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uzumaki-rebellion · 17 days ago

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A Daughter's Plan

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Female OC

Warning(s): Pure Fluff. Single Dad. Girl Dad energy. Terry's POV. Low angst.

Summary: Terry Richmond is a lonely single dad caring for his ten-year-old daughter, Pilar. When Pilar's mother re-marries and moves overseas to start a new job and family, the pre-teen thinks her dad needs to find someone for himself, too. Unbeknownst to Terry, his clever daughter has her sights set on the new neighbor, Allegra, who might be the perfect match.

Word count: 7,481

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"Isn't she pretty

Truly the angel's best

Boy, I'm so happy

We have been heaven blessed"

Stevie Wonder—"Isn't She Lovely?"

Terry Richmond heard the familiar rolling sound of his ten-year-old daughter's skateboard crossing over into the cul-de-sac of their gated townhome neighborhood. He could always pick out the unique sound of her board's ka-kump, ka-kump, ka-kump rhythm compared to her school buddies as they raced each other home.

Pilar always did a few kick flip tricks by Mr. Rhea's property before she jumped the curb and circled past a speed bump near Mrs. Purdue's home. While hand sanding a rocking chair, that he made for his pregnant sister, Terry paused.

He didn't hear Pilar's skateboard anymore.

Her crew of three friends whizzed past his open garage door toward their homes, but Terry didn't see his only child roll up to greet him with her angelic smile and chaotic energy. He lifted his protective goggles and wiped his hands on his work apron. Still no sign of her.

He strode out of the garage to take a peek and he noticed her lingering by their mailbox, still wearing her protective helmet and staring across the wide street. A furniture van blocked the driveway of the townhome facing across their property. A Black woman in her late twenties or early thirties directed two burly movers to carry a brand new sofa covered in plastic through her front door. The cute bob and conservative pastel colors of her sweater and pencil skirt had him guessing she was a teacher, or worked in corporate.

He glanced at Pilar who kept her dark brown eyes laser-focused on the recent addition to their quiet corner of the world. She chewed on her lip and rolled her board back and forth with her left foot. The new neighbor bought the house of Pilar's best friend since kindergarten. Little Leslie Gardner left Ville Broussard, Louisiana a year ago, and her old house stood empty for nine months until the For Sale sign finally came down three months ago. Terry knew that Mr. Gardner put a pretty penny into renovating the place before putting it on the market, and the expense of the renovation drove the price up.

The woman across the street probably spent over two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars for the two-bedroom property. Pilar pretended to dig in the mailbox, knowing he had already gotten the mail, and stared at the woman. From that distance, he couldn't tell if Pilar was still upset about Leslie moving or if she was upset that a stranger was moving into her bestie's old home.

"Pilar," he called out.

His daughter looked his way, and so did the woman across the street.

Whoa.

Terry never got a full view of the neighbor before. He always caught sideways glances or the back of her head. But the full frontal turned out to be something else. She looked like a gorgeous Black Barbie doll. He peeped her figure a few days ago when she first showed up in form-fitting pale green sweatpants and a matching hoodie. The fall weather brought out the layers, but she must've ignored the forecast because she walked around double-cheeked up in sportswear not designed for cooler temperatures.

Miss Neighbor turned her attention back to the interior of her home and Pilar ambled over, carrying her skateboard. She pulled off her skateboard helmet.

"Hey munchkin," he said, ruffling her thick two-toned curls pulled back with a light blue scrunchie. From the roots to just above the tips, Pilar's hair was dark brown. The ends had turned their annual summer-in-the-sun reddish brown that matched her skin tone. She looked exactly like his oldest sister Brianna and had her spirited personality, too.

Pilar's down-turned lips reflected a little 'tude.

"I don't see any kids," Pilar said.

She sounded bummed.

"Checking out the neighbor, huh?"

"She's pretty. Do you think she's pretty, Dad?"

"She is very attractive."

"Very?" Pilar said with a smug grin.

"Don't read anything into that."

"We should go say hi."

"She's busy with furniture. Let her get settled in."

He guided Pilar into their home through the garage, and she dumped her board and helmet by the dinette table. She washed her hands in the kitchen sink and he pulled a PB&J sandwich on a plate and a Capri Sun from the fridge, placing them on the table for her after-school snack.

The landline rang, and he answered it.

"Hi Terry, is Pilar in yet?"

His ex wife's voice sounded perky and happy.

"Yeah, hold on.'"

He carried the cordless from the living room into the kitchen and handed it to Pilar.

"It's your mom."

Pilar's face brightened, and she chatted away on the overseas call. Terry returned to the garage and began sanding the armrest of the rocking chair. He swept sawdust on the ground and closed the garage door after he finished.

Back in the kitchen, he rinsed his hands. An uneaten sandwich remained on the kitchen table without Pilar in sight. He looked in their living room and didn't find her there.

"Pilar?"

Terry climbed the stairs to the second floor and found his daughter weeping on her bed, her face buried in a yellow Big Bird pillow.

"What's wrong?"

He sat his big body on her twin bed, and she shook her head on the pillow. He laid a hand on her back.

"Babygirl, what is it?"

"Mom isn't coming back for Christmas. She eloped with that man in Italy and they plan on flying me out there for a boat cruise instead of coming to the lake like she promised. They'll have a big party in place of a wedding in Rome next July."

Pilar never addressed her new step-father by his name, Bryson. It was always "that man" despite her mother dating him for two years. Bryson was east coast respectability. A Black Archon Boulé with a prestigious prep school background and long family money. The complete opposite of Terry's country boy/military roots. He drove a 2015 F-250 truck and drank beer. Bryson drove a 2025 Jaguar and sipped Chardonnay.

Yolanda leveled up to the Black bougie life she always wanted. Terry knew in his heart that Yolanda would never be happy building a life with him. They were both twenty and naïve, getting married the moment they found out Pilar was conceived. He quit college and joined the marines to support them. Yolanda worked as a flight attendant after their daughter was born, so Terry stayed the primary caretaker, training other marines and not deploying out of the country.

Yolanda wanted more out of life than he could provide financially and asked for a divorce when Pilar turned six. Both their families had been shocked when she granted Terry primary custody of their only child. Yolanda wanted to travel the world and her career let her do that. She eventually settled in Atlanta, working for Delta. Pilar adjusted to being shuttled back and forth for holidays and summers.

Then Bryson popped up, freeing Yolanda from the working class. He was older, established, and child-free. Also very generous with his money.

Terry had made arrangements to send Pilar abroad for a lavish wedding the following summer as her mother's flower girl. She and Bryson had planned to spend the Christmas holiday with the entire Richmond family so that they could all meet the new man who would be connected to them through Pilar. Christmas was going to be the rare treat of being with both her parents for a holiday. The Richmond clan had reserved fancy cabins by a lake for a week and planned on turning it into a family reunion of sorts. Yolanda offered to arrange her Christmas plans for the reunion so Pilar wouldn't miss out on seeing all of her cousins from all over the states. Now she eloped and switched up on their child three months in advance.

Terry kept his anger in check in front of Pilar. He'd call Yolanda when his daughter was back in school and give her a smooth cuss out. He offered to switch Thanksgiving for Christmas because it was important for Pilar to experience a big reunion for the first time on his side of the family.

Pilar turned her head from the pillow. Big, wet eyes stared at him. Her bottom lip trembled and his heart squeezed in his chest. His daughter was the light of his life. Watching her expectations crumble hurt his soul. Pilar came first before anything, and that was the difference between him and Yolanda. Their daughter became a secondary consideration with her. His ex wasn't a terrible person. He loved her once a long time ago. She was ambitious, energetic, pretty, and gave him a perfect child. Yolanda just wasn't cut out to be a mother saddled with the responsibility of putting her daughter's emotional needs first. To Yolanda, whisking Pilar off to Rome probably sounded like giving her child the best in life. Bryson was an American Express Exec for their Italian branch and lived in a lavish home with staff and chauffeurs. Yolanda shopped, dined, and played tennis every day in luxury. She wanted Pilar to experience that lifestyle. In his own way, Terry wanted their daughter to have that chance, too. But without pulling the rug from under Pilar. She set her heart on having them all together for once since their divorce.

"Tell you what…I'll talk to her and try to convince them to come for Christmas."

"She said the cruise is their early honeymoon and they want me to go so we can bond as a new family. I already have a family!"

Pilar buried her face in his chest, and he stroked her hair.

"How about we go to Cholly's Burgers for dinner and you can mope over a double cheeseburger and a big chocolate malt?"

Pilar sniffled and wiped her nose.

"Okay, I'll go…but I can't guarantee that I'll feel better."

"Deal," he said.

He left her alone in her room and went down to the kitchen and put her sandwich and juice away. Checking emails on his smartphone, he spent the next couple of hours watching TV and then ironed Pilar's clothes for school. He showered and called his daughter down for their dinner trip. Outside, their new neighbor carried some things from her cream-colored Mercedes S-Class in the driveway.

"Excuse me," the woman called as Pilar jumped into his truck's passenger side.

"Yeah?" he called back.

"Hi, I'm Allegra…new neighbor…um, can you tell me what day the trash and recycling go out?"

"Thursdays!" Pilar called out.

His daughter had her head stuck out of the window with a big grin on her face.

"Yeah, Thursdays. They normally roll through around eleven a.m.," he said.

"Great, thanks."

"I'm Terry, and this is my daughter, Pilar—"

"Are you married? Have kids?" Pilar asked.

Allegra smiled politely, holding a small box. Her eyes bounced from Pilar's to his, then back to Pilar.

"I'm not married. No kids."

Pilar whipped her head around to look at Terry. He ignored her.

"Have a good evening," he said.

He climbed into his truck and started it up.

"You're really not good at finding a date, Dad."

"What are you talking about, little girl?"

He backed out of their driveway and headed toward the main road that led to the highway.

"A single, beautiful woman with a fancy car asked you about trash day. She could've called her realtor or looked it up online."

"We were right there in front of her. It's quicker to ask a neighbor. That woman is not looking to date people she lives around. Besides, she saw me with you, so she'll think I'm married with a family already."

"She'll know pretty soon that it's just you and me."

"I don't think most upwardly mobile Black women are interested in men that already have children nowadays."

It took them twenty minutes to arrive at the burger joint, and Pilar's mood lifted considerably. They talked about her upcoming soccer game and she slurped down her chocolate malt content with life once again.

Back home, he washed and braided her hair in two cornrows, tying it down with a black satin hair scarf so he wouldn't have to do her hair in the morning. Their evening bedtime routine went off without a hitch and he allowed her to watch a cartoon before she went to sleep in her room.

