#ratedr

[bunnypansy]

The Perfect Fit

Rated R for EXPLICIT CONTENT!

You're new to the Devildom and you'd love some positive attention from Lucifer- you suppose now is your best chance to get it, but you might be in over your head.

Featuring: Lucifer, and you! Beware! This film contains: cis!male!reader, lightly dubious consent, erotic asphyxiation, worship kink (reader acknowledges Lucifer as god in a few parts), Lucifer has a poorly hidden praise kink, facefucking, semi-public sex, light degradation (Lucifer calls reader a slut/whore a couple times), use of "good boy", light orgasm denial, mirror sex, begging, hair pulling, no condoms, Lucifer is overall a meanie, erhm it gets kinda messy even though I didn't mean to whoops

Lucifer doesn't use the lord's name anymore- but God, you were testing his patience.

This trip was fully necessary, you'd been dragged to the Devildom in an instant, left with no time to pack and you couldn't wear your uniform all the time. Lucifer usually would've employed another one of his brothers for this task, as a shopping trip with a human was a bit beneath him, but Asmodeus was busy, and the rest were generally unruly. 

He wasn't sure why you had to show him everything you tried on, but he was sure that it was making him feel things he'd rather not. The Devildom was hot, yes, but fucking hell; could you wear anything else?

The tight hug of tiny shorts around your thighs, the expanse of your skin visible beneath an all-too-small crop top, the dangerous swish of a skirt, the urge to lift it higher- no. No. About 20 minutes ago, he asked you to "dress more respectably", and now he was starting to regret it. 

The end begins when you peek out of the dressing room, to make a small request of Lucifer; a zipper is giving you trouble. Lucifer has half a mind to tell you to "put it back then", but for some idiotic reason, he follows you into the small stall. The door shuts behind him with a sense of finality.

"It's here, on the back." You turn your back to him, a funny thing to do when in such close proximity to a demon. He follows your hands and finds a small zipper at the waistline, tucked slightly beneath your fingers, an invisible one- the kind that always gets stuck. "Can you just pull it closed for me?"

Lucifer assumes this will be an easy task, giving you a little nod in response. He pinched the zipper between his thumb and forefinger, then pulled the zipper up- or tried to, anyway. The zipper stays firmly in place.

"You've really gotten yourself stuck, hm?" You watch Lucifer through the mirror in front of you, his lips pressing into a firm line. 

"Mm, yeah I guess…" It would've been nice to impress him with your more refined clothing choices, you'd like his approval, but this zipper seemed to be ruining things for you. 

Lucifer's grip shifted and your breath hitched, a hand moving to your hip and squeezing tightly. "Hold still."

You suppress a shudder as his breath ghosts across your skin, only responding to his command with a quick nod. Lucifer's fingers bear down, squishing the flesh of your hips until they find the points of bone beneath.

The tightness of the shorts is felt far before you recognize the sound of the zipper fastening shut. The black fabric squeezes around your waist and thighs with unforgiving firmness, the fat around your hips puffing out around the hems. You instinctually yearn to rip them off, but Lucifer's hands don't leave your hips.

Here, standing in front of the mirror in the dressing room, Lucifer finally got a good look at your outfit. A white chiffon blouse, the fabric beautiful against your skin, the black bow draping over your chest matching perfectly with the shorts you'd tucked the blouse into.

"This is better." A finger slips under the waistband of your shorts, pinned against your skin. A disapproving hum rises in his throat. "A bit tight." 

Under statement of the century, the shorts might as well be strangling you. Your throat is dry now, you lick your lips and try to force out words. "Yeah, I think they're a little too small."

Lucifer disagrees. The fabric pulls tight around your body, the high waist riding up high enough that he gets a peek at your ass and gives him a near-perfect imprint of your bulge. Hands slowly stroke your sides, up and down, from your ribcage to your hips; you and Lucifer are holding eye contact through the mirror.

Slowly, painfully, you watch while Lucifer's hand brushes its way down the front of your body. His hand lands on the soft swell in your pants, and you draw in a sharp breath. Surely, he won't do it- right? Lucifer, the refined, prideful man, would never grope a lowly human such as yourself.

"How does it feel?" Your thoughts come to an abrupt halt when Lucifer’s voice rumbles in your ear.

"How does-" You begin to turn, to look back to Lucifer and beg the question that burns you, but he squeezes your growing hard-on and you fall still with a strained gasp.

He reiterates the question, trying to burrow through the thickening fog of your brain. 

“How do the shorts feel?” Lucifer’s long fingers wiggle beneath the hemline of your shorts and briefs, smoothing over the skin of your tummy. It’s hard to think while he’s drawing circles on your skin, the soft leather of his gloves fueling the heat between your legs. 

“They, uh,” you swallow hard, “they feel good.” A strangled whimper spills from your throat when one of Lucifer’s hands encircles the base of your cock, his touch so faint it’s tantalizing.

“How good?” His is velvet-smooth in your ear, breath hot against your skin.

This was a terrible idea, the dressing rooms aren’t noise absorbent and Lucifer is a man of high status, it’s best if you both put this idea out of your minds. Logically, you both know better than to go on.

“Lucifer, we shouldn’t be doing this-” Your hand slaps itself over your mouth on instinct, muffling the dangerously loud whine that ripped from your throat; the demon had squeezed your shaft so tightly that it ached.

You can’t help but squirm when Lucifer lets out a disappointed sigh next to your ear, his hands sliding from your shorts. “That’s not what I asked.”

Your head spins as Lucifer shoves you up against the dressing room mirror, his hand on the back of your head and forcing your cheek into the cold glass. The popping of stitches is so loud that it feels like a gun has gone off in your ears, you flinch all the same when Lucifer unceremoniously tears off your shorts. 

“Now, let’s try again,” Lucifer discarded his glove in a heartbeat, and the sensitive nerves of your precum-slicked dick are exposed to the demon’s calloused skin. “Tell me how good it feels.”

Now, it’s not a question, Lucifer has given you a demand, spurred on by the quick and rough way he strokes your cock. Your body craves his touch, arching and bucking into Lucifer’s hand almost wildly with a chorus of pitiful whimpers. “Good- oh, f- good! It feels so-”

Lucifer abruptly stuffs his leather glove into your mouth with a scoff of disgust- you realize it tastes of the precum you leaked all over his hand.

“You’re too fucking noisy,” His stroking hand slowed to a near halt, squeezing so tightly around the tip of your cock that you wail into the glove between your teeth, pre dripping down your shaft and onto the dingey carpet in thick globs. “Are you trying to get caught? Do you know what will happen to you if Lord Diavolo hears of this?”

“A demon of such high ranking, like myself, having intimate relations with the human exchange? A much weaker,” the rough skin of Lucifer’s thumb brushes over your slit and you groan at the sting, tears gathering on your lash line, “more vulnerable creature.”

“A scandal like this would take a terrible toll on my standing.” He takes care to trace over the veins of your length, seemingly lost in thought and paying little mind towards your pathetic cries. “We’d have to get rid of you, of course.”

Blood stills in your veins; how painfully vague of him. Your attempts to argue are quickly dismissed, Lucifer only stuffs the glove further into your mouth with a condescending coo. 

“Hush, hush, no talking.” He pats your thigh comfortingly, like trying to quiet an anxious pet. “Perhaps my brothers could find some use for you before you’re discarded…”

Lucifer hums in thought, trailing his hand over your balls, then back towards your ass. Precum-slicked fingers draw tight circles over your rim, pausing to just barely press inside you and watch you squirm back against him. “Or maybe, we’d get to keep you.”

The suggestion has you beyond delighted, grinding back onto Lucifer’s hand with a moan and a trembling grin as he finally forces two fingers into your tight ass. “You’d look good in a cage, don’t you think?”

You’re in no position to disagree, bracing yourself against the mirror as you rock into the thrusts of Lucifer’s hand urgently. You need a little more, just a little more and you can cum. Your moans grow higher and higher in pitch- you’re not being subtle in the slightest. Your cock is twitching and throbbing vigorously, the rough tips of Lucifer’s fingers scraping against your insides only worsening the heat in your tummy. 

Your moans are beginning to sound more like sobs, turning utterly incoherent as you finally, finally- there’s a slick pop as Lucifer pulls his fingers out, leaving you dazed and needy. At last, you let the glove fall from between your teeth, turning back to plead with Lucifer but scarcely getting a whimper out before he grabs you by the cheeks. 

“You’re such a mess,” he laughs, actually laughs into your hot, tear-stained face. and drags you to the ground, leaving scuffs on your knees. “What makes you think you’ve earned the right to cum? What have you done for me?”

Lucifer’s hand tangles in the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your face into the tent in his pants. “If you do well, I’ll consider letting you cum, how’s that?”

You can feel the warmth of his erection on your cheek, your own cock spasming in response. Like a bitch in heat, you can’t help but nuzzle against his bulge, eager to get it out of his pants and inside you. Your clumsy hands make quick work of the buttons and zipper on his slacks, freeing his cock in a matter of seconds- you don’t even need instructions before you take the head of his dick in your mouth, sucking away the pre that had gathered at Lucifer’s tip. The taste is tangy, salty, and beckons you to take Lucifer’s cock further into your mouth. 

