#HOLY SHIT THIS IS THE HOTTEST PERSON HES EVER DELIVERED TO | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

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unfair ii, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader x yoongi

summary: You know how you end up fucking your next door neighbor and her boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook? No? Oh. Well, I guess that’s just Min Yoongi’s predicament then.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship; smut (fem reader, threesome, shower sex, cum eating, f and m-receiving oral, cowgirl, nipple vibrators are involved); soft fluff; starts off with Yoongi’s POV, then switches to you, Jungkook is pretty much mad horny 24/7; Yoongi just wants to be cuddled mentally and physically; ft. a poor soul who was only trying to deliver pizza...

Through a series of events, Min Yoongi now had two problems. He was quite sure these were not problems anyone else had. Actually, he was positive that no one else could relate to his two very distinct problems, one of which was in front of him right this very moment.

“Yoongi-ssi.”

The slight amount of disrespect should have annoyed him, but these were different circumstances.

“You need to be patient like everyone else.”

Slam.

Now Yoongi’s slim wrists were pinned against the wall with strong hands, one tattooed, one not. His problems weren’t bad per se. Inconvenient, perhaps. They made his life difficult. Hard, even. A very solid weight pressed against his crotch. He shifted his eyes away, lips twisted in a small pout.

“… What do you mean, like everyone else?”

A low chuckle. Yoongi felt lips on his neck. His muscles tensed and he drew in a sharp breath as those lips began to graze over his skin. Familiar lips now, lips that he thought way too much about and much too inappropriate times. Lips that set his skin on fire and made him grit his teeth to avoid sounding too pathetic.

“Aw, are you jealous? Afraid we’ll be interested in someone else?”

Him, Min Yoongi, jealous? No, of course not. He had never been jealous in his entire life. Jealousy was linked to sin and Yoongi wasn’t that kind of person. He was a kind boy. A good soul. He had also never felt lust either. Never.

Those firm hips rolled against his and Yoongi almost gasped, biting on his tongue.

“Don’t worry, it will always be only you for us, love.”

Yoongi stared up at the ceiling. The higher power up there put him in this position. He did not ask for this. He did not ask for his heart to skip two beats at those words. He did not ask for Jeon Jungkook to be this sexy, this sweet, and this rough all at once. Was this how he was going to go? Was he going to die by sensory overload from Jeon Jungkook’s hotness? Probably.

Not the worst way to go.

“… You’re breaking the rules.”

Jungkook lifted his head, smirk on his lips and eyes half-lidded. “You broke them first,” he shot back, tongue between his teeth, quirking his eyebrows.

Holy fuck.

A minute before, Jungkook had been in the bedroom, chatting with Yoongi about… something. Yoongi couldn’t remember, because he was distracted. Jungkook had come home from walking Holly and was in the middle of telling him some story. Holly was passed out in the living room, living his best life. Yoongi, however, had been staring at Jungkook pulling off his white t-shirt, lifting it over his head and shoulders. Tattoos against the tan skin of his right arm, back muscles flexing as he stripped. Maybe, just maybe, Yoongi had lifted his hand and touched Jungkook’s back, just for a second. Traced a muscle, mouth slightly open, awed at how a human body could be so different from his.

“You’re not supposed to imitate sex until we’re all together,” Jungkook purred.

Yoongi’s eyes flitted away from Jungkook’s amused expression. “It wasn’t sexual.”

“Hmm.”

Yoongi shifted his eyes back to those brown eyes framed by long dark hair. His problem was making him very, very hard right now. Ah, he meant, the moment was difficult–

Jungkook’s pink tongue slid out and licked Yoongi’s lips, the lightest, hottest touch.

Fuuuuuck.

The front door opened. Sounds of shoes being removed, a soft sigh. Holly barked and there was a jangle of dog tags paired with a cheerful laugh and cooing noises. He could hear Holly’s fur being ruffled by pets.

“How was your day, Holly? Hopefully not as tiring as mine.”

Holly made a soft woof. Footsteps. And then she rounded the corner.

Problem number two.

Dressed in a tailored black skirt suit, white shirt, and a red tie. Molded perfectly to her hips and her sharply legs. Arm raised, slowly pulling her hairpin out of her hair, which tumbled down onto her shoulders, cascading around her cheeks. The prettiest eyes Yoongi had ever seen, the kind of eyes that kept him rooted in place – well, besides the larger man literally pressing him against the wall. She cocked an eyebrow at them.

“Jungkook,” she said slowly, leaning against the doorframe. That fucking line of her fucking body, every fucking curve held in that skirt suit. Was that even legal to wear in public? For Yoongi, it would definitely cause some complications. “I simply can’t guess what you want to do tonight.”

Jungkook grinned. “I didn’t start it.”

She chuckled. “Of course, you didn’t, darling.” Her eyes shifted to Yoongi. “How are you tonight, Yoongi, my love?”

These two were giving him constant heart arrhythmia. He was pretty sure his ears and his cheeks were both red.

“F-fine.”

The second you laid down those ground rules, you knew Jungkook was going to break them. That’s why you made them, of course. He always had that mischievous streak about him. Your initial meeting had been at the gym he worked at. You had signed up for a personal training session, just to see if it was something to commit to. Jungkook made you commit to something, all right. Were you two tangled in the sheets after your first or second meeting? You couldn’t remember.

You asked him why he had been so forward at the time and his response had been, “Excuse me, do you see yourself in the mirror? Literally every single guy at the gym was staring at you.”

“I didn’t see such a thing, Jungkook.”

“That’s because your eyes were on me.”

Moving out of your parents’ home had been a nice change. No longer did you have to worry about your parents accidentally hearing certain things. And the cherry on top had been a certain someone, a certain someone who was very, very interesting. Jungkook had eagerly nudged you the first time you two saw him innocently walking his dog.

“Let’s fuck him.”

“Excuse me?”

That devious smile. “Come on. You know you want to.”

Your raised eyebrows. “I do? I think you do.”

His mouth on your neck, making you melt. “I know we have similar taste, darling. Look at that cute, precious face. Don’t you want to sit on it?”

Poor clueless Min Yoongi had no idea what was coming as he trotted along the sidewalk with an excited Holly. He had no idea what you two were planning, how difficult his life was going to become, or what situations you two were going to put him in. For instance, he was currently sandwiched between you and Jungkook as water rained down on the three of you. The double showerheads had been a smart investment. You calmly worked shampoo into your hair, rubbing your ass against Yoongi’s hard cock as Jungkook held his arms behind his back, also rubbing his cock against Yoongi’s ass.

“T-this is not a shower,” Yoongi hissed out, throwing his head back as the head of his cock rubbed right between your ass cheeks.

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook chuckled. “She’s shampooing her hair right now.”

The shampoo was dripping down your back, adding slick lubrication to an already dire situation for Yoongi. You reached back and pressed the head down in between your ass, creating a tighter crevice as Yoongi rolled his hips into you. Jungkook was humping Yoongi’s ass and making him lurch forward, increasing the speed by a few notches. You turned your head slightly with a smile, seeing Yoongi losing his control and Jungkook smirking at you.

“Fucking shit,” Yoongi moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. Jungkook let go of his arms and gripped Yoongi’s hips instead, pushing his cheeks together, inhaling sharply.

“You have a great ass, Yoongi-ssi,” Jungkook murmured, lips on his shoulder, kissing lightly as he roughly thrust his hips up his ass cheeks, the head of his cock grazing Yoongi’s lower back.

Yoongi gasped, eyelids fluttering. “Not as nice as hers,” he mumbled back, chest heaving.

You squeezed Yoongi’s cock a little tighter. “Why, thank you.”

You watched Yoongi’s hands clench into fists as he shut his eyes tightly, moaning loudly as he came, shooting warm, sticky cum up your back. You grinned and rubbed your ass against his crotch as the last residual bursts came, the sensitive head buried in between your ass cheeks as he shuddered, leaking into your tight crack.

You heard Jungkook hiss as he orgasmed, clamping Yoongi’s ass around his cock, jaw clenched tight, eyes closed. He seemed to feel your gaze and his eyes opened, paired with a cocky smile. Your name dropped from Jungkook’s lips, so low, so sexy.

“A gift for you.”

Jungkook spun Yoongi around at the waist and you dropped to your knees, tongue already out and slurping up Jungkook’s cum as he kissed Yoongi. Yoongi’s entire body was shivering, softly moaning to Jungkook’s mouth as your tongue slid low in between his ass. Jungkook really knew how to make you wetter than the fucking shower itself, sucking his cum out of Yoongi’s ass cheeks. You nipped at the skin and Yoongi whimpered into Jungkook’s mouth.

“You’re not being fair,” Yoongi hissed, trying to pull away.

Jungkook smiled.

“You don’t want fair, now do you?”

“What do you want on your pizza?”

Yoongi grunted. “Don’t care.”

You poked Yoongi in the chest.

“Are you mad?”

“No.”

Jungkook pressed you down further. “He’s embarrassed,” he purred.

You looked up at Yoongi, who was scrolling on his phone and trying not to look at you. Either of you, for that matter. Yoongi was laying on the bed, in a gray t-shirt and his boxer briefs, with you on his lap and chest. Red bra and panties, with a black silk robe. Jungkook leaned against your back, shirtless and in his black sweatpants. Jungkook was also on his phone, ordering pizza. For some mysterious reason, you three were too tired to cook, thus the pizza.

You reached up and brushed Yoongi’s bangs out of his eyes. His mouth thinned into a line and he put his phone down on his chest. His eyes closed as you pet his dark hair. You smiled. Yoongi could act grumpy all he wanted. You saw right through him.

Yoongi let out a soft huff as Jungkook bounced on you a little. “I’m fine.”

You cupped his round cheek gently. “You can tell us, Yoongi.”

He cracked an eye open. “Too... much attention on me,” Yoongi mumbled. He puffed his cheeks and closed his eye again at your foxy smile. Well, Jungkook and you were generous lovers, after all.

“Pizza ordered and paid for.”

Jungkook’s phone bounced on the bed as he dropped it. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lovingly kissing your shoulders. Unsurprisingly, you felt your robe being pulled down a little as he kissed down your back. You placed your arms on Yoongi’s chest, chin on top.

“I love you.”

When Yoongi didn’t respond, you poked him again. He frowned and opened his eyes barely a sliver. You gazed up at him expectantly. His ears were turning red. You had said it before. Jungkook had said it before. But getting it out of Yoongi was proving to be more difficult.

“Jungkook, your girlfriend is in love with me,” Yoongi muttered. He was still looking at you, not closing his eyes.

“Me too, so you better say it back to her,” Jungkook replied cheerfully, an edge of danger in his voice.

Yoongi puffed his cheeks lightly again. “I’m being threatened by your boyfriend,” he said to you.

You stared deep into those dark brown eyes. You lifted your head, moving closer to Yoongi’s face. Your silk robe was sliding down your arms, thanks to Jungkook’s insistence.

“I love you,” you said again, voice husky and seductive.

Yoongi sucked in his lower lip anxiously.

Your head dipped down, lips softly touching his. You softly breathed into his mouth. He whimpered, tongue touching the edge of your lips. You sucked on it lightly, the tip of yours entwining with his. You mouthed the words again against his lips and he mouthed them back. The robe was leaving you completely now. You broke apart from Yoongi, smiling as Jungkook’s hands traveled up your belly.

Yoongi swallowed, nervousness fluttering in his expression.

“You say it… so easily.”

You frowned slightly. “Is that bad?”

Yoongi’s eyes shifted to the head of hair behind you, hearing his soft kisses on your back. You reached over and brushed your fingers against Yoongi’s cheek. His eyes flickered back to you, wordless.

“Jungkook and I are very happy to be with you.”

You could see the confliction on his face. You felt Jungkook raise his head and place it on your shoulder, arms around your waist. Yoongi seemed sensitive, aware of the two of you watching him as he struggled internally.

“Aren’t you happy… with just Jungkook?”

Ah.

You turned your head to look at Jungkook. He nuzzled your nose, smiling.

“Are you happy, darling?” you whispered against his lips.

“With you, always.”

You turned back to Yoongi and smiled down at him. His brown eyes were unsure, looking down, somewhat ashamed. As if he walked in on something he shouldn’t have. As if he wasn’t meant to be here. You placed your hands on his cheeks and gently lifted his face, forcing him to look at you and Jungkook.

“Yoongi-ssi,” Jungkook said quietly. “You don’t have to worry. We want to love you.”

“Why?”

Yoongi’s voice cracked, just a little. He wrapped one of his hands around one of your wrists, blinking fast to push away his tears.

“I… I shouldn’t have… You two were happy without me…”

“Shh.”

You leaned down and placed kisses on his cheeks. His hand on your wrist trembled. Maybe he was scared. Scared he might ruin your relationship. Scared he might just be a toy in both of your hands, only used for fun. Scared he might lose you two when you get bored. Scared that it was all a fleeting happiness, a moment of lust that would disappear all too soon.

“Just want to make you happy, Yoongi,” you murmured against his skin. “Just want to be around you and hold you in my arms and wake up next to you every day.”

You felt Jungkook bend down and kiss Yoongi on the forehead. “Just want to see your face,” Jungkook continued softly. “Pour all of our love into you until you can’t take any more and then give you even more. You make us so, so happy.”

Jungkook and you pulled back a little, giving Yoongi some room to breathe. He sniffled sheepishly and wiped his eyes, frowning slightly. His eyes flickered from Jungkook and then to you.

“Hah… I didn’t need all that,” he mumbled clumsily.

“But you wanted to hear it anyway,” Jungkook replied playfully.

Yoongi turned his head away, blinking quickly. You tried not to smile at his shyness.

“Why would you even think… to add another?”

You rubbed the back of your head. “Well… actually, we both saw you at the same time and, ah, it wasn’t really planned.” You laughed a little. “We thought you were going to run away or just leave it at as a one-time thing.” You leaned down as Yoongi’s cheeks turned red. “Imagine our surprise when you knocked on the door once again.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You guys were literally fucking on our shared wall.”

“Maaaaaaybe…”

“If you were going to make a ruckus, at least let me enjoy too,” Yoongi grumbled.

You gently turned Yoongi’s face back towards you, dropping your head as Jungkook unhooked your bra.

“Now you can enjoy all the time.”

Your hands slid down his clothed chest. Yoongi gasped against your lips, suddenly feeling your bare breasts against the thin fabric. Jungkook was pulling your red panties down your legs, tossing them who-knows-where. You moaned as you felt Jungkook’s tongue on your wetness, licking a thick stripe up your slit. He stuck his tongue inside you, pushing it in once, twice. You squeezed the muscle with your pussy as you pulled Yoongi to you. Jungkook lifted you up, ass in the air, legs spread. He coated his tongue with your slick juices before flicking your clit.

“A-ah, Jungkook…” you whined, clutching onto Yoongi’s shirt and rubbing your tits against his chest. Yoongi inhaled sharply, gently nudging you.

“Let me take it off,” Yoongi chuckled. You frowned as you released him. Jungkook sucked on your clit as Yoongi pulled his gray t-shirt over his head, his hair fluffy as it was disturbed. You crawled up his chest and kissed him deeply, moaning as you felt his large hands on your breasts, kneading them roughly. You felt Jungkook slide one of his fingers inside you, teeth nipping at your ass.

“Mmm…”

You lifted your head. Yoongi smirked underneath you, pinching your nipples as Jungkook pushed another finger in your pussy. You bit your lip, moaning their names as Jungkook began to finger-fuck you, his free hand gripping your hip. You felt Yoongi press his thumbs against your nipples and rub them in circles, your body rocking upwards from the force of Jungkook’s fingers. You vaguely heard Yoongi call your name and you looked down at him, head fuzzy with pleasure.

“Y-yes?”

His pink lips so pretty, softly turned upward towards you.

“Kiss me.”

You leaned down and kissed him, whining as Jungkook pulled his fingers out of you to lick your pussy again, rubbing his slick fingertips on your clit. You moaned into Yoongi’s mouth and he caught your tongue, sucking on it. He pinched your nipples once again, hard, and it pushed you over the edge, gasping as you came in Jungkook’s mouth, his tongue lapping you up, smearing it all over your pussy.

You broke out of Yoongi’s kiss, trying to catch your breath. You felt movement under you and heard Yoongi’s surprised yelp as Jungkook yanked his underwear down his legs.

“Jungkook, what–”

You couldn’t even finish your question because Jungkook pushed your hips down with one hand, using his other to push Yoongi’s semi-hard dick up. Yoongi gasped as your wet, dripping pussy planted straight onto his balls and the base of his cock, immediately coating them with your orgasm and Jungkook’s saliva. The position left the head of Yoongi’s cock against his lower belly and your slippery pussy on his length and balls.

