#Think like Roderick from

[peachywincest93]

Listen I love 90s grunge aesthetic Sam Winchester but something about like mid to late 2000s emo/scene Sam Winchester 😩makes me literally feral!!

[forgottenroderick]

Victorious | Roderick & Marian

Roderick reined his warhorse around, laughing as the stallion tossed his head. The black steed was decked out all in purple and gold finery, displaying the glorious charge of his imperial master, and Roderick, himself, was no less well adorned. His high helm and burnished armor gleamed fiercely in the sunshine and, beneath his helmet, the emperor was grinning as his adoring public cheered their revelry.

Holding his lance aloft, he rode the circuit once, twice, the fallen Sir Tristan saluting as he passed on his way out of the lists. It was a wonderful feeling, this, and Roderick roared with them before, finally, riding towards the stands where Guinevere crowned him victor of the day, later to receive his trophy from other hands.

Soon, he rode away to strip of his armor and bathe and return to the purpure robes of an emperor rather than the steel ones of a warrior. With the feast commenced, Amira was seated to his right as his senior wife, and Marian to his left. Pointedly leaning away from Amira as she began to address him, he turned to his other wife with a vibrant smile. He felt alive, tonight. The roar of the crowd thrummed beneath his skin and his blue eyes danced, bright, as he seized a glass of wine and sucked down its contents.

"I hope you enjoyed today's festivities, wife," he began. "I thought them thrilling enough from my vantage. I hope the spectacle diverted you, hm? Our son showed himself well today, did you not think? Though I knocked him down, myself, I was not disappointed. After all, the boy cannot yet hope to smite his father. I am not so very old yet."

[dykeza]

Jim Conklin (Tall/Spectral Soldier) The Red Badge of Courage you will always be famous (if I think about you for more than 5 seconds I will burst into tears)

[celestiamour]

ft. roderick heffley x f! reader — diary of a wimpy kid

╰₊✧ the alcohol made you do it, maybe the feelings too┊0.7k words

contains: smut!! dom reader & sub roderick┊slight dubcon due to intoxication, reader is a popular mean girl, roderick is whipped & whiny, unprotected piv, more plot than porn sorry

➤ author's note: how did roderick not have any maidens in the movies

“oh my god, could you be any fucking louder?!” you hissed. you couldn’t believe you were doing this, hooking up with a loser like roderick heffley. what would your friends think if they ever found out? they would probably exile you and tell everyone in the school, you’d never hear the end of it unless you moved to a different country or something.

���can help it,” he slurred, planting his face in between the valley of your breasts, “you’re so pretty…” everything about this altercation felt like a dream, so hammered that he couldn’t even think straight and in bed with one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen in his entire life. he wishes that he didn’t drink so much to remember this moment and treasure it, but he also knows that this wouldn’t have happened in the first place if he was any less buzzed.

all you could do was roll your eyes, but at least he was more quiet now that his moans were being muffled by your tits. the music blaring through the walls was loud, yet still not loud enough to drown out how noisy he was. this wasn’t something you typically did, but you were wasted and liked the way he looked at you, so here you were in his bed with his throbbing cock buried deep inside of you. 

“i can’t believe i’m doing this,” you sighed, rolling your hips into his and hearing him choke on a moan. “this is all your fault for throwing such a boring ass party.” his little brother and his friend managed to renew some of the fun, but they ended up falling asleep before midnight and the rest of the party was carried on by drunken antics. 

“‘m sorry…”

you let out a sound in exasperation at the pang of pity his apology left in your heart, gritting your teeth and closing your eyes for a moment so that you didn’t need to look at how pathetic he was. “it’s fine…” despite how cruelly you treated him at times, he was pretty easy on the eyes and not that bad of a fuck even if he’s clearly more inexperienced than you.

it’s actually kinda cute, you have to admit, how he looks up at you like you’re a goddess and touches you like he’s never seen a woman before. it gave you a rush of confidence that you’d never felt before, but in the end, he was just a hookup and this was the product of drinking too much. you don’t even get the satisfaction of “taming” the bad boy because he’s just some wannabe drummer of a shitty band whose music would make a deaf person beg for them to stop playing, one who chases skirts like a lost puppy and is known for being a flirt so terrible that not even the most desperate girls would be put off by his attempts of being cool.

and yet you’re still here on top of him, his hands digging into your thighs before you grab one of them by the wrist and direct them to rub at your clit, throwing him a bone by praising him for following your directions so obediently and feeling his cock twitch inside of you at your words. you could argue that it was the alcohol all you wanted, and maybe you have to thank it for initiating this contact, but you know deep down that it would have happened sooner or later whether or not you want to admit the infatuation growing over the past few years. you always acted as if you hated him when you truly hated his charm that shines through when he passionately plays his trash songs and his dopey smile every time you so much as looked his way.

you’ll think about all that later when you aren’t chasing your own orgasm and suffering from a banging headache. who knows, perhaps you’ll be able to coax a confession out of him and chalk it up to your friends as a pity date, they’ll believe it and probably encourage you to trick him into falling in love with you before breaking his heart. after all, you two are from completely different worlds, but you’ll make it work somehow.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Brat by Uzumaki Rebellion

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Spanking, Choking, Dom!Terry Richmond, BDE, Bisexual Female Partner, Compersion Fetish, BDSM Play, Urophilia/Watersports.

Summary: Sasha is a brat. On purpose. Now Terry is mad. Big mad.

Word Count: 6.7K

"I'm still, I'm still wet here tonight

So I will make you cum through the night

Will you touch me? Will you go deep in me?

I will in the sheets

I will, I will, I-I-I will"

Teyana Taylor – "WTP"

The cops were called to his home

Terry worked overnight duty on base, and his desk phone rang at ten-twenty. His neighbor Roderick, a fellow marine, hit him up with news that a noise complaint about his apartment brought out the local police. It was the second one that month.

"Your girlfriend has a bunch of women in your place again…the music is blasting and the cops are talking to her right now."

Terry rubbed his forehead. His jawline tightened. Sasha knew better than to have a bunch of people in his place when he wasn't there without letting him know about it ahead of time. He'd recently given her keys to his apartment six months ago as a reward for being a good girl. Here she was, fucking up the privilege already.

You see, Sasha is a brat.

On purpose.

It's a quality that titillates Terry, and yet it frustrates him, too. Sasha can't help it. Her nature is to be desirable, a supreme fuck, and well…a rule breaker.

Terry met Sasha at a wedding in Bayagoula Parrish, Louisiana. Both were part of the wedding party, he as a groomsman and she as a bridesmaid. He wore his military dress blues to match the groom. Sasha's beauty angered the bride who felt she eclipsed all the other women in the wedding party. He appreciated it because they'd been paired with different people to walk down the aisle, and he had the opportunity to watch her stroll in after him. Sasha displayed her shapely figure, which could be quite distracting. Her legs were fantastic, especially in heels and a high slit dress. She was top heavy too, and the off-the-shoulder dress made every attracted eye dart back and forth between thigh meat and the big juicy melons bouncing as she approached the altar. The tangerine orange of her dress enhanced the warm cognac color of her skin. He couldn't pull his eyes away from her. She was pure fap material for guys who couldn't pull her, which happened to be many at the reception. Samuel, who partnered walking down the aisle with her, strutted around thinking he was the shit with her displayed on his arm. But it was a wrap once Sasha lined her gaze with Terry's at the altar. Fireworks.

The two of them together oozed sex appeal and thoughts of sex. They complimented each other's energy. He had an assertive, domineering personality shaped by his years in the marines. Equal parts controlling and nurturing, he could overwhelm the ladies within seconds of meeting them. He already had the women there swooning over his voice. A gaze from his alluring eyes in any direction set hearts fluttering. Even the older women tee-heed with girlish enthusiasm interacting with him. He knew his power to attract and weaponized it as needed.

Sasha was a natural pleaser. Not to be mixed up with an overall people-pleaser, or a tiresome PickMe, her desire was to satisfy her lover, and they in turn would naturally gift her the moon, with a necklace of stars to match. She came off bubbly, warm, and endearing…the type of woman receptive to romance from an Alpha type. Male or female. He sensed she needed a little bit of spoiling with firm discipline to keep her in check. Pleasure and punishment. A heady combination he wanted to offer.

One bridesmaid joked about Terry and Sasha looking like human versions of Scar and Nala from The Lion King. His devilish green eyes and her equally cat-like eye shape gave testament to it. Their instant chemistry was like an electric current running through a socket. Everyone around them sensed the incredible magnetism they carried in proximity, like static electricity zapping them.

She sat down at the same table and immediately started flirting with Terry. After a few drinks, a deeper connection blossomed. Her voice turned him on. Everything sounded erotic the way she enunciated certain words, as if she wanted to make love to his ears. They chatted each other up, lightly touching hands and arms, whispering in each other's ears. Her breasts kept brushing against his arm, turning him on further as he fantasized about sucking on them with her sexy legs thrown over his shoulders. She brought out a feral competition in a lot of the men who interacted with her on the dance floor. What impressed him the most was how she complimented women there constantly, hyping them on their clothes and make-up. She was a girl's girl and danced with some who men passed over by streaking to the dance floor because the DJ was excellent. Sasha rallied a group of women into doing the YaYa, a Creole line-dance making a resurgence in those parts because of Beyonce's Cowboy Carter album.

He didn't want to get sweaty in his military uniform, but Terry couldn't resist a good, soulful line dance with a bunch of Black people. Bayagoula had some slim pickings for Black women since it was a majority white town, but since the bride was Black, Terry and a host of other Black soldiers hoped she had enough Black female friends coming to town available for some good times. He silently thanked the wedding planner for placing Sasha next to him. They shared a slow dance, and he loved having her breasts resting against his chest.

As the evening continued, they cozied up even more.

Sasha kissed him first right at the table. The lights in the venue had lowered for after-dinner partying, so Terry took advantage, purposely grazing his fingers against her right breast where he'd thrown his arm around her shoulder. Their table was empty and the dance floor was full tilt boogie. Nibbling on her earlobe, he whispered filthy things he wanted to do to her. He lowered his hand and slipped them up the slit in her dress, sliding her panties aside, fingering her with shallow thrusts. She let him finger fuck her, begging for him to go deeper.

Sasha started playing with Terry's dick under the tablecloth. Everyone else was too drunk and too occupied with dancing. No one paid attention to them. She got his dick so stiff that he dragged her to the nearest restroom and fucked her. Lifted her onto the sink, hiked up her dress, unfastened the upper part of her dress and released tits he now adored. It didn't take long for him to spill into the condom. Their foreplay at the table had them rearing to go.

His dick was too big and heavy to fit all the way inside her pussy. The last two inches, visible at the root, moved up and down as he ejaculated. He loved how she handled his meat. He packed so much length that her pussy squirted from the pressure of being stretched to capacity. She peed on him, too. He pinched her big nipples, obsessing over them already.

"I'm taking you home with me," he said.

His dick kept pulsing cum, and he shivered as the last orgasmic surge pushed through his dick. Even his nut sack jumped at the pleasure of release. Sasha gave off soft babygirl energy, and he wanted a woman like that. He'd only known her for five hours and already claimed her as his.

"Okay," she said, with her legs draped over his arms.

Terry turned her around and lifted her breasts. He watched his reflection in the mirror bounce them in his hands, getting off on the weight and size. His dick finally started going down, and Sasha peeled the condom off. He turned to urinate in the toilet and she held his dick for him, guiding the stream into the bowl.

"You like watching me do that?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Hmmm, into watersports?"

Her sloe eyes twinkled with delight.

"I used to watch my brother's college friends pee in our backyard when they were drunk. The sight of dicks out in the open like that…squirting everywhere…yummy. I get wet just thinking about it."

"What if I pissed on you? Would you like that?"

"Yes, Daddy…I would play with my pussy while you did it."

He grinned. She already understood his expectations. He whispered in her ear that he wanted a good girl, an obedient one, and she knew exactly what he meant. A submissive that catered to her man.

She shook his dick and used one of the soft paper towels to clean his tip. Then she dropped to her knees and sucked him off for a final cleaning. He wanted to bust a load on her face, but they'd been in the restroom long enough.

He scooped her up and drove back to his apartment.

They began a committed relationship soon after.

Terry dominated her life. Told her what to wear, what to cook for them when he worked hard all day supporting them both. Sasha flitted from part-time job to job like a bee gathering pollen whenever she was bored, not in a rush to find a career like Terry had done. He was a big bad marine with a jacked body, a tatted sleeve down one arm, and a sculpted face. He liked her being home, and she liked being there spoiled by him. His pay grade and rank allowed him to provide a comfortable life for her.

There were other rules, of course.

The apartment had to be pristine clean and her pussy had to be ready when he came home. He dealt with loud, tense, funky, gritty, and abrasive men all day. His home had to reflect the opposite vibe, and he needed to sink into her softness in the evening.