The promise of an orgasm makes you work hard; bobbing along Lucifer’s length, tracing your tongue over the veins on his length, squelching obscenely as you suck away at him. A hand tangles in your hair, pushing the stray tufts away from your face and tilting your head to stare up at Lucifer. You’re helpless to do anything but watch as he slides his hand to the back of your head, slowly pushing you to sleeve the rest of his cock into your throat. For a moment, you struggle against Lucifer’s grip, throat constricting around his dick as you attempt not to choke.

“Don’t struggle,” Lucifer warns, pressing your nose against the short hairs at his pelvis more firmly when you don’t listen. “Don’t.”

Finally, you go lax against him, tongue lolling out to lick at Lucifer’s sac while you go on attempting to slurp at his dick. Hesitantly, as if waiting for you to fight him once more, Lucifer pumps his hips against your face with a satisfied sigh. “Good boy, good boy; you’re doing perfect.”

You can feel the ridges and veins of his cock sliding over your tongue and scraping the inside of your throat. It aches but you don't move, you're too drunk on his praise to even consider it. 

He starts with a slow in-and-out pump, reassurance that you're not going to choke on his dick, before his grip shifts yet again. The hand once positioned in your hair slides down to your neck, Lucifer's wide palm covering the column of your throat with ease, his fingers digging into the soft flesh on either side–he's getting a firm grip. You panic on the first sharp thrust into your mouth, hands smacking at Lucifer's thighs frantically while you gag and retch around his length, but he hardly seems to notice.

The demon is utterly lost in his own pleasure, his head tilted back in hitched sighs as he fucks your throat with the same mindless ferocity as a toy. Wet gargles fill the small dressing room as you desperately attempt to get a single breath, fingers curled in the fabric of Lucifer's pants. Air, you need air, you can't get a proper breath in with Lucifer's dick filling your throat. The corners of your vision are starting to go dark, your head fuzzy, your lungs are beginning to burn. 

Only when you're sure that Lucifer is going to let you suffocate does he pull you off his cock, thick webs of saliva stuck to his tip and your lips. You gasp and cough wetly, the lightheadedness fading with each new inhale.

"Up on your feet." The command comes and you nearly sob, nothing sounds more impossible to you than standing.

With deer legs, you stumble into something resembling a standing position, still huffing and whimpering weakly. 

"Hands against the mirror, now." Lucifer motions with a hand for you to turn around and stand against the mirror and like an obedient bitch, you do so.

Mostly, you're leaning on the mirror, chest pressed up against the glass and hips tilted back for Lucifer, you're too exhausted to do much else.

"No, not like that." Lucifer sighs in annoyance, grasping you by the hips and pulling you back until you're bent over at the waist, only your palms flat against the mirror.

The moments of silence between his words left you trembling with anticipation, sweaty palms leaving sticky prints on the mirror. A fingertip traces a trail of fire down your spine, before smoothing flat against the small of your back, steadying you as the tip of Lucifer's cock squishes up against your rim. You expect him to push forward, to finally fuck you like you need- but he waits, the head of his dick pressed to your entrance, with no sign of moving. Your impatience grows, cock leaking precum over your thighs, slickening your skin as you rub them together.

"Lucifer…?" With a small rock back, you whine of his name, trying to coax him into fucking you.

He only pulls his hips back, drawing a pitiful noise from your throat. "Beg. Beg for me to fuck you."

Your words catch in your throat, shame keeping you quiet. When Lucifer's hand strikes your thigh, you have to bite your lip to muffle a yelp.

"I could leave you here; a dripping, needy, slut." His words are a cruel hiss, forcing tears to well in your eyes. "Just beg, tell me how badly you want me inside of you, or you get nothing." 

Still, your jaw is firmly closed, far too ashamed to say anything- until Lucifer begins to pull away. 

"No! No, no, please," the threat becomes real and you panic, bracing one arm against the mirror and using your free hand to spread yourself open for him. "Please Lucifer, I want you so bad, I need you…"

Every word is a whisper, still afraid of getting caught, but too worked up to possibly go without Lucifer's cock now. A self-satisfied smile spreads across Lucifer's face as he retakes his place behind you.

"So you can beg, what an obedient whore." The tip of Lucifer's dick taps against your hole, before he slowly slides past your rim with a low groan. "Fuck… are you this tight for everyone, or am I special?"

"Jus- just you…" You barely manage to murmur back, but Lucifer is beyond pleased with your answer, finally driving cock to the hilt with a low groan- you are a perfect fit for his cock.

Now he sets his pace, something steady and forceful that fucks the thoughts from your head on every inward stroke, the walls of the dressing room one hard thrust away from trembling beneath your weight. With every pull back, the head of Lucifer's dick drags over your prostate, your legs twitching and quivering in sensitivity- it's taking everything in you to stay quiet, but that's not what Lucifer wants.

"Talk- come on, talk for me, pretty boy, tell me how good you feel." With that gasping command your mouth falls open and a flood of praise rolls out.

"You feel so good, thank you, fuck, thank you- harder, please-" Any thought of silence is lost in the haze of lust, pleading for Lucifer to go harder, to go faster, for more, more, more. 

Lucifer throws his head back with an unrestrained groan, slamming his hips against yours with unprecedented speed and force, tearing moans from your chest with ease. 

"Oh God-" Lucifer grips your hair tightly to cut off your cry, his tone turning furious.

"Don't you-" he loses his words in a slew of curses for a moment. "-don't you ever call for anyone else, fuck, I am your god, understand?"

The moment he asks, you nod- but that's not enough. The hold on your hair tightens, and Lucifer pulls your head back, forcing you to face your reflection in the glass; covered in your own spit and tears, the thin white fabric of your blouse turned sheer from sweat.

"Say it." Lucifer's voice drops to a dangerous hiss, his free hand moving to stroke the length of your dick in time with his thrusts.

You let out a wail the moment he touches you, a fresh stream of tears welling up and rolling down your cheeks.

"You! You're m-my God!" It's slurred and sobbed, but at this moment, you mean your words completely. 

Abruptly, Lucifer pulls you back against his chest by the scalp, then locks his arm around your neck, constricting your airways. 

"Who?" Lucifer presses on, prompting another answer from you.

Even though your voice is strained through his tight grip, you call out for him, an obedient worshipper. "Lucifer!"

He lets out a shuddering sigh of pleasure. "Again."

"Lucifer!" You answer, and his pace falters for a moment. 

"Again, louder." He commands once more, and you follow.

"Lucifer!" His hips pump into you even faster, and your cock is beginning to throb erratically, you're so close. 

"Louder!" Lucifer's voice pounds through your skull, you think this must be madness.

"Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer!" At last, your orgasm hits you all at once with an ear-splitting scream, every muscle in your body drawing taut within Lucifer's hold.

You arch against him, legs kicking at his shins as Lucifer holds you up by nothing but his arm around your throat, your cum splattering against the fitting room mirror. With all your tightening and convulsing, Lucifer's orgasm isn't far behind, his thrusts have turned irregular and unsteady- but you're struggling for breath, clawing his prim black dress shirt in desperation.

At last, you feel hot cum flood your insides in tandem with Lucifer's shuddering groan, and a heartbeat later, he lets you go. You crumple beneath your weight, letting his cock slip free from your ass as you fall forward against the mirror. You can't help but see yourself- rather, the mess you've become. Heaving and panting, your face glistening with saliva, tears, and snot, strands of your cum caught in your hair and smeared over your skin from where you hit the mirror.

"Well, then." Lucifer is already tucking his dick back into his pants, retrieving his discarded gloves from the floor. "Get up, we've been here long enough."

Tongue heavy in your mouth, you can barely even form the words to protest. "I… I can't…"

A firm hand grasps your upper arm and yanks you up to your feet. Feeling Lucifer's cum ooze from your ass, you can't help but shiver- a few drops hit your calves and soak into your boxers, still looped around your ankles.

Lucifer huffs out a disappointed mutter when you sag against him, then guides you to wrap your arms around his neck. Luckily, Lucifer helps you redress yourself, pulling your boxers back up, then stuffing you back into your uniform dress pants- however, you're left in the sweat-stained blouse. 

Lips press against your ear, a whispered threat. "You're going to walk by yourself. If you stumble or don't keep up, I will whip you bloody- understand?"

There's nothing you can do but nod. You've given yourself to Lucifer completely, mind, body, and soul- and a worshipper does not deny the requests of his god.

That will be all for today's showing folks, as always, thank you for viewing!

This was made based on a prompt I submitted to @akunya in uhhh... checks watch oh god February. I didn't mean to take this long. I started writing half of this several months ago, then I opened it this morning and suddenly blasted through the rest in like 5 hours. Possessed by the spirit of horny I guess...

