a fiery kiss that only deepened with each step. Breathless moans filled the spaces where their mouths parted, the sound mingling with the faint creak of the stairs. Terry’s strong arms tightened around her, lifting her effortlessly. Her thighs instinctively clasped around his waist, holding on to him as if her life depended on it. Her fingers found their way under his t-shirt, her fingertips brushing against the hard ridges of his back muscles, revelling in the sheer strength he carried so easily.

His grip on her waist was firm, his large hands branding her as his own, sending a thrilling pulse through her body that promised to linger long after tonight. His touch roamed with purpose, tracing the swell of her thighs and the curve of her hips. When his palm landed on her ass with a sharp slap, followed by a teasing squeeze, she gasped into his mouth, her body arching into him. Terry let out a deep, gravelly chuckle, the sound dripping with satisfaction, as if her every reaction was fuel to the fire raging within him.

With his lips trailing down her jaw, then returning to claim her mouth, he blindly led them toward her bedroom. His back pressed against the door as he maneuvered it open, never breaking their heated connection. Once inside, Terry seated himself at the edge of her bed, pulling her closer onto his lap. She straddled him, her negligee riding higher, teasing them both. Her nails running over his short, dark hair, dragging them just enough to make him groan deeply, the sound vibrating between them. His large hands explored her curves freely now, roaming the softness of her body like a man starved.

As their lips crashed together again, Terry’s control snapped. With an effortless move, he flipped her onto her back, his strength leaving her breathless. The sudden shift made her gasp, her hair splaying out across the sheets as she looked up at him. His body hovered above hers, broad and muscular, his chest rising and falling as he stared down at her. The look on his face—raw, unfiltered desire—sent a thrill through her core. His eyes darkened with lust, his brows knit together in a mixture of longing and determination.

“Terry...” she whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of the moment, her body humming with anticipation.

He lowered himself, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her collarbone before moving to her ear. His voice, deep and husky, made her shiver. “You don’t know what you do to me, YN,” he repeated. “Not being able to touch you like this.”

Her breath hitched, his confession sending waves of heat coursing through her body. Her hands gripped his biceps, feeling the tension coiled in him, the restraint he had fought for so long finally slipping. "Terry," she whispered again, her voice soft yet laced with her own need.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he rasped, his gaze trailing over her. “Every damn curve... your thighs, your hips... these gorgeous lips I can’t stop thinking about. You’re driving me insane, YN.”

She grew needier, her dark skin glowing under the low light of the room. Her hands roamed across his back, her nails lightly grazing his skin as she pulled him closer, their bodies pressed together. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word sent sparks flying between them, a tangible current neither could resist.

“Show what you’ve been wanting to do to me”, she breathlessly said.

That was all the permission Terry needed, he lowered his body down hers stopping at her thighs and slowly pusher lingerie up body signalling for her to raise arms so he could undress her. Eyes taking in every detail and she almost shied under his lustful gaze, but he quietened thoughts as he dipped his head down and his mouth parted to envelope the nipple that called for his attention. He bit, licked, sucked and swirled, teasing that bud and showing the other one the same love – “this is what you were hiding me, angel?” His voice, so many decibels lower she almost didn’t recognise it.

“Out of words already, baby? Don’t worry, I’ve got something that’ll bring that voice back”

YN watched as his hands travelled and worked down her body, lighting a trail of fire in their wake. They moved with such expertise, like he had time to study what made her wet – either that or she was just entirely ready for him. Her panties did nothing to disguise her puffy lips or the slickness that dampened the front, she would’ve been embarrassed if she wasn’t so turned on but this was a long time coming.

Terry's lips worked their way down her body, slow and purposeful, leaving a searing trail of anticipation in their wake. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he spread her legs wider, his firm grip sending shivers through her. His stormy eyes flicked up to meet hers, a silent yet urgent question. She responded by gripping the back of his head, guiding him exactly where she needed him most.

He hungrily obeyed, his tongue moving with an aggressive precision that mirrored her unspoken desire. Every stroke was deliberate, every flick of his tongue a testament to his singular focus on her pleasure. His large hands slid up her thighs, his grip firm and grounding as her body trembled beneath him.

Her nails grazed the smooth skin at the back of his head, her soft cries urging him on, and he fed on every sound she made like it was a reward. The way she arched into him, her breathless gasps and whispered curses, only drove him further. He was relentless, addicted to the way she tasted, the way her body writhed under his control.