She greeted him at the door after work, looking dreamy in heels and clothes he liked to see her in, like short skirts and sexy dresses to show off those legs. With a cocktail in hand and deep welcoming tongue kisses, Sasha played her role. He brought home flowers every Friday, and at least once a week he bought her presents. She liked bracelets and expensive perfumes in fancy little bottles. He bought her books on whatever new hyper-fixation she had. One month it was soap-making. Another month it was origami, and he suffered through an apartment full of little flying cranes and odd-shaped butterflies. It made him feel good to bring her something special just to witness the sparkle in her eye and the squeal she let out each time. That was often more arousing than foreplay.

On the weekends, when he had to stay on base or travel out of state for additional work-related training, they agreed that she could have a female lover over for girl time. They'd brought other women into their bedroom on various occasions, and Terry sat next to Sasha as she had sex on the king-sized bed. He never indulged in the other women with her, preferring to watch and jerk off. Some might say he was a cuck, but that wasn't it. He had a compersion fetish. Sasha's happiness at having him as a boyfriend and still indulging in sex with another woman gave him pleasure mentally. It stimulated him, no doubt, to watch his woman go at it with another beautiful woman, but he never did a threesome by sticking his dick in someone else. Sasha was enough woman for him, plus, not every outsider was into the things that he liked to do to her. Like breath play with choking, and of course, the golden showers.

Sasha played the submissive well, pampering herself during the day in preparation for his coming home. Terry gave strong Daddy energy, and it brought out the softness in her. His father raised him to be a stern patriarch and southern gentleman. Women were to be taken care of and the expectation was for them to please their men like sweet southern belles.

Sasha was sweet and one hundred percent southern…but a brat, nonetheless. And brats don't always do what you tell them.

She'd purposely leave crumbs in the kitchen for him to find after work. Or she'd forget to make the bed the way he liked. Sometimes she ordered take out instead of making him the home-cooked meals he expected. That's when Terry would fume and take off his belt, lifting her up and taking her into the bedroom to get spanked until her ass cheeks were a deeper shade. When he finished striking her backside, he'd rub cooling blue gel all over her rump, simultaneously soothing her and chastising her.

"Why do you make me do this to you?" he'd lament. "You know I don't like punishing you. I want to come home and have peace. You're my peace, Sasha."

Those searing green eyes would narrow and his brows stayed furrowed, correcting her behavior.

She loved that shit.

However, on the day he had to leave for a weekend base stay several hours before Roderick called him about the police at his place, Sasha (purposely):

1. Forgot to pick up his dry cleaned dress blues on time the night before when he asked.

2. Tossed his clean clothes in drawers without folding them.

3. And God forbid, mixed his unpaired socks in his underwear drawer.

His jaw grew rigid, and he spoke to her through gritted teeth.

"Didn't we talk about this?" he said with an exasperated tone.

"Who cares? Everything is clean. I'll get your dry cleaning today. Don't have a cow," she said, scrolling through pages of fashion on her tablet, hoping he'd snap.

He always took the bait.

His hand went gently around her throat, and he pushed her against the wall.

"What did I tell you about talking to me like that?"

A dangerous smirk twisted his lips to the side. Sasha pouted.

"It won't kill your clothes to not be perfect. I washed and dried them and put them away. That's good enough. Deal with it."

"You know we have to have order in this home. I tell you this every day, Sasha, an orderly home denotes an orderly mind. Fix it."

"You fix it."

He sighed and glanced over at the clock on the wall. His work day started in thirty minutes. He had to be on base in fifteen or risk being late. That was simply a no-no.

"Go straighten out those drawers," he insisted, with more bass in his voice.

He pushed her toward the dresser and hurriedly went to their walk-in closet to grab and fold his old dress blues. He liked to have them on him in case the upper brass needed him to appear ready at a moment's notice for any occasion. His new uniforms needed cleaning before he would wear them. Sasha strolled past their bureau.

"Sasha, I'm not playing!"

He buttoned up the shirt of his duty uniform. She sashayed toward the bedroom door, switching her hips in her babydoll nightie, big titties bouncing, not having any plans for the day except eating chocolate bon bons and shopping online or doing whatever she wanted at her whim because he wanted her to.

"Sasha!"

She ignored him. He snatched her up, throwing her across his lap on the bed. Yanking her nightie up, he pulled the matching panties down and swatted that ass. He gave an even number of spanks on each cheek, careful to soothe as well as punish so as not to harm her tender skin. She yelped and refused to apologize for back talking, making him more upset…and his dick hard.

He added some harder smacks under the jiggling booty cheeks, and she got the message, jerking on his lap and hissing from the sting of genuine pain settling in. He held her down with one arm and heated that ass up, stopping before she needed their safe word. Her disobedience and disrespect resulted in an unscheduled spanking session today, although they had scheduled sessions for weekdays and weekends.

He refused to use the cooling gel on her. She needed to feel the pain of punishment for at least an hour. He'd give her more after he returned home from work.

Terry looked down at his protruding dick nearly blasting a hole through his work pants. Sasha stared at it too, licking her lips. This was what she wanted. He'd ignored her earlier in bed when she wanted dick at four in the morning. The night before, he'd dragged home exhausted from combat drills. He chose to crash out instead of pleasing her. Her hand rubbed on his muscle-toned thighs and traced lines on his tatted bicep, but he was not in the mood.

She chose to make him late. Just to get back at him. He came harder when he was angry or irritated. Down went his zipper… and her knees. He fished out his dick and stroked hard and fast.

"Selfish little brat," he barked. "Making me fucking late!"

She pulled down her nightie, revealing his weakness, and he stared at her breasts. He moaned out loud when she plucked at her nipples and circled her pretty manicured nails around the edges of her dark areolas, reminding him visually of how big they were, and how much he loved that about her.

Pre-cum spilled out of his deep slit, and she used it as a lubricant to tease around her sizeable nipples that stood out like fat, juicy blueberries. His sack was heavy with cum. Sasha licked her lips. Smacked those big melons together, and he blew his load all over her pretty face. She brushed back her wild, wavy hair and continued shaking her titties for him.

He panted and shot another hot rope across her tongue. She jumped up and placed herself on the bed, spreading open her labia for him to see the wet pink of her dripping pussy.

"Fucking slut!"

His eyes became mere slits of angry jade. He grabbed his cell and called his boss while shaking off his pants. A credible lie fell out of his mouth as he plunged into her. He bought an hour pretending to have a dead battery in his car. Tossing the phone on the bed, he fucked Sasha as deep as she could take unsheathed. He grunted, and she threw her arms across his shoulders, satisfied that she got what she wanted.

Anger guided his thrusts. When he started getting too aggressive, he switched to eating her pussy. That helped calm him down. She was insatiable. He should've paid more attention to that quality about her after the first night he fucked her. Sasha loved his dick and craved it at all hours.

Terry sucked and licked her clit, forcing breathy moans out of his woman. She rocked and rolled her hips, her vulva laid out like a summer nectarine: smooth, juicy and sweet. Sasha soaked his lips and chin. His facial hair became a sticky mess with her excess.

He spooned her on his side and parted her cheeks with his dick alone, sliding in and stretching her properly. Terry fondled a breast and pounded her down until that juicy pussy clenched around him. He kept fucking because he knew she needed more.

"Oh, Daddy! I'm sorry! Don't punish me like this!" she screamed, clutching onto the covers.

She wasn't sorry. She wanted that deep Daddy dick.

Sasha said it like a mantra over and over, "Oh Daddy…I'm sorry! Oh, Daddy…I'm sorry! Oh, Daddy…"

He groaned and hit the side of her walls to really make her feel it, and spurt a geyser of cum, still angry that he was late. But busting a nut that hard was worth it in the end. She gasped, her legs jerking wildly at the intensity.

Rising from the bed, he looked down at his brat. She took her fingers and peeled back her labia, letting him see the big creamy mess he made inside of her.

"Wait until I get home Sunday!" he snapped, lifting his pants from the floor.

She pissed him off.

And he let her.

He grabbed his small work duffle, and the garment bag he stuffed his old uniform in and slapped her thigh.

"Fix those clothes in the drawers," he grumbled.

After he left, she teased him mercilessly with several bathroom selfies of her voluptuous breasts and pancake areolas. Her big nipples stuck out hard, and she knew he would suffer at work seeing them all weekend and unable to touch them. During his lunch break, he went into a restroom stall and recorded himself urinating. Using his pelvic muscles, he made his dick twitch and spill urine on the seat. His penis was still big while flaccid, and moving it as he splashed into the toilet would excite her. He shot off the clip to her and later, during another break in his car, she sent him video clips from her smartphone of herself fingering her wet pussy and sucking on her nipples while she watched his video on her tablet. Sex was their shared passion. Their best form of communication.

"You were mean to me today," she texted afterward.

He jerked off in the car, re-watching her squirt all over herself. His dick was the object of her affection when she watched him piss. To her, it was just as sexy as watching him ejaculate semen. It came from inside of him, therefore it was precious to her.

She sent more photos of herself looking down at the phone with her breasts hanging with her tongue partially sticking out. He fucking loved her, and immediately sent her a sweating face emoji with hearts, and couldn't wait to fuck her like a goddamn wild man.

Back at work, he did some emergency drills and then took his place at the duty station, overseeing lower ranked soldiers.

Roderick's phone call shattered the routine of his evening. He couldn't leave work to deal with her, so he had to suffer the entire weekend.

Sasha didn't know that Roderick notified him of the cops. She kept sending him loving texts. Asked him what he wanted for supper on his return home.

"I picked up your uniform, and I organized the drawers properly, Daddy," she texted.

He ignored it, pretending to be busy.

She never mentioned having a gathering at his place that weekend. Technically, it was their shared residence, but his name was the only one on the lease. That meant any problems that occurred with the cops reflected on him in the complex. It wasn't a rarity to have the police called around there for noise ordinances. It was predominately military living there, so close to the base. Lots of parties occurred. But he'd never had them called on him until Sasha moved in. He didn't want that reputation, and he didn't want to dump her like he did his last girlfriend, who stayed out of pocket with him until he had enough. She was disobedient in other ways, but not enough to bring the authorities his way. His reputation and moral character around town was everything to him. He'd hate to let go of amazing pussy and fat titties. Terry was already thinking of putting a ring on Sasha's finger after only six months of being together. Babygirl was that perfect.

Except for when she acted out in ways he didn't like.

Sunday couldn't come fast enough.

He'd have Monday and Tuesday off. Plenty of time to course correct Sasha.

After showering and shaving on base, he drove to his complex in the early evening without telling her the exact time he was coming back.

He crept up the stairs to his second floor. The onsite apartment manager taped another yellow noise complaint notice to his door. He pulled it down and read the warning while sliding his key in. Stepping inside, the living room lights were off, but the bedroom and hall lights were on. She'd cooked something because the odor of something good still wafted in the apartment. He kicked off his shoes, already upset that she wasn't there to greet him.

Dropping his bags and the warning notice on the couch, he padded to their master bedroom.

Sasha was sucking down another woman's box on his bed.

Jasmine.

Both women were oblivious to him being there.

Terry sat down on the side chair in the room facing the bed and watched them go at it. Sasha had a small vibrator inserted into her vagina that also stimulated her clit. It was a cute little pink toy that hummed along to their sex play. His irritation from the notice simmered in the back of his mind. It took him a few minutes to settle into watching his woman and her side piece. Their moans and soft murmurings lulled him into arousal.

He started playing with his dick, pulled it out all the way along with his balls. Smearing pre-cum all around the bulbous head, he took slow strokes up and down, staying underneath the thick ridge. Sasha's pussy looked so pretty, with the pink toy snug inside of her. Her lover thrashed her head back and forth. He fisted his dick faster, smacking on his balls, wishing her pussy could go all the way down on him.

Jasmine came in Sasha's mouth and his lady love's pussy throbbed with a powerful orgasm. Sasha smacked her lips and moaned as her pussy took the internal vibrations. She glanced over her shoulder.

"Daddy," she sputtered, shocked to see him sitting in the room.

Jasmine lifted on her elbows and grinned.

Terry stood and dragged Sasha by her foot to the end of the bed. He pulled out the small vibrator from her pussy and jammed the tip of his dick against her vulva and nutted all over it. Sasha squealed with delight at the man-handling and Jasmine stared with envy. She longed to suck and fuck him, but that would never happen.

"Come lick up his cum," Sasha said.

She smeared it all over her clit and Jasmine settled between her thighs, lowering her head to lick like a cat lapping up milk.

Terry pulled off the rest of his clothes. Sasha kept her eyes locked on his, ignoring Jasmine licking her way to glory. When most of his semen went down Jasmine's throat, he climbed onto the bed. Jasmine scooted over, giving his large body precedence. His dick bobbed and Sasha whimpered in expectation.

"So glad you're home," Sasha said.

Terry carefully placed his thumb and fingers on the sides of her neck. She relaxed under him.

"Jasmine, I think it's time for you to go home," he said.

Sasha blinked twice and her eyes darted over to Jasmine, disappointed that he didn't want their favorite voyeur staying for their lovemaking.

"Now, Jasmine."

Jasmine quickly left the room. They heard her scramble into her clothes and leave the apartment.

"What's wrong?"

He liked the hesitant tone in her voice. It threw her off.

"Do you enjoy living here with me, Sasha?"

