#EVERY SINGLE TIME I SEE ANY PICTURE OF A SHIRTLESS GUY WITH A FLAT CHEST I GET SO JEALOUS IT ACHES

[zebracakesarecopingmechanisms]

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[thenakedgingerwrites]

My Personal Trainer

I met Nick five months ago when he became my personal trainer. I joined the gym in the summer to finally work my body towards my personal goals. I had been skinny all my life and knew that if I wanted to change it I would have to get serious. Five months of 3-5 workouts a week and heavy carb/protein loading I was pushing towards my goal. I was up 20 pounds of muscle and my progress pics were really showing obvious changes. I of course had taken photos every step of the way, but hadn't really shared them with anyone until recently. Nick and I had our weekly Monday appointment scheduled. Today was chest day for me and he pushed me hard through it. I was actually pretty lucky getting Nick as my trainer. He was attractive but not instantly my type. It was easier to get a solid workout in if I wasn't drooling over my trainer the entire time. Nick was probably 5'11. He had a lot of muscle but was rounded since bulking season had set in. His arms were massive, chest was broad, and butt (from what I could tell) was quite a bubble. His legs were probably the most underdeveloped part of him but they weren't thin by any means. Definitely thicker than mine. Nick was pale but had clear, unblemished skin. His hair was dark and kept short. In fact sometimes his beard would get longer than his hair before he trimmed everything up. He was one of the few trainers that didn't seem to shave everything. His legs and arms had a nice layer of thick dark hair.

I tried not to fantasize about him but couldn't help the occasional naughty thought, especially when he would demonstrate squat formations or anything that popped his butt. However, I really tried to keep things professional. No harmless flirting or ogles were done by this guy. Nick figured out I was gay probably 2 months into our routine. It didn't phase him at all and things continued as normal. He would occasionally ask about my personal life, if I was seeing anyone, and I'd ask the same. We were both helplessly single but he was straight so there were no possibilities there. I didn't shower at the gym since I lived so close and Nick always did his workouts in the afternoon before I arrived. What this meant is that I'd never even seen the guy shirtless. The most skin I'd ever seen on the man was his calves, arms, and occasional upper thigh depending on the workout. His body was still a mystery, and that was probably a good thing for me. That all changed in the 4 month mark. We were talking after my workout and just shooting the shit. He asked if I had taken progress pictures and I explained I had, but wasn't quite ready to share. Maybe one day, I told him. He understood, but offered up his own. He flipped through his phone and then handed it to me. "Don't flip too much though," Nick said with a nervous laugh. He obviously had nudes on his phone. Of him or of someone else I wondered? The screen was zoomed in to a 3 picture side-by-side, each 6 months apart. I should probably mention that it was his neck down in nothing but some tight underwear. My eyes must have bulged. His body was amazing. I mean he definitely was a 'round' muscled guy but that was absolutely my type. His chest had a light dusting of dark hair which picked back up around his belly button and continued south, growing in intensity until it was hidden below his waistband. He kept his body hair trimmed but definitely all there. I couldn't help but focus on his package. Fuck keeping things personal, I thought. The pictures weren't amazingly lit, but I could easily see the large bulge in his briefs. Whether it was cock, balls, or both I couldn't tell. Whatever it was though, it was hefty. "... and if you blend that all together, it makes a wicked easy meal with tons of calories." Oh shit! I had completely zoned out while looking at his pictures. Quick, say something. "Well it's working out really well for you Nick. This is great progress. I'd be happy with any of them, honestly." Nick laughed. "Like, for your own body or as in your boyfriend?" It had seemed innocent enough but a million thoughts were running through my head. "Umm, well I meant for my own body, but if I was lucky enough to snatch someone up with a body like yours, I'd hold on tight." Nick just gave a cheesy grin and said thanks. We talked for a few more minutes about our weeks and what I would focus on while at the gym. Unfortunately, that night I jacked off thinking about those photos. The next night, I texted Nick telling him how raw I was from the workout yesterday and he responded with the picture he showed me. "Pain builds progress" he wrote with it. That week I did nothing but masturbate to that photo. The slippery slope had started and there was no turning back. Another month went by without much significance except how I looked at Nick. He was no longer just my personal trainer, he was now an object of my lust. Every workout he showed me I couldn't help but turn it dirty in my mind. I was losing it. We had hung out a few times outside of the gym. It had always been with a bunch of the gym staff for a game or just a night out in downtown. I got a text on Saturday morning asking if I wanted to hang out and drink some beers. His roommate was out of town and he wanted to enjoy the apartment to himself while watching the football game. I agreed, trying not to fantasize about unrealistic outcomes. When I got there he was basically in gym attire. I felt a bit dressed up in my nice jeans and button up shirt but oh well. We drank while watching the game, Nick drinking much faster than me. Near the end of the 3rd quarter, it was obvious our home team was going to win and interest in the game subsided. We talked about the gym, work, girls, guys, and continued to drink. I was getting tipsy at this point but Nick was sufficiently drunk. "When are you gonna show me your progress photos, man?" Nick asked me. He actually didn't need to beg much. The alcohol helped, but it only felt fair knowing how much I'd stared at his almost naked body. "Eh, I'll show you. Remember, I was SKINNY. Don't make fun." "I would never! Plus you've grown so much. I'm so proud!" He was smiling ear to ear. It made me swoon a little. I flipped through my phone to get the most recent. It was my 5 month comparison photo. Nothing too crazy. Just standing in front of the mirror flexing one arm in my underwear. I wore skimpy briefs but it was nothing x-rated. I had clearly changed. My ribs were no longer visible and every muscle and it's own definition. Where a flat chest had been there were now pecs. Where a stick arm was there was muscled girth. "Wow! I'm so impressed; you've changed more than I imagined." "Thanks Nick." I was genuinely appreciative of his compliments. "Although, you need to get better at posing." "What?" Nick continued, "You're not showing off the right muscles in these. Like, you've grown a lot in your back but you can't tell in these." "Oh, haha. I didn't realize there was an art to gym selfies." I chastised him a little sarcastically. "There is!!" Nick was drunkenly serious. This was clearly a subject he was passionate about. "Okay, how do you feel about practicing some?" "Sure, that's fine." I said. "You'd have to take off those clothes though to see what I mean." Nick was very direct. I played along, my mind secretly hoping for something like this or more. "That's fine. You would too, right? To show me?" "Yeah, yeah. Obviously." With that Nick stripped. There was no romantic tease to it. This was clearly just what Nick said it was and nothing more. In a few seconds he had peeled out to just his tight boxer briefs. I stood there for longer than I should have because he cleared his throat and said, "you're turn." I quickly snapped back to reality and disrobed as well. I wore my tight AussieBum red briefs tonight just in case something like this happened. What can I say, I'm a planner. "Nice briefs man." Nick offered. "Nice body." He laughed. "Okay, so the first pose is really to show off your Lats and all the work you've been doing on your back." He walked through a couple poses and I imitated him. He would correct me a few times and move my arms or body in the right way. I was really proud of myself for not popping an erection at all with the contact. Minutes passed and things started to get warm in the living room from all our flexing and holding poses. Nick offered to take some photos for me on my phone and I happily agreed. They would be much better than selfies. After taking some photos Nick asked if I would do the same. I obviously agreed. We got to a pose that Nick wanted to try to accentuate his butt. He stood sideways to the camera and twisted his torso towards the lens to accentuate the roundness of his bubble butt. I took a few photos, wishing they were on my phone instead. "Does it look good? Does my butt look good?" He asked me. "It looks incredible Nick. Easily one of the hottest asses I've ever seen." I didn't really think about what I was saying anymore. We were both getting drunk by this time. "Coming from you that means a lot, thanks!" Nick replied with a cheesy smile. "Hey, I kind of want to get some more but without my briefs. Is that okay?" "You want me to take your nudes for you?" I sarcastically asked. Probably should have played that differently. He laughed loudly, "No! I can take my own dick pics thank you. I'll still cover the goods up, I just want some sexier ones without underwear." "Sure, why would I mind?" Nick shrugged, "I dunno, just wanted to make sure, ya know?" He turned around to slip his briefs off. His butt, was amazing. Two large globes of muscle sat atop his legs. They were dusted in his dark fur but he kept his butt trimmed as well. He went through the same poses but was really good at covering up his cock with either his legs or his hands. As much as I wanted to, I never actually saw what he was packing other than some heavy pubes. When Nick felt he had enough shots, he plopped down onto the couch. He grabbed his briefs and placed them over this crotch but didn't actually put them on. He asked for his phone and flipped through the photos when I handed it to him. He was clearly pleased with the photos. "Is it bad that I find myself hot?" he asked. I laughed, still standing there in my underwear. "No. Is it bad if I do?" Oops. He looked up at me. "You think I'm hot?" I didn't know what to do. I scrambled to find words that would make this alright but the drunken haze was cast over my thoughts. "Well, never mind. That answers that question." Nick was looking down on me. I followed his eyes to see my obvious erection in my briefs. Shit!! I covered up quickly and turned from him. That's when he started laughing. "Don't worry about it dude. I'm flattered. Can't say I've given a guy a hard on before. Nice to know I can." "Ha, ha" I said sarcastically, still trying to will my cock to shrink. "Really, it's not a big deal. Come'on. Come here and help me figure out what shots are the best. You'll clearly have an eye for what looks good here." I looked over my shoulder and he was patting the seat of the couch beside him. I said Fuck it in my head and went to sit by him. My erection wasn't gone at all, but at this point in my life I wasn't really that shy about nudity anymore. A few minutes of flipping through shots and adding filters here and there, Nick asked me a question out of the blue. "So you really like cocks? Like, they look good to you?" "Yeah. Don't you like the look of your dick?" I replied. "Well yeah, but that's mine, ya know. I've never thought any other dick was nice." "I guess that's the difference in being gay," i laughed at that. Nick laughed too. "I guess you're right. But like, what exactly do you like about them?" I couldn't really explain it well after I thought for a moment. "I'm not really sure there's specific things or features I like about dicks and balls. It's just linked so closely with arousal that even seeing one triggers so much sexual endorphin release in me. And it's a muscle that can't hide sexual feelings, as we've clearly seen tonight. I like how honest cocks are." Nick lost it at that. "Hahaha, you like how 'honest' cocks are! That's a new one." "I'm a sucker for an honest dick, what can I say?" I laughed with him. Nick put his phone down. "Okay, then tell me. Do I have an honest dick?" He pulled his briefs off his cock. I stared without caring how obvious I was being, plus I assumed that's what he wanted. His cock was awesome. It was still pretty soft, cut, and pretty thick from what I could tell. However, it was his balls that was giving the bulging briefs in his photos. They were massive. He kept almost all his hair closely trimmed but Nick shaved his balls. "It's um... it's... honestly awesome. Nick, your balls are huge!" was all I could put together. "Haha, yeah. They've been big since I was a teenager." He handled them with palm and moved them around a bit. I swore I saw his cock twitch a bit too. "So, this is hot to you? Like, you actually think my cock and my balls are sexy?" "Do you need reassurance?" "No, no. It's just, I'm trying to figure it out. I'm.. I just can't believe someone would find someone else's dick hot." "Well, I could prove it to you." I offered. "Oh yeah? How?" Nick said. He's not a very good actor and it seemed obvious where this was going. I played it safe though and went with another slow tell. I moved my hand to his thigh. "I could show you how much I like your cock." Nick smiled. "You may have to. I still think you're fibbin'" "I would never lie," I joked. I moved my hand the extra few inches to his soft package. It felt even bigger in my hands. I had to skip to his balls first though since they were so incredibly. I moved them around and massaged them with my fingers. I would pull on them a little bit and stretch the skin which elicited light moans from Nick. I felt adventurous for a few reasons and leaned in. I kissed his balls, first lightly, and then heavier with some wet tongue. Nick moaned more. I continued to kiss and lick his balls while loosely gripping his cock. It was filling up quickly. A few seconds later, he was hard in my hand. I backed up from his balls to take a look at his meat. It was thicker than I thought. Probably 6 inches or so in length but probably the same around. It was the hottest cock I'd ever seen. I looked up to Nick just to reassure myself it was him and that this was honestly happening. He caught my eyes and just whispered, "Please don't stop." Oh that made me wet. I got down onto the floor and moved in between his legs. I took hold of his shaft and licked that cock from base to head like a popsicle. It was delicious. He had already started to precum a little for me. I wasn't in the mood to tease and went right into it. I took as much of Nick's cock into my mouth as I could. He wasn't super long but the girth prevented me from taking him all in on the first go. As I sucked with his member filling my mouth, Nick's light moans evolved to deep rumbling groans. He was loving this which made me even hornier. A couple of bobs was all it took for me to get most of him in my throat. After that I could try my different techniques (which were admittedly rusty). I swiveled my tongue around his head, used my hand to match pace with my mouth, and used a little teeth on the retract. Nick was loving each skill and would buck uncontrollably at some. I was surprised what a gentleman he was. He didn't try and grab my head to face fuck me (although I would have been fine with it) and made it very audible how much he appreciated what I was doing. "Fuck yes. That feels so good. You're amazing. You're incredible. Please don't stop." were the only things he could muster between groans. It only took a couple of minutes before Nick's balls began to tighten. I knew he was getting close. He finally did take hold of my head, but to remove it and saying, "I"m about to cum, man." What a fucking knight. "Good," I said and fought against his grip to latch back onto his cock. He tried to pull me off him again, "No, you really don't have to do that. I don't want you to feel like you do." I continued to stroke him with my hands as I popped off to say, "You don't know what it's like to be gay, but fact one, I WANT to do this." I batted his hands away and took his cock back into my wanting mouth. He just said, "oh god, oh god." over and over as he edged towards the finish line. Nick tried to hold back his orgasm as long as he could but finally he couldn't fight anymore. I took hold of his balls with a free hand as he erupted into me. His tank had definitely been full and I almost struggled to get it all down. Jet after jet of warm seed filled my mouth and was swallowed down. Nick tried to remain still but was bucking and shaking uncontrollably between his heavy breathing. When I was sure he was done, I milked him dry with a last squeeze and popped off his still hard cock. "So," I said, "believe me now that I actually like cock?" He tried to laugh but didn't have the energy. "That. Was. Amazing. I've never gotten head like that before. You're a master." I laughed. "Stand up," Nick said. I did as commanded and rose before him. I was still rock hard in my briefs, and had actually popped out a little on top. He put his hands on my ass and pulled me in closer. I had no words for what was happening, so I just went with it. He fondled me through my briefs for a bit, getting used to the feeling of a hard cock in close proximity to his body. He swallowed, and shucked my briefs to the floor. My cock sprang out and almost hit him in the face which he wasn't expecting and jumped back a bit. I couldn't help but laugh, "You're right to be scared. He bites." "You're huge, dude!" I was definitely longer than Nick. Around 8 inches, but not near as thick. And my balls were only average compared to his massive globes a few feet below. He hesitantly took hold of my cock with one hand and slowly stroked it. This was clearly more for him than it was for me. He was exploring what another man's cock was like and I didn't want to rush him through that. Plus it was incredibly hot to see him oaf around it like a foreign object. After giving me a slow, steady hand job for a few minutes he swallowed again and licked his lips. He inched closer and closed his eyes. I was now feeling bad about this. "Nick, stop. You don't have to do this. You don't owe me anything." He finally looked up at me. "No, I know. I just, I want to see what it's like." "Okay, but go slow. Don't do anything that makes you uncomfortable and you can stop anytime." He was looking at my dick again and nodded. He inched close again and closed his eyes to lick my cock head. Once he had a taste he moved his tongue around in his mouth to figure out if he liked it or not. "It just tastes like, skin?" I laughed, "yeah, they don't come in different flavors." "I guess I just, I thought it would taste different." I explained to him that it can if a guy precums a lot, but that I didn't. My cock was a great 'beginners' cock. We both laughed a bit. He then took hold with one hand and tried to wrap his lips around my cock. He could, but didn't take too much into his mouth. He bobbed on my cock like he thought he should but only took an inch or two in at a time and without any suction. What should I have expected from a straight guy. However poor the actual blow job was going, it was Nick who was giving it and that was incredibly hot. I was loving every second of it regardless. I must have began to leak a bit because Nick pulled away with a slight disgust taste on his mouth.