[wherever-i-look-blog]

"Love Lies Bleeding" Pins Your Face Down in Its Madness https://tinyurl.com/2as56f62

[raurquiz]

#happybirthday @rihanna #rihanna #singer #actress #sledgehammer #startrekbeyond #anti #unapologetic #loud #goodgirlgonebad #ratedr #musicofthesun #agirllikeme #talkthattalk #WreckItRalph #valerian #battleship #home #thisistheend #LovecraftCountry #BlackPanther #wakandaforever

[popemartha]

dude…

[backofthejazzbus]

Some more late #vinyl additions #rihanna #agirllikeme #nickiminaj #pinkfriday #ratedr #summerwalker #stilloverit #romeomustdiesoundtrack #jlo #thisismethen https://www.instagram.com/p/CnaI8tIppm6/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[toncharts]

Avaliação do Álbum 'Rated R' de Rihanna

Quer saber mais sobre a minha avaliação das faixas do álbum 'Rated R' de Rihanna? Confira aqui e descubra a média final do álbum!

Rihanna

Rated R

20 nov 2009

14

pop dance

1

MAD HOUSE

2

WAIT YOUR TURN

3

HARD

Jeezy

4

STUPID IN LOVE

5

ROCKSTAR 101

Slash

6

RUSSIAN ROULETTE

7

FIRE BOMB

8

RUDE BOY

9

PHOTOGRAPHS

will.i.am

10

G4L

11

TE AMO

12

COLD CASE LOVE

13

THE LAST SONG

14

HOLE IN MY HEAD

ano2009 atoRihanna albumRatedR generopop generodance avaliação álbum 2009 Rihanna RatedR RihannaRatedR

[kristineknowlton]

This week at Kat Box Comedy

Monday 01/23 Game On 8PM EST Wed 01/25 Kat Box Improv ???

Sat 01/28 RiffTrax at 8PM EST

http://twitch.tv/katboxcomedy

.

.

#twitch #gamer #twitchaffiliate #streaming #schedule #katbox #katboxcomedy #kristineknowlton #comedy #improv #rifftrax #cartoons #improvfusion #pinball

[backside-into-the-heavenly]

The Army-Navy Game is one of the most storied rivalries in sports, but it’s also one of the most respectful. A perfect example of this camaraderie is the prisoner exchange—a unique ritual that highlights the unity between service academies despite the fierce competition on the field.

This tradition stems from the Service Academy Exchange Program, created in 1945 and extended to a semester-long experience in 1975. Through this program, cadets and midshipmen spend a semester at their rival academy, fostering a deeper understanding of their counterparts before they serve alongside one another in defense of the country.

On game day, these “exchange students” are symbolically “returned” to their home academies in a ceremony led by the first captain of Army and the brigade commander of Navy. The freed “prisoners” join their classmates in the student section, ensuring they can cheer for their team without enduring the game among opposing fans.

In 2016, the exchange students made a playful statement, wearing uniforms that read “14 Years” to celebrate Navy’s 14-game winning streak in the rivalry—a streak Army ended that same year with a dramatic 21-17 victory.

The prisoner exchange is a testament to the shared values of service and unity that transcend the game, making the Army-Navy rivalry unlike any other in sports.

#ArmyNavyGame #PrisonerExchange #CollegeFootballTradition #ServiceAcademies #ArmyVsNavy #CommanderInChiefsTrophy #FootballWithHonor #MilitaryRivalry #GoArmy #GoNavy #RatedRed

[bunnypansy]

NSFW Alphabet: Rook Hunt!

Rated R for EXPLICIT CONTENT!

A short (hm.) script covering the ABCs of Rook's sex life!

Featuring: Rook Hunt, and you!

Beware! This film contains: gender neutral reader, knife play, blood play, sounding, somnophilia, predator/prey dynamics, voyeurism, exhibitionism, nudes, sex tapes, mirror sex, marking, dacryphilia, praise, body worship, masochism, overstimulation, bondage, impact play, guided masturbation, mutual masturbation, cucking (yeah), dick piercings, outdoor sex, public sex, stalking, face sitting, nipple play

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

You will NEVER catch a member of Pomefiore lackin when it comes to aftercare. No one is better at pillow talk than Rook Hunt. Too good. Make him stop talking. Seriously, this guy starts talking after you finish and doesn't stop until you fall asleep. Mostly about how well you did, how beautiful you are, certain things you did that he particularly liked. Rook doesn't like baths, so he'll give you a shower instead, but he's still going to pamper you. You won't have to lift a single finger- frankly he won't let you. After a soothing shower that he used as an excuse to worship your body, he'll place you in front of a vanity and tend to you like you're a delicate doll. A hand tucked beneath your knee as he lifts your leg, fingers smoothing over your thigh as he rubs a sweet-scented lotion into your skin, his mutterings becoming muffled through your sleepy haze.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For Rook to pick a single part of you he loves the most of an impossible task, this boy could go on and on and on about every part of your body down to your fingernails…however…. It's your eyes, definitely. He takes pleasure in seeing every micro expression you make, and your eyes just give it away. Definitely enjoys heavy eye contact during sex.

Rook’s favorite part of himself? Elementary, Watson, it’s his shoulders. Why, you ask? Well for one, his shoulders are very broad and well defined (catch me pushing my dorito-Rook agenda) from all the archery, and they’re still dotted with freckles from all his time in the sun, so he appreciates them aesthetically. However, much more important is the scratches you leave on them; red, raised, sometimes bleeding, nothing pleases him more than the physical evidence of your pleasure on his body.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

So… if you guys know anything about the semen and diet connection, you probably know that a high protein diet results in a very salty and sometimes uh… nasty flavor. We know Rook does a lot of exercise, and protein is a necessary component for building muscle so the first time you swallow for him it's a pretty gross experience. However, with a sustained relationship, Rook will happily change his diet for you so his cum has a bit more of a neutral taste. In terms of texture, he remains well hydrated so it's a bit syrupy and has a nice slightly off-white color. Rook likes cumming both in and on you, so every time you fuck, you are sure to end up with cum dripping from your hole and stuck to your face by the end of the night.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He desperately wants to let a couple other men have their way with you and photograph the whole thing. Rook has always enjoyed watching you masturbate, nearly as much as he enjoys bringing you pleasure, this is simply a natural progression of those desires. Ideally, there'd be If he could truly have his way, he'd film everything, then make you watch it back while he fucks you; the whole time commenting on little things you do that drive him crazy and attempting to recreate what happened in the video. Honestly, Rook is so up front about what he wants that is hardly a secret

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

His experience is middling. I believe Rook has probably had 3-4 relationships, but none of them lasted longer than a year (he was a bit too obsessive and his partners were put off). He's fairly experienced, but also knows that it's important to learn the intricacies of every person he's with, and not everything he knows will work instantly. Rook will approach every session like a learning experience, exploring new places and techniques to make sure he can find all the little spots that drive you crazy- and once he does, God knows he's going to abuse the fuck outta them. Also his first time was in the woods, thanks

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Before I start, I'm drawing a firm line; Rook Hunt does not like doggy style- or anything where he can't see your face! He firmly believes that any position where he can't see your beauty is a waste of his time. So of course he likes missionary and the mating press, but his real favorites require some extra supplies. Namely a mirror. If Rook is feeling rough, he'll shove you right up against the mirror and take you from behind; but usually he prefers to have you settled on his lap, one arm hooked beneath your leg to lift it up to your shoulder as he fucks you. He likes having the free hand to tease you with (:

Now, I know everybody likes big dom Rook but he's a switch okay guys. The seeing your face rule sticks for even when he bottoms, he needs to see you constantly. Honestly missionary has to take number one for him, but he's also real fond of being tied to the bed, it gives him no choice but to admire you as you work.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Usually if there's laughter in the bedroom, it's just Rook teasing you a bit, but that doesn't mean he's no fun! Having a partner you can laugh with is valuable to Rook, so if something happens while you're fucking it out, he won't be afraid to giggle a little, maybe poke a bit of fun at you, then rather easily slip right back into sexy times.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He's part of Pomefiore, did you think this man was anything but well-shaved? Frankly, his pubic hair is beautiful, somehow princely?? It's fine and light, but very soft and incredibly well trimmed- not to mention always clean, and never smells like ball sweat. He can't manage to grow a happy trail, just a tiny little path that starts beneath the waistband of his pants and ends in a small tuft at the base of his dick. Otherwise, he's completely shaved down there, smooth balls and not even ass hair.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Painfully so. Rook will be intimate with whomever he chooses to bed, fuck buddies, one night stand or long term lover, it’s just in his nature. He has a knack for making your feel like the most gorgeous, lovable person on the planet while you two have sex- it’s something in the way he holds you, unabashedly keeping his eyes on your face the entire time he presses kisses against your neck between proclamations of your beauty, checking in and focusing wholly on how you feel. Your pleasure is his, afterall. Never, not even once, will you get the impression that Rook isn’t madly in love with you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

A lot. Once a day, maybe more, if we're all honest with ourselves. Rook is a man who loves indulging his senses- He's got a high libido and he uses his own orgasm as an energy boost, which is enough to make a horny man, but he's also incredibly easy to rile up. He fully indulges the pleasure of masturbation, his favorite places to do so being your bed and outside. Rook really draws out the process; starting with gloves on, letting the leather get slick from his own precum as he slowly strokes up and down the length, squeezing around the tip just for a bit of extra pressure. Eventually, he'll pull the glove off and touch himself a bit more fervently, by now he's getting noisier, letting slip soft calls of your name, whimpering as he rocks his hips into his hand. Rook only whacks it while thinking about or looking at pictures of you, after all, you're the most beautiful thing in the world, what else would he touch himself to?