The next couple of weeks were normal in the Richmond household. He'd ride his bike in the morning to take Pilar to school, following behind her as she skateboarded ahead of him with her classmates. Later, he'd ride his bike over to check on the restaurant he invested in. He spent a few days with his financial advisor and moved some money around that he received from a police settlement. His current financial status allowed him to enjoy not having the worries of steady employment until he found something he wanted to do. He put funds in stocks that did well, paid off the townhouse, and Yolanda's monthly child support covered the rest for Pilar. His woodworking kept him busy during the afternoon while Pilar was in school. But once she was home, he went straight into daddy mode. Soccer Dad duty, carpooling to games, checking homework, cooking and cleaning, fixing things at his parent's house and running their errands…they all filled his time.

Once a week he went bowling with friends and drank at bars, chasing a little tail, but not really trying to catch much. His three older sisters rotated keeping Pilar with their kids so he could have some adult time. The last few "dates" he had were with single moms who complained about their ex-husbands or ex boyfriends. He thought one woman named Michaela would be a long-term situation, but she reconciled with her boyfriend and moved to Dallas.

After a Saturday soccer practice, Pilar came to him and asked if she could bake some cookies for a school party. It was nearing Halloween. He pulled out some easy to bake pre-made Tollhouse cookie dough from the freezer. All Pilar had to do was place the small chocolate chip cookie dough squares onto a baking sheet and use the stove timer to keep them from burning.

He kicked up his feet to watch the news and when the stove buzzer went off, he trotted into the kitchen to make sure Pilar didn't burn herself by taking them out of the oven with the oven mits. She only baked a dozen.

"Shouldn't you bake more for your class?" he asked.

"It's a potluck, so people are just bringing whatever to share."

After they cooled, she used a spatula to scoop them onto a decorative plate of pumpkins and fall leaves. He covered them with plastic wrap.

"Maybe you should put them in some Tupperware," he suggested.

"No, this is good."

He left her to handle her party business.

Terry didn't think anything about the cookies until three days later when Allegra showed up at his open garage door. His electric sander and earplugs prevented him from hearing her approach. He turned toward the street and almost jumped, not expecting someone to be standing near his truck watching him. Shutting off the sander, he pulled out the earplugs and stared at her with his goggles on.

"Sorry to startle you…Terry…right?"

He nodded.

"I came over to bring you back your cookie plate. That was such a thoughtful housewarming gift. I ate every single chocolate chip cookie. Perfectly gooey in the center the way I like! The note you wrote was really sweet, too. Thank you so much."

"I'm sorry?" he said in confusion.

Terry pushed up his goggles. Allegra handed him the plate that wasn't empty. On it were slices of banana bread. He looked at the baked goods, then back at her.

"To show my appreciation for the cookies…I just made it last night. I didn't put nuts in it because I don't know if anyone in your family is allergic to nuts."

"No, we aren't."

"I'll remember that."

Allegra's pretty eyelashes curled over naturally, and her lips had just enough red lipstick to give her plump lips a rosy tint. She was dream girl material, and the cut and style of her bob reminded him of something the old Black starlets wore in the sixties, but it looked contemporary too with a soft flip on the ends. Terry became lost in her face and she seemed equally lost in his, her gaze never leaving his eyes. That was one of the physical traits that women always said they loved about him. The green, lion-like eyes. She looked up at him and their size difference was quite obvious. She was petite-chic, the cut and color of her clothes making her seem taller far away. Allegra was shorter than his ex wife. He felt like a big giant standing next to her. She smelled so good. Her perfume hinted at jasmine in the summer.

"My daughter and I will enjoy this. Thanks for bringing it over with the plate," he said.

Allegra smiled and his chest caved in. Was it possible for her to be even more attractive with a smile on her face?

She glanced around his makeshift workshop.

"Woodworking? You do this for a living?" she asked.

He stepped aside to let her see the dining cabinet he built for another neighbor.

"Actually, it's a hobby of mine."

"Hobby? This is true craftsmanship."

He touched the side of the cabinet.

"I learned it from my dad and kept at it in highschool."

"If I paid you, could you make me a couple of custom bookshelves?"

"What type of wood?"

"Not too expensive."

"I can make some maple wood shelves and stain them to look expensive.'

"I like your way of thinking. When I get the time, I'll measure my walls and let you know what I need."

"Still settling in?"

"My god, I haven't unpacked all of my boxes. I'm still eating takeout because I dread unpacking everything in my kitchen. My new job keeps me busy and I'm usually too tired by the end of the day. I should be unpacking right now, but I have to leave for an event soon."

She sighed and pushed back a flipped curl on her forehead.

"I better let you get back to work. Again…thank you for the sweet welcoming gesture."

Allegra left him alone in the garage and he watched her walk back across the street to her place. She had a little sway in her hips as she walked in her well-fitted navy blue dress pants and structured white button-down shirt. The light pink cardigan sweater tied around her shoulders was such a classy touch, along with her chunky blocked-heeled pumps.

He looked down at his dust-laden ripped jeans and brown work apron. Not too shabby, but he almost wanted to spruce up. He took the plate into the kitchen and checked the time. Pilar would be there in half an hour. He wanted to know what she wrote in that note to Allegra.

Running a hot shower, he cleaned his body and stared at his reflection in the mirror afterward. Time for a fresh line-up. His facial hair looked a little ungroomed. He took time to shave and then changed into better jeans and a fitted long sleeve shirt. He waited at the front door, peeking out of the screen.

Allegra stepped into her Mercedes wearing a pastel coral cocktail dress with an upswept hairdo, looking like Diahann Carroll with a smidgen of Grace Kelly. She drove off to wherever she needed to go and he imagined how breathtaking she'd look, stepping into a crowded room with all eyes on her beauty.

Ka-kump. Ka-kump. Ka-kump.

Pilar glided onto the sidewalk near their house and headed for the garage.

"I'm right here," he said.

She looked at him through the screen. He opened it and stepped outside. Folding his arms over his wide chest, he gave his daughter a questioning look.

"Am I in trouble?" she asked.

Her friends Caleb, Trudy, and Aisha waved at her and kick-pushed their skateboards toward their houses while yelling hello to him.

"You baked those cookies for Miss Allegra. Not a school party."

Pilar gave him a sheepish grin.

"What did you write in the note?"

"I just said something like…welcome to the neighborhood. Enjoy these homemade cookies. Then I put your name on it."

"Just my name?"

"Yes."

"She brought the plate back and made us some banana bread."

"Ooh!" Pilar said, rubbing her hands together. "My plan is set in motion."

"What plan?"

"Dad…c'mon. Miss Allegra is the best-looking woman around here. I think you should ask her out on a date."

"I don't need my ten-year-old setting us up."

Pilar put a hand on her hip.

"Well, Auntie Brianna and Auntie Sloane said she's gorgeous and they think you should get to know her. She might be your perfect fit."

"How would they know? They've never seen her."

"I snuck a picture of her on my phone and sent it to them."

"Why the sudden interest in getting me to date?"

Pilar's gaze dropped to the ground.

"No reason. She's new and you don't go out as much anymore."

"That's because I have to take care of you. You're my priority. Dating can always come later."

He stepped aside and let her come in with her skateboard.

"It was a nice thing you did…giving her the cookies," he said.

Pilar grinned.

Terry was an adept father and took pride in keeping a meticulous home, and his child put together well when she exited the front door. Two weeks before Thanksgiving, Pilar started coming home from school with wildly disheveled hair. Even if he put protective styles in with twists or high buns with little curls framing her face with cute tendrils, his daughter returned looking like her head went through a blender.

She'd claim it was the weather. Bad rainfall, or the wind messing it up, but for ten school days, she rolled back home with her hair every which-way, rubber bands busted, barrettes missing, and knocker ball hair bobbles vanished into thin air. She'd roll through, and each time, their neighbor Allegra would be outside collecting her mail. Pilar would wave and say "Hi!" really loud and Allegra responded in kind before stepping back into her house.

He assumed she wanted her hair out, craving to wear hairstyles like her older girl cousins. Rather than make a big deal about it, he started putting a headband on her.

One Saturday afternoon, Pilar played outside on the curved part of the cul-de-sac with her friends, kicking a soccer ball into Caleb's two netted goal posts. A typical loud day of children freely running around screaming and playing in the street. Pilar rocked a bushy 'fro and had the loudest voice out of the bunch.

He kept an eye out for them while watching a football game by leaving his livingroom shades open. Snacking on some chips, he turned his head to check on the action outside.

He quickly ducked his head down low.

Allegra played outside with the children.

Terry hid behind the couch and secretly watched Allegra interact with the neighborhood kids doing soccer ball tricks with her knees and sneaker'd feet. She kicked the ball to Pilar and his daughter charged her, heading for a goal post. Allegra wasn't shy about her defensive moves and easily swiped the ball away from his daughter, kicking it with a curved arc into the opposite goal post. All the children squealed in delight and high-fived her. She stepped aside to let the children continue their boisterous match up.

Terry's back ached from being hunched over spying. Pilar spoke to Allegra for a long time, ignoring her friends, and her bouncy energy kept a smile on the woman's face. Allegra glanced toward his open window and Terry dropped to the floor, hiding his body.

He waited five minutes.

"Why are you on the floor, Daddy?"

Pilar stood above him with a quizzical expression. She'd come in the house through the garage door.

"Stretching my back out," he said.

"But you're on your stomach."

"Can I help you with something?" he said, standing up.

Outside, Allegra stood watching him through the window.

"I asked Miss Allegra how she kept her hair so pretty and she told me her hair care routine. I'm coming to get a pen and paper for her to write it down so you can take care of my hair."

"What? I know how to take care of your hair! I've been doing it since you were born."

Pilar grabbed a Bic pen and tore a piece off some junk mail envelope sitting on the coffee table.

"Daddy, please. Work with me here. I've been looking raggedy for two weeks to get her attention. She finally asked about my curls and I asked about her hair."

Pilar dashed out the front door before he could stop her. She handed Allegra the pen and paper. Terry became flustered. His daughter pretended to be unkempt to fool a grown woman into having sympathy for him.

Allegra scribbled on the paper outside and he felt exposed for something that wasn't true. Pilar ran back into the house through the front door and handed him the half envelope. Most of what Allegra listed, Terry already had in his bathroom for his daughter.

However…she wrote her phone number down, too.

"Boo-ya!" Pilar said, flinging her fingers open like an explosion going off.

"Come into the kitchen with me," he said.

Pilar followed him.

"Sit," he commanded.

He stuffed the half envelope in his back pocket.

"Pilar…babygirl…I know you mean well, but please…stop the antics."

"But Daddy—"

"I mean it."