"That's what I expected they tasted like." Nick said with some nervous laughter.

"Yeah, if you don't like that you definitely won't like the ending."

He looked visibly nervous. I leaned down and pushed him away from my cock. "You're done. I'm not letting you go any further. Thanks for trying."

He sighed some relief, "Thanks for letting me try. And for that amazing blow job you gave me. I just wish I could return the favor."

"Trust me Nick, I loved every minute of that probably as much as you did." We both smiled.

"Well, do you wanna shoot on my chest?" Nick said.

I froze for a second and then began dying of laughter.

"What? People do that right?" Nick looked at my confused.

"Hahahaha, sure Nick, sure they do. But rarely does a straight guy just go, 'hey wanna cum on my chest?' It was just too funny."

He leaned back and rubbed his chest seductively, playing with himself a bit too. His cock had softened up almost entirely. "Do you wanna cum on this hot piece of man or not?"

I did.

I leaned into him and put one arm on his shoulder and the other on my cock. Nick just stared at the barrel of the gun in somewhat excited anticipation actually. Having this hunk below me, wanting my cum all over him, was enough to help me finish quickly. My balls tightened as the first blast shot forward onto his pecs. 8 steams of hot spunk fell onto Nick, coating his chest, abs, and cock in my cum. I sighed in relief.

"Hot." was all Nick had to say before we both started laughing.

We stayed there for a minute while I got my breath back and then he offered we take a shower. I rubbed his back, he rubbed mine. I probably washed his ass more than I had to but he didn't stop me or protest. By the end of the shower we both had erections again but heading into the living room he put on his briefs which signaled the nights fun was over.

We both fell asleep on the couch that night and I woke up spooning him in the morning. He was snoring. I got off of him and got the rest of my clothes on to leave. Before I left I looked back at this amazing, delicious man I had known for the past few months. He was sprawled out, chest up, almost naked in his tight white briefs. He had a serious case of morning wood going on that was clearly visible.

I felt naughty and probably was risking more than I should have, but I gave into the momentary idea. I got down on my knees and fished his cock and balls out of his briefs and gave them some light kisses. Nick continued to snore obliviously.

I took a step back to admire the view. I decided to take a picture of him like this for later use. I was going to put his junk back in but last minute decided instead to bob on it a couple times for one last taste and leave.

When I got home I felt guilty about the picture. I didn't want to delete it for obvious reasons but felt like I crossed a line. I decided to text him the photo with the caption "Had a great night. Took this souvenir. Hope you don't mind ;)"

That way if he wanted me to delete it he could tell me, but at least he would know that I had it.

I woke up from a nap to a response from Nick. "Likewise"

A few seconds later a video came through. I opened it and saw myself giving Nick head, his loud moans were close to the speaker. That little shit took a video of me blowing him without me knowing. The anger was only a reflex and I quickly found it hilarious that he captured that moment.

I texted him back, "That's blackmail!"

"Maybe it is. I need something to hold onto to remember last night."

"You could always just get the real thing again if you needed a reminder."

"Deal! Deleted."

"You don't really have to delete it, you can keep it for your own spank bank."

"haha good. I wasn't actually going to delete it anyway."

"lol, dick."

....

Bling. A picture of his hard cock and balls came through.

"This one?? ;P"

I was definitely jacking off today. "Tease!"

He replied, "I think we need to have a special work out session each week after our gym sessions. There are some special muscles we need to work out."

"Deal, see you Monday."

My training sessions had become something more, and I was absolutely, fucking floored about it.

[shotgun--rider]

Love Your Neighbor - One

A Dean x Reader Series

PART ONE

Y/N just wants her neighbor to find some sense of decency and shut the hell up. Her so-called brilliant plan gets messy, though, when it turns out that Dean Winchester is actually kind of perfect, and maybe taking her friends’ advice wasn’t the best move after all.

Word Count: 2900

Warnings: Allusions to sex, Dean Winchester is a fanboy

Dean Winchester isn’t a bad guy. As far as you can tell, actually, he seems to be a perfectly normal, average, unassuming guy. You’ve shared a few elevators and gotten your mail at the same time, waved politely on your way to take out the trash, and your beater car lives next door to his pristine ‘67 Impala in the underground parking ramp. Considering that the neighbors in your last apartment almost blew up the building making meth, living next to a harmless, pie-eating contractor sounded like heaven when you signed the lease. 

There’s just one little problem. And, strictly speaking, it’s none of your business if Dean Winchester also likes banging everything with legs in a twenty mile radius. More power to him, really. It’s just that the walls are cripplingly thin in this building, and while you’re happy your neighbor has a thriving sex life, you’d rather not be forced to listen to it every single night. 

Laying flat out on your bed, clad in the least amount of clothing you can pull off while still being decent, you grit your teeth. It’s a scorching night in July and the A/C in your unit has given up the ghost, leaving you to sprawl out sweating, hoping in vain for a cool breeze from the fire escape. And somehow, in spite of the fact that moving two feet has you wanting to pant like a dog with heat stroke, Dean Winchester has found the motivation to work up a whole other kind of sweat on the other side of your wall. Loudly. 

The apartment you’re renting is a pretty cheap one, and you knew what you’d signed up for when you signed the lease. It works for your purposes, and it’s not like you have loads of spare cash lying around anyway. The issue with the tiny one-bedroom is that it only accommodates your stuff in one possible layout, and yes, that does in fact mean that your bed is directly on the wall you share with Dean. In fact, you’re pretty sure your apartments are mirror images of one another, which is only an issue when he’s railing Lisa two feet from your head and banging the headboard on your shared wall. 

‘Lisa’ has been around for almost a month now, which as far as you’re aware is a new record for Dean, and she moans like a porn star that’s trying too hard. It can’t possibly be natural, you’ve decided, because sure, sex is good, but nobody in real life is having sex that’s that good. And sure, you’ll concede that Dean is an incredibly attractive guy, from what you’ve seen of him, but you’ve learned the hard way many times that that doesn’t automatically make them good in bed. Which means Lisa is just being obnoxiously dramatic. 

You thump your head in frustration against your pillow, contemplating pulling it over your ears as a new round of moaning starts up. God, how does anyone have sex for that long, anyway? 

“Yes, Dean, harder...right there… oh, fuck, yeah, yes, yes, yes!” She subsides into unintelligible screaming, punctuated with the occasional lower-pitched groan and the shuffle-shuffle-bang of the bed frame against the wall. 

“Oh my god, yeah, I’m gonna come, please make me come,” 

Cursing under your breath, you sit up, adjusting the spaghetti straps of your tank top as they try to slide down your shoulder. “Nobody says that shit,” you grumble aloud, shuffling in defeat off of your bed and out to sit on the fire escape. 