You felt Jungkook’s lips against your ear.

“Don’t move.”

You frowned slightly at Jungkook’s command, feeling Yoongi’s cock swell at the close contact to your pussy. Your preferred form of birth control was condoms, so you weren’t used to feeling raw cock against your pussy. It wasn’t inside you, so you didn’t panic, but you rubbed yourself against Yoongi’s balls just a little. Yoongi gritted his teeth, head pushed back against the pillows.

“What is that kid thinking?” Yoongi muttered, “He can’t leave us here like this.”

You could tell he was too scared to touch you, lest something slip. He caught you staring at him and he blushed, turning away quickly.

“W-what?”

Your tongue balanced between your teeth, smirking slightly. You clenched your walls, knowing he could feel the opening tighten against his balls. Yoongi hissed, digging his fingers into the sheets.

“You’re just as bad,” he pouted, giving you the side eye.

You heard movement behind you. Jungkook. Firm hands grasped your hips, lifting you up. You whimpered at the loss of warmth, looking down to see Yoongi’s cock covered with your juices. Jungkook let you go, and you were on one knee, other leg somewhat extended as Jungkook dipped his head downward between your legs. Yoongi moaned as Jungkook licked him all over, pink tongue flashing as you watched with bated breath. He took Yoongi’s balls in his mouth, sucking them clean. Yoongi’s eyes rolled back in his head, barely registering Jungkook putting a condom on his already-hard cock. A second later and Jungkook removed his mouth with a wet plop, grinning.

He slid up your body, kissing you deeply, your taste on his lips. You smiled, feeling him wrap his hands around your waist again, pulling you back down. Yoongi barely had time to orient his cock before you sank down on him, moaning into Jungkook’s mouth.

“Feeling good, love?” Jungkook growled against your lips, nipping at them.

You squeezed Yoongi’s cock. It throbbed inside you as Yoongi groaned. “So good, Jungkook,” you panted, voice glazed with lust.

Yoongi rolled his hips up into you as Jungkook nuzzled your neck, kissing it softly. You closed your eyes, pleasure filling you up. You began to bounce on Yoongi’s cock, intertwining your fingers with his as you thrust him into you, hitting your favorite spot. Nice and deep, over and over. Jungkook cupped your breasts and your eyes snapped open, feeling something foreign being stuck to your breasts.

It couldn’t be–

“Jung- fuck!”

His name was quickly replaced by you swearing as he turned the nipple vibrators on, grinning infuriatingly into your shoulder. They were in the shape of little red hearts, taped right onto your nipples. You winced, body shuddering as you grabbed Yoongi’s other hand, clutching on them tight as the vibrations radiated through you. Your pussy clenched involuntarily and you were already orgasming, eyes rolling back into your head as Jungkook’s hands guided your hips, using your pussy to fuck Yoongi. How were you supposed to think? Breathe? Do anything, but feel the relentless vibrations on your sensitive nipples as Yoongi moaned under you, helpless as Jungkook controlled everything, bouncing you expertly.

And then you felt it.

Jungkook’s cock sliding up your back, his balls resting on the top of your ass.

“J-Jungkook, it’s t-too much…” you gasped, “I-I can’t…”

“You can,” Jungkook whispered, humping your back, breath tight. “Just for us, you can, my love. I know you can.”

Jungkook was actually crazy. You thought just him alone was wild. Pair that with Yoongi’s dick shoved so far inside you and the nipple vibrators – you were losing your mind, head lolling as Jungkook sucked in a tight breath, rubbing the head of his cock hard and fast against your back. He lifted one of his hands off your hip to press his cock down against your back, smearing pre-cum everywhere. Slick, wet slapping sounds mixed with your moans, amplified by the vibrations on your nipples.

“F-fuck, I’m going to…”

“Hold on, Yoongi, please,” Jungkook begged, throwing his head back. “Please, I’m so fucking close.��

“Easy for y-you to say,” Yoongi gasped, clutching the sheets so hard his knuckles were white. “I’m the one inside her pussy.”

A choked wail tore through you, the multiple sensations too much as you came again, all over Yoongi’s cock, eyelids fluttering. You felt Jungkook’s grip tighten and he moaned out his release, shooting cum up your back. Yoongi pushed his head back into the pillows and groaned, cock jerking against your walls as he spurted into the condom, breathlessly calling out your name.

Jungkook grabbed the remote and turned off the nipple vibrators, finally giving you some rest. You flopped down on top of Yoongi, exhausted, fingers laced with his. He was panting hard, making you rise and fall with his chest.

The doorbell rang.

All three of you popped your heads towards the direction of the front door.

“Oh shit.” Jungkook’s eyes were wide. “The pizza.”

You frowned. “They wouldn’t ring the doorbell.”

Jungkook climbed off you, grabbing his sweatpants. Oh, great. Yes, just left his cum sprayed all over your back, especially when you were drained of energy. Yoongi let go of your hands gently.

“Let me get a towel,” Yoongi chuckled, disturbing you greatly as he slid out from under you.

Jungkook burst the door open, shirtless, black sweatpants low slung on his hips, tattooed arm extended with his right hand on the knob. A shorter man stood behind the door, recoiling quickly, as if he didn’t have his ear pressed against the door seconds before. His face was flushed pink, full lips trembling. He was in the pizza delivery boy uniform.

His name tag read “Park Jimin”.

“Ah, u-uh,” Jimin stuttered at Jungkook’s surprised expression. “We ran out of sweet potato, so we threw in an extra pizza. I-is that okay?”

“Oh!” Jungkook pouted as he took the pizzas. “Oh, that’s fine. We’ll get it next time.”

Jimin bowed deeply. “Sorry for the trouble! Thank you!”

And he ran.

Jungkook stood in the door, cradling the warm pizza, blinking at the swift exit.

“Uh… cool.”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #yoonkook x reader #yoonkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #jungkook x you #yoongi x you #jeon jungkook x you #min yoongi x you

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atc74 · 6 years ago

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Breaking The Law

Squares Filled: Cop AU for @spnaubingo / Neighbors for @spnkinkbingo / Thunderstorm for @spngenrebingo / Accidental Cuddling for @spnfluffbingo / First Kiss for BTZ Bingo

Warnings: Where do I start? Baking, Dean in uniform, incredibly horrible, daringly hilarious and completely inappropriate pick up lines, masturbation, dirty talk, use of a sex toy, use of handcuffs as restraints during sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, consensual role play, intentional law breaking. Crack, fluff, smut - what a package!

Summary: Y/N always bakes a pie for new folks when they move in to her quiet little Topeka neighborhood. When Dean Winchester moves in next door, she is in for a surprise. Her new, insanely hot neighbor is not what he appears and she formulates a plan to get what she wants.

Pairing: Cop!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 6333

Written for: @spngenrebingo @spnfluffbingo @spnkinkbingo @spnaubingo BTZ Bingo and @luci-in-trenchcoats who, over the course of a couple weeks said this: Hm, like obnoxiously fluffy lol. Maybe Dean meets the reader as a new neighbor or something and he doesn’t get a chance to say what he does for a living so she thinks he’s just this really nice guy always doing cute things around his house and with his family and then she finds out somehow he is one and is surprised because she thinks of him as super sweet Dean? Or you know, smutty cop Dean is always a safe bet too lol. Can’t go wrong with that. Dirty talk? Like because he’s so sweet that too is a bit of a shock.Maybe edging too? And then he’s as sweet as can be afterwards again? Michelle, I started writing and this is what came to me. I hope you love it! Even if it isn’t exactly what you asked for, I still think it’s pretty damn good! Thank you so much for the graphic! How you made this only knowing what squares I was filling boggles my mind!

Beta’d by: @hannahindie, my support beam and enabler, who had this to say: ‘Hahahaha yes. And yes...I am howling...Oh good lord almighty I’m gonna die...I think I blacked out.’ Han, thank you!

A/N: So when I got this request, I set out on a mission and google’d my little heart out. This is not the smuttiest, but it is definitely the funniest thing I have ever written. Enjoy!

Want Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker

Ringing the doorbell, Y/N stood on the front porch of her new neighbor’s house. It was a sultry evening and with the fresh baked pie in her hands, still warm from the oven, she was starting to sweat. “Dammit, just answer the damn door already!” She cursed under her breath just as the door swung open, a cool breeze hitting her in the face.

“Oh Christ that feels good!” Y/N exclaimed, pushing the pie into his hands as she walked through his front door, lifting the hair off her neck and fanning herself. Only slightly cooler than when he opened the door, she turned to him. “Welcome to the neighborhood!”

“Thank you?” He replied, looking at her with a confused look on his face. That is when she finally got a good look at him in person and not through the dusty windows in her kitchen.

“Damn! You’re a handsome one aren’t you?” she whistled, giving him a once over. “Sorry! Where are my manners! I’m Y/N Y/L/N, your neighbor.”

He shifted the pie to one hand and held his right out to her. “Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you, Y/N. Did you make me a pie?” He looked down to the glass dish in his hands.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Romeo. I’m a baker. It’s what I do. I bake the best pies in the county. I always bake a pie for someone when they move into the neighborhood,” she rolled her eyes and walked further into the house, without even a glance back at him. “Looks nicer than when Mr. McGregor lived here.”

“Well, from what I heard from my realtor, Mr. McGregor was ninety, a bit senile and a hoarder,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, but he liked my pie,” she smiled, remembering the sweet old man that had passed a few months earlier.

“Oh I bet he did,” Dean muttered, not taking his eyes off her ass as she walked toward the kitchen. Not that he minded a beautiful woman in his house, but this was a bit odd. He followed her, placing the pie on the counter.

“What did you say?” she turned around to face him.

“I said, I bet he did. This smells delicious! Apple?” He changed the subject and bent down to get a good whiff of the spicy goodness he couldn't wait to dig into.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said!” She laughed. “Well, I am sorry for barging in here like that on your first day in the new place. It was just getting so damn hot out there and with the warm pie, I was sweating like a whore in church! I better get out of your hair and let you settle in.”

He burst out laughing. “Oh my god! I haven’t heard that in forever!”

“Things old folks say, right?” She giggled, a hand over her mouth. “Anyway, nice meeting you Dean. I’m just that way if you need anything.” She pointed to her house and made her way for the front door.

“Thank you for the pie, Y/N. I’ll get the plate back to you tomorrow,” Dean walked her to the door.

“No hurry, just bring it back when you’re done. It should keep for the week just fine if you refrigerate it,” she informed him.

“Oh that won’t be necessary because it won’t last long. Pie is my favorite thing and I will probably have it finished by lunch tomorrow,” he told her.

“Well, then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye, Romeo,” she winked and walked out his front door.

“Holy hell! That’s the hottest guy I have ever met!” She shut her front door, leaning against the cool surface. “I’d only kick him out of bed to fuck him on the floor!”

“Fuck! She is the hottest chick ever,” Dean mumbled as he grabbed a fork and dug into the pie she made. “And she can bake pie? I gotta get me some of that.”

The next day, Y/N was busy baking away in her kitchen and trying to keep cool from the sweltering heat. Turning her trusty fan up a notch, she heard a knock on the door. As she approached the front, she could see a very tall, very built silhouette on her front porch. She turned the knob and opened the front door to a very sweaty Dean Winchester, her unfairly hot new neighbor. She stood there for a moment, checking him out.

“Do you work for UPS? Because I am pretty sure I just caught you checking out my package,” he asked, his deep voice rumbling through her body like an earthquake.

“Are you a sprinkler? Because you’re making me all wet,” she murmured in response, not even caring that Dean caught her checking him out and and damn did she like what she saw. “Well come in already! It’s fucking hot enough without you standing there, letting all the cool out!”

Dean’s jaw dropped an inch or two and he didn’t try to hide the fact that he was giving her the twice over. He had never met a girl so bold before and it made him bolder in return.

“Your pie was fucking delicious. I could eat that shit all night long,” he admitted, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes darting from her eyes to her mouth to her tits and back to her mouth.

“Oh yeah? What’s your favorite flavor Romeo?” she cooed, turning her back to him and slinking back to her kitchen.

“Whatever’s on the menu, Sweetheart,” Dean got a good long look at her ass as she opened the oven and removed the two freshly baked pies.

“Do you have a shovel? ’Cause I’m digging that ass!” He gave a hum of appreciation and continued to stare are her.

“Pretty awful pick up lines we got, huh?” she laughed.

“Yeah, they’re not the greatest, but it’s a good time!” He agreed.

She grabbed two beers out of her fridge and handed one to him. “So Dean, tell me a bit about yourself.”

“Uhh, I’m gainfully employed. I’ve got a brother, Sammy. He is an attorney in KC. My mom still lives in Lawrence in the house we grew up in. I have dinner with her every Sunday. My dad, uh, he died a few years ago,” Dean took a long pull off his beer.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” she smiled warmly, laying her hand on his arm.

“You know, he lived a good life. He loved us and he was proud of us. That’s all I need,” Dean shrugged. “But, you...you’re a baker. Like is that your career?” His deep green eyes lit up.

“No, not officially, not yet. Right now, I just bake as a hobby and I do some small time catering,” she replied. “I am saving up to open my own place. I have a responsible, adult job with medical coverage and a ton of vacation. I am kinda liking my gig right now.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I have held the same job for fifteen years and I love it. I get paid well to do what I love and the time off isn’t bad. I am dreading going back to work in a few days though,” he sighed, finishing the beer. “Thanks for the beer, Y/N. What time can I expect that pie delivery?”

“Oh, you think I deliver free of charge more than once?” she winked.

“I already told you I get paid well,” he winked back. His pink tongue darted out, licking his lips.

“You know, we could always just skip the niceties, go upstairs to my bed and do all the things I’m going to tell my girlfriends we did anyways,” she stepped closer to him, keeping her eyes locked on his.

He chuckled.

“What’s so funny, Romeo?” She was so close to him now, she could the heat radiating off him.

“Oh nothing. I was going to tell you a joke about my dick, but it’s too long,” he quipped. “Have a nice day, Y/N.” He turned and was out her front door before she could even respond.

It’s not that Y/N had never met a man as attractive as Dean before. It was that she had never met a man that attractive with a job and a sense of humor. He had values. He cared about his family. He had dinner with his mom every week and she could tell the way he talked about his brother that he loved him and was proud of him. So yeah, she had never met a man as attractive as Dean, and it wasn’t all about the looks.

She did not deliver a pie that evening. She stared at it on her kitchen island. Well, when she wasn’t staring at Dean. He was bent over the front of his car, his ass on full display, tinkering with something under the hood. She literally could stare at that ass for hours. And she mostly did, until it started getting dark. Then it just felt creepy watching him with the lights off. So she slipped on a pair of flip flops, grabbed the god damned pie and stomped over to his house.

He was still playing with that car when she reached his driveway. The muscles in his back flexing under the thin, damp cotton shirt. The flood lights illuminating every curve and dip as he worked. She admired his back side, before she made her presence known. “Are you butt dialing me right now Winchester? ‘Cause I swear that ass is calling me.”

He jerked upright so fast, he hit his head on the underside of the hood. “Son of bitch!”

“Oh my god, Dean! I am so sorry!” she placed the pie on the steps of his porch before rushing to his side. “Just let me take a look.”

“No! It’s fine!” he protested, still holding the back of his head.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I brought a peace offering...pecan?” She pointed to the pie on the stairs.

“Did you say pecan?” He asked.

“I did say pecan,” she replied.

“Damn sweetheart, that’s one of my favorites,” he winked and turned to grab the pie. “I like a woman that can bake. You know what else I like in a woman? My dick. Come on in.”

“Ha! As much fun as that sounds, I’ve already got plans,” she turned to leave. “Enjoy my pie, Dean and remember my name. You’ll be screaming it later.” She licked her lips and sauntered back to her front door, swinging her hips more than necessary.

Y/N lied about her plans for the evening, but Dean didn’t need to know what she was really doing. As hot as it was outside and as hot as Dean was making her on the inside, she hurried up to her room and stripped out of her sweaty clothes. She turned the ceiling fan on high, and pulled out her favorite toy.

Armed with only silicone, batteries, and the image of Dean, sweaty and covered in grease, stuck in her head, she played out her fantasies of him until she was too weak to move. Buck naked, she rolled over and slept peacefully for the first time since this heat wave hit.

Dean sat under the shower head, the cool water spraying over his tired muscles. He couldn’t get Y/N out of his mind. The way she unapologetically gives as good as she gets. That was the thing on his mind...giving it to her, hard and fast. His hand wandered to his dick. It was twitching at the mere thought of her. He gave it a squeeze, but knew it wouldn’t help. Dean stroked himself to full hardness, picturing Y/N. If he didn’t feel so relieved by his release, he would be embarrassed by how fast he came, like a fucking teenager. She was right about two things now. Her pie was out of this world and he came screaming her name.