She tried to sit up. He held her down by the throat. Still gentle, but gripped tight enough to let her know she wasn't getting up. Pushing his tip into her, she sucked in a breath and he squeezed the sides of her neck, careful to count out the seconds she could handle before easing the pressure. The opening of her pussy throbbed around him. He slowly pushed in, each inch parting her slippery walls. Jasmine made Sasha frothy and wide open for him. He stopped and squeezed her neck again, giving shallow thrusts and counting to her limit before releasing the controlled grip.

"Can we keep going? Do you need a break?"

"No Daddy, I can take it a little more. I'll tap you when to stop."

He pushed in to her limit, thick and heavy. Her pussy lips looked like a swollen vise around his girth, with the last of his inches unable to go in. Each time he pushed forward or pulled back, she gripped him with her walls, giving him the friction he dreamed about all weekend waiting to come home.

He began fucking her slowly, his hand clamped on her neck.

"Ready?"

She nodded and he pressed his fingers in again with gentle pressure, heightening her pleasure. Her eyes went glassy with lust. Although he choked her with their breath play, her pussy choked his dick and he released her neck to rock his hips into her with a steady rhythm.

"You feel so fucking good…taking care of Daddy's dick…"

He started kissing her, thrusting his tongue in her mouth, letting hers slide against his until the erotic sensation of their lips feeling raw and sensitive to the connection overtook him. Kissing her was life itself. He pulled back from her, still stretching her pussy, but not pumping into her.

"Roderick called me about the cops being here again. There was a warning notice on the door. What do you have to say about that?"

Her eyes widened, and she bit her bottom lip.

"How come you didn't tell me before I left about having people over here?"

"It was impromptu. A few friends, and then…a few more friends of friends…it was a wine and cheese thing and then…the cops showed up."

Terry pulled all the way out of her and left the bed.

"Do we have to talk about this now? Can we finish this and talk later?"

She breathed heavily, upset that his dick wasn't plowing her.

"What do you think will happen if I get another notice?"

She pressed her lips together for a second.

"It won't happen again. I promise."

"You said that last time two weeks ago."

"You won't have to worry. If I want to have a gathering again, I'll do it at Jasmine's. Please, Terry, don't be upset."

"What do I like more than anything at home?"

His hard dick pointed toward her and Sasha's eyes kept losing track of his face by focusing on his erection she wanted back in her guts.

"Peace and calm."

"My neighbor shouldn't be calling me about you. That means it disturbed him, too, and probably a lot of other people. If I get a third notice, the manager will break my lease. You know what that means? He can ask me to move. I picked this complex because it's close to my job. The job that takes care of you, and allows you to be my good girl. You've put our housing in jeopardy. Before I left for work, you were acting out and I didn't have time to really put you in your place. I've been super busy this past month and I think I've been letting you get away with too much. But I'm going to get back to proper discipline. No physical contact at all."

Her mouth dropped open.

"What?" she said.

"Spanking won't do this time. You don't get to have me until I think you get your behavior together."

He walked to his side of the bureau and pulled out lounging pants and a t-shirt. He strolled into the bathroom. She followed with panic in her eyes. He stretched his back and stood in front of the toilet. She reached for his dick to help him urinate, but he slapped her hand away.

"No," he said. "You don't even get to watch."

He arched an angry eyebrow, and she pouted. He ignored her breasts and the fat pussy he'd just been inside of that enticed him to cave.

"Out!"

She scuttled away like a little crab who sensed danger on sand.

He relieved himself and changed into his house clothes.

"I would like my dinner in half an hour," he called out.

He went into the spare bedroom where he set up a mini-gym and desktop computer. He checked sports updates before opening a porn app. His balls ached wanting to cum inside Sasha, but he searched for Black women masturbating and found one using a vibrator with large pussy lips that excited him. Fisting himself, he left the door open so Sasha could hear him and seethe. She slammed the kitchen cabinet doors and let some silverware clatter onto the table to show her anger at not getting his dick. He chuckled.

"Fix that attitude. This is your fault for being irresponsible," he called out.

His porn play pal had nice tits and a soft belly. He came into his hand.

"Your dinner is ready," Sasha called out.

He cleaned his hands in the bathroom and walked into the dining area with his mouth salivating. Smothered chicken and rice with French green beans drenched in garlic butter. Homemade and piping hot.

"This looks good, baby. Thank you."

He sat down and she sat across from him. They said grace together, and he stuffed his face, licking his fingers and complimenting her cooking. That perked her up, and yet she still stared at his chest in the tight T-shirt, and admired the sleeve tats.

He punished her for a month.

Sasha stayed on her A-game. Clean house. Clothes put away properly. Bed made so perfect that he could bounce a quarter on it. Uniforms pressed and already placed in his garment bag. She'd gone to the apartment manager and explained the situation with the loud party. Sasha claimed to be his house sitter who didn't know the rules about no loud noises after nine at night. Terry was pretty sure she jiggled her tits and flirted with the male manager. Her legs in some stiletto heels would do the trick easy. The manager actually ignored the second noise warning…and the first, clearing Terry's apartment record.

In bed, she suffered from wanting to curl under or around him, but he stayed on his side with his back to her. She knew better than to seek out Jasmine for respite. It wouldn't be a satisfying, playful romp when she yearned only for her man's affections. She thought it best to accept the dry spell.

Meals…impeccable.

Cocktails at the door…refreshing.

Terry slowly started showing her physical affection with a kiss on the cheek goodbye in the morning. He brought home flowers and gifts again with kisses on the forehead.

He ended her punishment by walking into the bathroom as she smoothed unscented body butter all over her naked body after a shower. She stared at him in the mirror as he stood behind her. He circled his hand around her throat, forcing her to turn her face to the side so he could kiss her.

Sasha moaned into his mouth and broke into tears of joy.

"I won't disappoint you gain," she whispered into his mouth.

"That's all I want from you, baby. Follow my rules."

He continued kissing her, lifting those glorious breasts.

"Will you fuck me now?" she pleaded.

"Of course."

Sasha whimpered at the deep rasp of his morning voice. She leaned forward, and he entered her. Cupping her breasts, he fucked her hard and fast. Her pussy squelched, and she cried, her tears of happiness wetting her face.

"I'm sorry, Daddy…sorry, Daddy…sorry, Daddy…!"

"Pussy so fucking good…I missed these big titties…tight pussy…oh babygirl…fuck Daddy's dick!"

He studied her expression in the mirror.

"Want Daddy to punish this pussy?"

"Yes!"

"Take this dick then…take it…take it babygirl…oh you're taking it deep…oh shit! Oh, shit!"

She still couldn't take him in all the way, but it truly felt like he got in deeper than he'd been before. Her eyes looked up to the ceiling, then rolled back. She squirted everywhere, soaking his dick.

He ejaculated hard enough to make him lift onto his toes. He dropped to his knees to smother his face in her ass and pussy, wanting to feel the back rush of his cum dripping out of her.

His bladder poked at him. He drank an extra glass of water for the occasion.

"Get in the tub, baby," he said.

Sasha yelped with excited anticipation. She climbed into the tub and he handed her a towel that she folded as a knee cushion. Once she was comfortable, he rested his balls on her mouth and she sucked them while playing with her clit and pussy lips.

"Let me hear that wet pussy, Sasha."

She flicked her clit and used her three middle fingers. He stared down at her, reaching for a heavy breast.

"You ready, baby?"

She hummed with his nuts in her mouth.

"You'll be my dirty little slut? Huh, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy…yes, I'll be your dirty little slut…"

"Oh, let me hear that pussy talk, Sasha!"

Sasha whimpered, and her tone was on the edge.

"Daddy's 'bout to give you what you want…get ready…oh…get ready…"

"I'm still your good girl!"

Her tongue slid up and down the underside of his dick, her words warm on his skin.

"Sasha…baby…fuck…dirty little slut letting me do whatever I want!"

Terry took a step back, and Sasha kept pleasuring her pussy. She tilted her head back. A hot stream of urine flew out of him and splashed all over her breasts. Holding his release for a longer period made the sensation of voiding his bladder sweeter. It felt almost as good as an orgasm soaking her.

Sasha's glassy eyes looked far away. She was in her pleasure zone, cumming so hard she couldn't even speak anymore. He drained himself all over her tits, and she slumped back with loud pants.

"Goddamn, that was fucking good!" he shouted to the ceiling.

His aftercare was tender with her.

He used the shower nozzle to rinse her off first before he cleaned her with honeysuckle body wash. Helping her stand up, he rubbed her vulva, thighs and backside, then lathered up her tits. He rinsed her off, then stuck the nozzle back up high and joined her in the shower for a long rinse with hotter water. They kissed as heat steamed around them, his arms cradling her.

"I don't like punishing you like that. It hurt me not to touch you for a month, baby," he hummed in her ear.

She hugged him tight.

Back in their bedroom, they made slow love on the bed. She rode him and he praised her…worshipped her body.

"I love you, Sasha."

"I love you, too, Terry. I want to make you happy."

"I want to make you happy every day. You're really the boss of me. Everything I do is for you."

"I know. I'm yours, Daddy. Let me take care of this dick."

He held his legs wide open, and she rode him backward, perched between his thighs at an angle. He let her slide up and down to the depths she could take and watched her pussy work his length. She slid back to sit on his face, where he slathered her folds with a wide, wet tongue.

They finished with him on top of her, declaring his undying love. He came all over her breasts, and hugged her tight under the covers, playing with her nipples and making plans for their future.

Terry cooked them a late brunch and cleaned the kitchen himself. Sasha washed clothes and looked up a movie for them to go see. All was well until he went to his sock drawer and found unmatched pairs with underwear mixed in.

"Sasha!"

She sauntered in, carrying one of his belts folded in her hand.

"Shall I assume the position?" she teased.

"Once a brat, always a brat," he said.

He chased Sasha around the room until he caught her, snatching the belt away and pushing her down on his lap.

Terry taught her a new lesson.

And, of course, she loved it.

Tag List:

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[amphibious-thing]

Historical queer language is so interesting to me and one word that has caught my attention is inclination. So here is a non-exhaustive list of the word inclination being used to describe same-sex love or same-sex sexual attraction from the late-17th century to the early-19th century. I intentionally wanted to get some variation, some of these examples are from love letters, some are from fiction of the period, one a trial record and one a petition to decriminalise sodomy.

Then Rigby kist Minton several times, putting his Tongue in his Mouth, and taking Minton in his Arms, wisht he might lye with him all night, and that his Lust was provoked to that degree, he had — in his Breeches, but notwithstanding he could F[uck] him; Minton thereupon said, "sure you cannot do it here," "yes," answered Rigby, "I can," and took Minton to a corner of the Room, and put his Hands into Mintons Breeches, desiring him to pull them down, who answered "he would not, but he (Rigby) might do what he pleased"; thereupon Rigby pulled down Mintons Breeches, turn'd away his shirt, put his Finger to Mintons Fundament, and applyed his Body close to Mintons, who feeling something warm touch his Skin, put his hand behind him, and took hold of Rigbys Privy Member, and said to Rigby "I have now discovered your base Inclinations, I will expose you to the World, to put a stop to these Crimes";

~ The Trial of Capt. Edward Rigby 1698

One of these girls tied Monsieur [a dildo] to her middle, To try if she the Secret could unriddle: She acted Man, being in a merry Mood, Striving to please her Partner as she cou’d; And thus they took it in their turns to please Their lustful inclinations to appease.

~ Monsieur Thing's Origin (1722)

I am this moment come from Richmond, but late as it is, your absence allows me too few pleasures for me to neglect any opportunity of taking so sensible a one as that of writing to you. You are by this time at Redlynch, and finding your park wall advanced, the foundations of your new building laid, your slopes improving, your puddles filling, and your plantations thriving. 'Tis possible your joy for these changes without doors may banish all the pain I flattered myself you would feel for one you will find within. If I should guess right, at least have the charitable dissimulation to swear I do not, and sacrifice your sincerity to my vanity; rather than give me the mortification of thinking you did not sacrifice your inclination to your business, when you left the place where I was, for any other. Walk often through "Hervey Grove", and now and then visit the ash by the pas-glissant....

~ Lord Hervey to Stephen Fox, 18 June 1728

Nay, I have been told, that there is another motive perhaps more powerful than all these, that induces people to cultivate this inclination; namely, the exquisite pleasure attending its success.

~ Earl Strutwell's defense of sodomy in The Adventures of Roderick Random by Tobias Smollett (1748)

Ternant will relate to you how many violent struggles I have had between duty and inclination—how much my heart was with you, while I appeared to be most actively employed here—

~ John Laurens to Alexander Hamilton, July 14, 1779

Alas! why am I not with you; Why can I not pass at least one or two nights of the week in your company_ It is necessary to hope that a time will come when I will be more able to follow my inclination_ and if this time comes I will be certainly more often with you my loveable friend.

~ Baron von Steuben to General William North, 11 November 1789 (translated from french)

Anne sat by my bedside till 2. I talked about the feeling to which she gave rise. Lamented my fate. Said I should never marry. Could not like men. Ought not to like women. At the same time apologizing for my inclination that way. By diverse arguments made out a pitiful story altogether & roused poor Anne's sympathy to tears.