It’s not any cooler out here, and you can still vaguely hear Dean and Lisa getting it on, but at least your bed is no longer vibrating. Leaning forward on the iron railing, you pull out your phone and send a vomiting emoji to your best friend. There’s no context needed; she’s heard you complain enough times to know exactly what’s usually happening between the hours of ten p.m. and midnight in your building. 

Kinda impressed with this dude tbh, Meg replies back instantly. I wish I got off that much. 

You answer her with an eye roll. The point is I don’t want to hear it

Just tell him to shut the fuck up. Or kill him. You know like a bazillion ways

Once, when you’d only been living there for a handful of weeks, you’d thrown a shoe at the wall between you in a fit of ill-handled rage. You’d followed that up with taking off your other shoe and repeatedly thumping the wall with the heel, just in case they thought the original noise had been an accident. 

The resulting blissful silence had only lasted for about a minute, after which it was followed by a bout of laughter, and then more enthusiastic sex. No, Dean Winchester was evidently not the type of person to back down after being told to shut the fuck up, and you’d never quite managed to get the courage to just attack him about his sex life in front of the downstairs mailboxes. 

That doesn’t mean, however, that you haven’t been thinking up subtler ways to deal with the issue.  And now, because living on the fire escape until October doesn't actually sound like a pleasant experience, you might just have the perfect excuse. 

The ‘67 Chevy that lives in the parking space next to yours gets periodically replaced with a slightly rusty old pickup, the words Winchester Contracting emblazoned on the doors. And it’s not like you haven’t seen Dean sporting paint-stained jeans and a bag of tools before. He’s clearly the obvious, convenient choice to ask about the A/C. And if you happen to interrupt his bang-fest while complaining about the heat, well, that’s just two birds with one stone. 

You don’t bother with shoes for the short walk down the thinly-carpeted hall, only realizing once you’re standing in front of his door that you’re not really dressed for this. That could only work in your favor, though, right? Maybe a barely-clothed girl showing up would send Lisa into a jealous rage and she would leave on the spot, rendering Dean mercifully single and silent. And maybe you just need to solve this so you can get some god damned sleep, you thought wryly.

Before you can change your mind, you knock sharply on the door of apartment 914, rocking back on your heels as you wait, straining your ears for any noise from within. For a moment, there’s silence, and then a tell-tale, high pitched squeal. Nope, they’re definitely still shamelessly boinking, as your old roommate Donna would have announced cheerfully. 

At this point, it’s just getting a little ridiculous. Clenching your jaw in anger, you raise your fist to pound on the door again, harder this time. You have a book deadline in two weeks, no A/C, and you just want some fucking peace and quiet. Clearly, the universe has just chosen to laugh at you instead. 

Resisting the urge to hiss aloud in irritation, you pound on the door once more, this time hearing soft voices from inside. There’s shuffling, a muffled yelp, some slightly uneven footsteps, and then the door swings open to reveal Dean Winchester, irritated, half dressed, and making no attempt to hide what he’s been up to. 

“What?” he snaps out, all green eyes and sex hair and bare chest, which somehow manages to short-circuit your very angry brain, leaving you stuttering in his doorway. Seriously, though, knowing you have an attractive neighbor and seeing him in nothing but a pair of sweats are two different things.

“Uh,” you mentally shake yourself. You didn’t come here to drool over him, you’re here to solve a problem. “Listen, I’m really sorry to bother you,” you start. You’re not really all that sorry, but you need the time to try to organize your thoughts. 

“Oh, are you?” Dean returns grumpily, crossing his arms over his chest and Jesus but that’s a lot of tanned skin and biceps right in front of your face. 

“Yeah,” you falter, “I just was wondering if you could maybe help me?” You were laying it on a bit thick now, but who could really blame you? “The A/C quit on me and I know you have that construction business…”

“Dean? Who is it?” That would be Lisa, evidently, coming to the doorway in a bathrobe and, unsurprisingly, looking stunningly beautiful. She blinks at you over his shoulder, pushing dark hair out of her face and giving you an uncertain smile as she looks over your tank top and skimpy sleep shorts.  

“Oh I’m sorry,” you somehow manage to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,”

“You’re not,” Dean says, and, behind him, Lisa raises affronted eyebrows. Maybe there is trouble in paradise. Filing that information away for later, you shift on your feet, pushing some of your still-slightly-sweaty hair off of your forehead. Dean seems to jolt at the motion, glancing back into his apartment and opening the door wider. “Right, yeah,” he runs a hand through his hair, doing nothing to quiet the wild spikes. “You said A/C? Lemme just…” 

Dean disappears behind the half open door, one bare foot still holding it in place, and you can hear him moving something around, saying something in a low voice to Lisa, who audibly huffs back like she’s annoyed. When the rest of his body reappears, he’s got a black Metallica shirt most of the way on (a shame, really), and he’s carrying a slim black canvas bag of tools. 

“--probably not gonna take long,” he’s saying to Lisa over his shoulder, and it occurs to you suddenly that this plan requires you to bring Dean inside your apartment. Which makes sense, obviously, given that you actually do need the air conditioning fixed, and as long as he’s doing that he’s not banging his girlfriend, but you’re kind of awkward at the best of times and this is probably going to require conversation. Picture everyone naked, Donna would say, but somehow, having seen him shirtless really, really doesn’t help. 

Resigned to your fate, you shuffle back to your own apartment with Dean following, and you wince at the blast of hot air greeting you as soon as you swing open the door. Compared to the hallway, it’s like stepping into a particularly miserable sauna, and Dean huffs a surprised noise behind you. “Damn, you weren’t kidding, were you?”

You show him over to the sad little A/C unit wordlessly, hopping up on your kitchen table and crossing your arms as you watch him squint at it. “Thank you,” falls from your lips belatedly, and you have to remember that for all your irritation with him, Dean Winchester is still, fundamentally, the kind of man who apparently lets his neighbors interrupt sex so he can fix their broken appliances in the middle of the night. “I know it’s really late…”

“S’fine,” Dean shrugs, neatly pulling off the cover to the air conditioning and going after something inside with a tool you couldn’t have named if your life depended on it. “This way you won’t have to sleep on the fire escape.” He smiles at you over his shoulder, those green eyes bright, and your retort about sleeping on the fire escape anyway because of him gets lost somewhere in transit. Not for the first time, you wonder if this is really the brightest idea you’ve had. 

“Still,” you say instead, “you probably don’t want to come home from work and do more work,”

“It’s really not a big deal, Y/N,” Dean glances back at you. “It’s Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you confirm with a little shake of your head. “What’d you do, read my mail?”

“No,” Dean says quickly, followed by a slightly sheepish, “Maybe. Look, the mailroom’s tiny,”

He’s not wrong, and since you initially collected his name from the moans through your bedroom wall, you’re not sure you’re in a position to talk. When you look back at him, Dean’s wearing a slightly hesitant, definitely-not-adorable look on his face, and you laugh softly, watching him break out into a relieved smile in return. And damn it, he wasn’t supposed to be funny. It’s far easier to vilify someone who’s only kindness has been holding the elevator doors a few times, because plenty of colossal douchebags still have surface-level manners. 

But now your A/C is humming contentedly, working overtime to compensate for its lapse, and you have your loud-ass neighbor to thank for it. Your funny, smiling, half-dressed-at-midnight neighbor who’s currently giving you a great view of his ass in sweatpants as he bends over to grab his tools. Fuck. 

“Thank you,” you get out when your brain gets back online, and you hope it was a brief enough lapse that he didn’t notice. “I might actually make my deadline now that I’m not dying,”

Dean raises an eyebrow at you, shifting to lean back on the wall. “Deadline for what?”

“I’m a writer,” you explain, shaking your head ruefully. “Which is why I live in a crackerbox apartment with shitty air in the first place,”

Dean’s green eyes perk up in interest, and that was hardly the reaction you were expecting. “Oh yeah? What d’you write?”

You uncross your arms and slide off the kitchen table, crossing the living room to pull a black-and-red hardcover out of your hanging bookshelf. “Murder books,” you deadpan, watching for a reaction as you flash him the cover, featuring a man’s limp hand lying in a pool of blood. There’s kind of a small part of you that’s hoping you’ll scare him out of your apartment, because now you’re not really sure how to get rid of him. 

Surprising you as usual, Dean’s mouth drops open shamelessly instead. He gapes at you like a very handsome fish for a few moments before his tongue darts out to wet his lip and then he’s tripping over himself, talking almost too rapidly for you to follow. “No freakin’ way! I didn’t...I mean, you’re Y/F/I L/N. You never have a picture on the jacket--” Dean trails off, a flush rising in his cheeks as he collects himself, only serving to make the freckles dashed across his face more obvious. It’s kind of, maybe, just a little bit cute. “I’ve read them all,” he blurts out, stuck somewhere between shy and kind of proud. “They’re...this is awesome,”

You can’t help but laugh a little, surprised but pleased with the reaction. Your books do fairly well, garnering a moderate amount of attention and the occasional creepy fan message, but Dean’s enthusiasm is...pure. He’s standing in your living room with wide eyes and an embarrassed blush creeping its way down under the collar of his t-shirt, and damn it you were supposed to be mad at him. 

“I’ll sign copies for you as a thank you for the A/C,” comes out of your traitorous mouth instead. “If you want,” 

Dean lights up like a little kid at Christmas, warmth spreading in your chest at his reaction. “That would be awesome. I mean, yeah. Yes, please. Thanks,” He says roughly. Dean swings the compact tool bag awkwardly, rocking back on his heels for a moment, and then he looks hastily back at your little air conditioner. “Well, that’s done, so…”

“Right,” you return quickly, suddenly painfully aware that it’s past midnight as you turn in the direction of the door. “I really do appreciate it, Dean. Bring me whatever you want me to sign sometime, okay?”

He’s still got that terribly endearing, vaguely-stunned expression on his face when you lock the door behind him. 

The air’s had a chance to start working while you were talking with Dean, and you end up spread like a starfish on your bed after he leaves, reveling in the cooling air and the blessed silence. It’s the best sleep you’ve had in months. 

Of course, because the universe and everything in it hates you with a mad passion, the reprieve only lasts two days. You’re sitting cross legged on your floor, scowling at your laptop and your misbehaving chapter, still cringing at the latest biting deadline reminder from your agent, when a soft whimper catches your attention. 

For a moment, you’re prepared to dismiss it, hoping for the first and only time in your life that your apartment has rats. Kinky rats. “Fuck yeah, oh my god, want your cock so bad!”

You flop on your back on the floor helplessly, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes like that’s somehow going to make a difference. There’s a large part of you that just wants to shout through the wall that nobody in real life says shit like that when they’re having sex, but it probably wouldn’t do any good. “You have got to be kidding me,” you whisper aloud. 

Then again, you weren’t sure what you were expecting. Getting Dean to fix your air conditioning hadn’t actually involved addressing his stupidly loud sexcapades. Because, of course, the thought of bringing that up to him made you want to crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment. 

Defeated, you grabbed for your phone and pulled up your text conversation with Meg.

I need your help. 

[kookscrescent]

Tattoo Jealousy │ ksj

➤ pairing│Seokjin x female reader ➤ summary│Jin walks in to the dressing room to witness a situation that doesn’t sit well with him. ➤ rating│PG ➤ genre│fluff, idol au, boyfriend au ➤ warnings│very minor fighting, fluff ➤ word count│2k│semi edited ➤ release date│August 2nd 2019 ➤ disclaimer│This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡ 

⇥ Masterlist

The dressing room is quiet, the only sounds coming from the small flat screen tv mounted on the wall. The moving pictures on the screen showing the concert going on just a few doors down, and the seven men dancing and singing on the big stage in front of 50.000 people.