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks):

Voyeurism: I think we could all see this coming. The stalker, a voyeur?! Shocking. He prefers when you don't know he's watching you (he'll receive consent beforehand don't worry boo-boo), something about the thrill of getting caught makes blood rush to his dick. Please let him take photos though

Photography/filming: Master of the nude.Sending you nudes, receiving nudes, whatever it is, Rook likes it. Rook’s nudes are downright artful. The lighting and angles are always perfect, even at night, and he never fails to look beautiful. Rook is the king of the post work-out gym bathroom photo; standing before the mirror with the hem of his shirt between his teeth. He likes to record when he's fucking you too, just so he can watch it throughout his day as a sort of pick me up. He's also fond of some good photos after sex when you're an absolute mess, expect for him to gush over them in your presence

Exhibitionism: this goes well with the voyeurism kink, one of his greatest fantasies would be watching you have sex with another person, then get caught jerking off to you two

Mirror sex: Tenfold if you're self-conscious, he makes your anxiety his pet project. To Rook Hunt, there is nothing sexier than sitting you in lap, legs spread, forced to watch yourself while he fucks you to stupidity. Not to mention, he gets the best view of your body.

Marking: Take a shot every time you read beautiful- but really, he thinks you look beautiful covered in little rose and violet hickies. A painting of his conception, an empty canvas covered in his marks. If you cover them with makeup he'll sneakily wipe it away every time you see each other that day.

Dacryphilia: there's nothing that makes his pride swell more than bringing you to pleasured tears. Of course, Rook isn't the type to enjoy your pain, he'll never want to see you cry because you're scared or hurt, but if it's because you're overwhelmed? Then he's happy to make you cry even harder.

Praise: Again, a guy who cannot stop talking, specifically about you. It's even worse if you're self-conscious; he'll make you sit in front of a mirror, on his lap and guide you through every part of your body and why he loves it, and you. Oh and of course Rook does the standard encouragement. Murmuring sweet things as he slowly pushes into you; "good job, you're taking me so well" or "deep breaths, darling, I'm almost all the way in". And when you're close to cumming; "ah- you're close, aren't you? Go on, cum for me, you can do it"

Body worship: I feel like this one is obvious. He loves everything about you, he finds every inch positively beautiful. If Rook wasn't so hopelessly horny for you, he'd do nothing but kiss every part of your body up and down. But alas. Horny.

Predator/Prey: must I even elaborate? Man is literally a hunter. However, Rook prefers a long con; stalking you throughout the day, appearing here and there, then finally striking when you're all alone. What he really likes is watching you get nervous and fidgety before you finally break and run away from him, so Rook can chase after you. In the end it'll probably end up with you two wrestling and he's absolutely okay with however it turns out- win or lose

Overstimulation: this is on pleasure dom Rook!!! All Rook really wants to do is make you feel good as much as possible, even if that leaves you twitching and crying because you've cum 6 times in a row.

Masochism: PAINSLUT ROOK!!! Rook likes everything you give him, and if what you give him happens to be pain? So be it, lay it on, baby. Nails scratching down his back, biting, hitting- just anything

Bondage: something about being physically tied down makes him feel like a hunted animal, like you two have been fighting back and this is the result of his failure. Rook, the perfect hunter, lines to feel like he's been defeated once in a while, it keeps things fresh!

Impact play: This is for bottom Rook for sure, but please spank him, slap him, whip him. You could slap Rook across the face and he'd get hard. I'm not even kidding. He's particularly fond of riding crops, especially on the inside of his thighs or across his back

Knife play: cut him. Do it. Do it. Do it. Being roughed up makes Rook feel satisfied, bruising, bleeding. And yeah he'd absolutely be okay with branding- if you're in a long term relationship. Cut your name into his thigh, he wants it

Blood play: Rook finds the look of blood against skin striking and gorgeous, he's not inclined to hurt you unless you ask, you can draw blood from him however you like. Hitting him til he gets a bloody nose? Hot. Biting him til he bleeds? Hot. Cutting him up? Hot.

Somnophilia: Rook is nasty okay. His stalker tendencies and love of vulnerability have made a monster, and if you'd let him, Rook would love to sneak in your room and fuck you while you're fast sleep

Guided/mutual masturbation: tell me that Rook wouldn't make you sit on his lap while you jerk off, you can't. Sat in front of a mirror, guiding you through every move so he can watch you write and get his lap all wet. Ahhh he's so cute

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

If you're okay fucking somewhere, so is Rook. If you let him, Rook would fuck you in front of anyone and everyone, this is NOT hyperbole. While the preference isn't strong, I think Rook probably prefers to have sex in public places that anyone could walk into; living room, kitchen, the counter of a public bathroom- of course the woods is a classic. The risk of being caught gives him a thrill that the bedroom just can't do!

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

It's the little things with Rook; how your neck looks when you turn your head, the little way you jump when he sneaks up behind you, how it feels when he can overpower you. Generally, Rook likes seeing you vulnerable, that's part of the reason he enjoys stalking so much.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Genuinely this was so hard to think of, but Rook won't treat you like trash. I know some of us like mean, cruel men, but Rook won't do it, he refuses to mar your beauty or tell lies about his feelings towards you. One of Rook's defining traits is unwavering, brutal honesty, so chances are Rook will never degrade you- he just cares too much. Doesn't mean you can't degrade him though-

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Giving, for sure. He likes seeing the cute faces you make while sucking him off, sure, but he thinks the noises you make while he's tongue fucking you are much better. If Rook is going to give you, head you're going to ride his face though- it's the best position! Sitting on Rook's face means A) he can see all your facial expressions and B) you can quite easily make him do whatever you want, which sounds lovely to him

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Honestly Rook will move at whatever pace you like but let's forget about that for a minute. Rook naturally wants to start out slow and sensual, dragging his cock along your walls, making sure to hit all your sensitive spots with each thrust in and out. As he goes along, Rook gets more excited and his thrusts pick up speed, turning a bit more rough and shallow until he's finally cumming. When Rook cums, he goes still while he's fully inside you, shuddering and moaning as he fills you up. He's got a habit for biting when he cums, like an animal sinking his teeth in to make sure you stay there while he finishes.

Now, I'll elaborate on quick rounds with Rook because they're a bit different. If you need to be fast, or if Rook is so horny he's gone feral, the word "slow" exits his dictionary. His thrusts start and stay hard, fast, and deep, it really gets across the desperation he feels good you, how cute 🫶

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Absolutely! Rook has no problems with a little pick-me-up sex, something to just satisfy your needs and move on. Of course, he prefers to draw out sex, but also takes a good amount of pleasure in tearing as many orgasms from you as fast as he can before sending you on your way, weak-kneed and sweating. I like to think Rook keeps a vibrator on him just got this sort of occasion

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Are you kidding me rn. Rook is the risk man, the only ones fighting him for this position are the tweels, and it's real close. Rook could approach you with something new to try every single week, and if you're the one to ask for experimenting, it's highly unlikely Rook will never say no. Maybe to like… vomit? Any way you slice it, Rook if freaky deaky and pulling you along with it

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

We all know Rook is athletic, baby!! I give it six rounds before Rook gets a bit too overstimulated and needs to give his dick a break before it turns purple, but he's happy to go on pleasuring you while he gets a little rest- but chances are you're exhausted by then too. How long each round lasts really depends on what you're doing, but he can last around 25-35 minutes before- not including any foreplay -so it'll really be up to you to keep up

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

This country boy is mostly an acoustics only partner. It's not that he's against toys, there's just nothing he's particularly interested in using on you. I believe Rook owns a good ol wand vibrator that he uses on you during guided/mutual masturbation, just because he appreciates how squirmy and whiny you get when he presses the toy against your sensitive spots.

But if you're using toys on him oh well… that is a different story. I think he mostly prefers good ol 'weiner up his ass, but Rook is real fond of a good vibrating cock ring and a few bullet vibes- taped to his nipples or the base of his cock. He also likes nipple clamps, ball gags, blind folds, riding crops, and basic whips.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

You'll be shocked but Rook mostly likes to play things fair, he'll tease a little but Rook is straightforward. If Rook wants to fuck you, he'll just come out and ask, no need for any roundabout games! When it comes to actually having sex, Rook wants to make you feel good, he's not going to delay making you cum your brains out!