~ Diary of Miss Anne Lister, 15 August 1816

That all whether Male or Female have certain inclinations or propensities which must be and are gratified, & for aught I see should be so – they are implanted in us by some unknown power, and that the penalty of Death ought not to be inflicted for the exercise of those inclinations which have been implanted in us by some Superior Agency, and over which we have so little controul.

~ Anonymous Petition to Decriminalise Sex Between Men, 1828

[gay-dorito-dust]

Dick loves your plushie collection.

He doesn’t find it embarrassing in the slightest! If anything he finds it more offensive that you’d think it embarrassing having plushies as an adult. After he himself has a plush bunny dressed in his nightwing attire -escrima sticks and all- that he won at an arcade game a while back perched on the top of his bed back home.

He calls it dick jr and cuddles it when he has a rough night of crime fighting.

So he’s the last person to ever cast judgment on your plush collection.

If anything he lets his imagination run wild with them and takes full advantage of them. So if the instance came where you weren’t home, Dick would always send you photos and mini videos of him taking excellent care of a plush hare called Sir John Roderick Wellington the third by tucking him in bed at night, pretending to brush his teeth, etc

Or he’d make enact a photo shoot with a couple of them and send the results to you as your left asking where’d he manage to get all sorts of accessories for them…you’re still awaiting the answer to this day. Another thing he’d do with them is take them with him as company while he’s doing mundane chores in the apartment and act as though the plush is helping him.

You were quick to catch on that Dick having a hell of blast with it with how often he spammed your phone with a plethora of photos and videos that kept you up to date with the daily misadventures of your plushy. And yet you weren’t any better either as you kept them all in a album in your phone and are still wondering why your phone keeps informing you that you are running low on space…

Your favourite picture of your plushy was one where Dick had it tucked in bed, a picture of you on its lap, meanwhile Dick’s face could be seen peaking up from the bottom corner of the screen followed by the caption; ‘he misses you and can’t wait for you to come home and cuddle him. Oh and also me. :(

It’s became your Home Screen now and it was the best decision you’ve been made because it never failed to make you smile even on a bad day.

Jason loves it when you wear his clothes.

It’s free therapy for the man seeing you in his clothes and you can quote me on that.

He fucking loved coming home to see you do your own thing while looking all comfortable and relaxed in his shirts or hoodies doing so. For all Jason could ever want for you was for you to feel comfortable with him however you saw fit.

Also it gives him the more reason to stare at you shamelessly, well more than he did already, but you get the point. Jason is a simple man who’s not above letting it known how much he absolutely adores you.

So you wearing his clothes only added onto that adoration that he had for you. No one else could be more perfect in his eyes then you and he stands by that that statement.

‘You look perfect.’ -Jason

‘Jason, I’m wearing sweats and one of your shirts while eating pizza.’ -you

‘Yeah, perfect.’ -Jason

‘Doofus.’ -you, smiling.

Some days Jason would even go out of his way to leave his clothes on your side of the bed as a hint that he wants you to wear it for the day. Other days however he would be outright and blunt with the fact that he’d rather have you in his clothes than your own at this point.

‘Why are you wearing your clothes?’ - Jason

‘Because they’re my clothes and I feel bad wearing all of yours all the time.’ -you

‘Well I on the other hand don’t, take this shirt and go back into our bedroom and change.’ - Jason says as he takes off the shirt he was wearing and hands it to you, uncaring of the fact that he was shirtless in the living room.

‘You’re being dramatic Jason.’ - you as you take the warm shirt from his hands.

‘No I’m not, I just like you in my clothes a lot better than anything else.’ - Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘You’re getting jealous over clothes now?’ - you asked, raising a brow.

‘Yes.’ Jason responds instantly. ‘Now for the sake of my sanity go back and put my shirt on please.’

You kiss his cheek before leaving for the bedroom to change. ‘If you insist.’

‘I heavily insist chipmunk.’ - Jason says as he watched you walk away before following after to grab another shirt.

Jason loves it when you’re in his clothes. It’s his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.

[agaypanic]

Hello! I wanna request for aged up Roderick where he falls for his tutor that he was forced by his mom to get. Maybe a little bit of insecurity on his part cause he's scared she'll think he's dumb.

You're Not That Dumb (Rodrick Heffley X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: By some miracle, Rodrick graduates high school and decides to take some classes at the community college. When his mom finds out he’s failing one of his classes, she hires you to tutor him. 

A/N: guys i think taking adhd meds and vitamin d is working bc why am i starting to pop off rn (writing 3 fics a month instead of 2). rodrick and reader are 19 and go to community college. Rodrick is dyslexic bc “dore” and “sweaty” bae cmon now… apologies in advance for a lil anorexic joke towards the end, it was the only word i thought rodrick would know that sounded like dyslexic

***

“Mom, I’m an adult. I don’t need a tutor.”

“Yes, Rodrick, you do.” Susan sighed, dropping the laundry she was folding back in the basket and looking at her son. “You’re failing English, and your father will be furious if you get dropped from the class. So, you’re getting a tutor.”

Rodrick groaned in frustration. “What happened to you guys trusting me to be responsible?” 

“When you start acting responsibly, then we’ll trust you.” His mom replied, starting to fold her clean clothes again. “Please, just give it a chance. I talked to one of my friends, and she said her daughter can help you on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.”

“My tutor’s a girl?” Rodrick asked, starting to warm up to the idea of getting help with his class.

Susan gave him a suspicious look. “Yes… Is that a problem?”

“Nope! Not at all. I think this tutor thing is actually an excellent idea.” Rodrick started to back out of the room. Once he got to the doorway, he turned around and sped away so he wouldn’t get any further questions from his mom. “The best idea.”

***

Rodrick didn’t seem to take into account that having a tutor meant he was actually expected to work. He tried his best to evade it, but you obviously weren’t letting up. 

“Dude, it’s not that hard.” You tried to keep your irritation from coming out. You knew Rodrick was a bit of a slacker, but it was completely ridiculous that you two had been sitting at his desk for fifteen minutes just staring at his problem packet.

“I know,” Rodrick replied defensively. He let out a huff of air, moving around in his seat. ���I’m just… focusing my eyes.”

The more he tried to look at the page, the more confused he seemed to be getting. You needed to think of a different approach quick before you lost your cool.

“Maybe seeing all the different questions is getting you mixed up.” You finally took the packet, and Rodrick seemed to be relieved. “How about I read the questions, so you can come up with the answers. Okay?” He nodded, turning in his desk chair to face you. “Ready? Okay, why is it a sin to kill a mockingbird?”

Rodrick was quiet for a moment, and you hoped it was because he was formulating his response.

“Because they…” You braced yourself for his answer. “Don’t… deserve it?”

You raised your brows in surprise, and Rodrick mirrored your expression. “Yeah! I mean, you could say that about probably any bird, but good job! See, Rodrick, you know this stuff!” 

The next couple of questions went the same. Rodrick would give you a hesitant half-answer, and you would give him more details while praising him for getting another question right. Both of your moods improved, Rodrick trying to hide (but failing horrendously) his giddy smile every time you told him he was right, and you were relieved to finally be getting somewhere in your study session.

After a few more right answers, you decided that Rodrick deserved a break. In his excitement, Rodrick somehow stretched the supposed ten-minute break to almost an hour. He captivated you easily despite the fact that earlier that afternoon, you were grumbling about having to waste a day helping him when you could’ve been out with friends. But now, as you watched him air drum to a song you couldn’t recognize for your life, you realized that he was kind of cute.

“Okay, okay, I think you’re done now.” You laughed when the song faded out, and Rodrick slumped down in his chair. “We should probably finish up your homework.”

Rodrick sighed but didn’t argue. You handed him back the packet of questions, and once again, he just stared down at the questions. 

“You can do it, Rodrick.” You urged, trying to sound encouraging as you eased a pencil into his hand. “It’s just all the stuff we were talking about.”

“Right…” He trailed off, not very convinced. 

At first, Rodrick dropped the tip of the pencil to the first question. It didn’t move, just making a small dot on the paper as he looked down helplessly. Then his eyes flicked up a bit, and he suddenly scribbled something at the top of the page. 

That seemed to give him the confidence to start writing answers. His handwriting was messy; you couldn’t read it very well from your current position beside him. But you were just happy he was actually doing the work now. 

As he went down the page, his writing had more pauses and uncertainty. You told him he could take a break after the first page so you could look over his work. When he marked down the last period, he shyly slid the packet over to you. You gave Rodrick an encouraging smile before picking it up, and that seemed to ease his nerves.

But the immediate bewilderment he saw when you scanned the page made him even more panicky.

“What? What did I do wrong?”

You didn’t answer for a moment, trying to figure out how to approach the topic you wanted to bring up. 

“Rodrick, can I ask you something?” He nodded instantly. “Have you ever, uh, like… been tested? With your reading and writing, I mean?”

Rodrick was a bit confused by the question. He couldn’t recall any of that happening. But then again, Rodrick wasn’t the best at paying attention. He shook his head, wondering what you were trying to say.

Sighing, you decided to bite the bullet. “Rodrick, I think you might be dyslexic.”

He blinked at you, processing the information. Then he knitted his brows together, looking at you like you were the one that had something wrong with them. “Nuh-uh, I eat all the time.”

Now you were the one to blink at him, taking a second to try to connect the dots that Rodrick had. “I said dyslexic, not anorexic.”

“Oh.” Embarrassed by the mixup, he straightened up in his seat and scratched at the back of his neck. “But I know how to spell.” One quick glance from you back down to his paper made him gasp. He put a hand to his chest dramatically, which helped lighten the mood. “I can spell!”

“Rodrick, you put an ‘E’ in your first name.”

***

Rodrick Heffley Taglist: @tweedledipshit @screechingsandwichtriumph

[forgottenarias]

One Night | Arthur & Aria

"Everyone, my lady. They are, all of them, my father's people. They are all mine to protect."

Arthur's words ran through Aria's head again as she stared across the great hall to where Eilia was seated next to the Emperor. Aria knew the look her on her sisters face, the well practiced Stafford expression that meant to convey no expression at all. Aria had hoped that the Emperor had given up his goal of marrying her sister when he had declared the Staffords bastards but it seemed that would not be the case.

Aria pressed her back against the wall, feeling a bit out of her own skin dressed in the silks and satins Cassandra had insisted she wear when Aria had asked the youngest Varmont princess about attire for the tournament. Aria had never imagined Cassandra would commisson her an entire set of outfits for her to wear for the event. Part of the plan, she'd told herself and Eilia when they'd been delivered to their tiny quarters. It was all part of the plan.

"Eilia should be queen," Aria thought to herself, an often repeated mantra in these past weeks. She watched her sister give Roderick a short response to whatever question he had asked of her. Though the Emperor's face did not show it, Aria imagined he was less than pleased with her limited responses.

"Butcher I may be, but butcher I do not wish to remain."

Aria heard the guard next to her, who had been her near constant companion during the tournaments events, yawn. Aria turned her head slightly so she could just see him out of the corner of her eye.

"I'm not planning on running away if you'd like to go take a nap," Aria informed him. The guard frowned, saying nothing, though he suddenly was adjusting his stance, standing straighter and no longer leaning against the wall as she herself was in that moment. Aria turned her gaze back to the crowd to gauge the reason and was met with Arthur Varmont making his way towards her.

"Eilia should be queen," Aria thought to herself once again as Arthur reached her. Despite herself, she smiled slightly as he approached. It had been today Arthur had finally found himself the champion of the day and Aria had silently reminded herself she shouldn't look too pleased when he finally claimed victory.

"Let me offer you congratulations on your victory today, Imperial Highness," Aria offered, clasping her hands behind her back as she pushed away from the wall, standing up properly to speak with him. The pair had spoken little in the past days with the activities and festivities that had been taking place, but Aria had seen the small white fabric pinned to his surcoat each time he'd entered the tournament grounds. Aria had made a point not to think about why she'd handed him that handkerchief, not to think about how he'd interpreted her gesture. Aria Stafford could not admit that to herself... not yet.

"I am here to do all the good I can."

"Seeing you out there today did make me realize how dearly I miss riding from time to time," Aria mused, suddenly unsure of what more to say. "Tomorrow is to be... a group..." she paused, fumbling for the word. "Melee?" she finally concluded.

Tournaments had been rare in Astaira in the way the Varmonts held them, the country being more prone to festivals that all could partake in. There had been competitions, yes, but wargames had rarely taken place.

[bycaligula]

ꨄ Heather

pairing ; rodrick heffley x f!reader

summary ; rodrick finally gets flat out rejected by heather hills after spending his entire summer trying to impress her. despite y/n’s best efforts to console him, he’s not having it. (fluff + angst? reader and roderick are awkward teenagers ofc)

a/n ; sorta my first fanfic? not really a full fic, more like some thoughts of mine. hope y’all like it tho, 😜 lmk if you want a part two because im totally down to write smut idgaf 😍

warnings ; cursing, angst?, arguing, kissing 😚

ꨄ

you and rodrick were close friends

rodrick developed a big crush on heather hills right before school let out for summer

he would constantly go out of the way to impress heather, each time failing and embarrassing himself, “rod, it’s okay, heather just hard to impress, you know?… i was impressed, by the way” you would smile and try to laugh it all off with him, trying your best to make him feel better

when rodrick finally got flat out rejected by heather, it caused an argument between you two.