She stayed away for a couple days to give her mind and hormones a rest, but she still couldn’t get Dean out of her mind. She caught glimpses of him every now then, but did her best to stay put, enjoying the last few days of her vacation.

She stepped outside one morning, the air cooler than it had been in more than a week. She decided it would be a good day to walk to the market and gather the supplies she needed for the large birthday party she was catering in a few days.

With her wagon full of fresh ingredients, she walked down the street toward home. She felt better since the weather had cooled down some and was looking forward to getting her baking done. She whistled as she approached the corner, waving to the mailman when she noticed a squad car parked in Dean’s driveway. His car wasn’t there, but she should’ve seen it coming. She knew he was too good to be true. She cursed herself for letting herself think the best of him. She put her head down and walked right on past to her own drive.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait up!” A familiar, deep voice called out to her.

She whipped her head up and saw Dean rushing toward her, a pie plate in his hands. He was wearing a Topeka Police Department uniform, complete with the utility belt holding a gun, taser, baton, and handcuffs.

“Sweetheart, you’re gonna catch flies if you keep that pretty mouth open any longer,” he laughed.

“You know, that uniform looks great on you,” she composed herself and licked her lips. “It would look even better on my bedroom floor.”

“Wow, I - uh…” Dean stammered, rubbing his free hand over the back of his neck nervously.

“Speechless, Winchester? I’m surprised,” she smiled coyly.

“Oh no, not at all. I just wanted to thank you for the pie. It was incredible. And when you decide to open that bakery, let me know if you want to add ‘impeccable gag reflex’ to your resume,” Dean smirked, handing her the pie plate and walking home.

She stood and watched as he opened the door and slid back into his cruiser. He gave her a wave and sped off down the street in the opposite direction. “I thought he was a mechanic!”

Y/N spent the entire afternoon baking, icing and baking some more. She had cakes, cupcakes, and cake pops. Her first floor looked like a birthday party vomited everywhere, but she didn't care. She was formulating a plan. Now, she just needed to put it into action.

She waited until she heard Dean’s car pull into his driveway. She had showered the icing out of her hair and even put on a little makeup and painted her toenails. She dressed in her shortest cutoffs and a tight tank top and slipped on a pair of heeled sandals. She placed a few mini pies on a platter and gracefully walked over to Dean’s front door.

Without knocking, she opened the door wide and slammed it shut behind her. She counted to five, but only made it to three before Dean ran down the stairs in nothing but black socks and matching black boxers, his gun drawn. “What the hell are you doing, Y/N? I could have shot you! You don’t just walk into someone’s house like that! Especially a house that belongs to a cop!”

“Oh hi Dean!” She chirped. “I just wanted to bring you some pies. I’m sorry. Am I trespassing?” She bit her bottom lip and popped one hip out.

“What?” he answered perplexed.

“I’m sorry? Are you questioning the pies or trespassing?” She walked into his kitchen and dropped the platter on the table.

“Pies or trespassing? Are you drunk?” Dean took the last few steps, coming to a stop at the door as she walked past him, putting her hand on the knob.

“Oops! Sorry,” she giggled and walked out.

Dean locked the door and leaned against it, letting his head hang down. That is when he noticed for the first time that he was just in his socks and underwear. And sporting a tent in his boxers. “What’s a nice girl like her doing in a dirty mind like mine?”

The next day, Dean went home for lunch to find Y/N laying out in her front yard. She was wearing a skimpy kelly green bikini and...was she spitting? He took a few steps to the edge of his lawn. Sure enough she was spitting on the sidewalk. What the hell? He shook his head and walked back home. He let himself in, remembering to lock the door this time, although he was sure he wouldn’t mind her trespassing wearing just those two slips of spandex she called a bathing suit.

Later that evening, Dean was sitting on his sofa, a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. He was watching the last inning of the Royals game against the Twins. He heard what sounded like singing coming from the street. He put the beer down and moved to his front window. Pulling the curtain back a little, he opened the window to listen, and watched for a couple minutes trying to figure out what the hell she was doing.

Y/N was riding a bicycle in those too short shorts and flip flops. She was singing the Alphabet Song. Now, Dean couldn’t deny she was the hottest thing he had seen in his entire life, but he was beginning to think she just might be bat shit crazy. He made a mental note to run a background on her before his shift the next day.

Dean woke earlier than normal the next day, showered and dressed and was out the door in record time. He sat down at his desk and pulled her report. There was nothing. She was clean, like squeaky clean. She didn’t even have a speeding ticket on her record. He just sat there and shook his head, not knowing what he was going to do about the hot and crazy neighbor chick. He wanted nothing more than to fuck her sane.

Each night for a week solid, Y/N rode her bike, or walked, up and down the block singing that damn children’s song. He decided then and there if he ever had kids, they were learning their ABC’s some other way because if he heard that fucking song one more time he was sure he just might shoot her.

He avoided her for the next week or two. He still saw her out in her yard. She would sing some nights and was still oddly spitting on the sidewalk. He missed their dirty banter and her pie. Maybe he should try to talk to her. Maybe she just needed a friend.

Dean walked over to her house with a six pack of beer. He stood on her front porch waiting for her to answer and just as he was about to go back home, the door opened. She greeted him warmly.

“Hey Dean, come on in,” she swung the door open so he could follow her.

“What is that smell? It smells like heaven!” Dean breathed deeply through his nose and closed his eyes.

“That is an order for Saturday. I am catering a police retirement party,” she commented, waving her hand over the dozens of baked goods in her kitchen.

“You’re the lady Bobby and Ellen have been raving about?” Dean marveled.

“I make more than just pie, Dean!” She told him, throwing a pinch of flour in his direction.

“Hey! Be nice,” Dean ducked, avoiding the mess. He grabbed a beer and handed her one. “So, do you usually socialize when you go to these parties?”

“No, they’re my clients, not my friends. Well, except for Bobby and Ellen. I worked with Ellen years ago and she was what I needed when my mother died. They’re like family,” she shrugged, cracking a few eggs into the bowl.

“Well, since you put it that way, would you like to come with me?” Dean asked. “I’ll be there, too. Bobby’s been like a father to me and my mentor since I was in the Academy.”

“Dean, I’m already going, besides, I will have work to do. I don’t just get to hang out all night like you do,” she replied, whisking the cake batter.

“Well, what if I help? That way, you have less to do and more time to spend with your extended family?” Dean offered. “And me.”

“We’ll see, Winchester. Now, if you’re not helping, you’re just in the way!” She poured the batter into a waiting pan and popped it in the oven.

“I’ll just be in your way,” Dean made a move to leave, but stopped. “I’ll see you Saturday, Y/N.” He gave her a wink and showed himself out.

“Hey Bobby!” Dean called out to the retiring chief. “I didn’t know you knew my neighbor, Y/N.”

“Oh yeah. She and the wife go way back,” Bobby commented, taking a sip of his coffee. “Don’t even think it boy. I’ll whoop you.”

“I can’t deny I feel something for her, Chief. But I think she might be a little ‘One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest’, if you know what I mean,” Dean relayed, his finger turning circles at his temple.

“She ain’t crazy boy, unless she’s into you,” Bobby chuckled. “She’s a sweet girl with a good head on her shoulders and is close to opening her own bakery.”

“Bobby! She rides up and down the block on her bicycle, singing the fucking ABC’s! She spits on the sidewalk for fuck sake! You know who does that? Crazy people!” Dean was shouting now.

“Oh boy, she got it bad. I gotta go call the wife,” Bobby walked away.

“What are you talking about, Chief?” Dean stepped in front of him, blocking his path back to his office.

“You ever looked up old laws that just never got gone?” Bobby asked him pointedly and Dean shook his head. “Just look ‘em up. Don’t be late to my party and remember I like Johnny Walker Blue.”

Dean was driving home from the retirement party behind Y/N’s delivery van. He kept replaying the night in his head. He also kept thinking about what he had found out the other day. Y/N wasn’t crazy, she was trying to tell him something. Now he just needed to get her to admit it.

He pulled into his driveway and hopped out of his car. “I’m gonna change quick, then I’ll help you bring in the rest, okay?” He called out to Y/N as she opened the back of her van.

“No problem. I’ll leave the door open, just let yourself in,” she called back, carrying a few trays in the house with her. A crack of thunder sounded above her and she rushed for the door. If she hurried, she could get them in before the storm started.

Dean quickly took off his jeans and button down and changed his clothes. He gave his teeth a good brush, then walked back out his front door, locking up behind him. Lightning had joined the thunder and the sky lit up as he made his way to Y/N’s front door.

He stepped up onto the porch and pounded loudly on the door. “Miss Y/L/N!”

“Dean, I told you to let yourself in!” she reminded him as she opened the door. Her jaw hit the floor as she took in his change of attire. “Wha-what are you doing, Dean?”

“Well, Miss Y/L/N, we’ve been getting complaints in recent weeks and decided it was time to look into it before it became a big problem,” Dean stood with his hands on his belt and his voice carried an air of authority. The sky opened up and the rain pelted down.

Y/N involuntary pressed her legs together. She could already feel the wetness in her panties just from looking at him. “I’m sorry, Officer…”

“Winchester, ma’am,” Dean nodded, not breaking character.

“I’m sorry, Officer Winchester. What complaints are you talking about?” She asked, batting her eyelashes. This was it, she thought.

“One of your neighbors said you’ve been spitting on the sidewalk. And not only is it unfitting of a lady like yourself, it’s also against the law, Miss,” Dean took a step forward, breaching the threshold.

“I’m so sorry, Officer,” she cooed, looking up at him. Even as he took another step closer, she didn’t back up like he expected.

“You’ve also been singing the Alphabet Song at night,” Dean added to her list of complaints.

“I love to sing, Officer Winchester,” she smiled. “I didn’t know singing was against the law.”

“And you entered the home of a law enforcement officer without proper permission. Miss Y/L/N, that is trespassing,” Dean took one more step, closing the gap between them. His uniformed figure just inches from her. She ran her eyes up and down.

“But we’re neighbors, Officer Winchester,” she looked back up at him. “And I brought him pie. He likes my pie.”

“That’s not the point, Miss Y/L/N. You’ve been carrying on with illegal activities for days and I’m here to put an end to it,” Dean reached behind his back for his cuffs. “Unless we can come to some kind of arrangement…”

“Oh Officer Winchester, what kind of arrangement?” Y/N queried, her voice breathy as her lips parted. “I have pie.”

“Oh Miss Y/L/N, I’m not sure pie will be enough to get you out of this predicament,” Dean grabbed her wrist and unfolded the cuffs. He pressed the cold metal to her heated skin.

“If you show me what I can do to get out of this, I promise I’ll learn my lesson, Officer Winchester,” she panted, holding her wrists out for him. “Surely a big strong man like yourself can show me.”

“Oh, I can show you alright, Miss Y/L/N,” Dean slapped the cuffs on one wrist, then the other and led her through the house back to her kitchen. “This looks like it’ll do.”

Dean pushed her forward over the island, her cuffed wrists in front of her. He pressed into her back as he leaned over her. “You ready for your lesson, Miss Y/L/N?” He breath was hot and heavy in her ear.

“Yes!” She shouted. “Officer Winchester, is that a weapon in your pants?”

“Oh sweetheart, I am armed and dangerous,” he growled. He let go of her and walked around the front of the island. It was narrow enough that her hands her hanging over the edge. He uncuffed one of her wrists, wrapped the cuff around the silver handle and recuffed her.

“Oh my god, Dean,” she moaned as a gush of wetness left her throbbing pussy.

“That’s Officer Winchester, Miss Y/L/N,” he corrected her as he walked around the other side of the island, coming to a stop behind her. He undid his utility belt, letting it crash loudly to the floor due to its weight.

She heard the rustling of fabric and the metal of his zipper and swore her pussy was leaking like a sieve. She felt two strong hands on her back as they trailed down her spine and across the swell of her ass up in the air. The touching didn’t stop there. His hands moved over her cheeks and down her thighs until he reached the bottom of her skirt.

A cool breeze blew across the backs of her legs as Dean pulled up the back of her skirt. He whistled low as he admired her backside.

“Christ sweetheart! This all for me? You’re so wet, it’s dripping through your panties,” Dean breathed out heavily. She felt his breath against her thighs and spread them for him as much as she could in her position.

“I do love a man in uniform Officer Winchester. It just turns me on so much, I could come just from you talking to me and wearing that,” she panted, looking at him over her shoulder.

“Fuck,” he whispered. His fingers hooked into the sides of her panties, pulling them down and over the cute little boots she had on. “I can smell you. You smell just as good as those pies you’ve been making me. Now I want to taste your pie.”

Her moans increased as he buried his face in her wanting pussy from behind. At the first drag of his tongue against her sodden hole, she screamed out in pleasure. “Dean!”

“Sweetheart, do you know why they call me the cat whisperer? ‘Cause I know just what your pussy needs,” he licked, his tongue breaching her and sending her into her first orgasm. “Wow. That’s impressive.”

“I told you,” she mumbled against her arm. Her legs were trembling already and he had barely touched her.

“Well, I better try harder,” Dean announced. He walked back around and uncuffed her. He flipped her over and lifted her onto the counter. “Such a beautiful fucking pussy and I’m gonna wreck it.”

His tongue darted out over her outer lips as he slipped two fingers inside her easily. She was tight, but so wet and dripping for him. He pumped gently at first, exploring her both inside and out. Her moans were louder as he flicked her clit from his left and her hips bucked off the counter as he did it over and over. As he circled her swollen nub, he finally reached that sweet spot inside her with his fingers and within no time at all, she was coming again.

“Fuck, Dean! Oh my God!” she cried.

“Fuck me,” Dean panted, his cock hard in his pants.

“Upstairs, now!” Y/N sat up, her pussy dripping all over her counter and down her thighs.

Dean picked her up in one move and took the stairs two at a time.

“Last door on the left,” she pointed and he opened the door. He set her down gently on the bed then stripped out of his pants.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” Dean confessed, his eyes never leaving hers as she slipped off her boots and skirt, wearing only a sleeveless blouse.

“Oh Officer Winchester, you have got a dirty mouth on you,” she tsked, running her hands up her body, stopping to play with her breasts.

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m afraid I do,” Dean agreed. He moved toward her. She opened her legs invitingly as he reached the edge of the bed. “I’m still new here, and I’m not stopping until your legs are shaking and all the neighbors know my name.”

“Dean, I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” she breathed.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” Dean promised, as he removed his pants. She reached up and started unbuttoning his shirt.

“You already have. Please let me,” she reached for his boxers and slipped her slender fingers in the waistband,

“I can’t wait, Y/N. I’ve been dying to get inside that pussy for weeks. Please, there’ll be time for that later,” Dean was on his knees, shrugging out of his uniform shirt.

Y/N pulled her blouse over her head, revealing her lace and satin covered breasts to him. He swallowed loudly and got up off his knees. He picked her up under her arms and moved her to the top of the bed, before settling over top of her, bracing himself on his elbows.

Their eyes met and he crashed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft, but wanting. Dean’s lips were softer than she expected, but firm as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. Her mouth parted and she slipped between his lips, her tongue seeking his. “Dean.”

“Y/N, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?” Dean murmured, his lips trailing across her jawline.

“I have an idea. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that first night. And then there was all the flirting and fuck, I’ve never wanted someone so badly in my life,” she panted between the kisses he bestowed on her. His lips moved further down her neck.

“You make me so hard.”

“I’m so wet for you Dean.”

“Oh Christ.”

Dean’s lips wandered over her collarbone, stopping at the swell of her breast. He reached behind her with one hand and flicked open the clasp. His lips moved to her shoulder, slipping the strap down slowly as he edged on the thunderstorm brewing inside of her. He moved to the other side, mimicking his movements until she was bared to him.

“You’re ravishing,” Dean professed, his eyes roaming her bare body laid out before him.

“Dean, baby, fuck me, please,” she pleaded with him. Her hands moved to his boxers, slipping them down over his hips. She used her feet to remove them, until he too, was bare.

“Yes, God yes,” Dean moved back over her, one hand guiding his cock toward her entrance, but stopped. “Fuck! Condom? I didn’t bring my wallet. I’m sorry.”

“Dresser, top drawer,” she heaved, so close to where she wanted him.

Dean bolted from the bed, ripping open the top drawer of her dresser. It took him no time at all to find what he was looking for and he tore open the package, rolling the rubber over his dick. He was back in her bed and where he really wanted to be.

“You ready for me sweetheart?” Dean looked into her eyes and she nodded. He held her gaze as he slowly pushed inside her wanting hole. “God, you’re so fucking tight!”