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Rook Hunt is for sure the noisiest man you’ve ever met. Not that he’s a screamer, moreso, he will not stop talking. We all know he can go on for hours about things he’s passionate about, but he’ll hardly let you get a word in edgewise, he’s too busy going on and on babbling about how gorgeous you are, how good you feel, praising how well you’re doing, murmuring sweet nothings- proud member and president of the “can’t shut the fuck up” club. Of course, you’ll get some good, loud moans from him too (usually interrupting his endless chatter). Rook is more of a moan guy than a grunt guy, it comes out high and is usually accompanied with a shudder and pleased sigh.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Sounding. This is WILD but Rook likes wild, and he would absolutely be 1000% be down for sounding, in fact he's the one who brought it up. He's already done research, he's already bought toys- come babe, keep up, get the rod in his dickhole already!! (Also I think he has piercing nipples, they're just basic golden studs, but they look cute on him)

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Rook is rocking long but kinda skinny. He's around 5.5 inches in flaccid, getting up to an even 7 when he's fully hard- man is a major league grower. As I said, a bit on the skinny side and no prominent veins, but his tip is a lovely cute pink and he gets so twitchy and leaky when he's hard. I'm not sure he has a dick piercing, just because he's a bit worried about the healing interrupting his sex life or exercise, but Rook has thought about getting a piercing or two- guiche or prince Albert I think

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Turning on Rook is like turning on a light switch; you only need one good slap and you could do it with your eyes closed. You could breathe too close to him and Rook would get hard. Rook would fuck you every single day, multiple times a day if you let him. He's not afraid to ask you- or send videos of himself masturbating to the thought of you! Mwah enjoy the teasing babe

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It really depends on whether or not he tops, honestly. In terms of topping? Rook could never sleep after sex, it makes him energized! For this reason, Rook actually prefers not to have sex after dark, morning or midday sex works out better for him. After a good round or two, sometimes Rook will go straight into a workout.

Bottom Rook, though? He still feels refreshed but he's more likely to just settle down for a little while and chill out. He likes to lay back with you and blab on about whatever comes to mind- Rook low-key the king of pillow talk, he could give a 5 page essay debrief on your sex life.

That's all for today's showing guys, thank you for watching!

Hooooo boy! This one takes the cake for the longest alphabet yet at 3.8k (for reference, Trey's was 2.1k) this alphabet gave me some trouble, I didn't expect Rook to give me this much of a challenge! I think I got in my own head and tried to make this one really professional for a lil, then I went back a read some of my last alphabets and eased up. But there was a lot of writing, re-writing and re-formatting- sorry @birtha I did not mean to take this long, but it's finally done and I hope you like it! Also for that anon who sent in the Barbatos req, I see you, I hear you, I love you, it's in the works. Mwah thanks for reading you guys are baller

[wherever-i-look-blog]

Challengers (2024) Movie Review https://tinyurl.com/236prd3r

[raurquiz]

#happybirthday @rihannaofficial #rihanna #singer #actress #sledgehammer #startrekbeyond #anti #unapologetic #loud #goodgirlgonebad #ratedr #musicofthesun #agirllikeme #talkthattalk #valerianandthecityofthoudsandplanets #battleship #home #thisistheend #LovecraftCountry #blackpanther #wakandaforever #startrek56 @startrekonpplus @startrek @hbomaxla @marvelstudios @disneyplusla https://www.instagram.com/p/Co45vHeOf07/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[moonlight-rider25]

Winchester Girl Chapter 4

Warnings: RatedR, swearing, smoking, angst, fluff, smut, violence  

New York, present day.

You realize most of your weapons were left in the bar on the counter with your purse, however not being your first rodeo; far from your first, you think about the things you have on you and what steps you should take next.  You try and plot out the way from the bar to the nest they must be bringing you to. Their clearly young vamps, their campsite not far from the hub of the nightlife in the town, a rookie move if nothing else. 

They pull into the deserted shopping plaza and drive around back to a dark tree covered alley along the fence line. They stop and drag you out of the car, you manage to make a dramatic performance of spitting the dingy rag from your mouth out in the process, and the blonde vamp picks it up and stuffs it back in unapologetically. You feel the little bits of gravel on the rag and try your best to ignore it as any normal person being kidnapped would do.  They walk you into the guarded doors and you're greeted by a few more vamps from their nest. 

One thin kid, and two older looking adults. Clearly the leaders of the pack; you do your best to act accordingly. 

“Well, well, well..what do we have here…?” The older man approaches you, walking circles around, and taking in the full view of you. You cry slightly, trying to impress him with your fear. He grabs a handful of your hair and whips your head back craning his head down to your neck. He takes a long dramatic inhale smelling you and chuckles eyeing the others.

“I love the way they smell when they're scared…” he says with his laughter. 

Any moment now, they should be tying you up and leaving you for the night, perhaps even venture back out to try and kidnap some more recruits.

Unfortunately, your thought is wrong; as they gather the most recent, and clearly starving recruits to begin feasting on you. You whine and cry against the gravel covered rag in your mouth., in actual panic this time.  The hungry, and clearly novice recruits circle you. You try to count them, two..three…four!

You quickly try to think through the plan in your head again as you watch them circle you; ravaged with hunger.

You know there's a vial of dead man's blood in your waistband; but while being tied up, you have no way of getting to it. A small silver dagger strapped to the inside band of your bra…again renders useless without the use of your hands. One of the rookies jumps eagerly on you and you collapse under the weight of her.  She sits, ravenously shaking on top of you and you pant through the rag as you try to pry your hand from the ties. The other three begin surrounding you and your eyes dart watching and counting carefully how many foes you’ll have to defend yourself from. 

The ravenous girl on top opens her mouth, exposing her newly erupted fangs ready to take a bite into you. The other starving newbies begin to pull at your shoulders from opposite sides. Regardless of the pain, it does help loosen the rope around your wrists. You feel your ties finally break away, and instantly punch the unknowing vamp to your left, square in the jaw. You knock the quaking vamp off from you and grasp the silver dagger from your bra. The quaking vamp rolls across the dirty floor a few times, before looking up and seeing you’ve stabbed another one of her friends.  

She snarls on the floor, watching as you slice through the rope at your legs you jump up and aim it at the three remaining baby vamps cornering you. The elder vamps of the nest notice the racket and emerge from the shadows; forming a tighter wall around you.

(Fuck!)

The door bursts open; Dean armed and ready to clear the nest in a few moments. You breath in a deep breath and lunge at one of the new baby vamps; his fangs aimed for your throat. You stab him in the chest and he falls to the ground instantly. Another newly transitioned vamp nearby leaps from the darkness towards you. You duck and roll to the opposite corner and stand quickly to find yourself face to face with the elder member of the nest.

Dean yells out your name from the other side of the room. He makes his way over to you slicing and slaughtering through vamps in the process. The leader backs you against the wall, knocking the little silver dagger out of your hands in the process. His fangs outstretched ready to turn you, not just drink you…

You hear the plunge as Dean stabs him through the back; straight into his fast beating heart and watches as a small stream of blood begins to pool out the side of his mouth. He falls against the floor at your feet and you stand facing Dean; panting and shivering a bit.  The vial of dead man's blood falls from your hand to the ground between the two of you and it's only then you notice the massive pile of dead bodies laid around you.

“..Thanks…” You utter through breaths.

Dean, breathless as well, crouches down wiping the blood from his knife on a nearby t-shirt from a fallen vamp. 