Your boyfriend is out on that stage, putting on a show and showing of his amazing vocals – Seokjin truly is amazing and you can’t help but feel a sense of pride as you watch him move around the stage, interacting with the fans and his members.

It’s their second to last song and they are having the time of their lives on that stage. You have watched them perform so many times before, but you never get tired of it! Every time is like the first time. Something new always happens at their concerts, and they always make it exciting to watch, and even though you also know their setlist in and out, you always anticipate the next song.

But this time you are really surprised! You learn something new about a member and you are slightly shocked that this is the first time you hear, or rather see it.

Jimin has a tattoo!?

What? When did he get a tattoo? The confusion takes over and you forget to watch the screen as you try to figure out when he could have gotten it. It doesn’t look fresh, so it’s probably not recently. Did he get it when they were overseas?

The clip of his shirt rising was so short, that you only caught a glimpse of it – almost to the point where you’re not even sure that it was a tattoo you saw. Maybe it was just a part of his t-shirt?

Before you know it, they make it to the end of the last song and get ready to say their final goodbyes. You cup the sides of your face as the camera zooms in on Jin, getting really close to his handsome face as he blows his signature kiss to the crowd. A dreamy smile makes it way on your face and you sigh. That right there really is your boyfriend, and you often have to pinch yourself to make sure that this is all real and not a dream.

The screen turns black as the concert comes to a close, and not long after the final notes of the music has stopped, can you hear the seven of them coming down the hallway. You can hear their loud talking and screams through the closed dressing room door and within seconds it flies open, sending in a wave of seven sweaty and rowdy men.  

Immediately you spot Jin coming in behind Yoongi, and you don’t care how sweaty he is, you skip your way over to him to give him a hug and kiss on the lips, complimenting his performance.

“You did fantastic!” you gush and Jin’s cheeks tint a rosy color.

“Thank you Jagiya.” He wipes the sweat on his forehead as he pecks your lips once more. “I’m gonna change out of these sweaty clothes quickly.” He tells you and you send him off with a smile and a nod.

You look around you to see where the rest of the boys when to. Most of them have left the room to change out of their sweaty stage clothes too, but Taehyung and Yoongi are still in the room, sitting on opposite ends of the large couch that takes up space in the middle of the dressing room.

You check the room once more, looking for one specific boy, but you don’t see him. You walk over to the back of the couch and crouch down. “Where did Jimin go?” you ask the both of them.

Taehyung briefly looks up from his phone and shrugs, “To change, I’m guessing.”

“What Tae said.” Yoongi then replies seconds later, making you crack a smile.

“Do you need him for anything?” Tae asks.

You shake your head no. “I just need to ask him something.”

You decide to just wait in here with them until he comes back. Taking a seat in between them, you pull out your phone as well, scrolling through your different social media accounts to pass the time.

Jungkook and Namjoon comes back minutes later, but Jimin is still in the back with Hoseok and Jin. The more time passes, the more you get curious to know if you were right or if it was just your imagination playing tricks on you.

Finally after a few more minutes of waiting around, Jimin emerges from the back, his hair wet and his clothes changed. You hurry towards him, needing to satisfy your curiosity.

“Jimin, did you get a tattoo?” You decide to ask him straight forward.

He looks a little shocked at first, but he quickly recovers as he smiles. “Yeah, a few months back. Why?” He leans casually against the catering table, grabbing a bottle of water.

So it was a tattoo you saw! “I spotted it during the show, but I didn’t know if it was something I just imagined.” you laugh.

“It wasn’t.” Jimin tells you and sips his water.

“Can I see it?”

“Sure,” he shrugs and lifts up the side of his shirt to reveal a series of black letters across his ribcage, reading nevermind.

“Oh cool!” You compliment as you expect the tattoo a little closer.

Your eyes follow the scribbled lines of the black ink on Jimin’s skin. You’ve always had a fascination with tattoos, and the way they help so many people express themselves and how they feel. Jimin happily answers all of your random questions about where he got it, who did it, and so on, and you find yourself taking a step closer to really see the tattoo.

Behind you Jin enters the room with Hoseok, and he immediately stops when he’s hit with a pang of jealousy, seeing you slightly bend over to get a better look at Jimin’s tattoo, you hand hovering above the letters as if you’re about to touch them.

“What the-“ Hoseok says when he bumps into Jin, but quiets down when his eyes follow Jin’s to where you and Jimin are. He mumbles something under his breath that Jin doesn’t catch, as he walks around him and heads for the couch.

Jin knows that you have a thing for tattoos, that you find them incredibly sexy. He has never really been jealous when it comes to you being around the guys, and you have seen every one of them with their shirts off before and he’s had no problem with it. Until now. There’s something inside him, he can feel the jealousy building up and he can’t seem to control it when he sees you in deep fascination over Jimin’s tattoo. His cheeks flush red as he can feel himself getting mad.

“____.” Jin calls out you name flatly, making you turn your focus on him.

You can see the hint of bubbling anger in his eyes. “Yeah?” You ask with uncertainty.

“Can I talk to you?” It’s phrased like a question, but you know by his tone of voice that it’s not and the fact that he doesn’t give you time to respond, but just turns and goes to wait in the hallway where there’s privacy.

You excuse yourself from Jimin and follow Jin outside where he leans against the wall waiting for you with his arms crossed.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him hesitantly.

“Do you honestly think that was okay?” he’s asks you with anger in his voice.

Your taken aback from his tone and you take a step back. “What do you mean?”

“I would like for you not to touch Jimin’s naked chest, or any of the guys’ naked chests in the future.” He states blankly, his eyes burning.

For a moment you think he’s just kidding and you’re about to laugh, but you quickly get the seriousness of the conversation, when his face remains blank, no other emotions but jealousy and anger showing.

“I wasn’t touching his chest. I was-“

“You were about to.” He interrupts.

“Okay fine, sure I was about to touch his chest, but only to look at the tattoo, Jin.” You don’t understand his sudden need to be like this and you feel the frustration welling up inside you.

“I don’t really understand where this is all coming from, or what exactly it is I have done for you to suddenly act like this.” You continue sounding defeated.

“I just don’t think it’s appropriate for you to stand there, bend over in front of a practically shirtless Jimin, getting ready to touch him! In a room full of people!” With each word his voice rises to almost a yell.

“Do not yell at me Seokjin!” You say just as loudly, point a finger at him while trying to calm your nerves, but him being like this makes you want to yell back just as much.

“First of all,” you start. “I was not bending over in front of Jimin! I was looking at his tattoo, that I didn’t know he had, so I was curious! Sue me for that! Second of all, why the sudden problem with having me around in the dressing room? I have seen every single one of you shirtless on multiple occasions and you never seemed to have a problem with it, until now!” You stop you ramble to take a deep breath, your nerves sitting on the outside of your skin.

Brushing a piece of hair back with your hand, you say, “So please tell me what the sudden problem with it is, because this is so pointless to fight over.”

Jin looks away, not wanting to meet your eyes. He knows this is a pointless and stupid argument, but he can’t help the way he feels. Seeing you standing there with Jimin, inspecting his tattoo with fascination and excitement, just got to him and he couldn’t control himself.

“I’m sorry…” he sighs after a while, his hands cupping the back of his neck as he groans. “I saw the way you looked at his tattoo and something inside me just… snapped…”

“Well that’s… wait! This is about his tattoo?”

He lets out a defeated sigh, his arms going limp at his sides. “I guess… I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I know how much you love tattoos on guys and Idon’t have one, so I got jealous when I saw you standing there with Christmas lights in your eyes and-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” you say with a light smile and place your hand flat on his chest. “I don’t just like tattoos on guys babe! I love tattoos in general no matter what gender they’re on. I think it’s a great way for someone to express themselves, just like with makeup.” You feel the tension between you fade away and you step closer to him, both of your hands now resting on his chest, Jin’s hands finding their way to your hips.

“And I don’t care that you don’t have any tattoos Jin! I love you just the way you are! And if you ever decide that you do want to get one, then that’s great, but even if you never get one, I’ll still love you with all my heart!”

As each word leaves your lips, Jin feels more and more silly for causing an argument over this. Of course, he knows that you love him! His emotions just got the best of him in a weak moment.

“I know, I know.” He gently presses his lips to the top of your head. “I’m sorry for accusing you and raising my voice at you, just because I got a little jealous.” Your eyes meet as you look up at him, his height towering over you. You crane you head back as he brings his lips down to yours.

“I forgive you.” You smile through the kisses. Jin keeps pecking your lips over and over again, until you chuckle lightly.

“I love you so god damn much! You know that right?” He says.

You nod, “I do, and I love you too!”

Thank youuuu for reading! I really hope you like it! If you did don’t forget to like or reblog ❀ It really means a lot, so thank you! ❀

All Rights Reserved © 2020 Kookscrescent

[gra-sonas]

The Kissing Booth | Malex [R]

This is a happy Malex highschool AU. There are no hammers or homophobic dads in this one, just two boys kissing for the first time (and then some). I may have borrowed a few lines of dialogue from 1x06, just not quite in the way you’d expect.

Author’s note I: Eternal thanks to @Insidious-Intent for the quick beta, you rock!

Author’s note II: This fic is rated R for a reason, Alex and Michael are both 17 (i.e. at the age of consent in New Mexico, and holy shit, do they both consent).

on AO3

        This is for all my lovelies who had a rough night. ♥

                                                           ･ﾟ✧

“Oh my god, Michael, what are you even wearing?”

Isobel is standing in front of Michael, arms akimbo and fury emanating from her every pore.

Michael looks down at himself.

“That’s my best flannel, Iz. There’s only one little stain on it that just won’t come out. These laundromat washing machines don’t do well with motor oil. But you can’t really see it when I’m in the booth.”

Michael is embarrassed. She knows that his budget doesn’t allow for him to buy fancy clothes, why is she so mad at him? Isobel closes her eyes for a second and takes a deep, steadying breath.

“I didn’t even notice the stain. But your shirt is missing buttons, Michael. Pretty much every button to be precise. And you’re not wearing a shirt underneath. I can almost see your belly button!”

Michael snickers, he’s quick to school his face into a mask of friendly indifference though. Iz doesn’t handle well being laughed at.

“I know, the one near my belly button came off when I put the shirt on this morning. I didn’t have time to fix it. And I didn’t have a clean shirt either. Sorry, Iz.”

Her face does a complicated thing where she looks furious one moment, then like she pities him the next (which he hates, he doesn’t want or need anyone’s pity, least of all hers), and then it’s back to her determined ‘I get shit done’ face. Michael almost gets whiplash from looking at her going through all these expressions.

“OK, I’m going to find a shirt for you, you cannot run the kissing booth with half your shirt off.”

“But why not, Iz? Don’t you think my sweaty, almost shirtless torso is gonna bring all the people to the yard?”

Isobel crunches her face in disgust.

“Ew, Michael. This is a school Carnival in case you forgot. Keep it PG and don’t be gross.”

“Gross is my middle name,” he mumbles under his breath.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing, Iz, nothing.”

She looks around and spots a dark clad student with spiked hair walking up the steps to the school’s main entrance.

“Hey, you!”

The guy stops and turns around.

It’s Alex Manes, local emo/goth/whatever and avid skateboarder. He’s also the guy Michael’s had his bisexual awakening over. They’d been paired for a project in their computer science class last fall and Michael had liked spending time with Alex. A lot. They even got an A for their essay, thanks to Alex being an actual wizard when he had a keyboard in front of him. Michael is still in awe of Alex’s coding skills.