“Terry…” she moaned, her voice breaking as he increased the pressure, his tongue and lips working in perfect rhythm. He felt her thighs quake against his shoulders, her body teetering on the edge.

“Come on, YN,” he murmured against her, the vibration of his voice sending her spiraling. “I want to feel it. Let go for me.”

With a cry that echoed through the room, she shattered, her release coursing through her like a wave. Terry didn’t stop, prolonging her pleasure, tasting every part of her as though he couldn’t get enough. And as he finally pulled back, his lips glistening, he looked up at her with a dark, satisfied smirk.

Terry’s gaze was locked on her, dark and burning with intensity. She was already bare before him, her body glowing in the low light, every curve and line drawing him in like a man possessed. He knelt on the bed, his knees framing hers, and his hand traced the side of her thigh, firm and deliberate.

“I don’t know how I kept control this whole time,” he muttered, his voice laced with restrained desire. Grabbing her wrist, he guided her hand to the thick length straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched as her fingers instinctively wrapped around him. His jaw clenched at the contact, a low groan slipping from his lips.

“I’m ready to put this where it belongs,” he growled, his voice rough, primal. He stood, his movements deliberate as he tugged off his sweatpants and boxers in one swift motion. When he stood before her, completely bare, her mouth went dry, her pulse racing. His body was a perfect balance of strength and masculinity—toned, powerful, and overwhelming in every sense of the word.

She couldn’t stop the breathless moan of his name. “Terry…” she whimpered, her voice a mix of pleading and desperation.

She reached for him, her nails grazing over the hard ridges of his abs, earning a sharp hiss as he captured her wrist again. His other hand gripped her hip, pulling her toward him as he rolled his body against hers, letting her feel every inch of his arousal pressing into her. She gasped, the friction igniting something primal in her.

“Are you ready to take all of me?” his voice sending shivers down her spine.

Before she could respond, he flipped her onto her stomach with ease, his hands tugging her hips back toward him. A surprised gasp escaped her, quickly replaced by a low moan as his lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, his teeth grazing her skin. One hand pressed into the small of her back, pinning her in place, while the other slid up her thigh, rough and demanding.

She lifted her head slightly, her eyes catching the mirror across the room. The sight of their bodies intertwining—the dominance in his stance, the way her body responded to his every touch—made her breath hitch. Her body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the heat and tension building between them.

But just as his fingers trailed higher, grazing her most sensitive spot, he stilled. His lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and his tone softened, though the intensity remained.

“Tell me you want this,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “I need to hear it, YN.”

Her body writhed beneath him, every nerve alight with need. “I want this… and you. I need it, T. Please,” she pleaded, her voice desperate, her core weeping and throbbing for him.

That was all he needed. In one smooth, deliberate motion, he thrust into her, filling her completely. She cried out, her fingers clutching the sheets as her body adjusted to the overwhelming sensation. He didn’t give her a moment to recover, his movements relentless and precise, each thrust stealing the breath from her lungs.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. “Taking me so perfectly. You were made for me, weren’t you?”

Her head lolled to the side, her cries and moans echoing in the room. She could barely form a coherent response, her mind clouded with nothing but him. Instead, she let her body speak for her, meeting his movements with equal fervour, the sound of their bodies colliding only heightening the intensity.

As her body tightened around him, the pressure building to an unbearable peak, he slowed. His hand slid around to cup her face, turning her head so he could kiss her. It wasn’t rough like before—it was slow, deep, and tender, a kiss that felt like a promise. Her body trembled, her moan muffled against his lips as her release overtook her, crashing over her in waves.

He followed soon after, a guttural groan escaping him as he buried himself deeper, his grip on her waist tightening. For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of their laboured breaths and the faint rustle of the sheets.

Finally, he collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms. His lips pressed against her forehead, the tenderness in the gesture a stark contrast to the passion they’d just shared.

“You okay?” he asked softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face.

She nodded, her cheek pressed against his chest as her breathing slowly steadied. “More than okay,” she murmured, a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Good,” he said, his voice low but warm. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

The promise lingered in the air, and she couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree as she nestled closer to him, feeling completely and utterly content.

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

and take a shot for every time i mentioned 'stormy' or 'eyes' loooool

[vervepain]

Supercorp head canon: regarding the schooling of children. And the paradox of being Lena Luthor.