She moaned as he finally bottomed out inside of her. “I love the way you fill me up, Dean. Like my pussy was made for you.”

Dean pulled out and pushed back in faster and faster with each pass, growling with intensity. “I’m gonna make this pussy mine.”

“It’s yours Dean, take it!” she sobbed as the storm raged on inside her. With the two orgasms he had already given her, she knew it wouldn’t take her long to reach that edge again.

“Fuck, Y/N! You feel so good,” Dean grunted, his pace increasing as he pounded into her. “Gonna wreck this perfect pussy.”

“Oh my god Dean! I-I’m gonna come. Ohhhhhhhhhh!” her pretty little mouth froze in a perfect o shape, the scream forced out of her under Dean’s thrusts.

“I’m right there, God you feel so good,” Dean groaned as he pulled her leg up to change the angle. He carried her through her release, her walls clenching around him as he found his own. He gave one final pump, stiffening and stilling inside her as he filled the condom. “Fuck.”

After they had given themselves a few moments of rest, Dean rose from the bed, and returned with a warm towel. He cleaned them both up, then crawled into the bed next to her. They were both laying on their backs, staring up at the ceiling.

“I was wondering how long it would take you. How long I would have to sing that stupid fucking song,” she turned her head to look at him.

“It took me a while to figure it out. It was actually Bobby that clued me in. I just thought you were all ‘Girl Interrupted,’ Dean admitted.

“I don’t know what it is about a man in uniform, but it literally does things to me. I can’t explain it,” she confessed.

“I’m sorry about earlier...you know, if I was a little rough with you,” Dean turned to his side, facing her.

“I kinda liked it, Dean. What would you say if I said I was thinking about installing a new bathtub?” she smiled at him.

“I would have to cuff you and read you your rights, Miss Y/L/N,” Dean leaned in and kissed her deeply.

She pulled away for a breath, looking into those deep emerald eyes. “Think we can have a snowball fight this winter?”

“You’re nothing but trouble woman,” Dean laughed. “I should probably get going.”

“You don’t have to leave, you know,” she placed a hand on his arm.

The sun broke through the flimsy curtains in Y/N’s bedroom, filling the room with the bright orange and gold of the sunrise. Dean stirred, burying his head in the pillow, away form the sunlight. The pillow moved, feeling silky under his stubbled cheek. And it smelled of vanilla. “Shit! I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean-”

“Dean, relax, it’s okay. I’m a bit of a cuddler myself. But I should probably ask...post-coital-cuddle-by-accident isn’t against some strange Topeka law is it?” she giggled, wrapping her arm around his waist, she felt his morning wood press into her thigh.

“No, no it isn’t,” Dean breathed in her scent as he pulled her into him.

“Damn, I guess I’m going to have to start breaking real laws now,” she pressed a kiss to his chin.

“I don’t want to have to arrest you for real. How about if I just show up in uniform once a week to take the edge off?” Dean offered.

“What about the other six nights? Can you take the edge off those, too?” She asked.

“I think we can come to some type of arrangement,” Dean agreed, his hips rutting against her.

“I think I’m going to order that new bathtub...the corner one. That’s big enough for two,” she breathed out as his fingers found her core.

“I think I should probably invest in some new cuffs,” Dean claimed her lips with his. They had plenty of time to come up with some type of arrangement.

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

The Whole Enchilada: @closetspngirl @emoryhemsworth @iwantthedean @meganwinchester1999 @sis-tafics @wilde-abandon @wegoddessofhell @holyfuckloueh @horsegirly99 @smoothdogsgirl @dolphincliffs @thisismysecrethappyplace @neeadinghugs @roxyspearing @theoriginalvicki @andkatiethings @mrswhozeewhatsis @just-another-busy-fangirl @linki-locks11 @evansrogerskitten @hennessy0274-blog @hobby27 @kdfrqqg @gh0stgurl @charliebradbury1104 @blacktithe7 @the--blackdahlia @fortisetgloriosusinarduis @roseblue373 @hannahindie @pinknerdpanda @cherrycokegirls1 @mogaruke @kickingitwithkirk @wotinspntarnation

The Dean’s List: @supernatural-jackles @dean-winchesters-bacon @docharleythegeekqueen @maddiepants @squirrel-moose-winchester @amanda-teaches @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @adoptdontshoppets @wingedcatninja @akshi8278 @kathaswings @deansgirl215 @x-waywardaf-x @elara98azalea @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @pretty-fortune @deanwinchesterwitch

AU Tags: @luci-in-trenchcoats @kayteonline

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theridiculouspanda · 7 years ago

Text

Benny Weir x Reader: Negative

Fandom: My Babysitter’s a Vampire

Characters: Benny, Evil Benny?

Warnings: Kinda smut, hurt benny

Word Count: 934

Summary: Dryhumping in the boys bathroom is the last thing you thought you would be doing with you boyfriend. It turns out the man you thought was your boyfriend wasn’t.

A/N:I had wrote this forever ago and was to scared to post it. But fuck it so here ya go. Hope you enjoy!!

You were standing at your locker getting looking for you pencil bag that you seemed to misplaced.

You let out an annoyed huff then slammed your locker shut. You jumped when you saw benny standing there'd leaning against the locker smirking at you. It was Benny but it wasn’t Benny. This Benny had a leather jacket on and sunglasses. Weird. Although you had to admit he looked hot as fuck.

“Hey Benny,” you smiled.

“Hey sweetheart,” he said with that smirk still on his face.That pet name just makes you melt, you slightly blushed. He took off his glasses off.

“So, we still on for the Star Wars marathon tonight?” you asked. You dropped your backpack on the ground. The bag that held your school supplies was pretty heavy, and Benny tends to talk a lot so you didn't want to hold it while he blabbed.

“Nah, let's do something fun,” he said. You furrowed your brows. He was really excited about it a few hours ago.

“Um, okay. What do you have in mind?” You asked. You were kind of disappointed. You were looking forward to sitting on the couch and falling asleep on Benny. You had been dating Benny for a while. He was great, he treated you like a person. He didn't want to just get into your pants like the rest of the boys in your high school.

“How ‘bout this,” he stated. You were about to question what he was talking about when he slammed his lips on yours, pushing you into the locker. It was...unexpected to say the least. You kissed back after the shock wore off. His hands gripped tight on your waist. Your hands on his chest. He moved from your lips to your jaw and neck, placing sloppy open-mouthed kisses. You had to admit this did sound better than a Star Wars marathon.

“Nhhgg, Benny,” you softly moaned. You were a little worried that someone would interrupt your moment with Benny.

“C’mon,” he whispered, nibbling your ear lobe. His hot breath made you shiver. He broke away from you, pulling you into the boys bathroom. He pushed you against the wall. He started kissing you again. His hands were squeezing your hips, they traveled down to you thighs. He wrapped one of your legs around his waist. He grinded his pelvis against yours. You could feel his hard-on through his pants. He smirked when you let out a whimper.

You gripped at his leather jacket, wanting more friction. And Benny did deliver. You never thought you would be dry humping, in the boys bathroom, of white chapel high school, but here you were.

“Fuck, Y/N. You look so good like this, so desperate for my cock,” He whispers in your ear. Holy fuck, hearing such filth come from Benny, was one of the most fucking hottest thing you ever heard. You and Benny kept a rhythm. You had your head buried in the crook of his neck. You were in pure ecstasy.

You hear the bathroom door swing open. You pushed Benny away from you. It's not like you wanted to, but you really didn't want some stranger to see one of the most intimate moments you and Benny share. Your cheeks started to heat up.

“Oh shit, my bad…-Y/N?” Asks...Benny? You mind was still a little foggy from lust, but this was freaking you the fuck out.

“Benny?” You asked, to the Benny that looked like the normal Benny.

“Whoa, negative me, Y/N is off limits,” Benny said, looking slightly angry and hurt.

“Oh, come on. We were having fun. Weren't we babydoll?” The Benny you had been kissing smacked your ass. You jumped turning to the normal looking Benny.

“Benny, what's happening?” You knew a pretty good amount of stuff about the supernatural. And unless Benny had a twin he never told you about, this had to be magic.

“The camera I gave to the yearbook committee makes evil copy's when you take a picture of someone,” he explained, glaring at...himself?

“So this is Evil Benny?” You asked, slightly backing away toward the real Benny.

“Evil or not, Y/N was enjoying herself. Isn't that right, babygirl?” Evil Benny asked smirking. You blushed slightly because you know he's right but there is no way in hell you would ever admit that out loud.

Good Benny and Evil Benny fought, throwing punches and insults.

Good Benny of course won. Flushing the negatives picture.

———

You and Benny sat on his couch, watching Star Wars. He was kind of distant today, but that was expected. He saw his girlfriend almost fucking someone who wasn't him. Well…it was him, but it wasn't.

“Why did you kiss him?” he whispered brokenly. This pulled you away from the movie on the screen.

“I just thought you were going for a new look,” you said grabbing his hand, squeezing it before continuing.

“Benny if I knew that wasn't you, I wouldn't have kissed him,” you said looking into his eyes.

“I know...it's just…-weird,” he said shaking his head.

“How ‘bout I make it up to you,” you asked smirking.

“How?” He asked. He knew what you were talking about and he wasn't about to complain. You straddled his lap, starting to kiss your neck.

“Mmmm, I don't know. What do you want to do?” You asked against his neck. He put his hands on your waist. You felt his swallow hard.

“I can think of a few things,” he said, grinding his hips up. Yeah, you like this Benny way better.

#my babysitter's a vampire #benny weir #benny #benny x reader #benny weir x reader #mbav #mbav x reader #my babysitters a vampire x reader #benny imagine #benny weir imagine #benny oneshot #benny weir oneshot #mbav benny weir x reader

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drabbles-and-shit · 7 years ago

Text

The Mailman is Really Attractive and Dean is Smitten

When Dean first saw the new mailman that Saturday afternoon, his body had such an immediate and visceral reaction, he had to excuse himself to his bedroom for a little quality time with his right hand.

Seriously, it was insane; nothing like that had ever happened to Dean. He only figured out that he was attracted to both guys and guys about a year ago, but he’d never even had that sort of response to a girl. And what’s worse? It was one of the best experiences he’s ever had jacking off.

Like, no shit, that mailman was the hottest human Dean ever laid eyes on, and he wasn’t even Dean’s type! Dean had always gone for the petite guys, because you know, he was a dom. Well, with guys he was. He had actually started experimenting letting girls top him, and much to his own embarrassment, he actually really liked it. There was something about someone else being in control that was hot as fuck. But, just girls. He wanted nothing in his asshole, ever, thank you very much. But anyway, even though he only ever had pursued twink-types, the mailman was buff as fuck. He had looked like he was about Dean’s height, and the summer heat-induced sweat made for a uniform that clung to his body just so Dean could see rippling muscle underneath. And the shorts, no matter how silly looking for being as short as they were, let Dean see the legs of either a runner who swims in his spare time or just the legs of an actual Adonis. And his forearms! God, so strong and tanned and--Dean noticed he was developing another situation down south and forced himself to concentrate on gross things like old people making out or his brother Sam’s face. Good, good; the situation went back down.

~***~

An uneventful week later, and Dean was back looking out his front window, shamelessly watching and waiting for the new mailman. He had no idea if he was actually going to come around again; hell, he might have just been filling in that one day for the old guy that Dean normally saw bringing the mail.

But Dean’s curiosity was rewarded, because after about ten minutes of casual spying, he noticed the mailman walking up the sidewalk with his messenger bag over one shoulder, radiating sexual appeal. God, he was just as hot as last week.

Oh my god, wait, he walked by the mailbox and towards the door. He was coming to the door. He probably had a package or something. But not the porno kind. Shit, what if he saw Dean last week? Dean jumped behind his couch as fast as humanly possible and tried to not breathe, because nobody was home. No one. Was. Home.

The doorbell rang, and Dean sucked his breath in and froze. Shit, the TV was on. He had completely forgotten it, and now the sexy mailman was going to know he was hiding like a kid afraid of Jehovah’s Witnesses, and he was going to judge him ughhhh. Suffice to say, Dean was fucking embarrassed.

He waited a solid five minutes before sneaking back to the window and checking the mailman was gone before opening his front door and grabbing the package off the step. His embarrassment was forgotten quickly, because it was his Star Trek phaser from ThinkGeek! Charlie was going to be sooooo jealous, and he couldn’t fucking wait to gloat. He snapped a picture of it and shot it off to her.

Dean: Looks like I win the gayness contest, because I can set phasers to STUN #2fab4u

Charlie: Oh my god, it came!!

Charlie: You had better bring that to work Monday so I can play with it

Dean: Only if you promise to not break it

Charlie: Btw did you see the hottie today??

Dean: Duh where did you think the package came from?

Charlie: DID YOU TALK TO HIM?!?!

Dean: You kidding? No way, Jose

Charlie: Ugh you’re no fun

Charlie: Wait. I have an idea! You should write him a letter and put it in your mailbox so he can read it when he brings your mail!!

Dean: Do you even know me? Charmando, I wouldn’t do something like that if my life depended on it

Charlie: You’re such a scaredy cat, Winchester

Dean: And proud

~***~

Drunk Dean sometimes did things that Sober Dean had to pay for, especially when his best friend/arch nemesis Charlie was involved. They always went for drinks together after work on Fridays, and somehow Dean always ended up being the only one of the two of them that did stupid, drunk person stuff. He was beginning to suspect that maybe she didn’t actually even drink, just pretended to so that she could talk his more malleable alter ego into doing what she wanted him to. Like, just a random example, writing a note to the sexy mailman.

He was going to kill her. Saturday morning met him with a skull splitting headache, and more importantly, oodles of regret. Because yes, he could vaguely remember sitting down with a pen and a piece of paper last night and writing… something. God, he couldn’t remember what the hell he had written. Maybe he had enough time to run out to the mailbox and take it out before it was too late!

Dean pulled on his sweatpants and charged out into the painfully bright midday sun. Despite his body’s many protests, he made it to the mailbox in record time, but it was for nothing, because when he opened it up, the note was gone and had been replaced by what looked like a bill and some coupons for pizza. He couldn’t really be sure, because his eyes felt like he was stabbing them full of needles. He defeatedly walked back into his house and pulled out his phone.

Dean: Dude. What happened last night. Tell me or I’m going to send your girlfriend your prom photos

He waited for a response while chewed discontentedly on a piece of cold bacon from the fridge and sipping a glass of water. He didn’t have to wait for long though, and he soon heard the telltale R2-D2 beep that was Charlie’s text alert noise.

Charlie: You were so plastered, my man. It was wild.

Charlie: I take it you only just woke up and didn’t have time to get the letter out of the box?

Dean: Shit, so that really happened? Dear god, tell me I didn’t write anything too embarrassing?

Charlie: You politely told him you wanted to suck his dick

Dean: I’ve got the picture ready to send!

Charlie: Ugh, fine. No, all you said was that you thought he looked nice and were wondering what happened to the old guy who used to bring your mail. Tbh it was pretty cute. I love drunk you

Dean sighed in relief. It was still as embarrassing as balls, but maybe the guy will think Dean has a kid or something and they wrote it. He can only hope at this point.

~***~

When Dean got home from work Monday evening and opened up the mailbox, his hopes that the mailman would just ignore the letter were proven useless.

Sitting there in the box, on top of a classic car magazine he subscribed to, was a small blue envelope with no stamp and just his first name in rather lovely script in the middle. He ripped it open before he even got inside, because holy fuck, there’s no one who would drive by his house just to put a letter in my mail other than Mr. Sexypants. It read:

Dear Dean,

I’m guessing by your handwriting and subject matter that you’re either a child or a drunk man. If it’s the former, please tell your parents that I am not a pedophile. Please. If you’re an adult and just have terrible handwriting, I’m sorry for touching on a sore subject.

Anyway, Cain, your previous mail carrier, was only working your route temporarily. He actually is one of the higher-ups for the USPS and was delivering mail as a sort of extended vacation from management. Odd, I know.

I appreciate that you think I look nice, and if you’re the adult male who lives at this address, I think you do too. If you’re a child, I’m sure you look nice, but in a non-pedophilic way.

Yours,

Castiel

Oh my god, Dean was in love. Haha, just kidding. He’s not in love; what are you talking about? Totally not in love. Nope, not at all. He lunged inside, pulled off his jacket and tie, and began furiously debating whether or not to tell Charlie about this. On the one hand, she’s his only real friend besides his younger brother, who is constantly busy with lawyer-things. But on the other hand, she would totally gloat about this for the rest of her life. But fuck it, he needs to talk to someone about this, because he never has romance in his life!

Dean: Omg you’ll never believe what happened\\

Charlie: Ooh! What??!