He’s also still hopelessly in crush with Alex. The dark eyeliner, the hair, the bling, not to forget the sinfully tight skinny jeans that do wonders to show off Alex’s strong legs and amazing ass. Yeah, ever since Michael realized that he’s also into dicks, Alex has played a vivid role in most of Michael’s fantasies, sexual and non-sexual. Not that he ever did anything about it though.

He knows Alex is gay, not a day's going by without Valenti and his ilk bullying Alex in some way because of it, but Michael’s been careful not to get any ideas. Alex might be gay, that doesn’t mean he’d necessarily be attracted to someone like Michael. He’s not exactly a catch with his big nose, unruly hair and hand-me-down clothes.

Michael’s trying to play it cool when Alex walks the steps back down and comes over to where they are standing in front of the Kissing Booth.

“You yelled, Miss Evans?”

Michael admires Alex for having the balls to address Isobel with a voice that’s dripping with sarcasm. She doesn’t seem affected by Alex’s somewhat insolent reply though.

“Do you have an extra shirt?”

Michael is stunned, apparently Iz is willing to let Alex’s behavior slide, if only she gets a shirt for him out of it. She must be really desperate to cover his chest.

“I do.”

Michael feels his face heat up. Any second now Iz is going to explode and yell at Alex. And he’ll associate Michael with the incident and never look at him again. Great.

To his surprise, Isobel’s voice is especially sweet when she speaks again.

“I’m sorry, I should explain why I asked you about the shirt. You see, Michael here is going to run the kissing booth at the Carnival today, and look at his flannel. It’s missing a number of buttons. You can almost see his belly button!”

Faster than Michael has any chance to react, Iz pulls his flannel apart to show the expanse of his naked chest to Alex, who looks rather flabbergasted. Then his eyebrows draw together in a thoughtful frown.

“Wouldn’t that be a selling point though? I’m pretty sure most of the girls lining up to kiss Guerin will be more than happy to get an eyeful of that.”

He gestures at the general direction of Michael’s left nipple. Which hardens immediately. Fuck his life, Michael is not sure whether to laugh or cry. He goes for flirty sarcasm instead. If he’s going to die of embarrassment today, he’s gonna go out with a bang.

“Why just girls, Manes? I’m an equal opportunity kind of guy, don’t you think my manly chest could be of interest to anyone else?”

Alex’s eyes are wide, looking at Michael, but he snorts.

“I don’t see a single chest hair growing on that manly chest of yours.”

Iz waves her hand in front of Alex’s face.

“Sorry to interrupt your banter, but I have other things to take care of. Shirt?”

She holds up her flat hand and for a change, Alex complies. He takes off his backpack, opens it and pulls out a black shirt. The cover of Depeche Mode’s Music for the Masses album is printed on the front.

“It’s a bit frail around the collar, hope your manly chest won’t catch a cold through the holes. I want this back by the way, no need to wash it. I’ll do that myself.”

With that Alex hands the shirt over to Michael, zips his backpack, then turns around and leaves.

Michael is stunned. He clutches the shirt to his chest as if to comfort himself.

Iz puts a hand on his chin and turns his head around to look at him.

“Are you freaking out because you just outed yourself to the local gay guy?”

“What? No, of course not. It’s not a secret. I mean, I’ve never told anyone except you, but I’m not ashamed of it. I’m still stunned that you forced him to hand over a spare shirt so I won’t be such a kissing magnet.”

He yelps when Isobel’s fist makes contact with his bicep.

“Go into the booth and put the shirt on, wear the flannel over it, don’t make a scandal. This is all for a good cause and I don’t want to hear any complaints about your behavior. There are wet wipes in the booth, use them between kisses, there’s also mouth wash, use that too. I’ll come by in about two hours and I swear to god, your chest will never get a chance to grow a single hair, if you don’t behave. Understood?”

Michael nods. Isobel turns on her heel and heads over to the area where Max supervises the setup of a huge bouncy castle that looks like a flying saucer. Being as alien as possible in plain sight is Isobel’s thing, but then Roswell is the perfect town to host an alien themed Carnival.

Michael enters the kissing booth, unbuttons the remaining buttons of his favorite flannel and picks up Alex’s shirt. No one’s around, so he allows himself to hold it close to his nose and sniff. The shirt is freshly laundered, but it still smells like Alex somehow. It’s comforting.

Michael’s overcome with sudden longing, and he keeps breathing in the soothing scent for another moment. When he hears a noise from outside the booth, he quickly pulls the shirt over his head and exits the booth while he puts the flannel back on. He doesn’t bother with the buttons though.

                                                        ･ﾟ✧

Three hours into the Carnival, Michael is tired. He’s chewed through a pack of gum, the first bottle of mouthwash is almost empty, and the trash can is filled with used wet wipes.

He’d thought kissing so many people in one day would be fun, but it’s not.  

The number of people with bad breath is staggering (smokers being the worst), and more than one girl has tried to slip him their tongue. Michael loves kissing, but as it turns out, he has to like the person he kisses, or else it’s a somewhat boring and at times humiliating task.

Iz has allowed him to take a ten-minute break every hour and he’s relieved when the line in front of the booth dwindles down. Time to take his break. He’s about to close the window, when he sees Alex Manes approaching. It feels like his heart is doing a somersault in his chest.

Alex stops in front of the booth. He seems nervous, and he takes a deep breath before he speaks.

“Hey. Can we talk?”

Michael’s hands are sweaty and cold all of a sudden.

“Uh, yeah, I guess?”

Alex leans closer to the open window, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Somewhere private, maybe?”

Michael nods and tilts his chin to indicate that Alex should come around to the door on the back of the booth. As soon as Alex is out of sight, Michael closes the window and turns the sign that will inform people he’s on a break. It’s red with a green flying saucer depicted in the middle, and it reads I’ve been abducted, BACK IN 10.  

Michael also closes the flimsy curtain to keep prying eyes from looking inside the booth before he opens the door.

Alex is fiddling with the hem of his black Danger! At the Picture Show shirt. When Michael tries to run his hand through his curls, he realizes he’s still wearing the green visor Isobel made him wear. The sticker on the bill depicts a little green Martian with pursed lips that says “Kiss me, I’m an alien". Michael takes the visor off and lets it dangle from one finger.

Alex enters the booth and closes the door behind him. All of a sudden, it’s dim inside, the only light coming from three strings of fairy lights Isobel put up to imitate starlight. Pictures of UFOs and cartoon aliens are lining the walls, some of them are even kissing. A UFO made from papier-mâché is hanging from the ceiling, the WE COME IN PEACE lettering sparkling in green glitter.

Michael looks at Alex with wide eyes. He has no idea what Alex wants.  

“Okay, talk?”

Michael feels like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin when Alex keeps quiet for what feels like at least another minute. All of a sudden Alex surges forward and puts his hands on the lapels of Michael’s flannel. He stumbles back until he hits the wall. Alex comes after him, taking small steps, then he pulls Michael closer ever so slowly. When Michael doesn’t give any indication of being afraid or wanting an out, Alex closes the final gap between them and kisses the living daylights out of him.

Michael is shell-shocked for all but two seconds before he also dives in and kisses back with everything he has, the visor dropping to the floor from his hands before he clings to Alex’s shirt.

When Alex pulls back eventually, Michael leans forward and tries to chase his lips. He lands one more peck before he opens his eyes and looks at Alex who’s taken a step back. His face is flushed and his eyes are so wide, Michael’s afraid they might pop out of his head any second. Michael wants to kiss the deer-in-the-headlights panic from Alex’s face, but he’s afraid that Alex might bolt when he follows that urge.

He’s careful to slow his motions when he reaches out for Alex and cups his face in his hands.

“Hey, you ok?”

Alex blinks.

“I’m not sure. I kissed you. And I didn’t even pay for the kiss. Isobel’s gonna kill me.”

Michael smiles at him.

“Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that? How often I dreamed about it?”

Alex looks stunned.

“You did? I never thought I’d have a shot with you, but then you said you’re also into guys earlier and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Then I thought about all those times we talked when we were working on that project and I - I thought maybe... I’ve been debating whether I should line up and kiss you for the good cause, but then I didn’t want our first and maybe only kiss witnessed by half the school.”

Michael’s smile grows and his eyes light up.

“Our first kiss? So there will be more?”

Alex looks into his eyes and carefully inches closer until their chests are almost touching.

“Would that be a bad idea?”

Michael shakes his head, his curls flying in every direction.

“It’s the best idea you’ve had so far, other than making the first move. You have no idea how glad I am you did th... mmmffff.”

Alex effectively shuts him up by kissing him again.

He’s not shy about it either. The kiss gets more intense and almost filthy with a twist of Alex’s tongue that makes Michael moan. He’s never been kissed like that. Alex is claiming him, and Michael is one hundred percent on board with the idea.  

When Alex cups Michael’s face and lets his hands wander to the back of his head to bury them in the long strands of his curls, Michael almost sobs with how good it feels. To be held like this. When Alex slightly pulls Michael’s hair a moment later, it goes straight to his cock.  

He’d been getting harder with every swipe of Alex’s tongue, but the hair-pulling triggers his cock to full hardness. Alex somehow seems to realize what he’s done, because he’s letting go of Michael’s head by dropping his right hand, which causes Michael to make a protesting sound that almost immediately turns into a whimper when Alex uses his hand to cup Michael’s dick.  

Michael cants his hips forward in an effort to get more pressure, and Alex, bless him, starts rubbing and squeezing his dick through the denim of his faded jeans. The friction is delicious but not near enough. If Michael had any control left over his limbs, he’d try to open his fly, but he’s clinging to Alex with both hands fisted in his shirt, holding on for dear life. If he lets go of Alex now, he might just drop to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

When he realizes that somehow Alex managed to open his fly with one hand, his knees almost give out under him. Alex fumbles with the waistband of his boxers for a second, but then his hand is finding its way inside and Michael hisses when Alex’s long, guitar-calloused fingers wrap around his cock and apply the perfect amount of pressure and friction. It only takes a few pulls of Alex’s hand until Michael comes, helplessly gasping into Alex’s mouth while the ripples of the most intense orgasm he’s ever experienced run through his body.

He’s afraid he won’t be able to keep himself up any longer, but Alex is holding him through the full-body-shudders, whispering sweet nothings into Michael’s ear. He feels like a hot air balloon, ready to fly away with just a gust of wind, but Alex won’t let him. He’s holding Michael, grounding him, and slowly caressing him back to coherence.

He’s not sure if he should be embarrassed that he came all over Alex’s hand or what to do next. But apparently Alex is not only a coding wizard, he’s also a sex wizard who slowly coaxes Michael backwards until his knees hit the seat of the nearby chair. Alex helps him lower down until he sits after he’s pulled his hand out of Michael’s pants.

Alex looks around and notices the wet wipes. He picks them up and cleans his hand, then he kneels down in front of Michael and pulls down the waistband of his boxers. He dabs the remaining spots of come away, but instead of letting the waistband snap back against Michael’s stomach, Alex bends forward and places a soft kiss just slightly left of Michael’s happy trail, then another one a little lower, then another one on the smooth foreskin of his spent cock.

Michael is overcome with a wave of affection that makes his heart squeeze in his chest.

He buries his hands in the spiky strands of Alex’s hair and strokes against the grain. Alex makes a sound that sounds an awful lot like a purr. Michael files the information away for later. Because there has to be a later, a later where they are alone, where they have time to explore. And a horizontal surface to lie down.

Michael’s voice is raspy when he tries to speak again.