You would think Lena would be the business/paperwork/doctor visits mom…because vibes? But no. Kara frankly has a better aptitude for not threatening to nuke someone’s garage because they wouldn’t let her kid skip a grade (Lena would point out it was one time, and in her defense Lori ended up skipping two grades.)

No, Lena Luthor, as far as other parents at National City Co-Op and Preparatory Community School for Exceptional Young Minds is concerned, Lena is the…fun mom. Not that most of them even realize that woman who runs the monthly playground clean up is Lena Luthor. Because yes her name is Lena. But she’s always wearing an oversized NCU crew neck and faded jeans. And then does yard work, like shoveling manure yard work for three hours on a Saturday.

They gossip sure. They know Lena Luthor apparently has a kid these days but it’s super hush hush. And like? Lena…isn’t her last name Danvers? Lori’s paperwork says Danvers. Someone actually bribed the school secretary to check.

(Side note: AU, imagine this is a future fic from around season three. So Kara is a little less high profile, and Lena remains boss bitch ceo of LCorp.)

You can’t convince anyone that’s Lori’s mom Lena is Lena Luthor. Lori’s mom chaperoned the field trip to the basketball stadium last month, and everyone knows Lena Luthor owns the Lakehawks, but Lena the mom knew nothing about basketball. Which was embarrassing for her in a way, since her daughter must be a super fan; she was decked out in head to toe custom Lakehawks gear. But again it all said “Danvers.”

At one point Lori sprinted out onto the court to play. Everyone actually expected security to do something, but the gaurds were very chill. Just, like, waved to Lori and her mom. Which is lucky. They could have kicked the whole class out.

The main reason everyone knows Lena is not Lena Luthor? The time a supervillain threatened the school during pick up—Lena was there ushering Lori into a Range Rover—whatever Lori’s mom does, it does pay well—when Supergirl appeared. An explosion occurred, and what did Supergirl do? For some reason? She shielded Lena. There were other people around, though it did kind of seem like they had been aiming for the Range Rover…weirdly. And Supergirl was right there, protecting Lena Danvers: average citizen. Not special. With that red cape, and a fury in her eyes no one had seen since, like, that Alien invasion last spring.

Supergirl then carries the Range Rover away. Weird enough. But immediately she flew back and carried Lena! Like bridal, but her hands…were kind of weirdly…on Lori’s mom’s ass?

EVERYONE KNOWS SUPERS HATE LUTHORS AND VICE VERSA.

But there was Supergirl, holding Lori’s awkward, good-at-gardening mom flying her to safety like it was the most important moment of her life.

And after, when everyone asked Lena for details. Like…does she actually feel like steel? Or is her hair soft or like metal spaghetti? Lori’s mom was all silent and blushing. Does she think she could actually bag Supergirl? Is she thinking of cheating? People have seen Lori’s other mom, she’s not bad looking. Tall, blonde, very fit. Kind of if the concepts of truth, justice, and like the america way were an aesthetic? Oh and always has such a cute ponytail.

But I mean, she isn’t Supergirl.

Recently at girls night someone did bring up one hilarious complication to this conclusion: has anyone ever seen Lori’s mom Lena and Lena Luthor in the same room? Everyone laughed. No. But why would Lena Luthor ever hang around people like them?

[anotherworld08]

☆Not So Secret☆

The Burrow was louder than usual, and that was saying a lot.

Spring had finally nudged winter out of the way, and the Weasley house was overflowing with life: windows flung open to let in sun and air, garden gnomes yelping as they were tossed over the fence, and Molly Weasley humming as she chopped vegetables for dinner.

Fred, however, was sweating bullets.

He wasn’t supposed to be here today. Or rather, she wasn’t. Y/N Malfoy — a name that had no business blending into a place like the Burrow — had dropped by under the most casual, innocent excuse: returning a charmed pocket-watch he’d left behind after their last Hogsmeade trip. She’d planned to apparate in, hand it off, and be gone before anyone even noticed.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

The plan started unraveling the moment she arrived. Fred had barely stepped out into the yard to meet her when the unmistakable pop of Apparition echoed from behind the house — and in true Weasley fashion, George rounded the corner almost immediately.

Fred barely had time to stuff the watch into his pocket when George’s voice rang out.

“Oi, Mum says get your lazy arse in for dinner —”

He froze mid-sentence, his eyes landing on Y/N. She stood perfectly still, looking only slightly less panicked than Fred, like a cat caught in a beam of lumos.

George blinked.