His voice went down an octave, his baritone sounding harsh. Pilar ran from the kitchen table and stomped loudly up the stairs. He closed his eyes in frustration and waited fifteen minutes before going upstairs.

Pilar cried on her bed. Her loud bawling startled him.

"Munchkin…I'm not mad…I just…you don't have to do this."

"I do!" she wailed.

He sat in his usual spot and let her get her emotions out. She eventually calmed down to gaspy shudders and sad moans of pain. He brushed her hair back, and she threw her arms around his neck.

"I don't want you being alone. Mom married somebody and now she gets to be happy. I want you to be happy, too, Daddy."

"Munchkin, I am happy. I have you…grampy and grandma, your aunts, my friends—"

She shook her head against his neck.

"It's not the same as having someone for yourself. I'll grow up and go to college and you'll be here by yourself. Everyone in our family has someone. Grampy has Grandma, Auntie Brianna has Uncle Mitch…Auntie Sloane has Uncle Kenny. Even Auntie Monique has her boyfriend Gordon. I'm scared for you, Daddy. You're such a good, kind person and you deserve what Mommy has."

Pilar burst into more tears and his eyes grew blurry. He wiped them and pulled back from his daughter.

"It's not your responsibility to worry about me. My job is to worry about you, hear me?"

Pilar kept crying. Her nose ran, but she nodded at his words.

"When the time comes for me to find my special someone…it'll happen. Naturally. Understand?"

"Y-Y-Yessss," she blubbered.

He kissed her forehead and used his thumbs to wipe away warm tears.

"Can I tell you something that will make you happy?"

"O-O-Okayyyy," she choked out.

"Your Mom and 'that man' agreed to change their plans back to coming out for Christmas. And, I don't have to trade Thanksgiving."

"For real?"

"For real. In fact, Bryson urged your mother to reconsider, and he rescheduled the cruise for next year. He's not so bad, huh?"

Pilar sniffled, and her swollen red eyes pained him.

"I guess not."

"Let's make a deal, okay? You don't worry about hooking me up and just enjoy being a little girl with a happy father."

"Are you happy?"

"I am. I have you and a very full life. Promise. Go wash your face and get back outside with your friends."

"Okay, Daddy."

She jumped off the bed and ran to the hall bathroom. He went to her bedroom window and peeked out from the blinds. Allegra went back into her home. He pulled the scrap of envelope from his back pocket and stared at her phone number.

Saturday afternoons were usually Terry and Pilar's time to decompress and watch movies together. Sometimes there was a slumber party with her cousins at their house or one of his sister's. But on this particular Saturday, it was football fever on the flatscreen TV with his buddies while Pilar was at her grandparents' house.

Terry had plenty of pizzas and beer, and his sound system blasted the play-by-play of the game. He enjoyed the company of his buddies, all Black men with families, and very little free time except for the small moments of respite at Terry's place. The Steelers beat the Commanders and the guys talked shit, then they played his AuxGod Hip Hop Edition game. He rapped his ass off while playing Nas's "One Mic" on his smartphone and got his friends hyped to share R&B music. They all howled when someone messed up playing the wrong songs based on cards they pulled, thinking they had the perfect jam. Good clean fun.

The afternoon wound down into late evening and he cleaned up pizza boxes and empty beer cans. His friends bumped fists and gave each other dap as they left out the front door. Rain started falling, and he noticed Allegra pulling into her driveway. The late hour had him guessing she had a night out again. Her job didn't keep her from a busy social life. He often caught sight of her coming and going on the weekends. One time, another car brought her home and stayed overnight in her driveway.

He waved his friends away and pulled out his cell to call his father.

"Hey Junior," his father said.

"Hey, Pops. How's it going over there?"

"Good. The girls are playing and your mama is letting them stay up late to watch some Godzilla movie on Amazon Prime."

"I wanted to say goodnight to Pilar."

"No problem, hold on…Pilar! Your Dad is on the phone!"

Terry waited for his daughter, and soon enough, her voice rang in his ear.

"Hey, Dad."

"Being good?"

"Of course. What time are you picking me up tomorrow?"

"After you get back from church."

"Aw man. You can't get me early, so I don't have to go?"

"I had to suffer through it. It's your turn now."

"But they take forever. Even God goes to sleep by the time that preacher gets done."

"Hey, don't blaspheme, and don't you two keep Grampy and Grandma up too late, okay?"

"We won't. Night, Dad!"

Terry swiped his smartphone and noticed Allegra's car lights were still on. She hadn't left her driveway. He guessed she was talking on her cell phone.

His house smelled of cigars, pepperoni, and Budweiser. He finished cleaning up and sprayed the dining room with air freshener. Rolling his neck muscles, he climbed up to his bedroom. His blinds were open, and he checked the street again.

Allegra stood near her car in the rain looking up at the sky. She stuck her tongue out, tasting the droplets, and spun around in a circle with her arms outstretched. He smiled. She looked like a big kid having fun.

The rain drenched her hair, and she swiped it back, her tresses turning into slick ringlets. The playfulness she exuded cracked something open inside of him. Maybe Pilar was right. Maybe he did want someone to share his life with. He and Allegra barely exchanged enough words in passing for him to sense that she would be open to going out for a coffee or dinner. She never got back to him about the bookshelves, and he never called her phone number to ask about the hair care products she suggested for Pilar.

His confidence in asking women out had waned that year. Each time he thought he might want to spend time with a woman, schedules didn't match up, or he didn't feel that pull to pursue a relationship. The spark wasn't there. Part of him was afraid to put his heart back out there. His ex, Yolanda, had been a heartbreak he finally let go of two years ago. It frightened him into not wanting to be vulnerable with another woman again. Romantic love was for the brave, and Terry was not feeling brave anymore.

But Allegra?

After shaking her arms, she finally went inside her house, not caring that her snazzy outfit was soaked clear through to her skin. He looked at his dresser. The envelope with her number sat next to his hairbrush.

He texted her number.

Hi, Allegra. This is your neighbor, Terry. I was going to pick up some lumber at Home Depot tomorrow and wanted to know if you were still interested in getting bookshelves made? No rush to answer. I'm always going there every other week. If you changed your mind, that's cool, too.

He sent it off, and seconds later, she rang him up.

"Hello?"

He sounded breathless.

"Hi…Terry? It's Allegra…from across the street. Got your message."

"Oh, great. Sorry for texting so late. I was about to turn in and wanted to ask you before I forgot and left tomorrow."

He winced. His words came out in a rush of nervous energy.

"I do want the bookshelves made. I've been so busy I just never got around to measuring anything. Could you come by tomorrow before you leave and take a look at my floor space? You'd have a better idea of measurements than I would."

Terry stared at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes turned into saucers.

"I can do that. I've got to pick up my daughter from church tomorrow at one. I can drop by with my digital tape measure before then and then go to Home Depot."

"Can I go with you? I'd like to see the wood you're considering besides the maple you told me about."

"Uh…sure."

"What time should I expect you over here?"

"Let's say ten?"

"Great, see ya then."

"Goodnight."

He hung up, stunned.

She wanted to go with him to the Depot?

"So, what do you think? Two shelves here and then two more in my office room?"

Allegra watched him make final calculations on his phone. He surveyed her living room set-up one more time to ensure efficient use of her space. They'd spent a good twenty minutes upstairs in her stylish office and he made a quick sketch on his notepad of the shelving unit he could make for her in there. She would pay for the wood and any extra supplies he needed, and he insisted on doing the work for free.

The layout in her house was roomy and leaned toward a mid-century modern styled interior. She liked rich and luxurious wood furniture with mustard yellow and avocado-colored accents. Her home fit her personal style the way he imagined it would. It had a timeless quality. He told her a little about the family that lived there before she bought the place, and the conversation meandered into her own hobbies of painting and gardening. She showed him her patio space in the back and he offered to build her plant containers to grow her favorite flowers. Those were easy to put together and would be cheaper than her buying them pre-made online.

He learned that she had been a highschool soccer star, and that talent landed her a full-ride scholarship to Brown University where she almost landed a spot on the Olympic team. But a skiing accident ruined her shot. She still liked to watch the game and play occasionally.

Allegra worked from home mostly as an In-House attorney for a legal firm with document heavy cases, thus the need for bookshelves to hold all her law books. She did contract reviews, legal research, and dealt with a lot of intellectual property research for her clients.

Terry listened to her talk about herself, and her warm personality gave him the courage to open up about himself. Of course, he bragged about Pilar, and on their way to Home Depot, he pointed out places of interest to her.

"I always wanted to live in a small town," she said. "I grew up in New England, but my grandparents were from here, so I had annual trips for holidays and always liked it. Now that I can work remotely from home, I put stakes in the ground and live here full time. Getting away from the east coast has been a relief. This place makes me happy."

"We love it here. Excellent schools, nice people who look out for each other."

"It's just you and Pilar?"

"Yep. My ex remarried and moved to Europe."

"Co-parenting overseas must be rough."

"Yolanda…my ex…she recently moved there. It's going to be a change for sure. I'm used to Pilar flying a quick hop to Atlanta. Now, she'll have partial summers there and I don't know if I can handle her flying so far away where I can't get to her fast, y'know?"

"I had to do it when I was young. My parents divorced when I was twelve. I hopped from Boston to England to stay with my dad and his new wife on my school breaks. My mother was a nervous wreck at first, but you adjust."

"I hope so. I try to be stoic for Pilar, but I know I'll be in shambles when she flies out there next year."

Allegra laughed and the sound of her voice so close comforted him.

"I'll help talk you down when those nerves kick up," she said.

They walked up and down aisles at the Home Depot, and since he was a regular, the workers there were quick to help him because he didn't waste time. Terry explained the different type of wood options and they compared prices. He did his best to keep costs down for her, and she went along with whatever he thought was best. She'd seen his work output and trusted his skills.

He loaded up the truck bed, and they swooped over to his grandparents' church to pick up Pilar. His daughter's eyes widened when she noticed Allegra sitting in the truck. She ran past Terry and chatted with Allegra. He soon introduced his parents to her, and they invited her to attend a church service in the future.

Pilar hopped in the seat behind Allegra, and he drove them back to their home.

"I'll unload this and start working on your shelving units tomorrow," he said.

"Great."

Pilar watched them interact. She wore the goofiest grin on her face.

Allegra took off across the street and he watched her leave along with Pilar. When she was outside of earshot, Pilar grabbed his arm.

"You hung out with her?" she enthused.

"We talked about her bookshelves."

"So you went inside her house and spent time with her, right?"

"I did."

"Isn't she cool? She plays soccer, and she likes monster movies…"

Pilar stopped gushing about Allegra.

"I forgot. You told me not to interfere."

"I might've been wrong about that," he said.