“Don’t mention it..”

~~~~

“That was a really stupid move Y/N!” Dean yells trailing in long strides out towards ‘baby’.

“Oh, come on! Neither one of us knew they'd attack in the bathroom!” You cry from behind him. “I was fine!..”

“You know the drill!” Dean shouts angrily. “Stay put and keep your head down till we get there…till I get there!  …I knew this was a bad idea!”

“Dean, stop it. I was fine, and you know I’m not completely useless!” You try to plead to him.

“Something could have happened!” He yells.

“But it didn't!” you scream back.

“Well it would have, if I hadn't shown up!”

“Oh, just shut up!” 

You angrily rip the door open the passenger side door of the impala, which is stopped by Dean’s huge angry hand. He slams it closed; pinning you between him and the car as his eyes burn down against yours. You pant as you stare back up with anger as your eyes begin to blur a bit with tears well up.

“You don’t know a damn thing about what I’m capable of!” You shout at him.

“Oh yeah!? That's what you think, Y/N?” He screams back.

“Yeah! I could have taken each and every one of those assholes out!” 

“Oh, really!?”

“I could have wiped out that whole nest, without you or Sam riding along and getting in the way!”

“You think so?” He yells through a sarcastic chuckle.

“I know so!”

“The hell you could! You’re such an idiot Y/N, Who the hell are you trying to kid here! I know you better than you know you; and we both know you never could have done that!”

“Oh you think so?!” You spat against him, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Yeah! I sure do!”

“If you know me so well, then why the hell aren't you kissing me yet!?...” 

Dean’s arm swoops down around you lifting you up against the car before colliding his huge soft lips with yours. You drink in his flavor and gasp against him.  Your arms wrapped up around his neck as your fingers dance through his hair against his scalp. His tongue invades your mouth and you moan against him a bit. He pulls back; your hands dancing in his hair. 

“No!” You gasp, pulling him by the neck back against your lips.

Dean sucks at your bottom lip as his hands grip your waist. He slides his hands up your little black satin dress, exploring the curves along your sides.  You pant against him, eagerly sucking his tongue into your mouth and devouring his taste. 

“Dean..” You say biting back your mouth as you press your forehead against his in a breathless voice.

He cranes his head up, wiping the faint tear marks on your cheek, and stares at you with a dangerous smirk.

“Bratt..”

“Asshole…” You reply, smirking back at him.

“Get your ass in the damn car!” Dean hollars through a smirk, as he walks around the back of ‘baby’.

“Quit telling me what to do already!” You say trying your best to hold back a giggle.

‘Road to nowhere’ by Ozzy starts playing in ‘baby’ as you peer out into the darkness through your window.  You pull your legs up and lean against the door and perch your chin on your hand as you feel the wave of tiredness blanket itself over you.  Dean taps his thumb against the steering wheel as he stares out onto the headlights against the pavement. 

“I still find it all a mystery

Could it be a dream?..”

As your eyes flutter open and closed you decide not to try and shake the memories of Sam's huge arms clutching around you while you drift off to sleep..

“The road to nowhere...

Leads to me..”

Kansas; the Bunker 7 years ago

You turn the corner down the bankers hall towards Sam's room with a load of freshly folded laundry in your arms, halting at his doorway, when you spy the huge man standing over something near the side of the bed. 

“What’re you up to..?” You ask, placing the basket of laundry on the end of the bed.

Sam turns around and clears his throat after stumbling over the jumbled words in his mouth.  He smiles and moves aside a bit, showing off the cute little bedside table. The tan little stand fully equipped with a lamp, a picture of the two of you framed, and your current folk lore book. 

“I uhh, I got you your own so you don’t have to keep your phone and books on the floor anymore…” He says with a faint embarrassed smile. “I know it's not much, but..”

“I love it!”  you say with a giggle; walking over and inspecting the easy open drawer.  

You peer up at him and smile, he stands uncomfortably smiling back at you. He reaches up and rubs at the back of his neck.

“Yeah?.. I don’t want you to feel like you have too..you know keep it..or…” 

You giggle watching him clearly uncomfortable and embarrassed that you caught him in the middle of setting up the kind gesture. 

“Relax Sam..” You tell him with a scoff; while reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck.

He seats himself down on the side of the bed cradling you in his arms as you press your lips against his.

“It's perfect. Thank you..” You tell him running your fingers up his huge broad neck to his scalp and through his thick long hair.

“Yeah…” he says with a smile as he pulls you down on top of him.

Ozzy's voice booms from Dean's bedroom as you straddle Sam's lap, trailing kisses down his huge broad neck. He hums beneath you and you quickly begin stripping him of his many layers. Your hands trace down his huge chest and you lean in against him;  invading his mouth with your tongue, his massive hands stroke your sides as he pulls your shirt from over your head.  He breaks his mouth from yours and sucks at your neck as you grind against him moaning. 

He flips you over onto your back against the bed, fumbling with the buttons of your pants as you moan eyeing him. He strips off your pants, then thong; onto the floor and you arch your back with your legs up, bracing for his touch. He grabs you by your waist and slides you down the bed towards the edge towards him. The basket of clean folded laundry tumbling to the floor in the process. His mouth instantly at your center, his huge hot tongue curling around your sensitive bud as you groan against the sheets. He grips your asscheeks with his giant hands and holds you still against him. His tongue dances and weaves around all the sensitive nerves at your core.

“Fuck Sam!” you cry out.

He groans against you as you feel his huge fingers release your ass and reach in between your soaked, aching folds. You gasp as the pleasure washes over you. He curls his fingers up inside you and you wrap your legs around his neck as your body tenses and the waves begin to build up inside you. 

“Sam!” You pant as you buck up towards him.

“Yeah, that's it, isn't it” he says, pulling his head away and watching you squirm as your high washes over you.

“No, come here!” You pant as he edges you on.

He holds you down against the bed; circling his huge thumb around your sensitive bud and curls his fingers in and out as you come undone on the bed before him. 

“Sam!” You squeal.

He groans watching you as you cry out; finally succumbing to the incredible orgasm he prys from you.

“Right there, come on Y/N, cum for me…” he says as his hands gyrate between your legs.

Sam sucks at your core again, lapping you up as you come undone beneath him.

He stands and tosses his shirt to the ground as you pant on the bed under him,

“Come here..” You giggle as he leans down meeting your mouth with his. 

He devours your taste and you moan against him still riding out your high.  He pulls back with a giant grin across his face and you hear the Ozzy lyrics echo louder down the hallway.

“Oh shit…” Sam gasps, grasping at the blankets and wrapping them over your exposed half. You lay breathless beside Sam on the bed and roll on your side.  

‘..You got to, you got to, you got to lead to me..’

The giant footsteps striding down the hallway stopping at Sam's doorway as you bury your head in the blankets next to Sam's giant chest. 

“Dude…shut the frickin door!” Dean says slamming the door shut.

“Sorry!” Sammy replies, wiping the glistening juices from his mouth. 

You cackle under the blankets as Sam rolls over and pulls you on top of him…

New York, present day.

The car rumbles low and you awake startled as it rolls into the rundown looking motel with a half broken flashing sigh. Dean hops out and strides off towards the office as you try to shake the steamy memory of Sam's magic hands and what they were capable of making you do. You stretch your arms out as a yawn escapes you.  Peering at your phone the screen flashes 2:03 AM.

(Must have tried to drive all through the night..) You assume with another yawn. 

Dean returns and hands you the key to the motel room, he grabs your bags from the back and follows behind you towards the dank looking motel door. You jiggle the key and the door creaks open, you reach around and flip on the light switch teetering in towards the bed in the middle of the room. You hear Dean drop your bags and dart for the bathroom. It's only then you open your still sleep ridden eyes and see there's only one bed in the room.  

Dean reappears a few moments later and grabs a beer from the pile of bags. You rub your eyes a bit and see his arm outstretched towards you; a capless cold beer hovering before your face. You sit up on your elbows and take long meaningful sips.

“One bed?” You say after a few sips.

“It's 2 in the morning Y/N, you're lucky I even got this.” he replies before slugging the rest of the beer down.  

You roll your eyes and set your half drank beer on the floor before regrettably getting up and sleepily heading towards the bathroom to shower.

There's nothing you want to do more right now than slip into a hot steamy shower and rinse the remnants of vamp blood from your body. You lean against the sink and peer into the mirror, shaking your head, you laugh a bit to yourself. You reach up and allow your hair to cascade down over your shoulders, rubbing a bit at your scalp where it was held before.

You start the shower and slip out of your shoes and dress, allowing it to fall to the floor around your feet. Pull back the shower curtain and slip behind it. The hot water instantly settles your body's pains and aches. You allow the water to wash over you and soak your hair.  Peering down you realize you forgot your bag out in the other room. Of all nights, tonight you are not going to skip actually washing your body for creature blood; 2am or not. You sigh heavily and pull back the curtain just enough for your face to peek out into the steamy bathroom.

“...Dean?” You shout over the running water.

You wait a moment then finally hear his reply.

“Can you grab my shower stuff out of my bag?... Please?..” You ask, waiting for a delayed response again. 

Finally the door knob turns and through the thick steam drifting around the bathroom, you spy his gleaming green eyes peering back at you. He smirks and licks his lips before stepping in a few feet reaching out and handing you your bottles of soap. You grip the shower curtain in your hand and carefully reach out trying not to expose anything more than needed to him.

“Thanks..” you tell him kindly.

“You, know…this is more soap than Sammy and I use in a year..” he says, passing your shower bag over to you through the doorway.

“Oh, come on, this ain't even half of what I got at home..” you reply with a snicker.

He shakes his head as he passes bottle, after bottle over to you. 

“Yeah… I remember…” he says, backing away towards the door.

Hearing the click of the door latching shut, you quickly lather yourself up and try to breathe deeply through the steam, unable to stop the memories spiraling around in your mind…

Me too…

Kansas Bunker, 4 years ago

You were just finishing cleaning up breakfast, almost an entire package of Bacon and 4 eggs over easy with 3 pieces of toast smothered in butter for Dean; heart attack special you called it as you placed it in front of him. Along with 2 ham and veggie omelets for yourself and Sam. While Dean denied ever needing cream in his motor oil thick coffee, Sam was pleasantly surprised at the difference a splash of cream could make and soon, he took you up each time you offered it to him. Grocery shopping, cooking, and cleaning was the least you could do while they allowed you and Finn to stay. 

Your ex; Finns dad, had ran off on a drug bender for the last time and you decided to abandon the disgusting run down trailer he had inherited from his deadbeat father. You hit the road the first chance you got and never looked back…ending up in Kansas knocking on the bunker door within a few days; unsure of where else to go. Before you could even open your mouth to get a ‘hello’ out, they had carried yours and Finns bags down to your own room. It was dim and the only ‘homey’ touch was a bedside table with an old dusty lamp between the two twin beds. It smelt damp and musty and you sighed a bit, sitting down on the end of one of the beds.

“Thanks guys…” You say as Finn, less than 2 at the time; toddles his hardest up against the side of the bed where you were sitting. 

You picked up the crying toddler, who was eyeing Dean and Sam. You tried your hardest to hush him and soon Sam squatted down and began talking in a lighter tone to him. Finn, still unsure and only knowing of men that yelled and cursed in a drunken fit of rage, hid his face into your chest as you patted his back. 

“You’re okay, Finn, you're safe..” You said pecking a little kiss on the top of his golden head.

“Muum..” He cooed a bit against you.

You patted his back and realized he had not eaten anything besides a bag of goldfish a few hours prior.

“So uhh.. Are you guys hungry?”

The kitchen hadn’t changed in the slightest; besides being messier than you left it. You started frying up a whole package of bacon, cooking eggs, making omelets, and toasting toast.  Just like that, it was almost as if you had never left. Besides the addition of Finn, you all fell back quickly into the routines of life before…