Dean: Mr. Double Stuffed Hotness is named Castiel, and I might want to marry him

Charlie: HE WROTE BACK?!?! It’s fate, my young grasshopper

Dean: I’m gonna send you a pic of the letter he wrote back so you can help me figure out what to write back

Charlie: You had better let me be your best man!! AND let me officiate!!! I’m already planning my speech

Dean: Don’t get ahead of yourself… but I’m actually kind of psyched rn

And so the planning began. Eventually, they decided on a note that read the following:

Dear Castiel,

As you deduced, I was drunk. Don’t worry, I’ll tell my parents you aren’t a pedophile anyway, just in case. Of course, they’re both in their 60s and will probably also assume I’m drunk, but better safe than sorry.

Thank you for saying I look nice, though I can’t imagine when you’ve seen me. I’m normally at work when you bring the mail (around 1:30pm, right?), so have you seen me on a Saturday? Okay, you don’t need to answer, just in case you’re actually a stalker or something. It’s never good to confront the bad guy in horror movies, and I’ve learned my lesson.

Hey, is your name really Castiel, or is that a pseudonym? I googled it, and it’s the name of the Angel of Thursday? What’s so special about Thursdays?

Live long and prosper,

Dean

~***~

Dear Dean,

I’m very glad I won’t be going to jail for calling a child attractive. You can probably hear my sigh of relief from there.

I can neither confirm nor deny when/where I have seen you. Also, are you calling me the antagonist of a horror film? If so, please enlighten me on which one, because I’m rather a fan of being scared shitless, and I’m sure seeing myself as the murderer will make an horror viewing experience even more terrifying.

And yes, my name is really Castiel. Let’s just say my parents were hippies. Many people call me Cas, though, and my siblings call me Cassie. I don’t like my siblings very much.

What about you? Why are you named Dean? Did your parents hope you would create a list of exceptional people? Or perhaps they wanted you to grown up to resemble Dean Martin?

I’m sorry, I don’t know where all that rude sass came from; it’s been a long day.

Khaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan,

Cas

~***~

Mr. Spock,

I had a girlfriend named Cassie once! Sort that information away for a future test, I suppose. How many siblings do you have? I one brother, and he can be such a bitch sometimes, so I definitely get where you’re coming from.

As it happens, I’m named after my grandmother, Deanna. And I swear to god, if you make fun of me for that, I will, um, do something… I don’t know exactly what yet, but I’ll figure it out, and it’ll be awful, I promise!

So, is it really that hard being a mailman? (You said it had been a rough day.) I’m a mechanic, by the way. If you ever need to know anything about cars, just hit me up, and I’ll be happy to help. For a price… Ha, just kidding. Maybe…

Dammit Cas, I’m a mechanic, not a doctor!

Dean

~***~

Bones,

I find it slightly perturbing that my nickname is also the name of your ex. But I always ace tests, so I guess I’m glad to know it anyway.

I have 5 siblings. I know. Hippies don’t believe in birth control, I guess. But yes, family of 8, from Michael the oldest, down to Sam the youngest. Since I’m on the subject, I suppose I might as well list off all my siblings. There’s Mike, Gabe, Luce, me, Anna, and Sam, ranging in ages from 37 to 21. Oh, I’m the ripe old age of 29, by the way. Not that that matters. Jesus, this entire letter is me talking about my family, sorry.

And no, it’s not hard being a mailman, but it is hard having to take your beloved cat to the veterinarian because they’re refusing to eat, not having bowel movements, and rolling around on the floor, meowing in pain. The poor guy had a blockage and almost died. It was a tough day.

I might just take you up on your offer to help explain things about cars, because I am completely clueless about them. I drive an old clunker that eats gas money like nobody’s business, and I really need to get a new car as soon as possible.

Have you been at the Romulan ale again??

Cas

~***~

Castiel,

I know I signed my last note with a Bones reference, but make no mistake, I am 100% Kirk, and I would appreciate it if you referred to me as such. Thank you for not forcing me to pursue legal action.

Dude, my younger brother is named Sam! Well, technically he’s named Samuel, after our grandfather, but still. Weird. And I’m 32, so that’s cool I guess.

I’m sorry to hear about your cat; that sounds pretty awful. I’ve never really had pets, and I’m actually allergic to cats, but I remember when Sammy’s dog was hit by a car and how distraught he was. I’m guessing your cat is all right now, though? If so, I’m glad. If not, sorry for rubbing salt in the wound.

Dude, do not drive that car. Like, stop it now. Please, for the sake of car lovers everywhere. Take it down to Singer’s Auto Salvage Yard; Bobby is a friend of mine, and if you tell him I sent you, he’ll give you a good price for it, and then you can use that money to buy something that’s not a piece of shit.

*funny Star Trek reference here*

Captain James Tiberius Kirk

~***~

Jim,

Can you sense me rolling my eyes? Because there’s some serious ocular oscillation going on right now in reference to your threats.

And I shortened my Sam’s name, too. His full name is Samandriel. Hippies, am I right?

Yes, my cat is fine, thank Talos. He is my best friend, and I don’t think I would be able to function properly if something happened to him. He’s a black shorthair named Toothless, by the way. Yes, I’m a basic bitch. Bite me.

I’ll try and take your advice about the car. I think my car is actually the automobile form of Sauron’s ring of power, because every time I’ve tried to get rid of it, it talks me into keeping it. I know in my heart that it needs to be torn apart for scraps, that it is taking advantage of me and should be destroyed before it does something terrible, but it’s mine. My own. My...precious…

Oh, my biggest problem is that if I sell her, I don’t know anything about buying cars, so I’m afraid someone will take advantage of my naivete and sell me an equally shitty car for a ridiculous price. Any suggestions?

*I can do this too*

Spock Spock Spock-ity Spock

~***~

Spockity,

God, I wish my parents had been hippies. Instead they were hippos. Yep, I was adopted by a pair of hippopotami at the age of four. Don’t believe me? Ask the Topeka Zoo, and they’ll corroborate my story. (Please don’t actually do that; they might remember me from when I was a teenager and broke in there to try and pet the giraffes.)

And I will never judge anyone for loving How To Train Your Dragon, because that movie was legendary. Toothless is the cutest dragon probably ever, and Hiccup is such a dreamboat.

Um, we definitely need to get rid of that car. Do not take me for some conjurer of cheap tricks! I’m trying to help you. And speaking of helping you, if you find a car and want to know just how swindled you’re going to be, just send me the information, and I can let you know if you should buy it or not!

So… what kind of music do you like? I’m a big classic rock fan, and if you aren’t I will become determined to change that about you.

Can we up switch references? Maybe Princess Bride or something?

Princess Buttercup

~***~

Buttercup,

I find your story inconceivable. But did you truly grow up in Kansas? Personally, I grew up in the wilds of Washington; Seattle, actually.

And good; I would be very upset with you if you didn’t love Toothless and Hiccup, though I must say Hiccup is not exactly my type. I like my men a little older than he (recall that I’m not a pedophile), and I think any man I may date should definitely be my size or larger, or else I might kill them accidentally in bed. Huh, I guess we haven’t really talked about sexuality ever, so sorry if that made you uncomfortable.

I would greatly appreciate it if you would actually send me your phone number or email or something, so I could send you the information on a car I’m seriously considering buying. If you’d rather not hand out such personal information, I completely understand though.

I confess I haven’t listened to much classic rock. I mostly listen to classical music, though I’ve been delving into the genre of lofi hiphop, and I actually really enjoy it.

As you wish,

Vizzini

~***~

Vizzini,

You keep using that word; I do not think it means what you think it means…

Yes, I grew up in Kansas, a little town called Lawrence to be precise. And the bit about breaking into the zoo was real too, so please don’t report me.

And honestly, I’m kind of in a weird experimental stage with my sexuality right now. I know, that’s supposed to happen during college, but maybe I’m just not a normal guy, all right? Anyway, I think I’ve officially decided I’m bisexual, but who knows? Romance is tiring, but sex is fun, and I don’t really mind who the hole belongs to. Jesus, that sounded awful and disgusting; sorry. I’m not even really like that any more. I haven’t had a hookup for like three months, which has got to be some kind of record. Sorry, this I should stop writing while I have the chance.

Totally send me the deets about the car, man. My number is 1-866-907-3235

Dude, I’m going to indoctrinate you. You fucking need to listen to classic rock; it’s the stuff of gods. Maybe I’ll make you a mixtape or something so you can listen to all the best songs. Weird question: do you have a tape player? I’m kind of old fashioned, so yeah, I’m going to make you a cassette tape with my favorite Zepp tracks on it.

Mahwage, dah bwessed awangment,

The Dread Pirate Roberts

~***~

For some reason, it was taking Cas a long time to get back to Dean. They had kind of worked out an unspoken schedule by this point; one of them put a letter in the box Monday, the other responded by Wednesday, and then the first sent back a response the Friday of the same week. Basically three letter a week for the past month or so. No, that’s not weird or creepy for two adult men to do at all.

Dean had dropped off that last letter on a Monday, but no reply came on Wednesday. He tried to not let it bother him, thinking Cas was probably busy or something. But then there wasn’t a reply Thursday or Friday either, and he started to get a little miffed. The least Cas could have done was to text him now that he had his number, but noooo. Unfortunately, Dean had to be out of town that Saturday, so no confrontation could happen over the 1:30 mail delivery.

The next Saturday rolled around with no word from Cas again, and Dean was starting to get legitimately worried. He would have understood if the guy took some time off maybe for being sick or something, but two weeks? Nobody takes two weeks off, especially without telling their… friend? Suddenly, Dean’s ridiculous number of insecurities started blaring at him. What if he and Cas weren’t friends? What if he didn’t actually mean anything to Cas at all? He probably was just another drain on Cas’ time, and Cas had finally decided he’d had enough and didn’t want to talk to Dean anymore. Hell, he might have requested a different route because Dean was harassing him. Shit, of course all this was too good to be true. Dean never made friends; Charlie was the only acception to that painful trend, and he had no idea why she still hung out with him.

Dean knew those thoughts too well; he knew his own self-loathing always came around and wouldn’t leave until he started thinking about other things. So, he thought about Cas. It was almost 1:30, two weeks since he’d heard from him last, and he decided to camp out at the mailbox and wait for whoever came. He had to know if Cas was all right, at least. The guy was his friend, even if maybe Cas didn’t see him as one.

He didn’t have long to wait before seeing his old mailman (Cain, was it?) peddling a sleek bicycle down the sidewalk with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

“Um, hey, sorry to bother you. Cain, is it?” Dean fidgeted, feeling awkward as fuck.

“Yes, that’s me. Can I help you with something?” Huh, okay, Cain seemed like a pretty chill guy. Maybe Dean could actually avoid a panic attack from doing something this wild.

“Uh, yeah. Do you know Castiel? He brought mail on this route for a while? I just haven’t seen him in a while, and I was worried that something happened.” Dean was talking too fast, but he couldn’t help it, okay?

“I know Castiel, and I know he took off a few weeks. Don’t know why though; maybe a vacation or something. I wouldn’t worry about it though, if I were you.”

Oh Dean was gonna worry about it, no doubt about that. Because wow, he was glad Cas was all right and not dead somewhere, but Jesus, what kind of douchebag friend goes on an extended vacation without so much as a goodbye?? So yeah, Dean was going to worry about what he did wrong and why he never could keep friends, and why he was such a fucked up excuse for a human being. Awesome.

~***~

Dean was depressed. Charlie tried cheering him up but to no avail. He was just depressed. He actually took the day off on Monday, because he was such a fucking sissy who couldn’t deal with anything. God, no wonder Cas didn’t care about him. No one should care about him; he was so pathetic.

The doorbell rang. Dean lifted his head from the pillow it had been buried in for the entire first half of the day and decided he probably ought to answer the door, seeing as there was a 98% chance it was Charlie with pie and beer and a chick flick to make him feel better. God, she was too good for him; he didn’t deserve such a good friend.

He pulled the door open and was greeted by the invisible man; wait no, there was a package and a pile of mail on the front step. He sighed and picked it all up, then promptly dropped it all on the floor, shut the door, and collapsed on the couch. He didn’t feel like looking at the mail. He didn’t feel like doing anything except for sleeping. Ugh.

But maybe that package would cheer him up. He rolled his eyes at the tiny optimistic voice in his head and then rolled right off the couch and crawled to the pile of mail. He grabbed package without so much as glancing over the letters, probably all bills, and violently tore it open. Ooh, it was those custom leather-bound journals he ordered off Etsy. One was embroidered with his Hogwarts House logo (Hufflepuff and proud!) and the other matched it but had Charlie’s House (Ravenclaw, more like Raven...dumb! Good one). One of the few things he was ashamed of about being a sissy was doing things like buying matching things for himself and his best friend, or having sleepovers with his best friend, or planning his future wedding with his best friend. ANYway.

Okay, cool, the opening the package plan had worked! Dean was feeling better already. But then he saw it. Underneath the topmost bill was a little blue envelope. Dean’s hand had never moved so fast (yes, never).

Sure enough, it was from Cas. But unlike all the other letters Dean had gotten from him, this one was stamped and had both mailing and return addresses on it. Without stopping to think about what the fuck that could possibly mean, Dean ripped open the letter and read:

Dear Dean,

I am so sorry I haven’t written you in so long. To put it succinctly, my father had a heart attack, and I had to go to to Washington to be with him. The past two weeks have been about family and rekindling our relationships with each other. My father passed away two nights ago, and the funeral was yesterday. I know we never really talk about serious things, but I hope you won’t mind if I tell you this.

Honestly, as heartbroken as I am to see my father pass, I’m grateful that it has brought my family back together. All of us were there with him at the end, all of us were gathered around his bedside as he breathed his last. And he went peacefully, so I’m also grateful for that. I’ll be staying up here for another few days before flying back, and then I’ll be back to work as normal. I put my address that I’m staying at while I’m in Seattle as the return address, but I’ll add my home address too at the bottom of the page; it only feels fair that since I know where you live, you should know where I do too.

Again, I’m sorry if I made you worry at all. I know you might not see me the same way, but you’ve actually become one of my closest friends over the past month. What that says about my personal life? That I’m very awkward and antisocial, that’s what it says.

I hope to talk to you soon,

Castiel

Thank the fucking lord. Dean let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and grabbed his phone.

Dean: Cas is okay!! His dad died but he’ll be back soon

Charlie: Wait, his dad died, but he’ll be back soon? Who is he, god? I mean, Jesus. Whatever, I’m not required to make good religious jokes

Dean: Haha, very funny

Charlie: But yay!! I’m so glad for you!! Maybe now you’ll stop sulking like a little lost puppy

Dean: I make no promises

~***~

As promised, Cas was back by the end of the week, and Dean couldn’t stop grinning when he looked out his window Saturday to see Cas walking up to his mailbox.

He pulled the door open and ran out, unprecedented behavior from the man afraid to make eye contact with girl scouts selling cookies outside the front of the grocery store.

“Cas! It’s good to see you, man!” He went in for a hug, but then it got a little too real, so it ended up being one of those awkward side-hugs that no one really likes but everyone has to deal with.

Cas smiled back widely, and Dean got a little lost in his eyes. Wow, he’d never actually seen Cas up close, and now that he did, he could tell that Cas was actually the most attractive man alive. His ocean blue eyes drew Dean in, and he found himself completely phasing out to the point that Cas had to repeat a question three times before he could respond.

“Sorry, um, what was that?” Was the response. Classic.

“I asked if you were all right; you look a little phased.” No shit, Sherlock.

“Uh yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

“I was a little worried I’d scared you off with my last letter, seeing as how you didn’t write back.” Shit, Dean had forgotten to.

“Fuck, I totally forgot that I had your address. I guess I’m not used to actually properly sending letters, not just putting them in the mailbox.” They shared a quiet laugh before Dean went on, somberly. “I’m really sorry about your dad. My mom passed a few years back, and I know how painful it is.”

Cas smiles sadly. “Yeah, it was rough, but like I said in the letter, it really brought my family together, and I’m sure dad would have been happy to see the impact he had on us.” He paused, and Dean could there was something more rolling around in his mind, so he decided to stay silent and let Cas finish his thought. “It’s funny, he was such an absent father when we were growing up. I know he was different when he and my mom were first married; I think he was a carpenter or something, and he was always at home with Mike and Luce when they were little. But then his business took off, and by the time I was in diapers, he was hardly ever around. Business trips, late nights working, early morning meetings, it never ended. It kind of tore our family apart, bit by bit. First, Gabe ran away when he was 16. He didn’t get in touch with any of us for almost a whole year. Later, he told me he just couldn’t stand to see all the arguing and pain in our family. Then it was Luce, angrily storming off to college and refusing to answer our calls or emails. He loved all of us, his siblings so much, and I think watching dad’s absence affect us younger kids really took a toll on him.”