Y/N, to her credit, recovered first. She raised a single brow, cool as ever. “Evening.”

George looked between them, his mouth twitching slightly as he took in the scene: Fred looking like a kid caught stealing biscuits, and Y/N Malfoy standing in the Burrow’s backyard like she belonged there.

“Evening,” George echoed, tone dangerously casual. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Y/N tilted her head, giving the faintest hint of a smile. “Returning something Fred left behind. Thought I’d spare the owl the trip.”

George let the silence stretch for a beat too long. His sharp brown eyes flicked from her to Fred and back, piecing things together with uncomfortable ease.

“Well,” he said at last, “I hope whatever it was is worth all the trouble.”

Before Fred could muster even a half-baked excuse, Molly’s voice rang out from the kitchen window.

“Fred, who was that at the door?”

Fred cringed. Y/N, knowing the jig was up, lifted a hand in silent farewell and Disapparated with a soft crack, leaving behind only the faint scent of lavender and the sound of Fred’s stomach sinking to his shoes.

“Friend from school!” Fred called back, a little too loudly, turning to find George still staring at him.

George folded his arms. “Friend, huh?”

Fred sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, look. I was going to tell you. I just… didn’t.”

George snorted. “You think I’m daft? The way you looked at her just now, mate — Merlin’s beard, you might as well have been carrying a banner that said ‘I fancy her.’”

Fred groaned. “George—”

But George just clapped a hand on his shoulder, and his voice, when it came, was surprisingly gentle.

“Malfoy, though? Bloody hell. You don’t half make things interesting.”

Before Fred could respond, the kitchen door banged open. Ginny poked her head out, squinting into the evening light.

“Who was that? Thought I saw someone standing with you.”

Fred froze. George, bless his soul, didn’t miss a beat.

“Just some owl delivery. Wrong house.”

Ginny frowned, clearly suspicious but not invested enough to argue. She disappeared back inside.

George turned back to Fred with a smirk. “You’re lucky I’m good under pressure.”

Fred let out a laugh, more nervous than amused. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than one, mate,” George said, tapping his temple. “But you’d better tell the rest of the family before someone else catches her here. You know Mum’s got eyes like a hawk.”

Fred never got the chance to come clean on his own terms.

Two days later, it happened. Spectacularly.

It was a Sunday. Sundays at the Burrow meant two things: laundry flapping on the line, and the entire house crammed around the table for Molly’s roast dinner. Fred had managed to go about the day with relative calm, though the memory of Y/N’s visit still sat sharp in his mind.

After the plates were cleared, Arthur decided to fiddle with his latest Muggle gadget: an old two-way mirror he’d enchanted to work like a Muggle “video phone.” Everyone took turns poking at it, half-bored, until George, grinning devilishly, swiped it from Percy’s hands.

“Let’s see if this thing can make prank calls,” he joked, tapping the side of the mirror as if dialing.

But the mirror, apparently still linked to its last user, flickered to life on its own.

Fred froze the moment the glass brightened. There, clear as day, was Y/N — sitting comfortably in her room, brushing her hair. The golden “M” crest on the bedpost behind her was unmistakable.

The room went silent.

She hadn’t noticed the connection yet, humming softly to herself, until Arthur, squinting, leaned in.

“Isn’t that—?”

Y/N glanced at the mirror, blinked, and then her face went from curious to horrified in half a heartbeat.

“Fred,” she said flatly.

Fred buried his face in his hands.

Y/N, ever the composed Slytherin, straightened her posture and gave the mirror an unflinching, if slightly resigned, smile. “Well. I suppose the secret’s out.”

There was a long, long pause.

Molly was the first to speak, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re dating a Malfoy.”

It wasn’t a question.

Fred looked up sheepishly, ears burning. “Yeah. I am.”

For a moment, no one moved. Then, slowly, George leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head, whistling low under his breath.

“I knew it,” he muttered, more proud than surprised.

Ron’s mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish, Hermione beside him looked vaguely scandalized, and Ginny wore an expression that landed somewhere between “disappointed sister” and “impressed troublemaker.”

Arthur, bless him, only adjusted his glasses and gave Fred a measured look. “She seems polite.”

Molly, on the other hand, looked like she needed to sit down, which she did, rather heavily.

“Of all the girls in Britain, Fred,” she said, shaking her head, though her voice was more baffled than angry. “A Malfoy?”