“This was... uhm, yeah.”

Alex looks up at him. His eyeliner is slightly smudged, and his pupils are blown. He smiles.

“Yeah, pretty damn uhm.”

Michael chuckles. Then he remembers that he has no idea whether Alex came. How very rude of him.

“Oh shit, you’ve been doing all the work here and gave me the most amazing orgasm of my life, and I - so um, should I now or...?”

Alex smiles and shakes his head.  

“You don’t need to worry, Guerin. You did plenty. Seeing you like this, knowing that it was me who did this to you got me off just fine. I might have to use another of these wet wipes though, nothing worse than come drying in your underwear.”

Michael bursts out laughing. This whole situation is absolutely amazing and utterly ridiculous in equal measure. He wouldn’t want to change anything about it though. Apart from shutting down this damn kissing booth and taking off with Alex. Even the thought of kissing anyone but Alex after what just happened makes his skin crawl.

“You know what? Why don’t you clean up while I fire off a text to tell Iz I caught herpes from someone’s kiss. I’ll let her know that I found someone who offered to take me to the nurse’s office. Max is scheduled to take over the booth in an hour anyway. I doubt anyone will notice it’ll be  closed for an hour because it’s lunch time.”

Alex nods along to Michael’s word vomit. He grabs the packet of wet wipes, unzips his pants and Michael has a hard time not to stare. How Alex will manage to clean up while his very tight jeans are basically glued to his skin is beyond Michael’s comprehension. He doesn’t dwell on the thought though, instead he pulls out his phone and texts Isobel.

He knows she’s going to be mad as hell at him. It’s impossible for him to catch herpes, he’s immune to human diseases (as far as they know), meaning she’ll know he’s bailing, but he doesn’t care.

He’s going to drive himself and Alex out into the desert where they will be alone and can continue where things left off. The makeshift bed in the back of his truck is the perfect playground.

When Alex is done, Michael gets up from the chair, buttons his pants and slowly moves into Alex’s personal space again.

“Ready to go?”

Alex smiles and presses a soft kiss to Michael’s lips.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

FIN

[kpurereactions]

Too Close

Jackson Mafia Scenario 3

I never thought in all my life I’d be standing in Santorini. The open air was refreshing made me feel free for once, the ocean was bluer than the sky if that was even possible. Here I was standing in a gorgeous white mansion with an open balcony the wind blowing my hair all over the place. And here I stood in a pure white lace dress, with a boho hipster brown caramel hat, and white chunky heels to go with it. I closed my eyes letting the sun shine down on my skin tanning it perfectly as I listen to the ocean talk and the sun setting painting the sky with oranges and yellows with some purples.

I smile but that smile breaks when I hear someone walking behind me. I turn around to see Jackson with his white dress shirt sleeves rolled up and a few buttons undone holding a glass of scotch. His blond hair is loose and not slicked back like it normally is and I give off a full smile and skip to him. He stands up straight and holds out one of his hands welcoming me towards him. But I don’t take his hand instead I hug him and bury my head in his chest loving the warmth he gives every time I hug him. His chest rubbles with laughter and he sits down his drink and picks me up having me wrap my legs around his torso.

He kisses me softly but pulls away and sets me down. “Go change baby girl I want to go swim in the pool and watch the stars and kiss you,” Jackson says smiling at me before kissing my nose. I walk off and into the master bedroom seeing our suitcases and pictures of both of our families and some other stuff from around the world. I go to my suit case to find a swim suit but I stop when I see one already out on the bed. I let out a giggle from what it is knowing Jackson picked it out. It’s a strap less black bikini that’s a push-up as well. I grab it and it fits me perfectly which makes me wonder when he find out my size. I look in a mirror and lower my head nervous that he may not like my body they way it is. I wasn’t your normal model girl that every guy drooled over and it made me scared that once he saw me he’d go back to being stone cold. I sigh and hope for the best as I walk across the cold birch wood floor. I slowly walk into the moon knowing the sun was long gone while changed.

I cover my body when I hear Jackson move around the pool to look at me. I take a shaky breath but it’s cut short when scotch minty flavored lips are connected to mine. My arms leave my body and wrap around Jackson’s shoulders. When I feel nothin but his skin my eyes fly open and I pull away instantly. My cheeks heat up so fast when I see he’s shirtless and has washboard abs. He gives off a loud laugh that makes you laugh as well. “Baby please don’t ever hide your body from me. To me your a goddess and someone who deserves to be treated like one, let me treat you like one.” He mumbles the last part before kissing me pulling me into the pool gently and holds me as we talk about everything and anything.

He had gone inside for a minute, a business call or something that made me roll my eyes. This was supposed to be our time. I sighed as I folded my arms over the edge of the infinity pool that over looked the ocean and rested my head, taking in how beautiful the moon looked over the water.

Jacksons warmth was returned to my body in what seemed like no time, must have been a quick phone call. His lips touched me first, connecting in the center of my shoulder blade before his arms wrapped around my neck. I couldn't help but smile and rest my head against his, I hated how weak he made me.

"Was it worth it?" He asked, nuzzling his nose into the crook of my neck now.

"Was what worth it?" I asked turning slightly to face him.

"Swimming at night. Is the view worth it?" He smiled softly, accepting me I. His arms as I stepped forward to wrap my arms around his waist.

"Definitely. It's almost like it's still light out, the moon is so bright." I said pressing my cheek against his chest so I could still look at the moon.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered bringing a wet thumb up to caress my cheek.

A soft smile met his lips as I looked up to hip and nodded. His hands moved up to my cheeks and gently pulled me forward, the smile staying on his lips as I tilted my head up to meet his lips. He kissed me softly, but with so much passion. His hands gently combed through my wet hair as I brought my arms up to snake around his neck, pulling him slightly against him to deepen the kiss.

That kiss was an eye opener for me. for the first time I felt so bad that I hadn't given him the most precious part of me. I loved him so much and told him every day, but how could he truly believe me since I didn't trust him to touch me in the only way he hasn't? It wasn't his fault and he understood why sex made me uncomfortable but I was starting to resent myself for not trusting him.

So I pulled him even closer.

My arms tightened around his neck and I let him turn me till my back was against the wall of the pool. Bent slightly lower, his hands moving to the backs of my thighs. Trust him.

Being so close to him in such an intimate way started to make my heart flutter and I could feel my body heating up as he pressed me into the wall even more, his hands moving to grip onto my behind as we continue to kiss.

"Baby, lets slow down." He breathed against my lips, his body slowly retracting from the spot where my lower half hooked around his.

"I don't want to." I whispered tightening my legs around him.

"What?" He said a bit louder, pulling his head away from him to fully look at me.

"I don't want to stop."

"Are you serious?" He said, his expression softening when he realized his words were starting to make me second guess myself.

"I want to be with you." I finally got the guts to whisper.

He responded by pulling me tighter into him and bringing a hand up to pull my neck into another kiss. He turned and started to walk through the water, our lips still connected. He walked up the pool stairs with my still wrapped around his torso until we were on solid ground. He let me go and get my feet under me before walking me backwards to the outdoor pool bed that laid under a canopy of soft fairy lights.

I smiled and took charge a bit making him turn till his back was facing the bed. With a slight push he softly fell to his back. The expression he had on his face made me smile and bite my lip as I moved to straddle his waist. He sat up to meet my lips before letting me push him all the way back. His hands moved up and down the backs of my thighs as encouragement to sink lower on his lap.

The moment I did and I could feel just how hard for me he was shivers of pleasure started shooting up and down my spine. He didn't have to tell me twice to start moving, I found myself needing to explore the part of his body I hadn't had the confidence to fully get to know.

Soft moans left Jacksons smiling lips as I moved myself across his lap and when my eyes met his again his smile widened and he pressed his forehead to mine.

"You have no idea how good this feels." He whispered pushing my hair behind my ear, his eyes closing. "I'm going to cum just like this." He said again.

I almost felt bad, I didn't even think how sexually frustrated he had been while being so committed to me, so I started to move faster, rolling my hips harder and faster against his quivering member.

It didn't take long for his hands to grip tightly against my ass and for his head to dip against my chest. His hips rolled up into me and everything clenched as he let himself go into his shorts. He held onto me tightly, his hands letting up slightly as his breath became even once again. He chuckled and moved his hands to hug my waist tightly, his head turning to the side so I could see how red his cheeks had become.

"Lay down, give me a second." He whispered kissing you softly before pulling back and quickly striping of his shorts.

This time it was me who was blushing as he just so casually let himself fall out of his shorts. I bit my lip as I watched him wipe himself down and discard the swim trunks to the floor. I couldn't help but laugh as he gave me a playful 'Come here baby girl' as he pulled my legs towards him making me lay flat on my back. I let him control my position, bringing one of my knees up as he laid himself between my legs. I hooked my arms tightly around his neck as the kiss he laid on me when from playful to heavy.

My entire boy was on fire with how close we were to one another, and the only way I knew how to express how badly I needed him was to tangle my fingers in his hair to hold him close as I curved my hips into him. His slight chuckle let me know he got the message and immediately his hands moved up to undo the single clasp of my bathing suit top then quickly down to remove my bottoms.

"God your so beautiful." He said clenching his jaw as he took a minute to look me over. Any long and I thought he was finding all my flaws, but as a sweet smile met his lips and he began to slowly descend back down my love and want for him only seemed to deepen.

He kissed me again, this time slowing and once again the feeling of his harden member began to press against my core.

"We're going to take this nice a slow baby girl." He said against my lips. "Though you are so wet for me, I don't know how long I can contain myself."

I chuckled at that, hooking my arms around his neck tighter as the kiss deepened. His tongue danced over mine as one of his hands moved up and down my body until it hovered right over my wet, teasing me slightly before he started to stroke me. I couldn't help but moan and arch my back slightly, wanting him to put aside the foreplay. I was already ready. He seemed to read my mind as he adjusted himself slightly, taking ahold of himself and rubbing his tip against me a few times.

"Ready?" He breathed, waiting for my nod that seemed a little too eager.

The last time, and only time I had sex was when I was 15, so this feeling was once again like the first. I tried to hide the hitch in my breath but his senses seemed to be on high. He stopped all movement and waited a few seconds, I realized my breathing had stopped. When I took a deep breath he continued till he hit as far as he could go. He stayed there, watching me, and waiting for me to tell him to continue.

For half a second I wanted him to stop. I wanted him to pull out and for us to pretend like this never happened, but I couldn't get him too. I wanted him and I couldn't let my past ruin this, so I opened my eyes and nodded as I pulled his neck till his lips were on mine once more. He pumped slowly, the uncomfortable feeling that I vaguely remember subsiding and pleasure started to increase faster than I thought it would. Almost to the posing where his slow motions were unbearable.

"Jackson go faster." I breathed, repositioning my arms around his neck.

He chuckled out an 'As you wish baby girl' and began to curl his hips up into me faster.

Both of our breathing became heavy and filled the silence of the night. His lips never left mine as he pumped and pumped until he need more. My eyes opened as he sat up, a loving smile touched his lips as he ran his hands down the length of my thighs. I moaned as he pushed my legs up, the new feeling causing my hand to reach out towards his arm and my nails to dig in his skin. I wanted to watch him, to see just how good he was feeling but my own pleasure kept forcing my eyes shut and my head to tilt back. By now his pace was alarming. His muscles flexed and veins started to become visible in his arms and forehead turning me on even more.

"Do you want me to make you cum baby girl?" He asked dipping down again and pressing his lips to my neck. "Or do you want me to save that for another time?"