Pilar's face lit up.

"Oh, yeah?"

"I like her. She's really nice and smart."

"My work here is done," Pilar said.

She skipped into the house, and he unloaded the truck.

Making bookshelves and planter boxes was the beginning.

Next came inviting Allegra over for football game gatherings with his family.

He introduced her to his oldest sister who gave birth to a baby boy, her first, and he watched Allegra nervously hold the newborn with trepidation in her eyes.

"You got it…just hold his head like this and keep him close to you…yeah, see, you got it," he said.

Terry's new nephew was a little chocolate drop.

"He's so tiny and adorable," Allegra said.

All of his sisters liked her, and his mother took the grand gesture of inviting her to join them on their family Christmas trip. Allegra looked genuinely receptive to the idea, but she already had plans to fly out to Boston to spend the winter holiday with her family. Terry felt bummed about it and realized that he was catching feelings for her.

He kept their budding friendship platonic, but by the following spring, it was clear to everyone around them that something was blooming past friendship. They hadn't been physical with each other yet, not even kissing. He liked the slow, easy pace. It gave him time to know her before jumping into anything serious, especially since he had Pilar to think of.

His daughter was crazy about Allegra.

He was too.

As time ticked on and it grew closer to the time that Pilar would have to fly overseas, his anxiety spiked. He was not planning on attending the celebration. His former sister-in-law, Zarah, was going to fly the long distance with Pilar to Rome.

The day his daughter was to leave, he paced in his living room, going over Pilar's packing list several times. Allegra hung out with him, reassuring him that all would be well. Zarah was on her way in a Lyft to pick up Pilar. They all thought it best that he say his goodbyes from home and not go to the airport.

"Go to the restroom one more time before you leave," he told his daughter.

Pilar ran upstairs to her bathroom.

"I'm going to put the roast in the oven for our dinner tonight," Allegra said. "Be right back."

He walked her outside of his home. When Allegra reached the sidewalk, she turned around to face him. For the first time, she slid her arms around his waist and looked up at him.

"You're a great Dad, Terry. Pilar is so lucky to have you…and so am I."

Terry locked eyes with her, and any fears he had about taking a chance on finding love melted away.

"May I kiss you?" he asked.

Her eyes twinkled like she'd been waiting her whole life to hear him say those four words.

"Yes, you may, Mr. Richmond."

He placed his forehead against hers first and savored the moment before the moment. Yes, he deserved someone for himself. His wily daughter had been so correct in her assessment of him. Forever grateful for Pilar's push to get him out into the world with the special woman in his arms, Terry lowered his head and kissed Allegra.

His full, lush lips were nothing compared to the soft place of comfort he found pressed against her mouth. Her lips coaxed a passion out of him he hadn't felt in years. He kept the kiss a little below chaste…she gave him a little teasing of her tongue to entice him for more later, when they would be alone. His grin broke their physical contact and the butterflies in his stomach told him she was the one to take a chance with.

He pushed a fluffy bang away from her left eye and Allegra glanced up toward his second floor. Terry followed her gaze, and they both glimpsed Pilar looking down at them from her bedroom window. She fist-pumped her right hand, and the expression she gave them was pure joy.

Her little plan worked.

Author's Note:

I wanted to write something fast and fluffy to put out the day after the horror of that anti-Black orange menace being put back in office by racist white people and their non-Black PoC racist minions. Black women need soft, joyful things to get us through. We all we got. Remember that.

#Terry Richmond #Rebel Ridge #Aaron Pierre #terry richmond fanfiction #rebel ridge fanfiction #terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond x oc #terry richmond fluff #Uzumaki Rebellion #Girl Dad Terry Richmond

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

Note

Idk if you’re still taking requests for your bake sale (which is the cutest idea btw) but if you are… apple pie, prompt number 31 with Steve? (three people sat on a two-seater sofa)

I was! This probably wasn't what you had in mind but I thought it would be silly so here you go :)

cw: alcohol

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 693 words

“Stay still.” Steve’s voice is low, a smile teasing his lips. “I’ve almost got it.”

You roll your eyes at him, but your own smile is just as poorly repressed. You still love it when he flirts with you. Even when you’re at one of his friend-of-a-friend’s parties where everyone wants to talk with him, Steve only has eyes for you.

“I don’t know how you missed it the first three times.”

“Does it seem like I’m fucking around? It’s tricky, babe.”

“Seems like you might be fucking around a little bit…” you tease.

Steve swipes at something under your eye. “Got it. What’d I tell you?”

You beam at him. “Okay, I take it back. My hero.”

His grin widens, but he squints at your face. “Yeah, except now you’ve got makeup on your cheek. Sorry.”

“Really.” You frown, wiping at where he’d touched with your finger. It must have smeared your mascara. “Can you get it off?”

“Yeah, just a sec, you’ve gotta make a wish first.” Steve holds up his finger in front of you, your eyelash balanced on its tip.

You roll your eyes again, but neither of you are buying that you’re anything other than totally besotted with him. You inhale, holding your wish in your head.

You blow the lash harder than you mean to when you’re jostled from behind.

Steve frowns over your shoulder. The guy behind you has found a new and innovative way to make out with his girlfriend, him leaning over the edge of the couch and her on the beanbag below. The two of them set up camp long after you and Steve had been sitting on this couch, and the limited space means he occasionally bumps you in his enthusiasm.

“We should move,” Steve says, not for the first time.

“No way,” you reply again. “We were here first.”

“This couch wasn’t made for three people.”

You huff, irritated. “Yeah, but all the other seating is taken.”

“I’ll get us a nice patch of carpet,” he bargains. “We’ll treat it like a picnic.”

You shake your head. You know you’re being stupid, but it’s the principle of the thing. You want the guy who’d squeezed onto your couch to have to share it with you. “It’s not fair that we have to be the ones to move,” you say.

Steve sighs, but his expression is fond. “Fine. At least swap places with me.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Your funeral,” you say, but you scoot into the spot he leaves vacant when he stands.

Steve presents a stronger front than you had, sitting up instead of leaning away from where the other guy is infringing upon his space.

“Alright, c’mere,” he says, reaching for you. “Let me get your makeup.”

You lean forward happily. Steve uses the condensation from his beer to wet his thumb, rubbing at your cheek concentratedly. It’s then that your couch companion chooses to sit up. Evidently, he really had forgotten he was sharing the couch with two other people, because he knocks right into Steve, causing your boyfriend to lurch forward and for a bit of his beer to spout over the lip of the bottle and into your laps.

You press a hand over your mouth, laughing, while Steve expels an incredulous breath.

The guy looks back as though surprised to find him there. “Sorry, man.” He claps a hand on Steve’s shoulder, wandering off.

“Quick,” you urge, “scoot back!”

When Steve doesn’t move fast enough, you get up and move behind him, taking up the other side of the couch and stretching out your legs so there’s no space for anyone else.

“What an ass.” Steve still looks in shock.

“At least we held down the fort,” you say gleefully. “We won in the end.”

“We won?” He laughs. “You’ve got beer on your pants, baby.”

You shrug, ignoring the cold on your legs. “A small price to pay for victory.”

Steve huffs, but he’s grinning, crawling across the couch to meet you. “You are so—” he kisses you firmly “—stubborn.”

“Mhm, yeah. Now get back in your place before somebody takes it.”

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blingblong55 · 11 months ago

Text

Needy- John Price NSFW

Photo credits: @ave661 (left)

Based on a request:

Blingy!! *grabs shoulder* BLINGY!!! *shows tiktok* (https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNkkXVpP/) HELP ME BLINGY. H E L P M E. Reader walking in on Price masturbating to her and then it becomes a cat-and-mouse chase ksbashskdbwkbsjs ---- F!Reader, smut, 18+, MDNI, oral!sex ----

A/N: somewhat short but smutty nonetheless

You were out with your friends all day, left early morning and haven't been back home since. Well, in that time of you being away, John cleaned around the home and found a set of lingerie that he bought you many days ago, he smiled at the memory from when he took it off you, made you his that whole night and how you screamed his name. Then he felt it, his jeans getting tighter, the dirty ideas coming to his head and his arousal barely letting him think straight. He sat down on the sofa, pulled his phone out and looked through the folder of pictures and videos he had of you, all he took or that you sent. The lewd images doing his growing boner no good.

John unzips his jeans, phone in his right hand, he begins to slowly stroke his cock, swiping between videos, your body looking so good on camera. Your tits, bouncing perfectly for the camera, he groans, his head thrown back. "Fuuckk...fuck lovie," he moans but doesn't stop stroking himself. "John?" Your soft voice filled with confusion interrupts him and he quickly covers himself like a teenager being caught. "h-hi my love,...uh..how was it?" He stands up and kisses your cheek, his phone still playing the video which he quickly and embarrassingly shuts down. Nervous laughter escapes his lips.

"Uh..great, it – uhm were you, wanking off?"

"N-no– well yes, I...was," he hides your panties in his back pocket.

You nod and walk away, leaving him confused and still aroused. "Love, come here, I need help," his voice was low but still whiny. You smirk and ignore his plea. He adjusts his jeans and walks to you, he knew your game but had no intention of playing it. "I found that centrepiece for the table I was looking for," you say, washing the piece. "Love, c'mon, don't be like this," he hugs you from behind, his voice low and filled with need.

"Be like what? I'm just excited I finally found something for the dinner table." You play coy and smirk, he sees that reflection on the window and sighs. "Tsk tsk, don't play hard to get, please my love," his voice lower, lips by your ear as he begs. "Hard to get? John, I'm washing this. I haven't a clue what you're talking about." you chuckle as you feel him nibble on the soft skin of your neck.

The longer you ignore his need, the more his erection grows. "That's it, I can't take it," he picks you up and takes you to the bedroom, sitting down and forcing you on your knees. "Now, be a good little wife and please me," he undoes his jeans, his fat cock soon in his hand as he slaps it on your face. "John~" you whisper but before you can say much, he gives you that look. You smile and lick his tip, teasing his swollen member slowly and with a look of thirst.

"R/N," he moans, his head thrown back, John's hands fist your hair and he pushes your head further on his cock. "Fuck, just like that, yes...oh fuck–baby," his pants mixed with moans feed your thirst. The nose filled with his musky scent, your ears hearing the melody his throat letting out and his body radiating heat. Your hands on his thighs for support as you give him head. His cock is so fat you keep gagging, creating tear stains on your soft face. He wipes your tears as you look up at him, his cock filling your greedy mouth full, your brows furrowed, waiting for the usual forehead kiss.