“you know what, y/n? this is all your fault! you- you got between me and heather, you’re the reason she didn’t like me!”

you two are standing in his room, after a particularly embarrassing incident at the pool.

“rodrick, what the fuck are you saying? i didn’t do anything to make heather not like you! it has nothing to do with me!”

“it has everything to do you with you!”

“how?! please, enlighten me because all i’ve done this entire summer was console you each time heather shut you down! each time you embarrassed yourself right in front of her!”

“i- i, uh…”

“that’s what i fucking thought. stop blaming stupid shit like this on me, rodrick, i’m tired of it. i’ve been here for you through all this dumbass heather hills bullshit. have you ever stopped to think how i felt? huh? rodrick, why do you think i approached you that one day in middle school? it wasn’t because you were nice, definitely not. it was because for some reason, i liked you, i liked you a lot. to this day i like you! i’ve stayed your friend even after you do shit like this to me, because i have a giant stupid fat crush on you, you asshole! ugh! fuck you!”

at that point, you were emotional. a tear or two escaping. you walk away, or at least attempt to walk away. roderick grabs your arm, “let go of me, you prick!” you try to yank it away, but he pulls you back.

“y/n, can you stop? stop trying to walk away from me?” “no! i’m done with you!” “y/n, i didn’t even get say anything about-“ “yeah? well, i don’t want you to!”

he continues to pull you toward him, as you try to pull away. you yell profanities at him as he tries to talk to you. “y/n, why didn’t you tell me? if i’d known, i wouldn’t have done any of this stuff to try and get with heather! i wasn’t a dick to you in 7th grade because i had a crush on you too! and- and i, uh, i still do, okay?”

you scoff and shake your head, stopping your attempts to yank yourself away and out the door.

“i’m being serious!”

“no, you aren’t.”

“i am”

“no, you aren’t. you’re just saying this because you’re hurt about heather, and now need a backup plan to get a girl.”

“y/n, no, i’m being dead serious, it’s not like that.” he walks toward you. maybe, he is being serious. you can tell when he’s lying, you’ve seen him lie to his mom millions of times. your eyebrows furrow, looking all over his face, just to make sure he’s not lying straight to your face.

he sighs, “please, believe me.”

he said please. he never uses the word please, only when he’s really trying to be sincere.

you bite your lip. what are you even supposed to do, right now? you want to kiss him, but you’ve had that urge so many times, and each time you’ve ignored it.

despite your nerves almost eating you alive right now, you quickly move to reach your free arm up, grabbing his shoulder and pushing your lips to his.

he drops your arm from his grasp. his lips don’t move against yours, and even though your eyes are tightly shut, you feel his burning into you.

oh. you remember he’s never kissed anyone. you pull away immediately. when you open your eyes, his are wide and staring right at you. you think he realizes why you pulled away. he attempts to play it cool, per usual.

“um, yeah, that was cool.” he avoids eye contact. scratching his neck, and nodding his head. his face heats up and he turns his head away, occasionally darting his eyes to look at you. “totally cool…”

you sigh, watching his movements. was that the wrong thing to do?

“i, um, im sorry, that was sudden…”

rodrick realizes you might regret it, what if you never want to kiss him again? what then? he’s really going to look like an asshole.

“what? no! no, it was cool, really! um, maybe, we can do it again? sometime? i guess…” he forces out a casual laugh at the end, even though he’s slightly panicking on the inside, fearing he looks like a total loser (past his “cool punk rock” persona he has going on, we all know kind of is LOL).

you raise your eyebrows, trying to mimic this whole ‘if you’re cool, i’m cool’ thing rodrick is doing. “yeah, well…i’m free, right now…if you wanna…” you smile mischievously at him, gauging his reaction closely.

he nods frantically, and you laugh at his wide eyed expression. you quickly close the gap between you two, grabbing the sides of his face with both hands and kissing him urgently. his hands find your waist and snake around to hold you close. he kisses you back with a same urgent neediness.

[sanguinesky-if]

Happy Valentine's Day, dear author. Hope it was a good one! 🫶

In the spirit of love, would it be too soon to ask how the ROs would react if the Detective made them a candlelight dinner then gave them a forehead kiss? 👀

Hello, and happy belated Valentine's Day!

I usually don't do reaction asks anymore, but I think this occasion can be an exception.

Judging by the ask, I assume it's in the relationship stage, and that this is the first time such a dinner is happening, so here it goes.

Kyle / Keira:

K will be nervous, furrowing their brows, distracted by the kiss. All this effort for them? How should they react without ruining everything? They'll be tense and will only be able to relax at the end of the dinner.

Lex / Lexie:

L will experience puppy-like happiness, so it's a good thing they don't have a tail; otherwise, it would be wagging the whole dinner.

Morgan:

Morgan will smile softly, silently appreciating the effort the MC made for them in a way words can't describe. After dinner, Morgan will give the MC a teasing kiss on the corner of their lips / a light kiss on the back of their hand while maintaining eye contact. It will be a "thank you", but also a silent question to understand if the evening will end there, or...

Roderick / Rebecca:

R doesn't fully understand the concept of dating in the usual sense, but they'll recognize that this occasion is special. They'll ask questions during the dinner about it [about what the MC likes to do and why]. If R learns that the MC enjoys something like this a lot, it could turn into a regular event, with R often being the one who prepares it.

Theo / Tess:

T is someone who truly appreciates when they see someone putting effort into something, so this would mean a lot to them. Of course, it wouldn't be T if they didn't ask when they should thank the MC properly—before, during, or after dinner. In the end, they'll do their best to convey how much this truly means, through words and actions.

Isaac / Iris:

I will stop the MC from pulling away, holding the MC's chin while their thumb gently traces the MC's lower lip before leaning in to give them a deep, slow kiss. They will be the first to pull away before things can get heated to focus on dinner, as it will be important for them to show their appreciation for the effort the MC put into it.

Sebastian / Selena:

S will smirk and make a teasing comment about how sweet it is, but the MC will notice the tension beneath it. They've had countless dinners like this, but this one will feel different—new and unsettling, because anything truly genuine and mutual with the MC is unfamiliar territory for S. If sex is on the menu after dessert, S will find a reason to avoid it, at least until they learn to accept something like this as a normal person would.

Thank you for the message!

[onesiesdaydream]

Love Me Like the End is Coming I Dream x Reader

Ch. 1 I Ch. 2 I Ch. 3 I Ch. 4

Chapter 3 (A Chocolate Chip Cookie)

Summary: Hidden deep within the shadows of the Burgess estate, Dream remains trapped in a glass prison—silent, ageless, and watching. Through the shimmer of enchantment, he sees you for the first time: a child with curious eyes and a gentle presence, so different from the rest. Over the years, you return, drawn to the quiet figure beyond the glass, unaware of the ancient power your gaze stirs awake. Time passes. You grow. And still, he watches. And when the time comes, you are the one who sets him free. What begins as an unlikely friendship between a god of dreams and a mortal girl blossoms into something stranger, something beautiful. But as you help Dream reclaim what was stolen from him, you begin to uncover buried pieces of your own past — pieces that may not have been meant to surface.

MASTERLIST

'Oh shit.'

You really screwed up this time.

"I uh…I-"

The guard rolled his eyes with a loud huff that rustled his bushy moustache, his rough Welsh accent shining through as he let go of your collar "Look kid, I ain't fond of the big man myself so I'm not about to go saunterin' to tell him about this. But I'm warning you. I better not see you around here again or we'll both be in deep shit. Got it? Now go on."

He gently pushes you back towards the stairs.

You didn't think twice about it before bolting back to where you came from. When you were almost at the top though, you couldn't help but sneak one final glance at the mysterious being, now looking slightly more comfortable thanks to the blanket an pillow.

He was staring straight at you but this time, to your pleasant surprise, it wasn't as intense as before, maybe even slightly curious.

You sent a small wave his way before booking it back to your room, flopping down into bed and heading to sleep with a lighter heart.

That morning you were woken up by the shrill buzz of the doorbell once more. You heard Mr. Burgess call out to Mr. Sykes and Alex. You were just about to fall back to sleep when you heard a strange voice inside the house.

You quickly got up and put on your slippers from last night, quietly going over to the railing that peeped over the first floor to get a look at who was inside the mansion. There you found a tidy blond man with a chiseled face strolling his way around the first floor. Was he wearing sunglasses indoors?

Despite being crouched down, the man looked up towards the railing before spotting you peeking at the scene through the intricate wooden railing. He shot you a small smile, raising his hand and waving slightly towards you. Curious about the stranger, you stayed rooted in place but nonetheless waved back .

The second Mr. Burgess turned the corner you slunk back enough so you could hear the conversation but not be seen. The man's smile had fallen at how quick you were to leave but thought nothing of it.

"Do I know you?" questioned the Magus.

"No, but I know all about you, Roderick," the peculiar man replied in a sing-songy way,

"and the being you've trapped in your cellar."

That immediately piqued your interest.

A groggy looking Alex came out of his bedroom before making his way next to you to look over the balcony.

"Blackmail, then, is it? A shakedown?" It was clear Mr. Burgess didn't trust the stranger.

"Not at all. I'm here to help you. You're gonna need all the help you can get."

That was the last you heard of the mysterious conversation before they both walked into the study, shutting the door to continue their chat.

You turned to Alex, "What do you think that was all about?"

He shrugged. "Let's go get breakfast, yeah?"

On your way to the kitchen, you caught sight of the two men making their way towards the front door. The man with the sunglasses saw you waving at you once more before taking his leave.

Alex went over with Mr. Sykes briefly to the door to observe the departure of the strange man with the cream colored suit.

You never saw him again.

After you finished eating the delicious breakfast that Mr. Sykes had prepared for the both of you, Mr. Burgess didn't take long before beckoning Alex to his study. Probably to boss him around again.

You decided now was as good of a time as any to sneak back into the cellar and talk to the being downstairs.

'Maybe I should bring him something to eat. Does he even eat?'

You took 2 chocolate chip cookies from one of the plates Mr. Sykes had set out and wrapped them up neatly in a napkin.

Making your way to the entrance of the cellar with the light of day this time made the trip much less terrifying. You carefully tiptoed down the stairs, checking the area out to see where the guards were. Luckily, there was no one in sight.

He was still wrapped up in the blanket you had given him last night but you could see his pale feet poking out from the bottom. Maybe he was able to get a little bit of rest.

"Good morning! I'm back." you whispered, just in case.

He opened his eyes and you could feel the shivers creeping up your spine. His eyes were beautiful yet so so terrifying. They looked at you inquisitively, not trusting but not glowering either.

You sat crisscrossed in front of the binding circle, scooching back slightly once you saw him trying to move.

He gingerly propped himself up on the pillow with one elbow before straining to lift himself up into a sitting position. It seemed to be taking him a colossal amount of effort, his face glistening with newly formed sweat. But nonetheless, after a bit of struggle, he managed to sit up without showing you any of his privates, placing the blanket over his lap.

"I brought you some of Mr. Sykes chocolate chip cookies! He's an amazing baker and they're my absolute favorite! I don't know if you're hungry or not but you should definitely eat some so you can get your strength back and move around more easily." you explained, taking out the neatly folded up cookies from our pocket.

That's when you hesitated.

'Should I hand them to him? Or would it be better to place them in the circle? What if he tires to grab me? What should I do!?'

You unwrapped them, opting for placing them inside the circle for him to take as quickly as you could.

He stared down at the cookies before glancing up at you through his thick, long eyelashes.

Without removing his gaze from yours, he slowly picked up one of the brown cookies and took a miniscule bite. He strained to grab the remaining cookie, picking it up with the napkin and pointing it in your direction. His eyebrows were raised as he motioned the cookie your way as if telling you to take it.

You stared at him surprised by the interaction before smiling and taking the one he was handing you taking a big ol' bite.

With your mouth full you asked "were you cold last night?", before going back to enjoying your treat.

He seemed to be working on his cookie very slowly, swallowing a small bite before staring at you. He hesitated for a moment before giving you a a tiny shake of his head.

It took him by surprise when your small eyes lit up like a city at night just because of his acknowledgement.

"Great! I know it's probably not really comfortable to sleep on this floor but at least the blanket kept you warm." you said, gradually losing your fear of him after seeing that he hadn't made any move to hurt you in the two days that you had gotten near him and was actually semi-communicating with you.

You had just finished up your cookie when you heard the sound of people upstairs. Probably the guards getting ready to switch shifts.

He started lying back down, exhaustion taking over.

"I really need to go now. I don't want a repeat of last night. I'll try to come see you again tomorrow. Bye Mr.! Hope you liked the cookie!"

And with that, you made your way back up the dreary old steps to the main house, mindful of the crack in the floor this time.