Fred rubbed the back of his neck, shifting in his chair like it was covered in spikes. “She’s not like them, Mum. I swear. She’s smart, and funny, and — I don’t know. She’s different.”

Y/N, still visible in the mirror, raised a brow at the understatement but said nothing, waiting.

Arthur cleared his throat, glancing between his wife and the mirror. “Well, dear, it seems Fred’s already made up his mind. And if the girl’s willing to put up with this lot, she must have some patience.”

Molly looked at her son, then at the girl in the mirror. Mauve held her gaze, calm and unapologetic. Finally, Molly exhaled a long, slow breath.

“I suppose I’ll have to meet you properly then, won’t I?”

Y/N smiled, sharp but sincere. “I’d like that, Mrs. Weasley.”

When the mirror blinked dark again, the room buzzed back to life, half the family talking over each other, and Fred sat there, still stunned but oddly lighter.

Later that night, Fred found George leaning against the back garden fence, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“You’re braver than I gave you credit for,” George said without turning around. “Not for dating her — for hiding it from Mum.”

Fred chuckled, joining him, the night cool and soft around them. “You’re not angry?”

George shook his head. “Nah. I figured it out the second I saw you two in the yard. Malfoy or not, I haven’t seen you this stupidly happy in years.”

Fred smiled, the tension finally bleeding out of his shoulders. “It’s serious, you know.”

“I know,” George said simply. “And I’m glad.”

The two of them stood there a while longer, watching the stars blink awake in the darkening sky.

And for the first time in weeks, Fred knew — really knew — that everything was going to be alright.

[babyy-blossom]

𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐬/𝐨

Masterlist

✿ The Meeting

✿it all started when a group of bad guys he was fighting pushed him into the fire escape by your apartment window that was housing some of your plants.

✿ Your terracotta pots were in shambles and some of the stems were broken. (If they were small fruit trees or vegetable plants, some produce would be bruised or completely squashed:))

✿ Hearing the commotion from outside jolted you awake from your dream. But by the time you got to your window and separated your curtains the thing or person that had crashed into your window was gone. But from the apartment roof you still heard ruckus, or better yet what sounded like men beating the marbles out of each other.

✿ You went back to bed after deciding against going up onto the roof and pulling yourself into that mess.

✿ I’ll deal with it in the morning, you grumbled.

✿ After beating (and shooting, don’t worry… it’s just a flesh wound) the group of men and leaving them tied up somewhere, Jason finally got a moment to look at why his suit was so dirty, especially his cargo pants.

✿ It was soil. But where had he fallen into that? His mind then snapped to the flower pots he had been pushed into earlier that night. After going back towards your apartment complex he managed to find the fire escape with that shattered planters or snapped steams.

✿ That evening you went to the local store to try and find more sturdy planters and more seeds. But when you got to the store a tall, very muscular man was hauling out what was left of the bigger sturdy plastic planters (the size you usually bought).

✿ Your eyes met him when he caught you staring at the pots in his hands. He had white bangs and black hair. His posture was one of calmness or at least was put together for the moment.

✿ When his green eyes met yours you looked away and walked quickly away from him with embarrassment.

✿ you didn’t know, but he watched as you tried walking away nonchalantly (and failing)

✿ Instead you just picked up some bags of soil and a new watering can too

✿ It was nearly dark when you got done cleaning the broken planters, pruning the snapped steams, adding soil to the tipped pots, and watering all your flowers.

✿ while you were in shower washing the dirt off your face and hands, a noise was heard from your window. The fire escape rattled alerting you that someone had been there.

✿ Gotham was not a safe city, so perhaps waiting a bit before charging in would be a good idea. Maybe it was just a cat and not robbers.

✿ You finally gained the courage to escape from the bathroom and to your living room area

✿ On the balcony was seed packets and the exact pots you had saw the man walk out with.

✿ would help you water plants or remind when they need it.

✿ Dating

✿ would have dreams of getting you a small house with a nicely sized yard for planting and a beautiful greenhouse

✿ Jason loves the food you cook with the produce of your garden

✿ You like to give some vegetables to Alfred when you can spare a few. He always uses them to make the best dishes for Bruce.

✿ Jason carries the bags of soil for you around the store.

✿ Whenever it’s winter in Gotham Jay hates to see you upset and mopey because you can’t tend to a whole garden

✿ Jay likes your apartment better than his because yours is so comforting, peaceful, and serene, like stepping into a forest on a warm spring day

✿ Plus with all your plants he likes to say “the air just smells purer here.”