Suddenly, Cas’ eyes flashed up, and his cheeks grew pink. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I’ve just been standing here, telling you my life’s story. And fuck, I’m on the clock; I really need to run.”

Before Cas could move, Dean grabbed his wrist. “Wait, can you give me your phone number? I put mine in my last letter to you, but I’m guessing you didn’t get that.”

They exchanged numbers as quickly as possible, and Cas ran off towards the next house on his route. Dean grinned as he watched his run away and immediately send him a trial-run text.

Dean: If you gave me a fake number, I’m going to go to your house and shave your cat

Off in the distance (only about 200 feet, to be perfectly honest), Cas stopped and looked down at his phone, and Dean could not hold back a huge laugh.

Castiel: Toothless would kill your sorry ass

~***~

Regina George,

Oh my god, you’re so fetch.

Sorry Cas, I don’t know why, but I really felt like I had to change our theme to Mean Girls. Sue me. (Also, you better have fucking watched Mean Girls, or there will be hell to pay.)

So, my friend Charlie talked me into this, but I guess I kind of agreed with her that I ought to do it. And you can totally say no thanks, not interested, and it’ll be completely fine! But, I was wondering if maybe you’d be interesting in going on a date with me sometime…?

Wow, I am a child. Well, a teenage girl, to be precise. Oh shit, and you keep telling me you’re not a pedophile, so you’re definitely not going to want to go out with me now that you know my true identity. Well this is a fine mess I’ve gotten myself into.

Have you sold that car yet? You should really get on that.

Yours forever,

Amy Poehler

~***~

Mother,

Of course I’ve seen Mean Girls, I’m not that out of the proverbial loop.

And would you please thank your friend Charlie for me? I’ll admit, I’ve wanted to go on a date with you for a quite a while now, but ye ole’ social ineptitude wouldn’t let me ask. Maybe text me when you get this, and we can work out a time/place? Saturday nights are usually best for me, considering I’m always off Sundays.

Please Dean, if you’re a teenage girl, then I am too, and then it’s not pedophilia.

And no, I haven’t sold it yet, because I haven’t decided on a new one to buy yet, because in case you hadn’t noticed, my life has been a little hectic lately. I’ll try and text you the details on the car I’m looking at soon, though.

Fours yorever,

Reginers

~***~

Saturday night is there before Dean can get his shit together. He had frantically texted Charlie minutes after making the date with Cas asking her what he should wear and how he should act and whether he should just run away and never come back. You know, normal stuff.

In the end, he and Cas had decided on meeting an a small burger place near Cas’ place, so Dean knew he shouldn’t wear something too fancy. But he didn’t want to wear just his every minute of every day bluejeans, t-shirt, and flannel combo. So, with some sagely advice from Charlie, he’s decided on his most flattering pair of grey jeans and a button down maroon shirt, freshly ironed. Honestly, not half bad, even by his self-degrading standards. He toyed with the idea of a grey tie with the top two buttons of his collar undone, and decided it was too snazzy for him to refuse.

A 15-minute drive later, he was walking into the restaurant and looking around for Cas. And boy, did he find him. Cas was wearing a tight pair of black jeans, an Egyptian blue button down, and a black waistcoat, and holy fuck, Dean was having another southward situation just at the sight. He repeated the words ‘puss, flesh, old-people skin,’ in his head for half a minute until everything was hunky dory again, then made his way to the bar where Cas was standing.

“You look great, Cas.” Dean grinned when he saw Cas blatantly checking his ass. The good old grey jeans never fail.

“As do you, Dean,” Cas responded, his pupils mildly larger than probably normal.

They made their way over to a small corner booth and waived down a waitress. Adorably enough, they both ordered the same bacon cheeseburger, and in the time it took for their food to arrive, they discussed possible future heart health and how they were both going to die eventually, so it might as well be from eating delicious food.

“Dude, if bacon’s what gets me, I win,” Dean remarked right before taking a huge bite into his burger.

Cas harrumphed in agreement, then moaned around the first bite of his own burger.

Uh oh. Turned out, visual Cas is nothing compared to audible Cas in terms of making Dean’s nether regions all kinds of interested. To put it simply, Dean was sitting at a booth, on a first date, a burger in his mouth, almost completely hard. Awesome.

“Dean, are you okay?” Shit, Cas apparently noticed the panicked look on Dean’s face, and Dean’s face burned red.

“Um, yeah, I’m fine. I, um, just kinda have a little… situation. Downstairs. God this is so embarrassing; I’m soooooo, so sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

Cas was quiet for a second, then burst out with infectious laughter, and Dean couldn’t help but join in. “Oh my god, that’s hilarious. Was it become of the groan I just made or…?”

Dean ran a hand through his hair before responding, “Um, yeah. Fuck. Look, I haven’t gotten

laid in close to three months, so cut me a little slack. And honestly, I’m really sorry. I wanted this

to be a really special first date, but I feel like I kind of ruined it.” Like Dean ruined everything.

“Oh, no no no! Really, I understand much better than you’d think,” Cas assuaged his fear and sorrow with a comforting pat on the back on the hand. “It’s honestly fine. Now, do you need to go to take a trip to the bathroom, or are you all right now?”

Dean informed Cas that apparently humiliation was not one of his kinks, and the situation had resolved itself, and they were able to go on with their dinner like it had never happened.

But you know, it did happen, and Dean hadn’t had sex in months, and Cas was the hottest date Dean had ever had. SO yeah. Things happen.

~***~

After an amazing evening of burgers, pie, beer, and literal hours of conversation, they decided it was definitely time for them to part ways. Cas had walked to the restaurant, so Dean offered to drop him off on his way home, and Cas gratefully accepted.

The car ride was normal, if slightly tense. They were both slightly buzzed and totally attracted to each other, after all. But it was chill.

Dean pulled up to Cas’ home, a cozy-looking apartment complex, and parked his car in one of the visitor spots. They both climbed out and walked together up to Cas’ door.

“So, I had an awesome time tonight,” Dean half-mumbled, really trying his best to appear like he wasn’t desperate to go out with Cas again as soon as possible. “You think you might want to do this again sometime? I mean, really, I totally get it if like I’m not your type or you’re just not into me or you think I’m too--”

Cas slammed their faces (particularly their lips) together, effectively cutting off Dean’s self-abusive train of thought and filling his mind with only the pure bliss of Cas’ warm mouth on his, their tongues fighting for dominance. Cas’ mouth tasted amazing, like apple pie and happiness. Dean hungrily chased the flavour, and he couldn’t get enough. They broke for air for just a minute before Cas wheeled Dean around and up against his apartment door, weaving one hand into his hair and grabbing Dean’s own hand with the other, pinning it up against the door above his head.

Dean had never felt less in control, and it was amazing. He could feel the strength in Cas’ body shoved up against his own. He felt vulnerable, but for once in his life, he was okay with that vulnerability.

Cas moved his mouth down from Dean’s mouth to his neck, peppering the skin with hot, wet kisses. He settled on one spot, the meaty place between Dean’s neck and right shoulder and assaulted it with licks, kisses, nibbles, and sucks. He was driving Dean crazy, and Dean honestly couldn’t stop himself from moaning out, “Uhhhh, Cas…”

Maybe it was something about how he broke the silence, but Cas suddenly stilled and looked up at Dean, alarm filling his eyes. “Oh my god, Dean, I’m sorry. I’ve never done this before; I don’t know what came over me.” He stepped back from Dean and rubbed his hands over his face.

“What? Why’d you stop?” Dean replied, feeling suddenly abandoned.

Cas locked eyes with Dean and said very seriously, “I have no idea what I’m doing, Dean. I’ve never had sex; hell, I’ve never been in a relationship that lasted longer than a week. And you’re this amazing, attractive man who has had so much sex and knows all about it, and I’m just going to embarrass myself and it’ll be terrible and--”

This time, Dean satisfies the cliche, cutting off Cas’ river of doubts with a kiss into which he poured all the words he wanted to say but didn’t know how: that Cas made him feel safe and comfortable and like he could be himself and still feel appreciated and cared for and special and important.

Cas seemed to get the message, and he quickly took control once again, holding Dean tight in his arms and kissing him with more passion than is in an entire episode of Casa Erotica.

Dean had been hard for a while now, and as Cas clung to him, he could feel that Cas was in about the same spot as he was. But shit, if Cas was a virgin, that would put a lot of weight on Dean’s shoulders, right? He wanted to make it perfect for Cas, because that’s what Cas deserved.

But apparently, Cas had a completely different idea. He pulled away from Dean, and with his pupils completely blown wide and dark, moved his mouth to Dean’s ear and whispered, “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Huh, well, Dean realized at that moment he was completely, 100%, no doubt about it, a bottom. And apparently, Cas’ self-confidence boosted itself threefold when he was horny, so yeah. That was pretty sweet.

Cas fumbled with his apartment keys and opened the front door before pushing Dean inside and slamming the door behind them. He kiss-walked (that thing where people are joined at the mouth but still manage to move around, that’s honestly kind of impressive if you think about it) Dean to what Dean assumed could only be his bedroom and shoved him onto the bed before climbing on top of waist and resuming kissing him like a man dying of dehydration and Dean’s mouth was a fucking water fountain.

Without breaking their lip lock, Cas scrambled to get Dean’s tie off, and Dean did his best to help with the clothing removal process, but his efforts were mostly futile.

Finally, after a pathetically long and unromantic struggle, they were both naked, and Dean was basically drooling at the sight of Cas’ dick. Like, holy hell, it’s not like Dean himself was small, but Jesus, he was embarrassed of his own length in the presence of Cas’ massiveness.

Cas grinned with a hungry look in his eye as he took Dean in, and Dean felt suddenly self conscious as Cas scanned him so carefully.

Cas noticed the change in Dean’s demeanor and guessed the source quickly. “Dean, you are so beautiful,” his husky voice reassured before leaning in and capturing Dean’s lips once again, this time with a contrastingly gentle and loving kiss, and for once in his life, Dean let himself actually believe that about himself.

The kiss soon got more heated, and Cas’ hands began exploring Dean’s body, starting in his hair, traveling down his chest, over his hips, and down his thighs. Dean moaned and realized that, much to his embarrassment, he was actually close.

Fortunately, Cas seemed to sense he should advance things, and he trailed his hands back up to Dean’s throbbing cock. Dean let out a punched groan at the first touch to his hot member, squeezed his eyes shut tight, and clenched his fists behind Cas’ back. “So good, Cas…”

Cas’ hand left his cock for a minute, and Dean heard the telltale sounds of someone spitting before the hand returned, slick and tight. Just a couple tugs and Dean was coming with a shout. “Oh, Cas, oh fuck, Cas!”

He had never come so quickly in his entire life, but Dean couldn’t even find it in himself to be ashamed, especially as he heard Cas grunting as he followed directly behind him.

“Cas, that was…”

A sudden worried look fell over Cas’ face. “Was it bad? I’m sorry, I know we both came really fast.”

Dean laughed and tried his best kiss the pouting look off of Cas. “No, it was amazing, Cas. Jesus, that was the most vanilla shit I’ve ever done, but it was perfect.” Dean sighed and steeled himself before continuing. “And actually, I think the reason it was perfect was because, well, it was with you, Cas.”

~***~

“Honeybee, I’m home!” Dean stripped off his big winter coat and hung it on the hook by the front door.

“I’m in the kitchen, Dean!” Dean stalked through the house and up behind his husband, snaking his arms around the other man’s broad chest and leaning over his shoulder to give him a peck on the cheek.

“How was work today?” Dean asked, glancing around the kitchen and noticing with a grin what looked suspiciously like the mess left after someone has baked an apple pie.

“Work was lovely, thank you. Of course, that was mostly because of the letter I got from my favorite stop on my favorite route.” Cas grinned and spun around to give Dean a proper kiss.

“I’m your favorite?!” Dean grinned and pulled back before Cas could kiss him

Cas rolled his eyes, “No, I’m talking about our neighbor, Mrs. Tran.”

“I love you too, babe.” Dean finally let himself be pulled into his husband’s eager arms and smiled into the kiss. Fate was kind of awesome.

#destiel #fanfiction #destiel fandom #destiel fluff #supernatural #ao3 #one shot #supernatural fic #destiel fic #fanfic

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closetofanxiety · 7 years ago

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Show Review: Ring of Honor/NJPW “War of the Worlds” Night One

Lowell, Massachusetts: The Flowering City! Kerouac Town! Home to the second-largest population of Cambodians in the United States, and more abandoned textile mills than you can shake a stick at!

Let’s see how this momentous clash of companies shook out:

What: Ring of Honor/NJPW “War of the Worlds” Tour, Night One

Where: Memorial Auditorium, Lowell, Massachusetts

When: Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Who: I’ve seen crowd counts that put attendance between 1,200 and 1,500, and that sounds right to me. If it wasn’t a sellout, it was close. The place was packed to the rafters, and fully two-thirds of the people in attendance were wearing Bullet Club t-shirts. I went there after visiting multiple notable graves (one haunted), an abandoned mill turned into a kind of weirdo shopping mall, an abandoned mill turned into a national historic site, and a park named after Jack Kerouac where drunks were sleeping on the ground at 4 p.m., which is pretty appropriate when you consider that Kerouac drank himself to death.

Dark Match: Brad Hollister and Justin “Hammer” Tunis vs. The Dawgs

Hollister and Tunis are locals; I have seen them many times. Nice to see them getting a dark match. The Dawgs are new to me. I guess it’s Rhett Titus and Will Ferrara. Did you ever collect baseball cards? You know how the cards for all the bench players were grouped under the pejorative rubric “commons,” as in, “That pack of cards I bought was a bust, nothing but commons”? I kind of thing of Rhett Titus as a good example of that in wrestling. Not bad, not sensational, does the job he needs to do, but doesn’t really linger in the memory. This was a totally conventional tag team wrestling match. The crowd stirred briefly, after Hollister delivered a picture-perfect suplex. The Dawgs won. The cosmic wheel turns on.

Rating: Two Kerouacs.

The Briscoe Brothers vs. Jushin Thunder Liger and Flip Gordon

I haven’t been following ROH, but I guess the Briscoes are heels right now? They were lustily booed. Jay looked fantastic with his hair all matted and long and some kind of necklace of primitive fetishes around his neck. He looked like a chiseled, angry Dr. John who instead of learning to play the piano started a voodoo-based crime syndicate. I forget how much I like the Briscoes, but they are among my favorites. Holy cow, Flip Gordon is over with this crowd. Huge pop and “Flip! Flip! Flip!” chants. Liger, obviously, also gets a huge ovation. This match is entirely about Flip befuddling the enraged Briscoe cavemen with his arsenal of acrobatic dodges and counters. Liger comes in as a hot tag, but doesn’t really do anything spectacular. He doesn’t have to, my God, he’s Jushin Liger. He’s earned his elder statesman tag team apron-dweller spot. This match was a lot of fun. Not a sprint, but a condensed version of classic tag team wrestling, with some distinctive flourishes. The Briscoes wrestled like heels, denying the crowd anything spectacular (their post-tag tandem offense basically consisted of Mark holding Flip while Jay kicked him repeatedly) until the finish. I don’t know how to describe it, but it looked to be like a Razor’s Edge off the top into a cutter. It was nuts. Flip took the pin. I should note here that I had a terrible seat and couldn’t see three quarters of the ring, so I stood up against the back wall for most of the night.

Rating: Three and a half Kerouacs.

Deonna Purrazzo and Skylar vs Tennille Dashwood and Sumie Sakai

I want you to notice something here, something that would prove to be the theme of the evening: tag team wrestling. Our third match, and third tag team match, was a Women of Honor showcase for four babyfaces, which is always something of a heat vacuum. The crowd likes all these women. It was Skylar’s ROH debut; about two years ago, I was there when she had her first-ever wrestling match. It’s crazy to think how much progress she’s made. She’s still a little green, though, and the other three are obviously a category above her at the moment. Not much of a story here beyond Deonna occasionally walking up to the brink of being a heel, although I don’t know if that’s deliberate or if that’s just part of our bleak, nihilistic world now. The jury’s still out on whether Tennille is another example of WWE totally missing the boat on someone; she’s good in the ring, she has undeniable charisma, but she hasn’t developed a character beyond Person Who Wrestles And Occasionally Shouts “It’s All About Me.” When you think about it, this was kind of her problem in the WWE. She pins Skylar. After the match, Kelly Klein runs out to beat on Purrazzo and the two of them have a pull-apart. I noticed that Northeast Wrestling tag team stalwarts Adrenaline Rush were among the black-shirted security guards. Lots of familiar faces tonight!