That very same afternoon and the days after that, the mansion was flooded by a series of men who meandered about the house with a large sheets of glass, iron, and various construction tools. But that was the least of your problems. The problem was that they kept trudging into the basement.

'What could they be doing down there?'

You didn't dare step near the cellar with so many people loitering inside of it. So you went to find Alex. Maybe he knew what all of this was about.

"Hey Alex, what's going on inside with so many people?" you asked. He was in the garden.

"Father said they were doing some very important work and it's crucial that no one interrupts them. He didn't say much else so I'm not really sure. Guess we'll just have to wait an see." he said.

"Maybe it has something to do with that gentleman that stopped earlier this morning." you pondered, looking over at the young boy besides you.

You couldn't help but feel like there was something more going on.

"Maybe. Let's stop thinking about that and let's go help Mr. Sykes with the dusting. Maybe he'll give us some more of those delicious cookies!" he stated, standing up and turning to face you.

You forced yourself to forget about the people in the cellar. About the pale man in the binding circle. It was probably nothing.

With a bright smile towards Alex, you took his hand and marched your way back inside with him.

'Everything will be just fine.'

You should've known better than that.

[commanderofwhat]

Do you think Dream ever tells Hob something, or shows Hob something, or even gives him something, and sometimes, for a second, thinks, "Roderick Burgess would be so pissed to see this"

If the immortality wasn't enough to send the bastard into a screaming fit, then it would certainly be bow favored Hob is to a being such as Dream of the Endless, much less fucking Death of the Endless just by being... normal? And cocky about it at the right time and right place and what does he do?

600 years of mundane ambitions, nothing vaguely grabbing at any real power, no study of the occult or even interactions or demands for more

Burgess sacrifice so much time, energy wasted at bargaining with a void until his death, Hob just got everything he wished for by just being lucky enough to end up as two universal forces /joke/

While Burgess rots in hell, Dream of the Endless shows Hob the Dreaming's Library and, yes, Dream revels in how much the old man would have frothed at the mouth to get his stained hands on such books, such knowledge and here was Hob, a peasant now every day professor, who mostly asked for a bit of Dream's time, not even for his benefit, mostly Dream is the one being given wines and teas and whatever foods Hob tries to sway Dream into trying.

Maybe sometimes hell shows Burgess the scenes of Hob tucking Dream of the Endless, a being that survived a century of airless imprisonment like he was the most fragile creature in the world before a movie night

Burgess had to use an entire ritual, a whole cult and countless workers to force the Endless presence, all Hob has to do it smile and shly look away while tugging at an ear to get a visit, a promise, a /deal/

Hob gets to have all the time imaginable and gets to now spend it lovingly close to the most beautiful creature ever conceive while Burgess rots for being the wrong kind of idiot

A scene of Hob being given a dreamstone, something Burgess would have literally killed for, just to let Hob spend even more lucid time in the Dreaming, to protect him from the ever increasing enemies of both the man and the Endless

[zzzssleeping]

Sibling Survival Guide

K. Bakugou & male reader

Being the little brother of Bakugou.

Fluff, platonic relationship, slight occ(?)

-> Having Bakugou Katsuki as an older brother would be like living with a drill sergeant who sometimes shows he cares from aggressive acts of service. Think Roderick from Diary of a Wimpy Kid, but way worse. He's not a bad older brother, but don't expect any wholesome moments.

He will not go easy on you just because you're his family. If anything, that means you get less mercy. He’ll roast you, yell at you when you mess up, and probably explode in your face just for looking at him funny. That being said, being his younger brother does come with some privileges:

You’re one of the few people who can call him by his first name, Katsuki or Kats, (if you say it in a cutesy tone, he’ll throw a pillow at your face). He will cook for you. Not because he loves you, hell no, he can’t stand your “trash taste” and "garbage cooking." This involves helping you with anything else.

-> Age gap means nothing. Whether you're 2 years younger or 14, you're both locked in eternal sibling combat. He'll put you in headlocks, steal your food, and use his height advantage to put things on high shelves just to watch you struggle. If you're taller than him, he'll be a little annoyed, still, it won't stop him from pissing you off.

Your relationship with Bakugou exists in a constant state of beautiful arguments. You'll spend the entire day throwing insults at each other, picking fights, and generally acting like you can't stand each other's existence. By nighttime, you'll both somehow end up on the couch sharing a bag of chips like nothing ever happened.

"Move over."

"No, you move over."

"I was here first."

"I don't care, move."

He might let you lean on him while you both watch TV.

-> Chores are a battlefield. He’ll bribe you, blackmail you, or straight-up lie to get you to do them for him. “Do my laundry and I’ll give you ¥1000.” You do it, and suddenly he’s like, “I said maybe. Now shut up before I tell the old hag you snuck out last night."

The "shushing you when he hit too hard" thing when you were little is peak Bakugou behavior. "Crap! Don't cry, here, hit me back, just don't tell Mom" cue him awkwardly patting your head. He genuinely doesn't mean to hurt you, (most of the time), but his default setting is "aggressive" and sometimes he forgets you're not as sturdy as his friends.

If you give the exact same energy with a fist or using a quirk and beat him, he'll do it back ten times worse.

-> Very rarely, when you're sick or genuinely upset about something serious, he'll drop the act entirely. He'll bring you soup without complaining, or sit with you when you're scared, even give you some advice. These moments are NEVER acknowledged after.

-> He always says no when you ask him for anything.

“Katsuki, can I borrow some money?”

“No. Get a damn job.”

Later on, it somehow appears in your room, if you ask about it, he'll only tell you to shut up and be quiet.

-> You’re off-limits. No mentions. No casual introductions, no anything. If one of his classmates and other heroes meets you? He goes full nuclear mode. It’s not because he’s ashamed, it’s the opposite. He knows he acts totally different around you. He’s a walking tantrum in public, but a little less disaster at home.

Try to embarrass him in front of his friends, you're signing a death warrant. Call him by a stupid nickname? Dead. Tell them about the time he cried during a movie? Dead. Mention how he used to be scared of the vacuum cleaner? Not just dead, obliterated from existence. He'll get his revenge in the most psychologically devastating way possible.

-> The absolute horror on his face when you casually mention finding one of his friends attractive is something that should be studied by scientists. Especially if it's Midoriya, having the look of pure betrayal and disgust on his face.

From that moment on, you're banned from all hangouts, study sessions, and any event where his friends might be there. He'll make schemes to keep you separated. His friends will be confused about why he's so weird about you being around, but they'll never know the truth.

You take interest in someone he doesn't know? You're not going anywhere. Somehow, him knowing nothing about your romantic interests is worse for your freedom.

"Hey, I'm going to my friend's house."

"Who?"

"Does it matter? You don't know them."

"Yeah, you're not going. Sit the hell down."

-> If you come out to him, whether you're gay, transgender, or anything else, he might pause whatever he's doing and give you a look. Genuinely doesn't care about your identity; he probably had suspicions anyway and was just waiting for you to say something first.

Whoever you are, whatever you become, however much you grow or change, in his eyes, you'll always be his little brother.

[cuubism]

i was reading about mules recently (how they're stubborn and good at self-preservation) and now i'm convinced equestrian au dream & hob also rescue donkeys/mules. one of them gets named matthew, to groom!matthew's chagrin. they are excellent for doing cross-country stuff.

I think Dream would absolutely love mules and bring home the most ornery untrainable one in the world, and Hob would just fall to his knees in despair like, "Dream for ONCE can you get an animal that doesn't want to kick me in the head?" (All of Dream's ponies try to bite Hob all the time). In any case, the mule is Dream's problem now. He can teach it how to bite Roderick. It looks like this I think, very shiny with the classic huge ears

Hob's like well if you've gotten a new horse, it's only fair if I get one too. I want an Andalusian

Dream: I got this mule for £100 at a livestock fair, you want a £20,000 Andalusian from Spain?

Hob: yeah

Dream: what the hell are you going to do with that?

Hob: remember when we went to the renaissance faire and you said I would look hot doing the horseback sword fighting?

Dream:.... what color do you want your Andalusian

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Brat by Uzumaki Rebellion

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Spanking, Choking, Dom!Terry Richmond, BDE, Bisexual Female Partner, Compersion Fetish, BDSM Play, Urophilia/Watersports.

Summary: Sasha is a brat. On purpose. Now Terry is mad. Big mad.

Word Count: 6.7K

"I'm still, I'm still wet here tonight

So I will make you cum through the night

Will you touch me? Will you go deep in me?

I will in the sheets

I will, I will, I-I-I will"

Teyana Taylor – "WTP"

The cops were called to his home

Terry worked overnight duty on base, and his desk phone rang at ten-twenty. His neighbor Roderick, a fellow marine, hit him up with news that a noise complaint about his apartment brought out the local police. It was the second one that month.

"Your girlfriend has a bunch of women in your place again…the music is blasting and the cops are talking to her right now."

Terry rubbed his forehead. His jawline tightened. Sasha knew better than to have a bunch of people in his place when he wasn't there without letting him know about it ahead of time. He'd recently given her keys to his apartment six months ago as a reward for being a good girl. Here she was, fucking up the privilege already.

You see, Sasha is a brat.

On purpose.

It's a quality that titillates Terry, and yet it frustrates him, too. Sasha can't help it. Her nature is to be desirable, a supreme fuck, and well…a rule breaker.

Terry met Sasha at a wedding in Bayagoula Parrish, Louisiana. Both were part of the wedding party, he as a groomsman and she as a bridesmaid. He wore his military dress blues to match the groom. Sasha's beauty angered the bride who felt she eclipsed all the other women in the wedding party. He appreciated it because they'd been paired with different people to walk down the aisle, and he had the opportunity to watch her stroll in after him. Sasha displayed her shapely figure, which could be quite distracting. Her legs were fantastic, especially in heels and a high slit dress. She was top heavy too, and the off-the-shoulder dress made every attracted eye dart back and forth between thigh meat and the big juicy melons bouncing as she approached the altar. The tangerine orange of her dress enhanced the warm cognac color of her skin. He couldn't pull his eyes away from her. She was pure fap material for guys who couldn't pull her, which happened to be many at the reception. Samuel, who partnered walking down the aisle with her, strutted around thinking he was the shit with her displayed on his arm. But it was a wrap once Sasha lined her gaze with Terry's at the altar. Fireworks.

The two of them together oozed sex appeal and thoughts of sex. They complimented each other's energy. He had an assertive, domineering personality shaped by his years in the marines. Equal parts controlling and nurturing, he could overwhelm the ladies within seconds of meeting them. He already had the women there swooning over his voice. A gaze from his alluring eyes in any direction set hearts fluttering. Even the older women tee-heed with girlish enthusiasm interacting with him. He knew his power to attract and weaponized it as needed.

Sasha was a natural pleaser. Not to be mixed up with an overall people-pleaser, or a tiresome PickMe, her desire was to satisfy her lover, and they in turn would naturally gift her the moon, with a necklace of stars to match. She came off bubbly, warm, and endearing…the type of woman receptive to romance from an Alpha type. Male or female. He sensed she needed a little bit of spoiling with firm discipline to keep her in check. Pleasure and punishment. A heady combination he wanted to offer.

One bridesmaid joked about Terry and Sasha looking like human versions of Scar and Nala from The Lion King. His devilish green eyes and her equally cat-like eye shape gave testament to it. Their instant chemistry was like an electric current running through a socket. Everyone around them sensed the incredible magnetism they carried in proximity, like static electricity zapping them.

She sat down at the same table and immediately started flirting with Terry. After a few drinks, a deeper connection blossomed. Her voice turned him on. Everything sounded erotic the way she enunciated certain words, as if she wanted to make love to his ears. They chatted each other up, lightly touching hands and arms, whispering in each other's ears. Her breasts kept brushing against his arm, turning him on further as he fantasized about sucking on them with her sexy legs thrown over his shoulders. She brought out a feral competition in a lot of the men who interacted with her on the dance floor. What impressed him the most was how she complimented women there constantly, hyping them on their clothes and make-up. She was a girl's girl and danced with some who men passed over by streaking to the dance floor because the DJ was excellent. Sasha rallied a group of women into doing the YaYa, a Creole line-dance making a resurgence in those parts because of Beyonce's Cowboy Carter album.

He didn't want to get sweaty in his military uniform, but Terry couldn't resist a good, soulful line dance with a bunch of Black people. Bayagoula had some slim pickings for Black women since it was a majority white town, but since the bride was Black, Terry and a host of other Black soldiers hoped she had enough Black female friends coming to town available for some good times. He silently thanked the wedding planner for placing Sasha next to him. They shared a slow dance, and he loved having her breasts resting against his chest.

As the evening continued, they cozied up even more.

Sasha kissed him first right at the table. The lights in the venue had lowered for after-dinner partying, so Terry took advantage, purposely grazing his fingers against her right breast where he'd thrown his arm around her shoulder. Their table was empty and the dance floor was full tilt boogie. Nibbling on her earlobe, he whispered filthy things he wanted to do to her. He lowered his hand and slipped them up the slit in her dress, sliding her panties aside, fingering her with shallow thrusts. She let him finger fuck her, begging for him to go deeper.