From your peripheral you watch the panties he shoved earlier fall, you smirk up at him. He, unaware cups your face and praises you. "That's it, keep going. That's my good girl," he grunts, biting his lower lip and pushing your head deeper. You play with his heavy balls, leading him to moan and whimper, "fuck, r/n, keep going, just..like that– fuck!" he whimpers as he feels himself cum inside your pretty mouth. "Swallow, love," he whispers and caresses your face as he continues to paint your mouth with his sticky cum.

After swallowing, he leans forward and kisses you, pushing you to the bed and cuddling with you. "I promise to be gentle tonight," he whispers before kissing your forehead once more. You nod and kiss him once more.

Tags:

@anonymuslydumb @unicorngirly1 @liyanahelena @under-the-dirt @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @greatstormcat @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @idklols @katybaby00 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @juneonhoth @jinxxangel13. @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @coralwitchdreamland

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gildedkrone · 1 year ago

Note

tbh all I've been thinkin about is being in a relationship with simon n John(price) n often seeing John as a top/dom to simon n like ending up trying to do that to simon only for it to backfire and get urself absolutely punished for trying, n when John comes home to it, he only just gives u both a kiss and asks why ur being punished but does no move to help u :333

KINKTOBER 2023 🔞

“’s that all you can do?”

Shut up. He drawls, honeyed strings of sin spilling from delectable lips and with a hint of mirth in his eyes at your pathetic inexperience when it came to … this.

“Shut. Up.” And punctuated by a thrust of your hips and his lips part slightly.

They part, like the gates of heaven but alas, he is soundless and each attempt strips away at your confidence in this … situation. You had seen Price do it on multiple occasions, so why was it not working on Ghost?

He is wholly unfazed by your attempts to move your hips and for the past fifteen minutes, he remains leery of your intentions to top him.

“Darling, just call it a day, yeah?” No!

The door clicks open to reveal the captain’s slack jawed expression at the scene before him. Ghost is laid on his back propped up by pillows while you are settled between his thighs with your dick in him on the giant sofa in the apartment.

“This is a hell of a welcome home, sweethearts.”

His clothes are quick work and he shuts the door before hands find themselves on your hips and they are calloused, rough in sensations familiar in a feeling of Price. You smell the cigar smoke in hints of woodsy scents when his face rests beside yours on shoulders to take in the view.

“Go on, give a thrust.” You follow his orders and Ghost grunts softly when his walls are pushed apart by the intruding head ending in a shiver. Lubed hands gently massage your ass and the fingers are dancing sensations of ill-concealed lust as Price hummed.

He comments something wrong about the angle of your thrusts—not deep enough and too shallow to elicit any pleasure. Ghost swipes a hand and Price tuts in admonishing noises.

Bring his legs up, lad. Behave, Simon.

The cocky glint in his eyes dares you and it’s a spear of ego, driving you to prove him wrong. To reduce Ghost to a crying, overstimulated mess beneath your body, of flesh ridden with pleasure, too much pleasure and eyes full blown. What a sight it would be, to reduce your superior to a whore of a man in otherwise calm and steadfast manner of a working man; to ruin that stupid collected nature of his demeanour and force moans and drool from that ironclad mouth.

“You’ve got a big dick, lad. Now you’ve just got to learn how to use it.”

Ghost’s muscled and lovely thighs are raised to rest on your shoulders and fuck! The first experimental thrust had you falling even deeper into his ass and ripping a frazzled moan from his stoic mouth. You welcomed Price’s chuckle as he doled out praise while he nudged his dick against your rear.

“Wait, Price—ah!” His grunt is something guttural when Price is fully seated within you in one flush movement. No complaints, lad? No, you tell him. His dick is nicely firm and girthy and the fingers around your hips tighten in preparation for what’s to come.

“Hold on, sweetheart. Let the captain demonstrate.” And then, his hips are slammed flush against yours. You thought it would end there but Price is still pushing to drive your dick home within Ghost. The lieutenant growls something fierce turn airy when Price gives a hard thrust while you are still fully seated in him.

His low chuckles are set against two other men struggling to comprehend the new bout of pleasure in their loins. Whipping the golden shimmery reins of lust again, your gasp is echoed by Ghost when the burn from this new position turns into something wild.

The wildfires of sin burning up in your unfulfilled bodies.

“Fuck! Love—slo-ow down!” The ever stubborn lieutenant still struggles to retain some sense of control. Unfortunately, his partners have no intention of acquiescing and a hand grasps the forgotten organ between his legs.

The first strokes, combined with the rough and persistent thrusts, drowns in him pleasure a lurid gold and the very first of many moans slip through his lips. It’s pumping your ego, to know that he is very much affected by it now. As much as you are with Price’s dick still doing wonders in you.

“See this, sweetheart? This is h-how you fuckin’ do it.” Breathy pauses punctuate his low whisper and you nod blindly while the pace of the tryst is set by the captain and gods above, it’s something carnal—the way Price is rocking into you and the biting of Ghost’s lips and the smattering of pink dusting his cheeks.

He looks so beautiful in the laces of eros, and you renew your thrusts together with Price to really drive the man to hell and back. Mutters and whines grows in volume in beats of “fuck!” and “luvvie!” from the man drunk on pleasure beneath your moving body.

Sweat coats his torso in a light sheen as his abs flex to tighten his core as he tightens around your dick suddenly. It makes you feel all the bigger within him and wrapped up in tight, wet heat are the waves of the high eroding at instincts and control as you concentrate on not cumming right there and then into an ass greedily sucking to keep you in.

Price’s arm comes to wrap around your torso and the thrusts stop. The hand on Ghost’s leaky and angry looking dick stills too and he growls when the pleasure plateaus.

“This what you wanted, darling?” You fervently nod and Price instructs Ghost to beg. The itch in the knot in his groin overpowers his dignity and all sense of shame; broken words are all he can form with quivering lips taut with tension.

Begs, like a cheap common whore for you to move. To do anything to quell that fuzz that is driving him insane with how it consumes his sanity. Price asks if you think he deserves to come. Ghost’s lips are parted to expose the pink tongue brushing across his bottom lip and the occasional fidgeting of that beautiful body all splayed beneath you. You painted him into a pleasure drunk man, seeking nothing but whatever will tip him over into promised ecstasy. He begs, a breathy voice.

“Darlings, please … please! H-have mercy—fuck—I can’t … Price, m-make him move, sweethearts, don’t—”

Price rumbles something affectionate and moves your hips as Ghost whimpers and ramble off phrases of “yes!”. Fuck, no wonder Price loved this position—the cock drunk expression on Ghost’s face and the flimsy shield the human ego is to pleasure—the tip leaking with pre—is tripping your ego all the way up.

“He’s close, darling. Let’s bring him home, yeah?”

Bring him home you will, and the thrusts are absolutely designed to hammer home pleasure in a pinpoint blowing out into skies of euphoria and on the very edge of human perception, where pain meets pleasure and blends into undecipherable sensations wracking the chains shackled around Ghost’s lust to finally tip the man into an orgasm.

He comes with a noisy shout and his walls clench around you vice like while his dick empties his cum in spurts of liquid across his chest. You fare no better and the sudden tightness of his clenching walls tips you over too and your thrusts turn sloppy amidst blasts of hot cum. His cries of “y-yes! fuck!” when you seed him accompanies his instinctual need to milk you of all you have to give. Price comes last, with a grip leaving marks for days and burying himself to the hilt before warmth floods your orifice and leaks out around the member gently softening with each thrust. The captain’s noise of release is cathartic; the stress of the day and job gently easing with his climax.

“H-hope you learned something, love.”

Judging by the fluttering of Ghost’s eyelids and the mess on his abdomen, the man is absolutely fucked into oblivion and basking in the afterglow. Cum dribbles out of his ass when you pull out and Price's hand stops you.

“He’s so pretty like this. Don’t you think so, sweetheart?”

Ghost is a debauched man, laying on the bed with pride bruised and ego clawed by your doing as his chest heaves with each deep breath loud as thunder. Price whispers—one more time, to show him what you’ve learnt.

Ghost barely has time to protest when your dick pushes past his rim as his eyes come alive with disbelief and fright anticipation. Pleasure bubbles in waves and the man grasps your hand in an attempt to halt what’s about to happen. The glint in your eyes paint something predatory and he protests in broken moans when you start rutting into him.

“Fuck! Luvvie … Y-yer fuckin’ heathens”—his slurred speech barely makes it past chapped lips when you thrust into his quivering ass still sensitive from just now—“I—I wer’ fuckin’—right fuckin’ there!”

His curses are blots of encouragement on the spiral of lust entangling into a knot in your groin. The poor lieutenant claws at your hands—indecisive in asking you to stop or to keep going and with his hole stuffed and his dick weeping, you are sure to fuck him into overstimulation and more.

Fuck, if the scene before doesn’t do something to you as he sings for you and the man behind you takes his pleasure in you. Just as it should be, with your lovers in a lust fest that would put the trials of the Greek gods to shame.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist || kinktober masterlist || thanks @malewh0re for the request (love you mootie)

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cherryredstars · 10 months ago

Text

18+, NSFW, Boot Humping, Semi-Blowjob

Thinking about John Price and him making his cute, young girlfriend break in his new military boots before he goes off to deployment again :((

He's perched on the sofa, a beer bottle in hand as the television plays rugby at a low volume. The denim of his jeans stretches over his thighs, tightening at his knees as he spreads his legs wide. The hair on his upper body is exposed, chest covered in dark strands and a thick happy trail below the pudge of his stomach. He isn't even paying attention to you, eyes set on the tele as he sips from his beer every now and then. His bottom lip shines from the television light when he pulls the bottle away, tongue swiping over it to collect the beer.

The sight makes you whine, your hips moving over the top of his boot. You've completely soaked through your white panties, making them translucent as they stick to your cunt. The soft, frantic sound of fabric rubbing against leather is almost drowned out by the match and your noises, and John grunts whenever your whining gets too loud. Thin, white lines are scratched into John's jeans as you claw at them, trying to stabilize yourself as you hump his shoe. Your cunt drags against the material, streaks of arousal painting and softening the leather. Whenever your clothed clit grazes the rough ropes of his laces, you cry out, body jumping slightly. Your knees burn slightly from digging into the floor to sit over his shoe, but the slight pain is nothing compared to your desperate attempts to get off.

Your head rests on his leg, whining and moaning as you try to get the right angle and speed. When you turn your head you can see the defined outline of his chub straining against his pants, making your head dizzy. You can't help but whine, pawing at it as you move your hips. It makes John hiss, finally looking away from his game to look down at you.

"Please," you whimper up at him, your hand still pressing into his erection. Price chuckles, raising an eyebrow at you in question as he takes another sip of his beer.