"Make me cum." I breathed. I didn't know what it felt like, but I had a feeling I was already half way there.

Another moan left my throat, this time it was a noise I didn't known I could make as he licked his finger and placed it on my clit. He pushed one of. My legs up to reach deeper once again and began to circulate.

The feeling of static erupting through my body made me think I was cumming, my hands dug into the mattress and my back kept arching. But when it actually happened I felt as if I lost all control. My moms turned into shot whimpers and my joints all locked, a groan from him told me that he felt my body clenching around his member.

"Let go baby." He grunted, I didn't even know I was holding it in. "I'm right there with you."

I tried to relax but as his pumping quickened even more my body seemed to get tighter and tighter and my whimpers louder. With one quick change of his hips he hit a spot in me that made my fingers extend and my toes curl. The. Everything in me began to shake.

My body flexed as I crunched upwards, my thighs quivering as a cold rush of euphoria ran through my body causing goose bumps to rise over my skin. An ungodly, shaky moan pushed its way out of my throat as I tried to reach up for him. My body seemed to have a mind of his own as my back arch and the quivering intensity once more before my body completely relaxed. He wasn't lying when he said re was right there with me, the moment he felt me finish he was pulling out and came across my stomach, the warm liquid making my skin tingle as what happened hit me.

I laughed and covered my flushed face, laying still as he reached for his sorts once more and cleaned me off. I stayed like that until his hands gently pulled mine away from my face and he laid down next to me.

Smiling softly I tried to cover myself still shy around him even after what we just did. He smiled at me trying to pry my hands away from my face. Giggling he finally gets my hands away from my face. “Stop hiding yourself Y/N. Your gorgeous in every way possible.” Jackson whispers gently kissing my head. Hearing those soothing words help me let loose some of my demons I’ve had since the last time. He kept whispering sweet nothings in my ear luring me slowly to sleep. Something I seriously needed after our night, I never felt more loved than falling asleep next to him.

Nothing could be felt but cold. Ice cold......something I was terrified would happen and it did. Jolting awake holding the blankets to cover myself I look around the somewhat let room. Tears form in my eyes as I come to realize he left me. Sticking my warm hand to touch his cold side makes me start to shake from the anxiety building in my chest. But so something sharp sticks my fingers making blood drip on the white silk sheets. I look at what made me bleed to only see a bouquet of roses tied with a silver bow. The tears start to roll down my rosy cheeks knowing that he only wanted that and left me here alone and forgotten. Grabbing the first thing I see and wrapping around myself. Jackson’s scent warps is way around me as I notice it was his dress shirt that decorated my tan skin. I hear clatter in thee kitchen and i rush in there to see Jackson standing in grey sweat pants with no shirt and his blonde hair in a devlished way from his hand. A sob escapes my throat as I whimper out a thank god. Jackson must’ve hear me causing him to not really to look at me since he’s cooking. “Morning ba-“ He stops short when he looks at me “What’s wrong?” He asks putting down what he was cooking.

I don’t answer him since i rush at him wrapping my small arms around his shoulders. He sees my struggle since he’s so much taller than me as he picks me up putting me on the kitchen counter. I bury myself in the crook of his neck and wrapping my legs around his waist locking him into me. He pulls away pushing hair out of my face. “Baby what is wrong?” He asks anger and concern mixed into his voice. “Did someone hurt you? Did you hurt yourself? A Nightmare?” He kept rambling off questions and more tears just fall down my face, leaving tear stains on the shirt. Taking a deep breath trying to calm myself “I woke up and you weren’t there and i thought you left me for good and it scared me.” I let out a sob with the last word having the anxiety kick up even more. Something flashes in his eyes as he wraps his arms around me calming me down by kissing me gently everywhere he had access too.

He didnt say anything. I’m sure he didnt know what to say he’s never seen me freak out like this before. When i calm down more just sniffing and tears slowly falling now he grabs my hands and kisses them. “I’ll never leave you baby girl. I could never leave you. Your so small and tiny just the thought of someone hurting you makes my blood boil in ways i didnt know were imaginable. Just seeing you with my Members makes me so mad that i almost killed Youngjae for touching you. I never wanted to scare you or make you think that i left you. I just wanted to have breakfast in bed, and do some other things maybe.” He says winking at me causing me to let out a small giggle. I kiss him on the lips enjoying the way he smiles into every kiss.

“You know what I’m taking you back to bed.” He says swooping me up letting a laugh out as i scream out. He kisses me deeply as my hands wrap in his hair as he walks into the room as the door closes i know he’d never leave me.

Fallen

(smut written by Kitty)

[nathalieofearth]

Chapter 3: The Start of Self Destruction.

During the early days, I remember getting to know him. I first met him one fateful day at TGI Fridays. Yeah, not incredibly romantic, but of all the times, I was dating Odin for a little while now and this was one of the first times we hung out with our mutual friends as a couple. I had not met Sir Lancelot yet but when I finally sat down at a large table, he happened to sit next to me that night. We were introduced and conversed the whole evening, laughing and having a great night with what seemed like just the two of us. Now, it may have been that Odin was too excited to have friends to talk to about his video games but in this brief evening, it seemed that the world revolved around us, and I knew that this would be the beginning of something new.

Over the next few times we hung out, I got to know Sir Lancelot better. It seemed that he was in and out of relationships quite often, but he certainly was a charmer. One evening while out at a bar, Sir Lancelot kept me company the whole night while Odin was off getting drunk. He didn’t seem to notice that Sir Lancelot never left my side that night. However, he must have noticed the sadness my eyes gave away. I could feel his intense gaze look into my soul like it was piercing the walls and chains I had built and saw my naked, true self. I noticed that in this one moment, the whole world silenced for a minute, and it became another deeply intimate moment in a crowd of belligerents and strangers.

It’s strange, isn’t it? During these months, I felt so sure and secure in my relationship with Odin that it didn’t occur to me that I might have gained feelings for Sir Lancelot. I kept thinking that I was dreaming that Sir Lancelot would really care about my happiness. I was happy, wasn’t I? Odin was taking care of me, providing me with a place to live, placing food on the table and making sure I was doing everything I could to get a job. However, during these trying months, I was unemployed and was still awaiting my fate to go back to school. So basically, I had nothing to do in my little prison. I was bored and didn’t have much money to go out. In these times, it felt like Sir Lancelot was a breath of fresh air, a reprieve of my loneliness, and even more so, someone willing to listen to my stories. It began innocently enough, until that one fateful night I decided to act on my inhibitions. The fire inside me was building and I needed a release, a way to let my passions come crashing through, unbridled and fierce. I was willing to risk everything on this chance that Sir Lancelot might feel the same way. But instead of that moment being as satisfying as it should have been, I felt even more scarce, yearning for water in a boundless desert.

The kiss didn’t leave my lips for days. I would rub gently against it and close my eyes, wondering if that would be the last day I would ever get to kiss those lips again. When I went to sleep at night, I would be standing in front of that hotel door, looking up at his intense gaze and still not trying to look at his shirtless torso. I was becoming desperate for his touch again, or anything to get closer to him.

I am left with a sense of wanting I haven’t felt for a long time. How do I handle it? What can I do, especially me being in a relationship with Odin at this point for almost 8 months? I feel that maybe it’s an infatuation, a simple crush, that maybe what I really yearn for is attention. Or maybe, just maybe, it could be a soul-crushing feeling that I wasn’t happy in my situation. It’s been almost 8 months since my last job too, so things weren’t really looking up at this point. Could this really be fair to any one of these guys? I find myself unsure and trying to find a starting point of when I started feeling this way. It began at some point in the previous year, when I was still between my feelings for Odin and Quetzalcoatl. But only now, after this incident, I feel that this only serves to torture me, to continue to question my loyalty to Odin and of course, my sanity. This lustful, yearning wanting of a man I cannot have, who almost certainly does not want a relationship with me, and me, in an unhappy situation and with a man who does not appreciate what he has. Yet, the irony is that I don’t seem to being happier when I’m single; I like being in relationship, being loved and wanted. Or could it be as simple as that I just don’t know what I want: the struggle of any woman trying to find her place in the world.

Also, it could be that I don’t like being committed in a relationship. After all, I’ve been in and out of relationships since I started dating and I’ve never had a serious relationship like the one I currently have with Odin. Maybe this crush could be what I need to take the edge off my life, something that could have the potential to make me happy, however brief. Could the start of this be the end of me, the end of everything I know about myself? It sure seems like a dark path to take, betraying the love and trust of a man who does love me, albeit in his own way. This also has the potential to change me for the better, regardless of how self-destructive it could be.

From what I’ve seen, Sir Lancelot does like the attention, and there could be an attraction to me. What does he see when his intense eyes fall on me? That will always be on my mind. I mean, after all, Sir Lancelot is an old friend of Odin, and his loyalty could be to him and not towards me. There’s always been hints or comments made to me in the past where I’ve questioned his intentions towards me. He could have just made these general comments about what he likes in women, but oddly enough, he would always mention them when I was around. It could just be a mere coincidence, or me just taking things out of context, like I always do. But I would always “poke the bear,” so to speak, as I would usually reply with a provocative response or make flirtatious comments towards him. One particular time he flat out told me how sexy it was for a woman to be dominant, like a femme fatale. This brought about the idea of mine of to research everything I knew about femme fatales, yet I already knew that the way my confidence oozed out of me made me at least somewhat attractive to him.

In many ways, even after knowing him for a while and dating other men, I never have lost my attraction towards him. I’ve always felt that I was never really a woman he would be with because I had seen him with different girls and the key word here is girls. I was a woman in my own right and he chose little girls that were immature, full of insecurities and a demure appearance. In essence, these girls were nothing like me. Granted, I’m biased and I could quite possibly fit the description, but the fire burning within my soul, this long revered self-confidence and the embodiment of perseverance cannot match with girls still trying to grow into their own being, when I had long since conquered who I was and was proud to show everyone my being.

I grew anxious at the thought that he might somehow want to be with me. I built him up inside my head to be this perfect knight, when the reality was; he was full of flaws and insecurities himself. I could see them, see the core of his soul, barred naked whenever we would talk and to me, as time passed, he was nothing like I pictured him to be. At this point, my devotion as a faithful and loving girlfriend was the only thing I could hold on to, but I felt like a bird caged, longing to be free from Odin’s dependence. I saw all the choices I had in front of me like a hand of cards and Odin held the Ace. However, I promised myself that if Sir Lancelot would grant me some form of happiness, I would relinquish my Queen to him. In other words, I would let him hold my heart to safeguard. I would love him in my own way, just as he would love me, if he were to have me.

Around this time as well I faced other problems, mostly because I haunted by my past decisions of dating in the same circle of friends. Link, Odin, Sir Lancelot and Quetzalcoatl were all mutual friends and I could walk into any room they were in and know what they looked like naked. It brought both a sense of amusement and embarrassment every time we hung out together. But as a female knowing each one of them has had a little piece of my heart, it brought about a sadness that made me wonder, which one of them was the one that had the real piece to shape and heal my heart. I began feeling guilty that I had lingering thoughts about other men but at the same time, it brought me a sense of serenity knowing that I had made these past decisions and the wonder of possibilities ahead, which one of these men could bring me the longing of peace within my soul. No matter how you looked at it from the outside, I looked like the woman who played with men heart’s like toys, and just like Hester Prynne, I carried the adulterous “A” in a metaphorical sense across my chest. This heavy burden only brought me a deep, crushing loneliness in my soul that no man could bring me from.