✿ in the spring however, he says it’s a nightmare to be in your apartment

✿ Waters your plants for you if he notices one is thirsty

✿ Has thrown a potted plant from your balcony at a criminal (dick greyson)

✿ He got scolded but he said it was “worth it.”

[swampstew-stories]

You Picked Dare

Summary: Why the hell would you play truth or dare with a bunch of pirates?

Inspired by the mega awesome @magnuspirate who did this delighful tease of two hunky hunks hunking around

Warnings: nsfw but mostly language and suggestive content, no actual smut, Kid Pirates being the Kid Pirates. Killer x Female reader x Kid

Dare.

Dare. 

Dare.

Your bold statement had come out smug and confident, echoing in your head with a twinge of regret.

The Dare was to go into the hot springs and take a photo – of Killer and your Captain. Damn the others for knowing your kryptonite.

There was an opt-out option – to clean the communal bathrooms for a month. No fucking way.

As you walked through the island you took nervous hits of your blunt to ease the butterflies in your stomach. All you had to do was take a picture. There were no restrictions, you could be seen or hidden, as long as you got a photo of them that was all you needed to escape this torturous dare disguised as a group bonding activity.

Fuck the crew! You loved them but also fuck them. You were gonna get them back.

About a hundred yards away from the hot spring you took a final drag and snuffed out the remaining blunt. Giving yourself an internal pep talk as you took each step.

‘Position self behind a bush. Snap a picture. Sneak away and then run like the devil’s on my heels.’

Picturing your devil of a captain, your stomach coiled with anxiousness. Oh how you wished you could light up the roach.

Creeping between the foliage, you could hear Kid and Killer talking to each other in relaxed conversation. They didn’t appear to notice you, silently cursing as you realized they were still too far to take a photo.

Tip toeing on the patches of grass, you could make out their conversation more clearly.

“Ya ever think about sleeping with someone on the crew?” Kid suddenly asked Killer. You nearly fell over yourself when you heard the statement.

“Once in a while, rarely act on it though. You?” Killer mused.

“All the time.”

“Horn dog,” Killer scoffed.

“Can ya blame me? All our girls are hot as fuck.”

“Yeah, but I also see most of them as sisters…”

“You’re so pure,” Kid laughed. “Yeah they’re family, but they’re also not. I’m not saying I’d do anything about it either but it’s tempting some times.”

You felt as if you weren’t breathing, skillfully crawling around the shrubs eager to hear and see more, as silent as the dead. One breath and they were sure to discover you.

“Ahh is this about Y/N again?”

Time stopped. Your heart stopped. You didn’t dare move.

“Could be,” there was a tilt in Kid’s voice. “Don’t pretend you don’t think about her and what it could be like.”

“You’re being vulgar, which isn’t surprising, but what do you expect me to say? ‘Sure Kid I’ll bow out from another person of interest to give you the advantage as your friend.’” Killer legitimately sounded a little mad. Well like, personal hurt mad, not crazy mad which he was every single second.

“I’m a man with needs too. And I LIKE her.”

You wished to be a small lizard so you could watch them argue about you. Maybe the blunt was laced with something – wouldn’t put it past your crew to be honest.

Low growling preceded a laugh, and you could hear the sound of water splashing. Oh to the gods to be a fish in that spring.

“Alright fair enough. Would it make you feel better if we do it together? It’d be her choice who she’d choose no matter what, no hurt fee fees over it. Maybe if we come at her with a multi-partner thing, 50/50 she agrees?”

“Kid!”

“60/40?”

“Stop it.”

“Damn 10/90?”

More splashing of water, waves of it crashing over your coverage and wetting your clothes. Practicing your breathing exercises, you mentally pumped yourself up to get it over with. One snap and bam, you’re gone.

“What if we show her our dicks first?”

“KID!”

“Whadd’ya say Y/N? Wanna check the goods before you sample them?” Kid couldn’t hold back his laughter.

Gods be damned. They all sucked.

Gathering the last ounce of dignity and lighting your roach, you jumped out from behind the foliage with your camera, looking to the side as you snapped the picture. Whether is was worthy enough to pass was no longer your priority.

“IT WAS A DARE!!!!” you screeched as your turned on your heel and bolted. You poor thing, you didn’t make it past 1 yard.

“Oh you’re not going anywhere, Y/N,” Kid taunted as Killer wrapped his arms around you and picked you up. His towel becoming loose and distressed from your struggling. Bringing you back to the hot spring.