Sam never called the two of you anything a proper name (per usual), and he didn’t have to. Within the first week of your arrival, you found the unfamiliar walls too much and asked him to sleep in bed with you. He did, even if he barely fit on the little twin mattress with you… And you slept better than you had in years wrapped in those huge muscular arms clutching you so perfectly. In the morning, you woke in a daze unaware as to where he had gone. Finn was curled up next to you in his playpen; which the boys had gone out and gotten for you after they realized the bunker was far from baby friendly. 

They came home with arms full of huge boxes and a car load of everything imaginable, some far too small for Finn, some too big; a highchair, changing table, toys, walkers, playpen, baby gates, a stroller, car seats, baby monitors, bibs, kid silverware and place settings, a tiny ride on car (Chevy of course) diapers, bath soap, you name it. It was honestly shocking, as much as it was a surprise, and even more of a shock when Sam later confessed most of it was from Dean's well rounded knowledge of parenting; not Sam’s. 

Sam remained a gentleman through the years, and allowed you to take it slow as you had just gotten out of a pretty rough relationship and were trying to navigate the single mom life. He never made a move or pressured you through the nights you asked him to lay next to you in the cold bunkers room. However, after about a month of barely being able to keep himself up on the tiny twin size mattress next to you, you moved Finn's playpen into his room next to your side of the bed. 

You sat down on the side of it and propped the receiver end of the baby monitor on the side table next to the bed… It took you a moment but you realized; it was the same side table he had brought home for you all that time ago. You ran your fingers across the top of it and smiled to yourself. Finn babbled in his playpen beside you, and you listened intently as the long striding footsteps approached the doorway from the hallway.  You pulled the singing toy hanging on the side of the playpen for Finn and smiled up at Sam. He shoved his huge hands down into his pockets and smiled back, watching you two in his room.

“This is…so… such a strange thing to see..” he says softly with a chuckle.

You sit back on the side of the bed and pat the side next to you.  Sam hesitated for a moment before sitting down next to you and reached down into the playpen to pull the toy for Finn again. 

“You kept the table..” You say quietly pointing to the side table you remember him being so embarrassed about.

“Yeah… I uhh.. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away…” He says anxiously.

You reach over and pull the little silver knob open, spying a bunch of condoms from different boxes.  

“Uhhh…” 

You turn and see his face of fear as he reaches over and closes it carefully. You laugh to yourself as you watch the redness build up in his face.

“Sam, it's fine!” you cackle watching him grow redder by the second. 

He laughs uncomfortably with you and you grab his hand in yours. You hold it in your own for a moment looking at it; the calluses that have only grown more pronounced, the huge weathered knuckles that must have punched countless monsters in the face…and humans. The lines running in different directions on his palm…You remember laying in bed with his arm over you comparing the lines on your palm to his. You both had a ‘v’ in the middle that met at another line and then abruptly stopped… It was still there; yours and his.

You peer up into his glimmering eyes as he watches you examine his hand in confusion. You smile at him with a giggle in your mouth..

“Your hands haven't changed…”

He eyes you suspiciously and you both allow a laugh to fill the air for a moment. Finn coos and Sam reaches down pulling the singing toy for him again. He sits back up meeting your look again and you allow a long silent moment to pass as you stare at his sweet familiar face.  His little drawn up lips sitting right above his chiseled chin, the stubble forming around the curves of his upper lip and on the sides of his cheeks. His hair framing his toned jaw and his eyes peer back down at you the same way they once did…

“You haven't changed a bit..” You say through a smile.

“Is that a good thing..?” he asks sarcastically.

You reach up and place your hand softly against his cheek and pat at his soft skin..

“It's whatever you think it should be..” You say before pulling him down towards you and your lips finally meeting at last.  You breathe in his scent as he kisses you back tenderly but cautiously. You reach up your other arm and pull him closer to you, then he finally wraps his huge arm around your waist and pulls you up towards him. You moan against him and allow your hands to linger at his neck when you finally break the kiss. He presses his huge forehead against yours and you lean back towards him.

“...Y/N… I gotta tell… you something..before I…”

Finn fusses in his playpen and you sigh, releasing your hands from around his huge neck. You lean over and pluck Finn from his spot resting him on your hip bouncing him a bit as you try to hush him. 

“I gotta go change him..” You say heading towards the doorway. 

Sam sits and nods with his signature fake smile on his face as you head towards the hallway. You stop and turn back towards Sam who's pouting at the edge of the bed. 

“Well, I guess Ozzy was right…” You say waiting for him to meet your eye. “The road to nowhere lead to you…” You tell him bravely before disappearing back out towards the hallway.

Was it love? It had to be love. Whole heartedly and entirely since the moment he saved you. But you couldn't deny the fact that your heart was never truly just his and his alone… No matter the distance, the amount or time, and now even a kid… You loved him…but not just him…

New York, present day.

You walk out from the bathroom, your hair in a towel and sit on the edge of the bed; Dean grabs his bag heading towards the still steaming bathroom and closes the door behind him. You sprawl out on the blankets and pull your phone out; 2:37am.  You climb under the covers and hold your phone screen close to your face scrolling through the nonsense of your facebook timeline; reading about people's joyful adventures and weekends they're having. Most of the people you had known before meeting the Winchester brothers probably assumed you fell off the face of the planet… How were you supposed to make a post about slaying a vamp nest on a Friday night?

You locked your phone and set it on the nearby side table just as you hear the 'click' to the bathroom door. Turning in your spot, you spy Dean approaching from the steamy bathroom. In a white tee shirt and a faded pair of pj pants. His hair; still sexy as all hell, sticking up on end from being wet. He drops his bag and rummages around the bottom of it for a charger. You roll back over facing away from him and try to suppress the dangerous memories that make your core throb. 

You hear him curse at the side table as he struggles to plug the phone charger in, then he makes his way around the room hitting all the light switches off. He locks the door and draws the blinds, securing every other entry into the motel room before making his way back over to the other side of the bed. He pulls back the blankets beside you and you turn over on your side towards him, eyeing him with a concerned look.

“I think we’re past being concerned about cooties, don’t ya think?..” He says climbing under the blankets next to you. 

You chuckle to yourself and throw a pillow between the two of you.  Dean scoffs and reaches up towards the light switch next to him and turns it off. 

“I won't try anything if you don’t.. He says with a smirk.

“Oh please, Dean Winchester on his best behavior…that's a first…” You say with sarcasm thick in your throat.

You lean back against your pillow and pull the covers up over your shoulder. 

“Oh come on, you've slept in the passenger's seat next to me, a hundred times..” he says with some sincerity in his tone.. “Never tried anything then, did I?” 

Dean lets out a long sigh as you raise an eyebrow, even though he can't see you. Thinking back on the realization of most of those times was likely because Sam was in the back seat.. But also recall, on the rare occasion he wasn’t.  Hell, at times, you had hoped he would reach an arm over between your thighs and keep it there…just long enough…

You shake off the thoughts and nestle your head down into the pillow and try to drift off to sleep besides the wicked man inches…fucking inches from you. In the same bed as you nonetheless! You squirm a bit and try to empty your mind before drifting off to sleep…

“You don't want me to try anything…do you?” He asks in a rugged whisper.

“Goodnight Dean!” you call sternly from your place.

…try anything no… perhaps just do what you will with me…well thats another story…

Kansas Bunker 4 years earlier 

“Pour some sugar on me…

I'm hot, sticky sweet

From my head to my feet, yeah…

…Do you take sugar? One lump or two?"

The lyrics belt out on Dean's stereo as you walk past the closed door towards the bathroom; towels in hand. You bobbed your head to the beat unbeknownst to what was lurking on the other side.  

In the shower ‘hall’ you liked to call it; you turned the water red hot and began to undress.  You comb through your hair with a wide tooth comb and peer over at Finn's baby monitor on the counter. Hoping the water was warm by now, you slide in behind the foggy plastic curtain and allow the water to soak deep into your hair, along with the pains from living with the two Winchester boys for so long untouched…

You had been staying with the boys for almost six months now, and were grateful neither of them ever tried to pry deeper into the depths as to why you showed up on their doorstep.  Your main priority was Finn, and the boys respected and understood that without you having to ever put words to it.  Even with sharing a bed with Sam every night, he refrained from making any moves; most of the time you appreciated and admired the personal restraint he had, but you did have your suspicions as to why he never, not even once, tried to push his luck with you… 

 Deep into your conditioner cycle, leaning over in the narrow stall with a pink razor in hand at your leg lathered in shaving cream; you hear the bathroom door creak open.  

“Just a few more minutes..” you call out over the tall shower stall.

You peek out behind the shower curtain and wonder if Finn had awoken from his nap or anything of the sorts. The monitor on the sink tells you he's still asleep; logically, one of the guys must have just not known you were in the shower.  You continue on your long cream covered leg and rinse the remnants off.  

Dipping your face into the hot water a few more times making sure you got a complete full rise of everything off.  You hear the shower curtain jingle as it's being pulled back. You freeze momentarily, unsure of what you hear and bite back the smile growing across your face.

(Jesus Christ, took you long enough!)  You think as you remain still for a moment longer, taking your time allowing the hot water to fall over your face a few more times.

“Well, Sam...” You say with a giggle.

Wiping the water from your face, you turn around cautiously spying Dean approaching you slowly with his eyes set on you, filled with lust, want, and seemingly not about to back down.  You wipe your eyes again, making sure it is in fact who you think is walking towards you. His green eyes glimmering as you wrap your arms up around his huge shoulders in the foggy stall;  he reaches out towards you and effortlessly picks you up pinning you against the shower stall. You moan out against him as his lips meet yours. He's eager and ready, you feel his hard cock pressed up under your butt and groan as he slams his palm against the shower stall holding you with one arm. 

Your tongues collide and he invades your mouth ready and eager as you moan with him.  You can't help but buck towards him with your aching core as you groan against him. He pulls away, still pinning you against the cold shower wall, breathless as he stares at you.

“...I’m sorry Y/N, I shouldn’t have..”

“Don’t you dare!” You gasp, pulling his face back towards yours.

Dean devours your mouth with his, his fingertips digging into your waist as he holds you up against the shower wall. You wrap your legs around his waist and dig your hands through his soft wet hair. He sucks at your neck trailing down your chest. He grasps your breast with his huge calloused hand. And you grab a fist full of his hair, pulling his head back and meeting his eyes. You buck against him as he pins you against the shower wall, lining himself up with your aching core. You whine anticipating the sensation of him filling you.

Your eyes flutter as you feel his throbbing tip caress against your sensitive core, and he groans watching you take him in inch by inch. You can't help but cry out when you feel him pressed up against you; he reaches his hand up and covers your mouth, muffling your cries of pleasure a bit.  He sucks at your neck as he slowly pumps in and out of you, your legs locked around him as you shudder with each thrust. Your stomach coiling as you buck against him, he finally captures your mouth with his again and you suck eagerly as your orgasm builds in your center.

He grunts against you, biting your bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth as you try to hush the rhythmic moans spilling from your mouth. 

“Y/N!” 

“Dean!” you moan against him as you uncurl in his arms, filled with him as he pants, still holding your tingeing body in his arms. 