Rating: Two and a half Kerouacs.

At this point, Dalton Castle comes out. He’s billed for a title defense against Matt Taven. There’s a brief “Rusev Day” chant for some reason, which, smdh. A segment of this crowd also chanted “You can’t wrestle” at Brandi Rhodes when she walked out before the show. I’m not sure how to characterize the ROH audience. There are too many of them to just be the indie wrestling diehards, but there are no casual fans among them either. It’s a weird group.

Anyway, Castle cuts a meandering promo saying that he’s injured and can’t wrestle, although he’s not vacating the title. Matt Taven’s mom stands up and boos the shit out of him at this point, and good for her. Castle says he’s going to treat us to brunch instead. It’s past 8 p.m., but that’s probably still brunchtime in parts of Brooklyn. The Boys come out and throw croissants to the crowd. You call this brunch? Not even a damn mimosa?

The Kingdom vs. Coast to Coast

Matt Taven comes out with fellow Kingdomites TK O’Ryan and Vinny Marseglia and cuts a promo calling Dalton Castle “a babyback bitch.” Taven’s grandfather, a dignified elder gentleman with a walker and an oxygen tank, is at ringside. I wonder what he thinks of hearing his grandson use that language. Maybe he taught it to Taven. Maybe he thought, “I’ve never been more proud. Especially because Dalton Castle is truly a babyback bitch.”

Has any wrestling faction had a stranger evolution than The Kingdom? Remember when it was Matt Hardy, Adam Cole, Michael Bennett, and Maria Kanellis? And then Hardy left, and Taven joined, and they would do the Four Horsemen hand gesture? And now it’s Taven and Taven’s Friends? Don’t get me wrong, I like TK O’Ryan and Vinny Marseglia fine, it’s just they’re not exactly Matt Hardy and Adam Cole.

But they are here tonight, and they are wrestling, and so far we are 4 for 4 on tag team matches. I don’t know who Coast to Coast are. They are, like Rhett Titus, the wrestling equivalent of commons, at least to me. This match is fine. There are some shenanigans when Horror Man Marseglia pulls Coast to Coast and the referee under the ring and some red balloons come out, a la “It.” But then the guys just get out and run back into the ring. Commit to this gimmick, ROH: have them be bloody, mangled corpses (I mean, kayfabe-wise).

The Kingdom lose this match due to interference from SoCal Uncensored, and so we have a six-man tag match later tonight, because of course we do.

Rating: Two Kerouacs.

Bully Ray vs. Cheeseburger

BULLY RAY IS BACK IN ACTION IN LOWELL! That’s WWE Hall of Famer Bully Ray to you, pal. His entrance video keeps flashing the words “Hell’s Kitchen,” but he grew up in Queens. Why not claim Queens, Bully Ray? Hell’s Kitchen these days is not exactly a terrifying place; it’s full of Wall Street finance industry dickheads. It’s not even Hell’s Kitchen anymore, they call it “Clinton” now. O for the days when the Irish mob would shoot out your kneecaps on West 44th Street!

This is a squash, with Bully Ray delivering an uncontested succession of power bombs to Cheeseburger, much to the displeasure of the crowd. Bully Ray leaves the ring to glare menacingly at some fans - THAT’S HOW THEY DO IT IN HELL’S KITCHEN, ER, CLINTON - and is counted out. Cheeseburger wins! Unfortunately, this means more power bombs.

Although I didn’t know it at the time, this would be the only singles match of the night.

Rating: N/A

Roppongi 3K vs. Marty Scurll, Hangman Page, and Cody Rhodes

Ring of Honor is really hot right now, maybe the hottest it’s ever been. They just had their largest show ever in New Orleans, and they’re comfortably drawing 1,000+ houses every night. It feels weird, though, like it’s borrowed glamour. It’s all from the Bullet Club/New Japan stuff, and although I realize there’s overlap, it doesn’t feel like a lot of the excitement is Ring of Honor excitement. The ROH stalwarts, guys like the Briscoes and Jay Lethal, feel like afterthoughts right now, as angles are booked around plot twists in “Being the Elite” and buildings are full of fans in New Japan shirts.

Still, the fervor is undeniable, and the roof practically lifts off the place for the Bullet Club Threesome, although there is definitely a smattering of “You suck!” judgments hurled at Cody.

This is basically like an NBA All-Star Game; no one is playing defense, no one is really taking it seriously, and it’s a lot of fun to watch. It doesn’t mean anything and no one is going to be talking about this match in 10 years or 5 years or even two weeks, but at the moment, for the day that’s in it, it’s fine. Everyone does his thing, Roppongi 3K get a lot of offense in, “Being the Elite” plotlines are advanced when Marty accidentally kicks that guy in the bear costume and gets berated by Cody.

Bullet Club win, because that’s what the crowd came to see. Too sweet! Woop woop! Too sweet! Woop woop!

Incidentally, I’m reading the book “The People Who Eat Darkness,” which centers on the disappearance of a woman who was a nightclub host in Roppongi, so suddenly Rocky Romero’s team name seems sinister to me.

Rating: Three Kerouacs.

INTERMISSION

Before the show, there was a meet and greet session. We waited in a big long line inside the venue and people got really excited when first Naito, and then the Bullet Club, walked by to get to their tables. Lots of too-sweeting. Less excitement for Daniels and Kazarian, who weren’t part of the official meet and greet but who brought their own table to sell things. That’s how you do business, folks. Always bring your own table to shows, so you don’t have to put up with ROH’s red tape.

In order to get your picture taken, you had to buy a ticket, like when you go to a carnival or fair or something, and then present that ticket to the wrestler, who I guess would hand them all in at the end of the night in exchange for money. I was near the front of the line, so I bought a ticket for Naito. It worked out really well. I assumed the line for his table would be way too long, but because of Sinclair Broadcasting’s ruthless bureaucratic efficiency, I got to meet Mr. Tranquilo.

Also, I want to doff my cap to whoever programs the music to play at ROH events. Cock Sparrer’s “Because You’re Young” sounds phenomenal over a real PA system, and how often do you hear Cock Sparrer songs in public?

EVIL, SANADA, and Naito vs. Silas Young, the Beer City Bruiser, and Brian Milonas

Crowd goes nuts for Los Ingobernables de Japon, of course. Naito gets a crazy ovation and sustained chant of “NAITO! NAITO! NAITO!” That’s how you can tell an ROH crowd isn’t just indie diehards; unlike indie crowds, ROH crowds can keep a chant going. I always want to call Silas Young either Paul Silas or Silas Marner. The Beer City Bruiser is like a real-life version of parody Wrestling Twitter account Jumpin Jim Grabowski, and Milonas is a New England guy. Lots of heat on Milonas, both from people who have seen him at shows before (the indie diehards) and people who scream at him for being fat (the ROH fans proper).

This has the same NBA All Star vibe as the previous match, except Silas, Bruiser, and Milonas are not exactly all stars. Perfectly fine, perfectly good mid carders, but there’s a lot of star power on the other side of the ring. Milonas stops Naito from doing the Tranquilo pose and gets maybe the loudest heel reaction of the night. This match is what it is. It’s fun to see the NJPW guys, even doing like 20 percent of their normal repertoire. LIJ win, naturally.

Rating: Two and a half Kerouacs.

Jay Lethal vs. Jay White vs. Chuck Taylor

Taylor was a last-minute addition to the card and gets a crazily enthusiastic welcome. They avoid the usual trap of triple threat matches - one guy takes a powder outside the ring while a standard one-on-one happens - by essentially making this a handicap match, with Taylor and Knife Pervert Jay White teaming up against Lethal. This was my favorite match of the night. It told a reasonable story, the wrestlers are all compelling and played to their strengths (Lethal as heroic babyface, Taylor as chaotic neutral comedian, White as creepy weirdo), and there was decent action all around. Instead of kicking out of each other’s finishers, they would simply tease the finish, have the crowd react, and then have the intended victim escape at the last second. Very effective. Jay Lethal hits Lethal Injection on Knife Pervert and is about to win when Taylor swoops in with an inside cradle to pick up the win. Genuine surprise and a huge pop from the crowd.

Rating: Three and a half Kerouacs.

ROH Six Man Tag Team Championship Match: SoCal Uncensored (c) vs. The Kingdom

Having already seen TK O’Ryan and Vinny Marseglia wrestle a full match, I was not jazzed for this bout. Christopher Daniels and Frankie Kazarian are freaks of nature, though, and always find a way to deliver. Daniels in particular still manages to wrestle the way he did 10 or even 15 years ago, which is absolutely insane when you think about it. A lot of decent stuff here, although I admit I was not in the right mood for it. The Kingdom win in a mild upset and we have new six-man tag team champions. Taven celebrates at ringside with his grandfather, with nary a babyback bitch in sight.

Rating: Three Kerouacs

The Young Bucks vs. Hiromu Takahashi and BUSHI

The first time I saw the Young Bucks in person was a little over three years ago. They seemed absurdly popular then, and it’s amazing to think how much bigger they’ve gotten since. At this point, it sort of doesn’t matter what they do, the spectacle is the whole point of the event, so credit to them for still working hard to put together a wrestling match. This is very much NBA All Star territory, but more like one of those games where one absurdly competitive weirdo like Kobe Bryant decides he’s going to play really hard, and is countered by a similarly competitive weirdo on the opposite. This seesawed between “hey we’re havin’ a blast here” and “can you top this, you babyback bitch.” Lots of crazy stuff happening here, some near falls that actually felt like near falls, and the Bucks winning with the Meltzer Driver, sending the Bullet Club shirted masses home happy.

Rating: Three and a half Kerouacs

#show reviews #Ring of Honor #ROH #makin' towns #NJPW

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seventven · 8 years ago

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Tony being your sugar daddy + a “boobs guy” would include:

pairing: tony x reader

warnings: oh no hide your children this is about women willingly using their bodies and benefitting from it

a/n: hello i’m back after 4 months having graduated high school and being a bigger tony slut than ever before

also this is the longest “would include” i have ever written but i’ve been getting requests for this for months and it took me forever to get around to writing so enjoy

i am a firm believer in that every person in this world is either an ass or a boobs person

and anthony stark is the latter

personally i am an advocate for women embracing their sexuality and being proud of their bodies and showing them off in whatever way they like

so like imagine

y/n is tony’s assistant

kinda like that whole situation with natasha in iron man 2

except ya know y/n is an actual assistant lmao

and she’d be v good at her job and within months she’d basically be running stark industries

lets pretend pepper doesn’t exist ok im still salty about her

and every couple of days or whatever tony would pop into the office and do a bit of paper work

like signing things or whatever i dont know what CEOs do

and he’s sitting behind the desk in his office, a bunch of papers in front of him

and he’s bored out of his mind bc this stuff is the woRST

and suddenly there’s a knock on the door

and y/n cautiously peaks her head out from behind the door to make sure she isn’t interrupting him

and when tony motions for her to come inside she steps in and shuts the door behind her

and she’s wearing a classic little black dress that reaches below her knees but which shows off a lot fair amount of her cleavage

and tony doesn’t notice at first

not until she’s standing opposite him

“i’ve more things for you to sign,” she’d say and bend over his desk to place the paper work in front of him

and that’s when tony’s eyes would register the sight in front of him

because from where he is sitting he gets the perfect view of her chest

unfortunately, this only lasts about two seconds before she straightens up, smiles at him and heads for the exit

and tony sorta just sits in his chair and stares at the door through which she had left

because holy fuck

so then after that tony would start calling her down to his office more often than necessary

and though this may seem sexist, the way he gawks at her and whatnot

it’s not like y/n doesn’t know what’s going on

and it’s not like she isn’t enjoying it

because soon enough she’d start wearing tops and dresses with even lower necklines

and bras that made her plump flesh want to explode out of her clothing

and both of them would love it

so tony would start making excuses in order to call her down

“i need you to tell me what you think of this new project”

“i need you to explain to me what this document is about”

“i need you to help me find a suitable date for this meeting”

but it wouldn’t just be tony

y/n would quickly start to find ways to make her way down to his office

“sorry for interrupting but have you signed the...”

“don’t mean to take up your time but do you know where that file went...”

and it would literally be never ending

and i feel like their relationship would start with one of them just not being to take any more of this god damn tension

and they’d probably fuck on his desk one time when y/n came down to ask if he had a pen on something equally stupid

and while he’s fucking her on the desk he’d probably be absolutely captivated by the view of her tits bouncing up and down

and he’d be so handsy with them

and he’d probably cover them with bite marks and hickeys

and it would be the hottest thing tbh

and then after that incident they’d get a whole lot more flirty at work

because now they both know they are into each other

and i dig the idea of tony opening up his email one morning when he gets to the office

and it’s from her

and he doesn’t think much about it, expecting it to be more boring paper work

but it’s actually a v explicit picture she had taken of herself the night before and it gives him a perfect view of her chest

and the caption is something that makes the blood rush to tony’s crotch in an instant

and he’s still staring at the picture ten minutes later when y/n and another employee walk into his office

and tony quickly logs out of his email

and the other employee gets him to sign something

and as they are leaving y/n turns back around and sends tony a cheeky wink

and within twenty minutes he is calling her down to his office and fucking her over the table again

and for a couple of months their relationship would consist of nothing other than intense sex every once in a while

of course, with the occasional going out for lunch together and talking in the office

and tony would notice that she’s a fan of victoria’s secret

so then y/n’s birthday would roll around

and the guy would go completely over the top

like imagine y/n getting to the office on her birthday morning

and no one else is there bc she had arrived early as usual

and she sets her stuff down and notices a square black box sitting on her desk

and it has a huge silk bow and looks really fucking expensive

so she looks around the office, wondering if it’s from one of her coworkers but there’s no one there

so she lifts the top of the box

and inside, sitting on a silk cushion is a victoria’s secret fantasy bra

and let me remind you that those things cost like at least a million dollars

but tony has the money

and if he has the money who’s gonna stop him

and y/n honestly cannot believe her eyes as they examine the bra

and she’s shocked by the amount of diamonds and other precious gems covering the surface

then, she notices a black card tucked into the space between the cushion and the wall of the box

and on it is a hand written note from tony

asking her to wear the bra tonight and be ready to be picked up at seven and telling her to take the day off

and as she’s making her way towards the exit of the building

the box clutched in her hands so tightly her knuckles are turning white

she runs into one of tony’s personal drivers who tells her he has been ordered to escort her to several places

and at first y/n is hesitant bc what the hell

the most she was hoping for that day was maybe a box of chocolates from one of her friends and a gift card to sephora

but here she was, clutching a two million dollar bra in her hands and being led to a sleek black vehicle by one of tony’s drivers

and the car would take her to a bunch of different places all of which would have already been paid for and ready for her arrival

because tony wanted to spoil her rotten on her birthday

the day would consist of her being driven to a spa, nail studios, and extravagant shops that mr tony stark had already paid hundreds and hundreds of dollars just for making her experience there pleasant

and by the end of the day y/n would be driven home and given some time to get ready for wherever tony was bringing her to

and obviously as asked she’d carefully put on the fantasy bra and one of the outfits she had purchased over it

and then the driver would return at exactly seven o’clock and bring her to the fucking port or something equally weird

and tony would just be chilling next to his own private yacht

and he’d take her hand and lead her onto it

and they’d probably be served dinner by some fancy ass chef he had hired just for this occasion

and y/n would be very confused by the whole day but also very thankful and by the end of dinner she’d mention the bra

bc she’d honestly feel guilty having received such an expensive present from him

but tony would just chuckle and stand up

and he’d bring his chair around the table and sit down next to her

and he’d probably lean in and kiss her bare shoulder

and then he’d hook his finger around the strap off her dress

and pull it down to reveal just a tiny bit of the bra she was wearing

and he’d whisper something like:

“it’s all yours. this, and anything else you might want. just say the word”

and idk about you but i’d be shuddering and squeezing my thighs together

bc holy shit sugar daddy tony makes me wanna sin

and they’d probably have sex again

this time in one of the luxurious bedrooms on the yacht

and in the morning tony would be missing from bed

but she’d be served breakfast in bed by one of the yacht keeping people i have no clue what they’re called

and after breakfast she’d get out of bed and find another three bags or so from victoria’s secret and chanel waiting for her on the chaise lounge

and she’d get dressed and go exploring

and find tony on the deck and they’d spend a lot of time drinking champagne and having sex

and then the trip would be over and she’d return home and go back to her life in the office

but every week she’d find different packages from tony

whether it was prada, chanel, or versace, tony would have more expensive gifts delivered to her apartment every couple of days

and with the gifts came along the great sex and getting the opportunity to attend different fancy functions and being tony’s “arm candy”

not that she’d mind

bc as she’d get used to the gifts, the vacations and the luxurious lifestyle

she’d also become a whole lot more comfortable with this sugar daddy slash sugar baby relationship

she’d be more than willing to get called various pet names during sex

and tony would live for the excitement on her face every time she’d open a new gift from him

and although the other female employees at stark industries would begin to despise her for the close relationship she had with their boss

neither y/n nor tony would be willing to end the arrangement

and then over time their feelings might become romantic

but until that time they’d both indulge in the non romantic relations they had

but once they’d start developing feelings for each other i feel like the transition from being in a sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship to an actual relationship would be very natural for them

firstly y/n would start staying the night at his place after sex instead of going home

in the office he’d start stealing innocent kisses when they’d pass each other in the hallway

and they’d start talking about serious aspects of their lives and just understand each other really well

and even after they’d officially get together, tony would still continue to spoil her

and i feel like at some point in the relationship tony would start to have doubts

bc lets be serious tony stark is too damn hard on himself

and because y/n is a lot younger than him he’d start to get a little paranoid

maybe it would begin with him noticing the way guys her age would stare at her longingly

or how the press didn’t think their relationship would last due to the age difference

but the feelings they’d have for each other would be as real as they get

and y/n would be more than willing to prove to tony how much she loves him

and at the end of the day it wouldn’t matter what way guys looked at her

or what the press had to say

or what the other employees at stark industries thought

the only thing that mattered was the fact that among the gifts and sparkly bags, the exotic vacations and expensive champagne, both of them found something they didn’t even realise they were searching for

#seventven writes #tony stark #tony #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark smut #tony stark drabble #tony stark fluff #tony stark fic #sugar daddy tony #sugar daddy tony stark #tony stark sugar daddy #marvel imagine #marvel smut #marvel fic #marvel drabble #avengers imagine #avengers smut #avengers drabble

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rockofeye · 7 years ago

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Blessed are the least of us.