Sasha started playing with Terry's dick under the tablecloth. Everyone else was too drunk and too occupied with dancing. No one paid attention to them. She got his dick so stiff that he dragged her to the nearest restroom and fucked her. Lifted her onto the sink, hiked up her dress, unfastened the upper part of her dress and released tits he now adored. It didn't take long for him to spill into the condom. Their foreplay at the table had them rearing to go.

His dick was too big and heavy to fit all the way inside her pussy. The last two inches, visible at the root, moved up and down as he ejaculated. He loved how she handled his meat. He packed so much length that her pussy squirted from the pressure of being stretched to capacity. She peed on him, too. He pinched her big nipples, obsessing over them already.

"I'm taking you home with me," he said.

His dick kept pulsing cum, and he shivered as the last orgasmic surge pushed through his dick. Even his nut sack jumped at the pleasure of release. Sasha gave off soft babygirl energy, and he wanted a woman like that. He'd only known her for five hours and already claimed her as his.

"Okay," she said, with her legs draped over his arms.

Terry turned her around and lifted her breasts. He watched his reflection in the mirror bounce them in his hands, getting off on the weight and size. His dick finally started going down, and Sasha peeled the condom off. He turned to urinate in the toilet and she held his dick for him, guiding the stream into the bowl.

"You like watching me do that?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Hmmm, into watersports?"

Her sloe eyes twinkled with delight.

"I used to watch my brother's college friends pee in our backyard when they were drunk. The sight of dicks out in the open like that…squirting everywhere…yummy. I get wet just thinking about it."

"What if I pissed on you? Would you like that?"

"Yes, Daddy…I would play with my pussy while you did it."

He grinned. She already understood his expectations. He whispered in her ear that he wanted a good girl, an obedient one, and she knew exactly what he meant. A submissive that catered to her man.

She shook his dick and used one of the soft paper towels to clean his tip. Then she dropped to her knees and sucked him off for a final cleaning. He wanted to bust a load on her face, but they'd been in the restroom long enough.

He scooped her up and drove back to his apartment.

They began a committed relationship soon after.

Terry dominated her life. Told her what to wear, what to cook for them when he worked hard all day supporting them both. Sasha flitted from part-time job to job like a bee gathering pollen whenever she was bored, not in a rush to find a career like Terry had done. He was a big bad marine with a jacked body, a tatted sleeve down one arm, and a sculpted face. He liked her being home, and she liked being there spoiled by him. His pay grade and rank allowed him to provide a comfortable life for her.

There were other rules, of course.

The apartment had to be pristine clean and her pussy had to be ready when he came home. He dealt with loud, tense, funky, gritty, and abrasive men all day. His home had to reflect the opposite vibe, and he needed to sink into her softness in the evening.

She greeted him at the door after work, looking dreamy in heels and clothes he liked to see her in, like short skirts and sexy dresses to show off those legs. With a cocktail in hand and deep welcoming tongue kisses, Sasha played her role. He brought home flowers every Friday, and at least once a week he bought her presents. She liked bracelets and expensive perfumes in fancy little bottles. He bought her books on whatever new hyper-fixation she had. One month it was soap-making. Another month it was origami, and he suffered through an apartment full of little flying cranes and odd-shaped butterflies. It made him feel good to bring her something special just to witness the sparkle in her eye and the squeal she let out each time. That was often more arousing than foreplay.

On the weekends, when he had to stay on base or travel out of state for additional work-related training, they agreed that she could have a female lover over for girl time. They'd brought other women into their bedroom on various occasions, and Terry sat next to Sasha as she had sex on the king-sized bed. He never indulged in the other women with her, preferring to watch and jerk off. Some might say he was a cuck, but that wasn't it. He had a compersion fetish. Sasha's happiness at having him as a boyfriend and still indulging in sex with another woman gave him pleasure mentally. It stimulated him, no doubt, to watch his woman go at it with another beautiful woman, but he never did a threesome by sticking his dick in someone else. Sasha was enough woman for him, plus, not every outsider was into the things that he liked to do to her. Like breath play with choking, and of course, the golden showers.

Sasha played the submissive well, pampering herself during the day in preparation for his coming home. Terry gave strong Daddy energy, and it brought out the softness in her. His father raised him to be a stern patriarch and southern gentleman. Women were to be taken care of and the expectation was for them to please their men like sweet southern belles.

Sasha was sweet and one hundred percent southern…but a brat, nonetheless. And brats don't always do what you tell them.

She'd purposely leave crumbs in the kitchen for him to find after work. Or she'd forget to make the bed the way he liked. Sometimes she ordered take out instead of making him the home-cooked meals he expected. That's when Terry would fume and take off his belt, lifting her up and taking her into the bedroom to get spanked until her ass cheeks were a deeper shade. When he finished striking her backside, he'd rub cooling blue gel all over her rump, simultaneously soothing her and chastising her.

"Why do you make me do this to you?" he'd lament. "You know I don't like punishing you. I want to come home and have peace. You're my peace, Sasha."

Those searing green eyes would narrow and his brows stayed furrowed, correcting her behavior.

She loved that shit.

However, on the day he had to leave for a weekend base stay several hours before Roderick called him about the police at his place, Sasha (purposely):

1. Forgot to pick up his dry cleaned dress blues on time the night before when he asked.

2. Tossed his clean clothes in drawers without folding them.

3. And God forbid, mixed his unpaired socks in his underwear drawer.

His jaw grew rigid, and he spoke to her through gritted teeth.

"Didn't we talk about this?" he said with an exasperated tone.

"Who cares? Everything is clean. I'll get your dry cleaning today. Don't have a cow," she said, scrolling through pages of fashion on her tablet, hoping he'd snap.

He always took the bait.

His hand went gently around her throat, and he pushed her against the wall.

"What did I tell you about talking to me like that?"

A dangerous smirk twisted his lips to the side. Sasha pouted.

"It won't kill your clothes to not be perfect. I washed and dried them and put them away. That's good enough. Deal with it."

"You know we have to have order in this home. I tell you this every day, Sasha, an orderly home denotes an orderly mind. Fix it."

"You fix it."

He sighed and glanced over at the clock on the wall. His work day started in thirty minutes. He had to be on base in fifteen or risk being late. That was simply a no-no.

"Go straighten out those drawers," he insisted, with more bass in his voice.

He pushed her toward the dresser and hurriedly went to their walk-in closet to grab and fold his old dress blues. He liked to have them on him in case the upper brass needed him to appear ready at a moment's notice for any occasion. His new uniforms needed cleaning before he would wear them. Sasha strolled past their bureau.

"Sasha, I'm not playing!"

He buttoned up the shirt of his duty uniform. She sashayed toward the bedroom door, switching her hips in her babydoll nightie, big titties bouncing, not having any plans for the day except eating chocolate bon bons and shopping online or doing whatever she wanted at her whim because he wanted her to.

"Sasha!"

She ignored him. He snatched her up, throwing her across his lap on the bed. Yanking her nightie up, he pulled the matching panties down and swatted that ass. He gave an even number of spanks on each cheek, careful to soothe as well as punish so as not to harm her tender skin. She yelped and refused to apologize for back talking, making him more upset…and his dick hard.

He added some harder smacks under the jiggling booty cheeks, and she got the message, jerking on his lap and hissing from the sting of genuine pain settling in. He held her down with one arm and heated that ass up, stopping before she needed their safe word. Her disobedience and disrespect resulted in an unscheduled spanking session today, although they had scheduled sessions for weekdays and weekends.

He refused to use the cooling gel on her. She needed to feel the pain of punishment for at least an hour. He'd give her more after he returned home from work.

Terry looked down at his protruding dick nearly blasting a hole through his work pants. Sasha stared at it too, licking her lips. This was what she wanted. He'd ignored her earlier in bed when she wanted dick at four in the morning. The night before, he'd dragged home exhausted from combat drills. He chose to crash out instead of pleasing her. Her hand rubbed on his muscle-toned thighs and traced lines on his tatted bicep, but he was not in the mood.

She chose to make him late. Just to get back at him. He came harder when he was angry or irritated. Down went his zipper… and her knees. He fished out his dick and stroked hard and fast.

"Selfish little brat," he barked. "Making me fucking late!"

She pulled down her nightie, revealing his weakness, and he stared at her breasts. He moaned out loud when she plucked at her nipples and circled her pretty manicured nails around the edges of her dark areolas, reminding him visually of how big they were, and how much he loved that about her.

Pre-cum spilled out of his deep slit, and she used it as a lubricant to tease around her sizeable nipples that stood out like fat, juicy blueberries. His sack was heavy with cum. Sasha licked her lips. Smacked those big melons together, and he blew his load all over her pretty face. She brushed back her wild, wavy hair and continued shaking her titties for him.

He panted and shot another hot rope across her tongue. She jumped up and placed herself on the bed, spreading open her labia for him to see the wet pink of her dripping pussy.

"Fucking slut!"

His eyes became mere slits of angry jade. He grabbed his cell and called his boss while shaking off his pants. A credible lie fell out of his mouth as he plunged into her. He bought an hour pretending to have a dead battery in his car. Tossing the phone on the bed, he fucked Sasha as deep as she could take unsheathed. He grunted, and she threw her arms across his shoulders, satisfied that she got what she wanted.

Anger guided his thrusts. When he started getting too aggressive, he switched to eating her pussy. That helped calm him down. She was insatiable. He should've paid more attention to that quality about her after the first night he fucked her. Sasha loved his dick and craved it at all hours.

Terry sucked and licked her clit, forcing breathy moans out of his woman. She rocked and rolled her hips, her vulva laid out like a summer nectarine: smooth, juicy and sweet. Sasha soaked his lips and chin. His facial hair became a sticky mess with her excess.

He spooned her on his side and parted her cheeks with his dick alone, sliding in and stretching her properly. Terry fondled a breast and pounded her down until that juicy pussy clenched around him. He kept fucking because he knew she needed more.

"Oh, Daddy! I'm sorry! Don't punish me like this!" she screamed, clutching onto the covers.

She wasn't sorry. She wanted that deep Daddy dick.

Sasha said it like a mantra over and over, "Oh Daddy…I'm sorry! Oh, Daddy…I'm sorry! Oh, Daddy…"

He groaned and hit the side of her walls to really make her feel it, and spurt a geyser of cum, still angry that he was late. But busting a nut that hard was worth it in the end. She gasped, her legs jerking wildly at the intensity.

Rising from the bed, he looked down at his brat. She took her fingers and peeled back her labia, letting him see the big creamy mess he made inside of her.

"Wait until I get home Sunday!" he snapped, lifting his pants from the floor.

She pissed him off.

And he let her.

He grabbed his small work duffle, and the garment bag he stuffed his old uniform in and slapped her thigh.

"Fix those clothes in the drawers," he grumbled.

After he left, she teased him mercilessly with several bathroom selfies of her voluptuous breasts and pancake areolas. Her big nipples stuck out hard, and she knew he would suffer at work seeing them all weekend and unable to touch them. During his lunch break, he went into a restroom stall and recorded himself urinating. Using his pelvic muscles, he made his dick twitch and spill urine on the seat. His penis was still big while flaccid, and moving it as he splashed into the toilet would excite her. He shot off the clip to her and later, during another break in his car, she sent him video clips from her smartphone of herself fingering her wet pussy and sucking on her nipples while she watched his video on her tablet. Sex was their shared passion. Their best form of communication.

"You were mean to me today," she texted afterward.

He jerked off in the car, re-watching her squirt all over herself. His dick was the object of her affection when she watched him piss. To her, it was just as sexy as watching him ejaculate semen. It came from inside of him, therefore it was precious to her.

She sent more photos of herself looking down at the phone with her breasts hanging with her tongue partially sticking out. He fucking loved her, and immediately sent her a sweating face emoji with hearts, and couldn't wait to fuck her like a goddamn wild man.

Back at work, he did some emergency drills and then took his place at the duty station, overseeing lower ranked soldiers.

Roderick's phone call shattered the routine of his evening. He couldn't leave work to deal with her, so he had to suffer the entire weekend.

Sasha didn't know that Roderick notified him of the cops. She kept sending him loving texts. Asked him what he wanted for supper on his return home.

"I picked up your uniform, and I organized the drawers properly, Daddy," she texted.

He ignored it, pretending to be busy.

She never mentioned having a gathering at his place that weekend. Technically, it was their shared residence, but his name was the only one on the lease. That meant any problems that occurred with the cops reflected on him in the complex. It wasn't a rarity to have the police called around there for noise ordinances. It was predominately military living there, so close to the base. Lots of parties occurred. But he'd never had them called on him until Sasha moved in. He didn't want that reputation, and he didn't want to dump her like he did his last girlfriend, who stayed out of pocket with him until he had enough. She was disobedient in other ways, but not enough to bring the authorities his way. His reputation and moral character around town was everything to him. He'd hate to let go of amazing pussy and fat titties. Terry was already thinking of putting a ring on Sasha's finger after only six months of being together. Babygirl was that perfect.

Except for when she acted out in ways he didn't like.

Sunday couldn't come fast enough.

He'd have Monday and Tuesday off. Plenty of time to course correct Sasha.