"Please what, doll? Can't read ya' mind y'know," John teases, and his hand slides down your face, relishing the way you instantly lean into his touch with fucked-out eyes.

"I want it in my mouth, please," you practically cry. Your hips press harder into his shoe at the visual playing in your mind, and you almost cry out in joy when he gives you a lazy smile as he begins to unzip his pants.

His hand slips through the band of his jeans and boxers, fishing out his cock. He's thick with bulging veins and a mushroom tip that's red and leaking. He can't help the chuckle he lets out as your eyes stare at it half-mast. Your mouth parts slightly as he slowly pumps himself, getting himself nice and hard. You reach out, taking over as his hand pulls away. You press yourself against his leg, whining as you're only able to reach his tip from the position he's in. His leg stops you from moving any further as it presses hard against your chest, but if you were to readjust on his shoe, you would lose the perfect angle you're in to stimulate your clit. John groans as he watches you struggle to suck him off properly while riding his shoe, the rugby match long forgotten.

Your head bobs sloppily, whining around his tip as you try to lick up the precum that he leaks out. As your hips move, he slips from your mouth every now and then, causing you to repeatedly suck him back into your mouth desperately. John hisses, hand coming to tangle in your hair as he throws his head back with a curse. You can feel your peak approaching as you stare up at him, pulling away from his cock as you moan out. You refocus all your energy on bucking your hips, mouth dropped open and noises reaching a higher octave with each movement.

When your clit skids over his laces again, your body tenses up. Your nails sink into his thigh, trying to keep yourself steady as you finish. Your body jumps slightly, feeling more wetness spill into your panties. Your movements get slower as you try to ride out your high, panting heavily as you call out John's name. John has this dark, hungry look in his eyes as he watches you come down, his cock twitching. When your movements finally stop, you slump into his leg, cheek resting on his knee as you look up at him. John's hand comes down to you, petting your hair and you smile gently as you close your eyes.

But, right as you think you've finished your job, John yanks your hair so you look up at him.

"Don't get too comfortable, babe. Still got another shoe ya' gotta break in f'me."

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local-crying-boy · 7 months ago

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ℂ 𝕆 𝔻 𝕞 𝕖 𝕟 𝕙 𝕖 𝕒 𝕕 𝕔 𝕒 𝕟 𝕟 𝕠 𝕟 𝕤

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

What they do when their s/o passes out

Characters included: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, John ‘Soap’ MacTavish, Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, Captain John Price, Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra, Alejandro Vargas

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Lieutenant Quick On His Feet here

He’s quick to react when you start to wobble on your feet, or when you start to falter in the speed of your actions.

He stands by your side and either waits for you to pass out or for you to start to feel better.

^ He more so does this if you pass out frequently, if it’s not a common occurrence then he’ll hold onto your arm lightly as if he was support.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish

He’s the type to not expect you to pass out (even if it is an often occurrence and he knows that it is)

The minute he realised you’ve passed out, you’re legs have given up and he’s already cursing out trying to catch you before you hit the ground

Now, don’t worry for he is a sergeant and his reflexes are pretty good (most of the time). You’ve never actually injured yourself because he might have been a little too delayed in catching you

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Not as quick as Ghost in a way that Ghost is able to catch you before you hit the ground.

Gaz obviously isn’t about to let you hit your head, but it is a delayed reaction from him to the point where your knees have already given in and are about to hit the ground

He sits in the floor with you, your head on his lap if you’ve passed out once he gets to you.

He’d brush the hair from your face and quietly whisper that he’s there for you and that you’re okay, even if you can’t hear him and wait for your eyes to open again.

It’s a 50/50 chance you open your eyes to see a half-calm, half-panicked look on his face, or a opening your eyes to see him calm (but there’s something in his eyes that tells you his mf heart dropped).

Captain John Price

If you pass out when the two of you are at home, then he’s picking you up and setting you down on the sofa or bed (depending on where you passed out)

He’s mostly quick, like Ghost, because he rushes over when you give the slightest indication you’re about to pass out

You can thank the military for his wariness, but his wariness for you is a totally different thing

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parra

Quick just like the others (I know this sounds like a damn broken record with the amount of times I’ve wrote this), however, unlike the others the concern on his face is as clear as day. No point in hiding it, you know he cares enough about you

When you wake up again, he’s asking if you want anything, like if you have low iron he’s asking if he can get you anything to eat that might remedy that. It was because of the heat? Okay, he’s so fucking quick to ask if you need a drink.

Even if you don’t need a drink, or food, he’s grabbing it regardless. He cares so much about your well being, you wonder if he cares more about it than you do

Alejandro Vargas

Has a little mini heart attack. And (if you pass out regularly) even asks you if you’re trying to kill him with the amount of times you pass out

If it’s a less occurring thing, he’s less obligated to try and pick out little signs that you might pass out (because he wouldn’t really need to)

But if you pass out often, he is so quick to realise when you are feeling even slightly dizzy, or the first to realise when you’re stalling in your movements, sometime even before you realise!

This mf is like a mind reader too, it’s like he just knows. You don’t even have to say anything and he’s ushering for you to sit down before you pass out, hands on your sides as if you can’t walk without him

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woodensolefurniture · 1 year ago

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Living room sofa set

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urbanwood02 · 11 months ago

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urbanwoods56 · 10 months ago

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Best Sofa Sets for Modern Living Spaces

Urbanwood offers a wide selection of sofa sets to enhance your living room's ambiance and comfort. Our collection features diverse styles, from classic to contemporary, catering to various tastes and preferences. Whether you're looking for a sleek modern design or a cozy traditional sofa set, Urbanwood has options to suit every home decor. With competitive sofa set prices, we ensure affordability without compromising on quality or style.

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bharatfa · 1 year ago

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https://www.bharatfa.co.in/restaurant-chair-suppliers-bhubaneswar/

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fr0stf4ll · 3 months ago

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Forge of Starlight - Part 14

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 6.5k

warning; smut :)))

notes; Hey everyone, we are getting close to the end of the story, I'm glad that you guys are enjoying it. I love reading your comments <33 So tbh this is my first time writing this kind for "hum hum" content... So I really hope that you will enjoy this chapter ;))

here is the link for part 13 or part 15

---

Azriel stepped into the Town House, his mind still spinning from the confrontation with you. The door closed quietly behind him, but the weight of the conversation lingered heavily on his shoulders. He had hoped for a different outcome, but now he was left wondering if he had made the worst mistake of his life.

As he made his way into the living room, Cassian was lounging on one of the sofas, a glass of whiskey in hand. He looked up as Azriel entered, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“What are you doing here, Az?” Cassian asked, a teasing grin on his face. “Shouldn’t you be in the arms of your beloved blacksmith right now?”

Azriel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his expression filled with regret. “I might have fucked up, Cass.”

Cassian’s grin faded, replaced by a look of concern as he set his glass down. “What do you mean? What happened?”

Before Azriel could answer, Mor came striding into the room, her eyes narrowing as she took in the tension in the air. “What’s going on? Why do you look like someone just punched you in the gut, Az?”

Azriel hesitated for a moment before he finally spoke, his voice low and filled with guilt. “Y/N overheard me talking to Rhys. She knows we’re mates, and… I didn’t tell her. She’s angry—hurt, and I can’t blame her.”

Mor’s eyes widened in shock, and then, in a rare burst of emotion, she nearly screamed at him, “Azriel, are you serious? You didn’t tell her? How could you keep something like that from her?”

Azriel winced at the intensity of her reaction, but he knew she was right. He had messed up, and now he was paying the price for it.

Cassian, ever the voice of reason—or at least attempted reason—leaned forward, trying to keep the mood from completely spiraling. “Alright, let’s not lose our heads here. Az, it sounds like she just needs some time. It’s a lot to take in, and she’s been through so much already.”

Mor shook her head, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Time, sure. But what are you even still doing here, Azriel? You should be with her, apologizing, explaining—whatever it takes to make this right. You can’t just sit here and wallow in self-pity.”

Cassian nodded in agreement, though his tone was gentler. “She’s got a point, brother. You need to go back, talk to her again. Hell, get on your knees if you have to, but don’t just give up.”

Azriel looked between the two of them, torn between his own guilt and the advice of his friends. “I… I don’t know if she’ll even want to see me right now.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mor snapped, her voice firm. “You go back to her, and you don’t come back here until you’ve made things right. And Az, I mean it—you better not step foot in this house for the next few days. Focus on her.”

Cassian clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, offering him a small, encouraging smile. “You’ve got this, Az. Just be honest with her, and give her the time she needs. She cares about you—don’t forget that.”

Azriel nodded slowly, the weight of his friends’ words sinking in. He had messed up, but he wasn’t about to give up on you. He couldn’t.

“Thanks, both of you,” he said quietly, his resolve strengthening. “I’m going back. I’ll make it right.”

“Good,” Mor said, her tone softening slightly. “Now go, and don’t come back until she’s forgiven you.”

With that, Azriel turned and headed for the door, his heart heavy but determined. He knew he had a lot to make up for, but he was willing to do whatever it took to win back your trust.

As he left the Town House, he couldn’t help but think of you—alone, hurting, and confused. He had made a mistake, but he wouldn’t let it be the end of what could be something truly special between you. He would find a way to make things right, no matter what it took.

Azriel’s heart pounded in his chest as he made his way back through the quiet streets of Velaris, the cool night air doing little to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He had never felt so conflicted, so desperate to fix something that he wasn’t even sure could be mended. But he knew one thing for certain: he wasn’t going to give up on you. Not now, not ever.

The path to your apartment felt longer than usual, each step heavy with the weight of what had transpired between you. When he finally reached your door, he paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself. His mind raced with thoughts of what to say, how to explain, but in the end, he knew that words might not be enough. It was his actions that would have to speak for him now.

He raised his hand and knocked softly, his heart in his throat as he waited for you to answer. The silence that followed felt like an eternity, but then, finally, he heard the sound of your footsteps approaching the door.

His heart was pounding, a mix of regret and determination driving him as he looked into your eyes. The silence between you was heavy, but he knew he had to speak, to say what needed to be said.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion, “I’m so sorry. I know I should have told you about the bond. I should have trusted you with the truth from the beginning. I was wrong to keep it from you, and I can’t express how much I regret that.”

You looked at him, your expression guarded but not closed off. He could see the hurt in your eyes, but also the glimmer of something else—something that gave him a shred of hope.

“Azriel,” you said, your voice calm but firm, “why didn’t you tell me? I had to find out by overhearing a conversation. Do you have any idea how that felt?”

He flinched at your words, the pain in your voice cutting deep. “I was afraid,” he admitted, his voice low. “I was afraid of overwhelming you, of losing you before we even had a chance. I didn’t want to put more pressure on you after everything you’ve been through. But I realize now that I was wrong. You deserved to know the truth.”