As previously mentioned, I started a new job recently. It was a much awaited, much prayed for opportunity that my spirits delivered to me, and it was exactly what I have needed and been looking for. It is a great resume builder and a career maker in it’s own way, and it is absolutely the hardest job I have ever had to date.

I joke that, in my field, I am basically a managerial repo man. Things not going as they should? Is shit REAL fucked up? Time to hire Bonkira, who can take your professional pile of shit and make it into something functional! In six months, you will have a brand new shiny program that works, one way or another!

It didn’t really surprise me that I got hired into an absolute disaster, it was just impressive as to how much of a disaster it actually was/is. My first day at one of my sites, a client almost died in the bathroom and I met them officially when they woke up while I was doing CPR on them. A couple days later, a client threatened to beat the shit out of me if he saw me again, and necessitated three different police escorts off the property. I reviewed files and found progress notes written on the back of envelopes and clients who had not seen a case manager in six months or more. The stance of my boss has been ‘I know it’s a disaster. Do whatever you think it will take to fix it. Tell me what you need’.

So I have.

Once my clients realized I was there, they started trickling in to see me. My first intake was a newly out trans person who was afraid they would not be welcome. A fiftysomething ex-con wandered in and wanted to talk, and I taught them a new word (’genderqueer’), which they loved and immediately defined themselves as. A young gay person came in and cried because their father hung up the phone on them, again, when they called to see if they could come home for Christmas. Through tears, they said they liked the case manager onsite just fine, but ‘there’s just some things you can’t say to a straight man’.

My spirits bring me to where I am needed. When the third LGBTQ client showed up in my office in one day, I started praying: I don’t know what you all have in mind for me here, but I know they need me. Help me do it right.

This past Monday, Gede met me in my office: I arrived and all I could feel was the Dead Man. I sat down to go through a weekend’s worth of email and messages, and he was at my elbow. Where’s my stuff? You need to get me some stuff for here. At least a prayer card. Get a prayer card NOW.

Together, with me grumbling that I had shit to do, we made a makeshift prayer card: a fresh-from-the-internet saint picture with a favorite prayer for the Dead man written on the back taped to the side of my monitor.

Good, he said, and let me be.

That afternoon, I received a transfer of a client from the second site I manage: an elderly man with an end-stage terminal illness. He walked in with death on his shoulder and, once settled into his room, I cut a side eye to Gede: He can’t die just yet, he just got here AND IT IS ONLY MY SECOND WEEK.

He didn’t die that day (and hasn’t yet), but the Dead Man so forcefully close made me nervous....and he didn’t fail me. The next day, I walked in to find out that another client has passed away while Gede was ensconced in my office. He stares at me from my computer habit and reminds me why I am where I am.

The spirits send me to their people, every time. They tell me, on no uncertain terms, that my clients--the homeless, the substance using, the mentally ill, the formerly incarcerated--are their people, and I am to take care of them to the best of my ability.

It is hard work, but it is not a hard job. How can I not care for and love those I see the spark of my spirits inside? How could I possibly turn away those that are held up by my husbands and my spirits as holy in their humanity and their need? What else is a priest for if not to serve the people?

That’s the trick--that is what being a priest is. We are created to bring the spirits to the parts of the world and to the people who need them most. That is all of it, long and short. That’s the gig, and it doesn’t require magic or stuff or All The Knowledge. It requires the ability to show up and engage the heart and do the damn work, even when it sucks or is scary or is done with no acknowledgement or thanks. It doesn’t rely on what we think the tools of a priest out in the world are, and, in a lot of ways, it does not center on us--we are the tool and the spirits are the force behind us. It is little and small, and that can be hard to swallow.

The more I know my spirits, the easier everything is to swallow, honestly. I am grateful for the small things. I am grateful for being a well-honed tool in this particular area, and I am happy they feel that they have a tool they can put to use. I know that these opportunities for service to my spirits are also opportunities to go deeper into my relationships with them. There’s that whole idea of coming to know God while in the foxhole, and my office has been pretty foxhole-like lately.

In many ways, this job is different. Mostly, it is different because I am different--I am not nearly the same person I was pre-kanzo, when I was last hired to work in an environment that resembled my current setting. My patience is different, and how I see my clients is different. It is not hard to find the spirits within them and to see the spark of the divine in their souls. They are a blessing, in all of their brokenness, as the spirits have been a blessing to me in all of my own brokenness.

All of this while, in the vodou world, we enter the hottest part of the year. The divine stands ready to be made flesh, an intensely and undeniably Petwo act, and epiphany is coming--the realization that this manifestation is in fact divine. It is a powerful, powerful thing that happens over and over in the work of vodou; our spirits arrive and we recognize that they are of Ginen. They arrive for us because we need them, to serve as much as they are served. Those of us who have gone under the water and risen from Ginen in turn are expected to emulate that sacred service as best as we can, because we cannot have a gift without seeking to give it to others.

And here we are. I will bathe soon and send away the gunk from the last year so that I may welcome the bright new year with luck and prosperity. I will make soup and give my spirits soup and eat some soup myself. There will be prayers--always prayers--and, when I settle into my new home in the next couple weeks, I will bless my home with the heat and light of this time of year, that it may carry me through when times get dark.

Blessed are the least of us, who show us who we are in the places no one sees.

#vodou #haitian vodou #voodoo #christmas #priest things

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stargleeksil-blog · 7 years ago

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Criminal Minds s01e22 The Fisher King Part 1 season 1 finale review

Episode 22 – The Fisher King Part 1

Okay, so we’re at the finale of season 1! Wow, that was quick! (At least for me) And I can honestly say I am beyond pumped for the next 11. I have no idea what Fisher King means except for the pretty bird that is named that, but I really have no fucking clue what goes on here.

Let’s see what happens.

Ok, that house is creepy. Just saying.

A mangled male hand running over a sleeping girl’s body, not creepy at all … I think … I mean, why can’t they show us who it is?

Frack, he has a knife.

Why did they cut automatically to the BAU? That is some serious teasing.

Morgan is taking Elle to a resort? No! He should be taking Penelope! No! someone boink this guy over the head.

“Trust me when I tell you it is off the hook. Hot sunny days, cool breezes at night, never-ending tropical drinks with the little umbrellas, and nothing but young, beautiful adults looking to make vacation memories.” Ooh, he should run ads for resorts, cuz mama I am hooked!

Why are you calling him pretty boy? I mean, he is pretty, but why are you teasing Spencer like that baby? Not nice.

Wow. Reid was oddly cryptic about going home. Is something not right? I’m intrigued.

Yay! Aaron is going home, and he is happy about chores? Oh no.

Hahahahahahaha oh my god Gideon just made my entire day and I’m only 02:02 minutes into the show. He’s going to an abandoned cabin in the woods and wants them to not call him. And he’s serious about! He said it twice!

Wow. I love the carvings! Both metal and wood are so elaborate, I’m so impressed.

Okay, now we’re going into medieval paintings that literally freak me out. What?

And why does that freak have pictures of my superheroes?

Why is he whispering? He freaks me out. Ugh.

Oh my god, why is he tying that girl to the bed? Ugh.

Whoa. She just had a major freakout.

Oh my god this is gonna be epic!!!!! And possibly the longest review of the season, guys. Beware.

And Kirsten still isn’t a regular? What the fuck is wrong with these people?

Elbert Hubbard: “No man needs a vacation so much as the man who has just had one.” WORD!!! I had a few days off during Rosh Hashana and when I came back to work I was so disoriented I was like, dude, I need a vacation.

And oh my god, the resort Derek told Elle about is in Jamaica? Wow. He has some good friends, man.

God that water is gorgeous. No wonder the Caribbean is such a touristy spot. I mean, I prefer dirty cities with winds and snows and rain, but I get it.

And oh my god, those are some fresh young hotties. I’m talking of course about Elle and Derek in bathing suits. Holy shit. That is the hottest sight ever.

I’m usually not one for tattoos, but oh my god Shemar’s body is a monument of hotness. Fuck. I want to lick those abs so much.

Wait. Hold the presses. And I can’t believe I’m saying this because I am currently watching scenes of Shemar shirtless and I am the last woman to ever complain about that, but is Jane fucking Lynch in this episode? As what exactly? Yay!!! I’m happy.

Now let’s go back to drooling over Shemar’s flawless delicious succulent chocolate planes.

Lord, Shemar flirting is just illegal. Fuck. Oh my goodness.

Holy shit! I love that guy!!!!! The guy flirting with Elle, oh my god I know him, I have no fucking idea what his name is, but he is one hot specimen, and I love this episode so much for giving me so much eye candy. Yay!

Aw, homey Aaron! So cute! Oh my god, Aaron was pirate number four in Pirates of Penzance hahaha I’m loving this so much.

Wait. Gideon can cook? Oh my god, that is so amazing! He’s making something very fancy, he’s making fucking garlic bread and he has a wine bottle ready to be popped. I want to marry you, Gideon. But obviously you have a lady friend coming over, for whom you are so diligently preparing this delicious meal, so I’ll let you get back to it.

Aww!!!! How does Penelope Garcia spend her weekend off? Gaming! Oh my god, this episode just turned into one of my favorites, holy shit.

“Why can’t guys in the real world be like that?” I agree, Penelope.

“He is not fictional. He is the online alter ego of a real person.” I love you, peaches.

“Look, we meet online at specified times that he is never late to. We spend hours adventuring and chatting during which time I have his undivided attention and he lavishes me with flattery. When’s the last time you had a date go that well?” “See if he’s got a fictional brother, all right?” oh JJ, you are precious.

Wait. No way! Jane Lynch is Spencer’s mom who is locked up in a nuthouse in Nevada? Oh my poor pretty boy, I love you so much.

So she’s very well-educated, yet schizophrenic, and Spencer sends her daily handwritten letters? Oh my god, I just fell in love with his character all over again.

Whoa, she’s a professor for fifteenth century literature? Oh my god, her character is so amazing. I love literature from that era and I just can’t believe how amazing this show is.

So he came all the way and can’t face her? Oh baby.

Oh hot damn, that dancing scene is hot hot hot! Elle looks so happy! I love her! Oh shit, Derek sweaty and dancing is too hot.

Oh shit. I’m getting so turned on here hahaha

Aww Aaron and Hayley met when he stumbled into the theatre department and joined the theatre group just to be with her! Oh my god he is the most romantic guy ever and I love him!

Aww it’s so nice to see Gideon so in love! It’s just such a contrast and I love it.

Okay, I never thought I’d see post-coital Hotchner and it is doing things to me. Seriously.

And who the fuck calls in the middle of the night?

First victims? It’s the whisperer from the beginning ugh.

The youngest holds the key? You must help him save her? What the fuck?

Why is the resort manager getting an anonymous call in the middle of the night that requires him to call the cops? I’m so confused here. Oh they reported a murder in a room? Oh damn.

Wait. Someone hacked into Penelope’s laptop? That doesn’t seem right. What the fuck? What does “All Work No Play” mean here?

Game over? What? Oh hell now!

Someone hacked into the FBI tech analyst computers? Oh no.

Wait, they’re now haunting Gideon too? Oh goodness me.

Whoa, those are blood stains on the walls.

He’s been delivered a package? That’s seriously frightening.

“Save her.” Save who?

Oh shit! That’s a fucking head! That’s a fuckin human head! What the fuck?

Hey! Hey! Whoa!!!!! Why are they attacking Elle? And why are they arresting her? What the fuck is going on here?

I love you Elle! I love you so much! And you, Mr. Jamaica PD detective, are seriously not doing yourself any favors pissing off a woman you just dragged out of bed in the middle of the night.

“Where’s the victim’s head?” “Well, I must have dropped it on my way in here, come on!” haha I love you. “I’m here on vacation, man!”

What the fuck? It’s always the same phrase. What the fuck is going on here?

Frank Giles. Got it.

Oh hell, Derek breaking down doors, yummy.

Whoa, Penelope just went apeshit on the computer systems, I love you so much baby but tone it down, okay?

“You just wait till I’m through with you!” oh shit, I’ve never seen her mad.

Did she just tell Morgan no?

“The information super highway is closed.” Uh oh.

“Someone had the nerve to run a blackhat op into my computers, Morgan. They hacked me, ok? But you can bet your sweet ass I will find them. I’ve got honey pot farms hidden behind uml kernel data packets and a first generation honeynet I personally programmed. My snort logs list every visitor, every server request, every keystroke on this entire network. If I have to back-hack his IP all the way to the frickin’ stone age, I will find this son of a bitch, ok? So bye.” Oh my god, I love you Penelope, you are my goddess.

Oh my god Morgan’s confused face is everything.

So the head Gideon got belongs to the body that was found in Jamaica with Elle and Morgan? Damn.

Thank goodness Hotchner is here.

A dead butterfly? What?

So this guy is a complete psycho? Oh god.

Oh god, this is absolutely dreadful.

Oh honey, she used the wireless internet and he got into her laptop oh dear lord, the poor thing.

Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me. Is that a sword sticking out of ohis fucking chest? Shit. And that’s Frank Giles. Oh my goodness.

“Here thy quest doth truly begin” oh my god.

Shit.

“To learn of what should next be done, leave the blade ‘til the hour be none.” What the actual fuck?

Hey Reid! I love you, but you poor puppy.

“Reid, do not go away ever again.” I love you too, Elle.

Yup, this is totally Indiana Jones, except that you need to find the fucking killer not the fucking treasure. Unless those two aren’t mutually exclusive.

Ooh yeah, now Reid gets to use his key.

Oh kay? This is creepy. Why the fuck does he give them a music box as a clue.

“Never would it be night, but always clear day to any man’s sight.” What the fuck does that even mean?

What? A DVD with a girl’s lock of hair tied to it? God, this guy is sick to the bone.

Okay, so that guy creeps me out to no end. And the rules of the game are that they cannot use outside help beyond the original seven? Well, that is really helpful, dick.

What the fuck? He sent someone to Hotch’s place? And he could’ve hurt Hayley and Jack! What?!

What the fuck does that piece of paper mean? What, is it like the whole word-line-page numbers form a book? Oh lord. This is gonna be a heavy one.

Why did Gideon have JJ talk to the press if the guy clearly told them not to go to anyone? Oh boy. He’s playing with fire.

Oh my goodness, groggy Elle is the cutest thing ever! She’s so adorable!

Didn’t Hotch tell that agent to escort her home? Why is Elle alone there?

Oh shit! He’s in her house! Oh my god.

SERIOUSLY? They’re gonna stop the last episode of the fucking season on a cliff hanger where you see someone pointing a gun at Elle, the screen goes black and you hear a gunshot? YOU FUCKERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love you so much, but what the fuck are they doing to all of my feelings?????

I know I should be writing my opinions on the season, but I’m so caught up that, with your permission, I’m going to just put this here and hurry on to the first episode of season 2, ok? See ya.

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