Taking the camera, Kid tossed it in the water with the smuggest face a motherfucker could make.

“We showed you ours, now we dare you to show yours.”

Originally posted - soon to be archived from main

[cavalierfou]

SPRING CLEANING give away ;

I've just finished cleaning up some files I've kept on my computer for ages and I'm sharing some of the stuff I found there, you might consider this a yard sale (except it's free, lol). Some of these are old but hopefully you can still find some use in them. ♡

This pack comprises gif colorings, misc colorings and a few templates. You might recognize those gif colorings as some of the ones I've used several times in the past while making gifsets on my main blog.

You do not need to credit me while using any of the resources in this pack.

DOWNLOAD: Deviantart or Patreon.

[adventuresofalgy]

Algy had never seen a bicycle before, so he was naturally intrigued when his assistant obtained one and started cycling around the local landscape.

A fluffy bird, of course, does not need a machine to get from one place to another, so when his assistant next set out on her bike, Algy flew along above her, to keep an eye, and to try to observe how the strange contraption worked.

Algy had had no intention of being involved with any kind of machine, but when his assistant paused at a passing place on the road, in order to take some photos, he found that in fact he was consumed with a longing to try it for himself, and so he asked whether he could please try riding the bicycle, believing, like Mulga Bill, that he would "ride this here two-wheeled concern right straight away at sight". Posing proudly for the obligatory "first time on a bicycle" photograph, Algy then commenced to set off along the road…

But, just like Mulga Bill, he found that when:

He turned the cycle down the hill and mounted for the fray, But ere he'd gone a dozen yards it bolted clean away. It left the track, and through the trees, just like a silver streak, It whistled down the awful slope towards the Dead Man's Creek.

However, Mulga Bill was of course not a fluffy bird, and there Algy had the advantage, because when the bike ran away with him he simply leaped into the air and flew back to his assistant to apologise.

Retrieving the bike from the bushes, she recited the whole poem for Algy's benefit, and advised him to stick to flying in the future 😀

'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze; He turned away the good old horse that served him many days; He dressed himself in cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen; He hurried off to town and bought a shining new machine; And as he wheeled it through the door, with air of lordly pride, The grinning shop assistant said, "Excuse me, can you ride?" "See here, young man," said Mulga Bill, "from Walgett to the sea, From Conroy's Gap to Castlereagh, there's none can ride like me. I'm good all round at everything, as everybody knows, Although I'm not the one to talk - I hate a man that blows. But riding is my special gift, my chiefest, sole delight; Just ask a wild duck can it swim, a wildcat can it fight. There's nothing clothed in hair or hide, or built of flesh or steel, There's nothing walks or jumps, or runs, on axle, hoof, or wheel, But what I'll sit, while hide will hold and girths and straps are tight: I'll ride this here two-wheeled concern right straight away at sight." 'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that sought his own abode, That perched above the Dead Man's Creek, beside the mountain road. He turned the cycle down the hill and mounted for the fray, But ere he'd gone a dozen yards it bolted clean away. It left the track, and through the trees, just like a silver streak, It whistled down the awful slope towards the Dead Man's Creek. It shaved a stump by half an inch, it dodged a big white-box: The very wallaroos in fright went scrambling up the rocks, The wombats hiding in their caves dug deeper underground, As Mulga Bill, as white as chalk, sat tight to every bound. It struck a stone and gave a spring that cleared a fallen tree, It raced beside a precipice as close as close could be; And then as Mulga Bill let out one last despairing shriek It made a leap of twenty feet into the Dead Man's Creek. 'Twas Mulga Bill from Eaglehawk, that slowly swam ashore: He said, "I've had some narrer shaves and lively rides before; I've rode a wild bull round a yard to win a five-pound bet, But this was the most awful ride that I've encountered yet. I'll give that two-wheeled outlaw best; It's shaken all my nerve To feel it whistle through the air and plunge and buck and swerve. It's safe at rest in Dead Man's Creek, we'll leave it lying still; A horse's back is good enough henceforth for Mulga Bill."

[Algy's assistant is reciting the poem Mulga Bill's Bicycle by the late 19th/early 20th century Australian bush poet Andrew Barton "Banjo" Paterson.]

If you would like to see more photos (without Algy) from Algy's assistant's cycling adventures, please visit her sideblog @photocyclelog

[leisure-lawn]

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