You studied him for a moment, your gaze unwavering. “You should have trusted me to handle it, Azriel. You should have let me decide how to deal with it.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “You’re right. I should have. And I’m sorry that I didn’t. But I’m here now, and I want to make things right. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

There was a long pause as you looked at him, weighing his words. Finally, you stepped aside, opening the door wider. “Come inside, Azriel. We need to talk.”

Relief washed over him as he stepped through the doorway, his heart still pounding but with a renewed sense of purpose. You closed the door behind him, and he followed you into the living room, where the remnants of your evening lay scattered—a half-empty cup of tea, a blanket draped over the back of the couch.

You both sat down, the air between you still thick with unspoken words. Azriel watched you, waiting for you to speak first, wanting to hear what you had to say.

“I’m not going to lie,” you began, your voice steady, “I was really upset when I overheard you and Rhys. I felt… blindsided. But I also know that you didn’t keep it from me to hurt me. You were trying to protect me, even if it was the wrong way to do it.”

Azriel nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “That’s exactly it. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now that I should have been honest with you from the start.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you considered your next words. “I don’t know what this bond means for us, Az. I don’t even know how I feel about it right now. But I do know that I care about you, and that I’m willing to figure this out—together.”

A wave of relief washed over him, and he leaned forward, his voice soft but filled with conviction. “We’ll figure it out, Y/N. I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to make this right. I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

You looked at him, your expression softening slightly. “I believe you, Azriel. But this is going to take time. We need to rebuild the trust that was shaken tonight.”

He nodded, fully understanding the gravity of your words. “I’ll give you all the time you need. Just know that I’m not going anywhere.”

You both sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air. But there was also a sense of resolution, a quiet understanding that while things weren’t perfect, they could be mended.

Finally, you broke the silence, a small, tentative smile playing on your lips. “Would you like some tea? It’s not much, but it’s something.”

Azriel smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “Tea sounds perfect.”

You stood up and made your way to the kitchen, and Azriel followed, the distance between you feeling just a little bit smaller than it had moments before. As you prepared the tea, the normalcy of the moment brought a sense of calm to both of you.

When you returned to the living room with the tea, Azriel took the cup you offered and sat down beside you, the warmth of the cup a comforting weight in his hands.

Azriel sat on the couch, his heart still heavy with the weight of your earlier conversation. The tension between you had begun to ease, but there was still so much left unsaid, so much to work through. He watched you as you moved about the kitchen, your back turned to him as you prepared something else.

A few moments later, you returned to the living room, carrying a small plate with a slice of cake on it. You set it down on the table in front of him with a quiet smile.

“I, um, had planned to give you something to eat later,” you said, your voice soft but steady. “But since you came back so quickly, this is all I have for now.”

Azriel looked at the cake, then back at you, his heart swelling with emotion. The gesture, simple as it was, meant more to him than words could express. He could see the effort you were making, the tentative steps toward repairing what had been shaken between you.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and careful. “Does this mean… does this mean that you accept the bond?”

You met his gaze, and for a moment, there was only silence between you. Then, slowly, you nodded, your eyes softening as you reached out to take his hand in yours.

“I love you, Azriel,” you said quietly, your voice filled with sincerity. “I was hurt, yes, and I needed time to process everything. But the truth is, I’ve felt something between us for a while now. The bond… it’s just a name for what we already have. And yes, I accept it. I accept you.”

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat, his heart hammering in his chest as your words washed over him. He had been so afraid that he had lost you, that his mistake had been too much to overcome, but here you were, telling him that you loved him, that you accepted the bond that tied you together.

Without thinking, he set the cup of tea aside and pulled you into his arms, holding you close as a wave of relief and love washed over him. You leaned into him, your arms wrapping around his waist as you rested your head against his chest.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much.”

You smiled against him, the tension between you finally melting away as you allowed yourself to fully embrace what had always been there. The bond, the connection, the love—it was all real, and it was all yours.

Azriel pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “Thank you for giving me a second chance,” he said, his voice earnest. “I won’t let you down, Y/N. I promise.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin. “I know you won’t, Azriel. We’ll get through this together.”

He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours as he closed his eyes, savoring the closeness, the warmth of your presence. For the first time in what felt like days, he allowed himself to truly believe that everything would be alright.

After a few moments, you both pulled back, and Azriel’s gaze fell to the cake on the table. He chuckled softly, the sound full of warmth and affection.

“You know,” he said, a hint of teasing in his voice, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more grateful for a piece of cake.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and it filled the room with a sense of peace. “Well, enjoy it,” you replied with a grin. “It’s the least I could do after everything.”

Azriel picked up the fork and took a bite of the cake, savoring the sweet taste and the even sweeter feeling of being here with you, in this moment. When he looked back at you, his eyes were filled with love, the bond between you stronger than ever.

“You know, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice laced with affection, “I don’t need anything else. Just you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You smiled, your heart full as you leaned in to kiss him, the bond between you humming with contentment. “You have me, Azriel. Now and always.”

Whatever control Azriel had been holding onto snapped. In a swift movement, he lifted you into his strong arms, holding you close. Your breasts pressed against his chest, and your legs instinctively wrapped tightly around his waist. The intensity in his gaze was like a fire that had been smoldering for too long, finally unleashed.

He kissed you with a fervor that made your heart race, his lips claiming yours as if he couldn’t get enough. The kiss was deep, demanding, and you met it with equal passion, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him even closer.

“Gods, Y/N,” Azriel murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need. “I’ve wanted this—wanted you—for so long.”

“Azriel,” you breathed, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. “I want you too. So much.”

Azriel carried you effortlessly toward the bedroom, his wings flaring slightly behind him, adding to the sense of raw power that radiated from him. You could feel every muscle in his body as he held you, the strength and control that he usually kept so tightly in check now fully on display.

He pushed open the door with his foot, never breaking the kiss, and carried you inside. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting a silvery hue over everything. The air was thick with tension, the bond between you humming with anticipation.

Azriel set you down on the edge of the bed, his hands sliding down to your hips, gripping them firmly as he leaned in to kiss you again. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every moment, every taste of you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, his breath hot against your skin. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

You shivered at his words, the possessiveness in his tone sending a thrill through you. “I’m yours, Azriel,” you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion. “Always.”

His hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves of your waist, the swell of your hips, and the softness of your thighs. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire in your core that only he could stoke. You arched into his touch, your breath hitching as his fingers teased the hem of your shirt.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Azriel lifted your shirt over your head, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. His gaze darkened as he took in the sight of you, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples.

A gasp escaped your lips at the sensation, your back arching as you pressed yourself closer to him. Azriel’s lips curved into a wicked smile as he leaned down, his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, down to your collarbone, and finally, to your breasts.

“You drive me wild,” he murmured, his voice husky as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak as his hand massaged the other. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the ripple of muscles beneath his shirt. Without thinking, you tugged at the fabric, eager to feel his skin against yours. Azriel complied, pulling away just long enough to strip off his shirt before pressing his body against yours once more.

The feel of his bare chest against your skin was intoxicating, the heat of his body searing into you. You could feel the hard planes of his abdomen, the strength in his arms as he held you close, the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand.

Azriel’s mouth was on yours again, his kiss rougher this time, more desperate. His hands continued to explore your body, one slipping down to the waistband of your pants. He paused, his gaze meeting yours, silently asking for permission.

You nodded, your breath hitching in anticipation. “Please, Azriel,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “I need you.”

Azriel wasted no time, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs, leaving you bare before him. He stood back for a moment, his eyes raking over your body, his expression filled with a mix of reverence and hunger.

“Perfect,” he muttered under his breath, almost as if he was speaking to himself. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

Before you could respond, Azriel was on you again, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your stomach, stopping just above the apex of your thighs. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin there, his breath warm against you.

Your heart raced, your body trembling with anticipation as his lips moved lower, teasing you with feather-light touches that had you aching for more. When his mouth finally found its mark, you cried out, your hands fisting in the sheets as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

“Azriel,” you moaned, his name a desperate plea on your lips. “Please… don’t stop.”

He chuckled against you, the sound vibrating through your core. “I don’t plan to,” he murmured, his voice filled with wicked promise.

Azriel was relentless, his tongue and lips working you with a skill that left you breathless. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to push you to the edge and then pull you back, driving you wild with need. Your hips bucked against his mouth, but he held you firmly, keeping you right where he wanted you.

“You taste incredible,” he growled, his voice rough with desire. “I could do this all night.”

The sensations built, spiraling higher and higher until you thought you might shatter from the intensity of it all. And then, just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, Azriel slowed, his movements becoming more languid, more deliberate, drawing out your pleasure until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

He kissed his way back up your body, his lips lingering on every inch of skin, until he was once again face to face with you. His eyes were dark with desire, his breathing ragged as he looked down at you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “You’re everything to me.”

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands as you pulled him down for another kiss, your lips meeting his with a fierce intensity. The taste of yourself on his lips only fueled the fire inside you, your need for him growing stronger with each passing second.

Azriel’s hands were everywhere—on your breasts, your hips, your thighs—fanning the flames of your desire. You could feel the evidence of his own arousal pressing against your thigh, and the thought of what was to come sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

But even as the frenzy built between you, there was no rush, no hurry to reach the final act. This was about savoring the moment, about exploring each other’s bodies, about giving and taking pleasure in equal measure.

“Azriel,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with emotion. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he breathed, his voice filled with raw emotion. “More than anything.”

And with those words, you let yourself get lost in him—in the feel of his hands on your skin, the taste of his lips, the sound of his ragged breathing. You let the bond between you hum with energy, fueling your desire, guiding your movements as you and Azriel gave yourselves over to the intensity of the moment.

Azriel’s breath was hot against your skin, his kisses trailing down your neck as he murmured words of love and desire. Your body was already buzzing with the pleasure he had given you, but a new kind of hunger was stirring within you—one that demanded to be fulfilled.

You pushed him back slightly, meeting his gaze with a look that made his eyes darken even more. Without a word, you flipped him onto his back, straddling his hips as you leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. Azriel’s hands gripped your thighs, his touch possessive as he groaned into your mouth.

But you had something else in mind.

Breaking the kiss, you trailed your lips down his jaw, along the column of his throat, savoring the way his breath hitched with every touch. You continued your descent, your fingers tracing the hard planes of his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

“Y/N,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “What are you—”

You silenced him with a look, a wicked smile playing on your lips as you pressed a kiss to his sternum. “I want to make you feel good, Az,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry. “Let me take care of you.”