~~~~

The next day, Sam and Dean are packing for their hunt in Indiana; you stand in the hallway peering in towards both boys packing up their necessities for the hunt; guns, clean underwear and socks. Dean meets your eye and your breath catches in your throat. He strides towards you with a faint look of sorrow and lust in his eyes.  He extends his arms out and you carefully pass Finn over to him, trying your best to clear the gasp caught in your throat. Sam; only a step behind him, comes in and wraps his arms around you, pulling you against him with a long, meaningful hug.  You swallow back the lump in your throat and breathe in his familiar scent with your face pressed against his chest. He pecks a quick kiss on the top of your hair and releases you, taking Finn in his arms and talking in a cutesy voice to him. Dean stands back against the giant dining table, eyeing you with a pained look on his face and regardless of the thoughts or conversations that may lead; hold your head steady as you walk over towards him and embrace him in a hug. The room grows quiet from Sam's cutesy tone talking to Finn, and you allow yourself a  long, deep breath of Dean as well. 

He feels so much like his brother, but also so different at the same time. You breathe in the same scents of their shared laundry detergent and soap, but it’s not the same, not better or worse, but also not the same. You feel Dean's face nestled in your hair and you try your best to avoid his look when you finally release him from your embrace. You smile at Sam and he hands Finn back to you with a precarious smile on his face. 

No one says a word, as they gather their bags and make their way towards the door of the bunker. You stand bouncing Finn on your hip as you watch them walk out the door. 

“We love you guys..” You call faintly to them both.

Sam stops and smiles back towards you as he closes the door and you allow a huge long awaited breath to escape you.  At that moment, you made a decision. You figured at the time, it was what was best for everyone. 

“Well, Finley…I guess we should start packing as well…”

On the next chapter of Winchester Girl

Tags: @nancymcl @123passwort

"New York, present day.

You hear Dean's alarm buzzing on the side table next to him and roll over. He seems to be snoozing peacefully through it; you try to flatten the thin pillows over your head. Finally, it gives up and you settle back into your spot and doze back off to sleep. Only to be awoken 9 mins later by the buzzing again.

"God damnit!" You curse under your breath."

LMK, if youd also like to be tagged in these!

[mpc-official]

Will we see alternative ending for like, if the oc didn't show up, or?

maybe or maybe not idk, the idea or at least the first one i came up with is kinda ratedR

i was thinking i guess peter would just violate andy for the whole restaurant to see idk lol

or claus shows up and does something idk

funny a person just recently messaged me about this lol

im not exactly too sure what would happen rn =w=;;; 

[iconsratedr]

Could you make some of her Rated R Era Icons

dê uma olhadinha em tagged/RatedR

[profbruce]

White Angel of Merida Mexico

This silent angel in downtown Merida (aka Centro) offers you one slip of paper to guide your future. For 20 pesos, mine read (in Spanish), “Sometimes you win, sometimes you learn.” #Excellent message.

White Angel of Merida

This young woman dresses up every Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday in her angel costume, which she designed and fabbed herself. She stations herself outside Merida’s cathedral in their central square.

In front of Merida’s central cathedral 

For a modest donation (such as my measly 20 pesos, about $1 USD) in her jar, which you can see at her feet, you draw one tiny piece of paper from her cup. She only “speaks” in gestures, ie, she’s a mime… She graces you with a smile as well.

I estimated she makes up to 1,200 pesos an hour (around $60 USD). It’s a good gig and she’s a fine artist/actress/mime in her own right. It’s another PB4L, personal business for life, or side hustle. Beats begging, right? Or waiting on tables if you are a young actress waiting for your next gig.

Makes people feel good too and, of course, it doesn’t hurt that she’s a beauty.

Prof Bruce

ps here’s Chris Rock’s latest (foul-mouthed) take on the power of female beauty (on Netflix), https://www.netflix.com/tudum/articles/chris-rock-live-standup-special. The title of his hour-long rant? “Selective Outrage.” A decent review is on Variety, https://variety.com/2023/tv/news/chris-rock-slap-will-smith-netflix-comedy-special-1235542611/. #NSFO #RatedR

pps I have a theory that pretty much everyone needs some sort of PB4L to get them through the tough patches that almost all of us will face during our time on this planet. You can read more at:

Should Every Person on the Planet Have a PB4L (Personal Business for Life)? https://www.dropbox.com/s/bpqc508879tsdwk/PB4L-personal-business-for-life-bruce-m-firestone.pdf?dl=0.

FOR REAL ESTATE INVESTMENT AND BUSINESS COACHING THAT’LL HELP YOU PROVIDE FOR YOURSELF AND YOUR FAMILY FOR 3-GENERATIONS, PLEASE CONTACT:

Bruce M Firestone, B Eng (civil), M Eng-Sci, PhD Real Estate Investment and Business coach Ottawa Senators founder ROYAL LePAGE Performance Realty broker 613-762-8884 bruce@brucemfirestone.com brucemfirestone.com https://burningrocksolutions.com/ https://www.linkedin.com/in/profbruce https://www.linkedin.com/company/firestoneinstitute https://brucemfirestone.com/blog/ https://www.youtube.com/user/ProfBruce/ https://www.amazon.com/author/brucefirestone https://twitter.com/ProfBruce https://www.facebook.com/groups/reiroi https://www.facebook.com/ProfBruce https://www.instagram.com/brucemfirestone/ https://profbruce.tumblr.com/archive

BOOK YOUR FREE CLARITY CALL WITH PROF BRUCE NOW, https://brucemfirestone.com/coaching/prof-bruce-real-estate-investment-and-business-coaching/talk/

• MAKING IMPOSSIBLE POSSIBLE • FREEDOM VIA REAL ESTATE INVESTMENT AND PB4L, PERSONAL BUSINESS FOR LIFE • FEHAJ, FOR EVERY HOME A JOB, FEJAH, FOR EVERY JOB A HOME • MAKE YOUR HOME WORK FOR YOU, INSTEAD OF YOU WORKING FOR IT • HIGHER ROI NOT JUST FOR OWNERS AND INVESTORS, BUT FOR TENANTS, GUESTS, VISITORS, NEIGHBORHOODS, COMMUNITIES, TOWNS, VILLAGES, CITIES AND THE ENVIRONMENT TOO

+++

[agcooper88]

Happy birthday @badgalriri!!! 🖤👑🖤 . . . . . #vinyloftheday #recordoftheday #vinylcollection #vinylcollector #vinylporn #vinylcommunity #recordcollection #myrecordcollection #vinyladdiction #vinylart #Rihanna #badgalriri #RihannaVinyl #RihannaCollection #iloveDiscogs #HappyBirthdayRihanna #instavinyl #vinylgram #recordcollector #vinyladdict #instarecord #MusicOfTheSun #GoodGirlGoneBad #AGirlLikeMe #RatedR #TalkThatTalk #33rpm #RihannaDiscography #vinylheaven #vinylisbetter (at Castro District, San Francisco) https://www.instagram.com/p/Co5qpvkPfsp/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=