After showering and shaving on base, he drove to his complex in the early evening without telling her the exact time he was coming back.

He crept up the stairs to his second floor. The onsite apartment manager taped another yellow noise complaint notice to his door. He pulled it down and read the warning while sliding his key in. Stepping inside, the living room lights were off, but the bedroom and hall lights were on. She'd cooked something because the odor of something good still wafted in the apartment. He kicked off his shoes, already upset that she wasn't there to greet him.

Dropping his bags and the warning notice on the couch, he padded to their master bedroom.

Sasha was sucking down another woman's box on his bed.

Jasmine.

Both women were oblivious to him being there.

Terry sat down on the side chair in the room facing the bed and watched them go at it. Sasha had a small vibrator inserted into her vagina that also stimulated her clit. It was a cute little pink toy that hummed along to their sex play. His irritation from the notice simmered in the back of his mind. It took him a few minutes to settle into watching his woman and her side piece. Their moans and soft murmurings lulled him into arousal.

He started playing with his dick, pulled it out all the way along with his balls. Smearing pre-cum all around the bulbous head, he took slow strokes up and down, staying underneath the thick ridge. Sasha's pussy looked so pretty, with the pink toy snug inside of her. Her lover thrashed her head back and forth. He fisted his dick faster, smacking on his balls, wishing her pussy could go all the way down on him.

Jasmine came in Sasha's mouth and his lady love's pussy throbbed with a powerful orgasm. Sasha smacked her lips and moaned as her pussy took the internal vibrations. She glanced over her shoulder.

"Daddy," she sputtered, shocked to see him sitting in the room.

Jasmine lifted on her elbows and grinned.

Terry stood and dragged Sasha by her foot to the end of the bed. He pulled out the small vibrator from her pussy and jammed the tip of his dick against her vulva and nutted all over it. Sasha squealed with delight at the man-handling and Jasmine stared with envy. She longed to suck and fuck him, but that would never happen.

"Come lick up his cum," Sasha said.

She smeared it all over her clit and Jasmine settled between her thighs, lowering her head to lick like a cat lapping up milk.

Terry pulled off the rest of his clothes. Sasha kept her eyes locked on his, ignoring Jasmine licking her way to glory. When most of his semen went down Jasmine's throat, he climbed onto the bed. Jasmine scooted over, giving his large body precedence. His dick bobbed and Sasha whimpered in expectation.

"So glad you're home," Sasha said.

Terry carefully placed his thumb and fingers on the sides of her neck. She relaxed under him.

"Jasmine, I think it's time for you to go home," he said.

Sasha blinked twice and her eyes darted over to Jasmine, disappointed that he didn't want their favorite voyeur staying for their lovemaking.

"Now, Jasmine."

Jasmine quickly left the room. They heard her scramble into her clothes and leave the apartment.

"What's wrong?"

He liked the hesitant tone in her voice. It threw her off.

"Do you enjoy living here with me, Sasha?"

She tried to sit up. He held her down by the throat. Still gentle, but gripped tight enough to let her know she wasn't getting up. Pushing his tip into her, she sucked in a breath and he squeezed the sides of her neck, careful to count out the seconds she could handle before easing the pressure. The opening of her pussy throbbed around him. He slowly pushed in, each inch parting her slippery walls. Jasmine made Sasha frothy and wide open for him. He stopped and squeezed her neck again, giving shallow thrusts and counting to her limit before releasing the controlled grip.

"Can we keep going? Do you need a break?"

"No Daddy, I can take it a little more. I'll tap you when to stop."

He pushed in to her limit, thick and heavy. Her pussy lips looked like a swollen vise around his girth, with the last of his inches unable to go in. Each time he pushed forward or pulled back, she gripped him with her walls, giving him the friction he dreamed about all weekend waiting to come home.

He began fucking her slowly, his hand clamped on her neck.

"Ready?"

She nodded and he pressed his fingers in again with gentle pressure, heightening her pleasure. Her eyes went glassy with lust. Although he choked her with their breath play, her pussy choked his dick and he released her neck to rock his hips into her with a steady rhythm.

"You feel so fucking good…taking care of Daddy's dick…"

He started kissing her, thrusting his tongue in her mouth, letting hers slide against his until the erotic sensation of their lips feeling raw and sensitive to the connection overtook him. Kissing her was life itself. He pulled back from her, still stretching her pussy, but not pumping into her.

"Roderick called me about the cops being here again. There was a warning notice on the door. What do you have to say about that?"

Her eyes widened, and she bit her bottom lip.

"How come you didn't tell me before I left about having people over here?"

"It was impromptu. A few friends, and then…a few more friends of friends…it was a wine and cheese thing and then…the cops showed up."

Terry pulled all the way out of her and left the bed.

"Do we have to talk about this now? Can we finish this and talk later?"

She breathed heavily, upset that his dick wasn't plowing her.

"What do you think will happen if I get another notice?"

She pressed her lips together for a second.

"It won't happen again. I promise."

"You said that last time two weeks ago."

"You won't have to worry. If I want to have a gathering again, I'll do it at Jasmine's. Please, Terry, don't be upset."

"What do I like more than anything at home?"

His hard dick pointed toward her and Sasha's eyes kept losing track of his face by focusing on his erection she wanted back in her guts.

"Peace and calm."

"My neighbor shouldn't be calling me about you. That means it disturbed him, too, and probably a lot of other people. If I get a third notice, the manager will break my lease. You know what that means? He can ask me to move. I picked this complex because it's close to my job. The job that takes care of you, and allows you to be my good girl. You've put our housing in jeopardy. Before I left for work, you were acting out and I didn't have time to really put you in your place. I've been super busy this past month and I think I've been letting you get away with too much. But I'm going to get back to proper discipline. No physical contact at all."

Her mouth dropped open.

"What?" she said.

"Spanking won't do this time. You don't get to have me until I think you get your behavior together."

He walked to his side of the bureau and pulled out lounging pants and a t-shirt. He strolled into the bathroom. She followed with panic in her eyes. He stretched his back and stood in front of the toilet. She reached for his dick to help him urinate, but he slapped her hand away.

"No," he said. "You don't even get to watch."

He arched an angry eyebrow, and she pouted. He ignored her breasts and the fat pussy he'd just been inside of that enticed him to cave.

"Out!"

She scuttled away like a little crab who sensed danger on sand.

He relieved himself and changed into his house clothes.

"I would like my dinner in half an hour," he called out.

He went into the spare bedroom where he set up a mini-gym and desktop computer. He checked sports updates before opening a porn app. His balls ached wanting to cum inside Sasha, but he searched for Black women masturbating and found one using a vibrator with large pussy lips that excited him. Fisting himself, he left the door open so Sasha could hear him and seethe. She slammed the kitchen cabinet doors and let some silverware clatter onto the table to show her anger at not getting his dick. He chuckled.

"Fix that attitude. This is your fault for being irresponsible," he called out.

His porn play pal had nice tits and a soft belly. He came into his hand.

"Your dinner is ready," Sasha called out.

He cleaned his hands in the bathroom and walked into the dining area with his mouth salivating. Smothered chicken and rice with French green beans drenched in garlic butter. Homemade and piping hot.

"This looks good, baby. Thank you."

He sat down and she sat across from him. They said grace together, and he stuffed his face, licking his fingers and complimenting her cooking. That perked her up, and yet she still stared at his chest in the tight T-shirt, and admired the sleeve tats.

He punished her for a month.

Sasha stayed on her A-game. Clean house. Clothes put away properly. Bed made so perfect that he could bounce a quarter on it. Uniforms pressed and already placed in his garment bag. She'd gone to the apartment manager and explained the situation with the loud party. Sasha claimed to be his house sitter who didn't know the rules about no loud noises after nine at night. Terry was pretty sure she jiggled her tits and flirted with the male manager. Her legs in some stiletto heels would do the trick easy. The manager actually ignored the second noise warning…and the first, clearing Terry's apartment record.

In bed, she suffered from wanting to curl under or around him, but he stayed on his side with his back to her. She knew better than to seek out Jasmine for respite. It wouldn't be a satisfying, playful romp when she yearned only for her man's affections. She thought it best to accept the dry spell.

Meals…impeccable.

Cocktails at the door…refreshing.

Terry slowly started showing her physical affection with a kiss on the cheek goodbye in the morning. He brought home flowers and gifts again with kisses on the forehead.

He ended her punishment by walking into the bathroom as she smoothed unscented body butter all over her naked body after a shower. She stared at him in the mirror as he stood behind her. He circled his hand around her throat, forcing her to turn her face to the side so he could kiss her.

Sasha moaned into his mouth and broke into tears of joy.

"I won't disappoint you gain," she whispered into his mouth.

"That's all I want from you, baby. Follow my rules."

He continued kissing her, lifting those glorious breasts.

"Will you fuck me now?" she pleaded.

"Of course."

Sasha whimpered at the deep rasp of his morning voice. She leaned forward, and he entered her. Cupping her breasts, he fucked her hard and fast. Her pussy squelched, and she cried, her tears of happiness wetting her face.

"I'm sorry, Daddy…sorry, Daddy…sorry, Daddy…!"

"Pussy so fucking good…I missed these big titties…tight pussy…oh babygirl…fuck Daddy's dick!"

He studied her expression in the mirror.

"Want Daddy to punish this pussy?"

"Yes!"

"Take this dick then…take it…take it babygirl…oh you're taking it deep…oh shit! Oh, shit!"

She still couldn't take him in all the way, but it truly felt like he got in deeper than he'd been before. Her eyes looked up to the ceiling, then rolled back. She squirted everywhere, soaking his dick.

He ejaculated hard enough to make him lift onto his toes. He dropped to his knees to smother his face in her ass and pussy, wanting to feel the back rush of his cum dripping out of her.

His bladder poked at him. He drank an extra glass of water for the occasion.

"Get in the tub, baby," he said.

Sasha yelped with excited anticipation. She climbed into the tub and he handed her a towel that she folded as a knee cushion. Once she was comfortable, he rested his balls on her mouth and she sucked them while playing with her clit and pussy lips.

"Let me hear that wet pussy, Sasha."

She flicked her clit and used her three middle fingers. He stared down at her, reaching for a heavy breast.

"You ready, baby?"

She hummed with his nuts in her mouth.

"You'll be my dirty little slut? Huh, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy…yes, I'll be your dirty little slut…"

"Oh, let me hear that pussy talk, Sasha!"

Sasha whimpered, and her tone was on the edge.

"Daddy's 'bout to give you what you want…get ready…oh…get ready…"

"I'm still your good girl!"

Her tongue slid up and down the underside of his dick, her words warm on his skin.

"Sasha…baby…fuck…dirty little slut letting me do whatever I want!"

Terry took a step back, and Sasha kept pleasuring her pussy. She tilted her head back. A hot stream of urine flew out of him and splashed all over her breasts. Holding his release for a longer period made the sensation of voiding his bladder sweeter. It felt almost as good as an orgasm soaking her.

Sasha's glassy eyes looked far away. She was in her pleasure zone, cumming so hard she couldn't even speak anymore. He drained himself all over her tits, and she slumped back with loud pants.

"Goddamn, that was fucking good!" he shouted to the ceiling.

His aftercare was tender with her.

He used the shower nozzle to rinse her off first before he cleaned her with honeysuckle body wash. Helping her stand up, he rubbed her vulva, thighs and backside, then lathered up her tits. He rinsed her off, then stuck the nozzle back up high and joined her in the shower for a long rinse with hotter water. They kissed as heat steamed around them, his arms cradling her.

"I don't like punishing you like that. It hurt me not to touch you for a month, baby," he hummed in her ear.

She hugged him tight.

Back in their bedroom, they made slow love on the bed. She rode him and he praised her…worshipped her body.

"I love you, Sasha."

"I love you, too, Terry. I want to make you happy."

"I want to make you happy every day. You're really the boss of me. Everything I do is for you."

"I know. I'm yours, Daddy. Let me take care of this dick."

He held his legs wide open, and she rode him backward, perched between his thighs at an angle. He let her slide up and down to the depths she could take and watched her pussy work his length. She slid back to sit on his face, where he slathered her folds with a wide, wet tongue.

They finished with him on top of her, declaring his undying love. He came all over her breasts, and hugged her tight under the covers, playing with her nipples and making plans for their future.

Terry cooked them a late brunch and cleaned the kitchen himself. Sasha washed clothes and looked up a movie for them to go see. All was well until he went to his sock drawer and found unmatched pairs with underwear mixed in.

"Sasha!"

She sauntered in, carrying one of his belts folded in her hand.

"Shall I assume the position?" she teased.

"Once a brat, always a brat," he said.

He chased Sasha around the room until he caught her, snatching the belt away and pushing her down on his lap.

Terry taught her a new lesson.

And, of course, she loved it.

A.N.:

Made a fresh upload of this story. I feel like my work isn't showing up in the Aaron Pierre/Terry Richmond tags like they should, so I'm making new posts to see if they show up with less tags on them. The number of followers I have isn't matching up with likes and reblogs, so maybe people aren't seeing my stories because of Tumblr glitches. I dunno.