Azriel’s breath hitched again, his hands flexing on your thighs as he watched you with hooded eyes. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you cut him off, your tone firm but filled with affection. “Just relax.”

His eyes fluttered closed, his chest rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths as you continued your journey down his body. You took your time, kissing and caressing every inch of skin, savoring the way he shivered under your touch.

When you finally reached the waistband of his pants, you glanced up at him, your heart pounding with anticipation. Azriel’s eyes were on you, his gaze intense and full of need. With a slow, deliberate movement, you tugged at his pants, pulling them down along with his underwear, revealing the full extent of his arousal.

Azriel let out a low groan as he was freed from the fabric, his length hard and pulsing with need. Your eyes got bigger, seing that the rumors about wingspand were in fact accurate and wonder how that could fit in your mouth. You couldn’t help the way your mouth watered at the sight of him, your own desire flaring even hotter.

You wrapped your fingers around him, your touch firm but gentle as you stroked him slowly, watching his reaction. Azriel’s head fell back against the pillow, a shuddering breath escaping his lips as he surrendered to your touch.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice strained. “You’re going to drive me mad.”

“That’s the idea,” you teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of his length, earning a sharp intake of breath from him.

You didn’t waste any more time, your mouth closing around him as you took him in slowly, savoring the way he filled you. Azriel’s hips bucked slightly, a low curse falling from his lips as he tangled his fingers in your hair, his grip tight but not forceful.

You set a steady rhythm, your tongue teasing the sensitive underside of his length as you moved up and down, your hand working in tandem with your mouth. Every moan, every shiver that you drew from him only fueled your own desire, making you want to please him even more.

“Fuck,” Azriel hissed, his voice rough with pleasure. “Y/N, that feels—gods, you’re incredible.”

His praise spurred you on, and you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, reveling in the way he responded to you. Azriel’s breaths were coming faster now, his control slipping as you continued to work him with your mouth and hand.

“Please,” he rasped, his voice raw with need. “I’m not going to last if you keep that up.”

You glanced up at him, your eyes locking with his as you pulled back slightly, your tongue flicking over the tip of his length in a way that made him shudder. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

Azriel’s grip on your hair tightened, his gaze burning with desire as he watched you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

You smiled wickedly, your mouth and hand continuing their relentless assault on him. You could feel him starting to lose control, his hips bucking up into your mouth, his breathing ragged and desperate.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice strained. “I’m close—so close.”

You didn’t let up, your pace quickening as you pushed him closer and closer to the edge. Azriel’s entire body tensed, his muscles flexing beneath your touch as he teetered on the brink of release.

And then, with a low, guttural moan, he came undone, his release spilling into your mouth as he shuddered beneath you. You took it all, swallowing him down, your hand and mouth working to prolong his pleasure until he was a trembling mess.

When you finally pulled back, you looked up at him, your lips curled into a satisfied smile. Azriel was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to regain his composure. His eyes were half-lidded, dark with lingering desire as he gazed at you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “That was… incredible.”

You crawled back up his body, pressing a kiss to his lips, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you murmured, your tone teasing.

Azriel wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m not done with you yet,” he promised, his voice low and full of intent.

You shivered at the promise in his words, your own desire flaring up again at the thought of what was to come.

The night was far from over, and with the bond between you humming with energy, you knew that this was only the beginning of a night you would never forget.

Azriel’s eyes were still dark with desire as he looked at you, his chest rising and falling with the remnants of his release. But the hunger in his gaze told you that he wasn’t satisfied—not yet. The bond between you hummed with energy, pulling you closer, urging you to take this final step.

He rolled you onto your back with a swift movement, his body hovering over yours, his wings spread wide, casting shadows across the room. The intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, searing into your skin.

Azriel kissed you deeply, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a ferocity that took your breath away. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you with a mix of reverence and need. The feel of his roughened fingers against your soft skin sent shivers of anticipation down your spine.

“I need you, Y/N,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “I need all of you.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you nodded, your voice trembling with want. “Then take me, Az. I’m yours.”

A growl rumbled deep in his chest at your words, and he moved lower, kissing and nipping at your skin as he positioned himself between your thighs. The heat of his arousal pressed against you, and you felt a thrill of anticipation course through you.

He paused, his gaze locking with yours as he gently caressed your face, his touch filled with love and tenderness. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with an undercurrent of urgency. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your heart swelled at his concern, and you cupped his face in your hands, pulling him down for a slow, languid kiss. “I’m sure, Azriel. I want this—I want you.”

With a nod, Azriel positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours. Slowly, he began to push inside, the sensation of him stretching you inch by inch causing your breath to catch in your throat. He was big, and the way he filled you, inch by inch, made your toes curl in anticipation and pleasure.

“Gods,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he continued to press into you, the fullness of him overwhelming but intoxicating. “Azriel…”

He groaned as he sank deeper, his hands gripping your hips as he buried himself fully inside you. The stretch, the way he filled every part of you, sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You gasped, your fingers clutching at his back, your legs wrapping around his waist as you urged him to move.

Azriel began to move, his thrusts slow and controlled at first, as if he was savoring every moment, every sensation. The rhythm he set was steady, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. You met his thrusts, your body moving in perfect sync with his, the bond between you humming with energy.

“Gods, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. “You’re so tight… so perfect.”

His words sent a flush of heat through you, and you reached up, your hands trailing along the powerful muscles of his back until you found the base of his wings. The moment your fingers brushed against the sensitive skin there, Azriel shuddered, his thrusts faltering for a moment as a low, guttural moan escaped his lips.

“Y/N,” he gasped, his voice raw with need. “Touch me… right there.”

You did as he asked, your fingers tracing the edges of his wings, marveling at the way they trembled under your touch. The reaction was immediate—Azriel’s thrusts became faster, more desperate, as if your touch had ignited something primal inside him.

The connection between you sparked with an intensity that made your head spin. The pleasure built, spiraling higher and higher until you thought you might lose yourself in the sensation.

Azriel’s thrusts became more powerful, his hips driving into you with a force that left you breathless. The bed creaked beneath you, but you barely noticed, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside you.

You could feel the tension coiling in your lower abdomen, ready to snap at any moment. Your hands continued to caress his wings, your touch sending jolts of pleasure through him that matched the waves of ecstasy coursing through your own body.

“Azriel,” you moaned, your voice breathy with need. “I’m close… so close.”

“Me too,” he panted, his voice strained with the effort to hold himself back. “Gods, Y/N, you’re incredible.”

With one final, powerful thrust, the world around you shattered. Your climax crashed over you, your body tensing and then releasing all at once as you cried out his name. The sensation was so intense, so all-consuming, that you felt like you were floating, the bond between you and Azriel pulsing with shared pleasure.

Azriel followed you over the edge, his own release tearing through him as he shuddered above you. He groaned deeply, his wings trembling as he buried himself deep inside you, his body quaking with the force of his climax.

For a moment, the two of you remained intertwined, your bodies still connected as you both came down from the high. Azriel’s forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to steady himself.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with raw emotion. “I’ve never loved anyone like this before.”

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with love and contentment as you stroked his cheek. “I love you too, Azriel. So much.”

He kissed you softly, the touch of his lips gentle, almost reverent. The bond between you was stronger than ever, the connection solidified by the physical and emotional closeness you had just shared.

Azriel slowly pulled out of you, leaving you both feeling slightly empty yet completely fulfilled. He rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were lying on his chest, your bodies still tangled together.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of your breathing as you both lay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared experience. The night was quiet, peaceful, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt truly whole.

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. The bond between you was unbreakable, and with Azriel by your side, there was nothing you couldn’t overcome.

Well you wished you could have drifted off to sleep in the comforting embrace of Azriel, but the moment you felt his hand trailing down your back, you knew that the bat boy wasn’t ready to stop. The frenzy of the bond had a hold on both of you, and the desire that had been temporarily sated was reigniting with a vengeance.

Azriel’s lips found your neck, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your pulse. The heat of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel the tension building in his body once again. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you for even a second.

“Az,” you murmured, your voice trembling with a mix of exhaustion and renewed desire. “I thought… I thought we were done.”

He chuckled against your skin, the sound low and filled with promise. “We’re never done, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with the intensity of his need. “Not until you’re completely spent… not until I’ve had my fill of you.”

You couldn’t help the way your heart raced at his words, the way your body responded to his touch, despite the exhaustion that was beginning to settle in. The frenzy was overwhelming, but you knew there was no resisting it—not when every fiber of your being craved him as much as he craved you.

Azriel rolled you onto your back, his wings flaring out behind him as he looked down at you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. The sight of him like this—so strong, so powerful, and entirely focused on you—was enough to send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

“You’re insatiable,” you whispered, your voice breathless as you looked up at him.

“For you?” he growled, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. “Always.”

Without warning, Azriel spread your legs wider, positioning himself between them. The sheer size of him, combined with the intensity of his gaze, made your breath hitch in anticipation. He wasn’t going to hold back this time, and the thought of what was to come made your core clench with need.

He entered you in one swift, powerful thrust, burying himself deep inside you. The stretch, the fullness of him, was almost too much, and yet it was exactly what you craved. A cry of pleasure escaped your lips as he set a demanding pace, each thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body.

“Azriel!” you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as he pounded into you, his pace relentless. “Oh gods, yes… don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He drove into you with a fervor that made your head spin, the bond between you humming with the intensity of your shared pleasure. His wings flared out above you, the muscles in his arms and back flexing with every movement, a testament to his strength and stamina.

But it wasn’t just about the physical connection—it was the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered. The love and desire in his eyes were enough to take your breath away, to make you feel completely consumed by him.

As his pace quickened, you felt the tension coiling in your lower abdomen, ready to snap at any moment. Azriel leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with the same urgency as his thrusts.

“I love you, Y/N,” he growled against your lips, his voice rough with need. “Let go. I want to feel you shatter around me.”

His words were your undoing. With a scream of his name, you came undone, your body convulsing with the force of your climax. The intensity of it was overwhelming, your vision blurring as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

Azriel followed you over the edge, his release hitting him with such force that his wings trembled above you. He buried himself deep inside you, his body quaking with the strength of his orgasm as he groaned your name, the sound filled with raw emotion.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop, leaving only the two of you, locked together in the aftermath of your shared release. The bond between you pulsed with energy, sealing the connection that had been forged in the heat of the frenzy.

Azriel collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as he tried to catch his breath. His wings draped over you like a protective cocoon, his body warm and comforting against yours.

The way Azriel’s hands began to roam over your skin again, the heat in his gaze, told you that the night was far from over. The bond between you hummed with energy, still unsatisfied, still craving more.

As you looked into his eyes, a shiver of anticipation ran through you. The night was going to be long, and neither of you was ready to stop.

---

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