The lingering thoughts of Sir Lancelot ran across my mind for weeks after that first kiss. I felt like I was on a euphoric cloud that no one could take me from. I carried that brief, intimate moment from the minute I woke up to the minute I went to sleep with my dreams. I would rub my lips every time I thought about it. I became obsessed with a kiss that serves only as a gentle reminder of the passion that I truly longed for in my heart. The thing I should have been more concerned with was a fiery passion that one should be careful with in order to avoid getting burned.

I finally got my chance to see Sir Lancelot again when a mutual friend of ours, Link, invited me to his house to hang out after picking him up from work. It is late June and there’s a storm coming, bad enough to make anyone stay at home. I thought it would just be a casual hangout, but as soon as I arrived, Sir Lancelot came over. I tried to act naturally, but inside, I was bursting with excitement. The pulse of my heart grew faster as the distance between us faded. My face lit up with energy and it spread around the room like a plague. Link, Sir Lancelot and I soon became enemies as we played on the video game console. We took turns, switching out controllers when the player lost. Eventually, Link became tired from working all day and decided to take a nap. Sir Lancelot and I had a moment alone and I couldn’t find any words to say to him. You could feel the tension in the room and cut it with a knife. But with his natural charm, he had me talking about everything and catching up with each other and by the time we had to say our goodbyes, I found it difficult to leave. Yet, I could not bear leaving things as they were, much less walk away from him without somehow getting near those lips again. Time became irrelevant and I was determined to get his kiss again. I lingered for as long as I could, Sir Lancelot giving no indication that he wanted me to stay or leave. So I finally mustered defeat, said goodbye and walked away…a heart-drenched goodbye that hurt in every physical and mental way. As I drive away, the more I dreaded in thinking that kiss was a solitary one and decided to give up my pursuit of Sir Lancelot.

On my drive home, not even five minutes after I had left, I decide to call him and let Sir Lancelot know how I really feel about him. Everything that had been boiling inside me was let out. He revealed his mutual feelings, much to my surprise and we agreed to meet up at fast-food restaurant, which was the half way between our two houses. He speaks hurriedly and out of breath, as if time is of the essence. From the manner that he spoke to me, it gave me a slight chance to hope that there could be something to his feelings towards me. When I arrived, he was already waiting. He rolls down the window and asks me to go in his car. I jump in the passenger seat and we try light conversation, like what voice actors we liked and my tattoos, to try to maintain some sense of sanity between us, since insanity seemed like the only thing to call this meet-up. He lingers now, asking me if I could stay a little longer. I curiously ask why and wait for his explanation. He said he wanted to kiss me, and for a moment, I thought I was dreaming. Would he really just say that to me after all this time, after fantasizing of this moment for so long? But my body responded for me, gesturing with my hands what he was waiting for to make his move.

But for a full minute, I realized I wasn’t imagining things. I’m sitting next to him, and before I could say anything else, he lets go of his self-control and lets his mouth do the talking. He kissed me, hard, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. I didn’t mind it and let go of all my inhibitions. I kissed him back, holding him warmly and close to me as if I were to never let go. He’s holding me by my back and pushing me towards him. He goes for my neck and moves up and down my body, as if exploring every inch of it with his mouth. The intensity of the kiss is only heightened as my body yearns for some form of release from this madness and I breathe out a little yelp and try to focus on the moment. My mind was soaring but the underlying guilt of it all wrenched through me, eating away at my happiness. This brief moment becomes clear to me as he satisfies me with his comfort and his embrace. It’s become a feeling of oneness and desire of not being alone. He kisses me with hunger, as if he needs me and my body reciprocates by letting it do the talking. I become overwhelmed with emotions that I came close to getting an orgasm, so I push him away from me so I can grab a breath of fresh air.

The windows have become foggy from the exhaling of our breaths, but I grab him and push him towards me again so I didn’t have to go back to the reality that faced me. My legs become numb at this point, and all I could feel is the center of my being increasing with every pulse, as if his kissing would release everything I was holding back. We become intertwined within each other and I just wanted to scream because I wanted more. I scratch his back, give him kisses between his face and ears, and he squeezes me even more tightly as if he had become the corset wrapping my body. His moans give off a sense of pleasure and my body becomes even more lustful to the point where my body just breaks down and softly my voice comes back to me and tells him to please stop.

He pulls away from me immediately. We stop and I close my eyes and put my hands behind my neck. I’m trying to take in everything about this moment. I sit there, awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. He speaks however, and it breaks the tension of the atmosphere. He tells me how soft my skin is, which is something I wasn’t expecting, that makes me blush and make me look even more flushed. My gaze couldn’t even meet his; almost as if I was too embarrassed to respond or maybe he would notice the way I was really feeling at this moment. I start looking outward thinking about the kiss we just shared.

It was just as intense as the first kiss went, and in all the ways that connected us even closer. It was this intimate moment that lasted forever, but when I checked the clock for a moment to breathe, only 30 minutes had passed. We share even more intimate secrets, but somehow it felt like they were more stories to help give us more reasons to bond.

I once again give in and he continues to kiss me, not as passionately, but as simple gestures, keeping me close to him. He briefly hesitates and tells me I’m perfect, and it’s as if new life has reawakened me. He softly checks my skin to make sure there was no mark left on it and I’m not sure if he could see just how flushed I really looked. I ran out of time and could no longer stay. I begin to get anxious at leaving his side. He smiles gently and tells me he’ll sleep soundly tonight and make plans to meet again soon. There’s a need to reassure ourselves again that it will be kept secret and discreet. I kiss him one brief and final time; giving him the assurance that what happens between us will stay between us. I bid him good night and goodbye. And the silence that followed from that point until I arrived home became one of the scariest things of my life. I sat there, evaluating all my choices ahead of me and only one thing became certain: whatever happens next in my life, good, bad, beautiful, horrifying, anything, I want him to be a part of it. But the question is, what happens next?

[bloggingsohard-blog]

Everyday Flawed Heroes

I was eight years old when Mom married George. He wasn’t like anyone I’d ever been around and definitely not the type of guy you’d ever expect to see my Mom with.  He was brash, loud and the grease under his finger nails was so deep that it went straight to the bone. He was classic Detroit.  His formal education stopped somewhere around eighth grade when he was expelled for punching his Science teacher yet his knowledge of cars was expert level.  Sometimes, as we would be standing in some random garage with one of his friends as they stared at him in wonder while he easily solved the mystery of their sputtering Chevelle, I would picture his brain as an engine.  Pistons firing in perfect unison, taking apart the problem at hand with industrial genius, I thought he was so cool.

He didn’t have any competition in the “Dad” arena so that probably helped him out.  My biological father was never really in the picture and Mom only dated one other guy before George.  Leon. What an uptight turd. Dude always looked like he was wearing wax lips, a disgusting compliment to his black feathered bangs and terrible three piece suits.  He was boring but he sang in the choir at church so my grandma really pushed him hardcore. Eventually Ma told him to kick rocks when he yelled at me for touching his Christmas tree lights.  “Those are very expensive! They are not toys little girl!!!” he hissed, revealing exactly how big of a high strung asshole he truly was.

I also acquired two new grandparents from their union which felt like a huge bonus in this whole deal. George’s parents were incredibly welcoming, treated me like one of their blood grandchildren immediately, never once making a difference between me and his brother’s kids.  Delbert and Polly were from a small border town in Kentucky near the Ohio River Valley. It’s pretty gross now to think of it but they married in 1941 when he was 18 and she was 13. I know. Ewww… but shit man, these are freakin’ mountain people and this was a long time ago. At least they weren’t related, hopefully.   I guess it was sometime after Delbert got back from World War II that he moved them to River Rouge, Michigan. He would eventually get a job at Great Lakes Steel and spend the next 45 years of his life in that place.  It would also claim my step-father’s dreams and health as he would spend 35 years there also only to lose half his pension while he steadily enjoys kidney dialysis three times a week, which is pretty much the ballad of the blue collar worker.

Polly spent a lot of time at the bingo hall and she often bragged about the amount of attention she still received from the opposite sex. Even as an eight year old kid I thought this was a weird thing to do in front of your husband but Delbert never seemed to mind. He would just chuckle and dance with the dog, one of his favorite activities. Once those 45’s dropped into the player and Conway Twitty, Jerry Reed or George Jones’ voice climbed out of the speakers, their small white Terrier Pete knew his dance partner was ready for a spin. Delbert would scoop him up into his arms and they swirl around the small sitting room of their modest but well kempt home.  “She was hotter than a two dollar pistol, she was the fastest thing around…” he’d sing to Pete like Grandma Polly and I weren’t even in the same zip code until he needed me to change the record.  Also why the episode of “King of the Hill” when Hank and Ladybird enter the dog dancing competition has always held a special place in my heart.

For a time I would go to their house every day after school in fourth grade until mom got off work and Delbert and I would always watch Barney Miller and Soap reruns. I would help Polly with the T.V. guide crossword puzzle and Papaw Delbert, he liked me to call him Papaw, would take me to the corner store to get her lottery tickets every evening.  Sometimes I would hear  mom argue with George about them, that they weren’t good role models for me and I didn’t understand it. Especially because Papaw Delbert had won a Purple Heart while serving in World War II, he was a hero.  I asked him several times what happened to him, what kind of injury he received but he would always change the subject.

He would talk about the war though. He actually had several great stories, the best of which took place on New Year’s Eve 1944. After spending several weeks slogging across France, fighting in small battles and freezing his ass off in icy foxholes, his unit ended up in Neunkirch.  I believe the Battle of the Bulge was going on at the same time but he wasn’t directly involved in that. There were tons of other smaller skirmishes taking place all around.  On December 31st, 1944 as a heavy snowstorm blanketed this town of France they were attempting to defend, German soldiers, some quite drunk, others just tipsy attacked while yelling at the top of their lungs “Happy New Year Yankee Bastards!!!”  Of course he spared me the gritty “Saving Private Ryan” details but needless to say they held strong and pushed them back. In fact, two of the Germans lay dead in the abandoned air field on which the battle took place until February as a warning and a war medal of sorts.  I LOVED this story. To me, Delbert was a real life badass and I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to get to be his lottery ticket, Barney Miller, dog dancing record changer side kick.

That summer Papaw Delbert was mowing the lawn when my step-dad and I pulled up on his motorcycle. It was extremely hot, even for Michigan so I assume that’s what prompted a man in his sixties to be shirtless in the front yard. George went inside and I took a spot on the porch waiting for my bestie to finish his chores so we could hang out. The sun glared down on his sagging frame, illuminating a myriad of scars along his chest, abdomen, back and shoulders. Some were small while others where much larger and jagged.  The mower cut off with a choke and he walked over, grabbing the sweating glass of iced water on the steps, chugging it down quick.

“Wow Papaw, so I guess I see now why you got that Purple Heart. All of those cuts and marks. What happened?” I asked, fully ready to hear this horrid war story he never wanted to speak of.

He looked puzzled for just a brief second then broke out into a fit of boisterous laughter.

“Oh! No kiddo! These didn’t happen in the War. Your grandmother did this.”

What I would find out later that night as I pressed my mother for truth is that Delbert had cheated on Polly for pretty much their entire marriage. AND-that every single time she caught him, which was almost every time he did it, she would stab him. Now I know I did a soft count of maybe 20 wounds on that man, there were probably more, so who knows how many times she truly took a knife to his flesh. This was my first real lesson in how complicated people can be and how there is rarely flat out good and evil. Most of the time good people do shitty stuff and in the end, you weigh it out. Delbert may have been a crappy husband but he was a Patriot, a loyal American, a great step-grandfather and a pretty good dog dancer.